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.
Monday, December 8, 2008
Thursday, December 4, 2008
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
-Steph
Friday, November 28, 2008
Coconut Wireless Gone Bad and more...
Remember the game telephone we played back in second grade- well, today (now over a month ago…sorry I’ve been busy) in Chuuk was certainly a large-scale game of telephone gone bad. Mid-morning the principal came around to me and said that she had heard a rumor that a tidal wave was headed towards our island and was going to hit about 2:00pm. Even though the rumor came through the local police, she told us she wasn’t sure it was true, but she was looking into it. Apparently rumors like this have been unfounded before. We were instructed not to tell any of the students until we had more information, to remain calm, but to also be aware that we could be preparing for a potential natural disaster…the next 3 hours. We are located on a higher hill of the island, so our own safety was good. We were also told to not be caught off guard if a lot of locals started coming on campus since we are at a relatively high altitude. All in all, being a small speck in the middle of the Pacific amidst a tidal wave leaves you feeling pretty diminutive. Quickly I realized how difficult it is to figure out the “truth” about reality in Chuuk. There is no television, there is no radio, and when the power is off the computers, internet, and even some telephones do not work. Another volunteer that lives at Xavier but works at a school downtown had already been sent home because his school was preparing for the worst. Apparently the downtown was basic chaos as people feared for their families in outer islands of Chuuk (which would get hit worse if there were a tidal wave) and worried for their own safety. People came out and waited on their roofs. As soon as I was finished teaching and the power had turned back on, I hopped back on the internet and tried to look for any posted updates of tidal wave/tsunami threats. I found a website from the US National Weather Service which monitors the Pacific for tidal waves threats. It was 1:52pm and as I waited for the slow broadband to finally load the page, a couple volunteers and I chatted about the recent earthquake in Pakistan and how terrible it would be if this tsunami were real. After a couple minutes, I was calmed to find out they had just updated their site within the hour and no threat was listed.
Now, the question was why were the police yelling through the street to prepare for a tidal wave? It was conveyed as a serious threat, and above all, it came from the police, which you would think is a reliable source. Think again. After more searching on the Internet, another volunteer found committee meeting minutes from the organization that organizes disaster (specifically tsunami) preparedness in the Pacific region. The minutes stated that a drill would be held on October 29, 2008. Ha! So all of that for a stinking drill! Although this incident seemed small in the long run, since nothing really happened other than a lot of people were sent home from their jobs and school and felt scared as they prepared mentally for the possibility of a tsunami, it was striking to me. When I typically think of how developing countries lack materials or resources, I many times think in terms of food and water, housing, clothing, and education. As I spend more time in Chuuk, the extent of the “developing” nature of Chuuk becomes more and more apparent. Systems just don’t exist and the one that became the most apparent to me through this experience was communication. There is no newspaper, there is no local radio, there is no television station, the Internet is unreliable, and apparently so are authorities. While I am not the most loyal newspaper reader or news watcher back in America and listen to the radio mostly for its musical appeal, I have always had the luxury of knowing exactly where to go if I needed immediate information. I have taken this luxury largely for granted. For several hours I felt very powerless- obviously I could not stop an oncoming tsunami- but also because I could not even figure it out if it was true.
One last note on this event- even in Chuuk I was privileged. Xavier’s generator turned on and allowed me to use the Internet. Having a generator, a computer, and an Internet connection (although not always reliable) at my disposal still puts me way ahead the vast majority of Chuukese people. While people downtown waited out the afternoon on their roofs, I sighed when 2:10pm came around. I had realized the ridiculousness of the entire situation.
Ok…now for other info….
I have been able to go off island twice now: once to Tonoas for our fall JVI retreat and once to Parem for the junior retreat- a 3-day experience similar to Kairos, encounter, the junior retreat at GC, etc. Both weekends were really good experiences and nice breaks from Xavier. New settings and freedom from the chaos of the students is always a little refreshing, although I love the students also.
The weekend on Tonoas was planned as an immersion experience with a focus of interfaith dialogue/experience. The island was a Japanese center back in the 1930s and 1940s and holds a lot of history. We were really fortunate to have a local guide- an 82 year-old man named Lucas. He is the living history of the island. He formerly worked for both the Japanese and American navies pre and post-WW2 and watched the island undergo tremendous change, from an economic and social center of Japanese living in the early 1900s to a site of American bombings in WW2 and now to an island with pretty much nothing but inhabitants. One must take a boat into Weno to purchase anything since no established stores exist on the island anymore. This feature brings a specific beauty to the island. It is quiet, peaceful, and the people utilize mostly the natural sustenance of island, such as breadfruit, taro, bananas, coconut, etc. At first glance, it looks largely untainted by western culture.
On our first night we were welcomed with marmars and cold coconuts- the best I have had in Micronesia so far, followed by a FEAST! I mean a feast. There were about 10 of us but probably enough food to feed over 50 people. And it was all local and from what I had- delicious. Now pretty predictably I opted out of the seafood options. However, please be proud of me- I tried sashimi- raw tuna- a week or so ago and it was okay. People crave over it here as a delicacy. The next day we got to tour the island with Lucas. He showed us the remains of a hospital, the best local elementary school -Sino Memorial (pictures soon to come)- and the site of an old school for learning Japanese. Personally, I enjoyed just seeing the villages on the island and listening to Lucas’ stories more than anything. That day concluded with “entertainment,” apparently a pretty typical activity when guests come. The youth of the village got together and sang, danced, and did skits for us. Most of the time I didn’t really know what was going on since a lot of it was in Chuukese but it was still funny. The skits weren’t much of a surprise to some of the returning volunteers since they get recycled over and over again throughout the islands. Some of the returning volunteers would nod their heads once the skits started, “Oh, ok…this one.” It is somewhat funny to me that there’s a “pool” of skits to choose from that you use to entertain guests.
The most memorable moment of the weekend came as we were packing up. We all decided to get a picture sitting on the bench made of coconut wood, looking out into the water of the lagoon. It would be a perfect cap to the weekend. The window of the building we stayed in was at the perfect height to take a timed picture. So a couple of us set up our cameras and quickly ran to jump in the picture. We decided the first one didn’t go as well as planned and one more would be good. So as we all quickly jumped into the second photo, the bench collapsed! Here we are staying as guests at this church in a village of Tonoas where the people have treated us sooo well all weekend and as we are about to leave, we break their bench…Opps! The best part was that since we had 4 or 5 cameras timing the photo, the photos caught all of our reactions at different times. They are hilarious! I include mine in the photos going out soon. Probably everyone in the village heard us scream as well as could see us falling and laughing since we were on the top of the hill. They probably watched us as we desperately tried to rebuild their bench out of broken wood. I guess that’s what happens to wood in a climate that never dries. To say the least, I was blown away by the generosity of the people of Tonoas. They were hosts to us in a way very different than anything I have ever experienced or even thought to do for someone else or another group of people. On top of that, they didn’t get mad at us for breaking their bench.
Last weekend I got to go to Parem- the land of coconut trees- for the junior retreat. It is also the former site of the Japanese landing strip (for planes) during WW2, which is now just a bunch of broken up cement overgrown with coconut trees. Although the weekend was mostly occupied by the activities of the retreat, it also included a good amount of free time- at least enough to go swimming, enjoy the clear beautiful waters, and walk around the whole island. It wasn’t a very big island- small enough to walk around in a fast-paced hour or so. The best part of the weekend was just the opportunity it gave me to get to know and hang out with my students outside of the classroom.
However, it seems I can’t go anywhere without being taken aback by the generosity shown to me by the local people. During my walk around the island, I encountered a man who had just climbed a coconut tree to get down maybe 4 or 5 coconuts. Without any hesitation, as soon as he saw me, he extended his arm to give me a fresh coconut. Of course, I accepted, “Kinisou chapur.” So while I am slowly sipping from the coconut, he machette’d open another for himself. I have drank literally three sips when he threw the husk to the ground. I looked at him in disbelief, “A wes? (you finished).” While I finished about one half of a coconut, he gulped down 3. I would certainly lose at a coconut chugging contest. Once I had returned from the walk, we noticed that a volleyball net was hanging from a tree branch outside of the church. Without expecting the response of the locals, some of the students asked if we could borrow it since we had brought a volleyball but did not have a net. Literally within 5 minutes, the men we had asked had cut down coconut wood and begun digging 2 holes towards the edge of the shore to build a court right before our eyes. Within about 20 minutes we were playing volleyball. I was personally blown away.
I’d like to end the blog with an ode to Thanksgiving. This year, I am so thankful for everyone back home that is thinking of, supporting, and praying for me and for the people of Chuuk. You all are half the reason I am able to be here. It means a lot to know I have that backing. I am more thankful than ever for the 21 years of clean, warm shower water I have grown up with. I continue to hope that the plague of rashes will go away. I am thankful for the enthusiasm, smiles, and “thank-you’s” of my students; they make me realize more and more each day how much I have taken my own education for granted. And I am thankful for the possibility for progress.
Lastly I want to shout out to my family members Chris, Becky, Teresa, Mike, Monica, and Kevin who will all celebrate birthday’s in the next two weeks. HAPPY BIRTHDAY MEDICIN (everyone)!
Hope to hear from everyone soon and keep a lookout for the email of pictures.
Peace.
-Steph
P.S. Several nights ago I saw the largest spider I have ever seen in my life. It was in my room and it took me talking to myself to muster up the courage to kill it. Eventually I did, although I chased it around my room a bit before I was successful. It was bigger than the palm of my hand and I am still freaked out by it. It means they are living in the walls of my house. L I can’t wait for everyone to see the picture of it.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Something brought me all the way to a small dot in the Pacific...
From the moment I accepted my placement in Chuuk, Micronesia (after I smiled with excitement), my immediate afterthought somewhere inside of me was, “Why the heck have I been placed in Micronesia?” I had been studying the Spanish language since middle school, studied abroad in Madrid, become so interested in the language that I had considered majoring in it in college (however I ran out of time), and had passed the Spanish interview. Yet, despite my love for Spanish, my desire para dominar la lengua (to become fluent), and my hope to be placed in Central or South America, I had been placed half way across the world in a country that spoke Chuukese. Now, my second afterthought was, “What the heck is Chuukese?” So I trusted the decision on behalf of JVI- trusting that for some reason, probably many reasons, somehow Chuuk was the right place for me. I remained optimistic, even though my gut wanted to be disappointed, that my experiences in Chuuk would be different, but worthwhile.
Typical of myself, going with the wind, I departed from the US on Aug. 4, calm and contained, yet excited and anxious. I’ve almost been in Chuuk for 3 months. Now I am certain that all I have to learn has not yet been presented to me- I may not recognize or piece it all together until even after I leave this place, but there is one thing that I can saying is already brewing inside of me. Growing up, I have repeatedly heard the phrase, “God works in mysterious ways.” And I would say this applies to this. Why did I need to come all the way to Chuuk to learn this about myself? Who knows? Well you are probably wondering what the heck I am talking about by now so I’ll end the suspense.
The last month and a half or so I have been experiencing uncomfortable rashes all over my body. In the last 2 weeks they have been the worst, until about the last couple of days. They are on the tops of my feet, my ankles, calves and thighs, my butt, back, and stomach, my forearms, wrists, and shoulders – you probably are getting the point that they are practically anywhere and everywhere on my body. They itch a lot and are like little red bumps. No it is not heat rash- its suspected to be a bacterial infection. I have been recently treating it with Neosporin and a steroid and they have been improving. However, last week my skin problems culminated with a boil on the back of my upper-upper thigh. It hurt! I was sitting lop-sided-ly to avoid putting pressure on it and walking awkwardly when students weren’t around to watch me. No, I didn’t give up showering when I came here - this is just what happens when you shower with bacteria-filled water and sweat a lot.
Since the beginning of the year, when I started teaching biology and chemistry, I knew that my love for science had been reignited. It was my favorite subject growing up and somewhere during my young adult search for what to do with my life, I somewhat abandoned it. I realized within a couple of weeks of teaching that I really did always like it along the way and wanted to be able to incorporate it more into my future career plans. These feelings, intensified by my frustrations with the poor water situations in developing countries, helped me to realize that I wanted to pursue something related to human health and environmental impacts. Flirting with the idea of medicine (although it would incorporate a lot of science) just didn’t entirely feel right. Besides my 5-year old aspirations to “continue my daddy’s private practice,” the idea of listening to medical tapes about gross bowel problems and looking at nasty photos of diseases has never thrilled me. Overall, I think medicine would be hard for me to be passionate about. With some more thinking – I recalled how my cousin Monica had introduced me to “public health” when I helped out at the office for the Association of Schools of Public Health last winter. Well, thanks Monica, I think you may have planted a seed.
I started researching more in the last month and came across environmental health sciences- a branch of public health. This fits me! I have started researching graduate school programs and while the internet takes forever and the progress is slow- I am getting more and more excited. It seems like a great field that fits all of my interests- I can pick a program based on the amount of science I want. I can apply it to international contexts and it is something that I am passionate about. We cannot have healthy people without healthy environments.
So why did I have to come all the way to Chuuk to connect the dots? Your guess is as good as mine. I guess I am hard-headed. I figure that if I start researching schools now I am on schedule. It’s this time next year that I would need to apply- and well the progress is pretty slow with the resources here (and you know me- this of course is not written in stone).
As for me being in Chuuk, there are still a lot of unanswered questions. And that's okay for now.
Anyways- enough about my future-
This past weekend was the “Girls’ Gathering” at Xavier. So on Friday, all of the girls stayed on campus inside of driving back to their host families. They spent the night, didn’t sleep, ate lots of junk food, and picnicked on Saturday. It was a great opportunity for them to spend time with each other and bond, but oh so hilarious to witness. Maybe I am being biased and choosing not to recall how silly I actually was when I was 13-17, but it was certainly entertaining.
The night started with a game similar to what we Americans know as Truth or Dare. The girls persuaded me to play and the way it worked was that everyone sat in a circle and passed a bottle. This part was like hot potato. If you were holding the bottle when the music stopped playing, you had to pick a piece of paper out of a bag that either had a truth or a dare. Well, of course they rigged it to stop on me. So when I picked my paper, it read, “Which senior boy do you think likes you and why?” I laughed and said I couldn’t answer it. I read two words and the girls screamed so hard that I had to stop to be heard. They were so excited and thought I could actually reasonably answer the question. Then I said I have a joke with a male staff member – we have a love/hate relationship. They asked what I liked most about him and I said his jaw line (what, who looks at jaw lines? But it was an easy way for them to leave me alone without really saying much) And of course they all screamed with excitement. The next day a couple of them asked me if it was really true and I confidently said, “No, it was a joke.” Their looks of disappointment were so big, as if I could actually share dark, juicy, personal secrets of mine with them (not that I have many dark, juicy, personal secrets anyway). Then they smiled and I explained how answering that question honestly would be unprofessional and weird, similar to them choosing what 10 year-old child they babysat for had a crush on them, in front of the children themselves. Then they understood and were still happy I played.
There were more funny events of the weekend that just left me laughing, but those will be saved for a later conversation (for what happens at girl’s gathering is pretty much top secret out here in Weno- or at least they like to tell everyone that even though all the boys somehow find out the next morning). The picnic the next day by the beach was nice and sunny. Several girls pitched in money to rent a canoe for the day so that turned into a constant-lets-see-who-we-can-tip-off-the-canoe game. Once lunch came out, the girls started to have a huge icing fight with the cake so half the cake’s icing went to the girls’ faces. It amazed me that most of them didn’t care at all. Many didn’t even bother to wipe it off and just play volleyball for an hour or two with icing smeared all over their faces.
The month of November should be pretty busy. Things on the agenda: This weekend I am going off-island (hooray, my first break from Weno) to Tolowas for a JV retreat. Then, in 2 weekends, the Xavier Staff retreat will be on-island, but at Blue Lagoon (about an hours drive from Xavier on the other side of the island by the nice beaches). The weekend following, I will help chaperone/lead the Junior Retreat. I’m excited for it because it is always nice to be able to get to know the students in a non-academic setting. Then the last week, Katie and Josh’s families will be visiting, as well as it will be Thanksgiving. Woah! That’s a lot. So if you don’t hear from me, I’ll catch up more in December.
As for this week, the Juniors are supposed to put together a “Haunted Hallway.” We’ll see how it goes. Happy early birthday to Jenn! Talk soon.
-Steph
Typical of myself, going with the wind, I departed from the US on Aug. 4, calm and contained, yet excited and anxious. I’ve almost been in Chuuk for 3 months. Now I am certain that all I have to learn has not yet been presented to me- I may not recognize or piece it all together until even after I leave this place, but there is one thing that I can saying is already brewing inside of me. Growing up, I have repeatedly heard the phrase, “God works in mysterious ways.” And I would say this applies to this. Why did I need to come all the way to Chuuk to learn this about myself? Who knows? Well you are probably wondering what the heck I am talking about by now so I’ll end the suspense.
The last month and a half or so I have been experiencing uncomfortable rashes all over my body. In the last 2 weeks they have been the worst, until about the last couple of days. They are on the tops of my feet, my ankles, calves and thighs, my butt, back, and stomach, my forearms, wrists, and shoulders – you probably are getting the point that they are practically anywhere and everywhere on my body. They itch a lot and are like little red bumps. No it is not heat rash- its suspected to be a bacterial infection. I have been recently treating it with Neosporin and a steroid and they have been improving. However, last week my skin problems culminated with a boil on the back of my upper-upper thigh. It hurt! I was sitting lop-sided-ly to avoid putting pressure on it and walking awkwardly when students weren’t around to watch me. No, I didn’t give up showering when I came here - this is just what happens when you shower with bacteria-filled water and sweat a lot.
Since the beginning of the year, when I started teaching biology and chemistry, I knew that my love for science had been reignited. It was my favorite subject growing up and somewhere during my young adult search for what to do with my life, I somewhat abandoned it. I realized within a couple of weeks of teaching that I really did always like it along the way and wanted to be able to incorporate it more into my future career plans. These feelings, intensified by my frustrations with the poor water situations in developing countries, helped me to realize that I wanted to pursue something related to human health and environmental impacts. Flirting with the idea of medicine (although it would incorporate a lot of science) just didn’t entirely feel right. Besides my 5-year old aspirations to “continue my daddy’s private practice,” the idea of listening to medical tapes about gross bowel problems and looking at nasty photos of diseases has never thrilled me. Overall, I think medicine would be hard for me to be passionate about. With some more thinking – I recalled how my cousin Monica had introduced me to “public health” when I helped out at the office for the Association of Schools of Public Health last winter. Well, thanks Monica, I think you may have planted a seed.
I started researching more in the last month and came across environmental health sciences- a branch of public health. This fits me! I have started researching graduate school programs and while the internet takes forever and the progress is slow- I am getting more and more excited. It seems like a great field that fits all of my interests- I can pick a program based on the amount of science I want. I can apply it to international contexts and it is something that I am passionate about. We cannot have healthy people without healthy environments.
So why did I have to come all the way to Chuuk to connect the dots? Your guess is as good as mine. I guess I am hard-headed. I figure that if I start researching schools now I am on schedule. It’s this time next year that I would need to apply- and well the progress is pretty slow with the resources here (and you know me- this of course is not written in stone).
As for me being in Chuuk, there are still a lot of unanswered questions. And that's okay for now.
Anyways- enough about my future-
This past weekend was the “Girls’ Gathering” at Xavier. So on Friday, all of the girls stayed on campus inside of driving back to their host families. They spent the night, didn’t sleep, ate lots of junk food, and picnicked on Saturday. It was a great opportunity for them to spend time with each other and bond, but oh so hilarious to witness. Maybe I am being biased and choosing not to recall how silly I actually was when I was 13-17, but it was certainly entertaining.
The night started with a game similar to what we Americans know as Truth or Dare. The girls persuaded me to play and the way it worked was that everyone sat in a circle and passed a bottle. This part was like hot potato. If you were holding the bottle when the music stopped playing, you had to pick a piece of paper out of a bag that either had a truth or a dare. Well, of course they rigged it to stop on me. So when I picked my paper, it read, “Which senior boy do you think likes you and why?” I laughed and said I couldn’t answer it. I read two words and the girls screamed so hard that I had to stop to be heard. They were so excited and thought I could actually reasonably answer the question. Then I said I have a joke with a male staff member – we have a love/hate relationship. They asked what I liked most about him and I said his jaw line (what, who looks at jaw lines? But it was an easy way for them to leave me alone without really saying much) And of course they all screamed with excitement. The next day a couple of them asked me if it was really true and I confidently said, “No, it was a joke.” Their looks of disappointment were so big, as if I could actually share dark, juicy, personal secrets of mine with them (not that I have many dark, juicy, personal secrets anyway). Then they smiled and I explained how answering that question honestly would be unprofessional and weird, similar to them choosing what 10 year-old child they babysat for had a crush on them, in front of the children themselves. Then they understood and were still happy I played.
There were more funny events of the weekend that just left me laughing, but those will be saved for a later conversation (for what happens at girl’s gathering is pretty much top secret out here in Weno- or at least they like to tell everyone that even though all the boys somehow find out the next morning). The picnic the next day by the beach was nice and sunny. Several girls pitched in money to rent a canoe for the day so that turned into a constant-lets-see-who-we-can-tip-off-the-canoe game. Once lunch came out, the girls started to have a huge icing fight with the cake so half the cake’s icing went to the girls’ faces. It amazed me that most of them didn’t care at all. Many didn’t even bother to wipe it off and just play volleyball for an hour or two with icing smeared all over their faces.
The month of November should be pretty busy. Things on the agenda: This weekend I am going off-island (hooray, my first break from Weno) to Tolowas for a JV retreat. Then, in 2 weekends, the Xavier Staff retreat will be on-island, but at Blue Lagoon (about an hours drive from Xavier on the other side of the island by the nice beaches). The weekend following, I will help chaperone/lead the Junior Retreat. I’m excited for it because it is always nice to be able to get to know the students in a non-academic setting. Then the last week, Katie and Josh’s families will be visiting, as well as it will be Thanksgiving. Woah! That’s a lot. So if you don’t hear from me, I’ll catch up more in December.
As for this week, the Juniors are supposed to put together a “Haunted Hallway.” We’ll see how it goes. Happy early birthday to Jenn! Talk soon.
-Steph
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
The Micronesian Suitcase
The room was calm and comfortable. 6 women, including myself, sat Indian style on the cool cement floor - slowly wrapping the recently pounded breadfruit with clean, crisp, green banana leaves. The father lay several feet away overseeing the progress. One by one we filled the suitcase with gifts for her relatives- breadfruit, coconut oil, tapioca, mussels, fish, and more. The goods were precious. The pace was slow. The room was peaceful. Few words were needed.
With each item that was placed in the suitcase, one more was kept on the floor, reserved for the guest. I knew this meant me. My throat became dry and my face grinned.
“Try, try.”
In her broken soft English, she handed me the slimy gray strand of food that could only be named “from the water.”
“Try, try.”
Humbly, I accepted in appreciation for her gift. I grinned hesitantly - anxious and fearful that I would not like it knowing that a plateful was awaiting me. 12 eyes were watching intently. I began to chew and smile. I swallowed and tried another. I invited the other women to join and we all began eating. Despite feeling nervous, the experience was gratifying. Their generosity was attached to no expectations other than to share with me all of the little that they had.
The tapioca was sliced- soft and slightly sweet, like chewy candy. We all smiled. Some giggled.
The efforts continued. As we wrapped the gutted raw fish, I tried to slow my mind. It wanted to wander. It wondered if this fish was really going to be eaten a day from now. Instead, I trusted and kept wrapping.
We zipped the two humble suitcases and set them by the door. 6 hours remained until the trip to the airport. We sat on the rocks as the sun fell into the water. The sky became orange, then pink,
gray, and then black.
We sat in each others’ company knowing that it would be months before we would see each other again. Little words were spoken, but smiles were exchanged.
Friendship is powerful. It moves hearts and minds. In only two months, I know she moved my heart- with her gracious smiles, soft voice, and compassionate spirit. She made me feel at home.
I took me weeks to hear her voice- subtle, but dignified. She was patient. She trusted.
She left with ambition - to find a job, attend college, and support her now far-away family. Two suitcases in hand, filled only with gifts for others.
Two suitcases in hand, filled only with gifts for others. She took nothing for herself.
I recall three months ago. As I scurried to fill my two suitcases, I pondered every thing I thought I would need. I gathered clothes, medicines, keepsakes, odds and ends. I felt prepared.
I was foolish. Things cannot prepare you when you look different, when you feel out of place, or when you do not know what to say.
Things cannot prepare you for your heart to be touched.
The small handshake of an excited four-year old communicates enough.
In Micronesia, a little is seemingly always enough.
With each item that was placed in the suitcase, one more was kept on the floor, reserved for the guest. I knew this meant me. My throat became dry and my face grinned.
“Try, try.”
In her broken soft English, she handed me the slimy gray strand of food that could only be named “from the water.”
“Try, try.”
Humbly, I accepted in appreciation for her gift. I grinned hesitantly - anxious and fearful that I would not like it knowing that a plateful was awaiting me. 12 eyes were watching intently. I began to chew and smile. I swallowed and tried another. I invited the other women to join and we all began eating. Despite feeling nervous, the experience was gratifying. Their generosity was attached to no expectations other than to share with me all of the little that they had.
The tapioca was sliced- soft and slightly sweet, like chewy candy. We all smiled. Some giggled.
The efforts continued. As we wrapped the gutted raw fish, I tried to slow my mind. It wanted to wander. It wondered if this fish was really going to be eaten a day from now. Instead, I trusted and kept wrapping.
We zipped the two humble suitcases and set them by the door. 6 hours remained until the trip to the airport. We sat on the rocks as the sun fell into the water. The sky became orange, then pink,
gray, and then black.
We sat in each others’ company knowing that it would be months before we would see each other again. Little words were spoken, but smiles were exchanged.
Friendship is powerful. It moves hearts and minds. In only two months, I know she moved my heart- with her gracious smiles, soft voice, and compassionate spirit. She made me feel at home.
I took me weeks to hear her voice- subtle, but dignified. She was patient. She trusted.
She left with ambition - to find a job, attend college, and support her now far-away family. Two suitcases in hand, filled only with gifts for others.
Two suitcases in hand, filled only with gifts for others. She took nothing for herself.
I recall three months ago. As I scurried to fill my two suitcases, I pondered every thing I thought I would need. I gathered clothes, medicines, keepsakes, odds and ends. I felt prepared.
I was foolish. Things cannot prepare you when you look different, when you feel out of place, or when you do not know what to say.
Things cannot prepare you for your heart to be touched.
The small handshake of an excited four-year old communicates enough.
In Micronesia, a little is seemingly always enough.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
So if a little fallen gecko poop on your arm is not enough of a welcome
This was actually written over a week ago but because of power and other such things, I haven’t been able to post it. So it’s a little longer than normal. Enjoy anyway.
Note: If you are one of my cousins reading this to young children- read this paragraph first. The rest of the blog is safe- but this is a little disturbing.
I apparently had not yet been welcomed enough in Chuuk. I think that yesterday I saw the most disturbing thing I have seen in Chuuk thus far. I was walking to my volleyball practice. It was about 3:30pm and as I passed the forested area that is normally a hang out spot for the routine drinkers, I noticed a couple of men preparing a campfire while a couple others were pulling dogs by a rope. Next thing I knew- the men threw the rope over a tree and pulled it as hard as they could in order to hang the dogs. I certainly did not ask to witness this nor was I warned. So as I tried to ignore the pitiful yelping noises coming from the dog as it gasped for air, the men picked up large sticks and starting whacking at the dogs’ heads. My whole body cringed as I tried to walk even faster and clear my mind of the brutal image I was just left with. I tried to just tell myself “it’s okay. I live in Chuuk now.” Yes, people eat dog here and it is not uncommon for people to slaughter their own animals whether they are chickens, pigs, or dogs, etc. Dog is not only a meat people eat, but it is almost a class above most other (gross, but then again who knows when the opportunity will arise when I will be served it). To say the least, my westernized perspective that values domesticated pets and animal rights found this nauseating.
No animals are domesticated in Chuuk really. Cats are seen as bringing good luck by some, but despised by others. And people are known to kick or throw rocks and sticks at dogs. So with that being said, I had the pleasure of taking in a small kitten that I named Cinnamon, or Cimmy for short (thanks Mom), a couple weeks ago. She was starved and so weak that she could not even move her back legs. For the first couple of nights we kept her inside some of the volunteers’ offices for protection from “predators” and fed her canned tuna. This drew some very polar reactions among the staff, who come from a wide variety of backgrounds and have diverse attitudes towards animals. Within a couple of days, Cimmy (who also goes by “Shingles”) had developed enough strength to walk and roam like any other curious cats. Those of us taking care of her decided it would be good to “free” her to the Rec House- a gazebo-like structure behind Xavier. Well, then problems arose since there is a lack of communication of how the Xavier community was going to keep Cimmy as a pet. She sometimes rebels and wanders upstairs to the porch/kitchen area where we played with her during her first few days of recovery and leaves her “trail.” Understandably this is upsetting for people that live here. And while I am a proponent of keeping Cimmy around Xavier and training her to stay outside, others want to kill her. Cimmy lives in Chuuk – just that fact makes her hardy and undomesticated- so her survival outside is very possible now that she is not at immediate risk of death.
Apparently last year there came a time when the old director was paying employees for dead or caught cats around Xavier because of the problems they were causing (Note: The entrance to Xavier is open on both sides on the ground level so anything can wander in). While in the scheme of things this situation is not a big deal, it does somewhat upset me. Luckily, when I first wrote this blog, it was full of venting thoughts. Since then, I have been able to edit it and say things have calmed down towards Cimmy. People aren’t expressing such distaste towards her now that she is starting to “follow rules.” And I have a new adorable friend. I just crack up now every time I watch her have a stare contest with the very curious campus dog, Puma. Although she is about 1/100 of his size, she carries more presence and is not scared of him. One swipe of her hand and he backs off.
Cimmy is getting a little bigger, but is still adorable and loves to crawl up on me and curl into a ball. We have a nightly date, which usually results in me ending up with itchy legs for mosquitos.
Last weekend my Chuukese friend, Nievic, told me that she would be leaving this coming Sunday to return to Hawaii for school. She will be working to continue her third year of college at Chaminade, and while I must be happy for her and encourage her to go, I’m also sad. She was my first Chuukese friend in Weno and she has done a lot for me thus far. We play on the same volleyball team and she knows the most English of the players since she has been to school in the states before and can help me with translating a lot. She was also the first to treat me with local medicine- good ol’ coconut oil on a gash I got on my knee. It apparently heals wounds well, and while I later also cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide and antibiotic ointment, it healed well. Last Sunday she invited me over to her house and made me soki-sok. It is a type of banana cooked with coconut milk- very common here and very good. But they don’t use the good-ol’ Chiquita types of bananas you are probably familiar with. There are several types of bananas here on island, and the kind used in soki-sok are very starchy. You wouldn’t eat them plain and people term them “cooking bananas.” Then we had “sardines,” which was actually canned mackerel. I asked her if she thought it tasted like tuna fish because that is exactly what I thought it tasted like, but she quickly shook her hand no and said it tastes different. So for those of you reading this that know me well and as having a “refined palette,” that apparently does not apply when we talk about “canned fish.” I am making baby steps with seafood here. You probably know I am not a fan of it, and while the opportunity to eat it is frequent, I try to steer clear. Probably the most exotic thing I have tried is sea cucumber (flavored to be salty and spicy, but slimy like worms) and it was actually okay to me. I haven’t quite mustered up the courage for shashimi –raw fish, sushi like- yet.
Moving on-
A lot has happened at school since I last posted- we have hosted a group of Australian high school students for an immersion trip, we have held freshmen “Entertainment” Day, and held a dedication ceremony thanking the Mabuchi Corporation of Japan for their generous gift of waterproofing the school’s roof over the summer- a project that cost close to three-fourths of a million dollars. For both the Australians and Japanese visitors, the students performed traditional dances. It was really cool for me to watch. They dressed up in grass skirts or traditional thu’s (which are basically a cloth flap tied around a males’ privates like you see on maybe the Discovery or History channel) and covered themselves in coconut oil and “tribal paint.” The dances were very well done, with a lot of chanting, although it was a little weird for me to see some of my students basically half-naked. They even did a fire tossing performance. About 10-12 of the boys twirled “batons” of coconut wood whose ends were lit on fire. It was impressive and dangerous. Only one of the boys accidentally burned a part of his toe. This would have never ever happened in an American school! I’m excited to send pictures soon.
The entertainment day was ridiculous- it was basically a 2 hour show of upperclassmen cross-dressing and posing as freshmen. The freshmen loved it. I didn’t agree with it. In my opinion it was inappropriate and certainly did not necessitate students to miss class, which happened, but culturally cross-dressing is extremely entertaining. I guess we are also dealing with the maturity of 13-17 year olds.
The school received a plentiful donation of sports equipment from the Australians, which was much appreciated. As for the immersion experience, I don’t know how much of an immersion trip it actually was since the Australians only spent one night sleeping on campus- the rest they spent at a hotel, the nicest hotel actually, in Weno. But they remarked that they were very moved by their experiences. They spent one morning learning how to build the huts out of coconut leaves/wood. It was encouraging to see the students get excited to host the boys, and I think both groups learned from the experience. I am guessing the Australians’ experiences were profound since they come from what I have heard is the wealthiest boarding school in Sydney. They experienced the 1 to 1.5 hour bus trip from their hotel to Xavier every day on the pitiful road of Weno. The trip is only about 9 miles so that will give you an idea of the condition of the road. As well as they passed through the “downtown” and several villages, exposing the hardships of the Chuukese people- the lack of a sewer or trash collection system, the pothole-filled road, the long stretches of sheet metal posted to give the people some privacy to their very humble houses, some which would be labeled shacks. However, they also enjoyed the luxury of paying a company to go snorkeling, which the locals would never do and participated in other sight seeing on other islands.
The student body’s goodbye to them on Thursday actually brought tears to my eyes. Micronesians are extremely heartfelt people from what I have experienced thus far. They express emotion and thanks in a different way than I am used to- a uniquely warm way. They are very intentional about it. The students gathered around the Australians- literally only leaving room for them to breathe. Envision about 10 people crowd by a group of about 130. No, personal space is not really honored here. With their arms stretched out, the students sang to them. Students are not scared of singing here- I love that about them. I think it was the words of the song that actually got me. It spoke about how they had touched each others lives and while they depart or separate, they hold each other alive in their hearts and their memories. I think it made me think of home and the love I felt when I left in July. May not sound like much, but the couple of minutes were peacefully beautiful and reminded me of how much I appreciate everyone back home and the generosity that has been shown and shared with me in the last few months. Thanks again. (Can you believe it is almost 3 months since my send-off? Wow.)
I have started teaching the students and other neighborhood kids how to do backbends and other gymnastics skills. I have actually perfected my backbend (T, you would be proud). It’s ironic that I didn’t do so in the 4 years I taught gymnastics from an actual gym with mats and such, but demonstrating the skills is an easy way to grab the kids’ attention and connect with them, especially when a lot of the village kids speak no English. They are always impressed to see that I can do it and want to learn. It’s great. The other days I started playing and dancing with these 4 girls between the ages of 3 and 10. I have to tell you- no joke the 3 year-old could shake her hips better than I can (which doesn’t say much ha ha but you get the idea). They start training them for hula early.
So before I end this very long blog (sorry for that), I want to say one thing. I am beginning to feel very settled. Marca, my volleyball coach, told me yesterday that she wants me to know that her and her relatives consider me part of their family now. While I still know barely any Chuukese and obviously nobody can replace those I love from home, my adjustment is coming along slowly but surely. Thanks for all the continued support. I do feel like in some way I don’t really understand yet, Chuuk is where I am supposed to be right now.
Hope to hear from you soon.
-Steph
Random thoughts:
Living in Chuuk has truly solidified my belief that poverty encourages resourcefulness and creativity. Every now and then I see things that really strike me as being extremely creative in lack of better resources. For instance, using a box that a six-pack of soda bottles or cans would come in to create a hat with a stiff bill or using torn up cardboard box pieces or banana leaves as fans for small relief from the stifling heat and lack of electric fans or AC. I’m disappointed I can’t think of more, but they will come to me later.
Note: If you are one of my cousins reading this to young children- read this paragraph first. The rest of the blog is safe- but this is a little disturbing.
I apparently had not yet been welcomed enough in Chuuk. I think that yesterday I saw the most disturbing thing I have seen in Chuuk thus far. I was walking to my volleyball practice. It was about 3:30pm and as I passed the forested area that is normally a hang out spot for the routine drinkers, I noticed a couple of men preparing a campfire while a couple others were pulling dogs by a rope. Next thing I knew- the men threw the rope over a tree and pulled it as hard as they could in order to hang the dogs. I certainly did not ask to witness this nor was I warned. So as I tried to ignore the pitiful yelping noises coming from the dog as it gasped for air, the men picked up large sticks and starting whacking at the dogs’ heads. My whole body cringed as I tried to walk even faster and clear my mind of the brutal image I was just left with. I tried to just tell myself “it’s okay. I live in Chuuk now.” Yes, people eat dog here and it is not uncommon for people to slaughter their own animals whether they are chickens, pigs, or dogs, etc. Dog is not only a meat people eat, but it is almost a class above most other (gross, but then again who knows when the opportunity will arise when I will be served it). To say the least, my westernized perspective that values domesticated pets and animal rights found this nauseating.
No animals are domesticated in Chuuk really. Cats are seen as bringing good luck by some, but despised by others. And people are known to kick or throw rocks and sticks at dogs. So with that being said, I had the pleasure of taking in a small kitten that I named Cinnamon, or Cimmy for short (thanks Mom), a couple weeks ago. She was starved and so weak that she could not even move her back legs. For the first couple of nights we kept her inside some of the volunteers’ offices for protection from “predators” and fed her canned tuna. This drew some very polar reactions among the staff, who come from a wide variety of backgrounds and have diverse attitudes towards animals. Within a couple of days, Cimmy (who also goes by “Shingles”) had developed enough strength to walk and roam like any other curious cats. Those of us taking care of her decided it would be good to “free” her to the Rec House- a gazebo-like structure behind Xavier. Well, then problems arose since there is a lack of communication of how the Xavier community was going to keep Cimmy as a pet. She sometimes rebels and wanders upstairs to the porch/kitchen area where we played with her during her first few days of recovery and leaves her “trail.” Understandably this is upsetting for people that live here. And while I am a proponent of keeping Cimmy around Xavier and training her to stay outside, others want to kill her. Cimmy lives in Chuuk – just that fact makes her hardy and undomesticated- so her survival outside is very possible now that she is not at immediate risk of death.
Apparently last year there came a time when the old director was paying employees for dead or caught cats around Xavier because of the problems they were causing (Note: The entrance to Xavier is open on both sides on the ground level so anything can wander in). While in the scheme of things this situation is not a big deal, it does somewhat upset me. Luckily, when I first wrote this blog, it was full of venting thoughts. Since then, I have been able to edit it and say things have calmed down towards Cimmy. People aren’t expressing such distaste towards her now that she is starting to “follow rules.” And I have a new adorable friend. I just crack up now every time I watch her have a stare contest with the very curious campus dog, Puma. Although she is about 1/100 of his size, she carries more presence and is not scared of him. One swipe of her hand and he backs off.
Cimmy is getting a little bigger, but is still adorable and loves to crawl up on me and curl into a ball. We have a nightly date, which usually results in me ending up with itchy legs for mosquitos.
Last weekend my Chuukese friend, Nievic, told me that she would be leaving this coming Sunday to return to Hawaii for school. She will be working to continue her third year of college at Chaminade, and while I must be happy for her and encourage her to go, I’m also sad. She was my first Chuukese friend in Weno and she has done a lot for me thus far. We play on the same volleyball team and she knows the most English of the players since she has been to school in the states before and can help me with translating a lot. She was also the first to treat me with local medicine- good ol’ coconut oil on a gash I got on my knee. It apparently heals wounds well, and while I later also cleaned it with hydrogen peroxide and antibiotic ointment, it healed well. Last Sunday she invited me over to her house and made me soki-sok. It is a type of banana cooked with coconut milk- very common here and very good. But they don’t use the good-ol’ Chiquita types of bananas you are probably familiar with. There are several types of bananas here on island, and the kind used in soki-sok are very starchy. You wouldn’t eat them plain and people term them “cooking bananas.” Then we had “sardines,” which was actually canned mackerel. I asked her if she thought it tasted like tuna fish because that is exactly what I thought it tasted like, but she quickly shook her hand no and said it tastes different. So for those of you reading this that know me well and as having a “refined palette,” that apparently does not apply when we talk about “canned fish.” I am making baby steps with seafood here. You probably know I am not a fan of it, and while the opportunity to eat it is frequent, I try to steer clear. Probably the most exotic thing I have tried is sea cucumber (flavored to be salty and spicy, but slimy like worms) and it was actually okay to me. I haven’t quite mustered up the courage for shashimi –raw fish, sushi like- yet.
Moving on-
A lot has happened at school since I last posted- we have hosted a group of Australian high school students for an immersion trip, we have held freshmen “Entertainment” Day, and held a dedication ceremony thanking the Mabuchi Corporation of Japan for their generous gift of waterproofing the school’s roof over the summer- a project that cost close to three-fourths of a million dollars. For both the Australians and Japanese visitors, the students performed traditional dances. It was really cool for me to watch. They dressed up in grass skirts or traditional thu’s (which are basically a cloth flap tied around a males’ privates like you see on maybe the Discovery or History channel) and covered themselves in coconut oil and “tribal paint.” The dances were very well done, with a lot of chanting, although it was a little weird for me to see some of my students basically half-naked. They even did a fire tossing performance. About 10-12 of the boys twirled “batons” of coconut wood whose ends were lit on fire. It was impressive and dangerous. Only one of the boys accidentally burned a part of his toe. This would have never ever happened in an American school! I’m excited to send pictures soon.
The entertainment day was ridiculous- it was basically a 2 hour show of upperclassmen cross-dressing and posing as freshmen. The freshmen loved it. I didn’t agree with it. In my opinion it was inappropriate and certainly did not necessitate students to miss class, which happened, but culturally cross-dressing is extremely entertaining. I guess we are also dealing with the maturity of 13-17 year olds.
The school received a plentiful donation of sports equipment from the Australians, which was much appreciated. As for the immersion experience, I don’t know how much of an immersion trip it actually was since the Australians only spent one night sleeping on campus- the rest they spent at a hotel, the nicest hotel actually, in Weno. But they remarked that they were very moved by their experiences. They spent one morning learning how to build the huts out of coconut leaves/wood. It was encouraging to see the students get excited to host the boys, and I think both groups learned from the experience. I am guessing the Australians’ experiences were profound since they come from what I have heard is the wealthiest boarding school in Sydney. They experienced the 1 to 1.5 hour bus trip from their hotel to Xavier every day on the pitiful road of Weno. The trip is only about 9 miles so that will give you an idea of the condition of the road. As well as they passed through the “downtown” and several villages, exposing the hardships of the Chuukese people- the lack of a sewer or trash collection system, the pothole-filled road, the long stretches of sheet metal posted to give the people some privacy to their very humble houses, some which would be labeled shacks. However, they also enjoyed the luxury of paying a company to go snorkeling, which the locals would never do and participated in other sight seeing on other islands.
The student body’s goodbye to them on Thursday actually brought tears to my eyes. Micronesians are extremely heartfelt people from what I have experienced thus far. They express emotion and thanks in a different way than I am used to- a uniquely warm way. They are very intentional about it. The students gathered around the Australians- literally only leaving room for them to breathe. Envision about 10 people crowd by a group of about 130. No, personal space is not really honored here. With their arms stretched out, the students sang to them. Students are not scared of singing here- I love that about them. I think it was the words of the song that actually got me. It spoke about how they had touched each others lives and while they depart or separate, they hold each other alive in their hearts and their memories. I think it made me think of home and the love I felt when I left in July. May not sound like much, but the couple of minutes were peacefully beautiful and reminded me of how much I appreciate everyone back home and the generosity that has been shown and shared with me in the last few months. Thanks again. (Can you believe it is almost 3 months since my send-off? Wow.)
I have started teaching the students and other neighborhood kids how to do backbends and other gymnastics skills. I have actually perfected my backbend (T, you would be proud). It’s ironic that I didn’t do so in the 4 years I taught gymnastics from an actual gym with mats and such, but demonstrating the skills is an easy way to grab the kids’ attention and connect with them, especially when a lot of the village kids speak no English. They are always impressed to see that I can do it and want to learn. It’s great. The other days I started playing and dancing with these 4 girls between the ages of 3 and 10. I have to tell you- no joke the 3 year-old could shake her hips better than I can (which doesn’t say much ha ha but you get the idea). They start training them for hula early.
So before I end this very long blog (sorry for that), I want to say one thing. I am beginning to feel very settled. Marca, my volleyball coach, told me yesterday that she wants me to know that her and her relatives consider me part of their family now. While I still know barely any Chuukese and obviously nobody can replace those I love from home, my adjustment is coming along slowly but surely. Thanks for all the continued support. I do feel like in some way I don’t really understand yet, Chuuk is where I am supposed to be right now.
Hope to hear from you soon.
-Steph
Random thoughts:
Living in Chuuk has truly solidified my belief that poverty encourages resourcefulness and creativity. Every now and then I see things that really strike me as being extremely creative in lack of better resources. For instance, using a box that a six-pack of soda bottles or cans would come in to create a hat with a stiff bill or using torn up cardboard box pieces or banana leaves as fans for small relief from the stifling heat and lack of electric fans or AC. I’m disappointed I can’t think of more, but they will come to me later.
Friday, September 19, 2008
The Red Flower
Chuukese girl: “Bun iea”
Me: “Burn ire”
Chuukese girl: “Bun ieea”
Me: “Burnn ieea”
Chuukese girl: “Bunnn ieea”
Me: “Bunnn ieea.”
That’s pretty much what it sounded like when a bunch of local girls tried to teach me how to say “flower” in Chuukese earlier this week. I was seemingly hopeless to mimic their accents, but none the less I tried my best, and the conversation ended with all of the kids giggling and wanting to teach me more words. It was excellent. The whole thirty minutes I spent with these kids probably left me feeling the happiest I have felt since I have been here. Learning the word for “flower” was only a very small piece of the experience. Let me tell you more.
It was Monday afternoon, the first afternoon I went running after participating in the local volleyball game (see below for more on it). I had already run through the village of Penia once and was headed back to Xavier. The kids threw a volleyball at me as I ran past them and in their minimal, broken, yet very enthusiastic, English said, “Stephanie, practice, practice.” The ball, which was literally falling to shreds, was more like a kickball than a volleyball. As I “peppered” with the kids for about 10 minutes, a group of older teenagers played a game in the street. The net was held across the street and if a car came through, they just lifted part of it so that the car could clear the net (Try to imagine this happening on the one main street of where you live with a bunch of little kids running all around. It still gets me). At one point when I was chasing the ball, I fell on a huge metal pipe that happened to be right next to the road, of course making a couple kids laugh and then later leaving a huge bruise on my butt. It’s always okay if I laugh with them so having a sense of humor helps. If you know me at all, you know I am used to falling. I wouldn’t have survived this long had I not developed a sense of humor around it, so I laughed also.
Then I saw one of the little boys that typically pesters me when I am running. He’s probably 4 and his name is Dumber (pronounced Dam-bear). He’s a little shrimp, but he has the personality of a “big kid” on the streets. I decided it would be a good time to actually try to “meet” him. So I walked up to him and tried to give him a high five (which I learned nobody does here and had to end up teaching some of the kids). Now that I was actually giving him attention, he ran away from me. Even though last week he was bold enough to pinch the back of my thigh as I ran by, he was all of a sudden the shy one. I ended up sitting down Indian style talking with some of the girls, ranging from age 10-early 20s. They are all really nice to me and somewhat look out for me. While I was sitting, Dumber came up and threw a flower at me. The girls around me got angry with him and said something to him that I didn’t understand. I put the flower in my hair and thanked him anyway. Then one of his side kicks came up and gave me another, which I also put in my hair. Now, Dumber wasn’t as scared of me anymore and nicely handed another one to me. I put this one at the top of my head and he laughed. With time, the mood seemed to lighten. While I am still a spectacle, I think that the people are slowly coming to see that I want to become a part of their community, rather than an outsider. In general, I think that the overall reputation of volunteers and students at Xavier is the opposite. The physical location of Xavier (on the top of Mabuchi hill in the “jungle” of Weno and away from the “downtown”) and the fact that it is for the most part an English only environment separates or isolates it a lot from the local community. Essentially, a large effort has to be made to overcome the obstacles of geographical space and language. Continuing on with the story…
As the sun was starting to set, I decided it was time to head back. Running up Mabuchi hill in the pitch black would not be fun. It’s not as if there are street lights even if the island power is on nor are they paved the way we are used to. Plus, while the locals knowing me by name is a positive for my personal safety, it’s still smarter to take precaution when I am alone. So I started to head back. Here comes the best part of the encounter. I had been running for about 20 seconds when I heard little screams behind me. I looked back and Dumber and his sidekick, Ansoor, were running toward me. “Stephanie! Stephanie!” I stopped and as they ran towards me, they both held out their hands to shake mine. I shook their hands, smiled, and said good bye. Now while it might not mean much to you to earn the respect of four year olds, I believe the encounter as a whole was symbolic of much more. I ran home at ease, listening to random calls from other neighbors, “Good morning, Stephanie,” (Yes, good morning at sunset…It makes me smile also.) It is not easy to enter into a place where you are the stranger. Although you may be educated or “American,” you are not familiar with Chuukese life or the culture and language of Weno. If I have to say one thing, this experience has challenged me to be confident and outgoing thus far- to continue to demonstrate to the people here that I want to learn from them as much as I want to teach them. It was memorable and I don’t think I will ever forget that afternoon with the red “bun iea.”
Now I know that was a long story, but hopefully you enjoyed it. I want to tell you a couple more things. As for the volleyball game on Sunday (my first game with the locals and the day before my encounter with Dumber)- it went well. My team won. I was pretty nervous. I knew that I would be the spectacle. So of course once I stepped foot on the court, everyone cheered and clapped. Margaret, my coach and the wonderful woman who has been so helpful to me in translating and such, assured me that they were saying good things and cheering me on. I told some of the girls on my team that I was nervous – most of their responses were “Why?” Of course, these games don’t really mean anything and are just for entertainment and local competition. I had to explain to them how I was the one that was different, the one that everyone was watching. Then, I asked them if they would be nervous if they went to the US and played in front of all Americans. They quickly shook their heads yes and smiled, understanding now where I was coming from. All in all, it was good to sit among the locals- rather than within the group of “white people.” I still have to get used to some things, such as playing in a long skirt and not following the rotation I am used to. However, with all things said, I’m really excited for this opportunity.
Some other notes:
Since I last spoke to you, we have had 2 ambassadors visit Xavier. First, the US Ambassador to the FSM and just today, the Australian ambassador to Micronesia (includes Palau, FSM, and the Marshall Islands) visited. It is a huge deal to have the ambassadors come to Xavier. Not only does the director make it a huge deal, but the students interpret it as meeting a celebrity. Last week when the American ambassador visited, one of my advisees looked at me with a giggling giddy look and literally while fanning herself, said, “Oh my gosh, Ms. Stephanie, meeting the ambassador, that’s like a dream come true.” I smiled and let her be very happy. If only she knew how many ambassadors there are in the world and that they are pretty much just people like you and me. Anyways, walking out of the presentation today, one of my sophomores turns to me and goes, “I don’t want to be rude, but I think the American ambassador was better. She made us laugh, rather than just laughing at herself.” I just smiled and agreed.
As for classes, both of my Biology and Chemistry classes have taken their first quizzes. The averages were pretty average- some A’s, mostly B’s and C’s, and some D’s and F’s. However, I have since learned the biggest obstacle my students are facing right now is knowing how to take notes. While a lot of science is taught through experimentation and demonstration, it also includes lecture. And for the most part, the students here don’t know how to or just don’t take notes. If you write a word on the board, then immediately copy it into their notes, but distinguishing what is important is apparently extremely difficult. For the most part, they have had little experience with taking notes or creating outlines. Next task- to figure out how to improve this situation without babying them! So…to say the least I am respecting teachers a lot more now. They have to work hard! (Not that I ever doubted that, but it is a lot more than I ever realized). Right now, I have about 40 lab notebooks waiting to be graded, I feel as if I just finished the last batch of 30, and I have 30 more coming in tomorrow.
And I can’t leave you without mentioning on a smaller note….The nurse at Xavier and I think that I had heat exhaustion or the beginnings of such (extreme dehydration) yesterday. I know that’s not actually a smaller note, but a big one. I had been on the roof of the school for almost 4 periods of class for a chemistry lab. Well, another lesson learned – bring an umbrella next time! The roof is covered with a silver reflector that basically resembles what “crazy people who want skin cancer really bad” use at the beach to get an ultra-tan. So, my cure was a cold pack, LOTS & LOTS & LOTS of water, and sleep. I thought I had been drinking enough water…more next time. It wasn’t so fun that island power has been terrible lately which means no fan. We went a week without any and then only had half power (randomly selected, only half of outlets work). We have been told we will only have intermittent half power until November because of the budget, so we’ll see. I know that was a long blog…hope you made it through. Miss you. Love you. Talk soon.
Peace,
Steph
P.S. I woke up this morning with this thing on my face. The nurse thinks either I got bit by a roach (on my face!!! gross!!) or that it could be a boil…ugh! perks of Chuuk.
Me: “Burn ire”
Chuukese girl: “Bun ieea”
Me: “Burnn ieea”
Chuukese girl: “Bunnn ieea”
Me: “Bunnn ieea.”
That’s pretty much what it sounded like when a bunch of local girls tried to teach me how to say “flower” in Chuukese earlier this week. I was seemingly hopeless to mimic their accents, but none the less I tried my best, and the conversation ended with all of the kids giggling and wanting to teach me more words. It was excellent. The whole thirty minutes I spent with these kids probably left me feeling the happiest I have felt since I have been here. Learning the word for “flower” was only a very small piece of the experience. Let me tell you more.
It was Monday afternoon, the first afternoon I went running after participating in the local volleyball game (see below for more on it). I had already run through the village of Penia once and was headed back to Xavier. The kids threw a volleyball at me as I ran past them and in their minimal, broken, yet very enthusiastic, English said, “Stephanie, practice, practice.” The ball, which was literally falling to shreds, was more like a kickball than a volleyball. As I “peppered” with the kids for about 10 minutes, a group of older teenagers played a game in the street. The net was held across the street and if a car came through, they just lifted part of it so that the car could clear the net (Try to imagine this happening on the one main street of where you live with a bunch of little kids running all around. It still gets me). At one point when I was chasing the ball, I fell on a huge metal pipe that happened to be right next to the road, of course making a couple kids laugh and then later leaving a huge bruise on my butt. It’s always okay if I laugh with them so having a sense of humor helps. If you know me at all, you know I am used to falling. I wouldn’t have survived this long had I not developed a sense of humor around it, so I laughed also.
Then I saw one of the little boys that typically pesters me when I am running. He’s probably 4 and his name is Dumber (pronounced Dam-bear). He’s a little shrimp, but he has the personality of a “big kid” on the streets. I decided it would be a good time to actually try to “meet” him. So I walked up to him and tried to give him a high five (which I learned nobody does here and had to end up teaching some of the kids). Now that I was actually giving him attention, he ran away from me. Even though last week he was bold enough to pinch the back of my thigh as I ran by, he was all of a sudden the shy one. I ended up sitting down Indian style talking with some of the girls, ranging from age 10-early 20s. They are all really nice to me and somewhat look out for me. While I was sitting, Dumber came up and threw a flower at me. The girls around me got angry with him and said something to him that I didn’t understand. I put the flower in my hair and thanked him anyway. Then one of his side kicks came up and gave me another, which I also put in my hair. Now, Dumber wasn’t as scared of me anymore and nicely handed another one to me. I put this one at the top of my head and he laughed. With time, the mood seemed to lighten. While I am still a spectacle, I think that the people are slowly coming to see that I want to become a part of their community, rather than an outsider. In general, I think that the overall reputation of volunteers and students at Xavier is the opposite. The physical location of Xavier (on the top of Mabuchi hill in the “jungle” of Weno and away from the “downtown”) and the fact that it is for the most part an English only environment separates or isolates it a lot from the local community. Essentially, a large effort has to be made to overcome the obstacles of geographical space and language. Continuing on with the story…
As the sun was starting to set, I decided it was time to head back. Running up Mabuchi hill in the pitch black would not be fun. It’s not as if there are street lights even if the island power is on nor are they paved the way we are used to. Plus, while the locals knowing me by name is a positive for my personal safety, it’s still smarter to take precaution when I am alone. So I started to head back. Here comes the best part of the encounter. I had been running for about 20 seconds when I heard little screams behind me. I looked back and Dumber and his sidekick, Ansoor, were running toward me. “Stephanie! Stephanie!” I stopped and as they ran towards me, they both held out their hands to shake mine. I shook their hands, smiled, and said good bye. Now while it might not mean much to you to earn the respect of four year olds, I believe the encounter as a whole was symbolic of much more. I ran home at ease, listening to random calls from other neighbors, “Good morning, Stephanie,” (Yes, good morning at sunset…It makes me smile also.) It is not easy to enter into a place where you are the stranger. Although you may be educated or “American,” you are not familiar with Chuukese life or the culture and language of Weno. If I have to say one thing, this experience has challenged me to be confident and outgoing thus far- to continue to demonstrate to the people here that I want to learn from them as much as I want to teach them. It was memorable and I don’t think I will ever forget that afternoon with the red “bun iea.”
Now I know that was a long story, but hopefully you enjoyed it. I want to tell you a couple more things. As for the volleyball game on Sunday (my first game with the locals and the day before my encounter with Dumber)- it went well. My team won. I was pretty nervous. I knew that I would be the spectacle. So of course once I stepped foot on the court, everyone cheered and clapped. Margaret, my coach and the wonderful woman who has been so helpful to me in translating and such, assured me that they were saying good things and cheering me on. I told some of the girls on my team that I was nervous – most of their responses were “Why?” Of course, these games don’t really mean anything and are just for entertainment and local competition. I had to explain to them how I was the one that was different, the one that everyone was watching. Then, I asked them if they would be nervous if they went to the US and played in front of all Americans. They quickly shook their heads yes and smiled, understanding now where I was coming from. All in all, it was good to sit among the locals- rather than within the group of “white people.” I still have to get used to some things, such as playing in a long skirt and not following the rotation I am used to. However, with all things said, I’m really excited for this opportunity.
Some other notes:
Since I last spoke to you, we have had 2 ambassadors visit Xavier. First, the US Ambassador to the FSM and just today, the Australian ambassador to Micronesia (includes Palau, FSM, and the Marshall Islands) visited. It is a huge deal to have the ambassadors come to Xavier. Not only does the director make it a huge deal, but the students interpret it as meeting a celebrity. Last week when the American ambassador visited, one of my advisees looked at me with a giggling giddy look and literally while fanning herself, said, “Oh my gosh, Ms. Stephanie, meeting the ambassador, that’s like a dream come true.” I smiled and let her be very happy. If only she knew how many ambassadors there are in the world and that they are pretty much just people like you and me. Anyways, walking out of the presentation today, one of my sophomores turns to me and goes, “I don’t want to be rude, but I think the American ambassador was better. She made us laugh, rather than just laughing at herself.” I just smiled and agreed.
As for classes, both of my Biology and Chemistry classes have taken their first quizzes. The averages were pretty average- some A’s, mostly B’s and C’s, and some D’s and F’s. However, I have since learned the biggest obstacle my students are facing right now is knowing how to take notes. While a lot of science is taught through experimentation and demonstration, it also includes lecture. And for the most part, the students here don’t know how to or just don’t take notes. If you write a word on the board, then immediately copy it into their notes, but distinguishing what is important is apparently extremely difficult. For the most part, they have had little experience with taking notes or creating outlines. Next task- to figure out how to improve this situation without babying them! So…to say the least I am respecting teachers a lot more now. They have to work hard! (Not that I ever doubted that, but it is a lot more than I ever realized). Right now, I have about 40 lab notebooks waiting to be graded, I feel as if I just finished the last batch of 30, and I have 30 more coming in tomorrow.
And I can’t leave you without mentioning on a smaller note….The nurse at Xavier and I think that I had heat exhaustion or the beginnings of such (extreme dehydration) yesterday. I know that’s not actually a smaller note, but a big one. I had been on the roof of the school for almost 4 periods of class for a chemistry lab. Well, another lesson learned – bring an umbrella next time! The roof is covered with a silver reflector that basically resembles what “crazy people who want skin cancer really bad” use at the beach to get an ultra-tan. So, my cure was a cold pack, LOTS & LOTS & LOTS of water, and sleep. I thought I had been drinking enough water…more next time. It wasn’t so fun that island power has been terrible lately which means no fan. We went a week without any and then only had half power (randomly selected, only half of outlets work). We have been told we will only have intermittent half power until November because of the budget, so we’ll see. I know that was a long blog…hope you made it through. Miss you. Love you. Talk soon.
Peace,
Steph
P.S. I woke up this morning with this thing on my face. The nurse thinks either I got bit by a roach (on my face!!! gross!!) or that it could be a boil…ugh! perks of Chuuk.
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