Do The Krip

“Cristina. Cristina.”

“Wanem?”

“Open the door plis”

“No, yu wantem tok wetem mi, yu save kam luk mi lo moning.”

“From wanem?”

“Wanem nem blo yu?”

… (silence)

“Wanem nem blo yu?! Yu tok wetem mi lo moning nomo. Ale?”

(Walks away, but I don’t hear any footsteps. I see the silouhette fade away slowly.)

That was the conversation I had with my latest kripa at 3:20am on my 4th full moon at site. He was very lucky I was already awake listening to music. Had I been sleeping, I wouldn’t have responded so calmly.

I was sitting on my bed with my earphones in, but sensed something off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I took my right earphone out and heard the sweet sound of a man whispering my name right against my window, which is literally inches from my bed. My heart began pounding fast, and so I took a few moments to calm her down, while the human continues whispering my name. You can’t have a shaky response in these situations, you must sound stern and confident like Demi Lovato says. Let him have it for almost giving me a heart attack and disturbing John Mayer’s Assassin. It’s a great song, that doesn’t deserve being paused for such rubish fasion. I have no idea who my night visitor was, and the funny thing is I’ll probably never find out. I’m sure I’ll pass him by every day, say good morning to him, even storian with him sometime, and never know he was the man that disrespected John Mayer and messed up my mood that night.

That was the 5th time I’ve been kriped on in this country, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. I don’t think it’s something you’ll get used to. Before you go on freaking out and writing off “these people,” don’t. Don’t be that guy. Let me explain what kriping is and why it happens. Though you may not like it, I sure don’t, I’ve experienced worse in America. I am from New York City after all.

Smart phones were introduced to Vanuatu in 2010. Can you believe it? I was probably on my 2nd phone then, and the people of this country were just learning what that was. Well not all of them, maybe just the city folk, the ones who could afford it and actually have service to use them. Can you remember how we communicated before your iPhone, IG, Facebook, the freaking internet? Yea, I barely do too. Dial-up and I were frenemies. My sisters suffered more with it though. (I’m not that old.) The people of Vanuatu have been using cell phones for less than 10 years. So how did they communicate? Land lines are not a thing here. So you have mailing letters and good old word of mouth.

 

What does communication have to do with the stranger outside my window not boomboxing Careless Whisper? 
It can all be summed up in one word: Courting. While in America, this kriping situation can easily be an immediate 911 call or a call to your cousin from down the block to come handle the fool; the fool in actuality may just be looking for love. Well, not exactly? It is a common practice for yungfella to come singout their Juliet s after the sunset. They come over in hopes Juliet comes out or invites him in to storian. This may or maybe not be code for physical activity on a, preferably, soft surface. Guess it depends on the humans involved. Before cell phones and internet, there’s the good old knocking on the front door and asking Juliet’s father to spend supervised time with his daughter. Somehow it evolved into this. With the introduction of cell phones to Vanuatu and time changing things, kriping has reduced, but still happens. Upon my arrival, one of the first things my host dad, Chief of our tribe, warned the community was that certain practices they have here are very different to the “white man.” (That would be me. Ha. If only America saw my people as white man too, well, history would be so very different.) Three weeks later, he made an announcement at church that kriping the Pis Kop is not acceptable and whoever is the perpetrator will be fined for trespassing on school grounds. And here we are again. I think I’ll skip the church announcement this time. You can’t imagine how awkward it is to have the entire village turn around and look at your reaction, towards the end of an already too long 3-hour church service in the heat. No thank you!

I always wondered what the success rate of kriping is. Does it actually work? Juliet could be opening the door to Freddy-freaking-Kouger himself. Nonetheless, I feel safe in my village and school compound, even though I sleep with my bush knaef next to my bed every night. (For my Dominicans, that’s my machete.) You can never be too careful. I won’t open the door even if it’s a Melanesian Jason Mamoa, which would hurt my soul, but c’mon grow a pair of ovaries and come storian during the day time. Ever listened to the Lonely Island’s Do the Creep featuring Nicki Minaj? Very fitting song. Also, watch the video, you’ll thank me later.
Until the next krip … will he be T-Rexing?