| NOVEMBER ’03 |
| click any thumbnail to see it bigger
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| KIRIBATI |
| 10 | University of the South Pacific Centre, Tarawa |
| 11-13 | Kids on the bus |
| 14-15 | Tarawa Atoll from the air |
| MARSHALL ISLANDS |
| 16-45 | Marshall Islands |
| 16-17 | The nice beach at the end of the island. I saw a shark snorkeling! |
| 18-26 | In town |
| 19 | Tane's store |
| 20 | Devin's Lucky Store |
| 22 | Marshalese girls |
| 23 | Smiling Frenchman, in hat (my compatriot in Marshalls) |
| 25 | Yokwe means hi |
| 27 | This was on a t-shirt (why didn't I buy it?) |
| 28 | Rainy morning from my window |
| 29 | I took this from inside the USP Centre |
| 30-34 | Trippy kids television on the station from Guam |
| 30 | How do you relate gas volume to a concert hall or a theater? |
| 32 | Cow |
| 33 | Horses |
| 34 | Gases sustain life (so bomb Iraq, okay kiddies) |
| 37-39 | Painted on the wall at my hotel |
| 40-42 | Manekins in the Marshalls |
| BACK TO KIRIBATI |
| 46 | Air Kiribati |
| 51-54 | A wedding in Kiribati |
| NEW ZEALAND |
| 57 | Mail by the lamp in the house where I stayed in Aukland |
| 58 | Light, a reflection, and a window at a gallery in Aukland |
| 59 | Closeup at some store |
| 64 | Che-esque woman. The tear (rip) works like a tear (drop). |
| 65 | Owen |
| 65 | Me |
| 67 | Poster |
| 68-69 | Sidewalk |
| 70 | Medieval? |
| 71 | Pipi Longstocking lighting up |
| AND BACK HOME TO FIJI |
| 73 | The random, skittish kitten accepting milk |
| 74-77 | Drawings of what it feels like to lose my sister |
| A FEW MORE OF KIRIBATI |
| 78 | The house I stayed in at Kiribati |
| 79 | Nest to the house I stayed in at Kiribati |
| 83-85 | Inside the USP Centre |
| 86 | The bujses go very fast in Tarawa |
| 67 | The satelite dish that bring the internet to USP in Kiribati
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| THE MONTH IN SUMMARY |
| In November, I went to Kiribati, the Marshall Islands, and New Zealand. Kiribati and the Marshalls for work, and New Zealand for a jetset weekend in Aukland gallery and bar hopping, and hiking in the rain and swimming in the cold and eating delish mussels and beer and that guy with the feathers was a great gallery guide and thank you owen and my host (best of luck in south island).
The main island of Kiribati (Tarawa) is a 100 metre wide dune of sand with one road running for much of its horshoe length, along which vans hurtle blaring tinny, falsetto, Gilbertese covers of US pop songs. The ocean is the most aqua I have ever seen, and floats with colorful confetti that turned out to be nappies. The dogs are even worse than Nauru. I had a beautiful time walking up the northern bit of Tarawa, through villages that could have been in Africa, down a quiet sandy road, through coconut plantations. Breeze. Swoosh. Breathe. But quite a smelly place.
So I splurged for the most expensive place in town in the Marshalls, and used a stairmaster while watching kids tv every morning before work. As I stepped off the plane on my last leg of what has been a strange, lonely, and useful tour, I saw none other than Fabrice, my culinary frenchman.
Most evenings we drank beer and watched sumo wrestling on TV, and rented a car and went snorkeling all weekend. He ordered Bernaise and was shocked to be given some sort of Bernaise Sauce powder mixed with mayonaise. We saw Kill Bill and were interupted in the midst of a pretend samurai sowrdfight in the parking lot by a colorful cacacophy of green and red and blue and yellow refracted off a many-faceted mirrored building. We followed the reflection to an insane sunset, while a guy played Ukelele (really) and garbage washed up on the shore by our feet.
I saw a shark while snorkeling, a met a hotel manager who's method for insuring business was to make sure prostitutes hung out in his bar.
I already told you about new zealand. I flew in Friday night and returned Monday morning. I saw some great art, ate some great food, and had a pleasant, gently stoned hike through the rain. The house I stayed at was charming, as were my hosts and friends. I don't use the word charming often.
On the plane to Nauru a month earlier I had drawn picture of what it felt like for Alyssa to die, but somehow they managed in this "roll" of digital film.
Next month is December. I think I'll be in Fiji for a while now.
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