It's been an awesome trip to Tanna so far. Me, Melissa and Joe went to go see Mike Hoffman in Middle Bush Tanna, check out the volcano and as a last something before leaving Vanuatu. We've been drinking kava at Mike's nakamal and walking around almost the entire island. The first day we met Mike at the airport, walked to Lenekal and happened to come across Matt, the 19A volunteer. We drank kava in Lenekal and slept on the beach near the bungalow where Brett has been staying since he doesn't have a real house yet. The second day we walked for a few hours until we came to Matt's house which can only be described as niiiiiiice. After a prolonged rest at the house in which we roasted, ground and percolated our own Tanna coffee we spent the rest of the day hiking to Mike's village in middle bush Tanna. Mike's site is interesting in that everyone walks about 30 minutes to either a waterfall or river just to bathe. After bathing in the river we went back to his site and he, myself and Joe went to drink kava at the nakamal and while Melissa made Tanna soup back at the house. On Tanna it's forbidden for a women to look at kava, which means she can not enter the nakamal at night since that's where the kava is made. Melissa was a good sport about it as she understands the importance of traditions here in Vanuatu, especially on Tanna.
Yesterday, we had the idea to get a nanni (goat) and then take it up to Yassur to eat with the wine we bought in Vila. So in the morning we walked down the road trying to find a goat to buy. We eventually found one and bought it from a man named Jimmy about 45 minutes away from Mike's house. We tried putting it on a rope but that didn't work so we took turns carrying it back on our shoulders. Joe was carrying it until we came across a group of kids and a momma. The kids said they would be able to lead it on the rope so we thought “Hey, maybe they know something we don't know. After all, they've lived here their entire lives and have probably pulled a lot more nanni's than we have.” So trying to be as culturally appropriate as possible, Joe took the goat off his shoulders and handed the rope to the pikinini. Well, the kids just kicked and beat the nanni with sticks and tried to pull it along but harder than we had been
trying. Of course, this didn't work. “Got i no save rop” (The goat doesn't know how to follow a leash) they said. We went back to carrying it on our shoulders. Back at the house we made preparations to kill the goat. Since none of us had actually killed a goat before this took a little bit but we eventually settled on a game plan. Mike held the goat down, Joe knocked it out with a log of wood, I cut its throat with Mike's big-ass black Kabar army knife and Melissa captured the whole event on video. We then proceeded to field dress the nanni, cutting it into four legs, ribs, tenderloins and spine, saving the skin and brain for a brain-tanned rawhide demonstration I did in the nakamal for the men in Mike's village. It was pretty sweet, man Tanna loves blood. We then seasoned the goat with a wet rub, smoked it for a day and a night, roasted it and ate it as we hiked with a dipping sauce I made out of onions, garlic, wine, ketchup and Maggi seasoning. To say that the goat was good is a crime, to say it was exceptional is an understatement; I had never truly tasted goat until I bit into that roasted leg. We snacked on goat until Jungle Oasis where we ate two legs of it, even sharing some with the manager (who we saw for probably five minutes the two days we were at the bungalow). Anyway we told the cook there “Hey, we have a lot of roasted goat here, is it ok if we store it in your kitchen so it's safe?” And the cook replied “Yeah sure, it's cool.” We really wanted the goat to be safe because we put so much work into it and because we were planning to eat it for the next two days. Also, most of the dogs in Vanuatu are starving and love meat. In fact, earlier that day when we first arrived to Jungle Oasis and set all our stuff down, a dog ran over and was trying to eat his way through the plastic bags that the goat was in while we were showering. We put the two legs of goat and the two tenderloins in the kitchen, double bagged in heavy duty Ziploc freezer bags. Of course the next day the nanni was gone but there was an empty Ziploc bag. We asked the cook “What happened? Where's our God damn goat?” and the cook replied, “Oh I think a dog took it. You know, if you'd have told me you wanted to put goat in the kitchen I would have told you to keep it in your room where it would be safe.” I don't think I've ever been so close to murdering another human being in my life. All of us were speechless for about fifteen seconds. For the next hour or so we tried to play detective, searching the kitchen, the surrounding areas looking for clues and asking each other questions like “How could a dog have taken it if there's a clean Ziploc bag there” and “Do you think if we could eat the dog that ate our goat?” We're still not sure if it was a dog or man but we strongly believe that a staff member took it. But we were all very very pissed off, two smoked legs and two tenderloins gone. Just gone. After we realized that bitching and pointing fingers would get us no where, we decided to take jam and bread up to the volcano instead. I started the jam as I normally do and went to go take a shower, telling the cook not to do anything until I came back. Unfortunately when I came back the “cook” told me he had added the coconut milk, which totally spoiled the jam because the sugar didn't caramelize. I told him to wait for me but I guess he knows better than I do. We spent the better part of the day playing Euchre and waiting for the jam to cook down. 
After we had our jam and bread ready we packed up and hiked to the base of Yassur volcano. Yassur isn't very tall so we planned to play around the ash plain until we needed to summit. We started to follow a dry river bed that looked like it might lead to the summit. After a while some folks wanted to turn back, stating that no one knew if the trail would even lead to the top. I was persistent, asking for just a little more time, give us a 4pm deadline. We kept walking, climbing over boulders, clearing a bush trail at times and trying to keep folks from turning back. Eventually, the river bed did lead up to the main trail, but only after leading us through sharp red volcanic landscape. Ironically, we were all barefoot since I had climbed to the top of Yassur barefoot the year before and had told everyone we didn't need shoes. At the top of Yassur we mailed some letters from the volcano post office box and went to the left observation ridge for some fireworks, wine and bread with jam. We had heard from several people that Y
assur fires up when people drink wine at the summit. Sure enough, minutes after uncorking the wine Yassur really fired up. It was such a large explosion that the ground shook and we saw a visible shock wave go through the smoke and ash that was in the volcano. Being that close to something that powerful really makes one realize how small and meek they are, especially when hot lava starts falling down on you. After the initial reaction to the huge noise, we looked upwards and realized that at least two pieces of molten rock were coming . . . right for us. Very quickly we picked up all our gear and started running, nay, bolting down the side of the mountain lest we be crushed by melting rock.. I managed to look up and see a basketball size rock land maybe 10 feet away from where Joe was standing. Halfway down the volcano we sat down and tried to gather our thoughts and breath for a second. We all agreed that it was the closest we've come to death, closer than looking down the barrel of a gun, deer hunting or eating steak tartar. After we had settled down and stopped our racing hearts we decided to try going to the right observation ridge in hopes that there would be less chance of death over there. We took our backpacks up to the right and just chilled, admiring the power of the volcano when lo an behold, it fired up again but this time 
sending molten rock over our heads. Luckily we realized that it is better to see where the rock is going to land and then move accordingly instead of blindly running down a volcano bare foot. We spent a long time on the Yassur, only leaving after the sun had gone down and having an impromptu dance party on top. Upon reflection, it may have been a little culturally inappropriate to dance on top of an active volcano but we were so happy to be alive and I brought my speakers with me. Besides, volcanoes love James Brown.
trying. Of course, this didn't work. “Got i no save rop” (The goat doesn't know how to follow a leash) they said. We went back to carrying it on our shoulders. Back at the house we made preparations to kill the goat. Since none of us had actually killed a goat before this took a little bit but we eventually settled on a game plan. Mike held the goat down, Joe knocked it out with a log of wood, I cut its throat with Mike's big-ass black Kabar army knife and Melissa captured the whole event on video. We then proceeded to field dress the nanni, cutting it into four legs, ribs, tenderloins and spine, saving the skin and brain for a brain-tanned rawhide demonstration I did in the nakamal for the men in Mike's village. It was pretty sweet, man Tanna loves blood. We then seasoned the goat with a wet rub, smoked it for a day and a night, roasted it and ate it as we hiked with a dipping sauce I made out of onions, garlic, wine, ketchup and Maggi seasoning. To say that the goat was good is a crime, to say it was exceptional is an understatement; I had never truly tasted goat until I bit into that roasted leg. We snacked on goat until Jungle Oasis where we ate two legs of it, even sharing some with the manager (who we saw for probably five minutes the two days we were at the bungalow). Anyway we told the cook there “Hey, we have a lot of roasted goat here, is it ok if we store it in your kitchen so it's safe?” And the cook replied “Yeah sure, it's cool.” We really wanted the goat to be safe because we put so much work into it and because we were planning to eat it for the next two days. Also, most of the dogs in Vanuatu are starving and love meat. In fact, earlier that day when we first arrived to Jungle Oasis and set all our stuff down, a dog ran over and was trying to eat his way through the plastic bags that the goat was in while we were showering. We put the two legs of goat and the two tenderloins in the kitchen, double bagged in heavy duty Ziploc freezer bags. Of course the next day the nanni was gone but there was an empty Ziploc bag. We asked the cook “What happened? Where's our God damn goat?” and the cook replied, “Oh I think a dog took it. You know, if you'd have told me you wanted to put goat in the kitchen I would have told you to keep it in your room where it would be safe.” I don't think I've ever been so close to murdering another human being in my life. All of us were speechless for about fifteen seconds. For the next hour or so we tried to play detective, searching the kitchen, the surrounding areas looking for clues and asking each other questions like “How could a dog have taken it if there's a clean Ziploc bag there” and “Do you think if we could eat the dog that ate our goat?” We're still not sure if it was a dog or man but we strongly believe that a staff member took it. But we were all very very pissed off, two smoked legs and two tenderloins gone. Just gone. After we realized that bitching and pointing fingers would get us no where, we decided to take jam and bread up to the volcano instead. I started the jam as I normally do and went to go take a shower, telling the cook not to do anything until I came back. Unfortunately when I came back the “cook” told me he had added the coconut milk, which totally spoiled the jam because the sugar didn't caramelize. I told him to wait for me but I guess he knows better than I do. We spent the better part of the day playing Euchre and waiting for the jam to cook down. 
After we had our jam and bread ready we packed up and hiked to the base of Yassur volcano. Yassur isn't very tall so we planned to play around the ash plain until we needed to summit. We started to follow a dry river bed that looked like it might lead to the summit. After a while some folks wanted to turn back, stating that no one knew if the trail would even lead to the top. I was persistent, asking for just a little more time, give us a 4pm deadline. We kept walking, climbing over boulders, clearing a bush trail at times and trying to keep folks from turning back. Eventually, the river bed did lead up to the main trail, but only after leading us through sharp red volcanic landscape. Ironically, we were all barefoot since I had climbed to the top of Yassur barefoot the year before and had told everyone we didn't need shoes. At the top of Yassur we mailed some letters from the volcano post office box and went to the left observation ridge for some fireworks, wine and bread with jam. We had heard from several people that Y
assur fires up when people drink wine at the summit. Sure enough, minutes after uncorking the wine Yassur really fired up. It was such a large explosion that the ground shook and we saw a visible shock wave go through the smoke and ash that was in the volcano. Being that close to something that powerful really makes one realize how small and meek they are, especially when hot lava starts falling down on you. After the initial reaction to the huge noise, we looked upwards and realized that at least two pieces of molten rock were coming . . . right for us. Very quickly we picked up all our gear and started running, nay, bolting down the side of the mountain lest we be crushed by melting rock.. I managed to look up and see a basketball size rock land maybe 10 feet away from where Joe was standing. Halfway down the volcano we sat down and tried to gather our thoughts and breath for a second. We all agreed that it was the closest we've come to death, closer than looking down the barrel of a gun, deer hunting or eating steak tartar. After we had settled down and stopped our racing hearts we decided to try going to the right observation ridge in hopes that there would be less chance of death over there. We took our backpacks up to the right and just chilled, admiring the power of the volcano when lo an behold, it fired up again but this time 
sending molten rock over our heads. Luckily we realized that it is better to see where the rock is going to land and then move accordingly instead of blindly running down a volcano bare foot. We spent a long time on the Yassur, only leaving after the sun had gone down and having an impromptu dance party on top. Upon reflection, it may have been a little culturally inappropriate to dance on top of an active volcano but we were so happy to be alive and I brought my speakers with me. Besides, volcanoes love James Brown. The day after we almost died, we started back to Lenekal. After leaving Jungle Oasis we realized that all we had to eat was a few slices of bread and the water we had with us. After a few hours on an empty stomach we all agreed Tanna needed more stores, that is, until we found one and gorged ourselves on breakfast crackers, tin Santo Beef and peanut butter. As we ate the salty yet nourishing meal, I mentioned that the only thing that could make the meal any better is if we had that goat the bastards and Jungle Oasis stole from us. Everyone agreed. Luckily we were able to catch a free truck ride back to Lenekal, we had walked over 30 miles in so many days and were getting a little tired. We spent our last night on the beach we slept on the first night we were in Tanna but not before catching an absolutely breathtaking sunset.
The plan for the next few days is to pack up all my crap, cook tapas and party like I'm leaving the country. My next post will probably be from Singapore or Thailand.
The plan for the next few days is to pack up all my crap, cook tapas and party like I'm leaving the country. My next post will probably be from Singapore or Thailand.
