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A letter from Bruce and Lora Whearty
in Vanuatu |
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Letter 23
2 June, 2004
Cooler weather comes at last! The trade winds are strong and
steady off the sea, and the temperature has been clear down to
66 degrees F (19 C). Lora and the girls dress like the Ni-Vanuatu,
wearing sweatshirts not only outside, but around the house as
well. Students who do not have clothing for cooler weather walk
to breakfast with their arms tucked inside their shirts, looking
like amputees or mobile cocoons. At morning break, they stand
in the sun against the cinderblock classrooms, trying to get warm.
But I love this weather! It feels so good to be clean and dry,
to not have my shirt sticking to me all day long, to take only
one shower per day! What a luxury! I dug out a long-sleeved shirt
and wore it before sunrise one morning, but was back to short
sleeves by 7:00.
We were very happy to help Onesua host two young men from Australia
who spent their vacation repairing and upgrading the school’s
computer lab. The computers are all networked and working now,
and we are just about to finish (I hope!) getting a new email
system up and running. Kinsey spent four days straight working
in the lab, and learned a lot. We appreciate the expertise (and
patience!) that Scott and Isaac brought to the project, as well
as the four refurbished computers they brought with them, and
we are grateful to Mueller College for supporting that effort
to help our students.
We are still living through the last echoes of Cyclone Ivy, which
came through the country at the end of February. Replanted gardens
are now producing again, at least the fast-growing crops. We have
all the corn we want, and our garden is producing Chinese cabbage
(called “white bone” here, from the color of the leaf
veins) all over the place. We give it away. Seedlings have gone
to the school garden, to the personal gardens of half a dozen
teachers, and a whole boxful to the village of Ekipe. Full-grown
heads have gone to most of the teachers on campus, and still we
have too much. Leiwia, our neighbor who has done so much work
in the garden over the past three months, will take a load around
the island to the main market in Vila on Thursday. The rest of
the garden promises similar harvests later. Tomatoes are blooming,
and tiny pepper plants are filling in behind the zinnias. Our
first new banana blossom is hanging, huge and purple, from its
bouquet of fresh green leaves. |
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I asked Jonathan why he decided to donate the manioc.
His answer stunned me. He replied, “They can’t get
well if they don’t eat.”
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The country had a scare a couple
of weeks ago. It ran out of rice. No one had taken into account
the increased demand since the cyclone, with the root crops mostly
damaged, and markets simply emptied out. Of course, as soon as they
realized the situation, shopkeepers raised prices, sometimes doubling
them, but the public panicked and bought it all anyway. That raised
the demand for bread, and one of the two bakeries ran out of flour.
It was strange, especially for us Americans, to see empty shelves
in stores. We tend to take it for granted that there will be food
there when we need it. |
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Here at Onesua, where the 400
students usually eat rice twice a day, we ran out of rice. But
Michael, the farm manager, has been carefully nursing along the
last of the root crops from before the storm, so there was enough
to meet the need. Students spent their afternoon sports time peeling
manioc for dinner. They complained about the extra work, but most
of them actually enjoyed the change in diet.
Then the Vila hospital, the only one in the country, ran out
of food. The ruined gardens and the spike in prices wiped out
their supplies and their budget. Jonathan, the Onesua principal,
conferred with Michael, and the two of them commandeered some
student labor last Saturday morning. The last field of manioc
from before the storm was dug, loaded into Michael’s large
truck, and delivered to the hospital as a gift to feed patients.
I am always full of questions about school management, including
budgets and planning, so I asked Jonathan why he decided to donate
the manioc. His answer stunned me. He replied, “They can’t
get well if they don’t eat.” He must have seen the
look on my face, because he went on to explain. “We have
enough manioc for a few days, and a rice ship is expected this
week, so it should work out OK.”
“What about the rest of the year?” I asked.
“I believe that giving now will bring us blessings later,
when we need them.”
On Monday a ship arrived with 26 containers of rice. Rationing
was in effect to keep people from either stockpiling or profiteering,
and the first five containers were sold instantly, at regular
prices, to stores and schools, Onesua included. The students are
back playing soccer before dinner. The new manioc will be ready
to start harvesting within a month. There may or may not be enough
food and money to last to the end of the school year. I guess
we’ll find that our later. In the meantime, the hospital
patients have been fed. |
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I have never understood the politics
of Vanuatu beyond this very basic picture: the country became independent
in 1980, after a long but peaceful struggle against the British
and the French. The new government was largely Presbyterian, because
the Presbyterian Church was the first to educate Ni-Vanuatu beyond
high school. Our church had been independent since 1948, producing
its own pastors at its own seminary, so they became the leaders
of the new country. The first dozen years of independence were pretty
stable, under a Presbyterian-led government, but it then fragmented
into competing parties. The last dozen years have been confusing,
with coalition governments trying to cobble together enough votes
in parliament to stay in power. The current government was just
dissolved, and elections will be held July 6. |
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"The new government was largely Presbyterian, because the
Presbyterian Church was the first to educate Ni-Vanuatu beyond
high school. Our church had been independent since 1948, producing
its own pastors at its own seminary, so they became the leaders
of the new country."
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I’m not entirely convinced
that it is coincidence that the current minister of education,
during this election campaign, announced over national radio that
in his opinion, schools should waive all school fees because of
the damage from Cyclone Ivy. Onesua, along with every other school
in the country, was immediately swamped with inquiries from parents.
Were fees waived? Were we giving refunds for fees already paid?
After a quick special meeting of the school council, Jonathan
announced, again over national radio, that we thank the minister
for his concern, that we will continue to require school fees
until we receive relief from the government, and that when we
receive that reimbursement we will be happy to refund school fees
to parents. All other schools have followed Jonathan’s lead.
The country, of course, has no money to reimburse anything, and
the minister knows that very well. It is impossible to run a school
without money, and I’m sure he knows that, too. But there
is an election on, and he knows how to get votes.
It may be that politicians form their own culture, reaching across
national boundaries, and would recognize each other no matter
what their language or race.
I wish for you this month plenty of chances to recognize the
people who speak your language, no matter who they are. Do they
offer worthless opinions to make themselves look good, or do they
speak simple truth in the face of the world’s need and fear
and skepticism? “They can’t get well if they don’t
eat.” I’d love to see that plank in a political platform!
I preached in Onesua’s assembly hall on Pentecost, and
a strange thing happened during the “moment for children.”
Since we were talking about the “rushing wind” of
the spirit, I had the kids sing “Happy Birthday” to
the church, and then I blew up a bright red balloon. I explained
that balloons were great for parties, but they were no good unless
they were full. Empty, they’re just flat. Full, they make
good decorations and toys (thump, thump!), they make neat noises
(squeeeeeak!), and they can even fly in strange and unpredictable
ways. At this point I let the balloon go, and it went up and never
came down! It circled two or three times, flew back up over my
head and landed on a ledge at the top of the front wall. The whole
place laughed, and I did, too.
I wish you this month abundance beyond all expectation, and surprising
flights. Stay full. Don’t bother to come down. Remember
to help those around you. They can’t get well if they don’t
eat.
Love and peace,
Bruce
The 2004 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
101
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