Crocodiles and Butterflies (Solomon Islands)

It's funny how our minds work. My equation to explain it is this: active imagination + slight possibility= worse case scenario. If you are around children with headlice, isn't it funny how your head starts to get really itchy and you swear that you have contracted headlice, but you never really get any. You hear the rumour (however realistic it is) about how 1 in 3 people have worms, and then you suddenly feel something moving inside your stomach. Plus looking at the two people either side of you and wondering which of you is more likely to have worms. or when it's your first time to visit a place which has the occasional crocodile spotting and so while snorkelling in the beautiful multicouloured-fish-filled waters of the Western Solomon Islands, every direction you are not looking, you can just sense a 6-foot dark yellow-eyed salt water croc watching your every move, carefully observing which legs looks nicest to grab! But then, now is always the best time to tell yourself to get over it. Sitting about 5 metres from the ocean waves noisily throwing themselves onto the small measure of beach left at high tide, sitting in an old wooden chair in a hut-style rotunda in an eco-lodge in Ramata. I have plenty of time on my hands to relax and put my feet up after a busy day and recall my recent thoughts, which may I say are many as I have had alot of alone time lately (seems to happen alot here, I love it!) which is usually a catalyst for deep, profound and inspiring thoughts from the mind of Charlene. One image I just can't seem to push from my mind is one which I see sometimes while sitting on the bow of the boat, hugging the rim with my knees to stop myself from plunging into the warm water in rough conditions, sitting for hours on end while the 25 horsepower engine whines in the background as we plod our way to the next destination to meet with women from the Marovo Women's Association. More women's groups, more monitoring, more businesses to visit. While going along slowly, dodging rocks and coral which is sticking up too high for the propeller's liking, I never tire from looking down into the crystal clear water, amazed that at even 4 or 5 metres of water I can see every fish going about his or her daily schedule, annoyed at being rudely interrupted, but still showing its beautiful colours, probably totally unaware at how amazingly stunning it looks! But what impresses me most are the butterflies. not because they are beautiful or graciously gentle, but for their utterly incomprehensible will power and commitment to never give up. As we are speeding along I see many of them, sometimes battling against strong wind and relentless rain, in the middle of the lagoon, with a kilometre or so to the next island or land mass. How in the world do they do it? I am sure some of them fly so hard and so long and are in close range of their destination, only to be tragically blown half-way back by a strong ocean wind- but they keep on flying...as if nothing can beat them down, with a 'never settle for less' attitude that inspires me. and today, I saw a small one, a young one, and i thought to myself, what a great example to me of how I should live my life. Never letting being young stop me from doing anything. making sure that what is at the end of my journey, has been well worth it. I wonder why such a small butterfly would leave the comforts of its home and everything that is familiar, and go out across the ocean, to fight wind, rain, bird, boat or whatever its challenges are- all to get to the other side. I don't know if that butterfly made it to its destination. I sure hope it did because it deserved it. but all I know is that sometimes God calls us to be like that small butterfly- to leave our comforts behind and go, but unlike the butterfly, at least we know that our destination is worth it. What an example of never giving up. But I think it's time for me to give up writing now, because I have been bitten twice now by fire ants crawling up my chair and on to the table. they are so small I wonder how is it physically possible for them to bit me and yet a daddy-long-legs spider can't. So I will just sit here and stare at the ocean, in the vain hope that I will see a whale or dolphins cruising by. waiting for the cassava, tai-yo, coconut milk and mushroom and capsicum soup and rice to digest so I can hit my mosquito net shrouded bed, and hopefully get a full night's sleep, uninterrupted by my active imagination + slight possibility=worstcase scenario's involving bed bugs and malaria-carrying mosquitoes. Oh I love my job! Now I clearly understand why they call them FIRE ants!! ouch!!