Soul on Display

Pictures from my life, enjoy yoself

Trying to drink kava in the corner without doing the Fijian interview #whereyoufrom #youmarryonefijiangirl #peacecorpsfiji

As of now im five months into my Peace Corps journey and man what a roller coaster of emotions it has been. End of February we got hit with the largest cyclone in the history of the pacific, big ol meany Winston. The guy did damage to some parts of Fiji, but most of the people made it through unharned. Some are missing houses but otherwise the people are ok. Its amazing how resilient the people of Fiji are as they begin to rebuild their lives with smiles on their face. During the storm, however, we were faced with our own American privilege. We were pulled out of our sites before anything bad happened, but many of us left behind people we have grown to love to fend for themselves while we waited it out in the security of Peace Corp. Luckily no one was hurt from our villages, but the guilt is still there

So I've been at my site for three months now and I must say this is the hardest but most rewarding thing I have ever done with my life. My site is on the outer island Vanua Levu and I live in the district of Bua. Bua is one of the most underdeveloped provinces in all of Fiji and I have got my work cut out for me. My site has no electricity save four houses with generators (when theres fuel), limited water, and limited resources. The houses that have generators only run them from 7 until 11 and then the village is plunged into darkness. We get our water from a river in the forest four miles away through a series of pipes that bring it back to village. My site is two and a half hours by bus from the nearest grocery store and market. Due to this, we eat eggplant, dalo, kasava, tinned and fresh fish, and potatoes. Its not bad nor would it have been my first choice but I'm here to help out my village so its a great opportunity to change lives and be a mentor

Said island, boatride to the island, and my main bitch Trixtable Hux. Be blessed #peacecorpFiji #fijibeaches #goats #newhome #pacificlifestyle

This Peace Corp journey is one of the hardest journeys I've ever undertaken. I've given up my friends, family, culture, and comfort to come halfway around the world and devote my life to someone else. I sit around the grog bowl listening to a language I barely understand and feel alone. I usually sit there contemplating my existence and trying to sort myself out. Dont get me wrong, the Fijian people are some of the friendliest people I have ever met but that barrier is still there. I usually spend my days going on random adventures with them to pass the school break. The other week we went to see the water source for the village. The youth, two elders, and myself spent time roaming around the pine forest for edible plants trekking through mud and bushes and i must say it was a blast. When we finished we hiked an hour through the trees to swim in this beautiful ice cold river. I even junped off the rope swing. The only thing that gets me through is stepping outside my comfort zone and trying new things. I know it'll get better once the language barrier is broken, and once that happens I'll be unstoppable

My school. I teach part time bitch lol

Not to beat a dead horse but im gonna beat it some more. Being black in professional America is hard because you're surrounded by people who don't relate well to you and dont understand your culture. The good news though is that you can always find a pocket of your culture who can validate your existence and experience. In another country its different. Im one of four black volunteers out of a group of thirty five. During preservice training it wasnt so bad because when things got overwhelming it was easy to find my other peers and talk about the disconnect. Now that im a volunteer, not so much. We've been separated to different islands and I feel alone, even when surrounded by people. The other volunteers on my island have each other to relate to and decompress, and the Fijians all have each other to share in their culture. I just sit there and listen as either group have discussions on growing up and things they did in their careers. With my group members I can talk on a small scale level about school and childhood, but I'll never truly share in the experience of growing up in white America. I cant talk about the festival's I went to, the country concerts attended, or the vacations taken. I just sit there listening while they all validate their existence. They try their hardest to include me, but the barrier is still there. Today's topic of conversation was concerts attended and first question is what was your first concert. Answers ranged from Backstreet Boys to Britney spears, and then my answer: Ying Yang Twins. Oi. Im honestly just jealous because they have each other and I just have my memories. I have to insert myself into situations most of the time and then I just feel like everything is censored for my convenience. I just want a good friend so I dont feel so lonely. Oh well, I guess this is what I signed up for. Things will get better though, they always do

Today's adventure consisted of a beautiful island with crystal clear waters, sandy beaches, blue starfish, and my first confrontation with my race in Fiji. We started at nine with tea, roti, and a trek through the village where we ended at the river to wait for our transport. Half an hour later the fiber glass boat arrived filled with the elder men of the village and my party joined them to sail to the island of Galoa. The ride took us down the river through mangrove laden waters before we entered the sea. The ride from here is breathtakingly beautiful; cerulean blue waters surrounded by majestic islands in the distance. The island we are heading to appears in site with houses lining the shore. We get off on this amazing beach that looks like it belongs in a travel magazine. After a minute of splashing in the water we head to the church service where I sing with my village and endure a two hour church service. Mind you I've attended more church in the last two months than I have in the last five years. So after church I finally get to play in this crystal clear water where I find the majestic blue starfish hanging out on this rock. So after spending half an hour filming him; spoiler alert the film is not that great for the amount of time it took and ends with me poking the starfish with my camera. So I get dressed and am roped into having a conversation with another random woman. She tries to marry off one of the women to me, as usual, and finally ask where im from. Upon hearing America she squeals with delight and says, "oi, niggers in America are nice right?" I laugh because one im caught off guard and two, how do you respond to something like that? I mean on the one hand you can tell she means nothing by it but at the same time ouch. It still cuts deep even miles away from home. I dont feel like making my life a teachable moment. It takes too much time and energy, and I dont want to. I guess its apart of my job as peace corp but none of the other volunteers save the other three people of color have to deal with it. It just makes me sad and want to leave. I have a degree and expertise to offer and you come at me with that. I politely finished my mango and excused myself, the best course of action at the time. Maybe next time I'll have a better solution but as of now avoidance is the best course of action. Oh well, sa moce.

Today started out like a normal day. Woke up in my new home of Votua in my lonely home with my puppy Shadyboots. I fed the dog, cleaned her poop off the floor, and then set off to figure out what to do with my day. We only have power during the night for four hours so I spend my day at the school, in my house, or wandering the village until I find an adventure. I normally spend time with the high chief and his family. The high chief is essentially the governor of our province and lives two houses down from me. He has taken me into his family and for that I am grateful because he is a great friend to have. Wednesday was the Indian holiday of Diwali and the high chief took me with his family to his private beach to drink yaqona, eat, and listen to his family band play guitar, ukulele, and sing Fijian music. Now if I haven't explained before yaqona is a root that is grown for five years, dried out, pounded into powder, mixed with water, and ingested. The effects of this potion make the user relaxed and sedated, making for a great nights sleep. This drink taste like dirty water and is the normal past time of almost all Fijians. We drank this concoction from ten in the morning until about seven that night and I was pretty grog doped. The beach itself was magnificent because you could see three islands in the distance from the white sandy shell lined shore. The day was absolutely perfect and I love his family. Today I was taken to a nearby village, nearby being a loose term, by one of my neighbors. The village is seated on the breathtaking river that's as cool as a fall day. So while im standing in this beautiful river, these men come by dragging this cow with them where they tie the cow to a tree on the bank. Disclaimer for those with a weak stomach, this does not end well for the cow. So in three swift strokes, the cow is hit strategically in the neck and goes down, blood pouring down his neck and him crying in agony. He hits the water hooves in the air and is chopped twice more before he drowns in his blood and the water. He is then dragged upon the bank where the men begin to dismember him while I snap pictures in the background. They carry him back in pieces where he is hung to dry while we have tea. Now I sit on this mat watching the people cut up this cow into cookable pieces and writing this blog post. My day in a nutshell lol Moce!!

Why is it that black is so threatening these days? You dont act or speak like one of them and all of a sudden you're the problem. No one understands the plight of the dark minorities and what we deal with. The light ones get a pass because they have long hair and minimal African features. They cry oh we have the same struggle, we get the same treatment but they dont. White America welcomes them with open arms, conditions them at a young age to endure the abuse because they aren't like us, but you're still black even though you aren't like us. All we have is hope, hope that one day our children will never have to endure what life has made us endure. I weep for my children, and hate myself as I pray they're lighter than me

Its only been a month and a half and I can feel the angst subsiding and my soul settling. I dont know what it is but im coming to terms with a lot of things in my life: my hatred for everyone, my general unhappiness, and my qualms about life as it is. Im not saying that im a brand new person who just loves everything but I am working towards my patience and tolerance. I prayed for growth and here it is knocking

Life will never be perfect and I'm finally starting to accept that. All we can do is find the good in the situation and maximize on that. The rest will fall into place