A typical day in Vanuatu starts as early as 3:30 in the morning, with the roosters competing to be heard. The first bell rings at 5:00, but we never move that early. By 6:30, I am preparing bread and off to community devotions at 7:10. The kids start correspondence school at 7:30, finishing by lunch.
Meals are fairly simple – we buy some NZ foods, but most are too expensive. Also it is terribly embarrassing coming home from town on the truck with loads of food that our neighbors could never have. The kids aren’t fond of powdered milk so we use it to make porridge when rolled oats are available. This is the first year that you can get wholemeal flour, so its bread and jam for lunch. We have meat three nights a week, which is far more than the Ni-vans get. I have never baked so much in my life. We consume masses of cakes as well as having to supply them for the locals. There seems to be a national obsession with cake. They look to ex-pats for birthday cakes, cakes to sell, and cakes for shared meals. The kids call it “the white man’s gift”.
The generator comes on at 6am and the batteries get charged. We have to watch our electricity use carefully throughout the day. Ken’s only grumble is that he doesn’t like being told when to go to bed – the generator goes off at 8:30 – 9:00 in the evening and our solar power is limited, so off to bed we go. We have enough power for a small fridge, which is a benefit to the community. We store meat for those who can afford it occasionally. We had two monthly periods without a fridge, which wasn’t too bad in the end – life without a fridge is possible.
Part of daily life is lots of children. We are the local suppliers of DVDs, sports equipment and books. When you hand the kids a pile of books, they cheer and sit on the porch reading eagerly. We are blessed to have the nicest house on campus, so on a dark rainy day we have a gathering of kids at the house.
I usually wash the laundry by hand twice a week and we have a house girl who does the rest. This also means the kids only have to fetch drinking water on the weekends. Transportation into Luganville is an uncomfortable ride on the back of a truck sometimes sitting on taro or coconut, but I enjoy it for some reason.
There is not a lot of variety here. My understanding of poverty now includes the fact that poverty is boring. Poverty is about a lack of choice. They have little choice of activities, jobs, education and creativity. Surely part of being created in the image of God is that we all long to explore and create. My appreciation for things hasn’t increased but for it has for the value of choice and variety. By Jenny Williams