Getting Back to Work
Mid-July 2006
I live in the capital city, but work in the rural areas, including a tiny off-shore island. Yes, even tinier than the speck of a country that I’m already in! For those of you interested, the country is about the size of Connecticut and has less than a million people. The tiny island has about 9000. It is beautiful and pristine. Of course, beautiful and pristine also means very un-developed which ensures poor living standards and amenities…so extreme poverty for them, camping-like conditions for me (which I note, not out of complaint, but for your info since you are presumably reading this because you know me!).
After such tense times in the capital, it was nice to get away, sleep well and relax. This was our first big visit to the island and we rented a small local boat and circled the entire island, stopping at most off the 15 or so little hamlets tucked just between the beach and the hills. Some of the more notable points of my visit:
- The more populated, east side of the island is lovely. The west side is magical. The crystal clear water, coconut trees lining the beach where we pulled our little outrigger boat into, the traditional huts set back at the base of the hills, seeing children from a distance running, playing and laughing on the beach and watching everything cease in stunned reaction to the visitors (us!)… All of it, almost untouched by the external world. Life is tough here but even the people seem lighter of heart.
- We were having a community meeting in one village. About 50 people sitting on the beach (we important people got the uncomfortable, ubiquitous plastic chairs) under the trees listening intently, shyly. The meeting, as usual, progressed at a snails pace – trying to engage people and talk about what they want rather than them waiting to hear what they will get. Suddenly, the laughing and whistling of kids playing began to waft over the meeting. Not quite interrupting and yet not unnoticed. About 3 or 4 dug out canoes (hollowed out trees) were floating by filled with kids. Fishing or playing or both, they were having a lovely day in the late day sun about 50 yards off the coast. Maybe it is because I’ve been in such a heavy place for the past 2 months, but these sounds of happiness were more than welcome.
- I think the most ‘fun’ I had on this trip was the boat trip: 2 meter (yard) swells in a 6 meter wooden boat. We hugged the shore the whole way but the fact is that you are often in deep water once you are out 15 meters from the shore. Very steep and quick dropoffs! i.e. Open Water. At no point was I really worried about things like my life (could easily swim to shore) but its still a bit unnerving to be tossed about as we were.
- Do you like papaya? Seems like a simple question right. Well here, there are actually 3 edible parts of the papaya. The fruit (which I don’t like and can generally avoid easily), the leaves which are a bit bitter but can generally be prepared well and can be reasonably tasty, and the rind which just plain tastes like earwax. I learned on this trip that I don’t like the rind of the papaya.
- Soapy coffee. I don’t think I’ll ever come to like it, but I am getting used to it. It is customary to offer guests coffee upon arrival in a village here. Unfortunately, water is scarce and the dishsoap they use is hard to rinse off – particularly from the plastic cups where the soap seems to infiltrate and eternally stay. So, I stopped counting how many cups of overly sweet coffee with a hint of soap I have drunk. The one though that goes through my mind each time is “hmm, hint of soap again. This won’t be the last time I drink this.”
- Upon arrival in one village, someone disappeared and quickly returned with fresh young coconuts, clearly just picked off the tree. Pulling out a machete (a very useful, all purpose tool) the head of village quickly went to work to make a 2” dia. hole in the top of each so we could drink the mild coconut water. I’ve never been a huge coconut water fan. A few sips are always refreshing but the taste was never one I’ve taken too. However, today, I was very excited to 1) not be served yet another cup of soapy coffee and 2) quickly rehydrate (coconut water is most medicinal in the tropics!) They gestured that I should begin drinking to which I thanked them and quickly followed with a gesture to my colleagues that they as well should begin.
The truth is, I had no idea how to maneuver the coconut so the water went in my mouth and not down my shirt! We foreigners have many an embarrassing moment (they don’t use knives here – try cutting a tough piece of beef with a fork and a spoon!) and I quickly envisioned the coconut experience going that way. I’ve drunk straight out of the coconut before but always in the ‘big city’ where they stick a straw in it for you. I just couldn’t imagine being able to properly sort it all out so the water went where it was supposed to. We had an uncomfortable moment of my colleagues waiting for me (the most important person always goes first) and me waiting for them to drink so I could see how it was done!
Finally I convinced them to go ahead. I observed hand and lip placement along with the appropriate head tilting. (yes, we are still talking about drinking straight from a coconut) Still not at all sure I’d manage without feeling like a 2 year hold with her first cup of juice (mental image of coconut water pouring out of both sides of my mount and straight down my chin, neck and finally to my shirt), I gave it a try. I can happily report not a drop was lost. Something about the inner shape of the coconut controls the flow (yes, I work with water and this is how I think about liquids!) and it really isn’t so tough after all!! I’ve since had 3 or 4 more and can now confidently drink a coconut. Who said I don’t have skills?
More Gilligan’s Island stories to come…
I live in the capital city, but work in the rural areas, including a tiny off-shore island. Yes, even tinier than the speck of a country that I’m already in! For those of you interested, the country is about the size of Connecticut and has less than a million people. The tiny island has about 9000. It is beautiful and pristine. Of course, beautiful and pristine also means very un-developed which ensures poor living standards and amenities…so extreme poverty for them, camping-like conditions for me (which I note, not out of complaint, but for your info since you are presumably reading this because you know me!).
After such tense times in the capital, it was nice to get away, sleep well and relax. This was our first big visit to the island and we rented a small local boat and circled the entire island, stopping at most off the 15 or so little hamlets tucked just between the beach and the hills. Some of the more notable points of my visit:
- The more populated, east side of the island is lovely. The west side is magical. The crystal clear water, coconut trees lining the beach where we pulled our little outrigger boat into, the traditional huts set back at the base of the hills, seeing children from a distance running, playing and laughing on the beach and watching everything cease in stunned reaction to the visitors (us!)… All of it, almost untouched by the external world. Life is tough here but even the people seem lighter of heart.
- We were having a community meeting in one village. About 50 people sitting on the beach (we important people got the uncomfortable, ubiquitous plastic chairs) under the trees listening intently, shyly. The meeting, as usual, progressed at a snails pace – trying to engage people and talk about what they want rather than them waiting to hear what they will get. Suddenly, the laughing and whistling of kids playing began to waft over the meeting. Not quite interrupting and yet not unnoticed. About 3 or 4 dug out canoes (hollowed out trees) were floating by filled with kids. Fishing or playing or both, they were having a lovely day in the late day sun about 50 yards off the coast. Maybe it is because I’ve been in such a heavy place for the past 2 months, but these sounds of happiness were more than welcome.
- I think the most ‘fun’ I had on this trip was the boat trip: 2 meter (yard) swells in a 6 meter wooden boat. We hugged the shore the whole way but the fact is that you are often in deep water once you are out 15 meters from the shore. Very steep and quick dropoffs! i.e. Open Water. At no point was I really worried about things like my life (could easily swim to shore) but its still a bit unnerving to be tossed about as we were.
- Do you like papaya? Seems like a simple question right. Well here, there are actually 3 edible parts of the papaya. The fruit (which I don’t like and can generally avoid easily), the leaves which are a bit bitter but can generally be prepared well and can be reasonably tasty, and the rind which just plain tastes like earwax. I learned on this trip that I don’t like the rind of the papaya.
- Soapy coffee. I don’t think I’ll ever come to like it, but I am getting used to it. It is customary to offer guests coffee upon arrival in a village here. Unfortunately, water is scarce and the dishsoap they use is hard to rinse off – particularly from the plastic cups where the soap seems to infiltrate and eternally stay. So, I stopped counting how many cups of overly sweet coffee with a hint of soap I have drunk. The one though that goes through my mind each time is “hmm, hint of soap again. This won’t be the last time I drink this.”
- Upon arrival in one village, someone disappeared and quickly returned with fresh young coconuts, clearly just picked off the tree. Pulling out a machete (a very useful, all purpose tool) the head of village quickly went to work to make a 2” dia. hole in the top of each so we could drink the mild coconut water. I’ve never been a huge coconut water fan. A few sips are always refreshing but the taste was never one I’ve taken too. However, today, I was very excited to 1) not be served yet another cup of soapy coffee and 2) quickly rehydrate (coconut water is most medicinal in the tropics!) They gestured that I should begin drinking to which I thanked them and quickly followed with a gesture to my colleagues that they as well should begin.
The truth is, I had no idea how to maneuver the coconut so the water went in my mouth and not down my shirt! We foreigners have many an embarrassing moment (they don’t use knives here – try cutting a tough piece of beef with a fork and a spoon!) and I quickly envisioned the coconut experience going that way. I’ve drunk straight out of the coconut before but always in the ‘big city’ where they stick a straw in it for you. I just couldn’t imagine being able to properly sort it all out so the water went where it was supposed to. We had an uncomfortable moment of my colleagues waiting for me (the most important person always goes first) and me waiting for them to drink so I could see how it was done!
Finally I convinced them to go ahead. I observed hand and lip placement along with the appropriate head tilting. (yes, we are still talking about drinking straight from a coconut) Still not at all sure I’d manage without feeling like a 2 year hold with her first cup of juice (mental image of coconut water pouring out of both sides of my mount and straight down my chin, neck and finally to my shirt), I gave it a try. I can happily report not a drop was lost. Something about the inner shape of the coconut controls the flow (yes, I work with water and this is how I think about liquids!) and it really isn’t so tough after all!! I’ve since had 3 or 4 more and can now confidently drink a coconut. Who said I don’t have skills?
More Gilligan’s Island stories to come…
posted by sue at 11:13 AM
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