plated hair and malaria

This is going to be a random blog - one which outlines some more of the random normal things that have happened lately. As I write, Laki is whining, so I whine back, trying to communicate to him to be quiet. I told him no one else is going to come to his pity party. But he doesn't seem to get the point!! He also doesn't understand the phrase "be quiet".

Anyway. A lot of the locals around here have been getting their hair plaited recently. It looks pretty sweet and I'm sure it's a lot cooler for them. They do it really quickly, which I was surprised at considering how curly their hair is! Anyway, Jair wanted to give it a go...

I think it looks pretty cool! So he sported that look for a few days, before it got fuzzy!

We went out for a day trip with Machi and a local Occupational Therapist to visit a school out in the bush. The road there was 4wd driving quality, so Jair was pretty stoked, sliding and skidding around in the ute on the mud. Thanks, once again, to the National Diaconnate Committee whose donation made it possible to help purchase a hardy Toyota Hilux!

Our mate Michael goes fishing as his favourite pastime, so he gave us a fish which we cooked. I've only dealt with fillets before so cooking a whole fish was news to me... But boy did it taste delicious!! I think I feel another episode of "Dinner at the Duinkerke's" coming up.

We had another crab visitor. While cooking the fish, I spied Laki sniffing curiously by the generator shed. He was checking out this whopping big crab (the other one disappeared... or maybe grew up). So I dutifully took a photo. No doubt someone would have found it by now and picked it up and cooked it and gobbled it up. Crab is a delicacy here!

I'd like to introduce you to two handy kitchen tools. That's right, the mortar and pestle, for crushing biscuits for my apricot fudge slice (mmmmm....). You can't really go wrong with a tomato sauce bottle (except for the hollow in the centre underneath - the crumbs kind of skirted inside and didn't get crumbed very quickly...) and the plastic container (from which rained out a large amount of crumbs). But the slice was good.

On Saturday, Jair took a roof panel off and replaced it with "plastic copper" - a sheet of corrugated clearlite. So now, we don't have a dark dismal lounge but a nice bright one. It rained on Sunday and the new roof piece didn't even leak. Good job Jair!

They even celebrate ANZAC day here, well, not with a public holiday. But a whole lot of Ausie and NZers (and interested Solomon Islanders) gather around the cenitaph for the dawn service. AUSAID funds the bacon and egg breakfast afterwards so we made sure we didn't miss out on that! First time we've had bacon for months!

After that, I felt awfully sick. I just thought it was because I was tired from the early morning for the dawn service. Achy. Fever. No appetite. Felt like spewing. Or fainting! Well, Monday morning I went to get my blood checked.... and I've got Malaria. Kevin shook my hand and said, "Congratulations! You're now officially a missionary here in the Solomon Islands!" ;)

Su'u: part tu'u

The second part of our adventures at Su'u at Easter weekend (which now, admittedly, was a long time ago) will take a different angle than our first. You see, there were alot of things we thought about and observed at SWIM, but then there was the actual experience of being thrown into the world outside Honiara, the capital of the Solomon Islands. So this is the story, how we felt it.

We woke up very early on Good Friday to go to the wharf and catch a ship. You must understand that it was only on the Tuesday that we actually firmly decided to go, so it was still all a bit new. We certainly didn't know quite what to expect. We did have breakfast, but it's hard to eat quantity at 4am! So anyway, we jumped on the ship (an ex NZ catamaran) and got to Su'u school at about 10:30am. When the whole group and all the materials for the tiling job had arrived, we had some "tea" with "biscuits". I learnt that biscuits are actually hard navy crackers, and to make them palatable, you've got to let them bathe in your tea so that you can bite and chew them. I think this is a fairly common Solomon Island breakfast. We were under the (wrong) impression that it was morning tea. Ahh, we had so much to learn...

Then the leader said, "well, we won't have time for lunch today; so we'll meet back at dinner." Well, this got me worried. I mean, what about afternoon tea? Let alone lunch! So we tried to eat as much 'biscuits" as we could and prepared ourselves for the long haul. That first day was quite hard. Not only was Su'u run down, nobody explained things like how to get water (it didn't come out of the tap - I don't think it occurred to them that this was new to us, that we come from a place where water always comes out of a tap), where to shower, go to the toilet, when food would be, how to shower, what to do. We thought there'd be tonnes of work and so I (Lauretta writing) felt bad for napping in the afternoon, but then, most people were...

Around "dinner time" we were starving, but we first had to do a play practice... but the women had already eaten. Well, in our western eyes it seemed so rude! Eventually we ate our dinner but there was no prayer, no sense of fellowship and being together while enjoying food. You just get your massive plate of rice and eat. It's part of Solomon Island culture that you eat at dinner and talk afterwards; but we realised our culture was different - dinner was a time when you talked and ate simultaneously!! So it opened our eyes to our culture and theirs.

After dinner eventually (everything takes a while), we went to the main dining hall, they had a bit of a Good Friday service with the students. Jair got an instant migraine because he was a bit dehydrated. The group we were with performed their easter play. More singing. More speeches. I started getting just a tad restless and tired! I mean, it was coming on 10:30 and the principal was still going full speed ahead! After it finished, we dragged our feet to bed and collapsed on our thin mattresses, looking up at the gigantic hole in the ceiling, hoping that the rats wouldn't come through in swarms, listening to the laughter and talking of the Solomon Islanders sharing the house with us.

Saturday didn't start much better. We were (rudely) awoken at 5:45am with the beating of the drum to tell the students to wake up. Well, after that there was a series of drums at different intervals. We didn't get out until 7ish and had our breakfast of "tea" and "biscuits". There weren't really any jobs for the women, apart from preparing food, but there were plenty of women. It all kind of came crashing in. We felt so out of place - everything was different. The eating patterns were different, the daily schedule was different - wake up early, nap in the afternoon, stay up late. Water and electricity were intermittent and you never quite knew when it would be on. Lunch and Dinner were always rice with noodles, taio (tuna) and slippery cabbage on top. Every meal was the same. Despite this being a country where fruit and vegies grow well, they didn't use that many fruit and vegies. So on Saturday morning, we were pretty lonely and culture shocked and sad and disappointed, missing our home and our people and our way of doing things. One lady said to me, "oh, you're probably finding this difficult, aren't you?" I couldn't have said it better.

I was almost hoping that a ship would be going back to the relative civilisation of Honiara!

But....

then we started talking to people, finding out about their lives, sharing ourselves with them, learning about their families, their experiences, their difficulties, appreciating their efforts. We spent more time with people, relaxing and working and we started appreciating them for who they are and their culture for what it is.

On Saturday morning, Jair was hard at work with the tiling and I went with a bunch of other youth to buy some chickens for the Saturday Feast that they do at Easter.

The chicken train...

So we went "wokabaot" to a village nearby. They instructed me that I was walking too fast; that I had to do the Solomon walk, slow, relaxed, gentle strolling. The scenery was so beautiful, walking close to the sea, through the jungle.

Five chickens soberly waiting in line to attain the same fate as the one at the back

In the afternoon I watched and talked to the women as they prepared the food in a motu. A motu is kind of like a hangi except that it's above ground. They light a fire and then let it die out a bit (I think) and then put rocks on it, then layers of banana leaf, then all the food, often wrapped in banana leaf, then they put another layer of banana leaf on top with bits of wood to hold it down. And it just cooks. In the end, when we ate it at the feast, it tasted great (although it can be a bit dry). The tables were laid with these dark red leaves. It was really quite festive.

Saturday night feast

Sunday we had two church services. It really poured down with rain while we were in there. We walked to the river on Sunday but it was too dirty to swim in because of the rain. Monday we played sports. Jair joined the boys playing soccor and I joined the girls playing netball. Many Solomon Islanders are short, so I had a bit of an advantage with my height.

Even netball is different here

Even the netball is different. No concrete court. We played on grass, with etchings of dirt to mark the boundaries! Before we went to Su'u everyone told us that the river was so nice to swim in, but every day so far it had rained so it was dirty. Well, on Monday, after netball, we went down and swum in the river. It was beautiful! Clean, fast flowing but still shallow. You swim against the current and it's like going on a breast stroke treadmill! In the late afternoon I went for another swim (and everyone said I was so strong, to be able to go for two swims a day... I still don't know what they meant...). The word "swim" in pijin usually means washing yourself (I wonder what people think we do at SWIM?!?), so I had two baths that day. I must say, there's nothing better than lathering yourself up, washing your hair and then sitting on a rock, leaning back and letting the water run over you. So refreshing. We had a "Solomon walk" back home as the sun set on the sea behind us.

Tuesday morning we were up even earlier than Friday - 3am this time. It was dark when we got to the wharf and I reveled in the still, calm night sky. Other people slept on the way over, but to me, what's the point in getting up at 3am and not staying awake to see the sun come up. It was just exhilarating. This photo only captures a slice of the beautiful colours rolling through the sky. I think this photo nicely finishes off our adventures - in the end, even in the middle, we had a great time. We may have had a bumpy start but we adjusted and learnt to appreciate these beautiful people of God!

This was worth waking up early for...

So Su'u

It's difficult to describe our experiences at Su'u school in just one short blog. What should we say? Do we talk about the purpose of the institute? The sobering message white missionaries can take from the history of Su'u? Do we write factually about what we did there? or how we felt when we were there? And how do we do all of this without boring you, our audience? I'm not at all sure, but I think I'll have to do this in two parts - part one: Su'u school.

Su'u school has been running for quite a few decades now. It is a Christian boarding school for boys and girls and is also a National Secondary School in the Solomon Islands (there aren't very many). It is near the coast on the island of Malaita. At the moment there are just under 300 students there but at its peak there were close to 700 (apparantly). Fees are comparatively high, so its privilege to attend as long as it is affordable for you.

Originally, there were many white teachers at Su'u who came over as missionaries to teach. It was founded by kiwis back in the 60s. Discipline was strong. The site was well managed. The "old boys" who were there in that time look back with fond memories. Among this group of early students are some important people in this nation - politicians, doctors, businessmen, university lecturers. Many people have gone through Su'u school and have gone on to make a big impact in their nation.

I think anyone would be saddened to see Su'u now, but this sadness must be acute for the people who spent their lives setting it up and those who first went through. We were sad to see the state of Su'u. Most of the buildings are dilapidated and decrepit. Many will certainly fall down in the next few years. The roofs are so dirty and rusty that people get sick drinking the rain water that is caught in rat infested gutters. The fields, once filled with cows, chickens, vegetables, fruit trees, now lie dormant, filled with grass so high you can't walk through.

The water system is lacking, with only running water 2-3 hours twice a day. Your can imagine the state of the bathrooms when the water hasn't been flowing for a few hours!

We managed to locate a reliable and clean flushing toilet at Su'u (I think this is a secret - it's only for staff but we snuck in and used it...). Horticulture at Su'u means trees growing in the gutter. Machinery breaks and is left to rust. Rats scurry through the houses and through the fields. The ablution blocks are septic - algae growing on whatever that liquid was on the ground. Squat toilets are overflowing. The wood is rotting on buildings that are still used. The chronic electrical system that has already claimed one life.

So this is Su'u. It's certainly sobering to think that at one stage it was a paradise, a hive of activity (they actually had bees and sold the honey as income), clean neat paths, maintained buildings, students involved in growing their own vegies. It certainly begs the question, how did it get like this? Why did it decline? How can we make sure that things we do as missionaries, ex-pats, don't fall to waste? I think the answers are long term answers. We're too young and inexperienced as missionaries to hazard good sound solutions. Then again, as someone once said, everything is bright at the beginning of the project. It's in the middle that most of life takes place and it's in the middle that it's the hardest.

So, Su'u is in the middle. In the middle of being after when it was established and whatever is in the future. What is being done in the middle?

Well, the old boy's association organises some projects, such as the purchase of the truck, or the building of the chapel (which is what we were involved in). The board, as ever, are working at improving things. Different short term mission teams come over at times to do small jobs. But it's hard to look at the place and do a small term job. Where do you start? How do you hold up the building that's falling down while you erect a new one?!

In a way, we're just keen to see what we can do to try get the tractor going so that they can cut the grass, plough the field and start growing their own vegies. The students aren't very healthy, living on rice, taio (tuna) and noodles but there is an enormous agricultural potential at Su'u. Huge untaped resources at their fingertips but they buy in 90% of their food. Aargh!

In fact, there's a lot of potential at Su'u in many avenues. But Su'u tells the story (at least we think it does) of people coming in, doing their bit and leaving. And then it's left to its own devices again. So Su'u cautions us to be wise in the way we give. Giving can hurt. You can't throw money at a problem and expect it to go away. What are the answers? We're not sure. We're only just finding out the questions.

a week in the life...

You may be wondering, what do we actually do day to day. You know the big picture. What about the small picture. Today we're going to endeavour to give you a very very brief day to day diary of the last week of our life.

Sunday: Went to a different church - Central South Seas Evangelical Church. Quite big, a thousand people or so. Very loud music. A sound system here seems to mean you turn it up to full capacity of sound! You don't just amplify you intensify. Left home at 8:50 came home about 12:10 so that was shorter than usual. Had iced coffee and cake. Relaxed, read books, played volleyball, dinner, read, sung a few hymns. Go to sleep.

Monday: First thing in the morning Jair went to town to get some prices for some parts. Lauretta prepared a staff devotion, organised some of the workers in the last minute preparations for a group that was coming, satisfied the demands of the leader of this group. Morning tea - staff meeting was a nice time with staff, sharing prayer needs, what was happening around the base. After morning tea, Lauretta headed off to the Hospital School (you wouldn't believe it. I think someone important has read my blog because the drive way was SMOOOOTH! A grader had been through to get rid of the ruts... I wonder if the same will happen with the education system...), met with a prospective new staff member, chaired a meeting in which we discussed this health unit we're all putting together. Got home, tired and hungry. Ate a quick lunch and got straight to work preparing for CBI the next day. Meanwhile, Jair had been working in the workshop. Had a good d&m with dinner (Lauretta's been working through the love dare). Pretty much went to bed afterwards.

Tuesday: Up and at 'em early to get ready for CBI. Lauretta organised work for our house girl (ahh, what a blessing!!). Left just after 8am. Signed in at the prison at 8:35 or so. First block, got in straight away (if we're late, we have to wait while they have a staff meeting). Got in the first wing, distributed and collected the lessons, chatted with the inmates. Jair had asked one of them to give a short devotion. It was a blessing to hear what he had prepared. All set to leave and go to the next wing but the officers were all in a meeting so they couldn't unlock the door to let us out. Jair was laxed, chatting happily, Lauretta couldn't help but try make eye contact through the window with the officers to let us out! just a tad nervous being locked in a prison wing with a whole lot of inmates... nice guys though :) After maybe 30 mins or more, someone

came to let us out. Next wing. Jair had a deep conversation with two muslims. Sometimes the muslims can be a big battle because I think they pressure the CBI students to not do their work. But today it was fine. We really pray hard for those muslims. Their influence is growing. Next wing, same same - it's a quieter wing. Prayed with them and shared a devotion. Then our road split. Jair went to another block while Lauretta went to the female wing. Surprised to find two women, rather than just one, as inmates in the female wing. The new woman was keen to join CBI so Lauretta went back to get an enrolement form, etc. After both of us had finished those wings, we went to the Long Term Unit. Same same. Nice talks with the guys. It was quite late already. Then we had to go to get all the material signed to take it out. A group of people were in the special signing place so we had to wait. Getting close to 12, were a bit afraid that we'd get caught in at lock down - when no one's allowed to come or go! Hungry as anything, hadn't

eaten since 7. Lauretta had a bit of a flu thing happening (go figure - it's 30+ degrees) so she felt terrible. Eventually the guy lets us in. Lauretta stamps the papers, Jair dates them, the officer signs them. Straight to the "gate lodge" to be let out again - 11:55. Went to the market to buy vegies for the workers. Went home, tired, hungry, sick, exhausted but exceedingly happy that the house was clean (and I didn't have to do it!). Ate. Jair went straight to work... Lauretta napped, then went to Bible study. She came back to find Jair had cooked a killer chicken pineapple pizza. He's becoming quite a gourmet chef (he cooks every Tuesday). After dinner, Lauretta checked on the guests at the transit house, had a good chat to them. Jair relaxed a bit. Early night.

Wednesday: Jair went over to SITAG (Solomon Islands Translation Advisory Group) to check on all their vehicles. He does it as part of his job, as they are fellow missionaries here. He was out all day, with one of the locals who he's kind of training up in all things cars. Lauretta decided to have an introverted day (she's an introvert... although you may not have guessed it). So she met with someone about taking over all the CBI work responsibilites, start doing the work, finally had a relaxed lunch hour, had a few d&ms. Did her pijin reading class with the local kids. Jair came home. Watched some plays put on by the group who stayed here - got an education into life here in the Solomons - what really happens! Cooked dinner. Ate dinner. Had fellowship night in the leaf hut. The singing is always so amazing! Played the guitar/read. Went to bed.

Thursday: After waking up and eating, Jair got to work repairing washing machines, a truck, odd mechanical jobs. Lauretta got to work finishing CBI work, doing typing work that was outstanding, organised people to clean up after the group that left. The house girl came, again (yay!... someone once said, "house work won't kill you but why take the chance" - pretty much my motto now. Besides, it gives her employment she wouldn't otherwise have and frees me up to do my other work.) Also baked some ANZAC biscuits but they didn't work out too well - faulty ingredients ;). After lunch, Lauretta taught the reading class again. Jair fixed her broken jandal under the threat of not getting afternoon tea... Thursday evening was relaxed.

Friday: Lauretta went to the bank - huge lines - to sort out some issues. Then went to the hospital school - caught up briefly with the teachers. Did some grocery shopping - what a nightmare. The last stop was the bulk store which was quiet when I first came in. Was inside quarter to twelve. Wanted to be back by twelve, so was already running late. Waited in line to get some self-raising flour and then all of a sudden, the one cashier line had like 10 people in it! So it was 20 past twelve by the time she walked out the door. Got home at 12:40, having picked up some kids who were walking home from school in the hot sun. Quickly put the vegies and cheese in the fridge, got lunch from the leaf kitchen as she was dying from hunger. Jair, who had been... left to visit Tetere prison farm to do CBI work there. We had a sport afternoon for all the staff at SWIM and Bethesda disability centre. That was a

lot of fun. A nice way to end the week. Had our non-alcoholic happy hour at 5. Karen, a lovely missionary who lives in a leaf house hear at the base, wanted to cut Lauretta's hair. Started snipping but found it was a lot more difficult than she first thought. Happily, one of the guests at the transit house cuts hair all the time, so she fixed up Karen's dodgy job. After the mop chop, we had dinner. We had some ausies stay over the night; they're in transit to another island. By the time we had washed the dishes, it was pretty much bedtime.

Saturday: Small sleep in. Lauretta made cinnamon banana pancakes for breakfast. Delicious! Entertained ausie guests, who left at about 11. Jair fixed some torches, did some work on an inverter, marshalled the troops (the guests at the transit house...) to do some digging, had a Saturday Special Iced Coffee with Kevin and Machi. Jair took the troops down for a quick rinse off in the sea. Lauretta typed (or rather is typing) the blog. After lunch, we're going to go to watch a soccer game, clean the church in the cool of the early evening and thus will end our week!

Sorry, there's only one photo of this week's advent

ures and that is one of Laki. We thought it was so funny. You see after playing sport on Friday afternoon, everyone was drinking cold coconuts (it is a tropical island after all...) and someone gave this half shell to Laki to eat. He loved it. I'd never seen a dog eating a coconut before, but then I guess, I'd never been in a country with a ready supply of coconuts either. It's not a very good photo cos the second I got closer, he picked up the coconut and ran off. He was so afraid that I'd try steal his coconut! So here it is. If you ever want to spoil your dog, forget the bone and give him a coconut shell!

SWIM Hospital School

Of all the places around where we live, it's the hospital that most reminds us that we live in a third world country. It's called "namba naen" as it was the number nine American field hospital in World War Two. You drive in, the ruts in the drive way are so big, you slow to a crawl and still lurch and totter as you make your way to the single line of cars which constitutes the car park. No parking meters here. In fact, very little has changed since the British left in the 70s.

So you tentatively park, making sure you haven't parked next to a mud puddle or a tent peg. They have this big tent outside the entrance, presumably as a waiting room of some sort. You walk up to the entrance, avoiding the red splatters of bettelnut, or blood, and walk up the ramp. Then there's this pharmacy area on your left, crowded with people waiting in line, and I think a waiting area on the right, even more crowded with people, some with drips, some lying down on a bench, some with bags of clothes and food. I guess they're the ones waiting to be admitted into a ward. Walking on through here, there's a long tiled, covered walkway which you need to walk on. When it's wet and rainy and you're wearing jandals (which you always wear here... oh that's right, "thongs" for you Ausies and "slipas" in pijin), you've got to be so careful that you don't slip because it's slippery in your slippers! And believe me, you wouldn't want to be admitted into the emergency ward... well, I wouldn't. When it's slippery, you dodge the tiles and walk on the bits where the tiles have broken away as that part isn't slippery.

As you're walking, you see that you're actually passing different areas. In patient clinic, hmmm, a few doors down they're cooking something (who knows what...) for lunch, ok, and there's the maternity ward with a number of people sitting outside. Then finally it's open now, and you can get a wiff of sea breeze (the sea is so close, I don't know how they cope in storms or a tsunami!!).

As you walk the pathway, you may see (as I did the other day) a patient, fresh from surgery, still knocked out with anethestic, with a sheet covering her being wheeled down the same pathway.

You look to the left and right as you walk this pathway and see the amputee ward, the orthopedic ward, the dental clinic, the pediatric ward. Going in the ward is another story, but you pass by today, unwilling to look at the crowded rooms with little light.

When a person goes to hospital, their family goes too. So in the wards, you'll have a patient on a bed, and their mum, brother, kids, whoever, sitting beside them, sleeping on the floor next to them. If they're from another island, which is very common, they've got a number of personal belongings surrounding them. But in an open room 6m by 12m (but my meter judging isn't the best...) you will find 12 beds, six line each side of the wall, for patients and then there is the family hanging about. So it's pretty squished.

Anyway, you keep walking, entirely skipping walking through the pediatric ward because you don't feel like looking at crying, helpless malnourished babies today. But just after the pediatric ward the path gives you the option of turning left, which you take. This path takes you to the midwifery area, but if you turn left, you see a fence, the ocean and the hospital school - a ray of sunshine in a miserable place. Well, people do get better in the hospital, so maybe it's not so miserable afterall. As you see from the picture, the Hospital School is a little school room, delightfully painted and built by SWIM teams. It doesn't have electricity or modern windows but it does the trick nicely (although, being close to the sea, it does get pretty wet in there when the sea is rough and the water sprays in).

So now that you're here, I'll tell you a bit about what happens here and what I do here (it's Lauretta writing here...). The hospital school has three teachers. Two of them go and teach the students in the pediatric and orthopedic wards, and the other one teaches the students who come into the school room. There are roughly between 1 and 6 students who are up to having tutoring in the wards and about 2-9 kids who come into the school room. The kids who come into the school room are usually the children of patients or patients who are doing fairly well, well enough to come to school.

School runs from about 8:45 (when the kids turn up) till about 12:15 with a short break for them to go and get a drink and go to the toilet back in the ward. They start with devotions and singing. It is absolutely delightful to hear their singing. When they know the songs, they sing with all their might. Parents peer in through the window from the pediatric ward next door to see whose making all the noise. Most of the songs have actions and some of them are little dances which they really enjoy. After that they do any number of different activities, depending on their ability and what the teacher has prepared. The other day when I was observing a teacher, she was doing maths with two boys. It was sad to see that they were both hungry, not having had any breakfast, and so they struggled to concentrate.

On top of that, the kids are all at a range of levels, some never having gone to school at all and some already able to do basic math. So it's certainly a challenge to teach there, but a delightful challenge - the teachers keep telling me that they love the kids they teach.

So I've come in, a fairly new teacher myself, and asked, well what can I do to help the teachers teach better. I'll be honest with you. The education system is, in my opinion, a miracle. I think it's a miracle that anyone comes out reasonably well educated. Teachers don't always turn up; they don't always have qualifications; they don't always teach lessons, much less prepare them.

So my main focus has been these three areas - meeting with the teachers regularly, developing very simple professional development (such as getting them to set and meet goals, having observations and mentoring) and helping them develop units to teach. In a sense, they're lucky because every three months at the most, they've got a different batch of kids (occasionally kids stay for longer or come and go).

So I'm trying to get them to the stage where they've got a couple of really sound units to teach (in different subject areas), they can teach children to read in their own language and they can do basic math (basic because of my abilities not theirs!! ;) I go there a couple days a week to meet with them, work with them and talk with them.

It's hard work with slow progress, but hearing those "pikinini" sing makes it all worth it!

Gecko Wars and Mould

Today's blog is going to be a random one. There's just numerous random things to pass on to you. Bear with me; I hope it enlightens you about day to day living in a hot, humid, wet country.

Ok, so firstly, mould. It's the rainy season so things get wet and damp for days. The problem that I've discovered is that if you're not careful, mould will just grow on something exceedingly quickly. Like, in three days a skirt could b

e covered with mould! And this is exactly what's been happening. I have to have daily mould checks on clothes, surfaces, bags - everything because I'm bound to find mould. It's really quite unappetising (not that I eat my clothes...) to

find your shirt covered in mould, or your shorts with a dusty green layer. I have one pencil case that seems to be a mould factory. I try to clean it every couple of days, but the mould comes back. I try to have this war on mould, but I think I'm losing ground!!

Next is gecko wars. Now I have this suspicion about gecko wars for a few reasons. Firstly, there are hardly any geckoes around... suspicious when they usually cover the walls. Secondly, there are a number of geckoes without tails... Thirdly, I saw some geckoes fighting the other day. Literally, one was trying to eat the other's head while the other was trying to hack away at its opponents legs. So, there's definitely some tribal gecko wars going on and the battle ground are the walls of my house. Charming. I'm just glad I haven't found any limbs. I think their cannibalistic tendencies kick in pretty quickly when they see a fellow gecko lying dead. There's plenty "siti blong gecko" (gecko poo) around the place...

Third random thing is ants. Ok, so ants are pretty normal. They come and go in my house without rhyme or simile, just whenever they like really. In NZ, I once had a big pile of sugar that was sitting outside (yes, I wasn't the most organised house wife) and I figured that that deterred them from coming inside because they had plenty of sugar to eat outside.

But here I don't need to worry about that because I have "Wonder Miraculous Insecticide Chalk". It's this random Asian chalk that you buy and it promises that "the insect's nervous system will fail to function' when it comes into contact with the chalk. The name of the chalk cracks me up. I felt a bit stupid when I asked for it in the shop. Who wants to go to a shop and ask for something as ridiculously titled as "Wonder Miraculous Insecticide Chalk".

Apparently it works. I have yet to see the positive results (I only applied the chalk this morning). I'm just afraid that I'll have a whole heap of dead ants on my kitchen bench. I hope they step on the chalk, and then go home and die there...

Oh, in scarier news, I almost forgot, I had a traumatic experience with my oven mit the other day. So, you see, I was roasting some vegies (which are so cheap and abundant here!!) and I got my hand into my oven mit to take out the roasting dish and I felt this rubbery bit of string thing in there and I thought, "halo, this is a bit odd..." I put my hand in further, still feeling this odd thing, and then quickly withdrew my hand. A small gecko quickly leaped out and ran for cover underneath the spice rack. Poor thing. It wouldn't move for a few minutes after that and when I poked it again, it quickly ran away over my coffee and spices to the window.

To be honest with you, I gave a small scream (no, I assure you, it was a small scream) when it came out. I don't know who was more traumatised, me or the gecko, probably the gecko. Needless to say, I give the oven mit a good shake out before I use it!!

wet soggy foundation

Well, we are in the rainy season after all, so it could hardly be a surprise. Rain tends to come in the rainy season here. And it comes in large quantities, we're finding. In fact, the average rainfall per year is 15 meters. Over the past few days we've had a lot of rainy, stormy, wintery weather. But we're still in shorts and tee-shirts cos it's still hot... go figure!
Now we do like a good thunder storm. There's nothing like the rumble to drive you further down into that blanket with a book, but with the heat, I hardly curl up here in the Solomon Islands when there's a thunder storm. The whole sky just seems to crash and boom and it shakes everything to the core. It's frightening as it just keeps going on and on. It's like having surround sound in your room as you hear the thunder rumbling along the heavens like an angry toddler giant who's throwing a tantrum. And when there's thunder, there comes a lot of rain and also a lot of wind.

So anyway, that's the weather for the last few days. Last week it was hot during the day, thundery in the evening and rainy at night. But now it's just rainy all the time. Not that we're complaining. It's nice as it's cooler. Ahh, mid-twenties, reach-for-your-hoodie kind of temperature.

The freakiest thing about the weather over the last few days is that a number of trees have fallen down. Last night at about six pm, a half of a big raintree split right down the centre and fell down on the fence, phone line and road. So the guys and some of the neighbours were busy quickly clearing it up. But then, during the night, the wind blew so hard, the ground was so soft and the middle of the tree was so rotten that the other half of this massive tree just fell down. We didn't hear the crash, but it must have been loud! We are very blessed that it didn't fall a different way as it would have landed right on top of a house. So, even though the tree came down, God kept us all safe last night.

So first thing this morning, I was out with the camera, taking some shots. It's a massive tree. Now that it's on the ground, we can get a better view of it. It's fascinating to see all the vines and branches intermingling. It's incredible to think that big thing can just come crashing down with a bit (or rather, a lot) of wind. I got our neighbour, Amanda, to stand in front so you could get some perspective of the size of the root system.

It was coincidental (or rather providential) that we'd already chosen to share a passage from Colossians with the inmates at the

prison today. It's from Colossians 2:6-7: "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in Him, rooted and built up in Him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." We shared with them this incident about the tree, that it was rotten in it's core and it's roots don't go down very deep. The wet soil also gave it a shaky foundation. If your life is built like this, on a wet, soggy foundation, with weak roots and sin that rots your soul, then it's no wonder when you fall in life when temptation and trials come. But if you are deeply rooted in Christ and in His word, then when trials come, He will hold you up so you will not fall. The inmates responded warmly to this vivid picture which we were able to explain to them.

I must say, I'm eyeing the trees by our house more suspiciously now. My fears were somewhat allayed when the security guard explained that the raintree by our house is evenly weighted and obviously has a strong core. Thankfully, the tree by our house appears to be more deeply rooted in the ground! But even more than that, we trust in God. He won't let the tree come crashing down if he doesn't want it to. That's our prayer tonight as the wind howls!