A Day of Learning and Service by Connor Hoernlein

 As law students from Willamette University College of Law, our journey to Vanuatu was an eye-opening experience into the challenges and strides in addressing domestic violence on the island. During our visit, we had the privilege of meeting with a sergeant from the Family Protection Unit. The Family Protection Unit, we learned, is one of the busiest in Vanuatu, which is responsible for handling domestic violence cases. There's a growing awareness among the populace that domestic violence is not only a moral wrong, but also a legal one. This awareness has led to an increase in reports from all family members, not just wives. The sergeant shared that while there's a sense that things are improving, the unit remains as busy as ever.  There remains a prevalent stigma, with men often perceived as the hierarchy of the home. 

This mindset not only perpetuates the problem but also discourages male victims from coming forward. The complexity of the situation is evident, with issues ranging from the stigma associated with reporting and the cultural norms hindering the reporting of domestic violence, as people are reluctant to offend their community and their leaders. Sexual violence is also a significant issue, exacerbated by cultural taboos around discussing sex. Efforts to combat these issues have been bolstered by increased funding and support from Australian and New Zealand police forces. 

However, challenges remain. There is pressure from chiefs and elders to handle matters internally rather than involving the police. This makes it difficult for victims, especially children, to understand and report these crimes. The Family Protection Act of 2008 has helped curb corporal punishment, and schools are now more vigilant in reporting abuse cases involving children. Despite these efforts, there are still significant barriers to overcoming domestic violence in Vanuatu. Many women endure abuse without reporting, influenced by factors like reputation, community pressure, and religious teachings. The concept of bride price, while tradition, is misconstrued as ownership over the bride, further complicating matters.

Our group also participated in a community service project at a local kindergarten. This experience was not just about giving back; it was a lesson in cultural exchange, teamwork, and the joy of making a tangible difference in the lives of others. Our group, eager and ready to contribute, was divided into two teams. The first team undertook the task of revamping the interior of a classroom. The result was a beautiful mural.

Meanwhile, the second team tackled the playground outside. The playground, which was showing signs of wear and age, was in need of attention. We constructed a new jungle gym and replaced the old swings with new strings and seats, and built a playhouse. The entire playground was repainted, breathing new life into a space that is crucial for the children's physical activity and social interaction. After a morning of hard work, we were graciously invited to share a traditional Vanuatu lunch, prepared by the headmaster and the dedicated mamas who run the school. The meal was not only delicious, and served in the village "community hall" at the beach, but also an opportunity to spend time with the local community. 

The highlight of the day came when our work was completed. We watched with delight as the children rushed to the playground, their faces lighting up at the sight of the new equipment and the colorful mural. Their laughter and excitement were infectious, and soon we found ourselves joining in, playing soccer, and interacting with the children on their newly refurbished playground.

This experience was more than just a service project; as law students, we often focus on the theoretical and procedural aspects of justice, but here, in this small village on the island of Efate, we were reminded of the human side of our profession. We were reminded that at the heart of the law is the desire to serve, protect, and uplift communities. This international experience provided students from the Willamette College of Law with a different perspective on what life is like for those in different corners of the globe. This class pushed students out of their comfort zone to create future problem solvers that can work and lead in an environment of constant stress, chaos, failure, and hardship. We learned not only about the people of Vanuatu and their culture, but on how to challenge ourselves physically and intellectually. Vanuatu is a beautiful place, but like many places it needs work. Being a part of this class forced the students to analyze and think critically on possible solutions to stymie the harmful practices to women and children, while seeking to preserve the community’s culture. I believe one of the goals of this trip was to get students to think about future generations. I think its crucial that our generation make the effort to ensure that they live in a world far better than the one we have today. Without the guidance of Professor Buske and the work we did in Vanuatu I may have never learned that there is always something beneath the surface. It takes empathy, patience, hard work, and an ability to persevere through adversity that not only makes good lawyers but good human beings.

Is it Just a Dress? By Sarah Schra

 Aelan dres ("Island Dress") aka Mama Dress: Puffed sleeves, high princess neckline that opens into a shapeless bell of fabric, with side panels sewn on at the waist to hide the shape of the woman's hips.

The Island Dress was originally introduced locally as the Mother Hubbard by white missionaries as a way to encourage island women to dress in a more modern and chaste way, according to western standards.  First copied from a nightgown belonging to a white presbyterian missionary, the Island Dress, now called a Mama dress, has evolved into a colorful and sometimes ornate symbol of Vanuatu identity. When Vanuatu finally declared independence from joint French and English rule in 1980, it was important for this country made up of over 80 islands to form a unified national identity. The Mama dress became a representation of the relationship between Melanesian identity, Christianity, and Vanuatu cultural heritage and tradition otherwise known as kastom. "The face of Vanuatu is that of the mama (mother)—the married, visibly Melanesian, church-going, village-dwelling mother who is respectful of both kastom and Christian (most often male) authority."[1]

In this way, the Mama dress has become the required uniform of the ni Vanuatu mother, and younger women are usually required to wear them when in their villages, at church, or when attending other traditional events. Some chiefs impose a fine if a woman does not wear the Mama dress at designated times. The women who came to clean our lodgings arrived at the villas in their Mama dresses, changed into knit skirts and T-shirts to clean, and then changed back into their Mama dresses when they left to return home at the end of each day.

The purpose of our trip into town today was two-fold. We were planning to pick out fabric for our graduation stoles, and some of us were looking at either purchasing a mama dress pre-made, or purchasing fabric and having one custom-made. Knowing this was part of our planned itinerary while in Vanuatu, I had been thinking long and hard about whether I wanted a Mama dress. Initially my concern was cultural appropriation, but the ni Vanuatu seemed pleased to see visitors adopting their form of dress. We were also planning to meet with the council of chiefs, and for that meeting, the women in our group would need to dress in a culturally respectful manner - a Mama dress being the most appropriate. However, beyond the national identity of the Mama dress is an element of subversion of women's rights . . . the expectation of chastity, of submission to the authority of their husband, church, and chief no matter the individual cost.  Domestic violence against women is a significant issue in Vanuatu, largely because of the position of women in the Vanuatu caste system.  The only person lower in the caste system is a female child. When a couple is married, it is traditional for the husband's family to give the wife's family a collection of hand-woven mats, pigs, vegetables, etc., and sometimes cash - all considered the wife's "bride price." While not all vi Vanuatu continue this custom, it is common practice and many ni Vanuatu men interpret this practice as "purchasing" their wife. The wife's Mama dress uniform then becomes a symbol of her purchased status. For all of these reasons, I wanted to find a way to respect the chiefs and support the local seamstresses without getting a traditional Mama dress.  

Elise found a woman named Rosie who sews simple sarong-style dresses that can be worn three different ways. She makes them for tourists - I never saw an island woman wearing anything similar - but I wanted to give her my business and so we picked out fabric and had Rosie sew us custom sarong dresses. Jana and Emily also had them made. As you can see from the photos, Rosie is wearing the traditional Mama dress - contrasting fabric/lace around the high neckline, puffed sleeves, and side panels sewn on at the waist, also trimmed with lace.

I also found a pre-made dress made by another one of the seamstresses that was "Vanuatu modest" but without the lace, puffed sleeves, and side panels of the traditional Mama dress. When I wore my "Vanuatu modest" dress the following day, the women who work at our lodgings complimented me (a first), and I felt like the other people we met in town treated me with slightly more respect than when I had worn shorts or overalls into town.

Some younger women on the island struggle with the traditional dress, and feel confined by the archaic ideal of womanhood and submission to a patriarchal system that the dress represents.  The T-shirt below is from a feminist organization in Vanuatu called Sista (https://www.sista.com.vu/) who are working to empower women in Vanuatu.

The dress is hot. There is a lot of fabric, and although there is a slight breeze that comes up from the bottom, the sleeves and weight of all the folds is a bit stifling in the hot humid weather. Most younger women we saw in town wore long board shorts and tee-shirts. Almost every older woman wore a Mama dress. Some women have reported that the risk of being sexually assaulted also makes the dress undesirable - some wear shorts or a full one-piece swimsuit under their Mama dress in order to impede sexual contact from undesired partners. 

One of the ni Vanuatu women we spoke to from Melee, just outside of Port Vila, mentioned that the cost of living increases on the island, combined with the cost of fabric and seamstress labor make obtaining an island dress a costly proposition. For younger women who are unemployed or without means, the requirement that they be modestly attired in the traditional Mama dress is an unfair obligation that prevents impoverished women from achieving respect and reception into traditional Vanuatu society.

As the Island continues to embrace tourism, I suspect that the attachment to the Mama dress will only strengthen as a way of holding onto Vanuatu's national identity. However, for the sake of future generations of ni Vanuatu women I hope that they are only required to wear the Mama dress on special occasions, and not as an everyday uniform.

After our day in town, we had a very late lunch at a restaurant a few miles from our home base and then a few of us walked back in lieu of taking the bus.

We took a short detour to check out Honeymoon Beach, a place the locals and tourists alike come to swim and enjoy.

And as a perfect end to the day, we were greeted by a rainbow on the way home.

[1] Maggie Cummings, Looking Good: The Cultural Politics of the Island Dress for Young Women in Vanuatu, Dec. 31, 2012, Center for Pacific Islands Studies, University of Hawaii at Manoa.

Make Today Beautiful -- by Sarah Schra

 It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.  

- Lucy Maud Montgomery

Morning in Vanuatu is filtered sunlight, a full bird chorale and thick hot air. Either rain or steam radiates from the wild dense jungle, pleasantly scented by hyacinth and bougainvillea flowers, coconut and plantain trees. Even on an overcast day filled with rain showers, the air is warm and the birds still loudly welcome the morning. This cacophony of light and sound makes it impossible to sleep in.

Today was no different. I rose early, went for a miles-long walk, expecting to have a cup of coffee, a shower, and maybe a nap and a swim when we got back to our home base. Island calendars are always in flux. When I arrived back sweaty and tired, I discovered we were leaving straightaway to go into town to purchase supplies for our community service project. I'm generally flexible, but the combination of the humidity, heat, and exhaustion from the previous days had put my attitude in a sour place. I really wanted a cup of coffee and a shower at the very least. The ability to flex and adjust, and to give when needed is an absolute necessity in this culture. So, choosing adventure, showerless and uncaffeinated, I rode into town with our crew and the representatives from the Pango Kindergarten.  Aaaand it started raining!

Aroalyn (aka "Aruha"), the 20yr old teacher in training and daughter to the head of school, rode into town with us and we developed an immediate rapport. She spontaneously gifted me a bracelet from her wrist, and in return I gave her the rainbow band from my finger which I had purchased at LAX to replace the wedding ring I had left at home.  This small exchange on a bumpy dirt road warmed my heart and is a core memory from our time on the island. Aruha's warmth and generosity in that moment represents the best of the island, even amidst poverty and hardship. 

 The kindergarten was started by Aruha's grandmother, a retired teacher who saw a need in her community for the little ones to learn to read and write before they could attend the local elementary school. Aruha's mother eventually became head of the kindergarten, and now Aruha is studying to assist her mother and eventually take over the school someday. She has a joy-filled smile, and a spark of mischievousness that only endeared her to me further. Her young neices came along with us, and it was fully evident they adored her as well.

Once we arrived at Wilco, the Port Vila equivalent to our Lowe's or Home Depot,  we hunted down paint and rollers, paintbrushes for the mural we were planning to paint, and priced the new ceiling materials.  

The two younger girls who came to town with us followed Emily all around the store, calling her "teacher, teacher" and helped to pick out brushes, and selected a soft pink and vibrant purple color of paint to use in the mural. The twinkle in their eyes and the way Emily embraced their eager assistance was another bright moment in the day. 

I noticed that the customers in the store were mostly men, but there were also several women in the store purchasing building supplies. The women shopping in the store primarily wore t-shirts and skirts in lieu of the traditional island "mama dress", but there were a few who wore the mama dress. (More on the Mama Dress in a future post). 

On the way home we stopped at a Deli and then went back and cooked a large family meal of roasted chicken, rice, and vegetables. It was delicious, and just what the doctor ordered for those in the group who were struggling to adjust to island food. Dinner conversations with the group always shift to impressions of the day, the island as a whole, what we are reading, and how to reconcile individual rights with the collectivism inherent in Vanuatu culture. I look forward to this time of day and space it provides to reflect and hear other perspectives. 

Making one's mind up that you will embrace the day, whatever it may bring, and choose to squeeze the joy out of it is a life skill that I will continually need to practice. It does not come naturally to me, but when I am successful at it, it truly makes a difference in my attitude and the attitude of those around me, and often grounds and connects me to each moment in a way I would otherwise miss out on. The continuous flux of life in a third-world country offers a unique opportunity to challenge and grow this skill in a way our western bulleted lists and exact times for meetings, classes and plans never could. Our western culture does not force us to shift gears or readjust our expectations nearly as often. As future attorneys, the ability to flex, shift, and take a different route while preserving our good attitude is an invaluable skill that will greatly benefit our future clients. 

Snorkeling, Salsa, Sea Turtles, and Scuba Diving: A Day of Firsts - by Emily Almeida

  In this life, we are presented with countless opportunities to take the world by the reins and try new things. It is our response to those opportunities that can change our lives, that can create memories that will last a lifetime and alter our perspectives forever.

On Sunday, January 7th, our group was faced with this reality, and we came away with countless memories and an appreciation for new hobbies. In the early morning hours, we split into two groups. Andrew and Elise went on a diving excursion and the other six members of our crew in Vanuatu got onto a bus to head towards the dock for our day of sailing and snorkeling.

 While Andrew and Elise explored the depths of the ocean on one side of Vanuatu, the rest of our group was delighted to be sailing with our Captain, who was also the Senior Magistrate Judge in Port Vila, Moses Peter. Moses graduated law school in 2010, and his application to become a judge was accepted a few weeks later. Moses has been working in the magistrate court for the last 13 years and was invested with the Senior Magistrate title in 2015. As a judge he presided over many domestic violence cases and was a council member in the South Pacific Conference on Youth and Children’s Court. He was the perfect captain for our ship of students studying the rights of women and children in Vanuatu.

In between our snorkeling breaks, we asked him questions about his time in law school and his work as a judge. He shared with us that law school in Vanuatu is a four-year process, and that, to become a judge, all that an applicant needs to complete is a paper application stating interest, after which they may be selected. We also learned that the lifecycle of a case in Vanuatu can be incredibly long because of all the filing requirements and the remote nature of the country. For legal issues in Port Vila, cases may move faster, but for issues on more remote islands, the case may be pending for years until the court makes its rounds to that island.

Moses also spoke with us about the plural legal system here in Vanuatu. Vanuatu is unique in that it is one of the only truly plural legal systems, in the sense that there are two distinct recognized conflict management devices. There is kastom, which is the historical method of conflict management that became ratified in the Vanuatu constitution and penal code upon Vanuatu’s independence, gained in July of 1980. Kastom is a legal system handled by the chiefs of every village and is best described as an expectation placed on the members of villages to act a certain way in conjunction with the values of the community. The other legal system is our traditional view of ‘law’, a formal system set up by the State that engages in criminal and civil cases. Though ‘kastom’ has been generally recognized by law and is to be honored in certain aspects of a legal proceeding (for example, in determining damages, the value exchanged under kastom at the direction of the chief must be recognized), there is no one definition of kastom. Kastom changes from village to village, and while there are overarching themes, the legal recognition of all kastom practices creates an avenue for certain actions to be excused as kastom to justify an act that would otherwise be seen as a serious transgression.

An example of kastom is the concept of ‘bride price’, which is the exchange of value from a man to a woman’s father in return for the man taking the daughter as his wife. The value is capped at 80,000 vatu, or just under $700 USD. Though the bride price was originally intended to be given in thanks for the family raising the daughter for the man to marry, it has become distorted over time, and is now used as an excuse for men to do what they like to their wives under the justification of it being permitted under kastom. Moses explained to us how the excuse of kastom in court can complicate legal proceedings, and, if not handled carefully, can lead Ni-Vanuatu to lose faith in the legal system of conflict management, writing it off as an effort to erase kastom, the cultural backbone of Vanuatu.

Our conversations with Moses were incredibly enlightening- we were so lucky to have him as our captain! He agreed to take a picture with us after we finished sailing.

Our boat trip wasn’t just speaking to Moses - we also made stops to snorkel and explore! Our first stop was tranquility island, home of the Tranquility Island Resort Turtle Rookery, which raises Hawksbill turtles from hatchlings to 1 year old, in the hopes of lowering the likelihood of death and giving them a better chance to reach breeding age.

After a brief history of their work at this preservation center, we were given instructions on how to clean our hands and safely handle the turtles, and then we were given the opportunity to interact with sea turtles at different stages of their lifecycle.

It was an outstanding opportunity, and the ethical treatment of these endangered sea turtles made the experience even more meaningful.

After our stop at Tranquility Island, we went snorkeling at three different spots. At the first point, a few of us swam alongside a nursery shark, while others explored the coral reef and various species living just underneath the water. The second stop gave us the opportunity to swim with a school of fish, watch flying fish as they jumped above the water line, feed fish small pieces of bread, and watch some sea turtles in the distance. Our final stop allowed us to look at giant clams and enjoy the water one last time before returning to the shore.

At the end of the day, over a bowl of salsa and with our group reunited, we shared our ‘highs’ for the day, spoke about our different experiences, and realized that we had all tried at least one thing for the first time that day. It was a valuable day of learning and fun, and created memories that will last a lifetime.

Vanuatu Salsa Recipe:

1.     Travel to Top Rock, just north of the Blue Lagoon, and buy two mangoes. Let them sit on the counter for two days to get ripe.

2.     Go to the local deli and purchase one white onion.

3.     At Au Bon Marche, buy a bag of garlic. (It’s not sold by the individual head of garlic, but rather a bag of roughly 15 heads for 450 vatu. You only need four cloves of garlic, but this step is mandatory).

4.     Travel to the Mama Market downtown and buy one medium pineapple, two pounds of tomatoes, a bowl of sweet peppers, and a bowl of small limes, for a grand total of less than 1,000 vatu.

5.     Dice the tomatoes, ¼ of the onion, about a handful of the peppers, and four of the small limes. Cube the mangos and ¼ of the pineapple. Mix together, then add the juice of four of the limes.

6.     Serve alongside whatever tortilla chips you can find to a group of almost-strangers-become-close-friends, preferably with a side of reminiscing over your time exploring Vanuatu, learning about local law, and becoming familiar with a once unfamiliar culture. 

"Sefti, digniti, rispek mo gud fasin blong evriwan" ( Safety, dignity, respect and proper treatment for all ) by Jana Baker

Vanuatu Department of Corrections 

Trying to describe what it is like waking up in Vanuatu is like trying to describe a dream because you are truly waking up in paradise. Our villa sits on a beautiful beach looking out at the South Pacific Ocean providing the ultimate view of picturesque clear blue waters, white sand, and tropical landscape. Each morning I wake up and enjoy a cup of coffee or orange juice on our deck only steps from the beach. As I journal, I hear the birds chirping, the wind whispering through the trees, accompanied by the waves crashing along the shore orchestrating the perfect symphony.

With such beauty in every morning, it is hard to imagine that Vanuatu offers anything less than the perfect paradise I have grown accustomed to, but darkness is always lurking beyond the brightness. In the shadows beyond the tourism, beautiful beaches, and smiling faces, there is a lot of violence and crime. The legal system in Vanuatu integrates both English common law and indigenous customary law. Rather recently, in 2006, Vanuatu introduced “Dipatmen Blong Koreksenol Sevis” which provides correctional services to the country. Typically, all services are shut down during the holidays, but because of Professor Buske’s local connections, we were lucky enough to tour the correctional facilities today. 

The most incredible part of studying abroad in Vanuatu is the opportunity to learn in everything you do. We typically begin every day that we spend away from the villa with a 20-minute or so bus ride into downtown.  During the journey, we have had the opportunity to meet so many different NiVans (locals) and even just local patrons who are  riding the same bus – and by bus I really mean van.  As we were leaving, the 3-year daughter of George, the villa groundskeeper, was clinging to someone and terribly upset and crying.  We learned that the man was her “Small Father” (or as we would say stateside, her uncle) and he was leaving. It is the little moments like this that open the authenticity of this experience. We learned that he is only on the island three months out of the year as he goes to Australia for the Odyssey Program (9 months out of the year he is over there picking fruit and such). This is just a small example of the culture we have merged into in just a simple daily thing we do. 

As we rode the bus into town to visit the Medium Security Centre, which also includes their high-security unit, someone made a joke about the eeriness of asking the bus to drop us off at prison, but I imagine it may be a more common request than we think.   

The facility was surrounded by barbed wire and there was a guard at the gate.  Once we were finally allowed to enter, we were taken to a small shed-like building with open windows where we met Principal (warden) Timothy, a new friend I think we are all grateful for. Here in Vanuatu, there are village chiefs and there are also courts. These two legal systems can work together. Timothy, the bloodline of a chief, is a very educated man. He went to school to be an accountant and while he worked at his office on the hill, he watched the cruise ships entering the port. He decided he wanted more and became a chef, allowing him to travel the world working on cruise ships. Eventually, he returned to Port Vila, Vanuatu, and joined the Corrections Department and worked his way from Officer to Principal. Timothy is close to retirement; he is currently 43 and will retire at 45. You could see his excitement about retiring, but also the pain of leaving behind his job. Timothy was very generous with his time - he answered all our quesitons in great detail. One very noteworthy thing to mention about Timothy is the eye contact he made with every single person in our group. Often, we have noticed men here will not make eye contact when speaking to the women of the group, but Timothy held eye contact allowing us to see the depths of kindness behind his eyes. 

The Vanuatu Criminal Justice System mirrors many components of the American Criminal Justice System, likely because they are both based on English Common Law. In Vanuatu, when an offense occurs, the court must issue a warrant for a perpetrator to be taken to the prison, where they remain until the investigation is complete. Once the investigation is complete, a person may get bond until their sentencing occurs. The courts use a database similar to the ones we have in the states that help calculate a sentence. Once the individual is sentenced, oversight and control of the perpetrator shifts from the court system to corrections. It is up to the Principal to decide when a person can move from medium security to lower security. 

Prisoners can apply for parole through the parliament parole (courts) or the presidential parole.  Both routes require the recommendation of the Principle.  In preparation for a parole hearing, correction officers closely watch inmates to determine whether they have truly changed their ways.  The parole and process for moving to lower security seems very similar. The Principal will talk to the members of the community including their pastor and chief to get a better idea of who the person was before they arrived at the facility. They will see if the offender takes responsibility for his offences and will usually consider the victim’s input. The Principal then decides whether they have really learned from what they did. That seems to be the theme and purpose of corrections in Vanuatu – giving them time to learn from what they did and truly change. While some people still believe that prisoner's can't truly change, one big difference from the American system is that there is no shaming here and they give offenders a chance in society again. For example, there is no sex offender registry for communities to see. 

There is recent legislation requiring juvenile offenders to be held separatly from offenders, but there's been no real progress in actually building a facility due to lack of funding.   The new legislation requres that anyone under 18 must be separated from adult -- even if they are only 2 months from turning 18. This is because it is really dangerous for juveniles to be mixed in with adults -- the majority of whom are sex offenders.  For juveniles, jail is the last option. The Court and villages will work together to try and teach the juveniles and whether they learn or reoffend determines whether they are on the prison pathway. Most juvenile offenders are those who do not live with their parents and often live with their grandparents. Most of the crimes that juveniles commit are theft crimes. There are more Gangs forming and graffiti has recently begun popping up.

There are currently 13 offenders in the high-security unit and about 57 in the medium-security unit.  Principle Timothy explained that 85-90% of the prison population has committed some type of sex offense, and about 50% of the time the victim was a family member. About 2% of the population is there for theft. The high-security unit no longer has toilets because inmates damaged them. The cells are metal shipping containers with latches on the outside to keep the inmates in. Our visit occurred during lunchtime and we were able to observe that process. For me, as an abolitionist to begin with, I felt uncomfortable watching the inmates during lunchtime. I watched as the guard unlatched one of the containers allowing one inmate at a time to run into the courtyard, grab their plate and run back to the cell. It reminded me of watching animals in a corral being released one by one for their grazing time – but unlike those animals who had the freedom to roam fields as they ate, the inmate had seconds to grab their plate and return to their airless metal box.  For me, this felt like observing animals in a cage and was such a sobering experience. In the States, I talk to clients in jail weekly who complain about the most trivial things – if they only knew what their life could be like during incarceration here.

Many of the inmates look to Principle Timothy like a father; in fact, that is what they call him. The “Timothy Way” of corrections consists of the idea that an inmate's time in his unit is to be isolated from the community to think about the wrongful acts committed and how to become a better person for their community. As Timothy talked with us you could see the compassion behind his telling eyes. Timothy implemented something his professor in school said “This is my kingdom; do not do what I do, but do what I say” a phrase that made him want to quit school. His father told him to learn what the lesson behind that phrase was and now it is something he uses himself. He believes rules are rules and gave an example that phone use occurs Monday and Friday and letting inmates use phones any other day teaches them nothing. Instead, he encourages the inmates to prepare themselves for when they can use the phone. It seems like Timothy does everything intentionally and believes in all of his decisions teaching a lesson thus, making him like a father. His philosophy is the time an inmate is sentenced is their time to truly change. Not all officers follow the “Timothy Way” as some believe the old fallacy “once a criminal always a criminal.” There are recidivism problems in Vanuatu which Timothy contributes to once they leave the facility they change and go back to the person they were before. Vanuatu does have a parole system which is often times heavily dependent on the chiefs and ministers of the villages. 

One big difference between Vanuatu prisons and American prisons is the ability to “check out”.  The  lower security facility is sometimes referred to as the "library" becuase, if you have the money, you are allowed toleave the facility to attend school – there was one inmate that got his master's because he was there for so long – or you can go home for a funeral. You must be able to pay your own way and pay for an officer to escort you. 

After Timothy showed us around, we were able to talk with George, the Senior Corrections Officer. George explained more about the inner workings of the facility. In his office, we were able to see the groupings of people in the medium security portion of the facility which currently has a population of 57 inmates, including one juvenile. George explained that they try to group people in cells according to share a language and will be able to understand each other. Oftentimes, because they may have brothers and uncles and people from the same villages, they will try to house them together in one cell. There is currently one ex-pat who resides at the facility in isolation because his culture is very different than all the other inmates. George told us the inmates typically eat a lot of chicken and rice or fish and rice. 

George talked to us more about why the phone usage is only two days per week.  He explained that inmates can purchase cell phones with their own money, but that the are not allowed to keep them in their cells -- instead, the facility keeps them an inmates are only given access to them twice a week.  Inmates used to be able to use their phones anytime they wanted, but because so many people were using their phones to plan escapes and talk to inmates in other facilities, phone access was reduced to  only two days per week. When an inmate escapes, the corrections officers have to stop what they are doing to find them. Now, when the inmate enters the facility, they get intake information so they know who they are and where they come from.  Now, when an inmate escapes, the officers talk to their chief and pastor before involving police, which usually works and the inmate is found in a few hours. Sometimes, the police do have to become involved. George explain that, in the past, officers often "tortured" escapees when they were captured.  However, now there is training in place to prevent that dynamic. 

Timothy was kind enough to escort us to the lower-level security center which was very different. We were able to meet the lower-level acting principal, Leslie. Leslie allowed us to tour the facility, which is currently home to 69 men. There was a bakery building where the inmates make fresh bread every day for their breakfast and a kitchen building that also has kitchen storage. 

The inmates were not confined to cells and instead are kept in an open setting with a courtyard in the middle and their cells which were open surrounding the courtyard. We were able to walk into the courtyard and shake hands with some inmates who we assumed were chiefs. One key difference I noticed is that many individuals were talking on their cell phones at this facility. The facilities try to give the inmates life skills and at the lower level facility they do woodworking and the inmates can make beautiful items. We saw a cabinet that one inmate made and will sell for money.

Next to the lower level center is the women’s center, which we did not visit but Timothy shared information about the operations. Currently, there are 5 women at the center; Timothy did not share their exact charges but said that women are often incarceraated for embezzlement, theft, abortion, and prostitution. Sometimes fathers will have to bring babies twice a day to the center to allow the mothers to breastfeed. 

After concluding the facility visits we were able to go off on our own and explore Vanuatu. I chose to explore downtown with my own ex-local tour guide, Professor Buske. We were able to check out many of the local shops and stopped into one of my favorite things I’ve encountered in Vanuatu, Jill’s café! Jill is an ex-pat who owns a popular cafe here which hosts a mini book shopm of used/dontaed books.  People can purchase books from the a bookshelf based on the honor system and the proceeds go towards helping a non-profit veterinarian. 

Following a quick tropical monsoon after a lovely day of exploring we all reconvened for “family dinner” over some delicious lentil soup. Every day at dinner we go around the table and everyone shares the high point of our day (mine was Jill’s books for dogs) and decompress all the things we learned. One nice thing about the villa (at least for me) are the random dogs that also enjoy the property. One dog typically joins us for family dinner, we named her Nala. 

This island has its beauty and the darkness that follows. Despite the copious amounts of daily violence against women and children, most locals smile and wave as we pass them on the roads.  I’m not sure how such beauty and violence cohabitate creating an island of true genuine smiles and laughter, but that is the magic behind the islands of Vanuatu.