Kiribati Bound

By the time we arrived in San Francisco, Katie and I had gone from a state of loss and anxiety to a state of wonder and purpose.  We spent two days in San Francisco for our pre-departure staging. There, we filled out more paperwork and bonded with other volunteers over teambuilding activities and brief outings.  Since we were the 27th group of volunteers to serve in Kiribati, we were known as K-27.  The following day after we checked out of our rooms, the Peace Corps staff gathered us and distributed travel per diem, boarding passes, and luggage identifiers.  Once all was set, they whisked us off to San Francisco International airport.

The shortest route from the United States to Kiribati was through Fiji.  At the time, the U.S. government saw Fiji as an unsafe stop since the country had recently lost its elected leadership to a military coup.  Because of this, our travel to the country ended up being over 13,000 miles.  My route, from the start, included Cincinnati, San Francisco, Sydney, Brisbane, Yaren and finally Tarawa.

Our fourteen-hour plane trip to Sydney was scheduled on the eve of my 21st birthday.  Traveling to Australia required us to cross the international dateline, meaning my birthday, that year, did not exist. As far as I'm concerned, I'm still 20 years old. Despite the time change, I wished myself a memorable happy birthday as the inflight clock switched from November 5th to November 7th.  When we landed in Australia, the pilot announced K-27's presence on-board and thanked us for our service.  Hearing this, passengers applauded and wished us well as we disembarked the plane.

With every stop, we boarded on smaller planes, and landed on smaller pieces of land.  I began to worry about the stability of the planes the further we progressed into the Pacific. Still, I tried reassuring myself that the American government had our best interest and safety in mind when rerouting us this way.

First glimpse of Tarawa, Kiribati

As we approached our final destination, I peeked out of the window to see a tiny strip of land with endless dark blue water on one side and clear blue water on the other.  The aqua, green and crystal blue colors blended in the most amazing ways.  I could see the tiny runway below as our plane turned to make an approach. Leery of how our plane could land on what I was seeing below, I pressed my nose to the window and prayed for a safe landing.  Coconut treetops zoomed past my eyes, the runway became much larger, and within seconds the plane's landing gears made contact with the asphalt.  As the plane taxied, I saw rows of brown skinned people with bright white smiles lining the runway.  Groups of men, women and children sat on the sides of the runway watching the plane as it pulled into the unloading area.

When the plane's seatbelt sign turned off, the cabin swelled with excitement!  Kiribati females combed their long dark hair and sprayed ample amounts of perfume all over their bodies.  Since all of us had gone without bathing for an extended period of time, we appreciated any amount of spray that came our way.  The Kiribati passengers exited first since most of us were gathering our overstuffed carry-ons and preparing our cameras for the first pictures of Kiribati.

A fellow volunteer yelled, “WELCOME HOME EVERYONE!”; I had no idea how much of a home Kiribati would actually become.

K-27's first official picture