Another Week in Paradise

As I was running today I was considering what I should write for my next blog. First quarter flew by! It ended last Friday and I finally managed to get my grades turned in today after lunch, so I just feel relieved that I can breathe again, at least for a couple hours until the work begins again! Perfect time to write a blog! Well, after dinner one of my fellow teachers was talking about the reflections some of his students had written in detention as to why they were late to class today. Well, I thought some of them were quite hilarious and effectively communicate how teenagers are teenagers no matter where you are. So I typed out 3 of the at least 200-word explanations of “Why were you late? And how will your tardiness improve?” Enjoy. (Small update after the reflections)

# 1

“Why was the Great ***** late?”

Throughout all my years in school, my most hated enemy is time. Funny this is, time is fast when you want it to go slow, and it goes slow when you want it to go fast. Now in Xavier High School, Micronesia, I have been late. Why? Because of the freakin’ time, that’s why! While I was walking out of the library from SSR to go to my next class, Geometry, I sort of got thirsty. Now, here’s the stupidest reason I was late: I went to get a sip when I saw it, girls lining up to drink. Filled with nervousness inside my heart, I tried waiting for them all to drink. I mean, ladies fine. These are the juniors, Argonauts, we’re talking about here. About 98.5% of the junior girls are HOT! You cant just go straight to them and say, “Hey, can I drink ‘cause I’m thirst?” Dude, that ‘s stupid! When all of them finished, I went straight and filled my cup with nice but freakin’ warm water. While I was drinking, half-way through, the bell rang. I spat out water, accidentally threw away the cup, and ran. Then I saw Mr. C’s face in the doorway, saying, “Okay, Okay. Out all of you, late people!”

The lesson I learned from being late is not to get distracted or shy by girls – even though they’re hot! I’m gonna come – no more trops to the cooler; I’ve had enough already. And sorry for lying about me getting my backpack inside the library, Mr. C. Please, just forgive me, don’t give me Saturday work! The End.
- Anonymous, Sophomore boy

#2

I am truly sorry. I was late to class because I was looking for my textbook. Textbooks are always missing in the study hall & I’m sorry for that. I last saw it on my desk, but when I went there, it was long gone. Don’t worry, I’ll find it. I tried to explain, but you didn’t listen to me. Wow, I like your red pen. COOL. Oh, plus the floor was slippery so I was very careful. But when the bell rang I was like, “Shoot man, Mah Homeboy, Mr. C. is going to (gonna) get mad.” Sorry. I’ll try not to be late for your class, Mr. C. I think we need more than five minutes-break to walk here (Okay that’s a lie). Yo, Mr. C., it’s really hard to keep in track of time when you don’t gotta watch. I bet this is my last detention. “I hope.” Finding a book in that messy study hall is hard work. VERY. So yeah, I just found a textbook & brought it to class. Phew! Talk about Xavier Borrowing. Sorry, but I brought it back to where I found it. That is one long paragraph.

I will try my very best to come early to class. I’ll write it on my forehead (Oh no, I wouldn’t see). But yeah, I’ll bring all my books & all that I need to class in the morning so I wouldn’t have to leave during the 5-minute break. I’ll try my best Mr. C. My very best. Is it already two-hundred words? People should just stop taking other people’s stuff from their desks (Look who’s talking). Okay Mr. C. Thank you for this opportunity to spend time & actually meet your wonderful red pen. XOXO

– Anonymous (gangstah), Sophomore girl

#3

October 20 2009. I was late to Trigonometry class. I was late that time because I had to go use the bathroom. There is not a single person in the world that would need that much time to urinate unless they have some kind of bladder sickness, and I do not have any kind of bladder disease so having gone to the benjo is not my explanation for my tardiness. I was later that day because I decided that I could hold back the liquid when the urge to relieve myself first presented itself, this was during the first minutes of the break (between classes). After a while it became clear to me that I could not hold in the liquid anymore and waiting till during class to ask would most definitely have presented other problems. The teacher would ask why I did not go during the break, I still might’ve gotten detention, and my situation would have been more desperate. I decided that it would just be less complicated if I had just gone during the break, so a quarter to the end of the break, I left to go use the benjo. I spent a good 20 seconds (apprx.) relieving myself and by the time I was returning to class, the bell rang. And that is why I was late. Next time, I will try to leave to go use the bathroom as soon as I get the urge. I will also try to control my bladder and no get the urge right during a school day.
- Anonymous, Junior boy

Well, I hope those brought some smiles to your faces even though you don’t know these students personally. As for me, this school year is going well so far. I just feel much busier than last year. I have a good grasp on teaching this year, but new things have been added to my plate. I have taken on the role of the College Counselor “Extraordinaire” and the Campus Minister. So, as well as teaching Biology and Chemistry, I teach juniors and seniors college counseling, arrange for all of the standardized testing, and moderate and plan the retreats, prayer days and community service projects for each year group (I mean grade, sorry I have picked up that jargon from the Australians). I am still really enjoying the students and my job, in general - just learning how to adjust to the new workload. So I apologize that skype calls may have become less frequent – I am still great with email, but the power shutting off before midnight every night makes skype difficult.

Other than that, a lot has happened in the last two months. My host family from Penia experienced a tragedy about a month ago. One of my host sisters (20 years old) passed away. The funeral was really sad to witness – very different from a funeral back home. Funerals here last about 3-5 days. I attended the first night. Since it was a Tuesday, I started to feel tired at about 10:30 or 11pm (I feel old) and I guess it was pretty obvious so everyone was telling me it was ok to sleep. However, nobody else slept. All night long, women literally wailed or sang their sadness away. Ironically, the death brought Nievic (my first Chuukese friend) back to Weno, along with her 5-month old daughter. It has been nice to catch up with Nievic during this time and play with the baby.

Around the end of August, I realized that my host family from Moch was actually on island. I had called my host brother, who stays here permanently, and told him I was going to stop by to drop off some packages. He said, “Ok, I will send your two friends to the road to get you.” I said, “Who?” And he said, “Terry Ann and Diane.” I was so surprised and excited to see them. It turns out that my host dad had been hospitalized so they had all come to visit. He is doing much better now. So they took me to Wechin, the small waterfall on island – certainly much colder water than the lagoon waters. And I can’t really go anymore in Micronesia without an army of followers so about 30 kids followed behind. I have pictures coming soon. Then for the first time in my life, I bathed outside in the river that flows from the waterfall. It’s freshwater so a lot of people bathe in it. A new experience for me – bathing with the moss-covered rocks. Hehe.

Then came the natural disasters of the Pacific! A lot of people contacted me to see if Weno had survived the earthquakes/tsunamis/typhoon. Luckily, our coral reef is strong. I didn’t even know about the tsunami until after the fact. The only effects that Weno felt was rain and rough waters, which unfortunately meant we had to cancel the first community service project of the year. Perfect introduction to my new position as the Campus Ministry moderator! We (the CM team) had worked pretty hard to put together the Junior CSP – a 3-day event on the island of Tol. The students were scheduled to build local huts and help with yard work. Well, in the Nesia events don’t get cancelled for too much heat or ice on roads, but yes rough waters! So after dragging all the students to the downtown dock, we were informed by the ship captain that the waters were too dangerous. As we headed back up to campus, some of the returning senior CM members turned to me and said, “Congrats on your first CSP planning!” They weren’t being jerks – just equally disappointed!

Last Friday was the Sophomore Prayer Day – similar to a single day retreat for the sophomores. The theme was “No Templar is an Island” (Their class name is the Templarz), and the day focused on the interconnectedness of the students within the class. I think it went pretty smoothly, including a trip down to the water for a quick swim. At the end of the day one of the CM members turned to me and said, “It went well. At least they cried.” It’s amazing to me that crying is how success is measured here, but if they cry, apparently we did something right!

Well, my goal today was to get to bed early, so I’m going to stop for now! I hope you got a glimpse into my last two months. I hope everyone is doing well. Still missing you all and thinking about you frequently. Send updates and keep in touch! Happy early Halloween. Kinisou chapur. Sipwap chu. Ai pwositi meinisin. Kinamwe ngeni chemi. Ai tong ngonuk. (Start practicing your Chuukese Mom and T – looking forward to your visits. So here are your translations. “Thank you. Talk soon. I miss you all. Peace to all. I love you.” )

-Steph

Ewe Fonufan Ren Iik, Nuu, Allim, Mei Tongik (The World of Fish, Coconuts, Hellos, and I Love You’s)

So I just don’t even know where to begin with this blog. I never get writer’s block, but for a week or two I have felt stuck in trying to fully communicate my experiences in Moch. By the end of it, you will probably think “Writer’s Block? You sure wrote a lot!” True- there’s a lot here, but it still just feels inadequate as just words. Anyways, here’s my best attempt to relocate all of you to a small mile-long island in the middle of the Pacific without sinks or running water, internet or electricity, cars or bikes, watches or alarm clocks, forks or spoons, telephones or cell phones, but rather a beautiful land full of sand and coral, the sounds of swift breezes and pounding breadfruits, flies and mosquitoes, coconuts and papayas, plates of breadfruit and bowls of rice, fish and crab, 10-person hammocks and local huts, ukuleles and beautiful voices, breadfruit and coconut leaf fans, volleyball games and 60-meter sprints, smiles and laughter, and hellos and I love you’s.

Two weeks ago, I returned from my 6-week trip to Moch, an island a little more than a 150 miles south of Weno. To say the least, Moch is much less touched by westernization than Weno. To give you a little idea of what I mean, for the first time in a long time, I saw someone carrying around a tape player boom box. A day on Moch begins when the eldest son heads out to fish for the family’s breakfast. Cooking is a big part of the culture because a lot of time is spent sitting in the masoro (cook house), where you cook your food upon the open fire. It’s somewhat like camping everyday. Other than the day 30 + hour boat ride to and from, my experiences this summer were phenomenal. The people of Moch touched my heart in a way that has never happened to me before. I had wanted to go to Moch ever since the first time I heard about it last year. I am not exactly sure what drew me to it so much- maybe some sort of intuition – but after my time there, I know that there could not have been a better place for me to experience this summer.

My purpose for going to Moch was to teach English reading and writing and Math (basically Pre-Algebra) to students who had failed such classes in the 9^th and 10^th grades, as well as experience full immersion in an outer island. I ended up with about 15 students and while I spoke English 90% of the time, body language became essential to get my point across and a good percentage of what I said was translated into Chuukese by one of the students who understood me at that time. The principal gave me complete independence to choose my schedule and while we started with a flexible 9am-12pm schedule, with a 15-minute break in the middle, it eventually evolved into 9:20 – 12:30 with a 30-minute break in between. Mind you, this is a place where there are essentially 4 answers when someone asks you what time it is. For example, take the hour between 9 and 10. It is either 9 o’clock, past 9, before 10, or 10. So while I tried to start as “on time” as possible, I had cultural forces working against me that weren’t very easy to surpass.

For the first couple of weeks, we played volleyball for a couple hours every day after school. Most of the youth from the village would stroll through at some point to join in a game. Within a couple days of arriving, one of my friends there even built new benches when he found out I was really interested in volleyball. The talent out here in Micronesia never ceases to amaze me, especially when Americans tend to associate the best athletes with those that can spend hundreds or even thousands on the best coaches, leagues, and equipment. Smoking cigarettes and chewing coconut or betel nut is very common out there. For the first few days at volleyball, I thought, “This is crazy - basically everyone was smoking marijuana.” Following Mochese (and Micronesian) custom of what belongs to one belongs to all, I had seen basically all of the male youth pass the cigarette around (which looked like a small cigar or blunt because it was wrapped in dried banana leaf) so each person got only a drag or two. So it wasn’t until my brother was rolling the leaf in front of me that I asked what was inside. I told him I had never seen people pass cigarettes before. He just laughed and said I guess theres just not enough cigarette to go around for everyone to have their own. As well as, there are only a few marijuana smokers on this island and everyone knows who they are (with an air that it is obviously frowned upon). At least everyone thought it was funny and wasn’t offended.

When I first arrived I spoke extremely minimal Chuukese. It is very difficult to learn Chuukese teaching at Xavier, where “English Only” is enforced and our tutor somewhat fell through last year. But after 6 weeks of struggling through conversations, being laughed at (or with) frequently, I finally feel I have a good base in the language. My host family on Weno was impressed when I first visited them and only wanted to converse in Chuukese. Now, they realize I want to keep learning Chuukese and aren’t speaking to me in English as much. But anyway, in struggling through, I have obviously made lots of mistakes. Here’s an example that my family just found hilarious. On Moch, you say “A lei (like lay) la” when people are leaving and it is somewhat like saying, “Ok, you guys go.” Well, having heard it a couple times, I made the bold step of trying to say it myself. So, I was sitting with my Uncle Augustine when my brother and another cousin were leaving and I said “A lo la.” Augustine smiled at me and said, “Don’t say that. That means diarrhea.” Essentially I was telling them to go number 2. Well, I have to say I think people reminded me of that almost everyday I was there, all the way up until I was getting in the boat to come back to Weno. Waving and smiling some of the last words I heard were, “A lo la.”

As I have mentioned time and time before, when I first came to the Nesia, I was in no way a fan of seafood. Since I arrived, I made a promise to myself to try as much as I could and give seafood a “second chance.” As well as the first time I ate coconut, breadfruit, and taro, I didn’t like any of it. When I decided to go to Moch, I knew I would have to just accept fish (breadfruit and taro) into my life. Well, call it a 180, but I have finally decided that I have been foolish my whole life to not have liked fish, lobster, and crab. Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner, I ate rice, fish, taro, coconut, and breadfruit. Now I think all of it is delicious. There is nothing better than freshly pounded, still hot kon (breadfruit) with coconut milk – mmmm! I am still trying to the convince the newbies of that right now.

Since there is no public power and not really any large generators, things quiet down a lot after dark. Some people will have one light at night that runs off of solar power. But unlike Weno, where I feel confined to Xavier once the sun sets, there is much more freedom to just be on Moch. It is a very safe island (I guess being dry changes a lot of things). So the social event every night was song- keyboard synthesized background music and Chuukese songs – except for rainy days when there wasn’t enough sun to generate power for the light and the keyboard. By the end of my time there I had picked up the lyrics to a couple of the songs, but for the most part I just sat relaxed for an hour or two and listened every night. So at about 9:30, the day would end. So with that king of bedtime, I really didn’t mind waking up with the sun pretty much every day.

I happened to be on island when there was “Appechokul” (Confirmation). I have never seen people practice so much for one Mass in my life and of course, everyone on the island came to watch. It was a pretty neat Mass to witness in the end. There were several processions during the Mass but the coolest had to be for communion when they presented the gifts on a life size canoe. I took a video of it, but I’m sorry - you will just have to wait until I come home to see it. There’s no way I can upload that with our internet speed out here. So if you are wondering why there are pictures of girls wearing all white and the boys wearing white shirts and black pants, it was because of Appechokul.

The church on Moch is St. Ignatius Loyola. And since the feast day for Ignacio was at the end of July, Moch had a huge celebration, with running races and other field day-type events. I ran in the 60-meter, 100-meter, and participated in the tug of war. My village (Piemoch) wanted me to run the 4-lap (lap around the whole island, which I did practically every other day) but I refused because it was only going to guys from all the other villages. If there’s one thing I learned from Ignacio it was that an 8:00 start time really means 11:00 or 11:30. But all in all, great time with back and forth chanting and celebrating.

In between the events for Ignacio, there was a funeral. Being that practically everyone on the island is related somehow and in Chuukese custom to prepare food for the funeral, we postponed the running races to prepare mass amounts of breadfruit and taro cake (unless you are someone that has lived in the Nesia before, I promise you that this is not the kind of cake you are thinking of). Let me try to describe to you what a Chuukese funeral is like. First off, anyone and everyone is invited. It is generally held in a meeting hall. The men typically enter, pay respects, and step outside for the rest of the time, while the women spend hours sitting and singing to the body. Usually there is a basket at the foot of the coffin, in which people place a dollar bill. I guess it’s a way to help support the family for the expenses of the funeral. And this can last for several days, during which people bring mats and even sleep with the coffin. The second and third nights of the funeral on Moch, I joined in the singing. The first night I went with my Mama and probably spent about 2 hours praying and singing with the coffin. The second night, I went with the serafo (youth) to sing from about 9 pm to 1 am. This was certainly my first experience of the Chuukese “spraying.” It is custom to spray people with body spray or lather them with lotion or hair gel if they are singing for you. Well, with the first spray or two, I just thought it was an interesting practice. Then within an hour, I think I had been sprayed by at least 30 different scents, been given so much lotion that it would no longer rub into my arms, neck, and calves. And my hair was more than a grease ball. Of course it was fine because hair is supposed to be slacked back here, but it was just so funny that there was no end to spraying.

So in American culture, we celebrate Sweet 16s, 18s, 21s, “Over the Hills,” but in Micronesia, the first birthday is the biggest birthday. I happened to be in Moch for my nephew Bero’s first birthday. And there’s no celebration in Micronesia without a freshly slaughtered pig so I witnessed such for the first time. I was just about to go running one day when I heard a loud pig-shrieking coming from outside the house. I walked outside to see about five men holding down our family’s fattest pig so that they could tie its legs together. The next thing I knew, they held a bucket underneath its throat as they slit it open and drained its blood until it no longer screamed. I guess my facial expressions were a cross between frightened and curiously disgusted because my sister, father, and uncle just laughed at me as they watched me watch. Then as soon as all the kids realized that this was not an everyday occurrence for me, they found it hilarious to stick their entire arms into the slit, covering them with blood so that they could come chasing after me. Then they lit it on fire to scrap off the skin and cooked it in a cauldron that I thought only witches used before coming to Moch. Enjoy the pictures! As for some other new experiences, I learned how to wash my clothes with a washboard. I learned how to peel breadfruit with an aluminum can and squeeze coconut milk. I learned how to eat with my hands and how to sit Indian-style for hours. I am also a pro now at showering outside in a skirt.

The Sunday before I left, my family invited the people I was closest with to go to a small island with me for a picnic. About 30 people ended up coming. We set up a volleyball net and played some volleyball while the mosquitoes ate us alive. Since they cook over an open fire out there, the bottoms of pots are pretty much permanently covered in sot. After lunch, my friend Amram told me that everyone that comes to this island has to get their faced covered in sot. I looked at him and said, “Apw! (No)” Well, he didn’t hesitate. He quickly rubbed his hands on the bottom of the pan and came chasing after me. Eventually I gave in as he covered my face with black sot. Of course I had to play the game and act mad, chasing after him and screaming. Within a couple of minutes someone grabbed my camera and took a picture of me. As I saw how ridiculous I looked, I broke down laughing. By this time, Amram was nowhere to be found. I guess I scared him away. So a bunch of people joined in chasing each other and covering their faces. Although somewhat disgusting, it turned out to be really fun. So that’s the explanation for my black face. I guess I passed initiation.

My time in Moch certainly culminated my last couple of days. It was a mystery as to when the boat would actually arrive to go back to Weno. I had my bag packed since Sunday night, but didn’t actually end up getting on the boat until Thursday. Well, it’s Chuukese custom to “sing” people goodbye. It’s called, “Emwirimwir” (Yea, Chuukese is an easy language, No worries.). So my last two nights in Moch I didn’t sleep. The first night, the serafo (somewhat like a youth group or young adult group in the states) of my village came to my house to sing to me – consider it a Mochese going-away party. So for about 3 hours we sang sipping on coffee and eating tempera (similar to doughnuts). There were other people leaving on the same boat as me so we went to 2 more houses after mine. Then at about 4:30am, we all headed back to the Vice President of the serafo’s house. I had gone back to my house to get some water and got held up by the rain for a while so I was probably missing for about 30 minutes. When I got back, there were about 15 people that hadn’t gone to sleep yet, singing and playing guitar in the room. They were passing around a cup and continuously refilling it from this construction bucket. I asked them what it was and they said yeast. That was a perfectly reasonable answer because it is not atypical that people drink yeast here if they cannot afford to purchase alcohol, especially on a remote island where there is no store. I asked to smell it and try a sip. And my cousin said apw (no). Of course my first reaction was to say, “Why? Please, just one sip.” Again, “Apw.” Then one of the guys stood up and started swaggering, playing the act of being drunk. I just laughed at him and a couple others played along. It wasn’t until most everyone had left that my friend Artin asked me, “Do you know why they wouldn’t let you smell or taste the drink?” Of course I said no. Then he laughed and said, “Well, that’s because it was just water. Alcohol is illegal here. They can’t drink in front of me. I am a police officer here and they are some of my nieces and nephews.” Well, didn’t I feel like the dumb American. If there is one thing I eventually caught on to in Moch, it was that Mochese love to lie. I don’t mean harmful lies, but more so playful lies. The next morning I commented on it to my friend Kathy. I said, “I get it now. You all love to lie to me because you know I don’t know when you are joking or not.” She smiled and shook her head yes.

My last night on Moch the serafo from another village came to sing goodbye to me. After song, my mom told me that I could go anywhere on the island that I wanted. Without having to think very hard, I knew I wanted to go to leicha (the beach area) one last time. There is nothing better than sitting on one of the giant hammocks with the breeze blowing past you, looking out into the water. So I went with one of my friends and all I wanted to do at that point in time was sleep. So we napped for maybe an hour and a half and then headed back to the house. We sat on the peias (graves) talking and taking pictures until about 4am when we started cooking the food I would take on the boat. Saying goodbye was pretty sad. My mom started to tear and told me she loved me. My sister TerryAnn (probably the person I was closest to) also began to tear and told me that she would be very lonely without me. They placed a mar-mar on my head and then waved to me until I could no longer see them in the boat.

By the time I reached the boat, I was exhausted and I guess in some ways ready to sleep through the next 30 some hours when I would be practically curled up in fetal position. A few Peace Corp volunteers were on the same boat as me going back to Weno and I guess after almost 20 hours of sleeping, I finally woke up. They commented, “Wow, Steph, we were wondering if you were dead.” I just said, “No, but I actually hadn’t slept in 2 days.” They thought I was exaggerating when I first got on the boat, but then they believed me. As I said before, it’s hard to put into words how incredible my time in Moch was. It was a great opportunity to step back and see how differently, happily, and peacefully other people live - to be a perfect stranger and be treated as a member of the family.

While this blog focused on my summer in Moch, a lot has also happened in the last three weeks since I returned. A bunch of new people have joined the Xavier and Saram families bringing new energy and enthusiasm. The five new JVs had a great welcome to Chuuk, all coming down with diarrhea, vomiting, and fevers on their second day here. Somewhat ironic, seeing as I am sick with a fever and a sore throat as I write this right now, but honestly, sickness that knocks you out for a minute really isn’t very common here. They also had a good introduction to the status of Xavier vehicles. On a trip back from Saram in the black truck, the truck got a flat tire within about 2 minutes of driving away. No big deal, our drivers are pros at changing tires (seeing as they do it every day). Then about 20 minutes away from Xavier, the truck started to overheat. So we stopped to fill some hole under the hood with lots of water. I am pretty sure that in any other case at home we would stop driving the car at this point in time, but not at Xavier. Our drivers are miracle workers. So when we went to start the car, it just wouldn’t. About 5 attempts to push start it later, we finally were on our way. (In case you don’t know what a push start is, ask somebody who knows about cars – It’s a cool skill to know in the event your car gets this run down) - Haha only to have our one working headlight go out in the darkest part of the island. So what did we do? Me and another volunteer stood on the back of the truck and reached around the side of the truck to hold out a headlamp (you know the small personal ones cavers, miners, hikers, etc. use). We were only going about 5 miles an hour where there is really no traffic, but still all in one car ride! Really?! I’m exhausted!

We have also had the chance to climb Witipong mountain again – this time being a much more enjoyable experience than last year. The rain pretty much held off for us, as well as we were a little smarter about where we slept. I guess we learned last year that sleeping on bare mountain rock with all its ridges and grooves doesn’t make a good recipe for comfort. We even managed to “get lost” and find a new route to the mountain that takes about half the time. To get to the mountain you have to walk through fields of grass that are probably 7 feet high at points – an easy way to loose your sense of direction. Well on the way up we had basically created our own path through the grass, meaning we left scratched up and occasionally fell into unforeseeable trenches. On the way back we found a nice path through the grass so we decided it couldn’t hurt to take it. Eventually it dumped us into the jungle and again we were working to create our pathway home. Thank God for Sammy (new JV) who at one point looked over and said, “Is that the million gallon tank?” There are 4 million gallon tank reserves on island. My first gut instinct was there is no way that this is the one right by Xavier’s campus. We had only been walking for an hour, many of which was backtracking or debating which way to go. It had taken us 2 hours to walk there and that was when we had a pretty good sense of where we were heading. Plus the look of the tank was so different than what I had seen countless times before. Well, Sammy and Sam (new independent volunteer) decided to cut through the forest. When they got to the other side, they found a person who was willing to direct us to Xavier. Well, we must have looked like idiots. We were literally a 3-minute walk from Xavier at that point. So not only did we get lost, but we found a shortcut!

I’ll stop for now. I think we are both tired. Next time I’ll fill you about the trip to Tol and lots more. Enjoy the pictures as well! I miss you all and hope that you are enjoying your last few days of summer. School starts Sept. 1 and I am psyched to be teaching biology, chemistry, and now college counseling for the juniors and seniors. We just got new Chem textbooks, so I am beyond happy. Don’t forget to keep in touch. Peace.

-Steph

Off to Moch!

Ok, everyone - I'm heading out to Moch tomorrow morning. I've been fully warned that the boat ride will be pretty terrible, but also beautiful. I won't have any internet until August - so enjoy your July's! Enjoy some fireworks on the 4th for me and happy birthday dad! (of course really early). Love you
-Steph

School’s Out For Summer

I can honestly say that I do not know where April and May (and now June) went. April disappeared and May went almost too fast. With finals finishing around the 20th and graduation on the 23rd, there was a lot to celebrate – 32 graduates, the completion of my first year teaching, 10 (now 11) months away from home, etc. Let’s just say that with all of the boys heading back to their homes, as well as about half the staff, the hustle and bustle of Xavier quickly turned into a quiet boredom with lots of board game playing and reading. I’m still trying to appreciate the boredom, knowing what it could be if school was in session or if I was elsewhere. I finished reading the Pillars of the Earth – 973 pages. So if you know me well, you probably know that the longest book I read before coming to Micronesia was about 400 pages. My poor mother used to have to lock me in her room to read my summer reading growing up and I still wouldn’t read it. Ha ha somehow I always still did well. But to say the least, reading has never been my most favorite of hobbies. I have really tried to motivate myself here to read and I am starting to like it more. I am now reading its sequel – A World Without End. And with that book, once I finish it, I will finally be able to claim I have read a book longer than 1000 pages. (I recommend the Pillars of the Earth if you are looking for a good book).

Graduation was a great experience. Besides trying to keep ourselves blind to any seniors being stupid the last week, I truly enjoyed the graduation festivities. The week before graduation the staff prepared a dinner for the seniors. It was special in the sense that they got to eat in the “staff area,” all of the food was prepared by the staff, and we served them. Some of them asked for multiple cups of water just to capitalize on the notion of us tending to their very needs. It was great to sit down and enjoy their company. It’s sad to think I will probably not see many of them for a long time, if ever again. Then we presented the 2009 Bad Azz Awards – it was a big hit. They were basic superlatives written on paper certificates each attached to a roll of toilet paper. They loved it.

The Wednesday before graduation all of the seniors’ parents were invited up to campus for a barbecue prepared by the rest of the students. It was pretty cool to see the students dig up huge holes and make fire pits to cook long links of hot dogs strung through coconut “rope.” Remember, I live in Micronesia so allowing our students to play with fire isn’t received the same way it would be at home. These kids walk around with machetes only a daily basis. Ha ha In Pohnpei parents have to give written statements if they don’t want their students using machetes. Ironic, eh?

The Baccalaureate Mass was held at the cathedral since Xavier’s chapel isn’t large enough to fit everyone. Because of transportation the staff got dropped at the church about 3 hours early and then the mass started, oh say, 1 hour late so it was just one long afternoon. But the students looked pretty sophisticated with their silver and black suits and dresses. Graduation was the next morning. If only I could convey to you what graduation was really like. It was an overcast rainy day – and half of the staff still got burned. I swear this must be the only place in the world that you can sit under a tent on a rainy day and still get burned! Anyway, the seniors convinced the director to “roll” in to the ceremony on the school’s bus. Half of them wearing shades, they entered to the traditional graduation hymn after the bus honked enough to indicate their “esteemed arrival.” I just recall my own high school graduation and how strict it was. We weren’t allowed to wear flip flops – of course that didn’t apply here and our shoes were not even supposed to have a certain size heel. We definitely weren’t allowed to wear sunglasses. Anyways, the attire lended itself to a comfortable atmosphere. At any point in time during the ceremony, people would approach the graduates and “mar mar” them. The mar mar phenomenon was incredible – I mean really big time J. By the end of the ceremony some students must have had 50 or more mar mars around their neck, literally covering their entire face. And the ones made of money were the coolest. Although the money ones were rare, most of them were made of $1 bills. However, one student had one made of $5 and $10 bills. I looked at her and said, “Be careful with that. That’s more than most of us make in a month!” She just giggled and nodded. The two student speakers were the valedictorian and the salutatorian. They both did well – except for at the “end” of the valedictorian speech, she invited the salutatorian back up to help her “introduce” individually all of the other graduates. So one by one they took turns talking about each person. It was nice I guess for maybe the first three or four, but then it turned into – “This is ________. He is the cool guy…” And 40 minutes later, they finished. Wow! That was exhausting, although entertaining. I would say at least 3 students broke out into dancing when introduced – apparently very typical of a Micronesian graduation. I would have never had the guts to do that at my graduation. The reception wasn’t until night– to give the families (host families in most cases) of the graduates time to prepare food. Oh my gosh, there was soo much food! I think Josh talked about how big the graduation feast would be for weeks before graduation, but never did I expect a 60 foot food line. I would say the best part of graduation would have to be that we got to eat turtle multiple times. If you know anything about me, you know I am not a seafood eater, but turtle is delicious.

The week before the 2nd year JVI’s headed out, Katie, Josh, Meg and I decided to go snorkeling. Meg decided to “test” whether or not her camera was really waterproof and it worked so we got some decent pictures of the sites we saw. Although they aren’t the best pictures of the underwater life I have seen, they give you a taste of the wrecks from WW2. It’s crazy to think that I have passed over the wrecks multiple times in boats and had no idea. But we got to see an overturn boat, a submarine, and a plane. The boat was snapped in half and we could only see about half of it since the other half was too deep to see. The overall visibility was great. The boat driver drove us over a tanker as well. He told us it was a little secret since normally you have to pay more to go over that spot. I think he said it was 30 meters deep but we could see it pretty easily. It is supposed to be the best site for divers to go to since it is easy to swim through.

Then the big event to start off June was the ordination. I think I heard about the ordination for at least three months before it actually happened. One priest from one of the outer islands of Chuuk (Polowat) was being ordained and it was a big deal – really big time J. I have never seen so many Chuukese people in one spot. It was a neat Mass to watch, with Micronesian-style processions and such. After the mass was another feast with dancing. I didn’t get to see any of the dancing because I headed to volleyball and there were too many people to see anyway. But some people voted the feast the best they had had in Micronesia – all you can eat lobster is pretty good for seafood lovers I guess. So the picture of the nice and crisp pig is from the feast. I’m not actually sure how we got invited into the feast. It was announced as a lunch for special guests, but being a JVI on the island somewhat makes you a “special guest” wherever you go – even if you don’t want that label. Anyways, Polowat is a more traditional island and the guests from Polowat stayed at Saram while they were on island. So some of the men still went shirtless and only wear thuu’s – the wrap that looks somewhat like a skirt – when they were hanging around Saram.

The same day as the Ordination was a musical festival downtown. This might have been one of maybe a couple possible public social events through out the year. It was pretty cool – 4 local bands played a mixture of Chuukese and American music. A good night of dancing and time to hang out with local friends – on that note, its nice to say I finally have a mini social life among locals. While that in essence means something very different than what I am used to at home, it is still a good feeling to know I have made some true connections with local people that are about my age.

Last week was Re-O/Dis-O, the annual JVI retreat for either mid or end of service. It was held on Pisar – the paradise island if you remember me mentioning it previously. Well a hidden paradise that is. Not many tourists know about it – nor do many locals even make it there in their lifetime of living in the islands. I have had the great opportunity to visit Pisar a couple times. Re-O/Dis-O was 5 days and focused on spending time with the other JVI’s in Micronesia to reflect on the year and how we had struggled and grown. It was relaxing and a good time for reflection and renewal. While I truly have loved my experience thus far in the Nesia, it is always helpful to set aside time to think about why I am here and what I am doing here. It is a much more complicated issue than “to teach Biology and Chemistry” - I guess one that after 5 days of thought still leaves me with great questions.

Two of the JVI Program Staff, ie my bosses, visited to lead Re-O/Dis-O, and I invited them to watch my volleyball game on the day we got back from Pisar. Hence, it was the perfect time to get pictures at volleyball. I am usually shy to bring my camera down to Penia. The kids love it when I do, but it just brings me too much attention since there might only be one other person in the whole village who has a digital camera. Not to mention, then I always get this feeling that they want me to develop the photos for them. But the “tourists” taking pictures at the game would be acceptable and almost expected. I guess Robin said it well when he said it’s okay to take pictures on the first and the last day, otherwise its sufficiently awkward. So I passed my camera off to them and they took pictures of me playing with my local team. I actually played really well that day, which was nice since it was the first time I brought guests. And my team won. This week is playoffs so we will see how my team does.

To say the least, the last month has been summed up with countless trips to the airport and A LOT of goodbyes or “see you laters.” The 2 Jesuit scholastics finished their 2 year tour and headed out, along with the Peace Corp, the principal (a former JV), the 2 JVI’s and all of the students. There’s a lot of come and go at Xavier. Right now, I am one of 9 people living on campus so now we feel like a comparably small group. It’s kind of exciting that come August and September we will get a whole new group of volunteers.

And I guess I can’t head out without giving a note on my summer plans. As of right now, I plan on heading out to an island called Moch in the Mortlocks within the next week or so. Its over a day to get there by boat – but most likely that’s the way I’ll go at least one of the legs because it is much cheaper. I am really excited about the boat ride, although I know parts of it won’t be great. It is generally crowded and most people get seasick. But I can only imagine how beautiful a trip it will be. I will be teaching English to the summer school at the high school. There is only one high school out that way and no native English speakers at the school. The island is much more traditional and less developed than Weno i.e. no power and no internet. So throughout July, I will pretty much be out of contact. But don’t worry. There are satellite phones and such in case of emergencies. I will be staying with a family and probably thinking and reading A LOT! J So Happy birthday a little early Dad!! I love you! (And Happy Father's Day!)

Moch will be a great experience and I can’t wait to share it with you. I am really enjoying my time here as I near the finish of my first year. But I miss you all and welcome updates anytime! I hope everyone is doing well and I’d love to hear from you.

P.S. A shout out to June birthday’s – Maddie, Becca, Urse, and Kelly – I have surprises in route but not on American time.

Grandma's Back Porch - Happy Mother's Day

Sorry this took forever to post. I had it written in January, but Chuuk internet connections are not quite the most reliable. Enjoy.

Grandma’s Back Porch
By Stephanie Osborne, 2009

The swift breeze blew past my face. The current rolled past me.
Wisps of hair tickled my cheek. The rays of sun blinded me.
There was a rumble in the distance,
A jagged white line of crashing waves.
I walked slowly, feeling the dense, sharp coral below my feet.
The waters became stronger, knocking my legs off balance.
I looked down and between my feet sat a beautiful cowry shell.
It was more beautiful than any other shell I had ever found on the shore,
With its white background and dark speckles, polished and smooth,
Like the kind you find in a store.
It reminded me of the shiny cowry that used to sit on my Grandma’s back porch.
I know I was smiling. I picked it up, feeling special.
As I turned to show it to my friend, the wave knocked me.
The perfect cowry slipped between my fingers and fell,
Back into the reef below my feet.
I panicked. Hunting for it, the waves knocked me into the reef.
It was gone, camouflaged within the earth tones beneath me.
I walked away disappointed.
As I walked along the sands the next morning, the reef surprised me.
There it was.
Its brown and white speckled back slightly emerging from the dried out sand-
Polished and perfect.
I picked it up, held it tightly in my hand,
And thought, “Mom will love this.”

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!
I know this isn’t the first Mother’s Day I haven’t been home to celebrate with you, but hopefully you can feel my love and appreciation for you as much this year as any other. The shell in the package is the one from the poem. It is not only the most beautiful shell I have found in Micronesia, but it also holds sentimental meaning. Maybe it will even remind you of the cowry shell your mother kept on her back porch, also. That’s why it was so special to me when I found it back in December. She was the first person I thought of and then it became very obvious whom I would save it for – you. Happy Mother’s Day to you both. I love you.

To Mom, Aunt Caroline, Monica, Jenn, Aimee, Aunt Anne, Aunt Rhonda, Aunt Deborah, Josie, Sandy, Nana, Aunt Sally, Aunt Sue, Aunt Linda, Aunt Colleen, Ms. Hanlon, Ms. Cindy, Marcia, Gayle, Wendy, Donna, and Diane, and any other Mom out there, I wish you a happy and relaxing day. You are the unsung heroines of our world.

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