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November 26, 2002
Hello from Vanuatu!
It's hard for us to imagine all the different places this letter
will reach. We hope that all of you, wherever you may be, take
a minute and imagine yourself on a small island in the South Pacific.
The skies are a brilliant blue, or covered with low gray clouds,
swept along by the steady trade winds. Onesua Presbyterian College,
a collection of long, one-story cinderblock buildings laid perpendicular
to the breeze, sits right on the coast. The campus is lovely,
with wide lawns and stately coconut trees, and the surf is continually
breaking on the reef.
Lora and I, with our two daughters, Kinsey (14) and Emily (12),
arrived in Vanuatu in August to begin a three-year assignment
as teachers. We served at Onesua from 1992 to 1994, so in a way
this was a homecoming for us. It was good to see old friends,
and to remark on the many changes that the last ten years have
brought: new assembly hall, classrooms, library, and staff housing.
Many things have remained the same, though—the shyness of
the students, the warm welcome with flowered necklaces, and the
friendliness of the local people, who are called Ni-Vanuatu ("people
of our land").
Vanuatu is made up of about 100 volcanic islands surrounded by
coral reefs. The temperature is amazingly stable, varying from
about 65 degrees Fahrenheit to about 95 over the course of the
year. Occasional hurricanes trim back the rain forest on the windward
side of the islands, and the leeward sides have grassy areas.
The Ni-Vanuatu speak about 100 different languages, and there
are three official languages: English, French, and Bislama, a
pidgin that grew from early trading languages. About 75 percent
of the people live in a traditional village economy and get their
food from gardens and the sea; there is no way to either earn
or spend money. The other fourth of the people work for pay in
the towns or the capital city.
The educational level is very low. Most kids go to elementary
schools in their villages, but about 80 percent of the children
finish school at sixth grade. There is only enough room (teachers,
books, buildings, etc.) to continue the education of the top one-fifth
of the students. Then at the end of tenth grade there is another
exam, which cuts another two-thirds of the students. A graduate
of tenth grade is sometimes used as an elementary school teacher;
a graduate of twelfth grade might work for the government or in
business in the capital city.
Onesua is a boarding school for boys and girls in grades seven
through twelve. There are about 450 students and about 30 teachers
and their families. We form a small community on the northeastern
coast of Efate, the central island of Vanuatu. Students study
a typical high school curriculum, with the addition of religious
education, French, and agriculture. RE reinforces the Christian
roots of Onesua, founded 49 years ago by the Presbyterian Church
of Vanuatu (PCV), the largest church in the country. French helps
knit the country together, since the majority English speakers
must unite with the one-third of the country that learned French
as a colonial language. Agriculture teaches the students the skills
they need if they return to their villages instead of to the money
economy of Vila. The students spend time each week working outside,
helping with the cattle as well as the school gardens, where they
grow greens and root crops such as manioc and taro. The farm feeds
the students except for rice and bread.
Arriving in August, the middle of the school year, Bruce was
immediately put to work teaching English. There is a severe teacher
shortage, and four classes were without teachers. Lora helps Kinsey
and Emily with their studies and helps Bruce correct papers. When
school starts again in late January, she will be the assistant
librarian and begin a pre-school program for the children of staff
members. Kinsey and Emily do most of their studies by correspondence,
but attend French class and PE with the students in years seven
and eight.
One of the high points of our experience so far was a trip to
the PCV General Assembly on the small island of Makira. This national
meeting is held at a different site each year so that many places
can benefit from the church's efforts at development. Makira,
for example, received a new water system and a donation toward
a new church building. The villagers, though, worked for an entire
year planting extra crops, weaving mats, and building temporary
guest houses for the assembly. We stayed for about ten days in
a traditional thatched hut, complete with gravel floor, chickens
scratching around our beds, and rats in the thatch.
We welcome e-mail or traditional letters, and we would be happy
to correspond with anyone.
As we come to the season of Christmas, we would like to wish
you great joy, but also a sense of wonder, and maybe shame, at
the strangeness of the story:
Nao hem i bonem fasbon pikinini. Hem i kavremupgud pikinini
ya long kaliko, mo i putum hem i stap slip long wan bokis we
oltaem ol man oli stap putum gras long hem blong ol animol oli
kakae (Luk 2.7).
Now she gave birth to her firstborn child. She covered-up-good
this child with cloth, and put him to sleep in a box where all-the-time
men put grass in it for animals to eat.
What gifts will all of us bring to this refugee child? May you
be blessed in the coming year with a willingness to hear old stories
in new ways, to cross boundaries of all sorts, and to live with
a sense of homecoming to places where there is work to be done.
Love and peace,
Bruce and Lora Whearty
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