August 20, 2002

Letter 2

Last Thursday we went to a wedding in Vila. We feel very lucky to have had the experience. It was a reintroduction to Vanuatu, without much of a transition period. Instead of spending a long time sort of feeling our way around, we were instantly dropped right into the middle of things. That's a great gift for the kids, and also a tremendous benefit for us. A lot of expatriots bond first with other expatriots. This is so easy, first because we share a lot with them, second because they are more sympathetic with what we are experiencing and actively reach out to us. Then that gets in the way of knowing the local people, because we see them through the eyes of others. It's better to bond with the local people first, and then make friends with the expatriots. Then you can complain all you want about the local people, because you have first formed your own friendships and your own opinions.

At any rate, after the customary uncertainty about arrangements, (Would Rossi come? Would Lope meet us? What time is the wedding? we made it to the wedding. When Rossi's bus stopped at PCV in Vila, Lope was waiting for us, with his wife, Roslyn. They walked us up to Sutherland House, where Lora and the girls changed clothes. We then walked back downhill to a main street to catch a van, but we saw a van go by with part of the wedding party in it. The groom's family was already going to present gifts to the bride's family. No worries. We caught a van, went off the the groom's house, and then back across town to the bride's. We were there in plenty of time. We were reintroduced to Lope's grandfather and mother, who remembered us from our visits to Emau years ago, and then we went into the yard where things were just getting underway.

We joined a long line of the groom's family, snaking around three sides of the yard, and then listened to long speeches about the three huge piles of gifts lined up. Two of the piles, including a huge pig, tied up and wrapped in a coconut frond sort of basket, were from the groom's family. The third pile was from the bride's family to the groom's family in return. Then the chief of Emau, representing the groom's family, and an old friend of the family, representing the bride's family waved leafy sticks at the piles as a sign of acceptance of the gifts. Then the bride's family lined up and shook hands all down the line of the groom's family, shaking baby powder as they went. One old man said "Sorry!" to me, and barely tapped my upper arm with the powder shaker. Others were pretty wild with it. Roslyn was dressed in a tailored dark blue suit, and stepped out of the way. The rest of us were covered. Everyone said "Hello" or "I love you!" as they went around. Then we piled back into rented vans to go back to the groom's house. During all this time, we saw neither the groom nor the bride.

We got to the groom's house, sat in the shade, and waited for the bride's family to come over to eat, about noon. The smaller pig that was a gift from the bride's family back to the groom's family died in the back of the pickup truck that brought it back, so it was dragged over across the street, butchered with machetes, and then hung from the roof of one of the cooking sheds erected in the yard. As we waited, I asked a thousand questions, and learned a lot: Lorraine and Remy, her husband, have been together about eight years. They have four kids, three boys and a smaller girl. They decided to get married in order to stop the arguing in the family about whether they should be together or not. They are legally cousins, but not biologically because Lorraine is adopted, and the family has been in a dispute about their relationship for years. With an official church wedding (which took place a couple of months ago) as well as the traditional wedding now behind them, they are indisputably married and the whole discussion should die down. Actually, this whole groom's family/bride's family thing is interesting, because practically everybody is related. Lope, for instance, could have been on either "side" and opted to be part of the groom's family. Both Lorraine and Remy wanted to skip the traditional part of the whole thing, but the family insisted. The traditions were upheld for the sake of trying to keep everybody happy.

Meanwhile, we heard a lot about a land dispute that Lope is involoved with. His grandfather gave or loaned the land near Takara village that the French school Bofatau was built on. It was wiped out in a cyclone. Now the village says that it reverts to the village. Lope says it reverts to his branch of the family. Elder Albert, a friend of mine from Takara, is the leader of the village side of the argument. Lope is the leader of the other side. Great. We will stay our of the middle, and hope they get it solved. Lope was beaten up by a couple of young men from the village, so this is not going to be easy.

This is a sad time for the family, because Lorraine's sister was murdered last January. Her husband hacked her up with a machete and then disappeared into the jungle. It took two weeks to find his body, hanged. This was on every front page of every paper in the country for weeks, and the whole place was upset. Such things do not normally happen in Vanuatu, though wife beating is common enough to have periodic campaigns against it. Anyway, the family has a lot on its mind.

So, where's the bride's family? Eventually people get tired of waiting and we eat in shifts, under a blue tarp. The girls try laplap and it's not all that bad. Lora and the girls eat a little, I eat a lot, trying to exclaim suitably over everything. It's mostly cabbage and pork soup over rice, with laplap and tulok on the side. We give up our seats at the table so others can eat, and we wait some more. Men are drinking, and there is a fight that Lope helps stop. He explains later that it was some folks from the village trying to be obnoxious because of the land dispute.

A large flatbed pulls up in front of the house. I can just see the top of the cab over the hibiscus hedge. I ask if that's the bride's family. No, Lope patiently explains, that's a garbage truck.

A string band starts playing, a bass, a couple of four-string guitars, a homemade mandolin. Most of the singers are drunk. They sing several songs, and people start dancing, including a little boy. A little girl wanders past the hanging pig and pokes a stick inside its gut cavity. Little kids are getting restless, crying for naps. We notice that there are about ten women dressed in matching turquoise island dresses. They are the relatives of the groom, in "uniform" as a sign of family solidarity. I think of bridesmaids in matching dresses.

The wooden bench is hard. Kinsey and Emily are marvelous. They just sit, taking it all in. Roslyn takes Emily next door to use the bathroom. We wait some more. Lora leans over and says, "I come away." Roslyn tells about being at Onesua last year as an assistant principal. She had trouble being a woman in charge, and more trouble because she is Seventh Day Adventist. The Presbyterians finally told her that she and Lope had to get married. They went down to a nearby village and got married with an SDA pastor instead of at Onesua in the PCV. She got kicked out at the end of the year anyway. Lope is pretty bitter, and has joined SDA. He has very little good to say about PCV except that it takes advantage of poor people and is too involved in politics. Onesua did not really provide him with a good education, etc.

Finally the bride's family comes, marching around the corner of the street, playing guitars and singing. For a little, we have two bands playing at the same time, then the visitors retire. We gather for more speeches. The "bridesmaids" go into the bride's family group and get Lorraine, her sisters and cousins and women standing in as mothers (She's an orphan.) and take them inside. In a minute, they all come back again, all wearing the turquoise dresses. Remy appears from inside, wearing a matching shirt. They get powder shaken all over them. Lorraine has a tall frond spike in her hair, decorated with feathers. Then there is a mat gift exchange. The groom's family has provided the bride's family with a list, and the bride's family has made mats for everyone on the list, beginning with Lope's grandfather. Each mat's maker is announced, each recipient is called from the crowd, recieves the mat, and then stops by Remy and Lorraine and says something. Lorraine and Remy sit looking at the ground,

One more speech about how the family is going to miss Lorraine. Lope sidles up to me and explains how now there is going to be a lot of crying. I tell him it is the same in the U.S. One at a time, the members of the bridal party file past Lorraine and say goodbye. They pat her hair, touch her face, and cry like crazy, especially the old man and woman who have stood in as her parents. This couple, maybe in their forties, who have lived together for eight years, have four kids, were married in the church months ago, will continue to live in Vila as they have been, and are both part of the same family anyway, somehow touch everybody. This is a real break, with real emotion. Lorraine is now a member of Remy's family. Much sobbing, and the bride's family straggles out. They never even ate.

After a while Lope goes in and gets Lorraine, explaining that now it is our turn. Lorraine walks over to us, and we greet each other. Yes, of course she remembers us, and marvels at how big the girls are now, and asks about Brandan and Bridget. I say that I have shown her picture with her medicine backpack to many groups in the U.S. as an example of how hard the Ni-Vanuatu work. She laughs, and says that old sack is gone. She's a head nurse at Vila General Hospital now. I also say that the dress she made for Bridget was worn by one of the girls on our arrival back in Vanuatu. She says we still look the same (!) and that our going away gift to Emau, a sack of concrete, was used to rebuild the village oven that had been ruined in a cyclone. I tell her that we would like to eat bread from that oven sometime. She laughs and agrees, and says that we are her family and we are welcome to stop at her house in Vila anytime, and that we will go to Emau again and tell stories. We talk about her work (She was on call last night.) and her sister. She invites us to stay, but we explain that we already ate and are tired and it is time to go. We meet Remy, and pile into another van.

Back at Sutherland House we play cards and talk loudly and laugh crazily and decide that it's the Ni-Vanuatu's turn to wonder what we are up to.

When we go shopping the next day, before the return trip to Onesua, we buy umbrellas, tote them up the hill to the PCV office to wait with some other stuff, return downtown for ice cream, and get caught in the rain.

The girls have been happy, working hard at their studies. We have French class every morning out on the porch. Emily has spent a lot of time running around. She has made and broken a bow, throws a wooden spear around. Kinsey helped her make a little house in the jungle behind our garden, complete with vine lashings and banana leaf roof.

There are three different kinds of geckoes in our house, though maybe one of them is a skink and another is an iguana. We're not sure.

Our closest neighbor is Robert, a Scot from Toronto who volunteered in Jamaica twenty years ago and now is back doing it all again. He teaches science and math, and is hysterically funny. He prides himself on being the supreme Scot, and lets almost nothing go to waste. He is helping us garden and keeping us laughing.

Both Emily and I are off our allergy medicine, and vowing to enjoy this honeymoon period as long as possible. Eventually, my allergist back in the states assures me, my body will begin to overreact again and I will be right back where I started, but in the meantime, it's fun to breathe without a lot of chemicals.

Writing this letter is a strange combination of modern and old-fashioned technology. I am typing on a laptop by kerosene lamp light; I am after hours for the electricity. Little bugs are attracted to the light of the screen and an occasional large, dark moth with dim markings floats by. The moon is bright and the surf is endless on the reef.

Bruce