Tamana Island

A beautiful view of Tamana resting on the ocean’s surface several hundred feet below signaled the end of my four and a half hour journey.  This atoll was like no other I had seen before.  It wasn’t long, narrow, crescent shaped, with a lagoon in the middle.  Tamana was a small round piece of land in the middle of a deep blue sea. Coconut tree tops whizzed by as we touched down in the dusty field. I could make out Zenida, my new PCV island mate, waiting in a kiakia with a group of women as we taxied toward the brick building where many people were waiting.   Zenida and a bunch of people made their way to the plane as our propellers slowed. 

Tamana Island 1

Welcome to Tamana Mike!” Zenida was leading a group of women behind her.  “I want to introduce you to Elena, your head teacher at the primary school.”  Elena, was a short older lady with one of the biggest smiles I had ever seen.  “Mauri Mike! How was your flight?”  “Surprisingly long, and I am so glad to finally be here,” I responded.  “Yes I know it is a long flight since we are one of the furthest islands from Tarawa.  We are very excited to have though!  Do you have any bags?” “A few,” I said knowing full well that half of the luggage on the plane was mine.  “We have many people here to help bring your things to your house,” she explained pointing to a truck full of women and children parked by the brick building.  “Let me introduce you to the other teachers.”  As I was being introduced to all of them, a team of men were loading all of my bags onto the truck. 

The island’s climate was much different from what I had become accustomed to in the northern islands. The air was dry, the land was dusty, and the grass was brown.  Following tradition, we drove around the entire island three times to familiarize myself with the island and introduce myself to the spirits.  The island had three villages.  The northern was Bakarawa, the central Bakaakaa, and southern Barebuka.  Ten village groups existed within these three villages.  They frequently had social events in group canoe houses.  Though villages covered the island from north to south, all facets of northern and southern village social life (houses, maneabas, stores, offices, canoe houses, and the church) existed only on the western side of the island.  Bush land, where family burial plots and spirits resided occupied the eastern side of the island.  The center village, where the government station was located, spanned the entire width of the entire island.

After 3 trips around the island, we pulled into Bakaakaa, the central village.  Pointing down the road, Zenida said, “I live right over there.” As we pulled into the school compound, I could easily see her clinic from my house.  My attention quickly turned to the large locally constructed home with concrete shingles on its roof in front of us when the truck came to a complete stop. 

A young man who looked my age was waiting on the steps of my new house with a baby in his arms.  “That’s Meekei, my husband,” said Matty, one of the teachers, as she jumped off to take the child from his arms.  Meekei then came over and grabbed some bags.  “Follow me, I’ll show you your home.”  Jumping off the truck with bags in hand, I followed him up the steps to the split-level house.  He opened the door to an enclosed porch, and a bedroom complete with built in shelving.  Down the narrow hall was a large living room and stairs leading down to the kitchen, bathroom and indoor well pump!  I felt like I had won a housing lottery.  Once familiarized with the house, we headed back to the truck to bring more bags and buckets into the house. 

When finished, he said, “You must be hungry after traveling so many hours.  We have prepared some foods for a welcome lunch with all of the teachers and their families.”  He brought me to the school’s maneaba where all of the other teachers, and Zenida were.  Everyone tried to speak English if I was not able to understand.  For those who could not, Elena was more than willing to translate. I felt so welcomed and very thankful to have another Peace Corps with me!  I felt so fortunate to have everyone there!  I sat by Meekei’s family during the lunch and got to know them a bit more.  He was four years older than I, and had a one year old child, Nash.  Both not completely proficient in either one’s language, we chatted in Kiribati and English. Nash, and I became quick friends.  After only a short time he was crawling all over me, and seemed to be amazed with my hairy legs.  Most I-Kiribati lacked any kind of visible body hair.  There were a handful of other children darting in and out of the maneaba, noticing my interactions with Nash.  They made brief eye contact with me before rushing into the arms of their older siblings or parents.  Eventually, some made their way up to me and also began petting my arms and legs.  I succumbed to letting whoever was brave enough to approach, stare, and pet me.  To everyone’s amusement, I was covered with little ones by the end of the welcome lunch.

1: Photo Credit Jane Resture - http://www.janeresture.com/tamana/

Kentucky Fried Chicken and Pizza Hut in Tarawa!

Flying back to Tarawa after only a week at site was strange.  Though I appreciated having the opportunity to get more supplies and food for site, I felt mixed about leaving my new village behind.  Tateta seemed like a good place, and I really liked my new co-workers.  However, as it was stated, we needed to vacate the island for the good of all volunteers. 

The four of us spent the first few days taking care of each other, contacting our families back home, and getting those last minute materials that we weren’t able to get before we left.  After the first few days, all of us began to get a bit wrestles.  I decided to visit the Ministry of Education to see if I could be of any use to the Ministry while I waited on Tarawa.  

The only time I visited the Ministry was when Peace Corps took us.  We met a lot of people who were very excited to have us working in the country.  Therefore it only made sense to go to them and see if I could be of any assistance while I waited in Tarawa.  I took a bus to Bairiki, and got off where I thought I needed to.  Unfortunately, I missed my target by more than a mile.  It was extremely hot and I was walking with a backpack.  Thinking that I was close to the offices, I decided not to jump on another bus.  Well, I was nowhere near the offices, and when I finally arrived I was drenched in sweat.   

“Hello!  Do you want some water?” a voice shouted from behind the counter.

“No thank you, I’m fine.”  I explained my situation, and what I was looking for. 

The voice behind the counter responded, “Please have a seat, and I will go tell Regina you are here.”

It was only a few minutes before Regina, the director of the Tarawa Educational Resource Center, came out to greet me. 

“Mauri Tem Mike, you look like you could use a rest, why don’t you sit down in my office and we can talk about how can I help you?” 

She was not aware of the circumstances which brought me back to Tarawa for an unknown amount of time, but was happy to help me find something to work on while there.  We talked about the bilingual books I had developed with my brother in Maiana, and before I knew it, I was exploring curriculum resource development center with her.  It was busy with people working on many different tasks.  Some were making posters, others were proofreading texts, and even others were developing national curriculum modules. 

At the end of my first week in the center, Regina invited me over to her house. 

“Why don’t you come to my house, and we will have dinner with my whole family,” she said with the biggest of smiles.

Missing the comforts of a host family, I literally jumped inside and immediately said, “Yes!”

“Take the bus to the Australian High Commission.  We are right across the street from them in a small white house. We will be ready for you around 6, is that ok?” 

I thanked her for the invitation, and left the center early that evening so I could go back to the dorm and shower.  When I arrived at her house, it was like nothing I had ever seen in Kiribati before.  It had a full kitchen, complete with a refrigerator and stove.  The house had multiple bedrooms and a bathroom with a working toilet and shower.  Most shocking of all, the living room had a television and a DVD player.  It almost felt like I was back in the United States.  However none of these things impressed me as much as the dinner did that night. 

“We call this KFC!  You know…oh what is it? Kentucky Fried Chicken, no?”  Regina said laughing. My eyes widened watching her niece walk by with endless trays of chicken and cold Cokes.  After the blessing of the food, I was called upon to open the table. 

“OK Mike, stick your spoon in the food you want to try first and we will all shout “Tekeraoi!” After this, the food will be open to everyone.”

Not wanting to waste any time, I stuck my spoon in one of the trays of chicken, and everyone shouted, “TEKERAOI!” and I opened the table and grabbed one piece of chicken and a large spoonful of rice.  To her dismay, Regina said “Oh that is all? Please take more!” I resigned to my seat so others could have food first, but made sure to go back for more when I was finished so as to show my appreciation for the amazing food. 

At some point during the meal, Regina told me about a restaurant in Fiji called Pizza Hut, and asked me if I knew how to make pizza.  I told her that I had been making pizza in the dorm for the past week and had all of the ingredients in our dorm.  The only things I needed were an oven, and willing hands to help make the pies.

Hearing this, Regina said, “Do you think you can come over tomorrow and teach us how to make pizza? My niece will help you.”

I was back at her house the following night making pizzas with Sarah.  She was two years younger than I, and had one of the most interesting life stories I had heard on the island.  She had fair skin, an I-Matang name, and was virtually fluent in the English language.  It was her last year of senior secondary school and she was going to start university in Fiji the following school year.  As we conversed in English, time seemed to fly by as we made pizzas for the family that night.

Soon, all of her little cousins came into the kitchen to watch us.  Some joined us and helped to put toppings on the pies.  Eventually we ran out of ingredients and had to go to the market to get more flour and cheese.  The oven that was in the kitchen worked, but it was very small, so Sarah's mom went next door to see if we could use their neighbor’s larger oven in exchange for a few of the pizzas.  Since I felt pizza was best served with a cold Coke, I splurged on Coke for the whole family that night.  That night brought me closer to Regina’s family, and made me feel as though I gained another family in Tarawa.

 

Amazing new family members!

Two days after the pizza dinner, John and I made the decision to relocate to another island.  Tamana was the smallest, and one of the most remote islands in the Gilbert Chain.  I was excited about the new assignment, but at the same time, nervous and sad to leave my new Tarawa family.  I planned to visit them each time I was back in the main island.