IVD

“He was standing at the rock, gathering the flock…

And getting there with no directions,
And underneath the Arch, it turned into a march,
And there he found the spark- to set this f*kr off”
Set it off- Audioslave

IVD is, according to the UN, International Volunteer Day. In a nutshell, a moment to appreciate good people, with good intentions doing good things with often indefinable results, but darn it they do something…so bless them and bless the little children they’re helping (or the turtles, or the tourist association, or opposition guerrilla movements or whatever).

It is not to be confused with “I (might) have VD day”…which is an entirely different day commemorating the arrival of foreigners who bought strong daytime concepts of god, governance and morality, but rather looser evening codes around sleeping arrangements and hospitality.

...Imagine,  if you will, a lavalava (sarong) woven from a firm but slightly transparent moral fabric… but for some reason the little moral fabric knot at the waist seems to loosen independently, anytime someone smiles at you in a friendly kind of way and asks innocently “o a mai oe? e te fia ai?” (how you doin’…would you like something else?).
...“I (might) have VD day” is part of an important awareness campaign regarding what came next.*

Anyway, IVD day is different. So, Thanks UN. Thanks for thinking of volunteers.

Thanks also for Friday morning, when I stumbled out of bed and into the darkness at 5:30 filled with a sleepy kind-of do-gooding vigour,  to meet you in town to go for a bit of a volun-march.

I don’t dig parades…but hey, I said I’d help, and I get to watch the sun rise…

What time should I show up? Before 7:00? Sweet.

What time will we actually get walking on this march? Oh, it’s with the police…Cool. All the volunteer organisations, eh?...and the fire service, and red cross, and the yanks, and the aussies, and that italian chick, and the couple from Rotary, and the special Olympics crew…wow, sounds like a bash.
But, um,  roughly when does it start? The Police band do it every day, eh?
So when..? Ah, from the fire station around the Clock tower…um, ok.
But in terms of a starting time….um roughly when…do you think? Oh, because I, um, have to work.
Work where? Oh, well, I’m, um, volunteering…so I kind of feel like I should be at that job…oh, well, I guess it’s slightly inconvenient…but the march won’t take long will it?”

Sometime after 9 I was high stepping down what was by now a very sunny main street with the police band tooting and drumming, ahead of about 100 volunteers … casually watched by a crowd of about 30 mildly confused Samoans… holding one side of an “official” NZ flag borrowed for the occasion from the high commission…with a crew of just 3 (of a possible 18) VSA volunteers…and trying not to catch the eye of the commissioner who appeared to be smirking at something²…following a pack of 30 unjustifiably happy aussies, who had bowled up about 8:30…

I felt like an 8 year old on Anzac day tricked into public exposure and heat stress with the promise making granddad proud, and maybe an ice-cream if I don’t pass out… I began to wish I could just disappear into the cloud of sweatfunk emitting from my shirt and cap…or maybe even get to work and do some of that “volunteering” stuff that everyone seemed talking about.

Apparently they put on coffee and a free breakfast later…sometime after 10 (not sure if it was a.m or p.m)…

Lessons:

- time is a concept which has no place here, and time related questions are an odd thing to waste further time asking.
- I still don’t dig on parades.
 
* I (might) have VD…not really a day
² Her excellency the NZ High Commissioner put on a free bbq  around her pool and invited all of all of the VSA volunteers on Saturday night. She is a thoroughly lovely, down to earth hostess…needless to say the turnout was significantly stronger than the parade.