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After having spent Christmas morning in the Anglican Church of Aver my thoughts are circling around the churches influence on the people here. Somehow I can only see the negative side and it leaves a lingering sadness on my tongue that doesn’t want to vanish. Part two.

5 weeks I spent on an island called GAUA. A wild, strong, spiritual island. It became home. This is a DREAM.

Pigs traditionally have an important role in Vanuatu’s kastom system. They are one of the few animals that have not been imported by the Europeans. A poem for these wonderful animals.

On a sunny morning the community of Bravet kill a big, white cow to sell the meat. Very colourful meat.

With a head full of thoughts about missionaries and sinners I find the way to my hammock. My belly is once again full with grey juice and some maniok. Sleep envelops me soon after I lie down. No dreams come to me on this night. Only heavy ideas and a deep satisfaction...

On the first day of the new year I find myself sitting on a beautiful dead tree in front of a 120m high waterfall that celebrates a new beginning with me. I feel. I understand.

A children’s song heard in Musina Village on Vanua Lava.

Domestic violence is a present issue in many countries around the world. In Vanuatu many women, children and animals are subjected to violence on the daily basis. And they stay. They find a way to deal with it, to accept it and to still smile.

Die Geschichte einer Beerdigung. Der kühle Wind streicht über meine schweißnasse Stirn. Der metallische Gesang tost in ohrenbetäubenden Wellen über die Grabeswüste. Klagende Wogen, den Verlust der Mutter und den Schmerz der Hinterbliebenen besingend, verhallen im...

Over centuries the idea of a white supremacy has been enforced and manifested through colonialism in the now so called “developing countries”. But these global roles are ancient and wrong. Ideas about people that deserve real admiration for a forgotten strength.