Walkabout week 1: Coming Ashore in Tongariki
2017-05-26
To get here from Efate, we took a bus (buses here are Toyota minivans) from the village of Epau to Port Vila. There we caught a flight on a small twin-engine plane to Tongoa. After landing on the grass airstrip on Tongoa, we took a pickup truck (I rode in the back) down to the shore. Finally, we rode a small fishing boat - maybe 15ft - to Tongariki. The guys running the boat also fished during the trip and caught a skip jack which we had for dinner that night.
The flight was great. I fully expected to get airsick, as I have always done on small planes. Even though I didn't take any Dramamine, I was never even queasy. I'll give the pilot full credit. It was a really smooth ride, and landing on a grass airstrip wasn't much different from landing on concrete. The flight was a little over an hour.
Now on Tongoa, we waited at the small building/store by the airstrip for our truck for maybe 45 minutes. I talked to a couple guys there who somehow knew my host brother, Gramme, was playing soccer on Tongoa for the Shefa province soccer tournament. Everybody here knows everybody else. The store stocked large bags of flour and rice, and had shelves of various canned and packaged goods. Like the stores in the village, you can't get anywhere near the goods, and if you're unfamiliar with the brands and packaging, it is hard to tell what they have. I also spoke with an Israeli woman named Lemo who came in to stock up. She is here working on a water project of some kind on Tongoa.
When the truck arrived, I got in the back with the luggage and we rode down to the ocean on the uneven and bumpy road. Using my PC assigned life jacket for a seat cushion was the only time I appreciated it. (We must wear then when getting on any boat.) We picked up two guys on the way down.
We waited underneath a lovely and huge banyan for about another hour. I chatted with a guy named Robert. When I told Robert where I was from he ran and came back with an Atlas so I could show him where Minnesota was. I showed him a bunch of photos on my iPad. It was a good way to pass the time. Something I now realize about most maps: the Mississippi River is huge and economically critical, yet it is often omitted. I imagine it is like that for a lot of rivers, but it is hard to explain there is a huge and important river someplace when it isn't on a map.
The boat (a fiberglass boat with an outboard motor) had two hands (insert joke here), all of whom fished during the trip to Tongariki, which took maybe an hour and a half. Again, I did not get seasick or even queasy. The waters were pretty calm but I normally do get seasick, so I don't know. Maybe I grew out of it? All of them just used their bare hands to hold a fishing line, no rod and reel needed. When the skip jack was caught, one man kept it from flopping around by keeping his big toe in one of its gills, and another foot on its tail. It was a minimalist but completely effective method.
I really can't express enough how precarious getting out of the boat and onto the shore was. These guys have done this a million times, but there was nothing relaxed about it. They were focused.
Here's how you come ashore in Tongariki. Imagine medium sized swells crashing onto a shoreline composed entirely of 6-10" stones and boulders. There is no sand, only boulders in and out of the water. They're like river stones, rounded and smooth, and make a loud clattering noise as the waves move them to and fro. The captain is in the boat while two other guys get out and massage it into stability, timing the swells. When they say to jump out of the boat, out you jump (one at a time), and make your way to the shore. Walking across 6-10" stones, all loose and moving, isn't easy. Now imagine you're doing it barefoot. Ashore, stop on a slightly flat, slightly larger stone someplace and put on your flip flops. Walking doesn't hurt your feet as much, but this is probably the last terrain in mind when flip flips were designed. Use a firemans line to get the bags off the boat to shore. Now precariously walk across another 200' or so of the stone "beach" until you finally and gratefully make it to land. That's how you come ashore in Tongariki.
Yesterday I made the trek to the island of Tongariki. This is the site where the PC has assigned me to work as a teacher trainer for the next two years. For now I will be here for one week, which the PC calls a walkabout week. The purpose of this is for me to get a glimpse of where I will be living, to get to know the community, and to get a first hand view of my living arrangements. Accompanying me is Annette, one of the PC staff here who has been trying to teach us Bislama. Annette was probably assigned to me because she is from Tongoa, a larger island just to the north of Tongariki.
To get here from Efate, we took a bus (buses here are Toyota minivans) from the village of Epau to Port Vila. There we caught a flight on a small twin-engine plane to Tongoa. After landing on the grass airstrip on Tongoa, we took a pickup truck (I rode in the back) down to the shore. Finally, we rode a small fishing boat - maybe 15ft - to Tongariki. The guys running the boat also fished during the trip and caught a skip jack which we had for dinner that night.
The flight was great. I fully expected to get airsick, as I have always done on small planes. Even though I didn't take any Dramamine, I was never even queasy. I'll give the pilot full credit. It was a really smooth ride, and landing on a grass airstrip wasn't much different from landing on concrete. The flight was a little over an hour.
 |
| Our plane on the runway at the Tongoa airport. |
When the truck arrived, I got in the back with the luggage and we rode down to the ocean on the uneven and bumpy road. Using my PC assigned life jacket for a seat cushion was the only time I appreciated it. (We must wear then when getting on any boat.) We picked up two guys on the way down.
We waited underneath a lovely and huge banyan for about another hour. I chatted with a guy named Robert. When I told Robert where I was from he ran and came back with an Atlas so I could show him where Minnesota was. I showed him a bunch of photos on my iPad. It was a good way to pass the time. Something I now realize about most maps: the Mississippi River is huge and economically critical, yet it is often omitted. I imagine it is like that for a lot of rivers, but it is hard to explain there is a huge and important river someplace when it isn't on a map.
 |
| The beach of Tongoa is mostly fine black sand, scattered with a few small rocks. Leaving Tongoa's beach is easy. |
The boat (a fiberglass boat with an outboard motor) had two hands (insert joke here), all of whom fished during the trip to Tongariki, which took maybe an hour and a half. Again, I did not get seasick or even queasy. The waters were pretty calm but I normally do get seasick, so I don't know. Maybe I grew out of it? All of them just used their bare hands to hold a fishing line, no rod and reel needed. When the skip jack was caught, one man kept it from flopping around by keeping his big toe in one of its gills, and another foot on its tail. It was a minimalist but completely effective method.
I really can't express enough how precarious getting out of the boat and onto the shore was. These guys have done this a million times, but there was nothing relaxed about it. They were focused.
Here's how you come ashore in Tongariki. Imagine medium sized swells crashing onto a shoreline composed entirely of 6-10" stones and boulders. There is no sand, only boulders in and out of the water. They're like river stones, rounded and smooth, and make a loud clattering noise as the waves move them to and fro. The captain is in the boat while two other guys get out and massage it into stability, timing the swells. When they say to jump out of the boat, out you jump (one at a time), and make your way to the shore. Walking across 6-10" stones, all loose and moving, isn't easy. Now imagine you're doing it barefoot. Ashore, stop on a slightly flat, slightly larger stone someplace and put on your flip flops. Walking doesn't hurt your feet as much, but this is probably the last terrain in mind when flip flips were designed. Use a firemans line to get the bags off the boat to shore. Now precariously walk across another 200' or so of the stone "beach" until you finally and gratefully make it to land. That's how you come ashore in Tongariki.
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