As many of you know, I'm a midwesterner at heart. Tornados, thunderstorms, heat lightening, and blizzards (all in the same week a lot of the time) are just a way of life, but this is the first cyclone I've ever experienced. Cyclone is the word for hurricanes in the southern, Pacific Ocean. We had already been evacuated to Suva, which is the capital of Fiji, once for a Cat. 2 cyclone New Years Day. I remember sleeping in my Bure thinking my roof was about to come off. Traditionally, a Fijian Bure, is designed to let the air pass right through and over it, which means that most Bure's typically will withstand cyclones. The cyclone from New Years changed it's path and I got a sunny few days off in the capital. I live about 2 hours from the capital by bus.
Two weeks before the cyclone, it was the hottest weather Fiji has ever experienced, courtesy of El Nino, and I saw Kadavu; Kadavu is an island off the southern tip of Fiji. According to the village, if you see Kadavu from my site, then there's bad weather coming. The week before Cyclone Winston hit it passed Fiji once and we had wind warnings. We were put on "warning" mode of our Emergency Action Plan; every Peace Corps country has an Emergency Action Plan, or EAP, and it has several levels. We thought it was gone with some rain and wind... We had training planned the following week for my group, Group 92 and I was told that we may just go a few days early. We had no idea what was about to happen...
On Friday, I was told to evacuate early to our hotel in Nadi for training. At this point, Winston had turned around and was supposed to pass south of Kadavu. At 10PM Friday night, I recieved a text that said "get on the first bus you can." It changed to being predicted to hit the capital of Suva; then later, Winston was supposed to pass directly through the main Island of Viti Levu. My site is pretty far south on the main island of Viti Levu, and is, just barely, considered western. I remember trying to sleep, but I couldn't because I was afraid my roof was going to come off. On facebook, at 5AM, I saw that Peace Corps evacuated Koro Island Volunteers at the last minute on a private jet, because the path of the storm had changed once again.
Peace Corps Volunteers were on Standfast, which means you don't move from your site, once we were consolidated. We were in Labasa, Nadi, Suva, and Taveuni... The Taveuni volunteers have a crazy story all on their own, which is not mine to tell. Peace Corps was doing the aboslute best they could to keep us safe with the ever changing path of the storm. This was the strongest, ever, cyclone in the entire southern hemistphere. The final path of the eye of the storm that we saw before the storm hit, showed the storm hitting land just off of the province of Tailevu. This is where we all stayed with host families during training; to say we were nervous was an understatement. We weren't nervous for us, but for the people of Fiji that we have fallen in love with.
The people of Fiji have this spirit, vibrancy and resiliency. For example, the people of my village built a "lovo" or earth oven the morning I was leaving and seemed unconcerned. They believe that whatever will happen, is God's will and they will be okay no matter what. To my eyes, it looks like unpreparedness, but to their eyes it's full faith in God. Up until the last minute the Minister and government were begging the people of Fiji to make preparations before it was too late. The Police had to shut several markets down and clear the roads. I arrived in the hotel, got my snacks and started to wait...
The winds began to pick up and we started to get nervous. As it got worse, we were asked to go into one room, so Peace Corps staff could keep their eye on us. As the winds picked up, I texted my family and friends to not worry because they expected us to lose power and cell phone service.... And then it went black.
Thankfully, for us, we had a backup generator. We played card games, danced and talked to pass the time. We were so thankful the eye of the storm went north of us and we didn't bear the full brunt of the storm. We lost contact with the other volunteers and were really worried about the people in Labasa and Taveuni. They told us be prepared to spend the night in this room listening to the winds.
All in all, we were very protected. Peace Corps Fiji did the absolute best they could with the eradic weather changes and unpredictability of the storm. While we were waiting we talked about how nervous we were for our villages, how weird it felt to be in a hotel with air conditioning and hot water, when our villages had nothing, and how surprised we were that we would all rather be with our villages. For group 92, we had barely been here 5 months, and that was a suprise to see how much we felt connected already. The air was thick with solemnity and anxiety, but we passed the time. It was hard to be in the dark not knowing for hours. I had the good fortune of knowing my village was not in the path of the eye of the storm., but that didn't make it easier.
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| Drinking grog to pass the time during training |
We finally got approval to go to bed once the storm died down. We weren't allowed to venture out and walk around yet, so we only had the word of a few people who had the other phone company because they were able to check facebook. We got on with training and were slowly joined by the other volunteers. We were so relieved to be together and have everybody be safe. Many of the volunteers couldn't get in contact with their villages; for some it took 2-3 weeks to be able to see their sites. About 25% of volunteers were displaced short-term or long-term due to damage to their houses.
Peace Corps is not disaster relief and I think some of us struggled with that. They have our safety as a priority, but it's hard as a volunteer to sit and do nothing. Slowly they released us to sites and I was one of the first to go back. There's a lot of guilt from being okay, when so many people are suffering. There's some tension because there are people who compare situtions. Everyone's feelings were valid and are still valid. Nobody can judge anybody else's site, but I am fully aware that my site was very blessed; that doesn't make it any easier to process the depth and severity of the situation.
While Winston was a mere 24 hour newsbite in America, it is still effecting half the Fijians here. I urge you to donate to the Fijian Government, Red Cross New Zealand or Red Cross Australia. The people of Fiji are so strong. I won't forget hearing the children laugh and playing on the area where a house used to stand in my village when I walked back into my village. Everyone is so strong and even in the face of trials, they will still give you the shirt off their back. They will share in their food, their grog, tell stories, and laugh. These people live off the land and the infrastructure was not prepared to handle a disaster of this level. There is a large deficit for funding for repairs. Entire villages were destroyed and 42 people lost their lives. But the laugh of those kids, that is the spirit of Fiji and that is why I urge you to donate. The spirt of Fiji is contagious.
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| The children of Navola Village playing post-winston |
http://www.fiji.gov.fj/getattachment/ebb52bfc-8e2e-4742-8f28-d4cccd009d76/FACTSHEET-ON-ASSISTANCE-FOR-VICTIMS-OF-TC-WINSTON.aspx
http://www.redcross.org.au/cyclonewinstonappeal.aspx
Please do not copy any part of this post into a journal, blog or newstory without my consent. Feel free to share online, but I prefer to get a heads up. Thank you!
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