Slippery cabbage, soft rock and slidey slippers

As I wait in line to top up credit onto my phone, a familiar sound enters my consciousness. It's the nonchalant meandering of slippered feet across the tiled floor of the "Our Telekom" shop. Everyone wears flip flops in Solomon Islands, referred to as slippers, and they make a swishy sortof sound as people casually stroll about...to the counter where they take a small piece of recycled paper on which to write their details, then cruising wistfully past the cabinet with the new smart phones in it, stopping to greet an acquaintance or two and then proceeding to the end of the queue. I realise I'm going to miss that swishy, slidey sound.

Given that this was my last trip to Solomon Islands, at least for a while, I was taking time to savour those sights, sounds and taste sensations that make a place unique. I tried cassava in coconut milk again the other night, because an Australian colleague was raving about it, but, this only served to confirm that I really don't like it. The taste is too bland and the texture too starchy for me. But there are taste sensations that I have enjoyed and will definitely miss. I like slippery cabbage (or ferns, yep like the ferns you would encounter on a bushwalk in rainforest conditions) cooked in coconut milk, which is sweet and green and delicious. I also got used to banana pancakes at the Lime Lounge, and omelette a la 2 minute noodles, a staple lunchtime meal at Red Cross cafe in Chinatown.

Banana pancakes

This visit, my colleagues had organised for us to hold our staff reflection workshop out of town at one of the community learning centres where we work. I like visiting communities. Apart from seeing what is actually happening on the ground, its also a bit like camping. You take a head torch on the midnight toilet visit, bathe in the sea or river, and tell stories into the evening. At our workshop evaluation, a few people said it was the best workshop ever, so that was a great note to end on.

Relaxing in between sessions

For my farewell, a few friends and colleagues kindly accompanied me for dinner and dancing in town. I think the Solomons might just be the only place where my preference for soft rock is shared by those who in every other respect are way cooler than me. We grooved the night away to the sounds of Elton John, Barry Manilow, Elvis Presley, Billy Joel and some pacific island artists that I was less familiar with. I also learnt a new phrase in pidgin - "fillim up buckets", which I think would loosely translate to "crying a river", used to describe what happened when we thought of no longer seeing one another every three months or so.

Farewell at Iron Bottom Sound Hotel

But eventually the evening came to an end, and the next day it was time for my flight home. The goodbye entourage was there to see me off at the airport amid hugs and smiles. Fond farewells were slightly marred by the discovery that Solomon Airlines had changed the time of the flight and was taking no responsibility for onward connections. This risk was made clear to me during my handover 3.5 years ago, and had never eventuated until now. Having carefully planned a 90 minute connection in Brisbane, I was now left with 30 minutes in which to proceed through immigration, baggage, customs, transit to domestic, go through security and board the flight. Not being one to give up, I "mentioned" the issue repeatedly to the flight attendants until they upgraded me to Business class for landing and then I raced like I've never raced before. It turns out that particular connection can't be done in 30 minutes. 45 maybe. I have to say Virgin was very good about rescheduling me onto a later flight at no extra cost, and so all was well that ended well.

Solomon Islands sunset

I know I will look back on these years of Solomons travel with fondness and nostalgia. There were many difficult meetings, sleepless nights and challenging situations, but also times when I have never laughed so hard, and moments of immense pride and gratitude. I know that the APHEDA staff and the communities they work with are incredibly inspiring and dedicated people. I look forward to seeing where their careers and life journeys take them, and hope our paths cross again in the future. Lukum iu fella moa.

Power and lightbulb moments

With it being International Women's Day the other day, I have been thinking about the power some have over others. I was struck by the message that in NSW, domestic violence is still the most common case that police respond to, and that half of all cases go unreported. It was suggested that there are more than 700 instances of domestic violence occuring in NSW every day. It's clear to me that there is still so much to be done in Australia to close the gap in opportunity, power and safety between men and women, yet many people in Australia believe that all the battles have already been fought, and that there is nothing a woman can't do, if she would just stop complaining and get on with it.

Then, across the Pacific ocean, I find myself on the opposite end of the power spectrum. As a white woman I am constantly aware of my own power and privilege. In Solomon Islands I represent those who have greater access to money, safety and decision making ability. This was made even more startlingly clear to me this past week when my Solomon Islands colleagues were invited to share about some of the power inequalities that they experience in a cross-cultural group. For the first time in five years, the "elephant in the room" was being discussed. They explained how it felt that decisions were already made before the meeting had started, how they felt inferior and unable to contribute anything worthwhile, and how some more powerful people would interrupt, talk over and generally not seem to value the "Solomon voice".

Suddenly, I saw that lightbulb moment happen for the most powerful people in the room. Instead of insistently denying any suggestion that interactions within our cross-cultural group were not 100% rosy, as had been the reaction in the past, there was genuine listening, and they began to understand. We agreed upon some ways to change the power dynamic a little - discussing more complex issues in smaller groups before sharing with the wider group, allowing a moment of silent reflection before rushing in with our thoughts, and taking a secret ballot to find out how people actually feel about the level of power that they hold in the group. As a result, the mood in the group really improved for the better.

In the taxi later on my Solomon colleagues and I were discussing this turn of events. We couldn't believe how much things had changed. Then one of my colleagues summed it up: "I just realised that she didn't realise what she was doing". What we had assumed was deliberate we began to realise was not. Some just hadn't realised the extent of their power. It was our own lightbulb moment.

So, as I think about the men in my life, I realise that some of them probably just don't realise either. Of course, my friends range from those men who would describe themselves as feminists and "get it", to those who can't understand why you'd need a women's only space, and all those in between who benefit in many little ways from the position of power that they hold.

As I listened to my Sols colleagues share their discomfort, I could relate. I sometimes feel that my views are unimportant and that decisions are already made by others with more power. And I wonder how I can learn from my Solomon Islands colleagues about how can I share my experience with those in more powerful positions than me in a way that allows that realisation, and enables them to be part of the solution rather than feeling like the problem?

The gender mind bender

Last week the Solomon Islands Province of Malaita elected a woman into the National Parliament. She's the second woman ever in the country to be elected nationally. Now, the interesting thing about this is that Malaita is one of the patrilineal provinces (meaning that when a couple marries it is the woman who moves to the man's place) and has a reputation for being very strong in Kastom (custom) and quite patriarchal in thinking. Other provinces like Isabel and Makira are matrilineal.

So, on the one hand, people are a little surprised that Malaita should lead the way on female representation in parliament. On the other, there is talk of Vika Lusibaea only being elected because of her husband, who was very popular in the region but banned from politics due to his involvement in war crimes. She promised to continue her husband's agenda. I heard that some felt that since democratic elections are a western imposition and not Kastom, so why not go the whole hog and elect a woman!

As these issues play out on the national stage, we grapple with gender and power dynamics at the village and organisational levels. One of the challenges of the project I am involved in is to promote gender equity in the communities that we work with. For us, it also means thinking about enabling real participation of women in decision making, and making spaces for people to talk about gender roles and how men and women are sharing workloads and decision making power in the home and modelling both male and female leadership at the organisational level. It's also about taking a tough stand on gender based violence.

However, I am finding that it's wise not to make assumptions or quick judgements. The only man in Solomon Islands to be considered a gender expert is our beloved Grayham, who comes from Malaita. And it's the men from Makira who are currently not happy with me because I support the appointment of women into positions of leadership. At the same time, I have had more meaningful discussions with men that I work with in Solomon Islands about gender than I ever do in Australia.

Another thing that annoys me in this whole development scene is Australian men coming in and making judgements about "gender issues" in Solomons without looking at the plank in their own eye. While more than a third of Australian women have experienced domestic violence and men still make up the majority of CEOs in our sector, I think we should be very careful about getting on our high horses and demanding  miraculous changes in behaviour and attitude overnight in places like Solomon Islands when it's taken 60 years to see any meaningful progress in Australia.

However, I believe that change is possible. As we've seen from this recent election, and from changes in livestyle, dress and eating habits, people all over the world can and do adapt to changing circumstances in both positive and negative ways. We just need to encourage healthy changes, and support people who are at the forefront of challenging less helpful beliefs and practices. So, as Malaita heralds a new era of politics in Solomon Islands, let's wait and see - maybe other positive changes will follow.

In the bag

Having spent the past few days reading Bill Bryson’s account of his travels in Australia, and finding hilarity in the details of everyday life as experienced by a foreigner, I’ve decided to re-invigorate my blog with a few tales of sporadic travels to the Pacific. The fact that I’m here for work means that I need to be a bit circumspect about which stories I tell, but I thought I’d start with a little glimpse into packing for the trip, which should be harmless enough. A friend who travels frequently for work suggested I start up a separate "Solomons Bag" so that I'm ready to go whenever I need to suddenly relocate. This bag includes typical items such as travel pillow, mosquito net, all in one bed sheet in the style that my grandparents used when hostelling around the world, all-purpose plug, packets of tissues, mosquito repellant and travel wipes as well as a small first aid kit and a modest supply of pharmaceutical products. 

I also try to include thoughtful but easily transportable gifts for when visiting communities, such as handicrafts as I have no interest in adding kitsch, plastic, touristy items to a country that is already riddled with Chinese shops selling almost any piece of plastic crap you care to name. Incidentally, those Chinese shops are an anomaly in themselves. While we are familiar with the Two Dollar Shop idea in Australia, these shops have all the same crap but a slightly different set up. The Chinese manager sits up atop a high seat not unlike those used by tennis umpires, which is surrounded by a small cage. They manage the money while the locals are trusted only with running around getting the items and passing them to the umpire – sorry, cashier - for processing. A few years ago, there were riots in Chinatown, and a number of these shops were destroyed. It seems that the management didn’t see any correlation between the riots and the way they treat their staff, as they seem to be following the same management model as before the riots.

I always bring muesli bars and chocolate, but have recently added herbal tea bags and hot chocolate sachets to the consumables section of the list. A sarong (lava lava) is a must as it can double as a shade cloth, bed sheet, skirt, modesty swimsuit, light weight towel and more. When I went shopping in Sydney for suitable clothing for the Pacific, I was served by a Polynesian girl who sent me on my way with a few loose and flowing tops that have become the staples of my wardrobe over here, and a pair of pink court shoes which she suggested would be ideal, together with a short black number, for meeting dignitaries. Given that everyone in the Solomons wears flip flops (referred to here as slippers) regardless of whether they are travelling, working, or meeting dignitaries, and I can’t really see myself traipsing through mud in a pair of pink court shoes at the best of times, they have remained at the bottom of my cupboard at home. Of course, the list is a work in progress, and I’m always looking for ideas to add to it. Just the other day I heard somebody describe how they removed the mud from their shoes using their “second toothbrush”, and made a mental note to myself. I just need a way to make it clearly distinguishable from my teeth toothbrush. Another colleague swears by his billum (woollen woven shoulder bag – PNG style) as a great bag for getting about town. Even though it’s an open bag, it kindof closes in at each end, so if you hold it a certain way it’s almost impossible for anyone to pickpocket you. I procured one as soon as I could.

It’s ironic, though, that while we foreigners are getting geared up with local bilums, slippers and lava lavas, Solomon Islanders are increasingly wearing western clothes. Bales of donated second hand clothes and accessories are brought in on boats, and people can purchase sought after items such as t-shirts, women’s trousers, and bags at a reasonable price. On Saturday mornings when it is announced that new bales have arrived, the kalico (meaning clothing, not necessarily calico) shops are crowded with hopeful shoppers in search of a bargain. As a result, I often see men walking around town with a lady’s handbag casually slung over their shoulder or around their neck. I guess it just goes to show that it's not about the type of bag you have or even how you wear it. It's what's on the inside that counts!

The Kathmandu Cuddle

Nepal has had such a profound effect on me. I don't know if it was the early morning yoga, the meditative circling around the stupa, the vegetarian momos (dumplings) or the workshops themselves, but as I departed I had a feeling that a part of me was left behind in a country full of rich colours and gentle smiles.

On 19th August five Alternatives to Violence (AVP) facilitators arrived in Kathmandu to facilitate a series of conflict resolution workshops. In less than a week the workshops that had been discussed for almost a year were to begin. As Subhash, the local coordinator, ran about collecting materials, responding to last minute enquiries and still managing to maintain his constant calm presence, the rest of us busied ourselves with planning the sessions. In the midst of all this activity, I had not adequately prepared myself for the changes that would take place within me, the friendships that would form, and the lessons I would learn.

When the workshops began, I soon became Aletia Didi (older sister) and enjoyed the feeling of family that the greeting gave me. The group took to some of the lighthearted activities with enthusiasm, and adapted many of them to fit their particular context. Laughing yoga was introduced as part of the morning stretch, and our Koala Hug became the Kathmandu Cuddle. I was reminded of childhood, and of being part of a group that was so positive and loving that I wanted to cry.

People had come to the workshops for very different reasons. Some were there for work and some to improve relationships at home but an overwhelming majority came with the hope of finding alternatives to the violence in their country. When we asked the group at the end of the workshop to imagine and draw a peaceful community in Nepal, it was clear from the posters they produced that they had very specific dreams for their country and had every intention of being part of the solution. Now that the project is in their hands, I can't wait to hear about their achievements.

Tourist, Traveller or Trainer

As I sat in my favourite cafe in Kathmandu, sipping Masala tea and watching people circle the stupa, I started to wonder about my role here in Nepal. While I've come here to train people in nonviolence, I know just enough about development to be quite hesitant about what I can offer.

There an old saying that westerners who come to places like Nepal are either missionaries, mercinaries or misfits. Even today, there is some truth to that. Whether it's to Christianity, democracy or capitalism, there is always some level of conversion that takes place when westerners import their values to a developing country. The number of people wearing western clothes and yearning to visit Australia or USA is evidence of that.

The misfits have also played their part. Kathmandu is known for its hippy history. Many of the independant travellers of the 70's have influenced not only the style of clothing sold in Thamel, the tourist district of Kathmandu, but they also began the habit of giving to child beggers, which has made them quite vulnerable to child trafficking, and dependant on hand-outs.

The mercinaries are perhaps the career development workers, who started off with high ideals, but somewhere along the way start to feel that they deserve luxurious three bedroom houses complete with cooking and cleaning staff while their Nepalese counterparts live in cramped one-bedroom apartments together with their extended families. They are not ashamed to display their wealth, and then wonder why corruption and greed are a problem amongst local people.

So where do I fit in all this? I am here for just a short time, and find myself caught between the short term versions of the above categories. I am a foreigner staying in a single room in a hotel, displaying my wealth and visiting the sights alongside all the other tourists (does that make me a mercinary?) I am trying to catch local transport, and bargain for a good price, which I guess makes me a bit of a hippy traveller (misfit). And of course I'm supposed to be a trainer, sharing a particular knowledge that I have, which kindof makes me a missionary.

My challenge to myself is to have real and honest interactions with people wherever possible, to make as little negative impact on the country I visit as I can, and offer a conflict resolution process that has worked for me, without expectation of or control over how it will be used in this country in the future.

Money, money, money

When I recently re-joined the development sector, I was faced yet again with the issue of how much I should be paid. While eager to have some sense of self worth attached to my salary, a voice in my head reminded me that my friends in Kenya, Nepal or Rwanda would be grateful for half my wage.

I am not the only one faced with this dilemma. As a colleague once put it - why should those of us who attempt to right the world's wrongs be punished with crappy salaries, while ethically neutral work is rewarded with ludicrous financial benefits? While employees of development agencies are rightly demanding a fair wage for their services, wealthy donors are now expecting development agencies to spend as little as possible on "administrative" costs and to demonstrate levels of accountability that I am sure are not demanded of their favourite fashion labels or hair stylists.

Of course, I am not saying that we should not be accountable. In the old days when non-profit meant non-salary and development was really just hand-outs, people assumed that good intentions were enough, and as a result they sometimes got it horribly wrong. So it is good that the industry is changing. While committed people still exist, it's time to critically evaluate development work. We find ourselves thinking about "lessons learnt", "best practice" and "Codes of Conduct". We want a website that delivers a stronger donor base and we even write marketing plans.

But in the process of moving forward, let's not forget why we're here. At the end of the day, I want to know that I've made a difference, and I don't care (too much) what I earn. When I was reading a history of Quaker development work, I came across endless stories of truly committed people who had devoted their lives to alleviating poverty, addressing injustices and paving the way for peace. Most lived on the smell of an oily rag and achieved incredible outcomes. They did critically evaluate their work, and they did learn from their mistakes, but they kept true to their principles, and I think that's most important.

Second hand heaven

For those of you who love a second hand bargain, I tell you, I have found the ultimate charity shop! The markets in Kakamega (and many towns around Kenya) have streets and streets of stores selling second hand clothing at very reasonable prices.

When I expressed my glee at finding so many bargains, one storeholder shook his head and laughed, saying "but these clothes are from where you're from". It's true, they are. People send second hand clothes to Africa, and instead of just giving hand-outs, the whole thing has become a business venture. Each Monday when the shipments arrive, people go and pick out clothing according to their speciality. Some people sell men's shirts, some sell jeans, some focus on ladies skirts etc. Then they take their wares to their little alloted market store and make a little living.

What this man didn't realise was that nowhere in the western world (that I've seen) are the second hand clothes so well organised and so extensive. You can get absolutely anything you want here, and you don't have to be lucky - there's enough of everything to go around. The fact that I'm supporting local business at the same time as re-using perfectly good designer jeans all for an agreed price of less than $3 makes the whole process very rewarding.

Of course, there is a down-side, as a friend recently pointed out to me. Often in these situations it is the middle person (the one shipping the clothes) who makes the biggest profit, and the virtually free market for western clothes reduces the market for locally made clothing and products. This is true of so many approaches to development - people mean well, but don't think about the negative impacts of their gifts. In order to make up for my sins, I also bought lots of local fabric and artifacts, and look forward to having these little memories about me when I am back home in Australia.

Working in the field

In our training period, it was stressed that we should maintain a healthy work/life balance. In order to meet this requirement, we decided to spend our public holiday over the border in France, exploring Mont Salève. The cows with bells were a reminder that we were in the country, while the fact that we could see the jet d'eau from almost every point along the way reminded us that we weren't far from the city.

There's always a dilemma for people who work in the areas of development or peace. Do you work on policy and advocacy, hoping to make a difference from a more distant point of view and risk criticism of being removed from the issues? Or do you work "in the field", living in countries struggling to re-build after war, and risk criticism of colonial interference? Well, this day helped us to find some perspective on this difficult issue. Our conclusions? Perhaps it is possible to find a balance!