Black and White

The islands of Vanuatu accentuate skin color like no place I've ever been. Everywhere I go, I am the "White Misses" before I am Laura, Naswayu (my custom name), the "Pis Kop long Loukatai," the volunteer, the teacher, or the crazy running woman. I am all of these things, but the thing that prevails in all of my interactions, is my whiteness. The distinction of white and black is made so readily on Tanna, and it used to startle my American-cultivated sensitivity to skin color distinctions reflecting underlying racism. But on an island where the commonly used name for the main town is "Black Man Town," I have gotten used to these simple distinctions that are never meant to be offensive. I find it endearing when people smile and laugh at me and say I am becoming a black woman, as they are appreciating my integration into their community. And at the end of the day, I will always be the one white girl in the village of black people.

I am not, however, the only white person on Tanna. There are now a total of 6 Peace Corps Volunteers scattered over the island. And for the past 6 months, there has been an awesome Canadian family living here. The dad has been serving as the one and only doctor, and the mom has been notorious for driving her 3 boys around in the blue truck. The only woman driving a truck on Tanna! The 3 boys have been heralded as Lion King stars, and have become favorites among the kids of my village. When the truck shows up at the school, kids appear from the bushes to gather around, and especially to swoon over the youngest of the trio. The girls love him. The 3-year-old gets smothered with kisses everywhere he goes. I don't know what he makes of it, and what he's going to think when he goes back to Canada and he no longer has girlfriends appearing every time he gets out of a vehicle. But I do think they will be legends in my village. And every time we see the Doctor's truck in the future, without 3 boys in tow, the local kids will come crying out the boys' names to me. And I will always be grateful for the times I got to go across the island with them to the best surf and sand beaches on Tanna, in a truck filled with kids from my village. The local kids struggle with English, but their friendships with this trio of white boys, shows that kids speak a common language with each other that surpasses English words, that embraces blackness and whiteness, and that finds joy in playing together, in exploring, and in laying smooches on the little ones. The blackness and whiteness of it all just makes it more beautiful.

The farewell cake was a big hit. Most of the kids ate 3 pieces of frosted chocolate cake made up on "hospital hill." The kids will all surely remember each other. They will remember their black and white friends, and they will remember their black and white cake.