So I need to catch everyone up on a lot! Sorry I have been putting off finishing this blog for a while. I guess that’s a good sign of being more present here in Weno. Regardless a lot has gone on in the semester that’s worth sharing. I think I know where to start…It all started one ordinary Wednesday- it was a lab day, which meant that I started extra early to prep the lab with all of the equipment that would be needed by the students that day. I had forgotten that the last lab day I had left early for a volleyball game and had one of the new volunteers substitute, therefore some of the materials were left out. Never trusting that things that have been left out are clean, I walked over to the wash bucket that is typically poured out after each lab. There was still soapy-looking water in the bucket, so while it crossed my mind to get fresh water, I justified that it wasn’t necessary since there were only a couple things to wash – especially since this was during the dead of the dry season and the main building and the lab had run out of running water. Otherwise, I would have had to go to the other end of campus to carry rain water. So I threw in a couple of beakers and stuck my hand in the get them. Unfortunately, the first thing I grabbed felt furry and squishy – obviously not a glass beaker. My first thought was, “what did the students put in here?” So as I poured out some of the water, I was immediately nauseated by the pungent smell of the water, and then my worst nightmare came true. I saw the tail and the hind leg and almost vomited. I had accidentally picked up a dead rat! Ugh! The thought, even still weeks later gives me the chills. Maybe I was traumatized. I immediately doused my hand with soap but of course there was no water to clean off the soap .So I walked out, probably looking as if I had seen a ghost or something supernatural, because all of the students realized there was something wrong. I told them what happened and how disgusted I was. The girls thought it was disgusting also. Most of the boys laughed, but actually later came to help dispose of the rat. Let’s just say I spent about an hour that day bleaching the lab. Meanwhile, a couple students continued to tease me I would catch some horrible disease. Well, that day set me up for the next rat experiences.
As I mentioned, some of the boys were entertained by my disliking for rats so a couple days later, I walked into class after one of the junior boys “warned” me that they were starting a prank war with me. There was a box of chocolates sitting on my desk. So I lifted the top and inside was a dead rat, bleeding from its mouth. Well, at least this one was easier to dispose. I guess my reaction wasn’t good enough for them so a couple days later, there was a brown paper bag with my name on it in the lab. The girls were pointing with worried looks so I knew something was off base. Next thing I knew, the bag tipped over a live rat crawled out. I jumped back and one of the boys (the one who had previously warned me about the prank war) came to “the rescue,” throwing a textbook on the rat. Blood started to ooze from its mouth. While they enjoy my initial reaction, after the rat was dead, they could tell I was not so happy. I sent a student to go get some bleach. The next day a bunch of the students complained when they walked into class because they said it smelled like poop. I agreed it smelled pretty putrid, but playing the teacher role, I just settled everyone down to start class. Within a couple of minutes I discovered a dead frog in a box at the front of the class. The rats, well, they actually live inside the lab, but the frog was more than an intentional setup. Let’s just say I told the student responsible that if he brought me one more dead animal, I would report him. It has been over a month now and no more dead animals so I guess in some ways I won the “prank war.
In the middle of February, I set out to Pisar with the 3 new Australian volunteers and 2 volunteers from Saramen, plus a visiting mom and grandma. We intended on leaving between 8-9 am to try and avoid the rising tides and windy current, but working on Micronesian time, we left at least an hour late. I noticed shortly after heading out that the boat ride was more rough than previous boat rides I had been on, but still thought little of it. We seemed to be traveling at a decent pace, and while my butt was continuously being slammed into the boat deck, I was not quite drenched yet. Rather, I was casually laughing at the reactions of the new volunteers as the swells from the water poured onto them- they happened to be sitting in the unpredictably “unlucky” seats. Within a couple of minutes, the driver stopped and consulted in Chuukese with his relatives, mutually deciding to detour slightly to avoid hitting the current straight on. Then we took a pit stop at another island, when our drivers switched. I guess the first driver wasn’t up for the drive- it wasn’t a smooth ride so it required more concentration, liking driving a car during a hurricane. We proceeded for about another couple hundred meters before a huge swell crashed over the boat drenching everyone. Within a minute, the driver stopped at communicated that it was becoming dangerous and we should not go any farther towards Pisar. As we got farther out into the lagoon, the swells would only get worse. So we decided to turn around. We stopped again at a small island and began to converse what the best course of action would be. Ignoring the possible disappointment people felt at that point, we decided to take our odds at visiting Eooaan, the “Bishop’s Island.” Essentially the land is owned by the Catholic church and we had not spoken to any of the local priests before going so we were skeptical if it was appropriate to just show up at an island that is typically reserved for retreats. We went to the island and nobody was there. Sometimes someone stays to do upkeep. So luckily someone was able to get a cell phone signal and got a hold of the Bishop’s office, and he granted us permission. We decided we would stay for the night and get picked up the following day. It was somewhat of an adventure- a little more of a rugged setup, we started to joke about how bad this could turn out since none of us had a cell phone and technically nobody at Xavier knew where we were. Either way we enjoyed a fresh cut watermelon that one of the new volunteers cut off a vine, not knowing that taking food one someone else’s land is very frowned upon here and thought of as stealing. In some ways, ignorance is bliss. We walked around the whole island collecting shells and enjoying conversation. The other side of the island was remarkably beautiful. Rocks jutted out of the water and the sun reflected off the water. The view of the other islands in the distance made a beautiful backdrop and my pictures do not do a justice to how wonderful it was. We taught the new Australians how to play mafia and we all learned a little about each other. That night we learned why people say Eooan is the island of the mosquitos. They were pretty unfriendly during the night & poor Joe’s feet almost looked speckled by the next morning. It was until the following afternoon that it started to feel as if maybe we were playing “gilligan’s Island.” After lunch we started cleaning up and waiting for our driver to show up. Well, 2:30 came and went…so did 3:00, 3:30, 4:00…and I knew everyone was thinking it, but nobody wanted to say it. Were we going to end up stranded on Eooan? Only our ride knew we were here. We had no more food and almost no more water. We wanted patiently, hoping that our ride was just running on Micronesian time. Well, finally more than 2 hours after our scheduled departure, the boat came. Relief! Another night on Eooan wouldn’t have been so bad, but I think people would have started to get cranky without food, water, or any real knowledge of how we were going to get back. Well, I didn’t mention before, but I always felt iffy about this trip. I debated going the week prior and was very close to staying home. At first I thought my intuitions were because of the rocky ride there, then I wondered if it was because of the worry over the ride home, but I was so naïve. The reason I had a bad intuition was really because of what happened after I stepped foot back on Weno. As I was stepping out of the boat (it’s usually more comfortable to take off sandals on a boat when you are cramped together), I stepped backwards without looking. There was about a foot wide region cut out of the dock that I didn’t notice. So as I started to stumble, which if you know we well you know I love to do, my foot felt for the next part of land. The boat driver held out his hand. I grabbed it, throwing me even more off balance. Unfortunately the first thing my foot reached was a piece of twisted rusted rebar sticking out of the dock. As I fell backward, the rebar jabbed into the bottom of my foot, puncturing it pretty good and deep. For as many times as I have fallen, I would have to say that this was the most pain I have been in since I got my face bashed in when I was in 8th grade taking a foul ball to the mouth. I could not walk since the heel of my foot had blood gushing from the bottom of it so two people supported me as I limped across the street to my friends’ apartment. Of course this had to happen right as Mass was getting out on Sunday night so as I staggered across the Church parking lot, I saw people pointing and looking at me with glares of disgust. The girl supporting me told me she heard one group comment on how drunk I must have been. Great! Of course, that’s exactly what was wrong! (Complete sarcasm if you can’t tell). As if drinking and drunkenness were not already stigmatized enough in Weno. But, of course that’s not what I cared about at that point in time - I was in so much pain that I just wanted to make it inside. So I screamed a little in agony and maybe shed 2 tears, but ended up on crutches for 2 weeks and off running for a month. Now I know why my intuition was trying to keep me home. Looking back, Eooan was still worth it.
So for about half the volleyball season I was confined to crutches – even still I really enjoyed the experiences coaching. My team came out with a winning season, and I think ended 3rd in the league of say, 6 or 7 teams. Oh how quickly did I realize that a high school sport in Micronesia is nothing like the high school sports I played in high school. We would practice an average of about 30 minutes a day, in comparison to the 2-3 hour practices I would have in high school. And while I came prepared with a list of practice drills, those quickly went out the window for the most part. All in all, the girls had fun, which is all that matters. We had the opportunity to order jerseys, which rarely happens for these kids, so it was really a big deal – even though they arrived well after our 3 weeks of games ended. Our end of the year party consisted of watching Juno, 2 pizzas, a bag of fries, chips and soda (for 15 girls) but somehow everyone ended up full. It was like the loaves and the fish I guess.
In mid-March, I helped lead the freshmen Community Service Project on Weno. While the album of pictures I just sent out just a few pictures from this, there should be more to come. All of the freshmen (about 50 students) stayed with host families from one village, provided entertainment for them on one night, and spent a day cleaning the local public elementary school. I stayed in one of the host families with 2 female students. I really enjoyed the experience, even though my abilities with Chuukese left conversation limited for the most part. But I learned how to make Chuukese donuts, which was pretty cool. It was also nice to spend some time with a family that I see every weekend at Mass, but have little communication with beyond that. The first night, since it hadn’t rained in a couple weeks, we had to walk a block or so to the village well to shower. Well, I guess the girls were in for a surprise when this happened. One of them, while ethnically Chuukese, actually grew up in Hawaii, and I would imagine has experienced a fair amount of culture shock living in Weno, while the other I imagine is from a wealthier family in Chuuk based on her reaction to this experience. When we got there, to the well with the bucket that is. Our host retrieved a bucket full of water for the 3 of us to shower and offered to hold our clothes. However, there was absolutely no privacy. The bucket sat on the edge of a path, which people occasionally walked past, and a group of men sat outside conversing at the top of the path. The girls were convinced the men were watching us, so I had to play the confident teacher card and convince them they weren’t. One of the girls eventually turned to me and in a desperate voice said, “Ms. Steph, I just can’t shower naked.” So I handed her my skirt and took one for the team. I must say it was a little awkward showering naked in front of 2 students, but I guess they were more concerned with other people watching them and grateful for the skirt than with the fact that I was with them. It was pitch black and by the reaction of our hosts, I imagine that, to the locals, us showering there just wasn’t a big deal.
The entertainment night was excellent. The students prepared 6 dances and then the village and our students held a dance-off. I was so impressed by these kids dancing abilities. I swear one of our junior students could be a professional break-dancer (if those exist). He just blew everyone away.
Two weekends ago was the big annual track and field competition. Since there are not really any college competitions for athletics in Micronesia, this is one of the competitions used to narrow down runners to potentially send to international competitions. My host brother actually won the 100-meter dash and will be heading to Germany in the summer – a great opportunity for him. The events included 1-mile relays, a “marathon” (a 6 mile run for the girls and a 12 mile run for the boys), and a whole host of other relays and sprints. I would venture to say that this might be the only place where a track and field competition includes a coconut husking and basket weaving competition, both of which were very exciting and competitive events. Could you believe that girls could weave a basket out of coconut leaves in less than two minutes? The students had a half-day on Thursday and no school on Friday. Then the principal treated everyone for their notable sportsmanship with a “free day” on Monday. I.e. CLASSES CANCELLED! I think the teachers liked this surprise as much as the students. The whole school has been practicing during “free time” (4:15-5:00) everyday since the end of February since the majority of the students in the school had to participate in the races. Even still a lot of students were not physically prepared for the mid-day heat here (who could be?). Many people fainted – literally collapsed right before finish lines or right after - and even one of our students was sent to the hospital for heat exhaustion or heat stroke. The marathon started at 5 am to avoid such heat. But in the end it was a super exciting day. With lots of cheering, jumping up and down, and eventually, sore voices. While it was a long day, I now see why the students get so excited about it. I won’t lie – I think the staff relay was one of the more exciting relays of the day. I started for our team (a relay of 8 runners- 4 male, 4 female). When I tossed the baton, we were in second…but then one of our runners fell and another dropped the baton, putting us in last. Our last 2 runners, Meg and Joe, “really chased big time” as the students would say and our one competitor fell right before the finish line giving us first place. The students were roaring with excitement. And actually our win gave us enough points to put our school in 3rd place. It was a great almost-ending to the day.
I recently decided where I would be for the summer. I had a couple of options to go to “more remote” islands, but I decided to stay on Weno with my host family in Penia. I figured that if I went elsewhere there would be just enough time to overcome feeling awkward before I would be leaving again. It just made sense to stay where I have already developed some relationships. So I may still go to another island for about a week, but for the rest of the summer, I will be staying on Weno, most likely teaching math and English. Plus a couple of my host cousins asked me to stay to compete in their village volleyball and running teams over the summer. I can’t tell you how good they have been to me here so far. In fact, my host mom said something to me last weekend that really struck me. I can’t remember exactly how it came up, but it had something to do with my brother living in Haiti. She commented that people think Chuukese are poor, but they just don’t understand our life. She said, “We are rich. We are rich in natural resources. We have the sea, filled with fish. We have our land, filled with breadfruit, taro, and coconut. Nobody goes hungry here.” It just made me think about how different people perceive poverty differently. What is poverty anyway? Can it be socially constructed? I continue to be thrown by some of these questions, going back to my back a ways back about the perceptions of needs and wants. Just some things to think about -
So I guess to end I’ll leave you with something one of my students said to me recently that made me laugh. One of my sophomores came to me asking for an extra copy of a study guide. In an effort to instill responsibility, I gave him a skeptical look and asked, “Why?” He said he didn’t get one, but knowing that was not true, I told him I knew he got one. He succumbed to me and said, “Ms. Steph, it cursed me. I swear. My paper cursed me I had to tear it up.” Well, if anything, he worked hard for that excuse.
So sorry I am a slacker in writing these more regularly and instead just write novels when I finally sit down to do it. I hope you enjoyed anyway. As always, I miss you all and hope everything is going well as you are beginning to get some nicer, warm weather. GRADUATION IS IN THREE WEEKS! And then I am basically a year in!! Crazy! Peace.
-Steph
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