Vanuatu
Week 3
The last two weeks of my adventure were by far the best.
In my third week of teaching, I moved to the grade six class. I was initially pessimistic about this because I was introduced to a whole new class and faced the task of breaking the ice with a new group of young teens. As I've mentioned below, the young Ni Vans belong to a culture of speaking when spoken to and are always difficult to get talking as an outsider. But I pressed on and showed interest in their hobbies, passions and sports. I asked them questions and tried my best to interact with them from a young-person's perspective. The students seemed to open up the most following an art lesson I ran on Indigenous painting, where I got the students to use Aboriginal symbols to tell a story in their paintings.
In my third week of teaching, I moved to the grade six class. I was initially pessimistic about this because I was introduced to a whole new class and faced the task of breaking the ice with a new group of young teens. As I've mentioned below, the young Ni Vans belong to a culture of speaking when spoken to and are always difficult to get talking as an outsider. But I pressed on and showed interest in their hobbies, passions and sports. I asked them questions and tried my best to interact with them from a young-person's perspective. The students seemed to open up the most following an art lesson I ran on Indigenous painting, where I got the students to use Aboriginal symbols to tell a story in their paintings.
By the third week I felt closer and closer to some of the girls teaching on the trip, and felt so included and excited to spend each day exploring the island.
Lauren and myself looking like doofases but loving life!
I loved hearing about the girls' days as we discussed our unique experiences in a range of primary, secondary and kindergarten classes. Each of us would make an effort to included each other in our afternoon activities and we spent many hours talking about such a broad range of topics on our hotel beds. Each of us spent a day visiting the different schools we taught at and it was amazing to see the different types of schools, classrooms and conditions each person taught at. By the time Sunday came around, I was extremely sad to see everyone leave and had a moment where I felt extremely lonely as I hugged everyone goodbye at 4am. For the first time in my life I was truly by myself in another country and had no idea what my week alone without any plans in Port Vila would bring. But God was looking out for me and I didn't even know it!
My Sunday was spent church hopping (a term my sister and I like to use) firstly at my usual international church and then to a new Assemblies of God church...and boy did I feel at home! As anyone who knows my church back home, I have grown up in a lively, loud and very Pentecostal church scene and this church did not leave me disappointed. Although I was one of the only white people in the congregation of about 80, I felt like there was no place I'd rather be. The singing put a shiver up my spine, with beautiful harmonies and a blend of heavenly and in tune male and female voices from the entire congregation. Although the service was primarily spoken in Bislama, I could pick up 60 per cent of what was being said and knew that what was being said was something I strongly agreed with. I could sense the spirituality of the church and knew these people were a passionate congregation and I instantly wished that I had more time to come back for another few weeks! I was truly touched by the joy the people had, despite having so much less than what people back home. These people had utter faith in God and His promises in providing for their every need. They did not ask for riches and wealth, but asked Him for what they needed to get through each day and nothing more. I was so happy to be there and be inspired.
Despite feeling like I stood out as a white girl, I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone to stay and try and talk to people after the service had finished. I managed to run into an Australian couple with an adopted Ni Van daughter, the same age as me, who had the most beautiful personality. I also introduced myself to the leaded of the band, Louen, and was invited to choir practice that night.
My Sunday was spent church hopping (a term my sister and I like to use) firstly at my usual international church and then to a new Assemblies of God church...and boy did I feel at home! As anyone who knows my church back home, I have grown up in a lively, loud and very Pentecostal church scene and this church did not leave me disappointed. Although I was one of the only white people in the congregation of about 80, I felt like there was no place I'd rather be. The singing put a shiver up my spine, with beautiful harmonies and a blend of heavenly and in tune male and female voices from the entire congregation. Although the service was primarily spoken in Bislama, I could pick up 60 per cent of what was being said and knew that what was being said was something I strongly agreed with. I could sense the spirituality of the church and knew these people were a passionate congregation and I instantly wished that I had more time to come back for another few weeks! I was truly touched by the joy the people had, despite having so much less than what people back home. These people had utter faith in God and His promises in providing for their every need. They did not ask for riches and wealth, but asked Him for what they needed to get through each day and nothing more. I was so happy to be there and be inspired.
Despite feeling like I stood out as a white girl, I pushed myself beyond my comfort zone to stay and try and talk to people after the service had finished. I managed to run into an Australian couple with an adopted Ni Van daughter, the same age as me, who had the most beautiful personality. I also introduced myself to the leaded of the band, Louen, and was invited to choir practice that night.
After having a wonderful lunch with my missionary friends from the international church and dropping my things off at my new LUXURIOUS accommodation (WOW), I made it to choir practice which was a wonderful experience. It is no myth that Islander people can sing 244544654654 times better than us white people!!! I met the youth president, Kiki, and talked with him and Louen for quite some time before being asked over for coffee. I recall the youth president apologizing multiple times, stating that his house was "not much" and I had to insist that their company was the most important thing. And it truly was! We sat on the floor of his small house with his lovely wife, 2 year old son and one month year old son and drank tea and talked about the youth ministry of the church. They were all so eager to hear of my insights into youth culture and my experiences in Australia with young Christians. The following day Louen and I hung out and I was able to see the university he attends and hear about his home island of Santo. We had a fantastic week together. I had tea at several houses and made plans with new friends from both churches and I never had a minute where I didn't have something to do or someone to see, it was fantastic! I was able to see first hand how locals lived and get to know them on a real personal level. Another highlight was being able to kayak across to another Island with my new Australian friend, Liz, and visit the grave sites of the first missionaries of Erakor Island which was, surprisingly, a rather profound experience.
In my last couple of days, I soaked up the things that I loved about Vanuatu: Stepping out on the road and hailing a bus that will take you wherever you want to go for 150 vatu, hearing Bob Marley and such reggae tunes everywhere you go, being able to visit my grade five class, being greeted by every person that walks by you, seeing beautiful smiles wherever I went, never feeling cold during the day or night and spending time with all the beautiful new friends I had met.
Assembly of God Church
My Accommodation! Wow!
My very own spa bath
Luxury accommodation!.jpg)
My wonderful friend Louen!
It's fair to say that by the fourth week of my adventure, I had zero per cent desire to go home. The hardest thing was getting on the plane from Sydney to Melbourne, sitting between two white Australians who I tried to talk to and who weren't interested in talking back. My oh my how different our culture is. I can't wait to go back!
No comments:
Post a Comment