I am a returned Peace Corps Vanuatu volunteer who is as passionate about helping refugees thrive as I am about learning from cultures all across the globe. But I am complex, and my other interests reach far and wide~ I am open to writing about nearly anything, and enjoy taking on the challenge. What are you looking to read about?
Writing these is both breaking my heart and helping me process. Hopefully there will be balance in the end. Anyhoo, here are some more to enjoy~
Learning Tolerance and Patience…then Depleting It Vanuatu, 2012-2014
All those times we asked if someone would be interested in helping or doing something and they enthusiastically agreed—often multiple times, only to show that they truly were not committed to the idea by simply not showing up. Then them not showing up for days or weeks afterward because they are “shamed” and want to avoid confrontation. All this, we’re told, because they don’t want to hurt our feelings.
Learning to understand this behavior, see the signs, behave compassionately, and work around it somewhat successfully for two years—only to lose my sh*t over it all over again two months before we leave.
One of the days a counterpart simply didn’t show up.
Dude, Kava Lost My Phone Port Narvin, 2013
That time Don went home after an evening of kava at our house, only to return ten minutes later shining a little light everywhere in search of his mobile phone. Then Papa Joe asking, “What kind of torch are you using?” Don looks at the phone in his hand, turns off its small light, then slips away back into the darkness without a word. And never lived it down thereafter.
Last kava with Don.
Manbus’s First Canned Beverage Port Narvin, Oct 2014
That time when I opened a Johnny Arrow, then realized there was some dust and dirt on top of the can. I took a deep breath to blow all the dirt off, then subsequently blew just right to make the beverage explode all over my face (and all over everything else). I remembered to check for dust BEFORE opening a can thereafter.
Me and a JA…though this story happened in our kitchen on Erromango more than a year later, not in a nice hotel room.
Our Carbon Footprint Port Narvin, 2014
All the times we knew it had been too long since we cooked over fire based on the strength of the smell our pit toilet was emitting. (10 points and a high five if you understand why.)
hint: What good are the ashes of a fire?
Studying by Osmosis—Attempted Everywhere Port Narvin beach, 2014
Remember when you were a kid and you insisted you could do homework in front of the TV, only to fall asleep on your book? Then when you thought you were witty by telling your parents you were learning by osmosis? That happens everywhere, only instead of a couch, it was sand; and instead of the TV, it was the ocean.
Port Narvin’s loooong black sand beach–favorite studying/napping grounds for just about everyone on a hot day.
For some odd reason, when we were waiting for the plane that would take us off of Erromango for the last time, Don (Peter’s counterpart and now our good friend) asked us to sign his shirt. Peter signed first, then handed me the marker. The moment I had the shirt signed, I was pulled into the throng of hugs and goodbyes as I was ushered onto the plane, the marker in one hand, its cap in the other. At the last moment, Don managed to reach through and grab the marker. As I stared out the window of the plane, Peter gets my attention to tell me “I told Don you’d end up stealing the cap to his marker.” I looked down to see that the cap was indeed still balled in my fist. Now it’s a month later and I’m typing this on one of the planes carrying us from Thailand to Utah, and I still have it.
Don and Peter Nesi preparing kava, 2013.
Nothing Gonna Slow Us Down Erromango, Nov. 2014
When our aunties, mamas, and papas sang a farewell song to us over a breakfast we couldn’t touch for lack of being able to control our sobbing; then that song starting the waterworks every single time we heard it. Exhausted by the farewells, as they all joined us on the 7 hour hike out of our village to the airport we insisted no tears while we walked. This meant they could not sing that song. Instead, we taught them Matthew Wilder’s “Break My Stride.” We sang, whistled, and hummed it together, laughing and giggling all the way to the flight that would carry us away from Erromango.
“I’ve got to keep on MOOOOVIN’!”
I Scream, You Scream, Some Don’t Scream for Ice Cream Ipota, Nov. 2014
When we had the opportunity to share ice cream with our Erromangan brothers and sisters—the first time they had ever had ice cream (or ANYTHING cold at ALL—just think about that for a minute) in their lives. We (unsuccessfully, mostly) tried to capture the looks on their faces as this sweet treat burned their tongues with its strange frozenness. Our oldest sister (11 years old) tried her best, but could not do it. Before long, most of her ice cream was added to our papa’s bowl.
A little brother (3 years old) would close his eyes, stick his tongue out, and sloooooowly move his spoonful of frozen toward the tip of his tongue like it might do something unexpected at any moment.
Just when we were sure they all hated it (though we didn’t mind, it was still worth watching them attempt it), Nesi (10 years old), emerged from the corner where he had been quietly munching, his empty bowl held carefully in both hands. He walked up to Peter to inquire, “So, how much does this ice cream cost?” We laughed and Peter told him the price, adding, “That’s why education is so important! So you can get a good job that pays enough to be able to eat ice cream every day!”
SO COLD! IT BURNS MA FINNERS!MMmmm…..so what do I have to do to be able to eat ice cream EVERY DAY???That wasn’t so bad….once it was melted!
Flashback: An Adventure Any Boyscout Would Be Ashamed Of Port Narvin-Ipota, 2013
My first time making the trek from Ipota, the location of the airport, to our village (rather than going on the ass-numbing boat ride)— We leave later than planned, but it’s a beautiful day. Raining off and on, we are kept cool, if wet. Most of our luggage is travelling by boat, so we barely have anything to carry; just water, some small snacks, and our mobile phones. Six hours after we left Ipota, we reach Cook’s Bay with just the hike over the mountain between us and our village. The sun is just beginning to go down. Friends in Cook’s Bay ask us to spend the night before hiking up and over the hill because it is getting late. We consider their offer, but we are both aching for our own bed. We trudge on.
Not long after we began up the hill, two unfortunate things occurred: 1) the calm, cooling rain turned into a downpour, turning the steep dirt path into a muddy slip and slide that would be sufficient for snowless skiing; and, 2) being relatively near the equator as well as under a dense canopy, “the sun starting to go down” suddenly turned into just plain dark.
So we hiked up and over an unfamiliar and steep and impossibly slippery hill at night in the rain, with terrible shoes (Peter in water shoes, me in soaked tennis shoes), and no light other than the pathetic torches on our mobile phones—and it was all we could do to keep the phones from getting soaked in the rain.
Our host family (still new to us at the time) called us every 10 or 15 minutes, tracking our progress like worried parents, but also making it more difficult to focus on the difficult climb due to adding the struggle of answering the phone so often. Eventually they dispatched Papa Joe to meet us close to the top of the hill and guide us down the other side.
It wasn’t until the next time I made that hike that I learned I was on a slippery path on a mountain with steep drop-offs, often on both sides of where I was walking—in the rain—at night.
Just a few hours into my first hike between Ipota and Port Narvin. Aaaah those naive and joyful moments, about to be crushed. (dundundun)
Flashback: She* Gives Me Fever Port Narvin, 2014
When all three Erromango volunteers got dengue fever in succession. Corey first: 106°f fever in the sweltering heat of March in the tropical Southern hemisphere; Peter second, an equal fever and inability to move during the nice, cool, but violent weather of Cyclone Lusi; Me third, 104°f fever that begins as soon as the sweltering heat returns, this time the heat accompanied by renewed humidity and me by a body covered in hives—oh and by frustration/envy of Peter who barely noticed the cyclone go by and enjoyed constant cool wind throughout his fever.
Cyclone LUSI! (those little outlined dots are Vanuatu’s islands. Erromango is toward the bottom of the ‘Y’)
*’She’ because, if I remember right, all mosquitoes that bite you are female. And, of course, dengue is transmitted through mosquito bites.
Oh no! We have to plan for our lives to start again now! Ah! HEEELLLPPP!!!
But really only kinda. We know what we’re doing with our lives, it’s just not starting for 6-8 months, and we don’t know where that will be yet. We want to build lives of service, starting with Peter going to law school to study social justice, and me furthering my experience in refugee resettlement assistance. But to transition from our service overseas to putting down our routes for our domestic service, we are going to need all the help we can get. Until we move to where Peter is going to school, we’re trapped in the gap, whether we mind it or not.
So we need to plan for the interim—the majority of which we’re likely spending in Northern Utah. We need to plan how we’re going to do it: where we will live, what we will do to fill our time, how/what we pay for, etc. If you’re interested and/or able to help, here’s what we’re taking into consideration:
Volunteering at IRC in SLC
Intro to volunteering Jan 7
Won’t know where we’re moving until March/April
May not be moving until August-ish
Peter wants to take post-bacc/pre-law classes
Short term income would be nice
Don’t have/want to spend money (as little as possible) until we move
Graciously want to enjoy time with hospitable friends and family without outstaying our welcome or being obnoxious or burdensome guests.
So here’s what we need your help to answer:
Where can we stay, when, and for how long (and for how much)?
Is there an opportunity for short-term employment for either of us?
Where can Peter take classes?
If we are far from volunteering/work/school commitments, what about transportation?
Any suggestions, offers, connections, tips, or anything that anyone can give us is welcome—and we are infinitely grateful to you! Thank you all in advance!
COMING SOON: more capsule stories with fantastic pictures!
But for now, anyone who is curious about what we DID here, professionally, here is my Description of Service (DOS). Peter will post his if he wants. I don’t feel comfy posting his without his permission.
Enjoy!
NICOLE ARETE
REPUBLIC OF VANUATU
After a competitive application process stressing technical experience, ambition, adaptability, and cross-cultural understanding, the United States Peace Corps invited Nicole Areté to serve as a community health facilitator in the South Pacific nation of Vanuatu from December 6, 2012 to December 5, 2014.
Training
Nicole began her 10-week Pre-Service Training on October 7, 2012. This training included the following elements:
Language: (53 hours) developed intermediate fluency in Bislama, first national language of Vanuatu.
Cross-Cultural: (47 hours) learned to appropriately navigate Vanuatu’s culture and adjust to the new lifestyle.
Technical: (127 hours) learned how to facilitate community projects and prepared for teaching various kinds of health education.
Safety and Security: (25 hours) prepared for safety and security risks in Vanuatu, ranging from potential natural disasters to personal security.
Medical: (25 hours) learned to identify and treat common ailments with only the remote help of a medical officer.
Nicole also completed the following In-Service Trainings:
Project Design and Management: (24 hours) trained for agency collaboration, community mobilization, and project planning and follow-through.
Disaster Risk Reduction: (24 hours) trained to improve a community’s preparedness in the event of a natural disaster.
Assignment
On December 6, 2012, Nicole completed training and was sworn in by Peace Corps Vanuatu’s Country Director and other Vanuatu officials as a Peace Corps Volunteer. She was assigned to the village of Port Narvin on the island of Erromango. While living in Port Narvin, Nicole facilitated health education and development activities conducive to improving her community’s health.
Port Narvin is a rural village on the island of Erromango which is located approximately 80 miles southeast of Vanuatu’s capital of Port Vila. Port Narvin has a population of less than 700 people, located approximately 80 miles southeast of Vanuatu’s capital of Port Vila. Reaching the village from the nation’s capital requires hours of both boat and plane travel. Nicole was assigned a host family who adopted her as their own. She learned to adjust to their lifestyle. Living in a house of bamboo and thatch, she regularly engaged with her host family and other community members, as is traditional, both in her kitchen and theirs. She learned to cook traditional food, wash laundry by hand, take part in traditional ceremonies, and much more. She accomplished these feats while living without electricity, indoor plumbing, or climate control of any sort. Nicole’s achievements were due to the strong relationships she developed with family and friends she lived and worked with.
Activities For Fulfillment Of Primary Objectives
Made herself available as a resource for health information, including a community Question Board located on the village’s main road where people submitted health inquiries. Answers were publically displayed on the board for all to see and learn from.
Provided training to local counterparts to developed skills such as completing Higher Education applications, writing formal letters to government agencies, and completing grant applications.
Trained a local health worker to create and implement health outreach workshops. After the first year, she was no longer afraid to speak on health issues publicly and was designing workshops on her own.
Taught supplemental as well as curriculum-based health classes collaboratively with local teachers. These included a supplemental health and hygiene class with Class 10 students at Danpy Secondary School as well as co-teaching creatively implemented health curriculum to Classes 1-4 in Port Narvin Primary School.
Collaborated with other volunteers and various local partners to run health workshops. Some examples are: STIs and Youth workshop, Family Planning with SDA Mamas, Four Kinds of Health with the combined villages of Erromango, and several other workshops on hygiene, sanitation, and various other health topics.
Coordinated “Run for Your Life,” a biweekly sports and running program for women with the goal of reducing rate and impact of NCDs.
Conducted two community-wide surveys. One to acquire general community health baselines, the other to collect community opinion with regard to a development project.
Facilitated and supervised planning and management of Port Narvin Rain Tank Project, providing the entire village with a reliable source of potable water.
Created a team of Class 6 students and supervised their designing and building of hand washing facilities at their school.
Conducted amateur eye screening with local counterparts at Port Narvin Primary School to assist teachers in meeting the needs of their students.
In addition to these accomplishments, Nicole was instrumental in bringing the renowned Grassroot Soccer Peace Corps SKILLZ program to the Pacific Region for the very first time. Nicole ran the pilot program for Vanuatu youth first in an urban local and then repeated the program in a rural setting. SKILLZ is a program for youth that combines soccer with life skills training and Adolescent Reproductive Health education. Nicole also created well-developed materials adapting the program to Vanuatu’s needs and culture, as well as translating printed materials into Bislama.
Secondary Projects
Conducted a Study Hour with 30-40 students and parents from every Class Level each school night. The objective was to teach students effective study habits and teach parents positive ways to help and support their children. This time included playing educational games, providing extra homework, and answering questions for both students and parents.
Organized Port Narvin’s youth group “Yut i Laev Bakegen,” a youth empowerment group, and helped them facilitate community-wide fundraisers to support development in the community and other projects.
Held study sessions where adults would trade lessons in the local language, Sye, for English practice.
Taught “Kitchen Kindy”: a program where 3-5 pre-school students would practice their alphabet and other pre-reading skills with Nicole. This program was designed to augment Nicole’s twice-weekly visits to the Pre-school to teach pre-reading skills and demonstrate positive teaching practices.
Facilitated formation of the Unurvati Environmental Network (UEN), a network of committees committed to managing and preserving the island’s resources. Nicole particularly assisted in creating the official UEN Guideline Document.
Throughout her second year, Nicole held a Friday night “Girl’s Night” with her oldest host sister where they practiced English, taught each other about their cultures, and discussed topics relevant to her host sister’s upcoming adolescence.
Directed, edited, and produced a music video with and for the Port Narvin community.
Nicole Areté completed her Peace Corps service in Vanuatu on December 5, 2014.
2012- open-minded and humbled; 2013- stop caring about spelling (doesn’t matter in Bislama) and can literally FEEL my thoughts slow and simplify, the quality (and vocabulary!) deteriorating; 2014- thankful to see that my cognitive regression was not permanent—or at least, I’m either getting back up to speed or getting used to my newly simplified mental existence; second half of 2014- spent panicking because it’s all not coming back fast enough, no spelling looks right, and why can’t I think of that damn word?!?! (any of them!)
An example of writing in Bislama. Take a look at this and maybe my story will be easier to understand. “Komputa Literasi Klas,” for example.
Boogeykids! main road in Port Narvin, 2014
Starting with little Nesi (9), the students would hide in bushes, behind trees, in the grass, and try to jump out and scare us on our way home from homework hour (in the dark). This generally resulted in us chasing them all screaming across the village. Nearly every night.
He’s a boogeyman alright. I see it in his eyes. Teehee~ this is Nesi, inspiration of the boogeykids. ❤
Ants Schmants everywhere 2013-2014
All those times we opened some invaluable food item to find it covered in ants or full of boll weevils, or something of the sort—and that it simply meant spending a minute or two pulling off the most visible bugs before enjoying anyway.
THIS is a peach cobbler. Made with special imported, lugged to the island and otherwise unavailable ingredients, then cooked in an oven that is a hole in the ground with a fire in it (basically dutch oven)…. this thing was valuable beyond measure. So when we couldn’t finish the whole thing in one sitting, but we came back to it later to find it covered in ants? Well I didn’t NOTICE that it was more crunchy……
Nakamal Sardines Rungu Nakamal 2013
That time we were swarmed with students of all ages, as we were every night to help them study—packed around the table like sardines—and suddenly Alikton looks up, crunches his nose and whines, “Mr. Peter, wan man i fart!”
We were always too busy to get pictures while packed in like sardines. So here’s a picture of the roof of the nakamal. Natangura is the name of the grass they make the thatch out of.
Learning to Fly Port Narvin to Ipota, 2014
That time when I walked from Port Narvin to Ipota with my friend Susian, determined to maintain HER pace. 4 hours and 40 minutes later, I had completed the hike that before had taken me 7-8 hours each time. Just as I began to feel pretty impressed with myself, Susian turned around to “hurry and get back to Port Narvin before it got dark,” completing the 15 mile hike twice in one day.
While she (leisurely, for her) sped back, I reclined and realized that I wasn’t going to be able to walk normally for at least a couple of days. In all my humility, I spent the majority of those two days bragging.
Just one part of the walk~ over the many times I’ve done this walk, the time I sped over these razor sharp rocks, rather than carefully take my time, was the one time I didn’t slip and draw blood. Maybe there’s something to that.
Who Needs a Pee Bucket? our house, Port Narvin 2013
Some volunteers, not being fans of going out into the weather and/or night for their toilet needs, reserve a ‘pee bucket’ for the purpose. I am proud to say, Peter and I never resorted to such an extreme.
But the day I accidentally locked Peter inside the house for half the day, he became extra grateful that we had a new kitten, and the litter box became the exception.
I got your back, human.
Learning to Swim, Port Nouma 2012
Playing in about 4’ of water, we tried to coax our 2 ½ month old puppy into the water for her first swim. She whined and cried, touching the water with her paws, then jumping away repeatedly. As I called and cooed her name, Peter snuck up behind me and pulled me under the water, making it look like I would drown. Instantly our little wriggly puppy dove into the water and swam to my rescue.
Giaman Kanu! Port Nouma 2012
Auntie Yam and I playing with logs in a river, trying to balance on them like they were real canoes. We played and laughed like we were 9 years old, at the ripe (and shared) age of 27. A great introduction to my new family and community.
Nicole, the Dancer and High-Fiver, family nakamal, Port Narvin 2014
What 20 month old doesn’t LOVE attention? Well, this one more than most. So when her mom tries to stop her from eating rice covered in hot chili sauce, she naturally needs to sneak an entire spoonful into her mouth. All looks fine at first. Then, just as Peter says, “There’s not much hot sauce, just enough to make it tangy probably,” we see her expression begin to change.
Her top lip transforms into a squished ‘M’ and her lower lip a “W”. Then out comes the tongue and her mouth slowly stretches wide open, becoming almost as large and round as her alarmed eyes. But does this girl cry? Oh no, she just pants and laughs with us (Mama Claudie, Peter and I, who are rolling on the floor) even as her mouth is stretched as wide as possible. And what does she do the moment we all recover? Where did that plate of rice go?!?!?!
“Bring shoes you can cross a river in.” Cooks Bay 2013
That time when Triston and Karen casually, but with difficulty, swam across the Cook’s Bay river, both in their shoes and Triston in a nice button-up shirt. They were ready for anything. Well, nearly anything. 😉
Walking down the main road in our rural village, we hear a commotion heading our way. Dogs, chasing something. Kids yelling and chasing not far behind. Must be a chicken trying to escape the saucepan.
We wait and listen as the noise moves in our direction. Then boom! A pig comes flying out of some bushes, 8 or 10 dogs frantically barreling right behind. The small pig swooshes past us and down to the beach. Another unfortunate pig tied to a tree nearby squeals as it’s confused for its brother by one of the dogs. Before we know it, the pig that had shot past us like a bullet was splashing into the ocean and began to swim. A pig! Swimming in the ocean! The dogs are too afraid of the waves to continue in their pursuit. We watch as the latest refugee grows smaller and smaller, paddling straight out into the bay.
“Pigs can swim?!” I asked my host pappa. “Of course,” he answered, “but they usually just get eaten by sharks.”
There’s a meal i never imagined on a shark’s menu: bacon.
We later learned that the pig managed to swim around and come out at the end of the bay, several kilometers away. Super pig!
The Universality of Toilet Humor, our kitchen, Port Narvin 2014
That one time over dinner in our kitchen when Esther (age 8) farted loudly, and the ever-silent Mama Claudie, Alisia, Nesi and I didn’t recover from our giggles for at least 10 minutes. Then Mama Claudie told Esther she must have had an inflated balloon in her stomach—then let go. Another 10 minutes of giggles.
Ben the Co-Op Keeper, Port Narvin 2014
The store keeper who blamed Peter for his store never having any peanut butter. Corey visits:
Corey: “Good morning, Ben! I need peanut butter!”
Ben: “Sorry—Peter buys all of them!”
Um. NE Erro Council HQ, Port Narvin 2014
That one time when the conversation at a Gender-Based Violence workshop digressed into a 20 minute debate about whether women have moustaches as often as men. (Gender, or sex?)
Teaching Life Skills to One Eleven Year Old at a Time, our kitchen, Port Narvin 2014
The first time I played the Game of Life Card Game with my sister Alisia, we practiced stealing each other’s pets, husbands, and children for two hours, laughing harder than we ever had together.
When I was a little girl, I wanted to grow up to be a wildlife vet. My life goal was to someday pet a real cheetah. My favorite channel was Animal Planet and my best friend was my dog, Booboo. My family rescued animals and I adored each of them and sobbed like it was the end of the world when one of them died.
Then I grew up~ and put myself through university grooming dogs. I met most of my best friends through taking care of their pets. For years, my life was philosophy and dogs.
Then I joined the Peace Corps. I came to a country where people don’t always take exquisite care of themselves, let alone animals; where dogs steal people’s food, make things dirty, shit everywhere and do nothing to help a family except on the rare occasion they go hunting. Cats are good to have around (better than the rats), but still dirty and a sanitation risk. Both will steal baby chickens and eggs. Similar to many rural developing countries, dogs and cats are not exactly part of the family but instead dirty animals that simply live alongside humans and only have minimal purpose. Some people even consider dogs and cats best when roasting over a fire. To do so relieves the problem of an animal that steals protein and instead makes them a source of protein.
Many volunteers come and understandably have a difficult time adapting to this atmosphere. As you may guess, myself not least of all. But then by the end of two, three, four or more years of living here, they adapt. I have met volunteers that have not only gotten over it, but have tasted and/or also come to detest cats and dogs in the same way many local people do. We even have one fellow volunteer who has since admitted to me that he initially hated me for how invested I was in the dogs in our training village. (I’ll forgive this volunteer, who I have come to think of as family, for this judgment if s/he forgives me this post. 😉 )
When I was in the depth of my culture shock (maybe 1-2 months in), I was torn~ I needed to get through the shock and learn to live with it if I was going to succeed in completing my service. But I didn’t want to become detached from and lose my compassion for life beyond the category of human.
As you can see, I made it through my service and (at the time of writing this) have a mere two months left. So I got through it one way or another. If you have seen my facebook pictures, you’d also see that I am posting pictures and videos of our dog, cat, and pig (ok, our family’s pig) almost as often as I am of people. Clearly I have not turned into a dog beating, cat hating person. But I also don’t burst into tears when I see a hungry, flea-ridden dog limping down the road. If I were still in that place, I would have gone back to the States a long time ago and been a traumatized mess.
They don’t have to be fury to be loved! This guy loved me back–I couldn’t get him off me!
I have come to know the people. I have come to know the culture, the context, the animals, and a bit of the history. I have gotten used to seeing drastically unhealthy and uncared for animals on a daily basis. Just as anyone who regularly visits any city knows, when you see something often enough, such as a starving and unhealthy beggar on the side of the road, you learn to walk past without turning your head. Part of this is unfortunate desensitization that holds us back from being as great affecters of change as we could be. But whether it’s some level of habitually turning your head from beggars, broken animals, horrific world news, tragedies even in your own neighborhood, or whatever, this behavior is a necessary coping mechanism that all humanity needs in order to be as adaptable as we are. While we should be aware of this natural coping mechanism, aware enough to not let it get in our way of making the world a better place, we should also forgive ourselves for it.
Before I came here, people who weren’t as radical in their animal loving as me would criticize me for equating animals with human beings. I would come back and say that we’re not equal. Animals aren’t capable of the atrocities that humans are capable of. In addition to learning to forgive myself for peacefully living alongside suffering in order to do my part as a Peace Corps volunteer, I have also learned that animals are a lot more like human beings than I could have imagined.
Being responsible for their own acquisition of food does not result in animals sitting around a dinner table together to share their meals. Mating among free roaming animals does not look like some friendly flirting followed by peaceful consensual intercourse. Being territorial isn’t solved with white picket fences. In the best and worst health, I have seen dogs: tear each other apart over something that might be a shred of food; males violently attack a female when she’s in heat and willing to kill any male that comes near; nearly destroy each other for walking near their family’s house; and so much more. I have had a male cat break INTO our house in the middle of the night to attack our brand new (male) kitten because, I guess, he was in his territory—and bandaged wounds time and time again that were inflicted by this bastard (who also steals my family’s baby chicks instead of catching rats). I have seen that 90% of chicken reproduction looks very violent and non-consensual (I concede that there may be some humor in that—or at least in reading about it). And I could name an equal number of endearing moments of loyalty and love among non-homo-sapiens.
So long story short, I have learned that I too am subject to one of humanity’s greatest strengths and weaknesses: adaptability that learns to ignore things that could otherwise hold us back. I have learned that humans and animals are more alike than I thought—I already knew that animals can be loyal, loving and wonderful, but I’ve also learned that animals are capable of incredible viciousness just like humans. And I have learned that in spite of all this, I still am full of love for living things of all shapes and sizes. I have learned to understand non-animal lovers better, and feel compassion for the causes behind their inability to connect with other species in this way. My compassion may have changed shape, but it has not been diminished. It has grown stronger and expanded. Through a human perspective, all life has it’s own light, dark, and plenty of grey, and every day I am learning to better appreciate the balance.
❤
If you got through this and just need a little more cuteness to make it worthwhile, click here.
When joining the Peace Corps, I hoped to do my part to lift up humanity, pile unique and diverse experience into my theoretical personal bio, and most likely endure groundbreaking self-revelations along the way. In one way I got it right, but in another, what the flug did I know? (‘flug’ ™ by Nompunvi) The following is a list accompanied by some anecdotes of what I really didn’t know I would learn and experience. My goal in sharing these reflections is to perhaps preserve some of these life lessons for myself, but also share them with anyone interested in the kind of personal growth that is endured during an adventure such as this one. After all, every one of us has so many inimitable life lessons, imagine how much we all learn by sharing them. After reading, please post any stories, words of wisdom, jokes, whatever in the comments. This is just a sampling from my Peace Corps experience, but it’s better than nothing. I have learned that: And… As time passes and I continue to reflect, these lists will likely come to look incredibly quaint. Nevertheless, never underestimate the importance of looking back on your life, seeing the good and the bad, and making the greatest effort to appreciate every moment of what you achieve, of what you learn, and everything else. All of our ambitions, accomplishments, and challenges are unique in so many ways. Take the time to remember it. And share it, so we can all learn from each other. That said, don’t forget to share a story or two in the comments! “There are some things that you can’t know Unless you’ve been there But oh how far we could go If we started to share” -Ani DiFranco
This blog is solely our thoughts and opinions and do not reflect those of the Peace Corps or the United States government
Aretés in Vanuatu 