tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32901410038661225042024-03-17T10:57:05.844-07:00Stilettos in the SolomonsSolomon Islands: now with more high heels!Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-20905536594138091802014-08-17T19:36:00.002-07:002014-08-17T19:36:34.789-07:00Retirement<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Hello readers and Solomon Island Wantok! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">People have been contacting me about the Solomon Islands, what to bring etc...and I love to help them. BUT this blog is now almost three years old since its last relevant entry re: the Solomon Islands and its showing its age in design, topics and usability. In other words, its time for this old lady to retire officially from public life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Where to get information about the Solomon Islands?</span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The wonderful folks at <a href="http://pineapplepost.wordpress.com/">Pineapple Post</a> contacted me recently and they are going to use some of my old blog posts, with some updated information. The Pineapple post is a <span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">place of information and connection for people living in Solomon Islands. It's a way to promote great work being done, adventures being had and what's going on around town. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm stoked, actually, that my work gets to live on in some way and still help people transition to living in the Solomon Islands. Also, the Pineapple Post runs a much more informative site, without all my typos and waxing lyrically about kaleko shopping or drinking fresh coconuts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Please support these guys; they are there now and can give you a better understanding of what is going on than I can. Plus, they seem like genuinely great people. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good luck, intrepid adventures and lukim ui somewhere out there. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sara</span></div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-40710482336274476702012-11-10T23:32:00.001-08:002012-11-11T20:46:18.397-08:00One Year Later<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>For those of you who are visiting my blog to find out how to live in the Solomons, here are a few quick newbie guides. I know these might be dated (after all, I've been away a year!) but I think most of the information is still valid:</i><br />
<div>
<b><a href="http://stilettosinsolomons.blogspot.co.nz/2011/08/newbie-honiara-guide-part-one-food.html">Newbie Guide Part One: Food</a></b></div>
<div>
<a href="http://stilettosinsolomons.blogspot.co.nz/2011/09/newbie-honiara-guide-what-to-bring-part.html">Newbie Guide Part Two: What to Bring</a><br />
(clearly I cannot count past two...)</div>
<div>
<a href="http://stilettosinsolomons.blogspot.co.nz/2011_10_20_archive.html">Newbie Guide: How to meet new people in the Solomons</a></div>
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<a href="http://stilettosinsolomons.blogspot.co.nz/2011/11/solomon-island-newbie-guide-shopping.html">Newbie Guide: Shopping</a></div>
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<a href="http://stilettosinsolomons.blogspot.co.nz/search?updated-min=2012-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&updated-max=2013-01-01T00:00:00-08:00&max-results=2">Newbie Guide: Second Hand Shopping</a></div>
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And, of course:</div>
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<a href="http://stilettosinsolomons.blogspot.co.nz/2011_09_22_archive.html">Sex and the Solomons</a></div>
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<i>For those of you who want to find out what happened to me, the wearer of said stilettos while living in the Solomons, read on:</i></div>
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It happened. And pretty much before I actually realized it.
One year. Really? All I can think to myself is: where did the time go? </div>
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This weekend, I sat down with a box of tissues and some
chocolate and read through this entire blog from start to finish. All 119 entries. My first impressions was: wow…I wrote A LOT. This was probably due to having a great deal
of time on my hands and all the stimulating newness that was the Solomons. But,
looking back, there was something of a catharsis going on. I can read through my process, which involved
leaving a place I had grown to love and, more importantly, rediscovering myself
after the breakdown of a marriage. While
the breakup was far from ugly, the process of self discovery was (and, at
times, still is). I made a lot of
errors, in retrospect, and fumbled my way through the process the best way I
could. </div>
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Well, I’d like to say it was all puppies and rainbows since I've returned but it hasn't been.
Reentering my life has been harder than I had imagined. In fact, there
was no “reentering”, it was basically me starting my life over again in a new
city, without the benefit of family or ready made friends. As with all transitions, this one
was tough and I didn’t have the luxury of sunning myself on a white sandy beach
or going diving to process. I just had to sit and process through stuff instead
of running away. I didn't blog about
this process because it would have been like: hmmm, had a trim flat white
coffee today. Meeting was very good, am going to make template for something that
no one will use! Yay me! Yeah, it would
have a been low in the blogsphere ratings, believe me…</div>
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A year. Really? How can I write about this year? Sorry,
still in shock. Right, where was I…for my readers who love the
juicy stuff, here it is. I moved onto a hippy commune with a gay man in February.
That was, perhaps, the best decision I made this year. Mattie, my wonderful, kind, loving, amazing
housemate has seen me through it all…rough transitions, heartbreaks, bad
decisions, hangovers, the works. He has supported me and stood by me. I couldn’t
ask for a better housemate or friend than Matt. I’m truly blessed and lucky to
have him in my life. Natalia, another French/American popped into my life around six months ago and, after moving here two months ago, makes my urban family pretty complete. <br />
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Right, more juicy: Okay, so, in April, the divorce was finalized
the same week I fell in love, really in love, for the first time since the
split. As anyone could easily predict,
it was a complete disaster (and this is coming from a woman who works in
disasters). This is the problem when your heart has healed completely after a heartbreak,
by the time you are over it, you get so excited at the prospect of being over
it that, well, anyway, I overdid it, expecting just a bit too much too soon. The less said about that time,
the better, I think. </div>
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By the time I was really over it, I was ready go back home to the
States to see Mom and Dad. That was absolutely the best time, I bought far too many shoes and not enough underwear. But moving on...Nothing cements the future more than seeing
where you’ve come from and where you have been.
For a long time, I felt adrift, by myself, alone and afraid. Going home
made me realize that I still have a wonderful group of people who are forced to
love me no matter what. </div>
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Okay, back to the juicy: I returned to Wellington with a hiss and
roar, and, as predicted, overdid it but this time in the other extreme of “I’m
not going to be the one hurting this time and commit too early” attitude. After
having one failed marriage and an unpleasant breakup in my recent past, I had a certain
mindset that possibly wasn't very conducive for dating, which was trying to
protect myself from hurt. In classic Sara style, I sabotaged some good things. Well, I suppose the best thing I can say is
about the situation is that while I can't be proud of my behavior, I can feel at least somewhat comforted that I was honest when it would have been much easier to be less than honest. Now if I can really just get the f**k over myself and the past, I'll be sweet (I think). </div>
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Right, enough juicy stuff. Work wise, I became a senior tutor at a university. Being a teacher was amazing and I really enjoyed the process. Also, I am about to start
something really scary: my PHD. Yep, I’ll be Dr. Sara in three short years. Probably. Maybe. That’s if the literature
review process and utter confusion doesn’t do me in first. But, I have one very helpful thing on my
side: I’m stubborn as hell and don’t give up easily. So here’s hoping that stubbornness sees me
through. </div>
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Before I start my PHD, I'm taking a wee break to get mentally clear on the next three years. So, next week, I go back
to where I began, to Christchurch for a ten day road trip. I figure there is a kind of nice symmetry to
it all; after all my PHD will be based partly in the broken City and, in many
ways, it is where so much of my adult life began. So, yeah, looking forward to seeing the
beautiful Mackenzie country again, with its wide expanses. I’ve added a few destinations that I haven’t
been to before including Fiordland (yes, I know, I should have gone before!)
and the South of the South Island. I may
blog it, I may not…</div>
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It’s been, clearly, an interesting year with unintended collateral damage. Returning meant
establishing old friendships and some of those old relationships didn't survive the pressure of re-entry. While I feel sad
about that, well, there are worst things in life than losing relationships that no
longer work for either party. So I wish those people well on their journey.<br />
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The other collateral loss was my lack of diving. The thing that kept me sane and going for months in the Solomons, well, I haven't done here because the water is too cold. I know, I'm a wimp...but I hope to dive again shortly. </div>
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As for the cast of the Stilettos in the Solomons, things didn't pan out the way they had planned either. Tessa and Mackenzie split up
soon after I left and that was a traumatic event for all involved. Like all
splits where a couple loves each other but just can’t make it work, there were
broken hearts on both sides. But that
really isn't my story to tell and all I can wish for those involved is a quick healing process. </div>
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Marco, well, he is
somewhere off doing something (I have no idea what) but I get the occasional
photograph from one of the Stan countries and he send me emails in Italian, so
I have to use Google translator.Viola is happy in Australia, working hard (as always) and
enjoying her life (probably, when she isn't over thinking it!). </div>
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My wonderful and loyal counterpart Tina had a baby boy in
March (her last, she claims) and is still working at my host agency. I think of
anyone in the Solomons, Tina taught me the most. She always saw the good in me,
despite my many flaws and encouraged me to be better. I miss her face, her
smile, her eye rolls at my latest debacle more than anything else about the
Solomons…we are so opposite but in the core of ourselves, I believe that we
truly are sisters. </div>
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Big events are happening too…weddings are coming up
(congrats Will and Lenora, Katie and Sasha and all the happy couples over in
the islands). Speaking of weddings, I’m very pleased to be
acting as best man for an old friend who
taught me more about the Solomons than anyone else. I’m excited, I've never
been a best man before, and, while I've got mixed feelings about marriage in
general, there could not be a better suited couple. It gives me hope to see that, despite many
obstacles, people who are meant to be just…are. </div>
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In some ways, I chose the wrong year to go. This was no
doubt a big year for the Solomons: the Royals came and went from the Islands,
as did the Pacific Arts Festival. The
Lonely Planet named it number 6 on the ten best places to go for 2012. I feel honoured to have been there before it
became a truly cool place to hang out. I hope that it doesn't get destroyed by
fast food restaurants, Starbucks, Marriott and all things developed. </div>
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I’d like to say that I think of the Solomons every day but I
don’t. I think about paying my bills, getting dressed, my work and whatever
personal issue is troubling me at the time. Like an ex boyfriend, the Solomons
pop up on my Facebook from time to time and for a moment I think about the
islands and wonder how it is. But the Islands are one of those places almost
stuck in time, where everything and nothing changes all the time. If I returned
tomorrow, I would only have a handful of friends who would remember me but
within a week I’d have a handful of new friends to hang out with. Such is the way of the Islands, long may it
remain that way. </div>
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Life here takes on a pace that is both much faster and slower than the
Solomons. Adventure is replaced with
routine. I got into a car accident today, a minor fender bender which was upsetting but I kept on throughout my day, shaken up but no worse for wear. In the Solomons, 20 islanders would have come to my asssitance, fixed up my car, given me a cup of 3 in one coffee and kept me company. Here, even with the other driver around, I felt alone. Drivers kept going, people kept walking. I miss the communal life, that taking care of each other.<br />
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But I would say that my biggest
challenge in coming back is learning to be comfortable with routine and to
trust that life isn’t going to fall apart on me, despite what happened in the
past. A part of me believes that I don’t
deserve deep comfort or happiness. This deep guilt is probably pretty common, especially
when we have witnessed incredible human suffering, like I saw at times in the
Solomons. Or in the Christchurch Earthquakes. Or even much further back, in the
Samoa tsunami…somehow I just question: why did I get so lucky? And while we can wax philosophically whether I'm really lucky to live here, let's be honest: I am very, very lucky. But, then, why me? I met 50 people every day in the Solomons who were much more deserving and better people than myself, people who aren't nearly as self centered or self indulgent or lazy. Great mothers and fathers who sacrifice every penny they make for their wontoks. People who don't make the litany of dumb mistakes I make every day, like leaving my house with my hairbrush still stuck in my hair or always being 30 minutes late to everything, no matter how hard I try to be on time...</div>
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So a year has passed. And what did I do with all my luckiness? I can’t say that I continued with my philanthropy, other than a few
short volunteer gigs. I felt like I was
exhausted and didn’t have much to give, which is stupid and pretty selfish. I
think I’m learning about the small things, that I don’t have to do something
big and dramatic like live in the Solomons to make a difference. Looking on now, Matt, my housemate, is the consummate
humanitarian, working in mental health. The man receives few, if any accolades
and just goes to work, committed to quietly helping others. Or my mother who works at the free clinic one
day a week when she could be much more money a day or my dad who didn’t buy a
new suit for 15 years so all us spoiled kids could go to University…and this
list goes on. </div>
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For all those people who said when I came back that I did a
great thing by going to the Solomons, I would parry that thought with the idea
that it was those who stayed behind, worked
quietly in the background and kept things going…those are the real heroes, now,
to me. </div>
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I think I didn’t appreciate how intense an experience it is
to live there, especially as a volunteer. You can’t hide from the poverty, the
violence, the disease…no matter how much you would like to escape it. I have some deep regrets about my time there
mainly that I wish I had done so much more. I was capable of more, so why didn’t
I give more? Why didn’t I get to know people better or work harder? I know I
could beat myself up further but then, I also figure that sometimes we are just
there to bear witness to situations rather than needing to step in and stop
it. Hopefully that witnessing comforts
the sufferer and teaches the witness something so mistakes are not repeated
again. </div>
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Well, that is the hope. It’s my hope. </div>
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-12658424934421250822012-03-06T13:55:00.001-08:002012-03-08T18:28:15.420-08:00Epilogue: Stilettos in the Solomons Style Edition<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So, some of you might be coming here for the first time after seeing a Dominion Post article re: style in Solomons. After thinking about it, I realised that I kind of forgot to talk about it much in this blog! I had always intended to write a second hand shopping blog about the Solomons but lost inspiration. The article gave me a sort of kick up the bum to get it written. <br />
Here is how it works: clothes get sold or donated to a variety of charities in Australia and N.Z. These clothes make it through a number of shops but eventually get put into bales and shipped off to the Solomons. These bales are put together by quality of fabric, newness of clothes and a variety of other things. Shops in the Solomons purchase the bales and then place the clothing in either random order OR by skirts, tops etc...Bales typically come in on Saturdays and sometimes Mondays or Wednesdays. You will know when new bales are being opened because typically there is a large line of Solomon Islanders waiting for the shop to open.<br />
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Typically there are days of the week when you can get half off of these clothes depending on the shops. Now, this will be slightly difficult for me because a lot of the shops have names, but I have no idea what they are AND I left four months ago, so the memory is starting to fade. Anyway, you were warned!<br />
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The main shops I went to are:<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Island Clothing: this shop across the street from the large BeMobile shop on the main street (kind of near the NPF plaza). Now, this use to be a rather bland shop but the owner has definitely made some good choices in bale purchases in the last four or five months I was there. The variety is very good, as is the quality of the clothes. I bought several designer items there that I still wear today, including a favorite black, jersey knit wrap dress. However, this is probably the most expensive Kaleko shop in town. </li>
<li>XJ6: now this USED to be the best shop in town until it moved to the Rugby Stadium (note: it has moved again, across from Central Market. Thank you, sources!) Now the bales must be a lower grade because I used to go there three or four weeks in a row and find the same clothes on the rack. This is pretty unheard of in the Solomons; good clothes go quick! What IS good about XJ6 is that because the clothes are less desireable, there are some good winter picks there. I purchased a Leslie Herbert paisely skirt (which I just love) that no Solomon Islander would wear because its far too hot! </li>
<li>Hidden Kaleko Shop: This is, by far, the best shop in Honiara...its near the NPF (the opposite end of the Huts) and in a little alley way, tucked away. Its also near the U.N. offices. This place is pretty good for finding Coutnry Road items and some great dresses (its where I picked up the little green dress in the picture of the Dom Post)! Plus they have new clothes in there as well. This place is clearly popular with locals, so get in quick. Seriously, the Hidden Kaleko shop is a real find; one I only found out about in my last few weeks in the Solomons.</li>
<li>$5 Dollar shop: this place is upstairs in a pretty perilious looking building on the main strip across from the new Hyundia Plaza. This is a great place to find clothes for pretty much nothing...it makes for great party Dress up fodder...I found a great peach prom dress for an 80s party there. Honestly, you won't find much else there but at 5 dollars solomon an item, its probably with a go.</li>
<li>Lei Clothing-Its across from Island Clothing. I like Lei's and you can find some pretty good items there if you are searching. There is also a good selection of bags and, the holy grail of second hand shopping in Honiara: BOOKS!!! YAY! The prices are reasonable but check out for specials days when everything is half off.</li>
<li>China Town shops: there are about three or four good second hand clothing shops in China town scattered around the place. I haven't spent a lot of time there but if you work in China town, its a good place to shop.</li>
</ul>
Hints:<br />
<ul>
<li>There are no changing rooms in these shops. Wear a tank top and a skirt to quickly try things on if you must.</li>
<li>If you like it, buy it. It will likely not be around when you return.</li>
<li>Always wash second hand clothes before you wear it...just sayin.</li>
<li>If it doesn't fit, pass it on to someone else. You can arrange to sell items to other people but I always found that to be a waste of time. At less than three dollars an item (N.Z.) its better just to hand it on.</li>
<li>Take risks. I found that I bought things that I would have never purchased in N.Z. and it looked great. There was a bit of a gambling element to purchasing in the Solomon Islands; you are never quite sure how its going to work out until you get home. </li>
<li>Don't spend too long in there. Its hot and dusty. Its better to go at 10 or 20 minutes at a time rather than a full hour. </li>
<li>Don't have an idea for what you are looking for. The best items I found were complete suprises at the time. Just go with an open mind and hope for the best.</li>
<li>Take cash. There aren't credit card or EFTPOS operators in these places. </li>
</ul>
REALLY GOOD HINT:<br />
There are a couple of first hand shops in the Solomons. My favorite is, by far, Chickaboos in Hyundai Mall. I purchased a few new items but the best part is the wonderful purveyor of the shop, Megan, goes Kaleko shopping herself. She brings back the best from the Kaleko Shops and sells them on. Now, its a little more expensive, you might pay 100 solomon dollars per top (17 N.Z.) but finding Donna Karen and Marc Jacobs without having to sweat in a Kaleko shop is great! Megan has fantastic taste and the shop is a lovely wee place to sit down and have a chat. So if you are busy, don't want to cruise the Kaleko Shops, go see Megan.<br />
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(Note: friends in the Solomons, if you have any other suggestions, feel free to email me and I will put it on here).<br />
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So, you might be thinking, this girl goes to the Solomons and just talks about fashion when there is a heap of other issues going on....doesn't she care? Aren't the other things important? Of course I think the issues in the Solomons are important or I wouldn't have spent a year of my life volunteering.<br />
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The article:<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tDaow9Dgskk/T1a3YqoHtZI/AAAAAAAAAUs/ycfUHW1r5UM/s1600/dom+post+jpeg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tDaow9Dgskk/T1a3YqoHtZI/AAAAAAAAAUs/ycfUHW1r5UM/s640/dom+post+jpeg.jpg" uda="true" width="440" /></a></div>
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For me, at its best, fashion is a way for me to normalise my life experiences. I've worked in a couple of large disasters now and there is always a time, usually in week two or three, that I just stop wearing fluro or jeans or whatever I'm wearing and I want to dress up and look nice. Why? Because it signals to me that life is returning to normal. I notice the same with a lot of my disaster working collegues. Everyone seems to have something they do, whether its getting a haircut or shaving or something that signifies the personal return to normal. In the Solomons, nothing was like it is in N.Z., so for me, maintaining a personal normal was important. It may sound shallow or stupid but thats what it was for me.<br />
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Also, you might think, how dare this woman go over and buy perfectly good clothes when Solomon Islanders need it more! You might be right but I purchased items that would have been inappropriate in the Solomon context. For instance, I purchased a great velvet skirt from Leslie Herbert that would have given any Solomon Islander heat stroke. Again, we often send short skirts or warm clothes to the Solomons and its completely inappropriate and no Solomon Islander would want to buy it. I tried my best to purchase clothes that would not have been much use in the island context.<br />
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Anyway, thats my wrap up for the style part of the Solomon Islands. Well that was a bit of fun...<br />
Lukim ui,<br />
<br />
S<br />
<br /></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-28112893602742256512012-02-02T14:14:00.000-08:002012-03-04T21:18:33.344-08:00The End.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<em>Dedicated to the best woman I know, my counterpart: Christina Kwan Muge. I know your place in heaven is assured, Tina, if just for putting up with me for a year. Lukim ui, sista blo mei. </em><br />
After 118 blog entries, more than 12,000 unique visitors, and many adventures, I am officially retiring this blog.<br />
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Actually this last blog has been written and deleted (on accident, after too much coffee and not enough sleep) a couple of times now. Damn my quick mouse finger!<br />
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I wanted to write more (I could write a book with the amount of half written and edited blogs never published) but in the end, coming back has taken out some of my inspiration. The memories of the Solomons are starting to take on a dream like quality and I can't write about the place the same way right now.<br />
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I just realised that I'll have been back in N.Z. for about two and half months tomorrow from the SolomonIslands. In that time, I've gotten a new house (I'm moving again this weekend...probably not the best idea considering its the Seven's weekend, but whatever, I can't wait!!!), a new job and a new iphone (ha!). No, really, its been a full on two months since my return from the friendly isles, no doubt.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The mighty Temotu volcano</td></tr>
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I have to admit, I was struggling a bit to find my footing emotionally. It seemed like all these things had to be done right away and I just got into response mode, moving from one task to the next without really enjoying or understanding it. Now, don't get me wrong, I loves me some emergency response or else I wouldn't do what I do. But I became so tired it started to wear on me physically and nana naps after work became a regular routine, as did sitting in my pink fluffy bath robe after work, starring at the television screen and wondering how my life had gotten...normal.<br />
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See, here is the seductive and dangerous truth about living in the Solomons: its epic. Every day seemed tinged with a slight excitement, the not knowing how your day was going to go. Every day I saw something that made me laugh, made me want to cry and absolutely spell bound me. I know, I'm waxing lyrical but I think I fell in love with the Solomons.<br />
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Coming back is a akin to a piece of space junk entering earth's atmosphere; you feel the immediate slow down but you moved at such a different speed than everyone else (usually slower), that its a struggle to get back up to speed.<br />
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There is some stuff I have to own up to right now. Honestly, looking back at myself with a critical eye, I went to the Solomons for purely selfish reasons. I mean don't get me wrong, I want to save the world like every beauty queen drop out. But I guess I'm too old to know that I'm going to change things much. I set out on an adventure by myself and see what I was made of. In retrospect, I probably should have done this when I was much younger.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Who wouldn't want to live here for a year?</td></tr>
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To be honest, I'm not sure how much "good" I did. I think I got much more out of the experience than I gave. To my friends who have left the Sollies and those who remain, thank you. To those at home who kept the home fires burning for me, thank you. To those in Christchurch who welcomed me back from my journey with open arms and listened to my weird stories, thank you. To my family who patiently waited for the weekly or monthly scratchy Skype chat, only to be disappointed by power outages and bad connections. Thanks Mom and Dad. <br />
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Diving became a passion, an obsession, if you will, over the course of my time in the Sollies. It provided me with an almost mediative experience and I am forever grateful to my dive instructors for teaching me how to dive. Scuba diving is awesome, I suggest you try it (still haven't done it yet in N.Z...too afraid of the cold water!!!)<br />
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A final thank you to YOU, my readers! This blog started off a connection of people and activities that surprised me. Thanks for your support, questions and critiques of the blog. With your assistance, you made the blog worth writing...<br />
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A lot of people ask me if I would go back to the Solomons. I would. I don't know if I'd go on holiday, despite it being a fantastic holiday spot, I just have too many other places to go! But some places keep coming back in my life, like Christchurch, where my work is almost centered around now and will be for some time. Some places I'm done with and others, again like CHCH, still aren't done with me. I don't know why or how it works but it just does. I feel like I did what I set out to do in the Solomons and there is no unfinished business left there. However, make no mistake, if you were to ask me if I would do it again or if YOU should go, I would say yes. It was a hell of a ride and one well worth taking...<br />
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I realise that you are probably wondering where all the in depth commentary is about the Solomons. I know, I know, I never spoke much about the politics, the social dynamics, and you know, the things that really pissed me off and would have made me sound smart to bring up. Sadly I'm never going to get to that part. Why? Because this blog was always intended to be a light hearted travel log about my time in a special place. I stayed away from the political stuff because, honestly, its freakin complicated and deserves much more space than this blog could give.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm thinking "I get to keep this? AWESOME."</td></tr>
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Suffice it to say, that yes, there are significant social and political problems in the Solomons. No, I'm not even going to try to solve them or puzzle them through here. I'm sorry if you expected more from this blog. <br />
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If you want to donate money or help in the Solomons, I would say that World Vision, VSA (New Zealand), Oxfam, Save the Children, the Solomons Islands Red Cross, and ADRA are all worthy charities to donate money to. I know people personally in all of those organisations and they are all great people who work with Solomon Islanders and locally run NGOs to help effect positive change in the Solomon Islands.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beware the children with spears.</td></tr>
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Send money, not goods as its better to always buy local. (Solomon Island friends: if I forgot your organisation, just flick me an email and tell me about it).<br />
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<strong>What does the Solomon Islands need most?</strong> People to care about the country, its people and its future. Solomon Islands is a isolated state, with 992 islands and 600,000 people. And while RAMSI is there, people forget it even exists. The Solomon Islands need tourists to bring in dollars (best diving in the world! Seriously.). The tourism industry is small and local, so be prepared to rough it. But its also very fun.<br />
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In some ways, I feel like the Solomons deserves better writers and bloggers than myself. I like a good story but I know I'm not the best writer in the world. And because I felt compelled to stay away from the political or cultural stuff, I always felt that this blog was without teeth. Solomon Islands is by no means an Melanisian Disneyland. Its filled with a bucket load of social and political problems. And I just really wanted to keep this blog light because I don't want to scare the crap out of people. So if you are good writer, come and write the stories of the Solomons. Its epic.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ladies of the Solomons know how to dance!</td></tr>
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Solomon Islands also need people to advocate for equal rights of their women. I will say one serious thing in this blog: the abuse and disempowerment of the women of the Solomons must stop for that country to go forward. The Solomon Island women I met are amazing and the fact that there is not even one woman in parliament shows just how difficult it is for women there. If you do donate to a charity, make sure its one that has a gender program element to it because honestly, the women in the Solomons deserve better.</div>
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Anyway, back to the less serious stuff. Now back in N.Z., letters come not by boat or from a distant province but by regular delievery on a daily basis. The days seem to spin faster and faster together. There seems to be a lack of space to sit and think and look out at that endless blue ocean. My daily morning yoga and espresso (thanks Tessa/Alle) sessions have lagged. I don't walk to work, even though I can and should. I found it too lonely, no one walks to work in my neighbourhood. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My clients, the best clients in the world. </td></tr>
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I guess its a bit of a let down coming back but I'm finding my footing again, after a bit of stumbling around. My friend coined the term "mind lag" and that is exactly how it felt. It felt like my brain refused to process all the stuff that was floating around from being in the Solomons.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Could there be a more beautiful face?</td></tr>
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So I went and took a good break over Christmas. My twin, Suzy, and the lovely Helen and myself packed up my faux Jeepie and took to the North. It was a great wee road trip and as I saw the snow kissed volcanoes in the centre of the North Island, the fog began to clear. Alice (I'm tired of using fake names), took me and another Sarah out to a tiny island in the Bay of Islands. We kayaked out there, the three of us chicks, out for an adventure. We camped and stayed on the island for a couple of days and it was pure magic.<br />
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Kiri, my tough talking heart of gold friend looked after me in Auckland with great meals, lots of laughter and more than a little patience. The final part of the journey was the long nine hour drive from Auckland to Wellington which I did in a day by myself. Now, when I started this time in the Sollies, I would have been anxious to drive nine hours alone. But, with the help of Jane Eyre audio book on my new trusty pink I-Phone, I was away...on my own. It felt great.<br />
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So that is me...driving away towards the sunset, with Jeepie and an I-Phone, with my fond memories and love of the Solomons. I guess there isn't one thing I could say that could ever communicate how I feel about the Solomons...it just was what it was. I don't think I miss it; it was there and I did it for the time I had to do it for.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My bird friend whispering sweet <br />
nothings in my ear</td></tr>
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I don't know for certain (does anyone?) what's next in my life but I do know that while it won't be as weird and wonderful as the Solomons, I'm sure I'm not done adventuring by a long shot. I do know that prior to going to the Sollies, I had this internal pull to do something like going to the Solomons. It used to drive me crazy because I felt this restlessness. That pull is gone now. I don't feel the need to do the extreme adventure anymore; my new adventures feel closer to New Zealand for now. But who knows? Could be room for a blog called wedges in Waikiki or mules in Morocco yet...<br />
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Honestly, I feel like for me, this new adventure is about settling down, putting down roots and starting something completely different. Since I've been back, I've been exploring internally my own stuff from a spiritual perspective. In some ways, this journey is a lot more adventureous than the Sollies and I feel somewhat like a personal archelogist, digging in the dirt to figure out things about myself and my life. Its a scary process at times.<br />
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<strong>The story of this blog is simply this: go for the adventure.</strong> Don't be afraid, it will be okay, because life wasn't meant to be lived from a couch or behind a computer screen. Believe me, playing it safe didn't get me anywhere. Take the leap. Learn the lessons, keep the love and leave the rest.<br />
Now, step away from the computer screen...<br />
Go out and have yourself an adventure!<br />
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Love (lukim ui, oleketa and wantok blo mei Makira!!!)<br />
Sara<br />
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P.S. The Stilettos Collection grows with three new pairs of stilettos....long live high heels!!! Seriously you didn't think I'd wear jandels/flip flops/thongs forever, did you???<br />
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</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-60032931206593901352011-12-06T01:20:00.001-08:002012-05-10T03:21:41.031-07:00Below the Waves<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So as part of coming back, I've got the time and mental space to finally write about my last few weeks in the Solomons. I would have to say that, being in the cold, planned and organised world of New Zealand, I miss many things about the Sollies. One of them is the chaos factor. Every day I walked down the street, something always made me laugh, made me slightly afraid and made me want to cry. Mostly these emotions happened at different times. But when those things come together, its a beautiful thing. And the most common place I expereinced them at once in the Sollies was while diving.<br />
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I'll be honest, there was a time in my experience in the Solomons that diving was all I had to look forward to. It was right after the Christchurch earthquake and I felt completely and utterly depleted. I took my first course around and it changed a lot for me. For awhile, it was what I woke up for, walked for, ate for, slept for and worked for. The first words out of my mouth when I met someone new was "do you dive?". It become an obsession but a healthy one. So, I just want to go through some of the life lessons I learned whilst diving in the Solomons:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My local divemaster. </td></tr>
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1. <b>Sit at the bottom until things become clear:</b> Look, I think we all know that life can be a confusing mess of crappy emotional issues. Sometimes we just can't see straight when we are going through things. Some of us fight on, blindly swimming forward. Others try to swim out of it. Mostly, what you find is that the more you fight or the more you run, the cloudier the emotional waters get. So, I learned to sit and wait till the cloudy water settled. I remember sitting down at the bottom of the ocean floor and, in almost zen like position, just waiting until it was clear enough to see. </div>
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I guess, coming back here, I've had to do the same thing. There has been quite a bit of movement and upheaval and though my new job requires traveling, I've asked to stay put for awhile in Wellington. I am waiting until the water becomes clearer and I can see more clearly where I am going. Now, this is a new thing for me cause mostly I would just power on through and say I was fine. So I've learned. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me, looking up at the sun.</td></tr>
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<b>2. Your buddy will save your life, so choose a good one. </b>Most people in the diving fraternity will agree that, as important as it is to chose good gear, its more important to chose a good dive buddy. A good dive buddy will watch your back (literally) for sharks and all kinds of nasties. Your buddy has the potential to also share their air with you should something go wrong with your gear. Your buddy can be your lifeline. <br />
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On one of my last dives, I got bad vertigo and was simply zoned out. My dive instructor, Gabe, was watching out and pulled me away from a jagged piece of shipwreck that my head was on a collision course with. Twice. Maybe it was three times. Whatever, I was zoned out, on a high from a great Go Finis (leaving) pirate party the night before and was a complete bimbo underwater. <br />
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My other dive buddies were just as mindful, getting me out of scrapes. I was really lucky; all my dive buddies were awesome, trustworthy individuals who had my best interests at heart. But, as in life, we all make strategic errors in judgement. We trust people who shouldn't be trusted with our lives or our hearts. Luckily I never made that mistake underwater. And, now I pursue closer friendships than before and even recently, I had a friend, out of water, point out that I was heading on another collision course with another kind of wreck.<br />
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It takes a good dive buddy to pull you away from a wreck. It takes a great friend to do the same thing too, out of the water, so thanks friend, you know who you are.<br />
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<b>3. Sometimes, you just have to pee on yourself.</b> So yeah, I promised I'd tell the story, so here it is:<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me checking out the wreck...mmm....wreck....</td></tr>
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I was diving the Japanese submarine wreck off of Visale. Matt, an intriguing sort of fellow and his friend Todd, took pity on me and took me out to the wreck. We dove down and had a great time. Matt is the kind of great playful dive buddy that I love to dive with. He is engaging and fun, doing acrobatics under the water. You can tell he enjoys the feeling of weightlessness and makes great use of it.<br />
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So yeah, Matt and Todd both put me at ease instantly and I get comfortable with the sea life. As we swim right over some unexploded torpedos, I get a sense of courage I don't normally have. I play. I engage with the sea life. I see a bunch of clown fish and go for the sea anemone. It stings the hell out of my arm. I know I'm hurt as even under the water, I can see the swelling come up. As we make it to the beach, Matt has to help me out of the water.<br />
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The stinging is intense and my arm becomes a mess of splotchy swollenness. As we go to the next dive, the waves are up. I'm tired and cranky and in pain. I realise that I have a couple of options: hot water, vinegar, more salt water or urine. Now, there is no power points at the beach, so boiling ye olde jug is out of the question. As is vinegar, I left it at home in hopes of making a great salad dressing later. Salt water seems to have no effect. So, finally, I crumble. The arm must be peed on. <br />
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<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rGjwh1b-Irs/Tt3vCnsoiEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Pa_8DmZDhb0/s1600/IMG_3130.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; cssfloat: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-rGjwh1b-Irs/Tt3vCnsoiEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/Pa_8DmZDhb0/s320/IMG_3130.jpg" width="320" /></a>Now, one of the great things about obeying rule #2 of diving (see above under choosing a good dive buddy), is that a good dive buddy steps up and says "Yo, Sara, I'll pee on your arm". I shake my head and say no, its a lot to ask of someone to pee on you. "No, I actually have to pee really bad...." I sigh, sad to dissappoint the boys. </div>
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"No, if someone is going to pee on my arm, its me," I say, to slightly disappointed faces. I think its mostly because everyone loves a good peeing story. So the boys shuffle off into the water and sink below the waves, leaving me to my task.</div>
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I wander up the beach and do as we do in the Solomons. Now is the time when my daily yoga practice comes in handy. And its done. The pain decreases slightly and I adjust myself, pleased that no one saw. Or so I thought. I walk towards the car and turn around in time to see a banana boat motoring past the beach, with men looking curiously towards my direction. Well, I thought, at least I only have another week and a half to go...</div>
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<b>4. You can only worry about what you can see. </b>This one I learned whilst night diving. Night diving is still one of the scariest and funniest things I've ever done. It limits our power of sight and without much sound underwater, add the feeling of weightlessness and its akin to being a sensory deprivation tank. With sharks and all many of nasties you can't see.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wJTq9qaIqEs/Tt3sgWH4SJI/AAAAAAAAAQY/4td25rryyF4/s1600/IMG_3100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wJTq9qaIqEs/Tt3sgWH4SJI/AAAAAAAAAQY/4td25rryyF4/s320/IMG_3100.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Little Giant Clam!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
But the great thing about night diving is that after a little while, you stop worrying about what you can't see. Your torch can only shine light into the abyss to a certain distance and after that, well...it could be Jaws for all you know. I waited for the big shark to come and...well...I never saw it. So all that fear, that anxiety, was for nothing. So I guess, my experience is that if the big shark is coming for you, it will come; there is no need to worry about it because I would have missed seeing the cuddle fish change from a cruisey sleepy blue into an angry violet when we woke it up. And so on.<br />
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<b>5. The sea always changes so let it. </b>I think nothing taught me more about change than seeing buildings, like the Christchurch cathedral, in ruins. The things we rely on, the structures and the relationships can crumble and change in a moment. One of the ways I came to find peace in the chaos was developing a better understanding about change through diving. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fOLbt9Bpqwk/Tt3tp_iH-pI/AAAAAAAAAQo/f5rJta6k3Fs/s1600/IMG_3117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fOLbt9Bpqwk/Tt3tp_iH-pI/AAAAAAAAAQo/f5rJta6k3Fs/s320/IMG_3117.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Why hello there fish friends</td></tr>
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I used to dive Bonege 1 and 2 on a regular basis and instead of getting bored, I became fascinated with how it changed each time I dove it. Fish and sea life react differently depending on whether its morning or night, whether its rainy or clear. The wrecks themselves changed too, as the sea finally took its toil and rust and weight of coral moved the metal. <br />
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Every time I got out there, I marvelled out how different it was, day to day, week to week. Its what made the diving interesting and in a way, all these changes make life interesting too. Because who wants to be bored? Being safe and secure is great but, for me, it isn't really living. So yeah, change can be a beautiful thing, especially when you can take a moment to appreciate it.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lK1nQLSqZDA/Tt3wi9L-9BI/AAAAAAAAARI/8bT7av5kpLw/s1600/IMG_3073.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lK1nQLSqZDA/Tt3wi9L-9BI/AAAAAAAAARI/8bT7av5kpLw/s320/IMG_3073.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spot the blue spotted ray.</td></tr>
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<b>6. Don't panic.</b> I've been deeper than I would care to admit while diving. And well, I've been slightly dumb at times, often being overly optimistic about a situation and not looking closer at a situation. What I've learned is that panic can kill you. When people panic while diving well...it ain't pretty. Essentially, all kinds of bad stuff can happen to you, so its better to be as relaxed as possible and calmly make small changes if possible. <br />
<strong>7. Enjoy the moment.</strong> If one thing diving has helped me out with, its to enjoy the moment. Working in disasters, I'm always trying to predict what's next, what the worst case scenario is and honestly, it can be exhausting. But when I dive, all of that goes away into a beautiful blue haze. This is kind of like number 5 re: change but its also about relaxing into it. I found the more present I was, the more relaxed I was. The more relaxed I was, the more the fish seemed to just hang out with me. It got to the point that I felt so relaxed in my watery environment that when I got out of the water, it felt foreign and difficult on land. I much preferred my watery existence; weightless and floaty, to the harsh realities of life above the waves. In a way, thats how I feel about coming back from the Solomons. I feel like the Solomons, with its warmth and relaxed way of life, was a much easier life to navigate than the cold streets of urban New Zealand. <br />
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Here, I've adapted by enjoying the moment as well. I stop and look at old buildings or trees. I marvel at all the men in suits and women in high heels roaming our nation's capital. I try to find the moments and fill them with wonder but its hard. Everything here seems to be geared towards future and past but there isn't a lot of people who celebrate the moment. So I started climbing again because I find climbing very focusing. While its not diving, I have to be focused on what I am doing in that moment.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0qIZ7bIkYYU/Tt3uK5ob7xI/AAAAAAAAAQw/mV11jOQzTNI/s1600/IMG_3139.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" mda="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0qIZ7bIkYYU/Tt3uK5ob7xI/AAAAAAAAAQw/mV11jOQzTNI/s640/IMG_3139.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<strong>8. You are never alone.</strong><br />
I think one of my favorite moments came at the very end of my diving life in the Solomons. It was my last night dive with my great dive buddy Jo. It was raining down and you could see the droplets of water splattering down like liquid diamonds about six inches into the waves. As I looked up, Jo took my hand for a bit and just swam with me. We just enjoyed that moment together and we didn't need to say anything to each other (well we were diving so we couldn't) but I felt her support and friendship through holding her hand. <br />
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It was a special moment for me, to feel a person's unconditional love and support under the waves, in the dark. When she let go, I could still feel that love, caring and support. It felt really wonderful and, even though I knew that the transition back to New Zealand would be hard, I would never be alone. <br />
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And so endeth the lessons. I could wax lyrically for hours about how much diving has changed my life...but that would probably be boring. <br />
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After a month (today) of being away from the Solomons, I find the experience fading more quickly than I'd like it to. This blog here has helped a great deal to record those little moments that made my life so special there. And so...my adaptation to New Zealand life continues, as does the polishing up of my final blogs. I feel like I've got three more to go, so I hope you enjoy the final chapters of Stilettos in the Solomons.<br />
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*All photographs are from the amazing Adam Hatfield, who taught me about diving and how to say "stop f*cking around" under water. Thanks Adam!<br />
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<br /></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-13096079102261773212011-11-21T13:14:00.001-08:002011-11-21T23:36:25.745-08:00The Big Chill<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After packing up my things in a last minute rush (thanks Tessa!) I said my goodbyes and rushed through to the plane. I boarded and sat and slept. Mostly I wait until I board a plane to cry but this time there were no tears, just happiness and a slight feeling of being overwhelmed.<br />
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Brisbane airport staff were particularly friendly and chatty. I made it through customs easily, despite all the potential issues with my bags like carvings. But, after declaring all the items, I made it through and was greeted by a happy, smiling face. <br />
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Now, after a long journey like the eight months I had in the Sols, nothing NOTHING is better than being greeted by a friend, especially one you haven't seen in a long time. I met Bonnie over last Christmas holidays and I must say, she is one of the most enchanting and fun people I have ever had the pleasure to meet. We drive along the highway and I feel completely disoriented. Every small thing becomes large and in focus. It was like being stuck in a slower speed while everything around me was trying to move fast. I find the feeling disconcerting and its great having Bonnie there to ground me. Bonnie is a perfect companion; soft, gentle and patient with my disoriented ways.<br />
She takes me to one of my favorite type of food resturants: mexican. When I get up to talk to the lady behind the counter, I speak in pidgin, forgetting where I am at. She looks at me confused (apparently, English isn't her first language, adding to the confusion) and I quickly remember and order in english. Phew!<br />
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After a walk around, I'm amazed at a couple of things. First, how tidy and clean everything is. The extreme wealth is also difficult to fathom and the variety of choice. I breathe through it and try to act as normal as possible.<br />
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We have a great meal and a laugh. But around me everything is moving at speed, with I-Phones and I-Pads...I feel like a country bumpkin. And its bizarre; I've only been away eigth months but I feel intensely disconnected from the world around me...I start to miss the roasted chicken cooked on large, blackened rusty barrels. I miss the lack of caring about what everyone is wearing; style and fashion aren't high priorities in the Solomons. I miss the warm, smiling faces. Everything feels sterile and cold.<br />
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I would get a greater shock going into Christchurch. I've made a habit to get to the airport early; I've had too many close calls and stress outs. I've learned. I've grown. I make it to the airport early, without stress. And it helps me; the flight staff seem more friendly when you aren't running late or looking stressed.<br />
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I board the plane and I see black leather seats. Without tears or holes or rips. I see perfectly manicured faces and hands. Everything is immaculate. And cold. <br />
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I arrive in Christchurch, again greeted by friendly people but there is an odd stare in the eyes of Christchurchians. A sadness, a tiredness from the earthquakes. As I leave the terminal, I am greeted by another friendly face with big arms to hold me, my good friend Jamie, who has been a faithful companion and drinkng buddy for years. It feels wonderful.<br />
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I'm whisked away from airport to a cafe where I meet up with friends for a good chat. The rest of the two days seems a total blur but I manage to get a mobile phone, do a bit of shopping, pack up Jeepie (my faithful faux Jeep), have a party with some old friends and give away half of what I kept storage.<br />
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I always find it interesting how people respond to you when you return. Some are slightly off put by you leaving in the first place, others are cold, some want to make it clear that they have moved on with their lives and don't have space for you anymore. Others are warm, loving and happy to see you. I am lucky in that the vast majority of my friends fall into the last category. <br />
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I arrive at the pub for my welcome back party early. No one is there and I'm worried that no one will come. The pub is packed so I have to sit with an unfriendly young man who begrundgingly shares his table. After about 20 minutes, John, my mentor swings through the door. I'm so happy to see him and share my thoughts about the Solomons. John was one of the main inspirations for me going to the Solomons and I owe him a lot and a personal inspiration. We chat happily while I sip on my whiskey. As much as I love the whiskey, somehow it seems less important and less special. I'm much more interested in catching up with John.<br />
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Friends arrive with gifts and hugs and smiles. As time goes on, and "my peeing on myself" story gets told one too many times (someday I will relay that story on this blog...but not today). I get the growing sense of how time has passed for my friends in the Shaky city. Many looked tired and worn from the shaking. Most of them work in the emergency management field or for councils, so they have been worked off their feet. I felt slightly ashamed; these people had WORKED for the city I loved and I had to walk away and go to the Happy Isles to finish my contract. But no matter, they laughed and smiled and shared with me their stories.<br />
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I leave the pub late, feeling happy about the friends who showed up to wish me a good homecoming.<br />
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H and I pack up the rest of my stuff and take off in Jeepie to Kaikoura, one of my favorite places in Canterbury. Its hard not to absolutely love Canterbury in the spring and H and I spend the time chatting cheerfully. We meet up with some good friends and spend the night in long chats, under duvets because its cold (at least for me). The purpose of going to Kaikoura, other than seeing the beautiful views, was to dive. However storms prevent us from diving and in truth, I'm a little relieved. My body still hasn't acclimitised yet to the cold and I'm not sure how it would fair under these conditions. <br />
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Time goes too quickly and before I know it, I'm leaving Kaikoura in Jeepie, alone. The drive is beautiful, with the sea waves rolling lazily along the jutting, rugged coast line. There is no radio and so I drive alone, with my thoughts, uninterrupted. <br />
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I arrive early into the beautiful Picton (something about this being early business...I'm really enjoying it). I walk around Picton and realise how much the small city has changed. With a huge variety of cafes and tourism shops, the Sounds have clearly become a larger tourist draw than I remember. <br />
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I doddle around, enjoying my own company and I wonder to myself if this is what life will be like from now on; me, alone, adventuring with Jeepie. The thought should fill me with dread but it doesn't. If the past year and a bit has taught me anything, its to be comfortable being alone and enjoying my own company. <br />
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Time flies by, again, and Jeepie and I board the ferry first. It seems like I'm being rewarded by the Universe for my on time behaviour until I get stuck behind the stinky stock trucks. The cows look at me through grates; large lashed eyes looking for escapes or even a sympathetic face. I smile and chat to them...the driver looks at me like I'm slightly mad. Maybe I am; I haven't seen a cow in eight months and its made me a little odd.<br />
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The ferry is beautiful and with many little knooks and crannies, one can easily find a place to sleep. Which I do, until a guitar and banjo player start up in the bar. Their beautiful tunes lift my already happy spirit and I leave for a moment for the upper decks. As I look out across the water, I see the faintest of outlines of the Kaikoura Mountains. I mentally bid farewell to the South Island...but of course it isn't farewell, not forever. And I can't help but feel like, even though I may come and go from New Zealand or the Solomons or the U.S. or wherever I decide to travel, the South Island is a home to me, always. <br />
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I turn around and look at the lush rolling hills coming towards me. Wellington, my new home. Its stunning in the sun light, with its blue waters and windswept hills. I take in this moment...I'm between two great islands, drifting towards one and saying goodbye to the other. In this moment, I feel complete and whole, proud of my time in the Solomons, at peace with my time in Christchurch (although I believe there is still much to do there too) and looking forward to a new beginning, with new friends, a new job, a new house...<br />
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And if the Solomons has taught me anything (other than being able to travel alone), its that whatever comes, I can deal with it. Maybe not on my own (I have the greatest friends and family, really, I do. You wanna argue with me? You can't argue with the facts!) and it might take time, faith, some prayers, however misguided...<br />
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But whatever is coming, I'm ready.<br />
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Editors note: I'd just really rather it not involve me peeing on myself again. Cause that was no fun. Just sayin. </div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-5798013145907062872011-11-06T14:58:00.000-08:002011-11-06T14:58:36.110-08:00Goodbye Honiara<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today is my last full day in the Solomon Islands. <br />
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I can't believe I typed those words. That this weird, wonderful, happy, difficult experience is over. I mean, I've known for a long time this was coming. It seemed to take forever to get here and now that today has finally arrived, it seems like it has come too fast. I'm a mixture of emotions but under all the churning of feelings there is one basic theme: elation. Happiness. Joy.<br />
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A couple of reasons for this. When I came here, I was leaving a life behind, a life I loved. I have wonderful friends and support people in CHCH. But I knew that I needed to go, to start fresh somewhere else. It was time. I knew no one when I came here and I leave life long friends behind. Here, I have a family of people who have loved me and supported me. I am still in awe about how all this happened and I feel deeply humbled by it.<br />
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The Solomon Islands is one messed up little country. There is poverty, violence, inequality to spare. Things just don't work. But, despite its flaws, I love this country. It is, in a way, a home to me now. So, if you are reading this, thinking about coming to the Sollies but not sure, come. Help. Build. Live here. This place is worth a year of your life. And so much more. <br />
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I have much more blogging to do and a large back log of blogs to publish (especially my newbie guides) so this isn't the end of Stilettos in the Solomons by any means. I purposely kept out a lot of stuff because I wanted to protect people and myself. Now the gloves are kinda off...I'm calling it Stilettos in the Solomons Confidential. HA! But fear not, gentle reader, its not going to get too crazy...just crazy enough. My blog will probably continue till about January and then I will retire it with much love. <br />
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While everything is raw and churning in my brain, I just want to say thank you to all my friends and colleagues. I am so grateful to all of you for making my time so special here. <br />
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Sigh...nothing more to write today, just love and happiness in my heart for those I am leaving behind and looking towards those people I am looking forward to seeing in Christchurch, Wellington and Auckland (see you soon!).<br />
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All my love,<br />
<br />
Sara<br />
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<br /></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-2104428217026260052011-11-01T22:46:00.000-07:002012-03-06T19:38:49.517-08:00Solomon Island Newbie Guide: SHOPPING (What to buy part one)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">I'm going to go all Gwyneth Paltrow on you and talk about my favorite things in the Solomons. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">I've compiled a short list of stuff that is “uniquely” Solomons. Things you might want to bring back and show the grandkids. OR stuff that is made here, locally, that can help make your life easier, like soaps. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">I'm a big believer in buying local and keeping your life simple, so here is what I've put together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">(Note: I was not paid by any of the below companies to advertise their products. I love them and use them and hope you will love/use this stuff as well).</span></div>
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<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Coconut Oil-Koconut Pacific (a company that shall be mentioned quite a bit in this blog) has a wonderful micro-economic business going on. Villages around the country process organic certified extra virgin coconut oil in large tubs. The tubs are then sent to Honiara to be either processed or shipped over to Australia. You can buy a big bottle for about 70 sollies (price as of Sept. 2011), which is about 9 aussie dollars. The stuff is excellent; you can cook with it, use it for oil lamps or make cosmetics out of it. It’s great for your hair as a conditioner or skin, if your skin is dry or you have a sunburn. It’s wonderful, wonderful stuff. Taking it home can be an issue as it cools hard, so getting it out of the bottles can be slightly problematic...plus there is a custom thing to deal with. Kokonut Pacific is located near the Melanesian Art building, down a very short alleyway in Point Cruz....this brings me to:</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Coconut oil lamps. These little beauties are WONDERFUL. A great replacement for the very environmentally unfriendly Kerosene oil lanterns. When you tip over a coconut oil lamp, it does not light on fire, so there is minimal fire risk. Pick up a couple when you first arrive to light your dinner table at Kokonut Pacific. Tip: if you don't want to use too much oil, put water at the bottom and then some oil on top. The two will separate and you only burn off the top bit of oil. I recommend this as bugs love the oil and if you fill it up to the middle (like you are supposed to) you run the risk of wasting a lot of oil.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Sponges...real sponges! The World Fish organisation has a lovely little project where villages in Western province sustainably grow and harvest sponges. These sponges are the read deal and absolutely heaven to use in the bath (yes I occasionally take baths here, when I'm sick) or in the shower. I love them! If you want to take them home, the World Fish organisation provides a nice little factsheet about the sponges you can give to customs. I've heard this is successful in getting these guys through the fearsome aussie/kiwi custom officials. You can find the World Fish place near Panatina Plaza. Kokonut Pacific has also gotten on board and begun to gift wrap the sponges with the soaps (a great idea!), so you can pick yours up there.</span></div>
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<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Tapas from Temotu. These lovely fiber paintings are amazing, easy to wrap up and make a truly unique Solomon Island gift. </span></div>
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<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Carved bowls from Western-you CANNOT beat a beautifully carved wooden bowl from Western province. The bowl has ivory inlays, usually, and shined so highly that you can see you face in it. Beautiful.</span></div>
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<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">String bags from Choiseul-What can I say about Choiseul crafts? I have a string bag, made from the bark of a local tree there, that I treasure. I take it everywhere with me and the string bag expands beautifully around almost anything. I also get high marks for credibility from locals who comment on my “nice string bag”. Hmm...</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Fishing lures from Makira-I don't know if these things really work but it looks fantastic! At the top of the lure is a carving, usually depicting a family totem. At the bottom is a porous stone or cork to keep the lure afloat. Attached to the bottom of the carving is string with a bone fishing hook. The locals of Makira throw the lures out, with baited hooks and then watch from the canoes to see if the lure goes up and down (typically these are small fish). There is usually a smallish weight to keep the lure in place. Anyway, it looks great on the wall, I'm too scared to lose it to try it!</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Shells-shells abound here and you can find some good shells at Central market or at the Rain Tree Cafe. Be careful not to pick the endangered ones...</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Paintings- Solomon Island Artist produce some wonderful art at great prices. I live with a local artist, so if you want his contact details, pop me an email OR go to the Raintree Cafe, where they have lovely stuff at good prices (you can haggle there).</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Stone carvings or wood carvings. You can get some seriously lovely carvings here. I prefer to take stone home as there are less issues with customs than the wooden carvings. But remember to declare! (Also, you can always declare wooden ones and customs can usually treat it). If you have to prioritize your carving, I suggest buying a nzu nzu. This little fellow is quite charming. A sea spirit and a throw back from the head hunting days of the Solomons, it’s just a sculpture of a head, usually holding either a bird (for peace) or a head (for war). Used traditionally at the front of war canoes to alert villages as to the intention of the canoe (peace or war), the nzu nzu is now an iconic part of the Solomon Islands. You can go to the Melanesian Art Centre at Point Cruz as well as haggle with sellars on the street. I like the Melanesian art centre because in the back, they have some VERY unique pieces that you won't find anywhere else.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Also, you can commission a local artist to make a special carving for you. One acquaintance of mine got a bust made of his head (no, really, he did), and, given the amount of hilarious stories it has already produced, I would say the thing has already paid for itself.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Beauty products from Kokonut Pacific-again, these guys make pretty good coconut soap (my favorite scent is Island Kiss) and a lovely scented massage oil (Orchid is lovely).</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">The Lime Lounge Sweet Treats Cookbook- I love this little cookbook. The recipes are yummy, the photos are amazing and it’s a great price. I think it’s the only locally produced dessert cook book I've ever seen, so pick one up at the Lime Lounge Cafe.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Lava Lavas-having a lava lava is a must here if you are a woman. Nothing is better than a lava lava to use as a wrap around when taking an outdoor shower or protecting your modesty on the beach. In a pinch, a good lava lava can be used as a towel or a table cloth, you can use these rectangle piece of fabric for almost anything. There are great lava lavas at the Central Market but you can also buy them off of sellers on the street.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Solomon Island Coffee-I'm not a coffee snob, so bear with me. At about 50 Sollies a bag, these little Solomon Island Gold bags of coffee are wonderful gifts and great to use at home. A lot of people don't like the blend but I think its fine. Anyway, it is a novelty. You can buy bags at Y-Sato (near the Lime Lounge) and other retail outlets.</span></div>
</li>
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Jewelry. I like the coconut jewelry the best, shell jewelry and wooden jewelry which is just as nice.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="Standard" style="margin-left: 0in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Shell money-these long strands of shells are used, still, as currency in some parts of the Solomons. In the past, it was used as the main form of currency but now, it is traditionally used in compensation ceremonies like bride price or land disputes. You can buy strands at the Central Market.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Humanitarian Considerations</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">Solomon Islanders can be (but not always) fairly...hmm...how do I put it....unaware or unsympathetic about issues around animal protection. Things like tortoise shell jewelry, dolphin teeth jewelry, endangered tropical hard woods like queen ebony and the like can make people queasy. It’s a tough issue; clearly the law is there to protect the animals and I totally agree with it. However, these people also need to make a living and feed their families. Also, using things like dolphin teeth and tortoise shell is a part of their culture. It’s a tough call and I'm not going to make it for you. Just proceed with caution, is all I'm sayin. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Gill Sans MT", "sans-serif";">So that completes my list of favorite things in the Sollies...please feel free to add your own in the comments below!</span></div>
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-10608520294575716732011-11-01T16:37:00.001-07:002011-11-01T16:37:59.072-07:00A Plague of Goodbyes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I hate goodbyes. In fact I really don’t believe in goodbyes. I know it sounds corny but I sort of feel
like you if you truly made a connection with someone, a part of them lives on
with you and that, in a way, you aren’t very distant at all. But that’s the airy fairy side of me. The cold hard logical side of me tells me
that goodbyes are essential and that when someone is gone, they are gone
forever. I can’t say which side wins the
most; lately I’ve been slightly hard and cold about things. Probably because I’ve had a guts full of
goodbyes lately. </div>
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This week I had two
people leave and these two were particularly hard to face.</div>
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I learned some very important things from the two people who
left here. The first is my friend
Viola. A brilliant, random, fun,
slightly forgetful character came into my life early in my time here. I remember that the lovely Viola slept a lot
when she first came here, a hangover from her hard working life in
Australia. She likes her own time, even
spent Christmas alone with a good book. </div>
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I literally owe Viola my life. Myself and her “lovah”, Franklin, were diving
off of the shelf in Maravagi. My new diving gear, which I dubbed Dr. Bubbles,
came undone and my tank was trailing precariously behind me while I was at a
depth of 20 metres. I made a quick dash
up (but not too quickly) and as I surfaced the water, I felt a warm arm
encircle me, saying it was going to be okay.
We made it to the shore and I sat, sort of in shock, while Viola got my
gear together. She talked to me in calm
tones and got me back in the water, something I was very hesitant to do. But she was right; just because I got a
fright before doesn’t mean it would happen again. </div>
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Viola had done a good job and my tank didn’t slip
again. On the same dive, I swam with
her, not able to see the bottom. Her
confidence gave me confidence in myself.
I don’t think I’ll ever forgot looking up at her, swimming like a wee
mermaid alone, happy and content. It
made me feel secure knowing she was around.
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She is also my hero in a number of other ways as well. Viola bravely went to Kolombangara with the
intrepid Stan. It’s a trip I balked at
because I don’t have that much confidence in my physicality and Stan is like an
unstoppable human being. He bashes his
way through bush and has is totally confident in his ability. Apparently Viola was hanging and climbing up
rock faces for a large part of the Kolombangara journey. Now, if it was me, I might have harmed
Stan. But not Viola; she took it in
stride and said it gave her confidence. </div>
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In the new year, it was Viola who sat and burnt words of the
past with me to welcome the new. Viola
also sat with me a lot during some very tough phases of my journey here, when I
was less than a pleasant person to be around.
Being around her for me is very comforting; I feel like I can truly be who
I am with her around. I will miss her.</div>
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The second person was my neighbor Elsa. Elsa is a flamboyant Italian woman with spark
and vitality. Elsa also taught me a
great deal about happiness in the moment and to savour the small things of
life. She also introduced me to Eddy, my
wantok from Hawaii, who has I believe become a lifelong friend. Elsa talked a lot to me about moving on with
life whilst keeping your passion and innocence and belief in love alive. For that I am truly grateful. </div>
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However, there was one happy return: Tessa has made her way
back across from Australia to enjoy the last six weeks. I feel for Tessa; she is here to witness the
mass exodus of her friends. For me, that
would be too hard to take and I’d rather be starting a life somewhere else, far
away from all the goodbyes. But not
Tessa. I’ve watched her diligently help her friends pack of their lives and
assist in throwing big farewells. She
does it like a champ and I can’t help but be impressed with her endless energy
for parties and packing. </div>
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Another happy development: I finally met my twin. I always wondered what it would be like to
meet myself somewhere. However, Sasha
appeared one day at Maravagi and we’ve been friends ever since. Sasha was born on the same day, same year as
me. We both work in the same very
specific field. We both were out in the Samoa Tsunami, working there. That even changed both our lives. We moved
from our home countries in 2001. We’ve
got a disturbingly similar relationship pasts.
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I thought I would always hate myself but I actually I am
very fond of Sasha. She is bright and
cheerful but </div>
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also thoughtful and occasionally sad. She is a spiritual person and does Reiki (I’ve
signed up for a course myself when I return to Wellington!). Anyway, after about the second time we met, I
just told her to take over my life.
Which she did, with gusto! She
has taken over the room in my house in Casa Turchese and has filled completely the
hole I will be leaving. We’ve arranged a
big roadtrip over the Christmas holidays </div>
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with H. Its going to be blast.</div>
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So there is much to look forward to. But first is the finishing of work, the
goodbyes and the packing. All of which I’m
not terribly excited about but with Tessa helping me, I’m sure I’ll be just
fine. </div>
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-84965051257861476692011-10-26T20:18:00.000-07:002011-10-27T22:54:17.262-07:00The Love Below<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As you may have picked up, my addiction to diving has grown
from a slight, itchy discomfort to full on herpes like level…I talk about it
with everyone, I dream about it, I do artistic renderings and interpretive
dance about diving…it’s absolutely ridiculous.
If diving were a man, I’d be all Glenn Close in “Fatal Attraction”,
boiling his bunny and stalking his wife.<br />
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<br /></div>
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I’ve stopped drinking on the weekends because of my
diving. I don't flirt in case a man takes me away from my diving obsession. Really I'm totally focused on diving as my main hobby (besides Texas Holdem Poker...I won against 26 contenders last weekend!!! Great night courtesy of the Solomon Island Poker Association...check them out on Facebook!) </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Njm1-w8Yiwo/TqnzYi2-eCI/AAAAAAAAAQI/PM8fWKIeOiU/s1600/314428_537003390939_219800914_31336351_840007256_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Njm1-w8Yiwo/TqnzYi2-eCI/AAAAAAAAAQI/PM8fWKIeOiU/s320/314428_537003390939_219800914_31336351_840007256_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello strange underwater night creature thingy! Copyright to Joanna O'Shea ...<br />
(Yes she has to admit that we are friends now....sorry Jo.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I am literally becoming a nautical or diving nun.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Maybe its the breathing in and breathing out or the weightlessness or the communion with the fishies, I don't know. But I feel amazing EVERY TIME I get out of the water. I always have a few minutes of adjustment to this hard world, where everything is solid instead of fluid. The underwater world is by far my preferred environment and only spending a few hours a week there doesn't seem enough.</div>
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Seriously, I haven’t loved a hobby so much…pretty much ever
(except singing and playing piano). I do
about two to three dives a week right now, mostly on the Boneges because it’s
close by and I always see something new and interesting on the wrecks. </div>
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<br /></div>
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With my obsession in mind, I decide to sign up for an
advanced diving course. The PADI
advanced diving course is designed to allow divers who have the PADI Open Water
from an 18 metre depth to a 30 metre depth. It also has things like night diving and
navigation diving. Good stuff! The reason why I decided to do it now is
because its warmer in the Sollies than N.Z. and I like Tulagi Dive. The owner is a laid back and unnaturally dry humored
fellow, so much so that when I show up for a night recreational dive, he mutters: </div>
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“All right, your course starts tonight, Sara.”</div>
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Gabe, my former instructor balks slightly. I can tell that with my slightly bimbo
attitude and plethora of back talk, I’m not entirely his favorite student. But he takes a breath, sighs out and takes it in stride. It’s off to the
beach we go. </div>
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<br /></div>
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As the sun sets over the ocean, the crew of eight
adventurous souls strap into their tanks and stumble into the water, with
torches in hand. We look like the Skexis from that movie the Dark Crystal, hunched and slow...slightly menacing. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5iNZc6TmuSI/Tqn0GHu496I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/JeiT3hUdhCU/s1600/297230_537003510699_219800914_31336356_1367345825_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5iNZc6TmuSI/Tqn0GHu496I/AAAAAAAAAQQ/JeiT3hUdhCU/s320/297230_537003510699_219800914_31336356_1367345825_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> He's one bad mother...Shut your mouth! I'm just talkin' about<br />
weird rock crab thingy... Copyright Joanna O'Shea. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Night diving is quite
different from day diving, obviously.
First, you only can see what your torches illuminate, leaving an air of
mystery and downright creepiness to the dive. Its like being in a horror movie and I'm just waiting for more torch to illuminate some toothy sea monster. We all know the redheaded, busty slightly slutty types are the first to go, so obviously I'm on watch. </div>
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Secondly, the creatures in the deep have fallen asleep. Reef fish have covered themselves in a mucus
membrane to protect themselves and jamming themselves in rocks or coral to for
the night. Sounds…gooey and oh so
comfy. Gabe warns me not to shine my
torch on these fish because they wake up and escape their mucusy home, leaving
them without protection. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Torches (flashlights, for my yankie readers) can be utilized
not only as light sources but also as a way to communicate information, like
being okay is communicated by circling your torch. In trouble can be communicated by moving your
torch erratically. Under no
circumstances should you flash your torch in someone’s eyes. This will blind
your buddies for about ten minutes, leaving them pretty pissed off with you. Beer fines, apparently, are given immediately
if this happens.</div>
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Not wanting to incur beer fines or wake up muccusy fish, I let the air out of my BCD, gripping my torch tightly and only shining it to the bottom. There
is something downright spooky and scary about falling into the deep and as the
waves slip over my head, I have second thoughts. I turn my torch upwards and it refracts back
into the waves at an opposite angle, signifying to me that the rules of the
over world have now changed and I’m heading down into a completely different
reality.</div>
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We sink onto the sandy white floor. Gabe has brought along
his big camera, which has a fantastic spotlight. The camera looks like a gigantic arctic crab,
spotlights all akimbo on dark metal arms.
He lets me hold it while he fixes another dive buddy’s camera…I’m
terrified. The thing is probably worth
more than I’ve earned this year. I
gently cradle his camera and whisper that I’ll take care of it…the thing looks
so animal like I can’t help but feel maternal towards it and slightly
protective. After all the spotlight
alone saves me from having to peer in the dark with my pathetic torch that
barely illuminates three metres in front of me.</div>
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Gabe and I do a few quick exercises including underwater
navigation away from “Mr. Blinky”, his camera (sorry Gabe, I couldn’t resist
giving your camera a name. I called my BCD Dr. Bubbles...its what I do). I can barely see, which adds to the creepy
factor. As we finish the exercises, it’s off to the wreck for some alone time
with the fishes. There is surprisingly little
going on with the fish; everything moves slowly and sleepily, not like during
the day. Even the night fish seem
slightly bored and sleepy. </div>
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As we get close to the wreck, Gabe motions for us to turn
our spotlights off. It almost becomes
dark except for two more inexperienced divers who sit five or so metres above
us, just following us around (to be fair, one of the divers was a) her first time since her PADI and she was understandably nervous and b) her mask kept filling with water. The fact that she stayed in the water is pretty amazing, I would have been outta there if that had happened to me!). It was
like being on a date or trying to have a romantic moment with your parents
around. The thing is about turning off
your lights is that the disco and electric fish come out and swarm, as does the
phosphorescence, which dances around us. After a few
minutes we just give up.</div>
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<br /></div>
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It’s up from 25 metres to the shallows to play around with
the fishes. We peer under a rock and see
a cone shell (known for its poisonous darts that has a deadly neuro toxin at the
tip…stay away), making a quick escape.
Now, cone shells are essentially big sea slugs, so making a quick escape
is really a joke because besides send a dart out at you, these fellahs don’t do
anything quickly. </div>
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<br /></div>
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Gabe grabs a small crayfish (rock lobster) at me and it’s
not very happy. We quickly release it
and it escapes back to the depths. My
favorite group is probably a group of small, transparent prawns with blue
outlines rocking out in a big group in one of the holes in the ship. These guys
are hopping and dancing around like its Extreme dance club on a Friday night.</div>
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<br /></div>
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As we swim the dark, spotlights and divers everywhere, its
feels like that movie, the Abyss, from the 1980s. As a child, I loved that movie and I can see why, now, people
would have all consuming obsession with diving in the dark.
There is nothing like feeling of absolute weightlessness in
darkness. Its creepy and sensory
depriving, except for the crackling noises the sea life makes. I can
see now why Michael Jackson slept in one of those tanks, it’s a crazy
experience. You simple have to trust
that everything is going okay. You can’t
worry about what is beyond your spotlight because, really, there is nothing you
can do about it.<br />
<br />
I feel sorry for Gabe; I am a bit nervous to go away from Mr. Blinky so I keep bumping into him, bringing up sediment with my fins as he is trying to get the perfect shot. I know its no fun to be crowded by another diver but I can't help it...it the shadows, there lurks things I'm slightly afraid of. Plus he keeps highlighting cool things and I don't want to miss out. </div>
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<br /></div>
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We pop up, and the air above is cooler than the water we are
standing it. Its cloudy and not a full
moon which explains the lackadaisical nature of the sea critters. </div>
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<br /></div>
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As we drive home, the crew speaks excitedly of a turtle
which I didn’t get a chance to see.
Mark, my favorite dive buddy, is completely in love with the dive that night. He has that far away look of a
true addict, coming to me the next asking when we can go next. I think he too has the diving herpes...here is <a href="http://losschneiders.blogspot.com/2011/10/tortugas-y-estrellas-bajo-agua.html">his blog account of it</a>.</div>
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I can’t say I blame him. </div>
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</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-76509962341395540492011-10-20T16:16:00.000-07:002012-03-06T19:41:00.015-08:00Solomon Islands Newbie Guide: How to meet people in Honiara<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One year ago today, I arrived in Honiara. I was alone, weirded out and hot. I slept for about 32 hours straight, after flying from Paris, and when I woke up, I realized that I didn’t know anybody. I was stuck in a hot hotel room, by myself, watching episodes of Battlestar Galatica and X-Files (I played video games too. Sid Myers Pirates, Monkey Island and Civilisation Four are personal favorites). Oh feel sad for me!!! Ha!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I digress…. Anyway it wasn’t very fun not having any friends and not knowing where to meet people. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So…here is my list of how and where to meet people. Expats and locals alike are pretty friendly. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Occasionally you run into the snobbish types or the ones who have just been here WAY too long and won’t make friends. But don’t take it personally, it’s not about you, it’s about them. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Diving: Diving is a great way to meet people. If you aren’t a diver already, take a course. I HIGHLY recommend Tulagi Dive. The boys will look after you and you should meet people. Done the course and still no friends? Get some gear and go out to Bonege 1 on Saturday or Sunday mornings. There are heaps of divers who will probably buddy you.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Solomon Islands Poker Association. I loves me some good Texas Holdem Poker. And this group is a lovely, social, fun bunch of folks that will make you feel welcome whether you want to or not. Their meetups are on Facebook, so friend them and enjoy the mayhem. These guys are all about poker and having a good time. Don’t feel bad if you are a newbie, the players are friendly and always willing to help. There are also tutorial nights as well. Here’s hoping you get pocket aces or a flush on the flop. </span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ultimate Frisbee-These guys play at Woodford School on Tuesday evenings. I’ve not been but I hear it’s pretty fun</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, I love HASH but I don’t find the time to go very often. It’s a great place to meet people, run your guts out and drink, all at the same time (Why don’t I go more often? The mind boggles…). Anyway, Hashers are a friendly and generous group of people. Lime Lounge often has information re: meetups. These guys, both expats and locals, run every Monday night in rain, shine or cyclones. </span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Church. Church is a great way to meet people even if you aren’t that churchie. Solomon Islanders love church and you get an instant social network out of attending. So give it a go. I recommend the South Seas Evangelical Church just for their singing and social stuff but its up to you.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lime Lounge. If you are keen on checking out the local expat scene, this is a great place to come and enjoy a nice lunch or coffee. People often come alone OR in groups but starting up conversations is pretty easy. Lime Lounge is in Point Cruz.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">International Tea Group. Yes, there is an international tea group. These lovely ladies (and a few gents) meet weekly to discuss all things tea. I’ve been before and I highly recommend this group to partners of people who are working, as it is during the day around 10 a.m. These ladies are probably the most friendly bunch of women I know and they will graciously assist you with any questions you may have. Meeting times and location information is available at the Lime Lounge.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mommy’s group. There is a group of mommies who have play group. You can find out their meeting schedule through the kindies. I know a couple of ladies who are a part of these groups, so email me if you can’t find this information out. </span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Rain Tree Café. This is a place to chillax and meet people…I love it there but make sure you have enough time to sit back and enjoy.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Extreme Night Club. Okay, this is a probably the most decent and safe place to dance at in Honiara. Granted, Extreme has a certain Yuck factor about it. I won’t lie, the music sucks and you occasionally get groped by some drunk guy. I don’t often frequent Extreme but you can meet some interesting people there. Just watch your bag and those weird old expat men who sit alone in the corner with their beer chatting up 17 year old Solomon Island girls. </span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Yacht Club. It’s a nice relaxed atmosphere with a bar so if you are into sailing, boats or drinking, you should be in. </span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Iron Bottom Sound Hotel (IBS). This place is a nice setting overlooking the ocean. The pizza is pretty edible and you can always find groups of friendly people there. Just walk up and start a conversation, you should be fine.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yoga and Pilates. There are classes every Wednesday and Friday at the Heritage Hotel. I haven’t been but I hear its worth going. Its about 50 bucks per class.</span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">King Solomon Hotel Karaoke Fridays. This lasts till about 12 midnight and usually pretty fun. Great place to meet people and sing your heart out. </span></div>
</li>
<li><div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Aerobics. At St. John’s school. Now I love this class. Its filled with locals and expats alike who want to kick it 80s style. There is lots of hooting and hollering and people are very friendly.</span></div>
</li>
</ul>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, there are a LOT more clubs and activities here. The Coconut News is a great place to get all your information, ask around and you can get on their email list.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you are STILL stumped and lonely, email me and I can send you some contacts of friends who like helping newbies out. Once you meet people, you will start to get party invites and you are off. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-29780849387103158342011-10-17T23:05:00.000-07:002011-10-17T23:09:46.272-07:00The Visitor: Part Three<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
After the volcano debacle, I felt the need to reclaim some
of my pride, some of my dignity. Sure I
couldn’t make it and I crumbled like a stale cookie dipped in warm coffee. Look, I am not unfamiliar with failure. But I had to do something to make it up to H.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess, for me, I was deeply disappointed in the change of
path regarding the volcano on Savo. It used to be a lovely three hour walk up a
steamy river bed surrounded by huge cliffs.
The walk was a great little adventure with eight metre bamboo ladders
and walking over logs. It felt fun but
still doable. The walk we did was purely
unfun and although I know I could have made it through, I just didn’t see the
point. However, the walk fell prey to the classic Solomon Island excuse "land disputes". Well, I get it. People want to be compensated properly for their land...I'm not going to make a judgement call on whether its right or wrong. But it is disappointing.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, enough of my whinging. I know most of you, especially
the kiwis, are thinking “whoa, man up!”.
You are right…I should man up.
Moving on…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On our way out from Savo, I arrange for our patient boat
drivers to take us to the little volcano, a place that I had heard of but not
yet been too. We see a nice pod of
dolphins dancing in the waves near the boat on our way there. The sun is kissing the water and the island
of Savo looks like something out of Jurassic Park. We zip around quickly to the other side of
the island to see the small volcano. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After climbing our
way through one of the nicest villages I’ve seen in the Solomons, we make it to
the small volcano. There it is, a small cone, coming out of the
hillside. A hot stream glugs and
splutters near the path and we make our way down for a bit of a foot bath. The water isn’t as warm as I thought it would
be but it’s enough to know that something volcanic is going on. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Villagers come up with piles of food to place at the base of
the volcano. They use it as an oven or
motu. Our guide lets us play in the
stream and look at the bubbling mud. OOO
Bubbling mud!!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Although it’s probably not as cool as the other volcano, H
seems happy and that’s all that matters. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Then we trek our way back to Honiara on the boat. As we get closer to Honiara, I feel the relaxation
I’ve felt start to come under strain.
The truth is I prefer the villages to Honiara. I dislike all the pollution, rubbish, smog,
the harassment from men…I like the calmness of the villages. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, we come home for the few last days in Honiara.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day is spent shopping (for Helen) while I come back
to work. We sit at the rain tree and
enjoy some yummy pizza. I love the Rain
Tree café; its calm and quiet and you get to sit by the sea. What I hate about it is that it takes two
hours to get you your food. No,
seriously. Two hours. I watched the
waitresses take over an hour to serve pancakes the other day because they had
to go out get the ice cream. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s a typically Solomon Island place that is great on
weekends, killer if you are on a tight schedule.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We wake up early for H’s last morning in the Solomons. It’s off to Bonege Two for a quick morning
snorkel. Now, over the last few weeks
there have been rumours and security alerts about crocodiles and bull sharks
around the Boneges. Mostly, I think its
crap. I think you have to be
tremendously unlucky to see either of those creatures here. But still, I can’t help but think about the
crocs and sharks as we enter the calm waters…alone. The beach is literally empty, there is no one
about. So, we make the first tentative
swim out to the wreck. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The water is filled with jelly fish. I get small, annoying stings all over my
body, as does H. As we get into the
front part of the wreck, H lets out an enomorous scream underwater and, using
my stupid instinct, I make a break for
the shore, waiting only slightly for H. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We arrive safetly on the shore.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Oh…I’m sorry Sara, a jelly fish stung me on my mouth! It hurts and I couldn’t help it!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think you might need to pee on my face.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ugh. After a few
minutes, H doesn’t have anything worse than Angelina Jolie lips, so we decide
to head out </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
back into the water.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We stay out for a little while. Snorkeling and diving in the morning is
preferred in the Solomons. The water is calm and clear and the night fish and
day fish are punching their time cards, so you get to see both in the water at
the same time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We leave Bonege 2 behind for a bit of mango breakfast on the
balcony at Casa Turchese.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
H has a lovely morning of resting and then its off to the
airport. As I wave her goodbye, I feel
really sad. H is the only adventurous
soul to come see me here and I loved every minute of it. I hope she enjoyed her time here too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
H’s departure also signifies the beginning of the end for me
here in the Solomons. I’m looking down at three more weeks left to make a
difference, do my job, enjoy my diving and create mayhem. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But the truth is: I’m tired.
H’s visit was the longest holiday in more than a year. I haven’t seen my parents in over a year and
I won’t see them for another six months. My altruistic side got the best of me
and I used my holiday helping out in CHCH and I feel spent. Being here isn’t the holiday one might
suppose. Sure, its not </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
stressville
either but after awhile, it does grind you down.<br />
<br />
My stuff is starting to break down. Pinkie, my faithful Sony Vaio laptop, is showing her age. Ants are climbing in and out of my hard drives. My boardies (swimming shorts) are starting to decay with over use. My trusty snorkel mask is cracking. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I think in life one of the critical things is
to know when to leave. No
one wants to be the last drunk at the club or that person who is holding on to
that bad relationship because they can’t let go. Timing is important because you gotta know when you have
done enough and it’s time to move on. For me, that time is in about three weeks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Everyone has an expiration date here and I’m about ready to
curdle. So here is to the last three
weeks of Solomon Island time. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-1610048932757597362011-10-14T16:17:00.000-07:002011-10-14T16:17:24.380-07:00The Visitor: The Ballad of H and S<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">(Inspired and dedicated to one of my musical heroes, Bob
Dylan, who this week learned how to play the bagpipes at age 70.<span> </span>True story, well, at least as true as that
old trickster Bob ever gets).</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Verse One<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Climbing up that old volcano</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hot and steamy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And we both a-know</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Our hair is gettin too frizzy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">To continue on this path</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I’m starting to get dizzy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chorus<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So we climbed up</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Halfway to be exact</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I look H square in the eye</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And said</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year’s been a little rough</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this trail’s a bit too tough</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can we turn around, babe?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And drink some coconuts?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Verse Two<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Spiders as big</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As my torso</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sentinels in banana twigs</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Smalls Birds trapped in the web</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wrapped up like wontons (Editor’s note: I was clearly hungry
at this point)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Probably thinking I’d make a good meal for a month</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chorus<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So we climbed up</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Halfway to be exact</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I look H square in the eye</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And said</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year, its been a little rough</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this trail’s a bit too tough</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can we turn around, babe?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And drink some coconuts?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Verse Three<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She bows her head</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Can’t look me in the eye</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She could keep going</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Climbing on up to the sky</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, she nods and says</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let’s go make a g and t</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Chorus<span> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So we climbed up</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Halfway to be exact</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I look H square in the eye</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And said</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This year, its been a little rough</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And this trail’s a bit too tough</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My legs are a shakin and you’ve had too much a-quaking (this
year)</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Let’s go and hammock, my H</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And drink some coconuts?</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some experiences can only be told in verse, as above.<span> </span>So yeah, I’m ashamed to say I couldn’t quite
summit the volcano.<span> </span>BUT H was a good
sport about it, as she is about everything.<span>
</span>And I got to write a song.<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So every one wins. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Next time, questions will be answered: Did H leave okay? What happened to the face peeing incident? All will be revealed in the final chapter (without bad song writing) of The Visitor...</span></div>
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-81497147675637556102011-10-11T21:25:00.000-07:002011-10-12T16:13:26.480-07:00The Big But (A minor interlude)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
"Alas for maiden, alas for judge, rich repeiner and household drudge, God pity them both and pity us all ... for of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: It might have been."<br />
-John Greenleaf Whittier<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I know, I know…you are waiting to hear what happens to me and H. next…its coming but I had to do this one first.<br />
<br />
As I near the end of my assignment, I find myself somewhat
reflective on the last year and what’s happened.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I decided to come to the Sollies more than a year ago,
everyone I told said pretty much the same thing:</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“Man, I would love to do that but…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There were Buts all over the place. I’ve got a mortgage, I’ve a kid or a dog or
cat or a mom or an ingrown toe nail. I’m
saving for my car, my I-Mac or I’m in prison…whatever I heard it
all. <br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And here is what I have to say to all to the Buts: </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not particularly smart. Or sexy. Or funny. Or beautiful.
Or talented. Or rich. I just got off my
Buts. Cause life ain’t no dress rehearsal,
people. If you want something, you gotta
grab it and fight for it. Because if I
can do this great adventure I am POSITIVE that you can do anything. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sorry it may sound self righteous or you might say to
yourself “But, Sara, you’ve had sooo many opportunities that others haven’t,
like access to education and good parents…”.
And you know what? You are spot on. You bet your balls I’ve been
lucky. I have awesome parents who
supported my education and career every step of the way. I’ve been very fortunate in this life to have
had great friends, partners, mentors bosses and amazing jobs working for kick
ass organizations. I mean it hasn't always been a cake walk and sure I've got my down days but overall I’m grateful for each
wonderful, blissful moment of my life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Having said that, it’s still no excuse, eh. And here is why
I’m writing this: I’m tired from hearing excuses from people who feel they can’t
get what they want in life and would rather whine and sulk then get off their
But. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If you don't think you can change your life and think I'm an over privileged bad example, consider my friend D. My favorite inspiration person here in the
Sollies, D., who walked away from an abusive marriage that started at AGE 13 to
self fund her way through university to become an amazing advocate for education in the Sollies. Her life was surrounded by Buts: she had six kids, no money, no parental support. She
had nothing but she did something, built herself up to HELP OTHERS. She is my hero because she made her life
HAPPEN. She got her BUTs. She is a humbling example to me, when I am lazy or self indulgent (which is more often than I would care to admit), to pull up my socks and get back to work. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
If this woman, who had to deal with extreme abuse, poverty,
and sexism could fight through and make stuff happen in her life, so can you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I also got the "its the wrong time" thing too. Guess what? There will never be a sign from the heavens telling you it is a good time. Sometimes, you gotta jump,bad timing and all and hope for the best. Now, don't get me wrong. If you are happy and content with living your life cruising along, that's awesome for you. My crazy life certainly isn't for everybody and everyone has the right to enjoy their life on their own terms. I support anyone who is living life with joy and pride in what they do. What I'm trying to say is to those people who are holding themselves back from what they really want in life is just get off you But and do it.<br />
<br />
You think my life is cool? Awesome. I think it’s pretty cool too, in fact I
wouldn’t change anything about it. Guess
what? I know you can do better than me.
Well, maybe you won’t rock the ginger curls and red crocodile stilettos like
I do, but whatever. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So next time you hear your But start looking for another
way, cause believe me, anything is possible with your life. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Just sayin.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-35988318766296696082011-10-09T21:30:00.000-07:002011-10-09T22:08:00.433-07:00The Visitor<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I think you need to pee on my face, Sara.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
These are words that one never really wants to hear
especially sitting on a beach at 7 a.m.
But there we are, me and my best girl, H, sitting on Bonege Beach 2 at 7
a.m., her with a swollen mouth from a jelly fish sting and me with peeing anxiety. Not the most ideal way to end a stay in the
Solomons, but not unexpected either. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As H (my best girl) learned here, anything and I mean
ANYTHING can and does happen.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
***</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
H arrived the Tuesday before, the last to leave the customs
room, which is pretty much the size of the Nelson arrivals airport. Its tiny and hilarious and hot. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I see her emerge from the customs room, a wash of
emotions sort of come flooding in. H
brings an unexpected element to stay here in Honiara. She is the first and only guest I’ve had here
and I was both excited and nervous to have her stay here.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t get me wrong, it’s o for awesome having her come here
but it also leaves me with a sense of slight dread. H is the most supportive person I could have
in my life and she walked side by side with me during some pretty dark times,
from a sad, heart breaking separation to a city demolishing earthquake. But she also reminds me of how far I’ve come
and the zen, super adventurous life I’ve worked hard to achieve.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s hard not to love H; her enthusiasm and humour are
infectious. Her passion for her work (it
has something to do with earthquakes and scientists) and her zestiness for a
good adventure makes her the perfect companion.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s no rest for her
as we zoom through the main streets of Honiara to Casa Turchese for gin and
tonics and a good old fashioned catch up. Mackenzie, my local housemate, makes
a fantastic local dish of fish in coconut milk with roasted papaya(!!!). Awesome.
The neighbours come over for a nice visit and H begins her life in the
Honiara social scene.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next day, we drive along and she looks slightly
nervously around.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“I still can’t believe you did this, Sara…I mean, it was
really ballsy,” she says.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I guess I don’t know how to answer. I don’t feel
particularly brave or ballsy. I just
felt like the universe aligned to help me out and carry me to this place, where
I’ve found a really great life. I feel
like the luckiest girl alive and H comments about how much
happier and together I seem. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next night, we celebrate the International Day of Peace
at my friend Katherine’s house, with mediation, yoga and a violence free meal
(vegan). It’s all very peaceful and happy and when we
leave the house, we feel too zenned out to really talk. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
H makes her way around Honiara the next day, much more
confident than the day before. She
begins her process of getting use to the place.
I find it a bit challenging because Honiara is home now; everything
seems normal and I don’t do the whole “hey isn’t that interesting” thought
process anymore. So for me, seeing
Honiara through a visitor’s eyes is completely entertaining. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We walk around the streets and sort out the weekend’s
activities, though not without a bit of work. <i>EDITOR'S NOTE: </i><i>when the Solomon Islands Visitor’s Bureau offers
to book something for you, don’t do it! Just grab the number and do it
yourself! These guys are pretty
useless!!!</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, we go out to see my neighbor, Aidan, off. I’m sad to see Aidan leaving; he is a very
good neighbor, putting up with our antics and letting us play Band Hero till late. Which H and I do, singing her favorite heavy
metal toons until far too late. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We can’t stay for as long as either of us would like due to
an early morning appointment with the Sun Express to go across to Maravagi, my
favorite resort, currently, in Central Province.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The ride over is totally unexpected for me. I’m used to
bouncing around in banana boats, wondering half the time if we are going
sink. But the Sun Express cuts through
the rough water quickly and I find myself slightly sea sick, a totally new
experience in the Solomons. I guess I’m just a banana boat girl. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Helen enjoys herself as we make our way to Mbike, a little
island in the Galas. It’s a beautiful
stretch of white sandy surrounded by crystalline blue waters. Three large houses tower of the white sand
and it looks ideal but due to water issues, the resort has yet to open. I tell
the Sun Express people that I’ll bring my own water, if they just let me stay
there. They say that I’m not the first
person to offer…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, its off to Maravagi.
Now usually I jump off the boat just as we get close to the resort but
the size of the Sun Express means I can’t.
We quickly unload and begin our holiday in earnest. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
In the afternoon, we snorkel around the home reef, spotting
a nice sized black tipped reef shark.
Now that I’ve spotted a few of those guys, I understand a bit more how
to respond other than swimming in the opposite direction as fast as
possible. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We eat, snorkel, beach, eat some more and generally have
good chats. Maravagi is a great place to
just chill out and enjoy the best of the Solomons (although, this weekend I
went to Nugu and that was freakin awesome).</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, after our two days there, we make our way in a
banana boat across the sea to Savo, the lone volcanic island hugging the
northwest corner of Guadalcanal.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Savo is a totally different place to Maravagi. Blessed or cursed with volcanic activity, it
doesn’t have much of a reef to snorkel but it does have other things. We hammock and enjoy the simpler, taster
local food than offered at Maravagi. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next morning we wake up early to see a completely unique
sight…the Megapodes. Megapodes are little
black birds that resemble small chickens, but with better posture. There are several interesting things about
megapodes, one being that their eggs are around thirty percent of the size of
their torsos. The yolk from the eggs are
around 80 percent of the internal parts of the egg, making it yummy for omelets
(I know, H and I tried some!). </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We walk up to an area where some Savo-ites are digging in
the black sand. The area is surrounded
by a series of fences, covered with coconut fronds, giving privacy to the
Megapodes. A small group of Megapodes
dig into the black sand. The eggs are
incubated in the warm volcanic sands of the islands. After 31 days, the egg hatches and the bird digs
its way out, never knowing its mother or father. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, the locals have built up fences around their nesting
area to protect them from dogs and to give them a bit of privacy. As H and I pull the leaves of the fence
apart, we watch these fascinating little birds chortle at each other. Sometimes, it’s just holes in the ground with
dirt flying up in small clumps.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The birds make a quiet exit once their eggs are safely laid in
the holes. The locals make the signal
and it’s a mad dash of digging as they go for the eggs, sand flying everywhere. The eggs are highly priced as a protein
source but also sell for about 10 dollars Solomon an egg in Honiara. After about 10 minutes, a good amount of the
eggs have been dug out of their nests. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The megapods have waddled their way back to their jungle
homes, which one local points out to me as being a place that is taboo (sacred)
to locals and no one is allowed to visit or disturb them. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
H and I make our way back to the Sunset Resort, to enjoy a
meal of megapod eggs and pineapple. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We needed to eat up cause our next adventure would require
quite a bit of energy…</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
</div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-66976276423442376962011-09-22T15:22:00.000-07:002011-09-22T15:22:49.115-07:00Sex and the Solomons<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Okay faithful readers. I'm going to talk about it. I sort of pinkie promised myself that I wouldn't talk about cause, well, its a bit personal. But love is clearly in the air here in Honiara (I leave it up to you to ponder whether it has struck me or not). Everywhere I turn there are people falling in love or hooking up. I don't know if its the time of year here or what but something is clearly up.<br />
<br />
This is kind of my advice guide for newbies re: sexual interactions in the Solomons. I've started this little series for newbies because I get lots of emails asking me about what its like here, where are all the hot men etc...so I thought, after 10 months of being here, I've amassed a certain amount of wisdom on the subject. Just don't going thinking I'm a slutty mcslut for giving you this advice: MUCH of it has been gleamed from others. <br />
<br />
Let me say a few words to the non Solomon Island dweller: love here is a complicated thing. Not that love anywhere is straight forward but there are all kinds of taboos around sexual interactions in the Solomons. And, remember folks, these are ISLANDS. Hard to get away from people if it doesn't work out. <br />
<br />
When I go to the village, me and the local girls often talk about men. There is a surprising innocence and propriety around sex in the Solomons but, from statistics, its clearly going on here. The birth rate is high and unmarried pregnancies are common occurrences. <br />
<br />
<em>Note: There is also an alarmingly high rate of sexual violence towards women in the Solomons. This needs to be discussed at length on a highly effective level and I don't feel I have the knowledge or technical ability to clearly discuss those issues right now in this blog entry. I have several friends who work in that field and they are my heroes. It would be disgraceful to pretend to be as knowledgeable or as adapt as they are at discussing these issues. So I'm going to keep it light. </em><br />
<br />
Social sexual interactions are a strict no no in the Sollies. Men and women do not hold hands while walking down the street. Men hold hands with other men and women hold hands with other women but I have rarely seen a woman and man hold hands here. There is no public kissing or hugging of the opposite sex. <br />
<br />So without further ado, here is my thoughts on some of the key relationship terms or issues here in the Sollies. <br />
<br />
<strong>Weddings</strong><br />
<br />
Me and my faithful housemate Carol (who moved in about two months ago to Casa Turchese) attend a wedding on Saturday afternoon. There are certainly hallmarks of a very western wedding: the big white dress, the groom in a tux, and the bridal party all in matching pink outfits. The ceremony is Anglican and, in formal, quite similar to anything I've seen in the states or N.Z. But one thing is different. Instead of the “you may now kiss the bride”, the priest says “you may now lift the veil of your brides”. There is no big finish kiss, just a modest lifting of the veil.<br />
<br />
I felt slightly sorry of the bride in her huge white dress. The girl, only 20, was sweating profusely in the heat, as was her young groom.<br />
<br />
After the ceremony, the couple leaves the church and heaps of colourful confetti are thrown at the couple. Then we are off to another location for the reception. The bride and groom barely interact, as if slightly embarrassed by the whole situation. The reception is held at a school hall and the wantoks of the bride and groom have prepared a huge feast of motu (an above ground oven covered in rocks) kasava, fish, chicken and veggies. The wedding cake is banana with white icing (it was delicious, of course I tried it), three tiered with a white bride and groom statue on top.<br />
<br />
I was, I must admit, slightly disappointed with the conventional nature of the wedding. I was hoping for something a bit more Solomon Island rather than the traditional boring old wedding but it all seemed very by the book, down to the line of handshaking. <br />
<br />
<strong>Bride price</strong><br />
<br />
This tradition is common in the Solomon Islands. In most places, the original intention of it was to pay the family of the bride the amount of income they would lose when the bride leaves the family for the groom's home. <br />
<br />
Now, bride price has become a totally new thing (according to some of my local matron friends). There is a very large ceremony and quite a lot of money is now paid to “purchase” the woman. The intention, again according to my local matron (older women) friends, has been warped beyond recognition, giving the man “ownership” over his bride. Many blame the influence of colonization and the church for the reasons why women are now much more subjugated than before. With only snippets of oral history, its hard to tell whether women had it better or worse in the days before Mendana found this sun dappled isles. <br />
<br />
The tradition of bride price is controversial, as it creates a sense of women as objects that can be sold and bought, rather than individuals with rights and freedoms. However, not all people see bride price this way and some people stick to the traditional notion of it being simply a method to compensate the families.<br />
<br />
Either way, it is an old tradition in the Solomons and not one that is likely to be changed any time soon. <br />
<br />
<strong>02, 03s (pronounced oh-two, oh-three)</strong> <br />
<br />
One not uncommon phenomenon here is the concept of having multiple partners, usually without the other partners knowing about it. Its not just a male activity, women here take multiple partners as well, especially in Honiara (its fairly unheard of in the villages).<br />
<br />
I believe the concept of having multiple partners came, partly, out of the over abundance of women versus men at one time in the Solomon Islands. When I speak to my local male co-workers, there seems to be a perception that if you treat one woman badly or get bored, simply get another one because there are so many women. <br />
<br />
In a recent meeting, I pointed out that, statistically speaking, there are now more men than women in the Sollies and a significant amount of more men than women in Honiara. My local male coworker was shocked, and explained:<br />
<br />
“But there are so many women at the clubs!” <br />
<br />
Despite the anecdotal evidence, this may turn into a problem very soon for Solomon Island men. With less women, there could, potentially interesting shifts in the dynamics of social interaction. <br />
<br />
<strong>Bush Married</strong><br />
<br />
Living together is kind of a no no in the very religious Solomon Island context. Locals have created a work around called being bush married which is living together but not legally married but is recognised as being married by the local community. There are many reasons why this happens:<br />
<br />
-It can be difficult if you live outside the urban areas to get the proper paperwork completed re: marriage certificate. <br />
<br />
-Also divorce is also very difficult to get here, so many couples chose to stay married on paper, with the man or woman simply moving on to another relationship by living with someone else. <br />
<br />
-It is not uncommon for men to leave their wives and move on to other women quickly. <br />
<br />
-Women also run away from unhappy marriages only to find themselves replaced when they return to their villages. Often, women have to pay compensation to those who they have upset (usually the in laws) if they wish to return to their family home. <br />
<br />
<strong>Creeping (a slightly Chosieul phenomenon)</strong><br />
<br />
Now, I'm a bit hesitant to discuss creeping, as I am not an authority on this issue and I have never been to Chosieul, so I can't speak from experience. I do know that this does not happen everywhere in Choiseul, so bear with me. <br />
<br />
Choieul is a particularly gender separated culture; women and men rarely interact in a social setting. But, obviously, people need to interact somehow. The young available men go “creeping” at night. Creeping involves men taking ladders up to girls windows and climbing inside. Then stuff happens, the girl does not know who she is with and the man leaves. However, if the man likes the girl, he leaves out her bedroom door to meet with the father. This indicates his intention to marry to the family.<br />
<br />
While lots of local people have problems with this tradition, its a difficult one to break because the mothers and fathers of the young people involved typically met or interacted in this same fashion. I'll leave it up to you, gentle reader, to decide what you think about it. <br />
<br />
<strong>The non local context (EXPATS)</strong><br />
<br />
Dating amongst the ex pat community is not an easy thing, although I have several friends who met here and fell in love and have great relationships. But the expat community is very small and if it doesn't work out, pretty much everybody knows about it and why. The sense on anonymity is completely gone here and everybody knows everyone else's business. Essentially, my advice here is: don't be an asshole to people. If you want to shag around, that's fine, but people hear about it. If you treat people like crap, well, it gets around. I'm just sayin. <br />
<br />
Now, the drunken hook up is common here, as is drunken behavior in general. And, like a drunken hook up anywhere, its slightly uncomfortable to deal with but here, you gotta deal with it at some point. My advice is: deal with it sooner rather than later and just be upfront and honest about your intentions. Everyone will be happier if you do that. <br />
<br />
So, don't be an asshole. And if you do like someone, be pretty sure before you head in there cause it can get kinda messy if it turns to custard. Its very hard to avoid each other on this little island. Anyway, if things don't work out, my advice is to stay classy about it (which is my advice about most everything). <br />
<br />
<strong>Expat/local dating</strong><br />
<br />
Now, this is completely a personal choice and I really have no advice here. I have heaps of friends, both men and women, who have had cross cultural relationships here and its worked out great. I've also seen it go horribly, horribly wrong. <br />
<br />
The scenario of it going wrong looks something like this: I've seen ex pat men have relationships with local women, only to leave them when the contract is up, sometimes with little ones, and then the men are back off to Australia or N.Z., never to be heard of again. Or local men turning their backs on their families only to have their expat women leave them to another assignment and then struggle to reintegrate back into their wontok system. <br />
<br />
Also, be aware that the drunken hookup is likely not necessarily a wise idea with this context. I know several people who got called out by this, only to find out their hookup was married or a sex worker or both. Threats of violence can occur as do demands for money. So just tread carefully with the drunken hookup. <br />
<br />
I guess my only words of consideration is what it would be with any cross cultural relationship: respect the traditions and understand that there are significant differences between the two of you. Love and accept those differences. Trying to change anyone is an impossible feat in any relationship, so I wouldn't suggest trying it (believe me, its just not worth it!). That's my two cents. <br />
<br />
Again, don't be an asshole to local women or men. No one deserves to be treated like personal sex objects (unless they agree to that and are totally on board with it), especially the lovely, trusting and warm people of the Solomon Islands. Sorry but I'm going to be judgy about any douchebaggery in this regard. If you do treat people like crap, and I hear about it, we are going to have to have words. I'm just sayin. <br />
<br />
In conclusion, love is a complicated thing everywhere, even in these little sunny islands in the Pacific. So have fun, enjoy the sun, don't be an asshole and you should be just fine. <br />
<br />
P.S. To all the ladies who email me asking me where all the hot men are...well, typically they are all stuck on the base and need a pass to get out. So good luck with that, ladies.<br />
<br />
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</div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-44478730876001091062011-09-11T18:20:00.000-07:002011-09-11T21:59:28.144-07:00What a difference a decade makes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Ten years ago today a tragedy of almost
unimaginable scale occurred. The event, of course, is the terrorist
attacks on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now, I'm not doing this blog entry
because I want to discuss the events of that day or the devastation
of what occurred afterwards in Afghanistan and Iraq, indeed
throughout the whole Middle East. Whatever you believe happened on
that day, one thing is clear: everyone's life changed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
For me, this anniversary will also the
mark the day I moved from the U.S. At the time, I believed I would
return in a year, after my year of travelling around the world. I never made it around the world, not till last year. And I never moved back to the U.S.<br />
<br />
I remember the day clearly,
arriving at the airport in Christchurch, being interviewed by Radio
N.Z. Whilst watching the first scenes of the planes hitting the
towers, in shock. I had just left the U.S. a mere 12 hours before
and my home was under attack. I wanted to hop right back on the
plane and go back. But I couldn't. All the planes were grounded for two weeks. I was stuck in a country where I knew no one, the future uncertain. Scared, alone.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I found my feet in the wonderful country I would later call home for the better part of ten years. As for going home, I actually wouldn't return for another
year. I stayed in N.Z. for lots of reason but when I returned to my
home, everything was different. People were less welcoming, American
flags waved on lawns everywhere. It was like walking into the
Twilight Zone ...everyone was either afraid, angry or both. People
still talked in somewhat hushed tones and it seemed to me that
everyone was still very much in a grieving period.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I felt totally out of place; people had
gone through something I couldn't understand. I felt like a
foreigner in my home. In N.Z. I had been cushioned from the reality
of the grief, the pain my country was processing. The stark reality
of my choice was there, all around me, and it was intense.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Somehow, a decade passed. When I visit
home, things have moved on but the effects can still be felt in the
economy and in conversations. It is something so deep that I think
no matter how much time passes, the pain dulls but remains in the
background like a radio you forgot to turn off.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
Grief does funny things to people. Heart break can turn loving people into enemies. I know from my own experience that it can turn best of friends to strangers overnight. </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So after some reflection about life and its strange, epic confusing and grief filled turns, I honoured the
day, this sad anniversary, by doing what I call my Honiara epic day: five km run, a dive and
a yoga session.(Here beginneth the lighter part of this blog entry). </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I did a five kms run in the morning.
The run was a part of the Solomon Marathon. All of us eager beavers
started near the Heritage Hotel, bright and early at 8 a.m. On a
Sunday morning. Little pikininis (children) barefoot and excited
crowded the start of the starting line. And suddenly we were off,
running down the main street on Honiara. I did well for the first
500 metres and then my lungs began to burn.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
One thing stung: I was being outpaced
by a little four year old with bare feet wearing a red shirt and
matching red bandana. The little one screamed his battle cry as he
left me embarrassingly in the dust. Its like when you are skiing and
you see the little ones just zoom down the slopes past you while you
are laying a pile of poles and planks having biffed it on the ice.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
The race was typical of all of fun runs
I've done: those competitive types go to the front and run their
hearts out and then begin to walk, breathless and red. Now me, I'm
the definition of a pack horse, slowly but surely running at a steady
if slow pace. Yeah, its two kms down and the little rock star
pikinini has still outpaced me.
</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Finally, I meet up with Viola who has
decided to walk. I convince her to run to the half way mark with me;
I'm proud to say I haven't started walking yet. We drink up, take a
quick rest and then off. We run through the shade and then walk
through the light. Our bodies are covered in sweat and sunscreen
gets into my eyes, causing them to sting strongly. I used to love
running but I gave it up here but its difficult to do (although I do
show up at Hash occasionally but definitely not often enough).</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We make it to last bit and rock out;
finally I pass the little four year old, ashamed that I'm actually
glad I beat him to the finish line. I am a sad, sad woman.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
It feels great; the finish line is
filled with people cheering us through to the finish line. The
liveliness and happiness is like nothing I've seen before at a fun
run and the atmosphere is down right festive.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I take a wee break but meet up with
Stan, my fearless neighbour again after he finishes his 10 kms run.
We hop into his Hilux and head back home. In the car, we both agree
that its a beautiful day for a dive and why not? So despite my
aching right knee and the voice in my head saying “oi! Don't push
it”, we head off to Tulagi Dive to grab some tanks and weights.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Now, this is my third dive of the
weekend, having done Bonege 1 and 2 the day before. But no matter,
the ocean is calling both me and Stan. I'm on my tenth dive and now
the gear is getting easier to put together. The water is calm to get
into and the clarity has improved greatly on the day before. We
sink down easily into the depths, right on to the wreck. After
motoring around, we go deep. I'm not going to confess how deep
because it was slightly unwise to go that deep with only 10 dives
under my belt. However, one must follow their dive buddy and Stan is
an advanced diver, taking me through the darkened rooms of the wreck.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I should feel nervous being this deep
but I'm not. I feel perfectly calm because one thing I've learned in
life: panic can kill you. Over the last ten years, I've learned that
nothing is worth losing your calm over. Nothing. We make our way up
and have a quick decompression stop. There are literally millions of
fish, big and small, hanging around the wreck. Stan and I pick a
spot and sit in the sand, watching the sea underworld go by.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I make it up first and even though the
waves have picked up, my legs hold out underneath me and I make it
out of the water without a struggle. We pack up and go home.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Lunch is bowl of soba noddles with
slippery cabbage and bok choy. I sit, savoring it on my balcony,
looking out at my peaceful tropical valley that ends with a beautiful
view of the sea. The Galas, a series of islands, seem to float out
miles away.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then its on to yoga for some more zen
time. I glide through the poses on my balcony, occasionally stopping
to look out on to the sea.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So why am I telling you this? What
does my “Honiara epic” have anything to do with the largest
tragedy my country has ever known?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because my way of commemorating this
day is to live, to do the things I love. I feel like I am honoring
the day by enjoying this moment. I am doing things I didn't know I
loved to do two years ago or even one year ago. I think of NYC,
Washington...even Christchurch and what sudden change like disaster
has to teach us. In the end, all we have is this moment. All the
plans in the world can be disrupted and changed.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I guess if this decade has taught me
anything, its that you can always rebuild from the devastation of natural or personal disaster. As my thoughts go out to the families that lost their loved ones,
through the attack or through what occured afterwards, I hope they have
found peace with their loss and are rebuilding and recovering.<br />
<br />
As rough as it is to pick yourself up after a devastating loss of a loved one or a home, you can always heal and
start again. You can have a new life, a new hobby, a new
relationship, a new career. A new home. A new view. I think I'm on my fifth new life chapter since that fateful day. Each new chapter, each new beginning has taught me something very valuable and though these changes have sometimes been brought about by great loss and pain, I value those important moments of transition. <br />
<br />
This beginning, this Solomon Island time, I've
learned to slow down, to savour, to enjoy. Sure the past is there in
the background enriching who I am and still teaching me things. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I honour what has come before, those who I have left behind. I am learning to be gentle with the past, including how I view my own and other's actions. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Because life begins again.
</div>
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<br /></div>
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And isn't that the beautiful thing
about life?
</div>
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<br /></div>
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S</div>
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</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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</div>
</div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-8940144710367267172011-09-06T23:01:00.000-07:002011-09-06T23:01:44.732-07:00Newbie Honiara Guide: What to Bring Part Two<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Alright then...we've covered what to
bring your luggage...moving on to the shipping allowance. If you are
lucky enough to volunteer and/or work for an organisation that will
pay for your stuff to be shipped to these lovely isles, here is what
I think you should focus your packing energies on. Of course, what
is important to me (e.g. shoes, pink electronics, diving knives) may
not be important to you. So use at your own risk.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If you have a substantial shipping
allowance:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Here are a few ideas
of what to bring if you have a substantial shipping allowance.
</div>
<ol><ol><ol><ol>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bedding. BRING FITTED SHEETS!
I hate making my bed at the best of times, so without fitted sheets, I lived a life of frustration and angst (just kidding). Honiara doesn't really have any fitted sheets, I HIGHLY recommend
bringing your own. Also bring a blanket, I know it sounds crazy
BUT you will get to the point in the cooler season when you might
feel slightly cool at night. It took me about five months to get
there but my little throw blanket is now always on my bed.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Exercise equipment. Gyms here
are pretty average and most charge about 50 dollars Sollie per
visit. Its a better idea to get a nice home gym going. Running
is fine here but be prepared to be followed by gangs of pikininis
(children) screaming and laughing at you and to be harassed by
men (if you are a woman). I recommend some weights (or those
band thingys), a swiss ball, and perhaps a treadmill.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Small appliances. Bring your
favorite toaster, jug, food processor, blender etc...Small
appliances are expensive here and not very good quality. Our
toaster (which was quite cute, it had a plastic fish on the
handle!) broke within two months. I had to bring one from N.Z.
when I came back from Christchurch. I sent a few things over,
including my stick blender that has a small food processor unit.
It works great and takes up very little room. I highly recommend
taking anything that is multipurpose and durable. Be prepared to
leave it here.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Knives-bring some good
ones...you can buy decent knives in Chinatown but they are kinda
pricey.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Herbs, salts, oils etc...I'm a
bit of a foodie and I love my hickory smoked rough sea salt. I
also love my Nando's Peri Peri sauce. I can't get either here.
Bring fancy herbs, salts, oils...anything you feel like you can't
really cook without, here. If you have the room, why not?</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bring your balls aka sports
equipment. Bringing extra sporting equipment like soccer, rugby
and basketballs will endear you to the locals. The Solomons
Islanders particularly love their football (soccer), so consider
bringing a few extra balls. Also a small air pump won't go
wrong.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Tupperware or Sistema storage
containers. Okay, here in the Sollies there are ants, cockroaches
and rats, oh my! They love food and you don't want them to get
into your food. Bring really good storage containers (I love
Sistema) but its up to you. Be aware that rats are particularly
aggressive and can chew through the plastic so the tougher your
containers are, the better.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Bikes. You can bike around
Honiara, in fact I've seen quite a few pedallers lately making
their way to the beach, going for a snorkel and then biking back.
What a great Sunday morning! If you are out in the provinces,
biking is a great idea. Bring a mountain bike rather than a road
bike, your ass will thank you. Oh and bring a bike lock! Again,
be prepared to give it to a local person when you leave.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kayak and/or surf/body boards.
Kayaking here would be amazing! You can purchase a dugout canoe
here for about 500 sollies but the balance is quite different
than a kayak and tipping out is a big possiblitiy. I recommend
bringing one if you can afford it and have space. Surfing here
is AWESOME (according to my wantok Eddy). The breaks have NO ONE
on them and they are pretty amazing. A body board would also be
pretty cool here too.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Kids toys/equipment/etc...I am
not a mum so I can't really advice you if you are parent. Here
is what I Would recommend though: the toys here are pretty cheap
and are incredibly breakable. Bring robust stuff from home or
ask a local carver (there are many) to make you some wooden toys.
Again, my housemate makes these, so send me an email if you are
interested. Also, if you want to get in touch with the parents
group, I know people who are involved, so feel free to email me
for contact details.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Life jackets. There may be a
time when you have to travel by boat and there are no life
jackets on board. Bring your own, if you want, to ensure you are
safe should the boat capsize.
</div>
</li>
</ol>
</ol>
</ol>
</ol>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Furniture is pretty good here and most
houses come with the basics. You don't have to bring your
refrigerator, freezer, washing machine etc...here unless otherwise
advised by your agency.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Don't Bring:</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
There are going to be some items that
you will definitely NOT want to bring here. These are my ideas:</div>
<ol>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Expensive jewelry. If you want to
keep it, don't bring it. I would never recommend any bringing any
kind of expensive or sentimental items here. The chances of it
getting nicked or lost is high. If you are married and want to
bring your rings, I suggest buying or wearing only a simple band.
Wearing a big diamond around Honiara pretty much targets you for
petty criminals. And also, in a country where the cost of your ring
can feed a family for five years, do you really want to be flashing
around that kind of wealth? I know I wouldn't be comfortable with
it. But its up to you. Also, I purchased almost all of my jewelry
here. I like the local accessories and I don't worry if it gets
lost or broken.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your entire pantry. First off,
don't bring tins of tomatoes or fruits, you can buy it here. By
bringing your entire pantry from home, you are kinda a weirdo. Why
would you want to come here and just eat the same food you ate at
home? Why not just stay at home? It might be slightly more
expensive here but by bringing your tin of Watties Beans (again you
can buy it here) you are also wasting shipping room. Buy local, if
you can bring yourself to do it. I figure the less processed food
you eat, the better for a number of reasons.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your car. You can buy a car from
Japan and ship it here, usually for a cheap rate or purchase it from
another expat (someone is always leaving). If you love your car,
don't bring it here. If you do decide to bring your vehicle here,
be prepared to pay a mint when you return to your home country in
repairs on shocks, tires and the chassis. This place is killer on
cars. I recommend purchasing a little 4wd vehicle, the roads here
are very bumping and there are lots of potholes. My personal
favorite (and perhaps next vehicle purchase in N.Z.) is a diesel
Toyota Hilux. I love those grunty beasts; they can go anywhere.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your designer clothes. Clothes
take a beating here, from hard water to over enthusiastic house
meres. Bring a small capsule wardrobe (see clothes above) and then
go to the kalico (bale or second-hand) shops. You can purchase
great stuff there. Plus, you don't want to be wanker showing off
your expensive clothes from home. Remember, people make very little
money here, so being understated in your wardrobe is probably best.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Art: Don't bring your own art,
unless you are prepared to part with it. This climate is killer on
canvas. There are some great local artists (my housemate Mackenzie
is one of them) who is happy to be commissioned to do specific work
for you (email me if you want to know more about this). Again,
doing this helps the local economy and you can take the art home
with you as souvenirs.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your pet. Again, if you want to,
go ahead. I do know a couple people who brought their animals and
its fine. However, Honiara's animal kingdom is a brutal place. The
streets are lined with feral dogs and cats and chickens (most are
mine, I can't help but keep on adopting these cute fellas. Shade,
my kitten, is the latest adoptee, and at five dollars Sollie per tin
of Solomon Blue, he is fairly affordable to feed). There are lots
of lost dogs and cats that need a good home and a little love, even
temporarily. IF you bring your beloved cat or dog, keep them indoors
or on your property at all times. Leaving your animal to wander
around is a recipe for saying goodbye to your beloved pet.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Chocolate. BRING AT YOUR OWN RISK! It will melt as soon as
you get off the plane. You might be able to get away with it but
pack it in a separate bag so you don't get liquid chocolate all over
your stuff.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Your important documents. Other
than your passport, I would only bring copies of your important
documents. Mold loves paper, so just bring copies and store the
originals at home. Same goes for photos.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
High end electronics. Leave your
Bose speakers and Wii at home. I mean, if you want to bring it,
fine, but remember that by bringing it here, you run the risk of
having it stolen. Expat houses DO get targeted by thieves.</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Wine. I mean, if you want to
bring your 200 aussie bottle of wine, thats cool, but consider that
you are going to have to run your air conditioner to keep it cool
(if its a red). Also, there is no guarantee that its going to come
to you in one piece or that some of the wine won't go missing. Save
your money and buy locally. Yeah the bottles here aren't as great
as it is at home, but you can still get a decent bottle of wine.
</div>
</li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Fancy china and glassware. Unless
you are hosting state dinners, don't bring expensive china here or
flatware or expensive glassware. Tessa and I purchased six beautiful
water classes and within seven months, only one remains. Things
break often here. Aus Pak is a great place to buy sturdy plastic
plates and flatware for good prices. Most of the Chinese shops have
a pretty good selection of affordable glass ware.
</div>
</li>
</ol>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Basically, when packing, balance
between needs and wants. Think about what you want to have, how much
time you have here and how you want to use that time. Its great to
have a WII and an XBOX 360 but do you really want to spend your time
indoors when you could be out socialising, getting to know people and
being active?
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I know what my answer is.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
And there endeth my two cents on what
to bring to Honiara....</div>
</div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-32286622129832152382011-09-01T18:22:00.001-07:002011-09-01T19:01:08.061-07:00The parable of the prawn and goby fish<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt8WZskabdQ/TmA3TvTHUCI/AAAAAAAAAQE/cXxYtLxmnn8/s1600/gobyfish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="208" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Dt8WZskabdQ/TmA3TvTHUCI/AAAAAAAAAQE/cXxYtLxmnn8/s320/gobyfish.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The goby fish and the prawn chillaxing in their pad.</td></tr>
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Bonege Two</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After a run of a diving drought, I get a break with my friend Ned. We get up early; around 6:30 a.m. on a Saturday (!!!) to beat a path down to Bonege 2, an old WW2 wreck that I dived when I took my PADI course.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">There is something about being the first person at the beach. Something slightly invigorating but also scary; you have no idea if there are crocs or sharks and no one has scared them away yet. So I guess that makes it our job to do the spooking of the large, scary animals away from the wreck.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Despite my neurotic tenancies, I get in the water and make the decent into the deep. The water clarity is pretty amazing; I can see the giant barracuda swimming calmly about 30 metres or so away and then it flits off into the deep. Ned is a perfect dive buddy; calm and relaxed. We do have to call the dive off early due to his ears not adjusting but it was totally worth it just to get back in the water. It leaves me wanting more, to discover more about the mysteries of the wreck. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Bonege One</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The next weekend, I get my hands on some dive gear and commit to two dives; Bonege One and Two on Sunday morning. Its another early wake up call and this time my diving buddy is Stan, my eternally energetic neighbour. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The water is rough and I struggle in the waves, swimming on my back. I swallow more salt water than one should. Unfortunately, my buoyancy isn't quite right and I sink only a metre below the surface. We go back in and I'm a bit angry at myself. I need help to emerge from the waves and a friendly bloke holds me up as I stagger like ship wreck survivor onto the beach.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We take a moment and weight me down further. I get back into the water and sink quickly below the waves.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A great part of the dive is the beginning, right as you begin to sink under the surface. As you look up, the surface looks like rippled glass. As you sink below the waves into the deep, all the troubles of life seem to slip away. Everything becomes infinitely still as the feeling of weightlessness takes over. As I focus, fish come into view and begin to swim around me. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We float around a bit and then go down to the sea floor. The shelf quickly cuts down and disappears into the deep. As we swim along the floor a dark shadow appears into view. We have found the wreck of Bonege One.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am sure that the designers of these warships never intended them to be stranded in the deep however the turrets, poles and hull seem to fit seamlessly in the underwater environment. Like a ghost, the ship sits quietly at the bottom, decaying and yet, with the coral, it grows and expands daily. It's original purpose of bringing death and dominance to the Pacific, now brings new life.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At first, I find his form of diving a bit unnerving. He sits on the bottom and just watches and waits. He is simply graceful underwater while I flail around, using my useless arms to motor through the wreck. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The wreck hosts the usual suspects: clown fish, trigger fish, large angel fish and a gazillion other specifies I can't name. I seem to struggle with my balance though and use my arms far too much. I'm terrified of touching the wreck, with its rusty pointy bits promising infected cuts. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I leave the water again but this time I don't require any assistance to get out (woot)! </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Bonege Two (again)</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Stan and I spend our surface interval talking about the dive and how I can improve my buddy skills. Stan is a big believer of getting down to the bottom and letting the underwater world pass by you. The key is: the calmer you are, the calmer the underwater life is around you and comes to you.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The water is decidedly much more rough. Even at the bottom of the sea floor, the currents are pushing us around like paper dolls. We quickly swim over Bonege 2 wreck and go deeper to get away from the currents. When we reach the bottom at 19 metres, Stan takes out his underwater torch and we begin to explore the chambers of the wreck. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Schools of small yellow fish hang out in the dark, waiting the storm out from above. They look surprised at our appearance and quickly swim off. As we look under the wreck, a small shark darts to escape the light from the torch. Its not a shark I've seen in the water before and we quickly identify as a baby tiger shark. I don't want to wait around to see its mother, so we circle back to shallower water.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">You meet strange things at the bottom of the sea floor. Disco clams, jelly fish, blue spotted rays and my new favorite: the goby fish with its friend/symbiotic heterosexual life partner, the prawn. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The goby fish and the prawn live in perfect balance which each other. Their relationship works like this: the prawn is slightly blind but good at digging burrows. The goby has great eyes but no arms in which to dig a safe burrow for its eggs. The prawn digs and the goby keeps watch. These BFFs maintain constant physical contact through the prawn's antenna and the goby's tail. When the gobi flits into the burrow, the prawn follows. The fish earned the name as the “watchmen” of the prawns.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Together, they survive the predators of the deep. As we round a large circular piece of the wreck, we interrupt a pair of these weird prawn/gobys. Its to our credit that they just chill out and watch us, not at all bothered by these two weird looking creatures. The goby, which is about the length of my middle finger, watches us with big black dolls eyes while the prawn sits there, oblivious to us. I watch them for awhile, noticing their bizarre relationship of contact physical contact and complete genetic mismatch. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I have a couple of questions about these two. First, how did they figure out relationship ages ago? Did they get drunk one night and the prawn slurs to the goby “hey wanna come back to my burrow? I need someone to help me protect it. Plus I have Sky.” Second, now that they have hooked up through the ages, how do they find new ones each generation? I mean was there speed dating involved or ads in the paper: “wanted: one handsome goby to look after burrow for sexy blind prawn. Must have a sense of adventure and like sand.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But more importantly, I wonder with this odd couple, if they ever fight? Do they try to change each other? Does the goby complain about the prawn leaving his dirty underwear around the house? Does the prawn wish the goby cooked more often and clean the dishes? Does the prawn ever think “man, I could do a lot better. This guy doesn't even care how hard I worked to dig my burrow!”questions don't get answered by watching them, they seem pretty happy to just let each other be...well...a prawn and a fish.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Despite these philosophical musings, I have to end the dive as my air begins to run low. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The climb out of the surf is horrific. I get washed up to shore with 50 pounds of gear on my back. Every time I try to get up, a large waves smacks me down. I swallow water and realise that I'm in real trouble if I can't sort myself out. I crawl up the shore, only to be dragged back into the water, then a wall of water pushes me back out onto the rough rocky beach. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I feel like every muscle and bone in my body has abandoned me. My body is getting tired and a small alarm bell rings off in my head. There are no other divers on the beach and Stan is nowhere to be found. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I cry out for help and a local guy comes out and grabs me, hauling me out of the waves. He cries out and says that its too dangerous to be diving. He's right but I'm too tired, embarrassed and pissed off to want to talk about it. After a moment of steading myself, I walk up the beach, bloodied knees and a bruised ego and meet Stan at the truck. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Despite the rough entry, I find that I can quickly steady myself and get the gear off. Two dives in a day for someone who isn't “diving fit” is exhausting and I make my way home quickly. I demolish a bowl of pasta and quickly beat a path towards my bed, thinking about the weird relationship of the goby and the prawn. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">As I sink below the surface of consciousness, I think that if these two strange creatures, who really have nothing in common, genetically or otherwise, can live together, why can't the rest of us?</div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-21068169053964498762011-08-28T22:47:00.000-07:002011-08-28T22:48:00.006-07:00Newbie Solomon Island Guide: What to bring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"> <title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Okay, I have to go back a step. I've been here so long now that I skipped an important part: packing before you get here. I was asked (actually one friend demanded and got quite cross with me that I forgot to include this) by some friends to cobble together what I believe to be crucial items to stuff into your suitcase before making a visit or a move to the Sollies. THIS IS WHAT YOU SHOULD BRING IF YOU LIVE HERE. If you are just visiting, bring items 1-5, 7-10, 12, 15, 21-27, that should be sufficient for the time you are here. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">NOTE: This is based on MY experiences and those of my close friends. Other expats may have a different list entirely and thats cool. If you have any questions about any of the below, feel free to email me. Also, you will notice this is skewed towards the ladies, as I am a girl. Tough luck, boys. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What you need to know before you go:</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First off, remember that this a developing country in a very isolated part of the world. Everything comes here by shipping boats and, well, sometimes those boats don't show up or can't pay the port fees or other taxes to offload their goods. This means that food and product shortages occur often. What you can rely on is the basics like local veggies and fruits and fish. You may have a shipping allowance to bring goods into the country (I discuss that further below) which means you can bring stakka (lots) of stuff but I would focus your packing on things that aren't available or are very expensive to purchase here. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>The Golden Rules</b></div><ol><ol><ol><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Don't bring anything that you can't bear to part with. I know this may sound harsh but if you have something that would make you sad to part with, like a teddy bear your mum gave you or a diamond engagement ring, I wouldn't bring it. A good example: my dad lost his wedding ring, which he had for more than 30 years, whilst snorkeling in Hawai'i. He never got it back and he was gutted. But many people do and nothing happens, however be aware that you are taking a risk to lose those items. I have known several friends who were very upset when personal and sentimental items went walkabout and never returned. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The more things that serve dual or triple purposes, the better. For instance, a yoga mat is great for relaxation but also makes a good bed roll in the villages. I have torches that have a red light as well as a regular light that can serve as an emergency signal. Again, the more multipurpose, the better. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Bring extras. If you have room, chose a few things to bring doubles of. I've mention them down below.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Don't panic! IF you don't get everything on the list, you will be fine. Many expats leave frequently and they often leave stuff behind. Also, remember that you will likely be going home at some point, so prioritise what you need to be bring based on usefulness to you. </div></li>
</ol></ol></ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Your luggage</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">20 kilos is your check in luggage allowance for all flights in to the Solomons (commercial) and seven kilos for your carry on. However, there are few things you can do to get more on the plane. You can pay extra OR, if you are going on Solomon Airlines, ask for a 10 kilos sporting goods allowance (call first to make sure this policy is still in place). Its free and I have done it myself. Also, check what your international flight limits are. Mine was 30 kilos for Emirates and I checked my bags all the way in from Charles de Gaulle to Honiara. I had 27 kilos and was not charged any extra coming into Honiara. Maybe I just got lucky. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Bring at least one really good back pack, the more waterproof, the better. Also, don't bring the flashiest luggage you can find or anything too new. My suitcase is a road warrior and looks that way. I've never had my stuff broken in to because of it. Just sayin. </div><ol><ol><ol start="4"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div></ol></ol></ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Stuff to pack in your luggage (in no particular order):</b></div><ol><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Snorkel, fins and mask. Buy a good set. If you can afford it, bring two. I have three sets of fins/masks/snorkels. Whenever I go anywhere with friends, I always find that someone has left their gear behind, so I end up loaning my extra gear to people. Its also handy to have a few spare sets in case your best set breaks. Snorkel gear is expensive here, and not easy to find, so bring it! Slightly used rather than a older set is best. The plastic around the mask does age and will eventually crack, causing the mask to leak. No one wants a mask full of sea water, so bring something either new or just slightly used. </div></li>
</ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> Snorkel purchasing hint: bring the best kind you can, with tempered glass so it can double as a diving mask. Also I prefer the one with one big lens rather than the dual one. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> NOTE: IF you are a diver or interested in becoming a diver, BRING YOUR OWN EQUIPMENT minus weights and tanks (if you have a shipping allowance, feel free to stick your gear in there if you don't want to dive straight away). Seriously, renting gear is very expensive. After about 10 dives or so, you will have made it worth the initial cost of getting your gear.</div><ol start="2"><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Knife-Swiss army knifes are great, I suggest buying one or a big knife. Note: I had a diving knife that I forgot to pack in my check-in (it was in my carry on) and I had to give it up. I'm still sad because that knife was SO Lara Croft and Marco gave it to me as a gift (Actually the cheap Italian made me pay him something for it, he said you can never give a knife for free)...</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Sunscreen. Bring a LOT. Sunscreen costs about $250 sollies here, which in my book is pretty pricey. Typically you can only get it here at the chemists and there isn't a lot of choices (mostly its Nivea). So wherever you are, load up. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Board shorts and swimming shirts. I highly recommend getting yourself some board shorts because showing thighs for women is a big no no here. Rashies or swimming shirts are also great to protect your skin against the sun and coral reefs. Believe me, if you snorkel, you will probably get a coral cut and those are no fun (coral can GROW inside the wound. Believe me, it sucks). I suggest getting a short sleeve and a long sleeve one because the long sleeve one is great for protecting your skin when you are on a banana boat.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Books-There is one bookstore in the whole Solomon Islands. That's right, ONE. Its a second hand bookstore and closes often without much notice for weeks at a time. If you want to be very generous, buy some kids books, there really aren't any here and kids will love you for it. If you have a shipping allowance, use it to ship out books. You won't regret it. Alternatively, I have an e-reader and that is also very useful. Either way you will want something to read while you are here.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">External hardrive. Buy at least one (I have two), I recommend the one terabyte hard drive. If you have Irish pirate neighbours, like I had, get them to fill it up with stuff you want to watch while you are here. Minus the entire series of Krog Mandoon. Well that actually was pretty funny. Also, use it to back up your hard drive on your laptop. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">First aid kit-I got one from my volunteer organisation before I came here but I think investing in a good first aid kit is an excellent idea. St. Johns in N.Z. has a great set of first aid kits, as does the Travel Doctors. I would go with the Travel Doctors because theirs is focused on people traveling in exotic areas. Bring some extra Savlon or anti bacterial cream. Also, extra Panadol is a good investment as it is slightly pricey here. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Malaria pills-Everyone seems to have an opinion about whether to take malaria pills or not, but I would suggest bringing them anyway, no matter what your opinion is about it. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Small mosquito net. I recommend bringing one when you travel. You can bring a larger one for your bedroom at home if you wish too. I would pack the larger one in my shipping allowance and bring a small portable one in my luggage.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A big floppy hat and sun glasses- As a bit of a ginger, I BURN in the sun. To stop this from happening, I have a big floppy hat that I wear to the beach and on the banana boat. I recommend bringing some kind of hat to protect you from the sun. Don't bring your expensive designer sun glasses here unless, again, you are prepared to part with them. There are quite a variety of cheap sunglasses here and I buy a pair every other month or so, because these break easily. But again, its up to you. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Laptop. I highly recommend bringing your own personal laptop. Pinky, my 2009 Sony Vaio, goes everywhere with me and I would be lost without her. I watch movies, do work out dvds, talk to my parents on Skype, and all kinds of stuff on Pinky. I love her.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Map of the Solomon Islands. You really can't buy these here, except for at LANDS, which is a government outfit. I suggest buying a good map before you come, if possible. Laminate if you have time. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Torches (flashlights). Look, you will be without power at some point, whether in Honiara or out in the provinces and in the villages. I recommend at least bringing two (big surprise there). Bring at least one waterproof one. Wind up torches are great because batteries are expensive.Head torches are wonderful things, bring one.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Computer related stuff: Bring some electronics dehydration packs. Moisture (and insets) get into things like laptops and you never know when your boat is going to sink and you have to save your laptop from a watery death (even with the silica beads, you might be out of luck). I wrap up my laptop in lava lavas and stick a silica gel bead packet there for about a day or so in the back of my closet. Works a treat and Pinky seems happy as. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Dry bags-Beloved by kayakers, dry bags are created to keep your stuff dry. I have a huge 60 litre dry bag and a small 10 litre dry bag for electronics. I have a dry bag back pack (which I LOVE). All my luggage is waterproof. Why? I go on banana boats quite frequently and it does rain and the boats fill with water. I want to protect my stuff from getting wet as much as possible. I would recommend bringing a dry bag, at least one, whether you are in the field a lot or not. Most of the resorts require banana boat trips, so it never hurts to have one.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Insect repellent: There are mosquitoes here. These little bastards sometimes carry malaria. I recommend wearing some when out in the field (I recommend Bushman, mine is 60 percent deet and has sunscreen in it). Sprays work good too, as do the coils (which you can purchase in Honiara. I am sure its filled with toxic stuff, which makes it so cheap). You can buy some hippie stuff that is a natural repellent but I've used some and it was basically a herbal perfume (which was quite pleasant). </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Iron tablets and vitamins : Okay, if you love meat, you are out of luck here in the Solomons. There is beef here but its very expensive and not the best quality. You can get a meat license, to bring 20 kilos of beef (vacuum packed) on the plane. Its a hundred Sollies and worth the investment if you can't live without your steak. Having said that, bringing iron tablets is a great way to ensure you stay healthy by keeping your iron levels up. I think a daily vitamin is also a good idea. It is difficult to get all your nutrients here, especially if you live out in the provinces and other than Centrum, the variety of vitamins here is low. There are no health food shops here, so if you can't live without it, bring it. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A light rain jacket. Its a tropical country. Enough said. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">E-perb: Okay, your basic eperp (or emergency beacon) is a great idea if you are spending some time in the field. It is not uncommon for boats to get lost or capsize here, and if you want to get rescued (hey, who doesn't?) an eperb is your lifeline. Basically, this little device sends a signal to Australia and then your home country is notified (there's a whole system) with your exact GPS coordinates. Then someone is called here in the Sollies and a rescue is organized. I've heard of people needing rescue in a number of situations here and they have had good success using an eperb.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Coffee. Yeah I know, it sounds strange, but if you are a coffee snob and/or Italian, it is better to bring your own here. Espresso coffee is VERY expensive here. I am not a coffee snob and I drink the Solomon Islands coffee and green tea. Its not as strong but I like it. Again, its up to you. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Yoga mat. Okay, you might not do yoga or any form of exercise. I do, yoga is a great for relaxation and refocusing (which you will need to do from time to time when working here). But I also use my yoga mat when sleeping out in the villages. Often, all you get is a woven mat on the ground. The first night is pretty uncomfortable but you will get used to it. In the meantime, a little extra padding that a yoga mat provides is priceless. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Drugs and women's hygiene-Bring your own, if you require special medication. Do not assume the drugs will be available here. This includes Epipens, birth control pills and things like condoms. While there is some availability with these items, I worry about the quality of what is provided but its up to you. Also, consider bringing your own favorite brand of tampons or pads as you may not be able to find what you want here. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Small toolkit. I know this will come as a shock to you, but I fix stuff in my house. A lot. A good little toolkit is great to bring as these are quite expensive here and difficult to find. Mine is pink, comes in a small brief case and is generally hilarious to carry around. Shout out to my ex husband for sending it to me here as a birthday gift in March; its been a great little toolkit and has gotten a lot of use by me and my neighbours. However if you don't have a generous ex husband, bring your own. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Good underwear. The stuff you can buy here is pretty low quality and personally, I wouldn't buy a bra from the second hand shops. I'm just sayin. Ladies, bring your sports bra. Or two. I have two (I have two of most things). I recommend wearing them on banana boats, ladies, I promise your breasts will thank you for it. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Clothes. Bring light coloured, light weight and loose fitting clothing. I recommend linens and cottons. Just don't bring white as it will stain immediately. I wouldn't pack too much though, clothes are cheap in Honiara at the local kalico shops. I've found quite a few nice clothes. Ladies, leave your short shorts at home, showing thighs are a big no no here. If you aren't sure, bring a lava lava (sarong) to wrap around you. You can buy these here but its always good to have one to start out with. Skirts are wonderful to wear and most Solomon Island women wear them as opposed to pants or shorts. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Beauty products. Ladies (or I guess dudes, if you are metro-sexually inclined) bring your good moisturizers, toners, cleansers, shampoo and conditioners if you feel you can't live without them. HINT: IF you don't want to fill your bag (there is a 20 kgs weight limit) with beauty products, buy them at the Brisbane duty free. Also, bring a good set of razors, the ones here are pretty dull and expensive. The beauty products here are pretty sub standard, so bring anything you feel you can't live without. However, don't bother with the nail polish, I found the best nail polish in the world right here in Honiara. More on that later...</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A small sports towel is a good idea. I wish I had brought one of those microfibre ones that pack up really small. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Your toiletries bag. Bring a toothbrush, floss etc...you can purchase all that here but its always good to have something with you already. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Shoes. Yes, I said it. Now, I'm going to recommend what kind of shoes to bring, because I have witnessed all kinds of shoe debacles here (and experienced my own). Shoes here are fairly expensive to buy and you certainly won't find the quality/quantity/price that you will at home. The essential list is:</div><ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">a) Flip flops/thongs/jandals/slippers: This is standard footwear for the Solomon Islands. If there was a dress code, this would be nambawan on the list of footwear. Seriously. This place loves its jandals. I wouldn't suggest bringing your $60 aussie pair of Havanas, especially if you want to bring them back home. Buy something cheap and comfortable because they will get WRECKED here.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">b) Sports sandals. I love my Keen sport sandals. They are durable, comfortable and I can pretty much walk anywhere in them. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">c) Crocs. Okay, I said it. Now, seeing Crocs being worn outside the home setting typically makes me cry inside BUT these shoes are ideal for the Sollies. Comfy, easy to wear in muddy conditions, dries easily; these shoes have it all. Ladies: I suggest buying ballet flats or similar if you want a more stylish option. My friend Viola owns a particularly stylish pair, sort of Mary Jane flats. These look great on her and she wears them all the time. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I feel dirty now that I have recommended Crocs, but it is what it is.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">d) Running shoes. Only if you like to run. However, most running shoes don't do too well in these conditions (dirt roads, lots of rocks, no flat surfaces) so be prepared to slip down hills.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">e) Walking shoes. You can get away with just sport sandals BUT there may be a time when you want to cover your whole foot. This could be when you are walking through the bush and need more protection. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">f) Reef walkers. Now I often just use my sport sandals in the water but owning a pair of reef shoes is a good idea. I own two and regularly lend out a pair to my friends. (If you are tight on space, you can use ditch these and use your sports sandals instead).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">g) One pair of Stilettos. Okay people, its called Stilettos in the Solomons for a reason. However, I do not recommend walking in these big girl shoes around town. Here is what I do if its a stiletto type situations: I wear my jandals to the party (cause its always a party thing) and then do a quick switch in the car or just outside. Pop your jandals back in your purse. When the party is finished, switch again. For men, I think it might be good to consider bringing one pair of dress shoes. </div></ol></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">MP3 Player. I use mine all the time while on banana boats and walking to work. I have audio books and enjoy rocking out to my favorite music while riding over the waves. I also listen to the BBC World Service and Wantok FM on the MP3 radio. It calms me down and helps make a rough ride a bit more enjoyable. Try to get one that is waterproof; my two aren't (yes I have two) but I haven't had any problem. I pop them into my electronics pouch (the one that helps dehydrate the device) every three months to keep them running smoothly. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A cheapie phone- Bring a cheapie phone, cause if you lose it, it is easy to replace. I recommend something by Nokia; the battery lasts for ages and its quick to recharge. Plus everyone seems to have one here. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A few extras: Ladies, if you have long hair, bring extra hair bands, clips etc...you can buy some here but really good ones are hard to find. Also if you want wireless or Internet in the home, consider bringing your own equipment to make this happen e.g. external modems, hubs etc...</div></li>
</ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">MAKE SURE TO PACK SOME CLOTHES ON YOUR CARRY-ON. Luggage does get lost here, even for a day, so make sure you have an extra change of clothes on you. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Duty free (what to buy)</b></div><ol><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Booze. If you can't live without your gin and tonic, buy some bottles at Duty Free. Be aware about travel times, sometimes the flights here leave Brisbane before the shops open (which sucks). You can pre-purchase your items online, just google Brisbane Duty Free and everything should run smooth (you can even get good deals by doing this as well as saving time). So make sure you have planned to pick up your duty free cause booze here is expensive.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Perfume. I wouldn't pack mine, I'd rather save my luggage allowance and buy it cheaper at duty free.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Beauty products: I bought a few items, including moisturizer (you will need a LOT here). You won't be able to buy Clinique or any other brand names here so load up. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Watches. I bought my little waterproof watch at duty free and I love it. </div></li>
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</div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-4302882298529868702011-08-21T21:07:00.000-07:002011-08-21T21:09:08.944-07:00Newbie Honiara Guide Part One: Food<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>(for Volunteers and anyone who might need it)</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>This blog is dedicated to my loyal, crazy, lovely, maddening, awesome house mate Tessa, who has stood by me, eaten my “experimental” food, helped me through my sad Sara period(s), took me to too many parties, so many I couldn't count (in a month!), and generally just loved me. I owe Tessa more than I can list here, so I won't try. I love her and wish her all the best on what lies ahead. The Solomons and Casa Turchese will miss Tessa. </b> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">When I came to Honiara, I felt like a babe in the woods. I was staying in a set of apartments/hotel. There were no other volunteers at my work and the other expats all had kids. I felt socially and personally adrift for weeks. I would come home and not know where to go and what to do. I made a secret vow then that I would do everything in my power to help other volunteers get used to the ins and outs of living in this unique part of the Solomons. SO here are my words of advice, starting with the basics. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This is the first part in my (actually I don't have a number yet) series to help you, Honiara newbie, avoid the traps, pitfalls and other crap that I and others had to endure. Learn from my mistakes, newbie, and you will be just fine (if not, send me an email and I'll cook you dinner at Casa Turchese and we can workshop what went wrong. Maybe we can make a flow chart or a diagram...maybe even a SWOT analysis! Oh God, I am such a bureaucrat...)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Part One: FOOD (Where to buy it)</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Please note: this guide is mainly for volunteers, however even if you aren't one, you may find it useful. Also, all currencies mentioned are in Solomon Dollars. One Solomon dollar equals about six and a half N.Z. Dollars or eight Aussie. Whenever possible, I will do my best to explain the physical location of each place. There are no street signs or addresses, so be patient with me. All right, lets get down to bidness...:)</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Food. Every one needs and/or wants to eat. Mostly three times a day. Sometimes less, sometimes more. Here is my quick advice on my favorite places to shop to get the essentials in food.</b></div><ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A) Oz Fresh. My favorite place to shop is Oz Fresh or Oz Pac. Its right near the Hot Bread Kitchen shop near Kukum market. Its in a set of five shops and is the middle. It has a neon sign that says OPEN on the doors. The doors are closed and it is air conditioned inside. Now, the thing I love about Ozfresh is the lady who runs the shop. She always give me a couple of onions, a packet of pasta, tins of tomatoes and other things. She looks after me and always tells me when her next shipment is in. I love her! The store also has a 13 dollar pack of Spagettini you can buy. It is the cheapest pasta in the Solomons. You can also buy a 75 dollar bottle of Sparkling wine from Aussie that isn't too bad. They usually have a good selection of apples, carrots and other veggies that you can't get at the local markets. The meat is reasonably priced (from Meat Lovers). </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">B) Bulk Food Shop. There are TWO bulk food shops, one across the road from central market and one near Aus Mart near the King Sol. Hotel. If you want something a bit more...exotic, then Bulk Foods is for you. IF you can't live without olive oil (like my housemate Tessa, who is leaving tomorrow...sniff...sniff...), then buy the 85 dollar 750 litre bottle. Its pretty good oil and its from Italy. The Bulk Food also has a good variety of dried lentils and beans, along with tins of tomatoes and fruit. Occasionally the store has “mystery” cans, that you can buy for 20 or 30 bucks. My friend bought one of these and turned out to be a huge can of tinned tomatoes. So buy one and enjoy the mystery (and if you get botulism and/or dog food, please don't blame me). True story: I once bought three beautiful rounds of Baby Kikorangi blue cheese here for 15 dollars...when I returned to N.Z. I couldn't even buy it in N.Z. Dollars for that price. Now, a word of warning: most food will be expired or just about to be. I buy blue cheese anyway, it makes it tastier. It also helps toughen you up so don't be afraid of the expiry dates.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">C) Baraks- The big Baraks is located at the last round about before you head out to the airport. Its a great locally owned grocery store with all the basics at reasonable prices. There is a smaller Baraks in Kukum and you can give that one a go.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">D) Fang's-Located in China town, past the Honiara Hotel. Fangs is the penultimate chinese store. IF you want any exotic spices, sauces, mushrooms, noodles etc...from the Orient, then this is your place. Prices are pretty good too, buy your sesame oil (perfect for green papaya salad and soba noodle salads). Remember: a little sesame seed oil goes a long way. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">E) Pick your own local. There are many shops in Honiara. Mostly the prices are the same in the local shops. Find one close to your work and make friends with the owner. </div></ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A volunteer life saver: THE CHEAP BINS</div><ol start="0"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Wings: Located in MPF plaza. This is probably the only real (sort of) grocery store in the Solomons. I always go for the cheap bins there; typically there are some good finds like noodles for 10 dollars (proper egg noodles) and soy sauce.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Y-Satos: I always get the 10 dollar fabric softener there. And a tube a wasabi. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Pantina Market: I DON'T GO THERE PRETTY MUCH EVER! I used to but only two bags of groceries cost me 400 dollars! However, they do have some good stuff in the cheap bins; I bought two packs of tacos for 10 dollars each. Sure, they were stale but I put them in the oven and BAM! Instant crispy tacos your whole volunteer family/housemates will love and eat.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Speciality Stores</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">a. Hot Bread Kitchen- I love the hot bread kitchen. The bread is pretty good, given the access to ingredients this business has. With two locations in Honiara (One next to Woodford School, the other in town near the central roundabout), this place is an important part of everyone living in Honiara. If visiting people in the provinces, bring them a couple of loafs of bread, believe me, they will be grateful for it.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">b. Meat Lovers-Near Kukum Market/Bahai. I don't know, I am on the fence about meat lovers. You can buy an N.Z. Chicken for about 80 dollars, which is pretty good. The steaks are good but most are pre frozen and then thawed out. Its a nice place and well lit. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">c. Nambawan Meat- The name alone wins it for me. However, there isn't a lot of selection at this place in Point Cruz, right next to Sullivans. I've only bought mince and steak there (I don't eat a lot of meat) but it was good. ALWAYS BUY PREMIUM MINCE. There was a very long conversation about this at lunch today, it may cost more but you don't want mince as tough as shoes, and not the nice italian leather ones. Believe me.</div></ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: left;">Booze</div><ol start="0"><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">a. Sullivans-This is my favorite place to pick up a cheap (62 dollars) bottle of Banrock Cab Sav Merlot. Also, if you buy 24 of the glass bottles of Sol Brew, they give you a crate and then you get money back if you bring back your empties in the crate. I love recycling, so I encourage you to give that a go.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">b. Wings-You can get your wine here but it is slightly more expensive.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">c. Oz Fresh- My favorite place to pick up a bottle of bubbly for 75 bucks. They have some other stuff I haven't seen around town.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">d. The Black Market. See below.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">e. The small shops in town. There are plenty of little walkins that are nothing but Solbrew selling points. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Best Markets</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">1. SDA Market-I love this place, pretty much because it is close to work. Its also bright, out in the open and friendly. I have never been groped, sworn at or had my pocket picked here. Bonus: its open on Sunday. It is also probably the best place to go for fresh fish. For a quick meal, I often buy the fried fish heads (yes I eat fried fish heads) and the casava pudding that comes in a pack for about 20 dollars. Its a pretty good deal.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">2. Central Market: Go there early Saturday morning for flowers. The earlier, the better. The flowers here are AMAZING! Its also a great place to pick up cheap lava lavas (sarongs) and small gifts. The food selection is great too but be careful of fights (they happen often), pick pockets (yes it happened to me), and being groped (if you are chick). Its dark in the market and not terribly friendly at times. Some people love it and others don't. I still prefer SDA.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">3. Kukum Market: This market is pretty much all about beetle nut. I avoid going there for shopping but I do walk past it everyday. They sometimes have fresh veggies there but its so close to the SDA, that I don't bother. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">4. Neighbourhood markets. I have one near my house and I like going there. You don't get much variety but its convenient and its nice to meet up with the neighbours. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">5. White River- What can I say about White River market aka the Black Market...its a seedy place. You can get most everything there like Kwaso (the local brew) and Solbrews if its late at night. I wouldn't recommend going there alone or at night. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>A shout out to neighbourhood canteens</b> </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Probably one of the best places to pick up canned goods and other essentials is your local neighbourhood canteen. Typically they are very small, the size of a tiny shack and have chicken wire over the winder (to prevent robberies). I love going up the hill to my local canteen. I can top up my mobile prepay as well, which is always helpful. These little canteens bring in a bit of money to the local community and, bonus, you save petrol (I walk everywhere but you might have a car).</div></ol><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Next time: Food: Dining out in Honiara (road chicken, the Chinese noodle shop, fish heads, the Japanese, and the leaf huts...) </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-86252843966301932022011-08-15T20:33:00.000-07:002011-08-15T21:56:00.036-07:00Why your next holiday should be in the Solomon Islands<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Anyone who reads this blog can probably tell that I puffy heart love the Solomon Islands. So here is my shameless pitch to get you to come and visit these Happy Isles. Here are my top eight reasons why you should book your next holiday here; if you do, email me and I'll cook you dinner (valid until November 2011). Promise. Unless you are weird or creepy, in which case I will be in Temotu that week. Unless you are coming to Temotu, then I'll be in Makira. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Anyway, here is my list:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><ol><li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">The unexpected: Coming here to the Solomons has been like opening one of those crazy containers where paper snakes jump out at you and confetti flies everywhere. Its a whole bucket full of surprises. Traveling around here will certainly fulfill your interesting travel story quota for years to come. One thing you can rely on: travel delays. Mostly things kinda work here but expect to be stranded at least once. Hopefully you get stranded in Western, Makira or Temotu. But really everywhere is pretty special here. Enjoy the chaos and the gentle understanding that we really don't control anything. Sip a coconut and walk on the beach without worrying about catching that plane, sending that email or doing that thing you think you have to do. Chillax, you are on Solomon Island time now. </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Cool factor – Look around you. How many people do you actually know who have been to the Solomons? My guess is that number is pretty small. This is unchartered territory; while your mates are going to Europe, Fiji, New Zealand, Canada or the States, you will have one heck of a random stamp on your passport that says Solomon Islands. Cool factor immediately goes up. And its not as dangerous as Papau New Guinea...mostly. </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Fall off the map: Literally. Go to the Reef Islands in Temotu and experience life like it was 100 years ago, with no power, water supply or shops. Enjoy the sound of the waves gently crashing on the shore, not planes flying overhead. </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Wogasia-the spear festival in Santa Catalina is like nothing I have ever experienced. It was the craziest 48 hours of my life. Go there at the end of May but book first. A limited amount of people are allowed to go. Really, you should go. </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Helping locals. Wanna go to the Marriott here? The Hilton? The Holiday Inn? Forget it. We don't have five star hotels to make you feel like you never left home. Almost all our resorts are run by locals or by long term expats who know the islands. By coming here, you are padding the pockets of well deserving, hard working local people not rich shareholders in New York. These people care about their environment and will work hard to help you as much as they can. And, really, wouldn't you rather pay a bit extra for that? (By the way, you won't. Staying at local resorts is pretty affordable). </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">The ocean-I've lived in Hawaii. Hung out in Samoa. Swam in an atoll in Kiribati and I've never seen the sea life I have witnesses here. The water clarity is amazing. Yesterday, whilst snorkeling in Visale, I literally saw a fish waterfall. Its freakin amazing. If you are diver, say goodbye to wetsuits and dry suits. The water here is a constant 29 degrees, even at 20 metres down. So dive in your bikini. Or speedo (actually don't, no one should ever wear a speedo. Except David Duchovny in that X-Files episode. Wow.) </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">If you love the ocean and want to see dugongs, dolphins, turtles, sharks and amazing sea life, come here. Go to Tetepere or, if you are really adventurous, go to the Arnavon Islands, where there is a marine reserve. I hear its amazing. </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">The beach-You want a white sandy beach? We got it. And black sandy beaches, red beaches...really we got loads of beaches. You want an abandoned beach on a desert island with nothing but a few coconut trees? Check. We got you covered. For an easy fix, go to Nugu, the locally run resort with three bungalows and great food in Central province. Or go to Gizo, take a right and hit Kennedy Island. Go to Fat Boys for a Sol Brew afterwards and go for a snorkel under the bar. If you want to play Robison Crusoe and give society the big kiss off, the Solomons is on of the best places to do that. </div></li>
<li><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">The mountains-Its not all about beaches and the sea. Thats right, we got your cloud forests and your rats of unusually large size. We got stuff in the rainforests on Guadalcanal, Makira, Malaita, Isobel, Choiseul, Temotu and Western province that people haven't even seen. I saw what looked to be a black widow with red wings. Terrifying stuff. Seriously, we got cool stuff in the rainforests, so go for a bush walk.<br />
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Also there is some cool WW2 stuff here. If you want to jeeps in the jungle, covered in trees or dive a sunken Japanese submarine, then the Solomons is where you want to be. <br />
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</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Tips for travelers (aka how not to be an ass):</b></div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Now that I have undoubtedly convinced you to come here, I've put together some bits and pieces of sage wisdom I have picked up along the way. Don't feel bad if you have done one or a couple of these things, I've done them myself (and probably do some of these things still). What can I say? I'm an ass. Anyway, here we go:</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">1. Don't be an ass over money. That seems pretty self explanatory but let me explain what being an ass looks like. Being an ass means arguing over 10 solomon dollars (this is like a 1.50 aussie or n.z.) with your taxi driver, hotel manager, barman (or woman). Look, these people make very little in the year and a dollar isn't going to kill you. Deal with it.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">2. Don't be an ass over changing travel plans. Planes get canceled. Boats can't make it. Don't argue with your boat driver if he says its too rough. Trust the man, its too freakin rough even if it looks like a lake from where you are sitting. Don't go if it looks dangerous just because you have a schedule to meet. If it looks dangerous and the locals says its dangerous LISTEN TO THEM. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">3. Don't be an ass about power and air conditioning. Power gets cut off here all the time. That means no air conditioning. Guess what? You'll live. Yes you might sweat. Drink something. Go for a swim. Go lie under a tree. Deal with it.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">4. Don't be an ass by showing your ass. Girls, wear skirts or long pants. Don't wear short shorts or bikinis on the beach. This isn't Bondi or Brazil. People here are very conservatively dressed outside Honiara. Honour and respect that. Wear board shorts when you swim (despite that bikini diving comment I made earlier). Showing thigh here is very taboo so don't do it. Guys, wear whatever you like, I guess. Feel free to break out that “Will sell wife for beer” shirt you have been hiding in your closet. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">5. Don't be an ass about taking your malaria meds. If you are here a short time, then take them. Use some spray, you don't want to get malaria. But don't be too paranoid about it either. I've been here 10 months and still haven't had it.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">6. Don't be an ass about being afraid of crocodiles or sharks. Okay, guess what...there is a crocodile and a shark on the national emblem of the Solomon Islands. They are here. Be aware of them. Ask the locals about them but jump on into the water. You might want to stay away from areas with heaps of mangroves and river mouths but its mostly safe. Mostly. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">7. Don't be an ass about having to tok pidgin. Give a go, its easier than you think.</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">8. Don't be an ass about how basic the accommodation is. Guess what? When they say you are staying in a leaf hut, you are STAYING IN A LEAF HUT. Don't get pissy about the ants or rats in your house. There usually is no refrigerator, no television. But isn't that why you came to visit the Solomons? To get away from it all? Enjoy the basic living that is the Solomons.</div></li>
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</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">There endeth my pitch and words of wisdom on coming and visiting in the Solomon Islands. I think that if you come here, it will change you. It has changed me. Hopefully for the better. But, really, I'm still an ass. </div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">Cheerio,</div><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;">S</div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-55795621888219104452011-08-09T16:55:00.000-07:002011-08-09T20:30:53.363-07:00Happy Birthday Bloggie!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So Stilettos in the Solomons has turned one year old, without me actually noticing (I'll buy you a fur coat, blog! I promise!). So to mark the blog's birthday, I've come up with twelve lessons I've learned since I started this blog. Enjoy!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><ol><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Jump! Even if its scares the crap out of you. After reading some of my earlier entries, its pretty clear I was totally unprepared for the experiences that lay ahead. I'd never really traveled alone for an extended period of time and I had never lived in a developed country for a year. I think if someone had told me about some of the experiences I would have, I might not have left my little apartment in Christchurch. Which would have been stupid because its getting demolished due to the earthquakes. I guess what I am trying to say is I learned to take risks, to jump into the void with nothing below me, to enjoy that moment of pure freedom before the THUMP of hitting the ground. Sometimes the landings were smooth, sometimes...eh...not so much. But at least I could say I did it. I failed, I got hurt, things ended badly but at least I survived. And went on to new adventures. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Communicate, even if what you are saying is stupid or hurts someone. Look, I want people to like me just like everyone else. So I've glossed over uncomfortable facts and feelings to make peace. I've discovered that this does not work, you just have to have it out sometimes. Conflict can be good. And its better to make peace with someone than to hold grudges or stay angry. Its better for my health to just say it and be done with it. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Love your boat driver. In the Solomon Islands, the seas can be deadly. People get lost every year here. The boat drivers here are, as far as I am concerned, the best boat drivers in the world. They take amazing risks every day. So I love my boat driver. I plan to get a shirt made that says that.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Chilli tuna (taiyo) from Solomon Islands is the best stuff ever. I take it anytime I go out of Honiara and its a regular staple in my diet. Its a thing of beauty, I'm going to take a box of it when I leave. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Know who is in your corner and value the crap out of them. Look, not everybody likes me. I'm a strong personality, I have a big old mouth and I say and do stupid things all the time. But for some reason, people still love me. And I value them. So thanks guys for putting up with me.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Look around you. When I was going through some pretty rough stuff when I came back from Christchurch, I didn't want to see what was going on around me. But everywhere here, there is an opportunity to help others. At some point, you gotta look up and see the suffering and know that, even in a limited way you can help. Helping others is kind of a selfish act because it does make you feel good (well at least it makes me feel good) </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Play poker. Texas Holdem Poker is the best game ever created. I love it. Thank you, Solomon Island Poker Association.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Life is like a plate of fried fish heads...Sure, you got fried fish heads staring up at you. Its glossy big eyes and mouth can kind of gross a person out. But fish heads are delicious and everyone eats them here. Its kind of an initiation rite. To me it was about eating what people here eat, accepting their life and their food and being open to view life, at least in part, the way they do. I can never really walk in another person's shoes but I can eat the fish heads. That, at least, I can do.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">On a boat, always wear more sunscreen than you think you need, a hat, sun glasses, and always have your eperb and life jacket ready. Oh and bring an MP3 player. It helps.</div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Trust in a higher power. Cause its amazing I'm still alive. Thanks universe, God, Pele, Gaia, whatever, thank you for keeping me alive during that one time that I'm not supposed to tell my parents about. Ever. My dad has too many white hairs already... </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Let it go. Sure bad stuff has happened to each of us. We have all been heartbroken, disappointed and sad. But at some point, we just got to let it go or else it just gets ugly. Forgiveness is a beautiful thing; as a friend told me recently, forgiveness is saying that “I don't have the right to judge you.” And its true; we don't have the right to judge someone else's actions. We all want to be forgiven of wrongs we have perpetrated against others. So letting it go was one lesson I had to learn because until I did, I couldn't really move forward. I was stuck. Now I am not anymore. I forgave. I let go. </div></li>
<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Don't sit on public toilet seats. In the Solomons, you can get your ass bitten by fire ants and possibly land crabs. It is an unpleasant experience. Learn from my mistakes, people. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The above equals just some of the great lessons learned here in the Solomons and my travels around the world. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In three months, I will be done here and I know it will be bitter sweet. I am excited about moving to Wellington (whoops! Me and my big mouth...Ah well, I guess that was going to come out soon anyway) but I don't know if I will ever stop loving the beautiful ocean, mountains and people that are here. Coming here has changed my life and whilst the journey isn't over yet, I feel that already I have gained more than I have given. I am eternally grateful to this messed up little country, floating quietly in the warm south seas of the Pacific. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">All my love to wherever you are,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">S </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"></div></li>
</ol><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-17367305623191427152011-07-18T21:39:00.000-07:002011-07-18T21:39:21.632-07:00How Sara got her groove back...Part Two: Jump!<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:TrackMoves/> <w:TrackFormatting/> <w:DoNotShowRevisions/> <w:DoNotPrintRevisions/> <w:DoNotShowMarkup/> <w:DoNotShowComments/> <w:DoNotShowInsertionsAndDeletions/> <w:DoNotShowPropertyChanges/> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:DoNotPromoteQF/> <w:LidThemeOther>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:LidThemeAsian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:LidThemeComplexScript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> <w:SplitPgBreakAndParaMark/> <w:DontVertAlignCellWithSp/> <w:DontBreakConstrainedForcedTables/> <w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/> <w:Word11KerningPairs/> <w:CachedColBalance/> </w:Compatibility> <w:DoNotOptimizeForBrowser/> <m:mathPr> <m:mathFont m:val="Cambria Math"/> <m:brkBin m:val="before"/> <m:brkBinSub m:val="--"/> <m:smallFrac m:val="off"/> <m:dispDef/> <m:lMargin m:val="0"/> <m:rMargin m:val="0"/> <m:defJc m:val="centerGroup"/> <m:wrapIndent m:val="1440"/> <m:intLim m:val="subSup"/> <m:naryLim m:val="undOvr"/> </m:mathPr></w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" DefUnhideWhenUsed="true"
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</style> <![endif]--> <div class="Standard">The next day is a blur of food, snorkeling, hammocking and sleeping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the big things about Maravagi is the hope of swimming with manta rays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maravagi is parallel to another large island and the current between the two is strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nutrients from the sea are funneled in this tight spot and the mantas feed in this current.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Homer, Brianna and Alex chat with me and attempt to unravel the case of Sad Sara.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">Each friend has their own way of tackling the problem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alex strokes his long reddish beard whilst being the best 500 team member a girl could as for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Brianna takes the much more feminine approach, talking long walks with me and allowing me to vent.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">Homer however tackles this problem with action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">The jetty I so fearful gazed down on becomes first priority.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After lunch one day, he takes me out and<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>throws his snorkel and mask into the water and takes a running jump.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve never jumped off a pier or a jetty or whatever you call it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I stand looking at the clear water some two metres below me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I waver but I leap into nothing.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">I make impact loudly and without much grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus I screamed all the way down.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">Salt water splurts up my nose and stings my eyes.</div><div class="Standard"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard">“Homer, why do you make me do this stuff?”</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">“Because look at that smile on your face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Crikey, that’s good stuff!”</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">I hate Australians.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">Homer urges me to put my mask on immediately and I do so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The huge school of reef fish moves in odd shapes below me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The sandy bottom is clear of big reefs, except to the left and angles steeply down into the tropical blue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although life surrounds me I find it surprisingly calming to look out into the blue nothingness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I take on the observer role again, swimming between large rocks covered in coral.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A set of clown fish try to attack me as I threaten their home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I may be frightened of many things but I know I take Nemo.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">Again, I jump into the water, this time, instead of falling without grace, I shuffle a good three steps first<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>before I leap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Homer cheers me on and says he thinks I'm ready for the manta rays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My stomach drops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I can't stop now; there is a big smile on my face for the first time in weeks.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">One of the big things about Maravagi is the hope of swimming with manta rays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Maravagi is parallel to another large island and the current between the two is strong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nutrients from the sea are funneled in this tight spot and the mantas feed in this current.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">The idea is this: a boat takes you out in the middle of this channel and drops you off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You float in the sea until you get your full manta ray experience and the boat comes back to pick you up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounds wonderful…and absolutely terrifying.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">We plan to go in the afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m ready, I’ve got all my positive self talk in my head but it gets called off.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now I have a full 24 hours to sit and think about stuff.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find its better to jump and not have plenty of time to process things, now I'm stuck with time to kill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Probably time to go back to the reef.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">This time we go in the late afternoon as the sun is setting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The fish are completely different this time of day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The schools dart quickly and the lazy romantic setting changes to feeding time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone is on the look out for the bigger fish hunger for a bite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our friendly fish come out and nibble our feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I get the sense that this is not the best time to be swimming on the reef.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We head back quickly to the shallows and see a reef shark dart quickly out of it as we are coming in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">The night is filled with laughter, Solbrew and friendship.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I feel really supported by this little family of friends. Alex strokes his ginger beard and reads the back of Solomon Times, a classic novel about living in the Solomons, in a variety of accents (the Scottish one was particularly good) that have the rest of us in stitches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">The next day, another successful snorkel takes place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I get back to the lodge, I can’t hide anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The manta rays trip is on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first trip out on the boat nothing is spotted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friends hop overboard and hang off a rope like lures behind the boat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decide to wait until mantas a spotted to get out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The mantas are shy and we don’t see any. Everyone is disappointed but me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We head back to shore for lunch.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">The resort sends out a boat again in the afternoon with a stack of pikininis (children) piled on the front of the boat to spot the mantas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boat comes back quickly with the kids squealing in delight.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mantas have been spotted and the group scrabbles for snorkels and fins.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">We pile into the boat and get ready for some serious underwater action.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Wait, that sounded slightly dirty...oh well...anyway, we scoured the surface until we saw a big brown blobby shape under the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hear a splash behind me as the boat unloads its Australians.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wait till the end, looking for Homer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Homer promised to hold my hand during the swim (don't get excited Mom, Homer has a partner and one thousand children. It's a fact.)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">I flop out of the boat with the grace of one of those hippos from Disney's Fantasia without a tutu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here I am in the open ocean with no life vest...not even some floaties on my arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Great.</div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">I clutch onto Homer like a koala bear.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He pries me off on and grabs my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put on my mask and get my first look at the ocean below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing but blue.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">I curl up into a little ball trying to be as small as possible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I hold Homer's hand tighter than Kate Middleton's death grip on her father's hand when she walked down the aisle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Fish are swimming below me at speed, fighting against the current that is now pushing me into shore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm a bit relieved to be going to a place where I can see the bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the current whips up strongly and I can't see anything below me at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even a fish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">The current is so strong that even without any wind, white caps form at the top of the waves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">My breathing speeds up and I hope the monsters of the deep can't hear my heart racing out of my chest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is by far the deepest water I've ever been in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I relax after about five minutes but by that time we have missed the manta rays completely and are now being pushed far into shore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The boat swings round for another pick up and we all climb in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My entrance is by far less graceful than when I jump into the water with Will, a strapping Aussie lad hauling me up by the back of my board shorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">We turn around and start at the opening of the channel for another round of manta hunting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again I flop into the water, following Homer in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I put on the mask and gaze into the blue world below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Within two minutes, Homer squeezes my hand and points to the deep left in the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">There she is, gliding through the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her wing span must have bee two meters (six feet for you yanks) and her large eyes gaze up at us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For a moment she seems suspended in a place that has no current, no movement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then she picks up speed and is gone, ghosting past us into the deep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I exhale, not realising that I had been holding my breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">And that was it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That was all I got.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="Standard"><br />
</div><div class="Standard">It was spectacular.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3290141003866122504.post-46810316822967178172011-07-14T22:24:00.001-07:002011-07-14T22:24:54.259-07:00How Sara got her groove back...Part One<title></title> <style type="text/css">
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">(Note: I will not be writing about the rest of my trip to Makira. It was a taxing but enjoyable trip but afterwards, I came down with a serious case of writers' block. Here is my attempt to get my writing groove back and share with you my wonderfuly, happy trip to Maravagi).<br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After returning to Makira, I was happy to spend some good old relaxing around the house and enjoying myself. However, peace simply would not find me. One morning, Priscella, my newly acquired chicken from the Weathercoast, decided that the laying boxes just weren't comfortable enough for her. She walked up the stairs whilst I was talking via Skype (I heart skype) in N.Z. And quickly walked down the hallway.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Not wanting to cut the conversation off, I let her roam around, thinking nothing of it. After the Skype conversation ended, I tried to find her. Not in the bathroom, so that left only one other place. My bedroom. I look around and there she is...sitting on my bed...no, wait...she actually is laying an egg...on my bed.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I am present for a chicken birth on my bed...I'm stunned and react quickly to try and get her off my bed. I know this sounds ungrateful to the beautiful gift of yummy goodness that Priscella is about to give me but I just can't stomach the idea of a home chicken birth on my bed. I make my move towards her and she squawks, angry at being disturbed. Feathers fly EVERYWHERE. She jumps on my digital piano and plays “Chicken dance” on the keys. There is more squawking and more feathers until finally, I grab her and put her out the front door. But she isn't done.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She comes back in (stupidly, I left the kitchen door open) and hops up on the kitchen table. I run downstairs and leap for her. She flys onto the kitchen bench and runs around, almost lighting herself on fire on the kitchen stove because Tessa is making espresso.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I grab her and she squawks loudly. We talk it out and she agrees to lays eggs outside. Until she stops laying at all. Sigh...my chickens are on strike...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Some other stuff happens in Honiara and I realise that I'm sort of over it. I'm tired; I haven't had a nice, good break from Honiara that was pure relaxation since February. And believe me, sometimes you just need a break from this city. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So when a couple of friends suggest a weekend's trip away to Maravaggi, I jump at it. Now, I didn't enjoy Maravaggi when I did a fly by visit there in February. It seemed dusty and run down and the hosts seemed unfriendly. But I am a big believer in giving people and places and experiences another chance. Recently, I even agreed to return to the Weathercoast...but I digress.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I pack up my now thoroughly travel tested bags and make my way to the yacht club one dismal looking Thursday morning. The weather didn't look nice but I didn't care. I was going to relax and unwind whether I wanted to or not. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Look, I'll be honest. The past four months haven't been sunshine and kittens; I've been through some rough stuff, both personally and professionally. I'm not pointing fingers, most of it I did to myself, which is the worst kind of suffering. There has been a distinct lack of...fun and swagger in my life. I needed to get my groove back and fast because no one wants to hang out with the girl from Sad Town. I didn't want to hang out with the girl from Sad Town and its pretty bad when you don't even want to hang out with yourself.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So, it rained. A lot. I listened to my MP3 player (thank you Henry Binns and Black Keys) and enjoyed the nice swell. I tried not to be miserable. I tried to enjoy it. I didn't enjoy it. But I survived it, like so many experiences I have lately, the best I can say is that I survived it. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But I wanted to do more than survive something so when the boat came up to jetty at Maravagi, I jumped out of the back torture device/transportation tool and jumped into the warm water of the Solomon Sea. With all my clothes on. In the rain. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My friends, thinking I had gone mad, shrugged and followed me in. We stayed, chatted and instantly bonded more than before. It was like a baptism, a new commitment to be better and challenge myself to not just experience but to enjoy. I would say yes to everything, even the stuff I didn't want to do. I committed to myself to enjoy the dry, dusty, unwelcoming Maravagi.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And enjoy I did...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The day was rainy...so I took a nap. I found that while I wanted to enjoy everything, I was deeply tired. So instead of a one hour nap, I slept for four. I woke up just in time for dinner to be served. I always order fish in the Solomons because...well its what they do best. Pork is pretty fatty and well I just like fish. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The two little reef fish look up at me, fried on the plate. I eat them, heads and all. Now, I know that eating fish heads is not everyone's cup of tea but I made a promise to myself that I would learn how. A lovely fellow taught me back in November how to do it and I've been rocking on it ever since. This fish is tasty and the food nice and basic. The host is still pretty unfriendly but everything is clean and tidy.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My bungalow faces out towards the ocean. Its a lovely room with three beds (I guess just in case). The only minor drawback is that the bungalow is shared, with only the barest of walls between myself and another guest. The other guest, who will remain nameless, was pretty good about my typical 2 a.m. wakeup time and any other noises I make. I, in turn, yell over the barrier at night to “turn over” when he is snoring. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In the morning, I wake up early. Like 5:30 a.m. Early. I sit and watch the sunrise. I yoga. I write in my journal. I think really deep thoughts. I do all kinds of terribly healthy stuff. I get bored waiting for the friends to wake up.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I walk over to the jetty and look down. The jetty is about two metres above the water and I look in, admiring the crystal clear quality of the water. A large school of reef fish permanently swarm around the jetty. I wonder what it would be like to jump in. I've never jumped off a jetty before. I chicken out. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">To save a bit of cash, we self cater breakfast and then head off on our first snorkeling adventure. Maravagi is known for its beautiful reefs and my heart pounds slightly as I follow my mate Homer out of the shallows and to the edge of the reef. As we draw closer the reef takes on a much more multihued quality, leaving the brown and grays behind. Oranges, greens, and pinks come into view and brightly colour fish swim around in large schools. Little silver fish swim around me and when the sun hits the water, I fill like I entered an underwater disco.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And then, I spot it. The edge. Nothing but blue...and then...darkness. I look down and spot a reef shark hanging out below us. My first shark encounter. I marvel at how beautiful the animal is, perfect from 300 million years of evolution. The fish swim calmly around it; they know its not looking for a snack.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">We hang out, fighting against the different currents for about two hours. I swim past the shelf and into the blue, trying my best not be terrified. Look, us yanks don't always have the best relationships with water. The ocean is where Jaws comes from, and stingy things that killed Steve Irwin. The sea is not my friend, it is a place to be feared. And yet with my recent dive training, I've come to try and make peace with the sea. So I try to float, live in the moment and enjoy. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It works, partially and by the time I sit on the white sandy beach, I feel a slight movement of energy, a wee glow of happiness inside.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I feel the groove starting to come back... </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08311638368724121272noreply@blogger.com1