January 30th, 2020 – Port-Vila

Made it to Port-Vila! Left Auckland after an all-too-brief catch-up with a friend at Villa Maria wine estate, hopped aboard the Air Vanuatu plane (which was labelled Air Nauru to confuse muggins like me) and made my way through a beautiful sunset to Vanuatu.

I didn’t get a chance to take a photo of the beautiful sunset, but I did make sure I got a shot of the beer I drank on-board.

Arrived pretty late in the evening, but the VSA Programme Managers, Trevor and Brigitte, were there to greet me with big smiles. I had bought gifts of chocolate for Brigitte and Mrs Balls for Trevor (he’s from South Africa), which were well received. They took me to the motel, and after a brief chat we retired for the evening.

The following morning, I was able to see the motel in all its luxury.

After a decent breakfast, Trevor came and outlined the plan for the day. I’d heard so much about his “playing in the field of the Lord” talk in Wellington, and managed to get it out of him over coffee.

Then Trevor, Brigitte and I walked down the road to get me a booster Hep B vaccination. Both my doctor in Cotignac and the doctor here in Vanuatu thought my chances of contracting Hep B in Vanuatu weren’t high enough to warrant vaccination, but the VSA medical officer disagreed and given she’s the one who has to answer to the insurers, I’m happy to go along with it!

Brigitte (born and bred in Port-Vila) then took us on a tour of the town. Nice spot, especially the waterfront overlooking some sensationally blue sea. I was most interested in the food market, which had tropical fruit and veg in abundance. Biggest avocados I’ve ever seen, selling for 50 vatu each. Bad news for H is it’s the tail end of the mango season, though, so there won’t be any left when he comes to visit in April.

Then after lunch we walked up the hill to the Vanuatu museum. As museums go, it needs a guide to make sense of it, and fortunately we were shown round by Edgar, who also showed off the Vanuatu custom of “Sandroing”, which involves storytelling while drawing a geometric design in the sand. The story and the designs are bound by tradition, though, and shouldn’t be changed. It’s a special experience to witness, as it is clearly ancient, practiced and passed down from one generation to the next, although a bit difficult for an outsider like me to make head-or-tail of.

Now I’m back at the motel resting before a dinner with some other volunteers, followed by a fire show, whatever that may be. Internet access is patchy, so I hope I’m able to publish this today. If not, I’ll publish when access improves.