Jungle Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving 2010 was most certainly not a traditional Thanksgiving in any sense, but I think it will be one of the most memorable Thanksgivings I’ve ever had in my life.

Some of the Ambae crew came out to see me at my village. Getting them out to Vandue, however, was quite humorous. The girls took the 2 hour boat ride out, and when I heard the motor of the boat approach the village I ran out to meet it with the rest of my village. This particular morning, though, we were getting the start of leftover swells from a cyclone in Australia or some place, and the waves were huge. The boat had to circle the coast for a good fifteen minutes, during which I laughed my ass off watching the girls anxiously eye the incoming swells, probably wondering if the boat was going to tip over. Finally, a “calm” came, and my Uncle Max zoomed into shore where the girls promptly were instructed to jump off immediately. I think I should have seen this as foreshadowing, but I was so excited to see my friends that the cause of the swells did not come to my mind.

After giving them an hour to rest, we began our walk to get Mac. Mac’s mountain is no joke, and I think even though I warned them it was a biggie, I don’t think they realized what a bitch that mountain is to climb until we arrived at Walariki and I told them we were halfway. I thought one of them was going to cry. But I kept telling them that even though during the climb you want to cry, faint, turn back, once you reach the top you truly feel a sense of great accomplishment. And I think they did once we reached the top – where Mac was mildly surprised to see us, because she thought we weren’t coming. But her Dadi told her to be patient, that we would arrive, and hey look we did!

I’ve discovered climbing barefoot is safer, and I will run the risk of getting hookworm versus falling to my death any day of the week.

For being in the middle of nowhere, we fashioned an amazing Thanksgiving feast, all cooked over a pit fire in my family’s kitchen. There was a moment as I was kneeling over the fire, sweat slipping down my cheek, when I looked up in frustration. But instead of crying because the smoke was killing my eyes, I noticed the amazing view from the kitchen and I had to remind myself that this year, Thanksgiving 2010, I was stirring a pot of kumala while taking in a breathtaking view of the ocean and Maewo over a canopy of banana and coconut trees, with the sleepy village of Vandue resting beneath it.

For those who are curious what a Jungle Thanksgiving consists of, let me tell you:

1. Two chickens, claws and all, which were roasted over a fire – also which have been dismembered by Mac

2. Beans cooked in curry sauce, with island cabbage and onion

3. Mashed kumala with powdered seasoning I had been saving for this special occasion.

4. Bread made in a saucepan

5. Kraft Mac n’ Cheese

6. Pumpkin soup with curry powder and basil

7. Fried yams

8. Banana bread

9. Tootsie rolls and M&Ms sent by Melissa’s mom

10. 5 bottles of really cheap, but surprisingly good red wine

11. Instant gravy

All of this was eaten on the floor of my house, under two solar lights with Wotan’s ipod playing DMB, while it stormed outside (transporting all the food from kitchen to house was entertaining as well). And we just storied for hours about our lives in the US, and then how it contrasts to our lives here, and the crazy shit that we’ve all seen since coming. It seemed at the time we weren’t doing much of anything, but looking back at it the whole experience was really comforting.

 

Here’s where it got crazy.

 

Mac and I followed the girls on the boat back to Lolowai to get internet, and then on the way back the two of us looked ahead and saw some very dark clouds. Ok, we’re going to get a bit wet, we thought.

This was an understatement. We got soaked. An hour left to go and it starts pouring. Me with my awesome poncho, Mac with a half destroyed umbrella, a newborn, and guy drunk on Kava, sitting in the dingy while it bucketed down on us. Trying to go into shore, two huge waves come over the boat, soaking the floor of the boat in about 5 inches of water. This is when I realized I still don’t have a dry bag for my laptop. Getting to shore, Mac and I jump out, but the boat doesn’t make it on shore before the next big swell comes in. I’m up to my waist in the water trying to pull the boat in while Mac is hauling all of our bags onto shore. She gets my laptop out just before another huge wave comes into the boat, sending belongings floating off into the ocean. All the kids, dads, moms drag the boat onto shore using a dozen logs, and then Mac and I start to sprint across the beach just as the rain REALLY turns on. The leftover swells from the Australia cyclone were NO joke. At one point, we just started walking because there was no point in trying to dodge the rain – we were already drenched.

Then we get back to my house and my rain tank was so full it was powerfully overflowing out the back. Mac and I in a panic run underneath it with our shampoo in hand, taking advantage of the first pressurized “shower” we’ve had in weeks. As I was standing under the fall of water rubbing the dirt off my ass, Mac violently scrubbing her head with shampoo, both of us just paused for a second, and then started hysterically laughing. I think both of us had just realized how ridiculous we looked standing in the pouring rain washing our hair, and that “yes, this is our life now.” It made a rather frightening day into a very, very funny one. One that I am Thankful to have in my “story book”.