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!!

Mongolia-sheep herder visit

I have set foot in many countries, but I have never felt this way before. There is something about Mongolia, as you step off the plane and look around you at the mountainous yet abundantly open spaces, which makes you feel something deep inside, a kind of peace or gut feeling that this is a special place. It’s not a ‘wow I love this place, it’s so beautiful, I want to live here’ kind of thing. Its more of a profound yet mysterious satisfaction to have the privilege to be a silent witness to the great power of raw nature. To be in a place where time stands still, where eagles spend their days soaring under bright sun-touched clouds, and where urbanisation seems to have given up hope of finding a resting place- this is Mongolia. After two days out in the rural province of Zavhan, visiting project sites and seeing so many people who were once ultra poor, now have businesses up and running thank to loans from ADRA, I finally had a couple of hours to myself before the sun set. I had waited two days already to shower seeing the water only came out freezing, so waiting another couple of hours wouldn’t hurt while I took a walk over to the river nearby. Being thankful for the sun setting around 8 or 9pm, I wandered across the rocky excuse for a road and headed across the plain towards the mountains. The river was running and birds were splashing around in the side streams, so beautiful. In the distance I could see Gers- traditional round white dwelling places covered with animal skins and or other material. I read about how Mongolian people are very welcoming friendly people, and so I thought I would wander across the plains and just see what would happen. As I neared the first couple of Gers a few hundred metres apart, I saw some people outside the second Ger doing something. As I got closer, I saw the forms of two sheep with two men bending over them. Yes! I was right; they were preparing the sheep, and had only just killed them minutes before. Thinking that I had nothing to lose, I timidly walked towards them hoping not to be seen as an arrogant tourist with her camera. As I neared them, they all slowly stopped what they were doing and acknowledged me. I greeted the lady closest to me with my best rendition of “Sem be no” (hello). She smiled and nodded as I gestured whether or not I could take some photos of the slaughter. I had arrived just in time; an older man and younger one were starting to slit open the belly line of the sheep. They laughed at my curiosity at what to them was a common task, and I took lots of photos. Then I happily heard a voice behind me asking’ wher you fro? English! Yay! I could now communicate! I told the man in his late 20’s that I was from Australia. I was amazed at how easily the older man was stripping the sheep of its skin with his bare hands. In about 20 mins, the whole sheep was ‘done. I won’t explain how because it was pretty intense, I’ll let you watch my video clip of it. The whole family was involved, the young kids watching as their grandma emptied the intestines, the aunt emptied and washed the stomach, and while their grandpa scooped out the blood and insides into a big bowl. Nothing was wasted. The English speaking guy asked me if I wanted to try some yoghurt, and even though I knew the taste would be disturbing, I jumped at the opportunity to be welcomed into a Ger. As I stooped to go through the door which came only to my shoulders, I was delighted to see the Ger filled with old ladies, young babies sleeping and other family members, dressed in their traditional dress. The following day was the sister’s wedding, and I could see the ‘cake’ on the table. It was made up of a base of terraced bread stick/waffle kinda things with all different cheeses on top. Of course, the staple milk curd was on top. As I sat and interacted with all of the family holding babies and taking lots of photos, the guy made me some yogurt, goat milk yoghurt. I had a taste and it was as I expected, and could only handle two mouthfuls with a smiley ‘i'm trying to enjoy it’ face. I was then offered a nice little bottle with a cap and was told to sniff it. So I did. I asked why and they communicated that when you say hello and someone hands you a bottle, you open it and sniff it. I couldn’t put my finger on the aroma….minty yet floury. Who knows what it was. (i later found out it was a Snuff Bottle willed with powdered flavoured tobacco)Then I got handed a shot of Vodka, I laughed and gently gestured that I can’t drink alcohol, and they were cool with that. By this time, there ere around 15 people in the Ger which belonged to the grandfather who apparently is a famous herder in Mongolia. It was getting dark so reluctantly I said I must go home. The grand father grabbed my arm as I got up and gently pulled me in to kiss me on both cheeks. But it wasn’t a kiss, it was more of a planting lips on the cheek then sniffing quickly, so weird for the first time, then I realised it must be their way of kissing. Everyone “kissed’ me on my way out, and I ended up with wet cheeks anyway from an old lady who gave a sloppy kiss/sniff. As I walked away, the man told me to come visit them next time and to send him the photos. I walked the rest of the 20 mins back to my hotel grinning from ear to ear in gratefulness of the rich once in a lifetime experience that I had just had. Beautiful people, beautiful country. Other Experiences from my trip: -Riding a horse through the mountain lined plains/sandy dunes (i cantered for the first time! hadnt ridden for around 10 years...) -Being forced to drink fermented horse milk, potentially one of the most disturbing things that has passed my lips- was when i visted a household of one of the project beneficiaries, it was her wedding the day before... the milk tasted like off milk and yogurt, mixed with heaps of alcohol, and carbonated..... but the disturbing thing was it was just horse milk! -The cloest ive come to being mauled by a dog, ran inside a building and hid in the shadows while a lady threw herself in front of the dog (the dog's owner think)...funnily enough, i wasnt scared..more like.. wow, i almost died! haha - turbulence at its best..felt like a 4 yr old kid was holding onto the plane going "look how fast this plane goes mum, zoooom..up down up down ,rooooarrrr..." - longest ive ever gone without a shower of any form- living in a Ger for 4 days..no water supply at all! was actually not as bad as i thought... but still heaven to shower when i got back today - trying to milk a yak but it was looking at me the whole time knowing i didnt know what i was doing, and as i tried to grab its teat, it kicked me over and i spilt milk all over myself and everyone laughed at me. i would have laughed too... stupid yak -scenery like postcards in every direction, 24/7.....unbelievable so much more to say..... sorry i write so much all the time :)