There's a form we are required to fill out shortly after arrival to site. A kind of worst case scenario we need to make contact with you/find you kind of form.
I filled mine out earlier today, and was reading aloud my answers to Mark. Sometimes when you read things aloud, they just finally hit you, ya know. I got a good chuckle out of this:
Directions:
To your site by car: Describe how a person in a private vehicle can find your house. Assume that they have never been to your site, and that it is nighttime.
My answer:
There are no roads in Nuapapu. Get out of the boat. If your back is to the ocean, walk left into the 'uta (bush) up the steep path. Follow the path for about 10 minutes. Climb over pig fence. After the pig fence, there is a house slightly to the right. Walk in front of that house and follow the path to the alleyway. The school is on the left. Climb over pig fence. We are the house on the right.
Awesome, yeah?
Lisi
Thursday, November 22, 2012
A Struggle
We've arrived at our sites and schools at a funny time. Much of the educational system here revolves around major standardized tests, and since the tests are done and there is only 3 weeks of school left, not much "school" is getting done. So, one of the things that has occupied my school time has been playing along to some of their songs with the school's guitar. Today, the kids sang a couple English sunday-school-type songs. One was called "God's Love is Like a Circle", which spoke simply of God's unending love, and the other repeated the line "the countdown's getting shorter every day", referring to the anticipation of Christ's return. In every way, they were typical, sunday school songs; I'm sure you know the type. But in the middle of playing along, I got a little teary eyed.
I've heard more than my fair share of worship songs, and I don't usually get choked up so easily. As I reflected on the situation, it brought to mind what I would consider to be one of my most significant struggles during my Peace Corps service thus far.
The truth is this: I miss Christianity. I can't think of any better way to say it. This may sound strange to say, since I live in a nation that is overwhelmingly influenced by Christian religion. But the language barrier and cultural differences make it such a different ball game.
In many ways, I could say that there are plenty of "Christian aspects" of the Peace Corps. We are here to serve and empower those less fortunate than us. We are leaving home and comfort behind and are choosing to live like the people we are serving. But not once in our training has the importance of adopting a servant's heart or putting other's needs before our own been mentioned. Not once has it been implied that our service carries any kind of greater purpose or bigger picture.
Having come from a life surrounded by Christian friends and a church community, this reality has been extremely hard for me. I am used to talk of God, or prayer, or purpose coming up so naturally in conversation. But not once have I been encouraged to pray in times of struggle by a friend. Not once has peace been offered because of God's love and plan. It has felt so foreign and strange to prepare for this type of service without even a mention of spiritual matters.
All that to say, we are getting by. We are certainly having to lean on each other more, and we are having to get fed spiritually in other ways. And I do know that, in the end, we will benefit from this stark change. But, I have also realized that I sorely took for granted my friends and community back home. Of course, it's important to invest in folks who think differently from us, but to truly share life with people with a common perspective on life is a beautiful and invaluable thing. It connects us far more than I realized.
Friends, you are missed.
Mark
I've heard more than my fair share of worship songs, and I don't usually get choked up so easily. As I reflected on the situation, it brought to mind what I would consider to be one of my most significant struggles during my Peace Corps service thus far.
The truth is this: I miss Christianity. I can't think of any better way to say it. This may sound strange to say, since I live in a nation that is overwhelmingly influenced by Christian religion. But the language barrier and cultural differences make it such a different ball game.
In many ways, I could say that there are plenty of "Christian aspects" of the Peace Corps. We are here to serve and empower those less fortunate than us. We are leaving home and comfort behind and are choosing to live like the people we are serving. But not once in our training has the importance of adopting a servant's heart or putting other's needs before our own been mentioned. Not once has it been implied that our service carries any kind of greater purpose or bigger picture.
Having come from a life surrounded by Christian friends and a church community, this reality has been extremely hard for me. I am used to talk of God, or prayer, or purpose coming up so naturally in conversation. But not once have I been encouraged to pray in times of struggle by a friend. Not once has peace been offered because of God's love and plan. It has felt so foreign and strange to prepare for this type of service without even a mention of spiritual matters.
All that to say, we are getting by. We are certainly having to lean on each other more, and we are having to get fed spiritually in other ways. And I do know that, in the end, we will benefit from this stark change. But, I have also realized that I sorely took for granted my friends and community back home. Of course, it's important to invest in folks who think differently from us, but to truly share life with people with a common perspective on life is a beautiful and invaluable thing. It connects us far more than I realized.
Friends, you are missed.
Mark
There's no place like home...
After approximately 5 and a half months...we aren't living out of a suitcase anymore! It feels sooo good to have arrived at this moment. We are home, for the next two years, home. We didn't die (or puke) during our 22 hour boat ride, our stuff didn't sink on the boat from Neiafu to Nuapapu, and we are (mostly) unpacked.
Our house is perfect for us and we are busy making it our own. Of course, there is a lot to figure out...like the importance of taking clothes with you to the shower when you live on a school compound and the bathroom is a short jot away, or the importance of pumping enough water for not one but two showers, so ones spouse doesn't end up standing naked in a shower with no running water. We are working on figuring out lights and electricity and such, trash disposal is still blowing our minds, and we've pretty much already given up on the no bugs in the house hope.
Of course, it's hard to have all these exciting changes and not share them with you, our dear friends. Last night, after working in the house all day, I honestly burst into tears and said, "we're working so hard on making this a cute house, but we don't have any friends to invite over and be in it with us". (You are missed, so much, words don't do it justice.) Mark reassured me that we had only lived here 2 days and that, soon enough we would have friends. I'm sure he is right, but I retorted "not just friends, friends of my heart". No...no one really knows what I mean when I say that, but you few out there, you are, and finding a friend like that is like finding a needle and a haystack.
Sooo, if anyone wants to visit, we have this really awesome floor space for you to lay on, and the most magnificent view you've ever laid eyes on!
-Lisi
Our house is perfect for us and we are busy making it our own. Of course, there is a lot to figure out...like the importance of taking clothes with you to the shower when you live on a school compound and the bathroom is a short jot away, or the importance of pumping enough water for not one but two showers, so ones spouse doesn't end up standing naked in a shower with no running water. We are working on figuring out lights and electricity and such, trash disposal is still blowing our minds, and we've pretty much already given up on the no bugs in the house hope.
Of course, it's hard to have all these exciting changes and not share them with you, our dear friends. Last night, after working in the house all day, I honestly burst into tears and said, "we're working so hard on making this a cute house, but we don't have any friends to invite over and be in it with us". (You are missed, so much, words don't do it justice.) Mark reassured me that we had only lived here 2 days and that, soon enough we would have friends. I'm sure he is right, but I retorted "not just friends, friends of my heart". No...no one really knows what I mean when I say that, but you few out there, you are, and finding a friend like that is like finding a needle and a haystack.
Sooo, if anyone wants to visit, we have this really awesome floor space for you to lay on, and the most magnificent view you've ever laid eyes on!
-Lisi
Busy as a bee, busy little beaver, not me.
I'm the sort who thrives on busyness. Loooves my to do lists, loves running around, waking up early, staying out late, having every second of my day full, full, full.
There is a small and growing sense of overwhelming claustrophobia as I attempt to adjust to life's new pace.
Slowness. Idle time. Huge amounts of idle time. I am reading books by the library full. I have killed approximately 100,000 bugs. I am sore to the point of immobility from p90x. I have eva pe'd to every house in Nuapapu. This is hard for me.
I like to think I'm a person who just loves people, who is fascinated by their stories, who delights in shooting the breeze...and I do love people, don't get me wrong. I just really struggle with pointless, meaningless conversation....I suppose one could argue that no conversation is meaningless...I am forming connections, relationships. I am learning how to slow down. How to enjoy the small things. How to talk about nothing (in Tongan, no less).
Send a prayer for me as I settle into the rhythm of life here. I have a lot of undoing of myself to thrive here. I'm looking forward to it and I'm also dreading it.
On the other hand, Mark and I have never gotten to eat breakfast together on any days other than Saturday. I look forward to every morning, sitting across from each other, enjoying our coffee and talking.
The view from our porch is absolutely stunning. You will have to come see for yourself. As soon as the hammock is up, I could stare at the ocean for hours.
Mark and I are enjoying romantic candlelight dinners and conversations. There's not much in the way of "entertainment" around here, and we are discovering that we are very much entertained by each other. Something we always knew, but never had so much time to explore.
I am really learning how to play the uke. And harmonize with Mark. Because...that would just be cool, right? He's definitely the kind of guy who needs some sort of musical wife...
There is a loto kolo, a center of town, in Nuapapu. It's this gorgeous green hill and field. In the evenings, the girls play netball and the boys play volleyball. The kids sit and play cards. We all laugh at each other and talk about the day. Sometimes I feel like there's nothing to talk about...the women weave all day, the men go to the uta. But I am discovering there's a lot to tell. Though mark and I are currently the new cool thing and most
laughing is at our expense, sitting around, enjoying everyone's company, it's something I hope I grow to love.
And, one last thing, the stars. Because there's no electricity here, and because we are a little island in the middle of a big ocean, the stars and moon are breathtaking.
Lisi
There is a small and growing sense of overwhelming claustrophobia as I attempt to adjust to life's new pace.
Slowness. Idle time. Huge amounts of idle time. I am reading books by the library full. I have killed approximately 100,000 bugs. I am sore to the point of immobility from p90x. I have eva pe'd to every house in Nuapapu. This is hard for me.
I like to think I'm a person who just loves people, who is fascinated by their stories, who delights in shooting the breeze...and I do love people, don't get me wrong. I just really struggle with pointless, meaningless conversation....I suppose one could argue that no conversation is meaningless...I am forming connections, relationships. I am learning how to slow down. How to enjoy the small things. How to talk about nothing (in Tongan, no less).
Send a prayer for me as I settle into the rhythm of life here. I have a lot of undoing of myself to thrive here. I'm looking forward to it and I'm also dreading it.
On the other hand, Mark and I have never gotten to eat breakfast together on any days other than Saturday. I look forward to every morning, sitting across from each other, enjoying our coffee and talking.
The view from our porch is absolutely stunning. You will have to come see for yourself. As soon as the hammock is up, I could stare at the ocean for hours.
Mark and I are enjoying romantic candlelight dinners and conversations. There's not much in the way of "entertainment" around here, and we are discovering that we are very much entertained by each other. Something we always knew, but never had so much time to explore.
I am really learning how to play the uke. And harmonize with Mark. Because...that would just be cool, right? He's definitely the kind of guy who needs some sort of musical wife...
There is a loto kolo, a center of town, in Nuapapu. It's this gorgeous green hill and field. In the evenings, the girls play netball and the boys play volleyball. The kids sit and play cards. We all laugh at each other and talk about the day. Sometimes I feel like there's nothing to talk about...the women weave all day, the men go to the uta. But I am discovering there's a lot to tell. Though mark and I are currently the new cool thing and most
laughing is at our expense, sitting around, enjoying everyone's company, it's something I hope I grow to love.
And, one last thing, the stars. Because there's no electricity here, and because we are a little island in the middle of a big ocean, the stars and moon are breathtaking.
Lisi
Pirates, and other seafarers
I have spent a lot of time wondering about boat travel, lately. Wondering as in pondering, as well as "being in wonder of".
After our initial visit to Nuapapu, and the wild success of that boat ride (complete with dolphin sighting!) I was not at all anxious about the 22 hour boat ride that would bring us and our junk from Tomgatapu to Vava'u.
I should have been.
I was fine when land was in view, which made up about a total of 4 of the 22 hours. I leaned over the railing, stared up at stars, saw schools of flying fish, felt the wind and sun on my face, oh it was magical. The sun was setting when we left Tongatapu, at 4am I stumbled to the restroom and glimpsed some Ha'apai boats from outer islands coming toward us, around 8 we docked at one of the Ha'apai islands and walked around, and sometime around 2pm we caught sight of the first of the Vava'u islands. At all of those times I loved this trip.
The other 18 hours I was in the fetal position on the boat deck. It was just so....rocky. So rolly. So up and down. My stomach stayed in my throat, and if possible I no longer had a head. I never got sick, but next time I hope I can at least sit up for some of the ride....besides all that, I recommend it, and I'll do it again. There is something grand and adventurous about this boat ride, and the magic of spotting land after hours of water is something to experience first hand.
During the numerous hours I spent lying on the deck, I couldn't help but wonder at all those who came before is. Imagine heading off on a ship to a destination unknown and spending months at a time on the water. It is utterly amazing to me.
On our short ride from Neiafu to Nuapapu the water was much less tranquil than our initial trip. At some points we had to turn the engine off to breach the waves, it was really not scary at all and very exciting. I love being on the water! While we were slowly moving along, we spotted a boat in the distance. There was a quick conversation about who it was, and again I marveled at the bravery and ability of the seaman. How can one tell who it is? I mean, I'm sure around here everyone recognizes everybody else's boat (s), but I sure can't see a thing! And back in the day, I can't imagine the courage it would take to see a boat up ahead, and having know idea who could be on it, continuing in the same direction.
I've got a lot to learn about island living and sea faring. :)
Lisi
After our initial visit to Nuapapu, and the wild success of that boat ride (complete with dolphin sighting!) I was not at all anxious about the 22 hour boat ride that would bring us and our junk from Tomgatapu to Vava'u.
I should have been.
I was fine when land was in view, which made up about a total of 4 of the 22 hours. I leaned over the railing, stared up at stars, saw schools of flying fish, felt the wind and sun on my face, oh it was magical. The sun was setting when we left Tongatapu, at 4am I stumbled to the restroom and glimpsed some Ha'apai boats from outer islands coming toward us, around 8 we docked at one of the Ha'apai islands and walked around, and sometime around 2pm we caught sight of the first of the Vava'u islands. At all of those times I loved this trip.
The other 18 hours I was in the fetal position on the boat deck. It was just so....rocky. So rolly. So up and down. My stomach stayed in my throat, and if possible I no longer had a head. I never got sick, but next time I hope I can at least sit up for some of the ride....besides all that, I recommend it, and I'll do it again. There is something grand and adventurous about this boat ride, and the magic of spotting land after hours of water is something to experience first hand.
During the numerous hours I spent lying on the deck, I couldn't help but wonder at all those who came before is. Imagine heading off on a ship to a destination unknown and spending months at a time on the water. It is utterly amazing to me.
On our short ride from Neiafu to Nuapapu the water was much less tranquil than our initial trip. At some points we had to turn the engine off to breach the waves, it was really not scary at all and very exciting. I love being on the water! While we were slowly moving along, we spotted a boat in the distance. There was a quick conversation about who it was, and again I marveled at the bravery and ability of the seaman. How can one tell who it is? I mean, I'm sure around here everyone recognizes everybody else's boat (s), but I sure can't see a thing! And back in the day, I can't imagine the courage it would take to see a boat up ahead, and having know idea who could be on it, continuing in the same direction.
I've got a lot to learn about island living and sea faring. :)
Lisi
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