PWA PWA BIRTHDAY MOM!

Happy Birthday to one of the most special people in the world. I love you!
-Steph
P.S. Happy early birthday to Ruby too!

2nd Semester in a nutshell

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 8^th 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 3^rd 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 3^rd 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

Natural Pearl

It’s not uncommon that I don’t know what is necessarily going on when I am visiting my host family. I sometimes follow along and smile, even though I am clueless as to what is being planned or discussed. Well, here’s an example where I wish I knew what was happening. My host mom had asked me to visit last Sunday and I was trying to avoid doing any real work anyway after hearing some not so fun news from home, so I headed down to Penia. The children down in Penia always make me laugh, relax, and bring me back to the good old days of innocent fun. Well, a particular boy down in Penia has been trying to talk to me a lot recently. He doesn’t speak much English and I don’t speak much Chuukese- you can imagine how far our conversations go. I met some of the girls that I typically visit and they invited me inside their meeting house. They looked excited, more excited than normal, but I just smiled back knowing I could not actually communicate much with them. They looked as if they were waiting for something so I just sat Indian-style on the tile floor and waited. I remember being very uncomfortable, now that we are starting Chuukese “summer” (as if it isn’t summer all the time). Eventually more cousins showed up, including the particular boy. People started singing in Chuukese, which is also fairly common and no reason to become suspicious. So I hummed along not really knowing the words, smiling back at forth and occasionally playing peek-a-boo with the identical twins in my host family. After about 10 minutes, one of the girls stood up and directed me to follow. So I got up and walked behind her towards the front of the meeting house. They pulled out a plastic chair and had me sit in it. This seems to always happen- and it still makes me feel as uncomfortable as it did the very first time it happened. Everyone around me remained on the floor and I was granted a chair as if I am royalty. I sat down and within a couple minutes the boy that seems to want to make smile talk approached. He first handed me a couple unripe mangos- a great treat. I graciously accepted with a smile, responding “Kinisou chapur” (thank you very much). At this point I did not feel as if I was the center of attention to anyone except maybe this certain someone. Then he pulled what looked like local rope from his pocket. He held it out to me and as normal, I accepted. Once I held it in my hand, I looked at it more closely and noticed that it was woven coconut husk with some sort of stone. It was a natural pearl- beautiful and probably very expensive, with a natural, but unpolished shine. I immediately felt awkward wondering if I should have accepted it after all. He motioned that he wanted to tie it to my wrist, so knowing that it is rude here to decline offers of hospitality and gifts, I allowed him. As he cautiously tied the rope around my left wrist and spoke words I did not understand. I smiled and nodded out of ignorance and people around me smiled and cheered Micronesian-style. It was only moments later that I realized that I had just promised myself for marriage i.e. was basically engaged. So I have made some cultural faux pas before, but at this point, all I could think about was how I was going to get myself out of this one. Obviously I could pull the dumb American card, but I have a feeling that would come with more consequences this time. So I actually have done nothing about this yet. I had to leave Penia before it became dark and I didn’t even want to attempt to explain myself and end up “running out of time.” So technically right now I have a Chuukese husband to-be. And while “our” conversations may only be a few sentences so far, I have a long supply of mangos and coconuts coming my way, as well as a beautiful pearl bracelet. I hope you sense my sarcasm. Anyways, if any of you have any thoughts on what I should do let me know. As smart as I am, I was dumb enough to get myself into this one so I hope you enjoyed my April Fool’s! It isn’t quite as good as the cockroach eggs in my skin, but I was lacking creativity! I thought about breaking my leg and heading to Guam but I didn’t want to jinx myself either….

I didn’t think it was too far fetched to get engaged without knowing it. I actually worried this might somehow happen- it kind of did to another volunteer in real life. So that’s a story to tell sometime. As for me I did play a couple April fools jokes today. I gave an April fool’s quiz in Chemistry. It had very difficult questions but in the format of what we had been studying (Lewis Dot Structures and Molecular Shapes). The directions included reading through the whole quiz. Of course, the last line mentioned to “Raise your hand silently to ask a question with only your name written at the top to receive an extra credit point and the real quiz.” Well 29 out of 31 students got it. 2 were fooled! One kept getting frustrated as he would raise his hand and say, “Ms. Steph, this is too hard. You didn’t teach this.” Then, he would turn his paper over and start drawing. I proceeded to turn his paper back over and tell him to read the directions. This probably happened at least 6 times. Meanwhile giggles came from the other students and he still had no clue. Another student found the first quiz “fun” since the problems were intense. This is the same student that inquired about the string theory earlier in the year, a theory related to advanced quantum physics. Needless to say, both laughed a slightly frustrated laugh when I pointed it out to them with a little more hints.

The students are always inquiring about the faculty’s “boyfriends” or “girlfriends.” They make up that certain individuals are dating, even though nobody is, but of course they enjoy starting drama. So I asked if they wanted to see a picture of my fiancée and I told them he proposed yesterday, pointing out that it would have been 2 days before April Fool’s. (I picked someone who is attractive and already known as “a friend of mine” by the students.) They screamed, ran up to my desk and started railroading me with questions. I guessed I tested my lying skills because only a couple thought it was actually an April Fool’s joke. The other’s were asking if they could go to the wedding and what was the date. The best line of the day came when one student asked for a copy of his picture. My response was, “No, I’m not giving you a picture so you can idolize my fiancée!” Now, even the ones who thought I might be fibbing turned the corner. The classes ended with girls begging to have a picture of him and actually one girl stealing the picture and running out of class with it. She eventually returned it and then I quietly whispered in her ear, “April Fool’s!” She stomped her foot and said, “Can I still have his picture?” Oh, high school students.

I hope you all had some innocent fun as well this April Fool’s….Don’t worry I am not going to marry a Micronesian T (well probably….hehe). Miss you. Peace
-Steph

Random thoughts

Hello everyone! I have been trying to complete this blog for weeks now, and it seems that every time I come back to it I have to edit it because it is outdated, so sorry about the delay. Enjoy!

…

Teaching and grading student work can be tedious at times, but every once and a while, students provide some comic relief to keep you going. I thought I would share some with you. The first response was a reflection of a junior after being introduced to the nuclear bomb testing that took place in the Marshall Islands post-WW2. The second response was by a sophomore on a recent Biology test.

“I think that the U.S. used propaganda to make the people of Bikini agree with them and leave their island. For the U.S. president, I can’t believe that he agreed to something like that. I wonder how he would feel if Micronesians came to the White House and told him to leave so they could test a black magic that they just came up with. I don’t think he would like it one bit.” -junior

Extra Credit: “What is a carcinogen?” (1 point)

“I think its that thing you know with the connecting that makes the thing and the thing and is caused by something or someone somewhere. Something like that. Or its that product in cigarettes, or nicotine.” -sophomore

I hope that brought a smile to your face. If not, maybe such is appreciated more once you have already read 30 reflections!

As for me, I’m doing well. I was lucky to have escaped the bacterial infection that about half the staff at Xavier is suffering right now from an iffy batch of tuba, a sweet drink typically made in Yap out of the sap of a coconut. Let’s just say, bowel movement has been a pretty open conversation among the staff recently. We just wrapped up the first half of the third quarter (Can you believe it?!). and the annual Catholic School’s Week. We celebrated Mass and games with the other 2 Catholic schools on island on Monday, held an all-school spelling bee on Tuesday, had a student exchange with the other schools on Wednesday, had a Math Competition on Thursday, and an Open Mic event on Friday! Are you tired yet? Because I am! Among all of that, we squeezed in volleyball try-outs somewhere. I am really excited to be coaching the girl’s team. We have some excellent talent, even though few of the players have ever had any formal training. Although the “season” is a mere 3.5 weeks, I am excited to be able to lead such with the girls and am contemplating starting a club to run year-round next year. Last Wednesday was our first game, and we won!! Unlike what I am used to at home, the girls expect that everyone on the team will play, including the starting players. It makes my job easy- the play is competitive, but the players on the team treat one another as team members. Geh, who would have thought?

A lot has happened since New Years. A couple weekends ago I had the opportunity to go to Fefan, another island within the Chuuk lagoon, to help administer the Xavier entrance exam to middle school students. Although I was only in Fefan for about 24 hours, I took a lot of insight from my experience there. Fefan is one of the less developed islands in the lagoon with no public power. Living in Chuuk is a constant learning experience for me, and being in Fefan gave me a small chance to get away from the chaos and think. Recently I have found myself thinking often about the differing cross-cultural perceptions of needs and wants. I have always tried to be an open-minded individual, craving to learn about other people’s experiences elsewhere. And while I may be very familiar with western, specifically American, culture, I know that I am still very naïve to life elsewhere. It is one thing to know the fact that people live in poverty- but to understand and conceptualize what it actually means to live in poverty is a totally different story, especially when you consider that the story or profile of “poverty” changes based on where you are.

Growing up, I repeatedly heard the statement, “Be grateful that you have a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food on your plate.” And while that statement sounds simple, now I feel as if I never really understood it. Or, at least, I understand it differently now. It is simple for a reason. What one needs is simple. Growing up, I slept on a comfortable bed with warm sheets. When I turned 12, I was even granted my own room. And while my family complained that my father would always somehow sneak to lower the AC or turn off the TV in the 5 minutes you happened to be going to the bathroom, I lived in a temperature-controlled house with electronic entertainment. We had a stove, oven, microwave, refrigerator, and freezer. I had a computer to complete my schoolwork, a reliable and technologically up-to-date internet connection, and 24-hour power. I had access to a car when I wanted or needed to get somewhere. My closet and drawers were always filled with enough clothes. I had my own clothes. My family’s pantry was always stocked. My family ate at a table with everyone sitting on chairs. Our house had running and heated water and multiple toilets and showers. If something broke, we usually had it fixed in a timely manner. I attended private school and there was never a thought in my mind after my high school graduation to pursue anything other than college. I went to the doctor at least once a year and got glasses for my minimal nearsightedness. I have held at least one job throughout the year since I turned sixteen and I often felt shafted when I did not receive a raise. Growing up among middle class Americans, my story was not unique.

In visiting my host family down in Penia (where I play volleyball), I have begun to understand a little more about what home life is like here. In Chuuk, a microwave holds a luxury tax. A typical person sleeps on a local mat made of dried coconut leaves and maybe a thin pad because a bed is considered expensive. Family members can all sleep together in a single room, which the next day is the living space for everyone (That’s easy when you don’t have a heavy bed to move). Chairs, mostly plastic, are reserved for the eldest or the “guest.” Most locals do not have ovens- stoves consist of a metal grate put on top of a couple of rocks with a small fire burning underneath. Most bathrooms are holes in the ground. Most showers come from buckets, which to people here is not even “cold” because the concept of heated shower water is pretty much confined to hotels. Some may have a washing machine, but it is only useful when the island grants public power. Schools function on varying levels, from poor to high. The best education seems to remain in the hands of few families. Health care is coin toss- some get it, some do not. Many individuals with vision problems just deal with it and learn to compensate. Finding employment is difficult and therefore, many open their own small businesses to cover costs. And since work is hard to find, some are forced to stick with their jobs even if it means being offered no raise after more than a decade or two of work.

I do not say this to arouse pity or depressed feelings. My local friends for the most part seem content. Their life is what they know and are comfortable with. There are always behind-the-scenes social problems that result in domestic violence, alcoholism, health problems, etc., but the people’s perceptions of what one needs are different. I continue to be taken aback by the ingenuity and resilience of the people I have met here. For as much as I can “teach” them, they teach me as well; their lessons may be more disguised and not straight from a text. Rather, I say all of this to convey my observations because I know that I did not realize some of this six months ago. I reckon it would take far beyond two years, if ever, to fully understand another’s reality because of how deeply imprinted my own upbringing is. Even in Chuuk, I still live in luxury. I have my own room. I have my own bed. I have a laptop, camera, mp3 player, access to an internet connection, refrigerator, microwave, and above all, if I so desired I could pick up everything and head back to my comfortable home in the states. For me, one of my father’s favorite adages holds new meaning now.

In college I often mentioned that I wanted to spend a day just sitting on a street corner in downtown D.C. watching people as they went about their business. While studying sociology out of a textbook has never thrilled me, I have always been observant and entertained by learning about others. And while I am not quite on a street corner in D.C., when you don’t know how to contribute to the language much, you end up just sitting, listening, and watching. I have noticed a significant shift in the way people treat me now around Penia. In my first months here, it was common for me to run or walk by and get laughed at. I just went with it and kept a smile on my face. I was clueless to what was being said and had been told that laughing was a typical reaction by the people here to being uncomfortable or not knowing what to say. Recently, that doesn’t happen so much anymore. People just say hello now and ask me how I am doing and where I am going. Now I can sit down with them for hours and laugh with them, even if little is actually being said. When I do sit down, I am not always the center of attention now. My host mom told me a couple weeks ago that she told her sons that if they heard anyone pestering me that they have to tell them to stop because I am their “auntie” now. The concept of family in Chuukese culture is very strong and provides one’s identity and security.

For the first time last week, a host-cousin of mine (knowing I teach science at Xavier) asked if I could help him with his homework. I of course said sure so he brought out his textbook. Within three minutes of tutoring him, about 12 other people on the family’s compound had circled around us to see and hear what was going on, including a 4 year old girl and a grandmother. I typically draw attention around the compound being a “guest,” but it was fascinating to me how curious everyone was once a textbook came out.

A similar event occurred a couple days later on Xavier’s campus. Occasionally the sons of the maintenance workers will come and hang out around campus. One day two boys probably between the ages of 8 and 10 were hanging around sifting through the pages of the couple of children’s books we have acquired to help with tutoring Sapuk Elementary. It was obvious by the way in which they were turning the pages that they were not actually reading the books. I was in no rush to get anywhere so I crotched down beside one of them and began reading. As I read, I dragged my finger underneath each word I was reading. The boy was quickly enthralled, trying to follow along and turn the pages when I finished reading. I noticed that although his friend was on the other side of the room, I quickly caught his attention also and he walked over and sat beside us so he could also follow along. These are small incidents, but they just emphasize how kids anywhere crave to learn, regardless of the functioning levels of their public schools. Sapuk elementary is one of the lowest-functioning public elementary schools on Weno. They have been attempting to meet half days this year, but it does not always work for many reasons, one principal reason being that the staff do not always show up and therefore the kids also stop showing up. Something that I wanted to do within weeks of stepping foot on Weno was to improve the situation at Sapuk (if anyone remembers that print out of Micronesian schools I showed people before I left, Sapuk was the photo where the kids sat on the ground in front of small tables in a water-filled classroom). This semester we have managed to set up at tutoring program between Xavier and Sapuk. Every morning for about 45 minutes, 10 Xavier students go down to the elementary school and tutor the students in English. The first day the turnout was low, but within a week we had about 20 students per class showing up. Although it is a short time each day, hopefully it will have positive effects as the Sapuk students continue to show up.

…

A couple weekends ago was the annual “Dance Night,” and, in case you didn’t already know, it’s a big deal. I say that somewhat sarcastically, but also seriously. The enthusiasm of the students here is often over-the-top; I often find myself laughing at the pure innocence and ridiculousness to which some of the students here become so wrapped up in the excitement of an “event.” But at the same time, such enthusiasm is beautiful, awesome, and special. It makes me recognize how many opportunities I had growing up. Maybe an example would be best used to explain this. At my high school, there were at least 3 major dances throughout the school year. I went out with my friends weekly, either to the movies, to a football or basketball game, or just to a friend’s house to hang out. There was always something going on. Hence, when there is only one dance each year, it is a big deal. There are not many healthy options for teenagers and young adults to get together socially in Chuuk, which contributes to many of the social problems. Dance Night was fun and so different from any dance I went to in high school. The students decorated the “gym” with toilet paper, coconut leaves, and a couple balloons. “Dancing” is even somewhat different. Everyone gets a partner for each song and once each song stops, everyone scatters off the dance floor. Many students asked me to be their partners. Even the school’s director, a middle-aged priest, was out on the dance floor with the students. And the students were all for it. There was no grinding i.e. there was ample room for the Holy Spirit. It was fun to see the students so enthused and willing to be involved with the teachers. I appreciated how the students were excited to see us there and encouraged our involvement. I guess we do somewhat play the big brother, big sister roles here since the vast majority of the students are away from their families, but overall it was refreshing. It was the first time I actually got to dance since leaving the states and I have to say that is something I truly miss about American social culture.

Well, before I wrap up I want to share with you some of the exciting news Xavier received recently. The bidding to redo the road that stretches around about 9 miles of Weno went through a couple weeks ago. The project is scheduled to start within the next four months and last about three years. Although the road will start about 1 mile from Xavier, it will be a large benefit to the Weno community- and probably cut the trip downtown in half, as well as increase the lifespan of vehicles here by years. Secondly, a grant through Japan just went through to donate 2/3 of the cost of building a student center at Xavier. The plans include a small computer lab, an office for the Student Senate, a tutoring area, etc. And lastly, a Japanese company has agreed to donate a bus to Xavier. This is excellent news since we rely on 2 buses to drive the girls to and from school each day. Due to the condition of the roads here, the buses we have right now are struggling! They often die and get a flat tire about 50% of the time they are driven.

So things are looking up. Thanks again to everyone who has generously supported me in my work here in Chuuk. I hope everyone back home is enjoying the cold and snow in some capacity. It is still warm and beautiful here....I miss all of and look forward to hearing from you.

Peace.

Steph

Belated Happy Holidays!

Merry Belated Christmas and Happy New Year to all! And a special belated happy birthday to Graham and Kristin! I wanted to be able to send this to you all sooner but the power and internet hadn’t been working in sync with one another and then the laziness of break got to me. We had fairly consistent power in December - a nice holiday gift - but our internet connection was broken. Then once it was fixed, the generator started dieing and the generosity of the island power began to fizzle out. Anyways, I hope everyone had a relaxing and refreshing break. I know I did.

Obviously Christmas was not quite the same this year to be away from home, but in retrospect it was still a great experience. I probably felt the most homesick I have felt since being in Chuuk the week prior to Christmas - cards, emails, photos, and packages from home helped bring smiles to my face, but still can’t replace the feeling of being home around those you love. Thanks to everyone who sent school supplies and other treats. They are all greatly appreciated – not just by me, but everyone here that gets a little taste of home or a little added convenience to trying to educate students. If only you all could have seen the looks on other teachers’ faces when I opened the box with 650 sheets of construction paper- pure awe! Haha…yea, we don’t get out much! So, I know you are all thinking, so what was Christmas in Micronesia anyway?

Well, since I work on a boarding school, not all of the students can afford to go home for Christmas. About 20 boys ended up staying on campus for the break. A couple days before Christmas, a couple teachers went downtown and bought some simple gifts for the boys who were staying so that Christmas away from didn’t feel as bleak and everyone had at least one present under our “Charlie Brown” Christmas tree. We mostly bought practical things such as soap, toothbrushes, razors, sandals, etc., but also so fun things such as cologne, wristbands, and plastic squirt guns. Then with the leftover money we “splurged” and bought pizza for Christmas Eve. Somewhat of an odd Christmas Eve dinner for me - to be eating take-out pizza - but it was a big hit here. If anyone knows me, you know I worked at Papa Johns for 5 years and take-out pizza would probably be the absolute last food, other than maybe seafood, that I would choose to eat for a special meal, but that’s all right. Haha get that- seafood- and I live surrounded by the Pacific Ocean. I can actually eat seafood without wanting to gag now, which is a good feeling when you don’t want to be rude to local people who invite you to share a meal with them and it turns out to be 3 or 4 different types of seafood.

Back to Christmas Eve- then we celebrated midnight mass at 10pm, also a little strange, but closer to former years’ midnight mass, which has been held as early as 7 or 8 pm. Christmas Eve mass struck me. I really enjoyed it, which has not actually happened since I left SLU. I miss SLU mass, not to mention not knowing what is being said makes it difficult to remain attentive or even less so, enthused. It was the first time in longer than I can remember that I didn’t have to arrive 45 minutes in advance to get a seat. I left my room about 10 minutes before 10 and walked to the chapel. I appreciated that the mass was not overly crowded; rather, it felt intimate to me. It actually resembled the typical Sunday crowd, with a couple extras. It still bothers me that I cannot adequately communicate with local people in their native language. I find myself occasionally thinking about how different my experience would be had I been placed in a Latin American country- but that’s apples and oranges now and I realize that thought is not even worth pondering now. It is, however, a constant temptation.

The night before Christmas Eve was the first night that the JV’s from Pohnpei arrived. They brought sakau with them- a traditional drink made from a root and historically drank ceremoniously (and maybe recreationally?). It is essentially a narcotic and has numbing effects. I really don’t know much about it because it is not as popular in Weno, but that if you drink it you must be careful you get it from a reputable source who used clean water to pound it. Plain and simple- it tasted like dirt! I guess that’s what you get for trying to make a drink out of something that grows in the ground. So the Pohnpei JV’s taught us how to drink it- close your eyes while you sip it to avoid the evil spirits from entering your body and pass the cup around in a circular rotation. Generally the village chiefs and guests drink first, followed by the person who pounded it. Historically, it started in Kosrae (another state in the FSM), but was later banned through the influence of religious missionaries, but spread anyway to become popular throughout Micronesia.

On Christmas Day, the whole Xavier community went downtown to the 11am English mass, regularly attended by the Filipinos and Americans on island. After mass, we went to the local prison to sing Christmas carols. While I think that the caroling was done in good spirits it was somewhat awkward. The prisoners came out of their cells and we all gathered under an uut- a local hut made of out of coconut trees. The prisoners sat on one side and we, as in the Xavier community, stood on the other. A couple people sat on benches but there was not enough for everyone, so we were separated by about a 20-foot distance of open space. It felt impersonal and almost anti-justice-y. Not to mention it was only 3 songs and ended with “Santa Claus is coming to town.” Please take a moment and recall those lyrics. This is the scenario- here we are at a prison, looking down towards the prisoners, singing “He knows if you’ve been bad or good so be good for goodness sake.” Irony, anyone? I’m not sure that they actually appreciated our short-lived visit, although the seemed very respectful as they shook our hands as we departed. We also sang at the hospital, but I volunteered to stay at the truck to watch our belongings so I can’t comment on whether or not that situation felt more natural.

On the ride back up to Xavier Christmas afternoon, I hopped out at Penia with Jo, a JV from Pohnpei, and visited my host family. We sat very casually on a local mat with a couple of girls I played volleyball with (and my coach) and their small cousins and “caught up” over orange soda and coffee. It was refreshing – I always find myself feeling at ease when I am with them. It’s a carefree life. Sometimes it is a little awkward because of the communication barrier, but overall I really enjoy it. I love playing with the kids, who usually look at me like I am crazy, speaking to them in either a foreign language or terribly-accented Chuukese. There is this one girl- probably 2 years, who usually only walks around in a diaper (I don’t blame her- it’s hot here). Her name is Deeana and I have tried to play with her on several occasions, but she normally barely responds to me. She is pretty shy and remains physically close to whatever cousin she is with at the time. However, about 2 days ago I went and visited again, and for the first time, Deeana became my new “best friend.” You can imagine what this means for a 2 year old. It means she says my name like a broken record and finds “kapong” (handshakes) and “pounds” to be a fun activity with seemingly no end. I guess this just conveys how much I miss the smiles and silliness of my little cousins.

Christmas night was memorable, also. A couple of the students and Ellen, former JV- now principal, spent literally the whole day in the kitchen cooking up an absolutely delicious Christmas dinner, including turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, stuffing, fruit, broccoli and carrots, cut-out cookies, and brownies. I helped with the mashed potatoes and the cookie cut-outs but you all know how inept I am in the kitchen so the help was short-lived. So there were about 50 of us for dinner. During prayer, I was taken aback shortly. The person saying prayer made a comment about being thankful for and thinking of all of our families that could not be with us at that time, and with the exception of one JV whose Dad was visiting at that moment in time, the nearly 50 people surrounding me were away from their families at that point in time. Why this had not struck me sooner, I don’t know, but finally I felt I wasn’t alone. While everyone seemed cheery on the outside to keep the spirit of Christmas alive, many more people than just I were probably feeling the heartache of not seeing their Mom and Dad, brother and sister, best friend, etc. at that time of year. In that moment, I wanted to make the night as great as I could for the 20 teenage boys around me that already spent so much time away from their families. So post-dinner, the boys opened the gifts that the staff had bought for them. Some staff members exchanged white elephant or small re-gifted gifts. Then the Jesuits had bought the whole school a bunch of board games. This was the best part of the night. The students became so excited and enthused by the games, that within 15 minutes we had a table full learning how the play CLUE - Harry Potter style, another group playing RISK, a duo playing chess with a crowd to watch, another duo playing Connect Four, etc. Not to mention, some of the other staff had set up Karaoke in the kitchen and I’ve never met teenagers that like to sing more than the students here. I sang a couple karaoke songs and then, the fact that I am Steven Osborne’s daughter came out in me, and I played a game of chess against another volunteer. I still have decent chess skills- dad, you might be proud (he he). We actually used to play fairly often when I worked at Fairland so that kept me from getting too rusty. But it was just awesome to see the kids have so much fun and be genuinely so interested in the board games. If I brought those games out to an audience of the same age in America, I think half of them would laugh at me and decline to play. The game playing and singing lasted for over 3 hours- and by then, I was exhausted.

The morning of the 26^th, the JV’s from Chuuk and Pohnpei, 2 Peace Corp volunteers, and a volunteer’s dad headed out to Pisar, “the island of moving sands.” It is called Pisar because it can look different every time you go because of the current – it also sits practically right on the reef. This was my second time going to Pisar, but the last time I had gone it had only been for several hours and this trip was going to be three days. Being at Pisar is honestly the most beautiful and relaxing place I have ever been to, although the Sahara Desert ranks close behind. Looking out into the water, you can see 5-7 different shades of ocean water, from deep blues to vibrant turquoises and pale sea foam greens. Pisar is a short walk to the where the open ocean breaks on the reef (or a swimming fight in stronger currents) -making Chaco’s even more valuable out here, a.k.a. perfect reef walkers. Walking on the reef can get kind of tricky and semi-dangerous when the current is stronger because the coral is sharp and can cut you badly if you are not careful or fall. I got a couple small coral cuts, but nothing worth bragging over. The 3 days were set up as our “Winter/Christmas Retreat.” I guess only the Christmas part applies to us. It was a good time to recharge and exchange stories with the Pohnpei JVs, who we had not seem since Aug 4^th when we left the states.

There were a couple of highlights during the 3 days. I spotted a huge sting ray (manta ray) when I was snorkeling. Seeing small sting rays isn’t that rare, but this one was probably almost 3 feet wide and at least 5 feet long. Jessie’s dad had an underwater camera and took a picture of it, so hopefully it will turn out well. Then on our last day, I woke up at sunrise to go walk on the reef during low tide and look for ocean gems. At some parts of the reef the water was only about 2-3 inches deep, and at one point, I looked down at my feet and was startled by a slivery-gray, almost translucent eel about 2 inches from my right foot. I jumped quickly and scared the eel away. Apparently the can leave a nasty bite. I also saw some awesome blue starfish, other fish and coral, and found some beautiful cowry shells.

In between Christmas and New Years we had a mini water problem. Since we had not gotten island power in a couple of days and the generator wasn’t working, we had not been able to pump water to our buildings. So this means no water- water to drink, water to wash dishes or your hands with, water to flush toilets with, water to brush your teeth, water to shower with, water to cook with – you get the drift. You turn on the faucet and nothing comes out. The water was sitting in the tanks, but the only way to get it would be to climb inside the tanks and bucket it out and then of course boil it – just slightly inconvenient. So a couple teachers filled a couple trashcans outside to use. Well, I waited until it was sleep time, hoping island power would be a possible savior, but finally gave in to showering rather than even trying to sleep with my post-running sweaty body. I thought it would be easier to just shower outside rather than carry buckets to my room- perfectly acceptable. So it was pitch black because there was no power and a little chilly because of the breeze, but I stood in a skirt pulled up like a tube top dress and showered outside. Low and behold, of course, just as I am finishing, island power turns on all of the lights surrounding me. There I am standing in the grass, soaking wet with a nice soapy film underneath my skirt. I look to my left and I awkwardly wave to the security guard that was now capable of seeing me - I hope you spot the sarcasm - and then retreated back to my room laughing and thinking that this would only happen in Chuuk.

On New Years Eve, I was invited to go out with a couple local people. My friends in Penia had invited me to walk to 10pm Mass with them and then walk back (about 2 miles) in celebration = a.k.a. banging on sheet metal and pots and pans. However, a girl that lives right down the hill from me had also invited me oer. She had asked me several weeks before the New Year and then again the day before so I decided to stay with her. She came up to Xavier to get me at about 10:30pm with her sister. As soon as we got to her house, she asked if she could “style” me. The next thing I knew, my hair was being braided into cornrows, I had 2 or 3-inch purple polka dot hoop earrings in my ears, and a new muumuu. If you know me, you know I would probably never choose to wear 2-3 inch hoop earrings, let alone purple polka dot ones - unless maybe I was dressing up for Halloween or at Mardi Gras. However, I didn’t have a mirror and the power was out while they were “styling” me so I didn’t figure this out until after I got home. The rest of the evening involved a lot of chanting words I don’t understand and banging on sheet metal, followed by LOTS of gift giving. Like 3 hours of gift giving! Here I am, straining to stay awake as what seems like half of the village of Sapuk (about 100 people) are trying to exchange gifts by announcing them one-by-one and dancing in between. It was entertaining since I never seen Chuukese women get so free with themselves and dance as if they are within a dance club, but it just seemed as if the Christmas tree had an endless supply of gifts (much more like a village Christmas celebration than actual Christmas day). Most of the gifts were small, such as a bundle of firewood, a soda, bananas, skirts, coconuts, rice, toilet paper, etc. Some of them were gag gifts like baby dresses for adult women, coconut bras (girls don’t actually wear them here- come on, they can’t even expose their shoulders), etc. I took home 2 coconuts and bananas – probably my two most favorite Micronesian foods.

Okay, so I know I have probably lost a lot of you already, but that was a “brief” look at my break. Yesterday marked my 5^th month since I left the states- can you believe it? I think I can. It’s been fast, but still feels like 5 months. Classes start again tomorrow and while I still wish I had break for a couple more days, I’m ready to see the students again. I guess I should go plan my classes now…talk soon.

Peace,

Steph

Xavier Day Ridiculous Fun

When I first started working at Xavier, I thought some of the “traditions” held by the students were somewhat silly, but this past weekend has solidified my thoughts. Working at a boarding school is certainly an “interesting” experience, especially when it entails all boys, because it becomes summer camp-esc on the weekends. A lot of the ridiculous events are meant to “scare” the freshmen and would be thought of as hazing in an American context. At Halloween, the returning students pretended that one of the junior boys had become possessed. The boy acted as if he was having seizures and was even removed from the rest of the student body to be “taken to the hospital.” Many of the staff members thought this was ridiculous and pretty much crossing the line of being inappropriate. Not to mention that it certainly advocates the misconception commonly found out here that seizures are a result of evil spirits or black magic. No joke- one of the Micronesians I know told me that when he was younger, his friend would occasionally have seizures and they thought the cure for a seizure was to punch the person and pull on his or her ears. So, whenever his friend had a seizure he would punch him and pull his ears. Within a short while, his friend’s seizure would end. Therefore, not only could he have possible brain damage post-seizure, but he would also have bruises all over his body! That’s whole other story though. So in the end, freshmen boys ended up “scared” from the Halloween “tradition,” and some of them even had trouble sleeping for several days.

Now, here comes Xavier Day. It is a 2-day celebration of the Feast of St. Xavier, including running, basketball, volleyball, coconut husking, basket weaving, arm wrestling, obstacle courses, tug of war, relay races, sprints, a dizzy race, eating contests, etc. (I now have a really cool purse made of coconut leaves thanks to one of my students). It was a lot of fun for the students and me. As I have mentioned before, I really enjoy the opportunities I get to spend time with the students, especially the girls outside of the classroom. My favorite event had to have been the dizzy race. So the scheduled activities were all fun and appropriate, but the events of Friday night (before Day 2) would absolutely not occur anywhere else but at Xavier High School. The boys from different island nations (Palau, Yap, Chuuk, Kosrae, Pohnpei, and the Marshalls) planned to fight each other at multiple times throughout the night in an effort to pump themselves up to be competitive for the continued games on Saturday- literally, violent, physical fights, but staged or fake so that nobody actually got “hurt” (or at least that was the hope). Now, only the freshmen didn’t know that the fights were deliberate so again, the intention of the night was to scare the freshmen and to make them cry. At least that is what resulted from it last year based on what the other volunteers said. Now, don’t you feel like you are at summer camp, because I do! So the fighting started at about dinnertime with banging, screaming, shouting, etc. and continued intermittently for a couple hours. I wonder how long this has actually been a tradition? I know my mind is American, but the whole night I just couldn’t cease to think this would never happen anywhere else and it is only a matter of time until the “tradition” turns out of control and dangerous. I guess that stems from the American mentality that has been ingrained within me the last 22 years. Even better, on Saturday morning all of the girls planned physicals fights to occur on each vehicle. Imagine 8 girls on the back of a pickup and 2 or 3 of them trying to beat each other up also.

While the fighting events were ridiculous in my opinion, all of Saturday’s events were fun and inspiring. While the idea of the day was not foreign to me since I grew up participating in “Field Days” in school, never did I have such a day in high school. It wouldn’t have worked very easily in a school of 1200; however, this notion really got me thinking about how different my upbringing was in a well-to-do American family. The students here absolutely love Xavier Day. They look forward to the next year’s games the day after the games end, they “train” throughout all of the first semester for the relays, and they talk to encourage each other as if participating in Xavier Day is a life or death decision. It’s actually pretty funny to witness. This is what I heard one of my juniors saying on Saturday to his friend that was getting nervous about a race, “Man, you can’t chicken out now. You only have one Xavier day left after this!”

After watching the enthusiasm of the students, I thought about how as I child I was always involved in something that gave me something to work towards. Whether it was ballet or baton, soccer or softball, swimming or gymnastics, or even choir or band, I was always actively involved in activities that inspired me to work towards a goal. The children of Micronesia are not given this gift. Very little to nothing is organized to provide that opportunity or build the skills that come along with participation in such. I always grew up around facilities for such activities. Back home one of the top priorities of schools is maintaining and enhancing its facilities. It is somewhat refreshing to see how resilient the students are and how much can be accomplished without a state of the art field or gym. A little sand laid down for track lines works excellent!

Anyways, I think this is one of the reasons why Xavier Day becomes a very big deal. It is organized, it is competitive, and it is something that most other kids all across Micronesia don’t have. Now, this year in my first few weeks of being in Chuuk, I saw the Sapuk elementary school hold running races. So maybe things are starting to change little by little, but there is a long road ahead. The way people talked about the “Sapuk games” it was the biggest event to occur in the village in a long time. Most of the schools are struggling to minimally function without reliable teachers and functioning facilities (bathrooms, septic systems). And the organized volleyball [and basketball] I had been participating in has since stopped due to escalating violence between men of different villages. The odds seem against community organizing.

But, the Xavier Day events ended with the Senior-Freshmen team beating the Junior-Sophomore team. It was nice to watch the united, happy spirit among the students despite defeat. They all had fun regardless of the winning or losing. The juniors prepared a cheer for the seniors and the whole school joined hands in a circle across the whole field to pray together at the end. A little Jesuit cheer had to come in at some point.

A New Boil

So I've quickly learned that a bad spot for a boil is the tip of your elbow! Today and tomorrow is "Xavier Day," which is basically like a huge field day for the kids with sports events and eating contests in celebration of the Feast of St. Xavier. I'll keep you posted on how it goes. Happy Friday! A week and a half until Semester Exams (and then I'm basically a fourth of the way done)! Hope everyone enjoyed the pictures I sent out last weekend. If you didn't get the email, let me know. Talk soon. Peace.
-Steph