PB #23 Solomon Islands

I spent most of February through May, 2009 in the Solomon Islands where I helped with the set up of a new truth and reconciliation commission. In addition to that substantive work, I helped set up ICTJ’s office there, hired staff, and did my best to figure out living in a new place with new sets of cultural norms, a new language, and new people.

In mid-June, I ended my Solomon Islands gig, taking a leap of faith that money for the next stage of our work on Burma would come through. I spent the last two months in the U.S. tying up some lose ends, pushing forward on getting funding, and taking a bit of a break. Just this week, I received official confirmation that funding has been approved for our Burma work, so I’ll be back in Chiang Mai to start that work in September.

I’ll be staying with ICTJ’s Asia team, which means I may have an opportunity to return to the Solomon Islands for short-term work. I hope so – it was a fascinating place to be and for all the professional challenges, or maybe because of them, I became fast friends with co-workers and a crew of Aussies and Kiwis doing similar work there.















The Solomon Islands is a country of about a half million people. It is composed of nearly one thousand islands. The 1998-2003 conflict was primarily between people of the largest island – Guadalcanal – and the most populous – Malaita. This is the view of one of the islands during the plane ride in from Brisbane.



















Until I found housing, I stayed in the King Solomon Hotel, which is built into a hillside and so has this diagonal outdoor trolley to get guests up and down to our rooms.
















The capital, Honiara, is on the island of Guadalcanal. Outside of the five mile radius of Honiara, there is only one paved road that runs along the north coast of the island. The whole country (with the exception of Honiara, which is a port city) is stunningly beautiful. This is the road out of town.

Most of the beaches on Guadalcanal are rocky (which my tender feet did not appreciate), but there is one sandy beach here.

Each time I have moved in my adult life, it has been to a city (Houston, DC, Chiang Mai, and then Honiara) where I didn’t know anyone. I was uncharacteristically subdued during my first three weeks there, but I was generously welcomed into a very fun set of friends. Jeremy, who has uncanny skill in bringing people together, took me under his wing immediately, offered me a room in his house, and his friends became my friends. I was so unsure of myself in this new setting and this group of friends smoothed that initial discomfort. Here’s the house I lived in with Jeremy for several months, and the wicker chairs I spent every morning on writing my “morning pages."

We hosted some dinners, had a couple of movie nights, and even a salsa-lessons night that devolved into just artistic “movement” … not sure I would even call it dancing. But it was a a heap of fun.

I was fascinated by the hair styles and so took a few photos of people doing fun and exciting things with their lids. This guy was at the beach and was more than happy to show off his curly locks.

This is the son of a co-worker. A few days after I took this photo, his teacher complained that his wild hair was not suitable for the order needed in the classroom and made him shave it all off. So sad.

This guy worked at the local convenience store. He said it only took about 15 minutes to rock this look.

South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu visited the Solomon Islands to help launch the Truth & Reconciliation Commission. He was welcomed at the airport by a traditional warrior challenge.

This warrior is issuing a challenge to the airplane as it arrives. I think he has his work cut out for him.

Archbishop Tutu lived up to his reputation as an inspiring, cheeky, hilarious, and loving icon of justice and compassion. I was able to talk with him only briefly.

The night before the ceremony launching the Truth & Reconciliation Commission, some co-workers and I donned our Tutu-t-shirts and traditional grass skirts, working late into the night to be sure everything was ready.

The Solomon Islands is a small country and Honiara does not offer a wide range of options for entertainment. One of the great things about the group of friends there, and of the lessons I took away, was the pleasure of making our own fun. A group of us gathered a few times to jam. Or strum haltingly is more like it.

Most Westerners live in houses with security guards, and when I housesat for Kate, I got to be friends with some of the guards at her house.

For my birthday in May, ten of us went out on a catamaran to watch the sun go down, have drinks and snacks, and swim under the moon and stars. It was perfect.

It was at this party that I learned that I was “the American” in the crowd. My nationality is not usually a very big part of my identity, but since there are not many of us there it was how people knew me. And celebrated me.

After drinks and swimming and cake, we posed for a group photo.

Jeremy, who also goes by Jez, left his job to head off for a three-month trip to South America. His goodbye party brought together lots of people – his co-workers, a group of tri-athletes, lots of ex-pats, and people from a nearby village where Jeremy is helping set up a home-stay program. A bunch of us composed a tribute song and sported our “Joy of Jez” t-shirts.

One of the village leaders and I bonded.

One of the things that I struggled with during my time there was the distance between locals and ex-pats – economic, cultural, social, etc.. This party was one of the few events where the different groups seems to blend together.

The sunset views, particularly from the porch of Kate’s house, were always fantastic.

I ended up with very mixed feelings the week I said goodbye in June. I had worked really hard and needed a break, but I would have liked to have spent some more time there. Ultimately, I decided not to stay. There was such a huge learning curve to understand the politics and cultures of the Solomon Islands, and I knew that two or more years away from Burma work would not be something I wanted, and I also knew the nature of the work and the isolation of the Solomons would make it difficult for me to get back to the U.S. as frequently as I want to. My friends there gave me a hard time for leaving, but also made me feel so good about the time I had there and gave me a send-off to remember, including a quick sip of mid-afternoon Polish vodka at the New Zealand High Commission.