HOW long has it been?

Greetings Readers!

I am sorry to say that it has been nearly FOUR full months since I wrote anything other than brief weather updates here. If someone were tracking my happenings through only this record, I suppose he or she could reasonably assume that I had been annihilated along with the rest of Pohnpei by some tragic, freak combination of tsunami-drought.

Evidently, this is not the case. I am alive and well. We've just finished the school year, and my eighth graders (all of whom passed the state entrance test and will be continuing on to high school!) are looking forward to their graduation ceremony next week.

Since I last wrote, many things have happened to me:
- Along with other volunteers, I weekended at Black Coral, a picnic island (small island inside the Pohnpei reef). It's a protected zone from fishing, so it was really amazing snorkeling.
- The PCVs had a bake sale over Women's Day (March 8) as a fundraiser for Camp GLOW*. Our favorite concoction was the cocoa-coconut-banana cake. Mmmm!
- We came out of the drought and now are getting our usual wealth of rain (I know you were all worried).
- The Easter Season came and went, as did a relaxing Spring Break.
- I started a Dance Club at school for all grades -- because the response was so big we split into three groups and met after school, once a week for each group. They all learned a dance of 4 8-counts that incorporates 7 or the 8 Movement Elements (I couldn't figure out how to translate "positive & negative space" into Pohnpeian).
- An auditor from the FSM national government came to Lukop School as part of an audit of the Pohnpei DOE. Among other things, I learned that I shouldn't be teaching for the length that I am without having taken the National Standard Teaching Test. The principal is working on helping me take it the next time it's offered. Maybe Peace Corps should get on that, too?
- My eighth graders won the Madolenihmw Science Fair with a presentation on the states of matter.
- The female PCVs have been in full Camp GLOW planning mode--meeting every week with our students and every other week with each other to prepare for camp. (*Not sure if I've already mentioned it, but Camp GLOW [Girls Leading Our World] is a summer camp to empower eighth grade girls as they approach the challenges of high school. Our camp this year will be four days in early June and will focus will be on how a Pohnpeian girl can lead a healthy, happy, and successful life.)
- The neighborhood youth started gathering every evening at the house next door to play volleyball and chat; when I'm not too pooped from school, I go over to watch, visit, or play cards with the kids.
- I ran a 5K put on by the FSM Olympic Committee to celebrate Women in Sports.
- On Earth Day (April 22) the wives of the US Ambassador and the Commander of the Coast Guard came to our school to read a picture book about a sea turtle and to distribute playground and school supplies to the students.
- The Spring found my students taking standardized tests -- just like in the US, except that the date of the tests were last-minute rescheduled a few times.
- In fourth quarter we started a lending library in my eighth grade class, with contributions from me (thanks for the books, Auntie Judy!) and my students. It was a test run to see how borrowing books might work for the whole school. The jury is out until I get all the books back!
- I've celebrated the numerous Constitution Days that exist here (FSM Constitution Day, Pohnpei Constitution Day, AND Madolenihmw Constitution Day are all observed holidays).
- I visited the local Baptist church and had my own "3rd service": one of the families invited me home after church to sit and visit (they actually said "fellowship") over lunch.
- I had my second In-Service Training session, in which my principal, coteachers and I learned new techniques for working as a team that we plan to implement for both summer school and the coming school year.
- I've now seen Pohnpeian weddings -- both a religious ceremony and the more traditional "local marriage" in which the groom's family visits the bride's family, gains permission over sakau, and takes the bride home with them.
- Less traditionally, I've gotten to know the dynamic community of expats and locals who live around Kolonia Town and tend to have a lot of fun gathering together in the evenings. Of particular note was Pohnpei Prom in early May--we made a high school dance playlist and rummaged for formal gowns at the Super Saver. I found and wore a child's Cinderella costume, which was very well-received.
- This past week was the only week all year that Pohnpeians can gather trochus (sea snails) from the reef. In Pohnpeian this practice is called "seisumwomw," and it's popular because the meat is delicious and the shells are worth about $1.50/lb. This is ALL my community of fisherpeople were talking about this week. My family FINALLY fixed our boat, and I got permission from the principal to go out of the water (instead of going to school) on Monday. Trochus is best caught by diving, and there weren't enough masks to go around. So Nohno ended up teaching me how to catch land crabs (pworu) instead. I was surprisingly good at it!
- Our school made it through a few bouts with technical difficulties during finals season--sick computers, broken power line attachments, etc.--to have a lovely Celebration of Learning this past Thursday (a day to present the awards for perfect attendance, good behavior, and good grades ... and also to eat LOTS of sugary food and run/dance around for a few hours).
- My host sibs have finished third grade! Nohno made a cake, Belva got an award for grades, and Iverson enjoyed a good chalk war with his buddies after the ceremony. It was a good day for all.


Overall, I think I've found it hard to update this blog because the more time I spend here the more complex and layered (and hard to relate) my experience becomes. I feel good about the work I've done in class this year, and I'm very proud of my students and the progress they've made. I have become very comfortable with my host family, and I think we understand each other better and better every day. I've made lots of friends, both locals and foreigners, both at site and in Kolonia. I'm improving very much in my spoken Pohnpeian, although I'm hoping the Lukop PTA President will tutor me in the "high," more respectful Pohnpeian that is best to use with my elders (read: everyone but little kids, pretty much).

I have a lot of ideas for the summer, both for school and community, but I now know that I need to approach change gradually for it to be successful here. My host fam also has a lot of plans for the summer -- we're aiming to build a second story on our house BEFORE Nohno leaves in early July to visit our family in Florida for a couple of months(?). Change is happening all over the place, and I'll do my best to keep you up-to-date here. No promises. Just best effort.

But most of all, I really want to express to all of you how grateful I am for your investment in my life here. Huge thanks to all of you who have been keeping in touch--sending me packages, letters, or even facebook posts/messages. Even though I haven't responded to everything, I want to express what an encouragement your support is to me. It has helped me come through some rougher moments over here. I would especially like to thank all of our friends who put up with my loving mother sticking a camera in your face with a "Say hi to Mollie!" I know from experience how awkward it is to say something heartfelt to someone many miles away with nothing but an unfeeling piece of machinery to look into. (Related note: television and screen actors are WAY more talented than I previously thought!) Seeing your faces and hearing your voices really touched me and made me feel so much closer to home. Thank you for that!

So, full of love and good intentions, I think I'll bring this post to a close. Momma, please upload those most recent photos so our friends have some new visuals to go with all of these new words.

Be well & please keep on keeping in touch!
Mollie

(On Weather) And here's what the 7th graders are saying...

On Friday I had my 7th graders respond to a prompt about the weather. Many students said the drought would "break" or "destroy" the island. Some wrote about the possibility of stopping school when the water runs out. A few shared insight that the heat will be good for hatching chicks. Here are my favorites:

"El Nino is very dangerous. It can destroy our island. It can burn many trees in Pohnpei. Most cars in Pohnpei will explode."

"It can break our island. It is not good for all the people of the Earth."

"This El Nino is darkening my skin. It killed the grass."

And my personal favorite--this kids has a great sense of humor and is fairly into action movies, I'll wager.

"All people will die and no one will live. It will destroy all the islands on the earth. All the planets will break down. And the earth will explode. No one will be left over. And the Sun will win."

Maybe we should have a chat about how weather patterns work? Or maybe not.

Crazy weather we've been having!

Here's the big news: El Niño makes a drought, an earthquake in Chile makes a tsunami warning, and I'm doing fine. Don't worry!

Growing up in Southern California, I always thought of El Niño as an extremely wet and rainy event. Which this tropical storm IS for CA residents--my folks have been writing about lots of recent rainstorms. But what never hit me before is that this wet weather doesn't just appear in California. It comes from somewhere. And now I know where it comes from: Here! 

All of Micronesia is experiencing a severe drought right now. It began about a month ago, and it will likely continue through May or June. Our typically wet, frequently rainy island of lush, green plants is beginning to look a lot more like the dried-out brush of semiarid SoCal. People tend to burn their trash, so threats of wildfires will rise as more of the plants dry out. And because the water system relies on frequent rain, many homes and villages are without fresh water. My house and school still have functioning wells/tanks, but many of my neighbors who once had running water now have to collect their water for drinking, bathing, and cooking from more distant water sources. (Also, on another "don't worry" note, my family buys our drinking water in Kolonia; it will not run out.) Ideally communities will conserve, and those with plenty will help those without, but the longer the drought the more serious the problems that might arise.

This morning, the weird weather expectations got even stranger--my Program Assistant called me about a potential tsunami on its way from the enormous earthquake in Chile. Not only was I concerned for how things were going in Chile, but I was also worrying about our outer island volunteers who live only a few feet above sea level. The good news here is that the tsunami warning was just that--a warning, and no more. We got the all clear just as the wave was scheduled to hit, and it's been determined that there's now no threat to FSM.

So I hope everyone out there is doing alright, and that no more natural disasters cause panic--there have been far too many of late in my opinion. But this post is to let all those news-watching readers know that I'm okay. And thanks for your concern!

Love and sunblock (it's HOT here right now!),

Mollie

Human Resources

In Peace Corps Micronesia, we have many people in our lives. I’ve already written a few posts describing my Pohnpeian family, coworkers, and community, with whom I spend the majority of my time. But I haven’t said much about the spread-out network of other volunteers who share my island state with me. Well, there’s 15 of us all together—10 from my swear-in class and five who are “a year older” in their Peace Corps service. And this past week I’ve had the rare opportunity to see all of them—and to appreciate more fully the wonderful and unique ways we can impact each others’ lives and services.

This week brought all of Pohnpei PCV together on Wednesday afternoon to meet the new U.S. Ambassador to FSM (he seems to be a lovely and well-informed fellow, by the by). This meeting would have been the 12 main island volunteers, exclusively, but for the fact that the first In-Service Training for us Pohnpeian M76-ers also happened this week (Thursday, Friday, and Saturday), bringing in the three outer island PCVs as well. Meaning I’ve just spent the most time in Kolonia since my Sick Bay escapade during training—to a very different effect.

Unlike my solitary sojourn in medical quarantine, IST is a time to gather, share and reflect as a group with my PC contemporaries. We focused on all aspects of life—emphasizing host family and culture issues, but also spending time talking about our work in the classroom, and, well, about the forms PC expects us to fill out (we’re pretty big on the paperwork, being a government program and all). The first day brought representatives from each host family together to talk out difficulties and successes, and then the rest of the time was just for PCVs and staff.

The time together met my expectations, which were to exchange tangible things like teaching techniques and Pohnpeian vocabulary. But more than that, the formal and informal conversations with my peers have impacted my outlook on my service and myself in a completely unexpected and glorious way. For example, I didn’t just learn “quick fix” strategies for talking through problems with my Nohno or my principal. Instead, from hearing the philosophies of the others on their PC service, I was able to more closely examine my own. I gained a whole new perspective on how I’ve been approaching all my interactions—revealing to myself more clearly how the motives, expectations, and biases I’ve been carrying into these situations have been barring my integration and growth.

The (somewhat over-the-top) analogy that comes to mind is that, before IST, my approach was like trying to take a picture of the natural beauty around my home—I’ve been looking through a narrow lens, imposing a frame, and failing to capture the whole. But now my view is expanding. I’m being offered moments of being able to put the camera down and absorb in the whole, splendid panorama. I guess it’s fitting that it’s only the vantage points of my peers that can show this view to me—they’re the ones standing next to me and seeing it, too.

Pretentious metaphors aside, today I am feeling very satisfied with my IST. I love that the buzzwords of the week were patience, balance and support. I feel encouraged and refreshed. And I have a renewed admiration for my PC people, who can be there for me in a way that no one else really can.

And in addition to challenging each other and urging ourselves on to greatness, we also know how to have a darn good time when we get together—which is another kind of balance, if you think about it. This week’s (and weekend’s) experience was so “balanced” that I’m presently sleep deprived with a wicked headache, but it was definitely worth it: I’ll be coming back to my community happy and with a renewed sense of purpose. My place in this community helps me better belong to that one.

New Pictures are Up!

Thanks, Mom!

http://picasaweb.google.com/wrightbusy4/MMMM#

Pride and Prejudice and Pohnpei

Written Monday, January 25, 2010

Earlier this month, when I revisited one of my favorite books of all time-- Pride and Prejudice--, I was expecting a lovely, British, purely escapist reading experience. But instead, I rediscovered the truth that a great work of literature can resonate with your life anew whenever/wherever you return to it.

Before your fancies get the best of you, let me just say that, no, I have not met a Pohnpeain Mr. Darcy. Rather, what has struck me about the book this time is the unexpected parallel between my present life and the community-centric lives of its characters. Madolenihmw looks like Hertfordshire; Lukop looks like Longbourn. Even though I grew up in a perfectly fine American suburb, I’m for the first time feeling what it’s like to live in the society of one’s neighbors.

And this society is really wonderful! As Mrs. Bennet famously retorts against accusations of “confined” and “unvarying” conditions in the country—“I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families.”—I too praise the richness and variety of my company. Each acquaintance made with an outgoing small child testing out her English (“Hi, Mollie!”), or a mother or grandmother of one of my students, or even just getting to bond with my students outside of class is its own small success. [This is a joyful response to the estrangement I first felt upon arrival.]

Like the Bennet family, my household runs off to many engagements, both around the island and in our own neighborhood. But where they go to balls, assemblies, and card parties, we’ve had a season of very Pohnpeian funerals and birthdays (ni mehla and ni ipwidi, meaning “at the death” and “at the birth,” respectively). After the Christmas holidays—and the corresponding birthdays in my family, my own visiting of family and friends in neighboring communities, and even a “tour of the high country” to visit Ruthanne’s Salapwuk—January saw back-to-back funerals held in our neighborhood, which, as I said, can be up to 10 days of gathering.

Then this past weekend, the chief of the village next door hosted the 90^th birthday party of his family’s matriarch. I believe she’s a great-grandmother to my generation, but there were easily 5 generations of family and friends in attendance. The teenage Kolonia relatives, like the fashionable ladies from London, were obviously a bit less pleased with the country gathering than the rest (the term “too cool for school” fits, although it clashes with my current theme … “putting on airs” then, which Pohnpeians call “lioasoahs,” or pretentious).

And although the food and socializing took precedent—like at all Pohnpeian and Austenian functions—, I did notice a few mentionable points of Pohnpeian uniqueness. For starters, I ate my lunch seated next to the bat cage—think more pet gerbil than Bruce Wayne. Subsequently, I now think bats are cute and quite personable. But everyone else says they smell. And also, as the afternoon turned into evening and those who were partaking in sakau wanted a bit more quiet, the dance party that was going on inside the house (with me, the teens, and the children observed by the mommies and grandmas) turned into a CityStep meeting, complete with “make a rainstorm” and the Museum Game (Ok, CityStep!).

But, to return to my theme, the more I get to know my community (and the better I get at Pohnpeian), the more I can participate in these gatherings. I’ve noticed a marked enjoyment of gossiping amongst most circles here, and maybe one day I can have the fun of Elizabeth Bennet in her engaged, amused delight in all the wonderful quirks inherent in the personalities of all of my neighbors which such occasions bring to light. Of course, this would mean that my neighbors will be dear and familiar to me, not that I would be lambasting differentness/weakness in people I don’t care for (that’s more Mr. Bennet’s role, which he does play charmingly. Yet he does give partially good advice for Peace Corps humility: “For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn.”).

The role I play now is not so astute. I’m still something more akin to Mr. Collins. Because of my newness, I’m still a bumbling, awkward interloper, of sorts. People have to speak more slowly to me, to repeat themselves, and to explain things that any sensible person would understand. However —I flatter myself—I believe am much more well-liked than Mr. C. [For those of you who got the joke in that last sentence, I salute you; let’s have tea sometime.]

So all is well in this part of the world. Here’s to enjoying more good books and good company—for myself and for my dear readers!

Love,

Mollie

PS: After finishing P&P, I started Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which wonderful Misa sent me for Christmas [Thanks, Misa!]. And I will say that there are fewer cultural similarities between my life now and the rewrite. No undead here; the gates of hell are closed. Although, Nohno was explaining something about the belief that each Pohnpeian clan has an animal spirit/ghost spirit—like a team mascot, sort of. She can’t eat a certain kind of fish because of her clan. And people say that the rat who lives in our kitchen is actually a sign that her deceased father is always close by. Not sure how that rationale jives with the fact that she’s sworn to get rat poison in town tomorrow, but, ah, these are the mysteries of life.

Holiday Recap

Hi Folks!

While many of you had a White Christmas, I was enjoying the experience of my first Christmas and New Year’s in Pohnpei. How was it? Busy and wonderful.

First of all, school ended with finals on December 17th and 18th. Then we decorated the school on the 21st and had our “Christmas in school” celebration on the 22nd. I don’t know about you, but in the U.S. I was accustomed to maybe a small class party in the afternoon on the last day before Christmas break. But Pohnpei seems to buy into the Christmas spirit even more than the U.S.—people begin decorating at the end of November, and they literally have a week and a half to two weeks of Christmas parties. (Of our own Christmas decorations on our house, Nohno says they’re going to stay up forever!)

So this commitment to the Christmas season could not be contained to simply a half-day party. Instead, the whole school has a big day of revelry. Each class decided a month in advance how they were going to do their gift exchange and who would bring what kind of sweet treat to share. So on the day of, soda, ice cream, cookies, chips, and candy abounded. Also, the kids here don’t just buy a pencil case for the class gift exchange. People go all out, bringing in huge (and fairly pricey) Christmas packages for their classmates. After each class has an hour or so to itself, everyone comes out to celebrate on the front lawn in front of the school. A popular local band—keyboard and singers—came to perform, and we all danced for hours. I spent so much time on the sunny dance floor that when I came back inside one of my fellow teachers exclaimed: “You’re so red! You look like a crab that’s just been boiled!” Apart from my weak, overexposed skin, I really enjoyed being festive with all the students, teachers, and parents. Little kids point at me and start calling me “li en kalik” (dancing lady) on campus now. And even the local dogs got into the action—every time the dance floor cleared between songs, they nosed the grass for trampled donuts and other goodies on which to snack.

I took a breather from parties on the 23rd, but that’s mostly because I went to back-to-back-to-back birthday parties for the matriarchs and patriarchs of my families. On Christmas Eve, my pahpa’s pahpa turned 90-something. Then on Christmas my nohno’s nohno had a birthday party in Kitti, on the other side of the island. Then I went to visit my training host family in time to celebrate that nohno’s nohno’s birthday party in Temwan on the 26th. At each of these parties there was an uhm (big oven of hot rocks on which you cook pigs and dogs), baskets of food, gifts and sakau. I got to take in all the festive camaraderie, and I even got to share a bit of it with my family in the U.S.—we had a phone date in the middle of the Christmas Eve gathering; it was a fun challenge to try to relate everything I was seeing to them as they were gathered around the skyping computer in our friends’ kitchen.

Then, from the 27th through the 30th, I got to visit with some of the other PCVs around the island. I spent an afternoon being very nicely entertained by Nate and Kerry in their home near PATS, our training site. And then I trekked up the mountains to visit Ruthanne in Salapwuk, a lovely and remote community without electricity but with plenty of welcoming family—and a few other holiday gatherings to attend, except this time I got to hike over the meadows and through the jungle to get there.

I made it back to my site by the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, in time to start a 24-hour+ celebration of the turning of the years. I missed another holiday party in our community while I was away, which was quickly made up for by drinking sakau and wandering the street (singular) awaiting midnight. When midnight did strike, those who went to church came out in a candy-seeking hoard (Pohnpeian New Year’s is like American Halloween), and we all met on the street to exchange greetings and handshakes. Then the mingling and candy-eating continued pretty much all night. A few houses had music set up so that revelers could dance, but I found that most just wanted to visit with each other and laugh in the new year. I pooped out some time around 3am, but then was roused again in the morning to come to a barbecue at a neighbor’s house. It was a less formal affair than the other holiday parties—only a few families, and an oil-drum grille to cook marinated chicken, rather than an uhm to roast bigger meat. But it was still a source of delicious food and of useful Christmas gifts—mostly Tupperware and machetes. Then later in the day I had the good fortune to ring in the New Year again—celebrating in California time with my parents over the phone.

And although school started (too) soon after that, my community had an unexpected opportunity to gather again only a week later—my uncle (my father’s brother, who lives the village next to ours and who is the grandfather to a few of my students) unexpectedly passed away. I had been to his house only once before, to celebrate his 59th birthday in mid-December. (In fact, it was there that I ate dog for the first time.) He apparently had been having medical problems for a while, but I had no idea he was sick. The sedentary lifestyle and the influx of imported food have made diabetes, heart problems, and cancer very serious problems for people much younger than him, even. Although it was incredibly sad to see his immediate family mourning on the day of the burial, a Pohnpeian funeral does not end with the mourning. After the burial, a funeral will continue for several more days of feasting and sakau, full of laughter and visiting to honor the dead, much like an Irish wake. I was lucky enough to have many good conversations with community members during this time—often with parents of my students. So, while my holidays took me celebrating all around the island, the funeral gave me a unique opportunity to draw closer to my immediate community, for which I am very grateful.

While you, dear reader, are preparing to celebrate MLK and the births of presidents over the next month, I’m looking at a January and February that is holiday-free and as “business as usual” as we can get. But after the huge quantity of celebrating and feasting that happened over the past month, I’m really okay with refocusing on school and taking it easy for now.

With love from Pohnpei,
Mollie