Swearing in yesterday was a major success. We all thoroughly enjoyed it and made it short, to the point and there was time to have a shell of Kava before the sunset. We got to play our string band song present salu-salu's (Bislama term for Lei), to our host parents.
I've never cried so much in my life as I have in the Peace Corps training! I cried leaving my family at the airport in the U.S. in Denver, and now I've been crying with my host family now that I have to leave them (and relive the experience of leaving Mom, Dad and Anne, while sobbing on the cell phone to Kath, in the US. As we left the training village today (moved out for good) we all had tears welling in our eyes as the whole village lined up and shook our hands before the buses left.
The day of swearing in I made french toast for my host family on the kitchen fire with the cinnamon that my Mom sent me in a package. My host dad's eyes welled up as he thanked my and told me he was touched that I made it for the whole family (the ladies eat in the kitchen on the crushed coral floor and me and my host dad and/or brother eat at the table). The tears came as he let me know I was like one of his own sons, which means a lot and I know is true because they have adopted two boys and a girl that they raised with their five other children. Although his family is mostly grown, my host dad and mom, his youngest son (Raynold 23), youngest daughter (Leatu 25) and her three children all enjoyed french toast with coconut jam (no gat maple syrup) and peanut butter. We all cried and struggled to wipe the wet lashes and dripping noses, but the leaks were unstoppable.