Electrification of the Village

One major project we are working on is to bring electricity to the village. Last year the Department of Energy gave us a quotation for how much we would have to contribute to extend the grid from Nabouwalu to reach us. They only surveyed the main village and didn't include any of our seven settlements. Over half the people in our community live in the surrounding settlements.

We recently submitted a request for a new survey to be done that would include all the settlements as well, arguing for inclusive development. We will only have to raise 5% for the total project and the government will donate the rest. We raised a motion in the District meeting yesterday to get the local government's support for electrification. They said they would support us and ask someone to come to our next village meeting to talk about it.

One the way back from the meeting, a man was stopped on the road and already surveying the village! He was drawing a scheme plan with all the houses and connecting lines.

Hopefully by this time next year all 117-ish houses in our community will have electricity! While it takes some of the romance away from living in a rural coastal village, I'm pretty sure I'm the only one there who looks at it that way. Everyone is looking forward to it as an improvement to the standard of living. It will also hopefully  help bring the settlements and the village together, as often the settlements are left out of big projects.

I guess I wouldn't complain if I could have a small refrigerator! Dreams of yogurt, cheese, and cold beer are filling my head!

Even Further into the Bush

Since we were busy in the village during my birthday, Solo and I decided to take a little excursion the weekend afterward. We traveled northward five hours by bus to Seaqaqa, the place where he grew up, to visit his Mom, step-father, and sisters.

Seaqaqa location on Vanua Levu

I hadn't taken the bus north out of Nabouwalu since May! They have been making a lot of progress on the road. They are paving the 69km from Nabouwalu to Dreketi, building 14 high-standard bridges, and 240 culverts. This is going to be a major highway for the North. I was trying to calculate how many millions of truckloads of dirt are being moved, but it made my brain hurt!

Moving earth for the new road.

It's going to be a real highway. I can't even imagine it.

 When we got off the bus at Seaqaqa we paid for a truck to take us to the settlement where Solo's family  lives. We were dropped off on the side of a small dirt road in the middle of some fields and trekked a mile into the woods, tottered across log stream crossings with our bags, and finally reached their house in a clearing in the coconut trees. Such a solitary setting was quite a change from our village where we are surrounded by dozens of other households.

Seaqaqa hills.

Solo at the front door.

The house was quaint but it was in a beautiful setting at the base of the foothills. There was no bathroom or shower. We bathed in the river and peed in the yard. Luckily years of working on trail crew didn't even make me blink an eye about this. We did a small sevusevu, relaxed, went running with some of Solo's cousin-brothers and met lots of extended family and friends around the grog bowl.

On Sunday we walked the mile to the local Methodist church. We sat on the floor and a nice lady let me share her hymnal so I could join in the singing. The preacher thanked Solo for returning to where he grew up. It was kind of a big deal in the Fijian tradition of taking me to be properly introduced to his family. Solo was born in our village and is part of the landowning clan there, but he was brought up my his grandmother and Mom in Seaqaqa. His Mom just got remarried last year. She comes to visit in the village every so often. 

Walking to church.

Nadogo Methodist church.

Solo's little sis, Sia, at church.

On the way to church Solo's Step-dad, Mo Peipei, entertained me with large insects! If you catch a kakalu (cicada) and trap it in your hands, it will cry and others will come flocking to you.

My new uncle with a swarm of cicadas on his back.

Closeup of the kakalu, or cicada.

Dead cicada "shells".

 Solo tried to explain the cicada life cycle to me in Fijian, but I was uncertain, so I looked it up. So neat that he knew all about it without ever having learned it in a science class at school.

Cicada life cycle. ( http://www.massaudubon.org/Nature_Connection/wildlife/index.php?subject=Insects&id=4 )

They have a resident chicken who just showed up one day out of the bush and decided to make herself at home. She comes inside everyday and lays eggs on the bed. There are no boy chickens around. They just got super lucky and named her "Lady".

Solo and "Lady" :)

The mini-trip was great. It was nice to share something kind of special with Solo. We didn't end up being able to get his birth certificate and the local school has no record of him ever attending, but we didn't let that get us down for more than a few minutes. We got a new birth certificate in town and applied for his passport in Savusavu where I spent a few days working. As for school, we're still working on that...

Proposed Protected Areas Passed by Village Leaders

Village meetings (bose vakoro) are painful and important.

This year my birthday fell on village meeting day, which (most of the time) happens every month. The village meeting is where just about anything that’s happening in the village (and I mean anything!) gets discussed. But it’s also the forum where important decisions are made. For example, if we have an idea for a project to do in the community, it first needs to get passed in the Bose Vakoro. It is supposed to happen the first Monday of the month, but it depends on what is going on in the village. This month that date fell in the middle of building the new dam and water tank.

The Bose Vakoro is different in every village. Ours usually takes 4-6 hours (that's the painful part). It begins with someone from the Bose Vanua (the traditional council) giving a mini-lecture about how the village is falling to pieces because no one respects traditional protocols anymore, etc.  Then the minutes from the last village meeting are read and people can comment/ask questions about things that were brought up last time. This usually takes a lot of time because generally not much has been done about said previous issues, etc. Then each mini-committee in the village gives their report about what they have been doing for the last month or anything they are proposing to do. Followed again by questions/comments. Lastly, the meeting is opened up for anyone to raise miscellaneous issues concerning the community.

Before, I used to be my own special committee and have my own slot in which to talk. Now, most of the things I am involved in are brought up by the Development or Yaubula (Environment) Committees, since we work closely together. This makes me happy that others have taken ownership of projects and activities. I still give a short report sandwiched in there. For the greater part of this year, I’ve been preparing my report ahead of time in Fijian -- whereas before I used to just say it in English. 

This was a special Bose Vakoro because we were able to persuade the traditional council to sit down together the night before and discuss some important matters related to our fishing grounds.This is no easy task to get the village leader and the leaders of each clan to sit down together, but we requested them to let the Yaubula Committee do a presentation to them. Our environment committee has been working on creating environmental bylaws, management rules, and proposed protected areas for the past 6 months. One awesome and eloquent representative from our committee sat down with them to share our propositions and also explain background information on why we are proposing them. This was such a crucial step! Our traditional leaders don't have much scientific background, but they have a lot of traditional knowledge and are the key decision makers for what activities can take place on the land and in the sea. 

Last year they approved one small marine protected area for our village, but there wasn't much planning put into it. They said it was tabu, but we didn't talk about how long it would be protected, etc. But after our participation in the district workshops over the past few months, we were able give some solid suggestions for management guidelines that can protect our environment but also provide benefits to the local people.

Here is brief description of the 5 protected areas that were proposed and approved by our village leaders:

• Mata ni Wai Vuya/ Mata ni Wai Natwea: Two terrestrial protected areas, each extending 100m above our two main drinking water sources (dams) where farming, use of chemicals, cutting trees, and tying animals will be prohibited. This is to protect our drinking water from contamination.

• Natobu Tabu: Our current tabu fishing area, to be a 5 year ban on fishing and harvesting where we will grow and sustainably harvest sea cucumbers for sale to generate income for a village scholarship account. This area extends for the beach, including mangroves, out across the reef flat and After 5 years the tabu area will be reviewed. If the village is in favor of it and feels it is providing benefits, it can be extended or maybe moved to a new location. (Note: 5 years is the recommended minimum time limit in which to protect an area in order to see lasting improvements in habitat health and return of dwindling species.)

 

• Natarani Tabu: This is a small offshore reef that will be protected, but villagers will be allowed to fish there during special village functions such as funerals, weddings, etc with the permission of the Bose Vanua. This is called a periodically harvested protected area, and care can be given to limit the amount of time and/or gear used to fish here so as not to lose the benefits of protection in one quick raping of the reef.

• Kawakawa and Naitaga Tabu: This is the area between Natobu and Natarani and it will be permanently protected. It includes the edge of the reef flat and the deeper channel. Here we are hoping to be able to set up oyster spat collection nets and breed giant clams. It will also serve as a sanctuary for fish to breed. Fish do not stay inside the boundaries, obviously, and the "overflow" can support the local fisherfolk.

These proposed areas were also accepted by the Bose Vakoro. The next step is to get the support of those outside our village. We need the approval of the district chief and support from the other communities who share the same fishing ground. This will again involve traditional protocol and is  very important in order for this work to be sustainable and supported by all.

It might only be a small step forward but I am thankful for each little bit of progress we make. I can't think of anything else I could have wished for on my birthday than that.

One Monkey Don't Stop the Show

I’ve never considered myself a runner, but I run. I got into running in high school when friends on the cross-country team recruited me just to have enough girls to make a full team (you needed 5). It wasn’t really a priority for me, but I trained with them during summers and ran in meets that didn’t interfere with soccer games. I remember clearly the first time I ran more than three miles. It seemed like such a big accomplishment at the time. 

I started to run on my own after that. I ran to stay fit. I ran through teenage angst. I ran through heartbreaks. I ran to try to get off those freshmen 15.

 Now I run mostly because there isn’t a whole lot else I can do. Because I live on a dirt road along a beautiful coastline. Because it sets an example for others to be physically active. Because it clears my head. 

In my area, I am the white girl who runs. I am sure many other PCVs have similar labels based on activities they do that local people do not do. I’ve been asked if I am a soldier. No, I just want to be healthy is apparently not an acceptable response. But they get it, kind of. The boys all train for rugby matches during different times of the year. So each day as I head down to the road, I am greeted by friendly questions asking if I am going training. And each day I say yes. 

Sometimes this has been true -- that I have been training, that is. I trained and ran my first half-marathon in New Zealand in early 2012. I began training for a full marathon early this year, because, Hey, why not? I was not however, successful in achieving this goal.

There is always risk running on your own. Anywhere. As an adolescent Dad would tell me horror stories of girls who would go jogging and all that were later found were their running shoes. I never wanted to be one of those girls. But I also didn’t want fear to stop me from enjoying life. You have to calculate your risks in everything, I suppose. 

I feel safe running in my area. Everyone knows me, and people along the road are looking after me. If I didn’t come back, there would be a search party. I don’t run at night but early evening when there is reasonable traffic. Now, Solo usually runs with me thanks to the pair of old running shoes, or “canvas”, that Sarah left when she came to visit.

I don’t really feel safe running in town, and especially Suva. There are so many people, not to mention they don’t know me, and the city just plain makes me nervous because of how busy it is. However, in May when I was about half way into my training schedule for the marathon, I had to take a trip to Suva and couldn’t really afford to lose training time because of it. I headed out on a Sunday morning for a 13 mile run. I figured this would be the best time to run because most people would be in church. It was a little after 8am when I started. I felt a little awkward because in the village it is tabu for me to run on Sundays, but I wasn’t in the village. I also couldn’t get anyone to go with me because I guess 13 miles can be a bit much.

Somewhere around mile 10 a man jumped me from behind and tackled me off the side of the road. In the first second I thought it was someone coming up behind me like they often do in the village and hugging me. Who is this I know in Suva? In the second moment my instincts kicked in, my heartbeat skipped; there was a horrible pit in my stomach. This is a bad person.

 I was rounding a bend in the road where houses were just out of view. We did not roll down the hill, which was probably his plan. He pulled at my clothes, he kissed at my neck and face, his hands were in my shorts. I was screaming, kicking, and punching. I hit his face hard. Somehow my finger got into his mouth and he bit down, hard. I kept screaming and writhing. The houses are just out of site. Oh please someone hear me! Why can’t I yell like a cheerleader? He does not have a weapon. Keep fighting! You aren’t going to die. This is what I remember thinking. 

Miraculously, I heard cars coming! Three cars drove towards us and he got up and ran. I got up too. I was waving my arms at the cars and pointing at the man running away. He was barefoot. He was wearing baggy jean shorts, or three-quarters as they call them here. He had a blue baseball cap in his hand. He wasn’t much taller than me.

The cars drove past. I was so angry. I was so scared. I was bawling. I was alone.

The cars had turned up the road in the direction he ran, and so he turned and ran back down the other way, past the intersection where I was walking towards. I screamed at the top of my lungs, FUCK YOU! He turned and looked, surprised, but kept on running. I could hear the futileness of my scream as it echoed off nothing and met no other ears.  

I felt so helpless. I didn’t know what to do. It all happened so fast and then it was over. Adrenaline pumped through my veins. I am okay. I am lucky. 

One of the vehicles turned around and stopped for me. It was a kind, old Indo-Fijian man in a nice SUV. He asked if I was okay, where I was staying. He gave me a ride back to the PCV’s house where I was staying. I should have got his info, he was a witness. But I wasn’t thinking. You shouldn’t run by yourself, he said. I know, I know.

 

Carol was so sweet in helping me call the PC staff. I called our Safety and Security Officer, who immediately called the PC doctor, who came right over even though she was in church. He also called our Country Director who arranged to meet us at the office right away. I waited to shower until the doc had a look over. Besides some scrapes from the fall, my bitten finger was the only physical worry. Mentally, I was numb. I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel. I laughed as I told the S&S officer how I punched the man in the face, but it was a strange foreign laugh. I didn’t feel like I should be upset. I hadn’t actually gotten raped. Other women have endured much worse. A kind of forced stoicism came over me. Be strong, I told myself. And there were no more tears.

Peace Corps treated the issue efficiently and gently. It was my call whether or not to take the matter to the police. It was my call if I wanted to take some leave. There would be counseling available if I wanted it. What I wanted were hugs.

We went to the police. More of a matter of principle than me expecting any sort of justice to ever come of it. As far as taking leave, it happened that the very next day my two best girlfriends were landing in Nadi and we were to be briskly whisked off on a boat to paradise. 

Paradise seemed very far away as I sat in the police station and filled out a police report, re-telling the story for the 6^th time while a blood-crusted drunkard caused a ruckus in the other room. I wish the policewoman and my Security Officer would just fricking speak in English to me! It was not the time to be pushing my language skills!

There was not much more we could do at that point. The Fiji police have vehicles few and far between. (And I just realized as I write this that they do not carry weapons.) There would be no hunt. The only chance of capture would be if he were turned in for a similar offense. Then I could be called in to try and identify him. 

My girlfriends were boarding a plane in LA and I knew that the best antidote to the feelings of hurt and hatred would be the love they were bringing. That and a week spent half naked basking in the sun, a world away from the real Fiji, with something rummy in my tummy.

It was a grand time out at Octopus Resort in the Yasawas. Highly recommended!

But after a week of this…

 

… it was back to reality. And reality kind of bit… like a lot. I am so thankful my girls were here, even if I wasn’t ready to open up and talk about anything. There were lots of held back tears. I had to revisit the scene of crime, for lack of better words, twice on the day we went back in Suva. PC and I had to go pick up the lady constable in charge of the new Sexual Assault Unit because she had no transport. I had to fill out yet another report, telling the story over again. Get me back to Bua, snap!

It was so fun having the girls in the village. That deserves an entire post. I finally broke down in Solo’s arms. We cried together as he held me on my kitchen floor, the girls sleeping in the other rooms. There was something about having man with strong arms whose only intention was to love me and not hurt me, who held me as I cried, who promised to be my protector, that made me feel better than even my best girlfriend’s could. 

I don’t hate anyone, but I hate you

Your nameless face who tried to hurt me

I hate you because you didn’t succeed

And yet I’m left in fear

Your ghost runs behind me

I feel you following me around each bend

Over and over you pounce

You and the multiplicity of your rotten self

On innocent souls all over the world

For me it is just fear

For many a worse reality

Fuck you. Fuck your diseased spirit.

Sometimes you overtake me

But in the end I win.

We win.

Those who keep on running.

It took me a while to be ready, but I wanted to share this story because I know that there are many others, and many Peace Corps Volunteers, who have faced similar, and much worse, scenarios. I wanted to share this story because I want to banish the fear that man left with me. I want to forgive him. 

Love conquers hate.

District and Village Planning Moves Forward

Last week we had a District Resource Planning Workshop in Navave Village. This was the second workshop of a series designed to help communities come together to discuss environmental issues, think about possible solutions, and work toward a solid governance structure/plan for sustainably managing natural resources in our district. 

The first workshop was held in June, after general awareness sessions about eco-system based management principles had been completed in each village. Every village was asked to elect a few representatives to attend the district workshop. It was advised that there should be a mixture of men, women, and youth. Most villages came and there were a few women and youth. At that workshop we identified targets, threats to achieving them, causes of those threats, and potential strategies for addressing them. This exercise is called conceptual modeling.  It was divided into 3 habitat types: terrestrial, freshwater, and coastal/marine. 

After the workshop, the team from our village took the initiative to form their own Yaubula, or environment, committee. They gathered at my house on a Sunday afternoon and planned how to share what they learned at the workshop during the next village meeting. 

At this recent workshop, we revisited the outcomes of the first workshop, because some new people and villages that weren’t able to participate the first go-round were in attendance. We talked more about management rules and strategies, but some of the focus was on building the capacity of the attendees to go back and be agents of change in their communities.

Wildlife Conservation Society, with the help of Seaweb, facilitated the workshop. I was there to provide general support and work with the team from my village.

Some days it can feel like two years of work hasn’t amounted to much because things happen so slowly. And some days it’s all you can do not to give up, especially when some gossipy ol’ lady in your community asks your boyfriend what you’ve been doing all this time. That hurts. But when we attended this workshop we were actually an example for the other villages. My fellow community members were standing up on their own and sharing ideas and strategies for good practices and tips for problem solving. I felt so proud of them!

Real change doesn’t take place over night. But change is happening on Fiji time. 

One lesson that I’ve learned is the importance of building a team in the community. It’s something we’ve learned together. It has taken a lot of trial and error, various projects and committees, building relationships and trust, and just a lot of time learning how things work behind the scenes in a rural village to get to where we are now. But I’m happy to say that we are on our way to writing our own village natural resource management plan. We intend to seek funding for implementation, which will also include some income generating projects. And I’m not doing it alone.

I’d say our biggest advice to other communities wishing to “develop” would be to first take a hard look at your community and the way you work together. There is both the traditional and administrative structure to consider.  There can be a lot of other dividing lines to reach across. If you can identify a few key people to stand up and keep fighting to knock down those divisions -- that’s the best place to start. There’s not a whole lot of use rushing into having any type of community-wide or district-wide plan, if there isn’t a strong foundation for people to work together to implement it.

The more I’m involved in NRM planning activities in Fiji at the various scales (community, district, provincial, national), the more I’ve realized how the key to sustainable resource management is with the communities. They are the ones who are going to be ones on the ground doing the work in the end. 

But the scale at which to do NRM planning is a hot debate. Neither government or NGOs can target every community, there aren’t enough resources. And we must always consider the scale at which ecosystems function. It’s much larger than a village. 

If we can’t engage all communities from the bottom up, the district level isn’t a terrible solution. It can focus on building the capacity of key individuals who can then facilitate the trickling down of information and processes. Taking what they learn back to the communities and being an agent of change. 

One of the best outcomes for me to see at the workshops was communities discussing amongst themselves their unique issues and really considering ways that they could work better together, as a pre-cursor to what will be a later conversation of how the various communities can join together.

That’s not going to be an easy task, to create a working governance structure at the district level. There are subtle rivalries getting in the way. There are sensitive traditional issues people do not like to talk about. I’m akin to some of them, but it is not my place to speak up about them. Our Yaubula Committee is working to build a stronger relationship with our Bose Vanua, or the elders, in our village as a place to start. 

Workshop participants at the Navave workshop. Can you find me? :)