Picture Post!

This is the view I chose on Friday, after our last training session as a complete team. The trainees for Chuuk and Palau left Saturday, and rather than draw it out and make last night together into a giant sob-fest (on my end, of course), I opted to walk myself to my newly found favorite reading spot. The ridge you see across the water (it’s the same island, it just bends around) is Sokehs, the one we climbed several weeks ago. Even though this picture is beautiful, it doesn’t really even do it justice.

This picture, however, is pretty accurate. No editing or color-enhancing was done to this photo—this is my real life. Last weekend we were celebrating our last weekend together as well as several birthdays, so a few of us splurged for dinner at the nicest restaurant on the island. The prices mirror those of say, a Cheesecake Factory (mmm cheesecake…), but on our stipend that requires several days of meager lunches to save up. It was so worth it, though. And needless to say, the view was spectacular. That kind of goes without saying, though, no matter where I am on the island, I never once think, “Man, I wish it was prettier here.” Every view is breathtaking, every sunset is glorious, and every jungle rain is indescribably wonderful. It just is.

This is the world’s most adorable kitten. Defying all odds, my family has yet again gone against cultural norms and taken another pet (one they keep inside, nonetheless). My Nohno has a friend whose cat just had a litter, so she came home wih this little guy. I got to name him, and I chose Kisen (not sure of spelling), which means “little” in Pohnpeian. He is utterly perfect. Again, this pet loves me the most, so he routinely curls up in my lap while I read, making my heart melt. He loves exploring my room, but he isn’t allowed to sleep with me, because I have a woven matt on my floor, which serves as a rug, and Kisen just cannot resist trying out his claws on it at all hours of the night. My Nohno offered to let me take him with me when I move next month, but I declined. In this environment, it is all too for a pet to get killed and eaten (by other animals or by people) and I just wouldn’t be able to handle it if something happened to him on my watch. Plus, my new family might not be up for it. I will just have to visit him whenever I come back into town. For now, I just enjoy carting this tiny ball of fluff around the house on my shoulder and watching him prance around the room chasing bugs and lizards (he’s not yet caught one).

This is my darling family. Note my Nohno and I have now two sets of matching mumus. She calls them our “uniform” (I don’t think she knows the word “matching”), and proudly has us dress in them for church or special occasions. The bottom picture was taken at a Thank You dinner for the families before the other trainees left.  For the first (and probably the last) time I am the tallest member of my family, and it’s very strange. I’m the one the ask to reach things that are high up (which isn’t much), and they are baffled by the idea that I could be considered short in America. I tried to prove it to them at the Thank You dinner, by having other Peace Corps stand next to me, but they still just think those Peace Corps (we are nouns, by the way, not “Peace Corps Trainees” but just “Peace Corps”) are just exceptionally tall, while I am just normal amounts of tall. 

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That’s it for now, thanks for reading. Also, a big thank you to everyone who sends me letters—I really appreciate it.  I especially want to give a shout out to my most recent batch. On Thursday I got six letters at once (I wish I could explain that one, I’m going to blame the limited flight schedule). One from my darling sister, two from my wonderful godmother, one from Jessica (an SG advisor that I adored at USF), one very unexpected letter from Mamma Bacon (the mother of an old and dear  friend, complete with a hand-crafted card) and of course, one from the always reliable Rachel. It’s just so wonderful to receive mail. It doesn’t even matter if all you tell me is what you ate for lunch that day; it’s just nice to hear from people. 

So, thanks for continuing to put smiles on my face! I reactivated my Facebook this week too, so look me up! I’ll be attempting to tag myself in photos from other Trainees in the coming weeks, so look out for it!

With love,

Christy

Teaching in Pohnpei

To help in our Pre-Service Training, the local Peace Corps Staff orchestrated a “Model School” in which local children from all over came to “school” for two weeks so we could get a feel for working with Micronesian students and have a chance to put into practice all the theory we’ve been digesting for the past month.

I’m so glad they did it, because I desperately needed instruction time. Sitting for endless hours in training session lectures led me to almost forget why I had come. But being in the classroom again reignited the passion and love for teaching that caused me to make this crazy decision in the first place. It was a much needed change, and a rekindling of excitement that was lost so easily during our training classes.

Here are some things that are much different about teaching in Pohnpei:

  

     1.    Students get to school way too early. In the States, I would arrive to school 45 mins-1 hr before the start of the school day, which would typically yield upwards of 30 minutes of quiet before the students arrived. Here, I arrived to school roughly an hour and a half prior to the start of classes, only to receive 15-20 minutes of peace before students were sitting in my classroom, talking and playing and making it impossible for me to get any semblance of work done.

I’m told it’s because children are so bored at home, they take any chance to get out and go somewhere. In my permanent site I may need to instate a rule for when students are permitted into my classroom. Closing or locking the door doesn’t help here, because all of the classrooms are fitted with walls of windows on either side, to allow cross-breeze (thank you, God). And by windows I mean wire grates which create open squares large enough for children’s’ fingers. So even with the door shut, students simply stare at you from outside, through the permanently open window and ask you, “Teacher Christy, why is the door locked?” with their fingers wrapped around the grates, until you ultimately go let them in.

  

     2.    Supplies are very limited. I never want to hear another American teacher complain that they don’t have what they need in the classroom. Have you ever taught 2 week of class using only a chalk board and chalk? I have.

And the point is not to send over supplies, because the intent of my time here is to create a new, sustainable way of doing things in Education. Having enough supplies shipped in to make the classrooms seem “American-grade” is neither reasonable nor sustainable.

I did manage to get my hands on recycled paper from the Peace Corps office (paper that had been printed on one side). So three times during Model School (and only three times) I copied by hand 12 sets of a worksheet for my students to complete. Let’s just say I’m hoping to find a copy machine at my next post.

  

     3.   The people here are generally shy. So whereas in America, you might pose a question to the class and have to preface it by demanding students not shout out their answers, here I have grown accustomed to 5 minute stare-downs where absolutely no one responds. It’s awesome. Eventually the class warmed up and we were able to get responses from them (or at the very least, acknowledgements that I had in fact spoken to them), but nothing beats standing helpless in front of a silent group of children.

But aside from that, the classrooms are largely the same. I had to privilege of borrowing an exceptional 1^st grade classroom, which bore a striking resemblance to a classroom of the same grade in America. The teacher had painstakingly hand-copied poems, nursery rhymes, the alphabet, numbers, key words, and the like onto large reams of paper (some of which were laminated—where on Earth did she find a laminating machine?) which were festively posted around the room. There was a thin mat on the cement floor in one corner, resembling a meeting rug one might find in the US, used for read-alouds and the like. And right as you entered to classroom, my favorite part, was a line of nails, pounded into the wall, which above it had each student’s name written carefully on a piece of masking tape. The classroom in which I resided for my two-week stay in Model School was evidence that, even with limited resources, one can create a beautiful, inviting, and effective classroom.

On our last day of classes, I had a really nice moment when I was taking out our classroom’s trash. [This involves carrying whatever receptacle is being used for garbage outside to one of several cylindrical tin trash cans. I’m told there is some sort of trash service here in Pohnpei, but I have yet to see it in action, as similar trashcans line every street, full to the brim. The people deal with this by simply burning the trash in the cans when they get too full, a smell that easily passes into my glass-less windows and of which I have grown quite accustomed.] As I traversed the crowded schoolyard, dodging playing children and carefully stepping around large rocks or animal droppings, carrying out an everyday task of taking out the trash, I suddenly had this sensation of being at home. Like this is me, on a tiny island in the middle of nowhere, just going about my business. It was oddly comforting, and actually quite pleasant. So even once I got to the trash cans, swarming with flies and stray animals, I couldn’t help but smile. 

This may not be the life I am used to, but it is definitely my life. And I’m glad it is. 

--Christy

Site Placement

I’m staying on Pohnpei! I’m teaching 1^st -8^th grade, with an emphasis on 6^th -8^th grade at a small Elementary School (Elementary is K-8 here). Unfortunately, due to safety reasons, I’m not allowed to post any further details about my permanent location on my blog. However, if you email me, I’ll gladly give you more information. Mom and Dad—I’ll call you on my Sunday at our normal time.

I’m super excited about my placement for numerous reasons:

1. I won’t have to get on a plane again! I’m still not over how excruciatingly long the flight here was, and I am definitely not interested in even looking at a plane again anytime soon. 

2. Inherently Pohnpei has the most volunteers, as it is the capital state of FSM. I am located within a 1 hour’s drive of 6 other volunteers and the closest two are only 15-20 minutes away. 

3. The Pohnpei volunteers tend to help with training. So in a year when the next batch comes, I’ll get to be part of the welcoming committee, help show the new trainees around, and perhaps teach a few sessions, which sound sweet to me!

4. The trainee that I’ve become closest to, Diana, is located 20 minutes away from me. Hurray!

5. I have easy access to internet! 

6. I’m close by to the Peace Corps office, in case I need anything, medically or otherwise. 

7. I can visit my current host family somewhat frequently.

8. Staying in the capital makes is exponentially easier for people to visit me!!! (hint- start saving up now)

Basically I’m super pleased. Language training starts Monday, and I can’t wait. It should be fun. 

I move to my new site mid-August. Prior to that I will be sworn in as a full Volunteer, which will result in two very important communication upgrades:

1. I will be given access to the Volunteer lounge, which has free internet access. So no more paying $1/min to use the public internet (aka rarely using the internet)
2. I will be given a cell phone, which means I will have a phone number I can be reached at. So no more $0.70/min to call home on the pay phones! Hooray!

As a result, I’m considering reinstating my Facebook once I move. I’ll keep you updated.

Yay, M78 Team Pohnpei!

In other news, I finally got sick! I’m a real Peace Corps Volunteer now. I had a wonderful stomach thing paired with a fever (and let me just tell you, a fever in a tropical climate is literally hell on Earth) from last Saturday night until Wednesday, which is why I wrote the previous two entries so long ago but never posted them. I had absolutely no desire or energy to walk to internet. I’m all better now, so no need to be alarmed. My Nohno worried enough for all of you back home. BUT, get alarmed, because as a result of my being so miserable, I FIGURED OUT HOW TO SWALLOW PILLS!!!! Only my family and close friends will appreciate what a big deal this is. But it came down to me desperately wanting my fever to break and having no other option, so I did it. I still struggle a bit (occasionally I can get the pill down on my first try), and I’ve only swallowed small 200mg pills, but still. This is a huge deal. Yay! I’m a grownup!

With love,

Christy

Sokehs Rock

This Saturday about 16 of us decided to go on a hike. Three of the current volunteers offered to lead us up Sokehs Rock, and good Lord, what a day. As it turns out, the volunteers underrepresented the difficulty of the hike. “A little steep” and “not too bad” turned into the most physically taxing day of my life. No joke. I don’t think I have EVER sweated as much as I did on that hike. And about halfway up, in true Pohnpei fashion, it began to pour for a good 20-30 minutes. The rain was a Godsend, as we were all so hot, but we probably could have lived without the mud (and there was a LOT of it). We kept up morale by singing every song we could think of involving rain (“If all the raindrops were lemon drops and gum drops, oh what a rain it would be...”). 

One very interesting thing about Pohnpei, and FSM in general, is there is old, rusty military equipment just laying around (mostly Japanese), like ships still in the water or run aground, tanks left abandoned, and giant tank-like guns. Two such guns were up on Sokehs, and it was really incredible to see. We climbed all over them and got a few group shots. I’ll try to get a hold of one to post for you guys. It’s so interesting, because in America these sorts of things would be roped off and preserved as history, but here, Micronesians don’t really think much of them. They’re just ever-present reminders of the country’s past.

Against all odds we finally made it to the top, and the hardships were all worth it, because the view was spectacular. The rain finally let up once we got to the top, so we were able to really appreciate it all. We ate our lunches at the top, then slipped, tripped, slid, and fell all the way down the muddy “trails”.  It was excellent. 

Then the idea came up to just walk down the road a bit (30-45 minutes, said one volunteer) to a great swimming spot. We were all dirty and sweaty, so we agreed. As it turns out, the volunteer had only ever driven out to the spot, so she was just estimating the walk time. 1 hour and 45 minutes later, we finally arrive at a coal mining facility, which we walk through and discover is adjacent to a perfect, private swimming spot, complete with a giant rusty war ship still tied to the dock. Gorgeous scenery, as was expected. I mean, come on. It’s Micronesia. Again, the walk was worth it, but we figure we probably walked 8 miles so far (from home to trail, entire trail, from trail to water), so we opted for taxi’s home. Definitely worth the $2 fare. I don’t think I have ever been this physically sore in my life. I passed out at 7:30 that night and slept almost 14 hours. It was wonderful.

But you should all Google Sokehs Rock. It’s quite spectacular. I find out my permanent placement this coming Friday, and if it’s not Pohnpei, at least I’ll know I took in the sights before I left.

Hope you are all well. Enjoy the air-conditioning for me.

--Christy

Lucky

This is Kman, my 13 year old host brother, and Lucky, our dog. 

Let me start my explaining some things about Pohnpei. First, they have a serious problem with stray dogs. They are literally everywhere. Nobody takes care of them, and anything resembling an animal shelter is unheard of. As a result, almost every dog you see is diseased, injured, starving, etc. Basically an ASPCA commercial waiting to happen. It sounds sad and depressing, but it’s remarkable how quickly you become desensitized to it all. Luckily there is no rabies on Pohnpei, but most of the dogs I encounter on a daily basis are disgusting and terrifying, and I want absolutely nothing to do with them. 

The dog problem is so severe that we were taught how to get dogs to go away almost instantly after we landed. Techniques include shooing them off (in Pohnpeian they say, “Shy!”, or sometimes something that sounds like “Shhht”, like you started to let out a curse word then tried to stop yourself). We’ve also been encouraged to stomp our feet at the dog, lunge at it, pretend like you’re going to throw something, actually throw something, or the ever-popular kicking the dog away. This may sound harsh, but it’s a daily necessity. Fortunately for me, local men frequently assist me in keeping the stray dogs away, which keeps me from having to Shy them too often. 

So to recap, Pohnpeians generally hate dogs. Some people even eat them. I’m not kidding.

However, some families choose to adopt dogs as pets. And by adopt I mean just decide not to kick a particular dog, nothing formal involved. My family has adopted Lucky. You can usually spot an adopted dog pretty easily because they are generally fully-bellied, clean (relatively speaking), and not terrifyingly diseased (I can’t stress to you enough how gross these dogs are. There are some things you can just never un-see.).Even amongst families with dogs as pets, dogs are never allowed in the house. So Lucky just happily lounges outside and waits for her table scraps (which, now that I’m around, are quite a bit).  

Maybe it’s because I pet her the most out of my family, or because I don’t ever hit her with the broom (cough Nohno cough), but Lucky has decided that we are best friends. Any time I leave the house, Lucky walks with me. (Everyone calls her my bodyguard, but they obviously don’t know her very well. Lucky is a giant wimp, and everywhere we go I am constantly on the offense, protecting her from bigger dogs that attempt to mess with her.) We walk to the grocery store, we walk to do my laundry, we walk to Telecom where I can use the payphone, and of course, we walk to my Training every morning. Wherever I go, Lucky just waits patiently outside the door until I come back out, then we walk home (Well, with the exception of this morning, when I tried to make a phone call and Lucky caused such a huge scene outside crying, barking, and scratching at the door that I had to leave before the phone booth was available.). 

Up until this week, Lucky has been just walking me to my Training and then returning home, but a few days ago she got gutsy I guess and decided to come all the way into the school (we’re using a local Elementary School for a Training facility) where she discovered there are lots of people who will pet her. So, now it has become a routine. We walk to school and wait outside the classroom for all the other Trainees to show. Then each one greets her by name and pets her before entering the room. This was all cute and good until today. Usually, Lucky stands around outside the classroom door (which remains open for desperate ventilation needs) for a while after we start, and then eventually gives up and goes home. But today she gained some more courage and decided to just come on in. So the Presenter is speaking, and in trots my little dog, right over to me. I bashfully lead her back outside and tell her to stay (like she speaks English…), but she immediately follows me back into the room. Over and over until I eventually allow her to sit on the floor at my feet. But then it became a game of nibbling on my feet, my skirt, leg, chair anything she could get her little mouth on, so I ultimately had to drag her out of the room and shut the door. I suppose she eventually lost interest, because I didn’t see her again until I got home today.  I fear this will become a habit.

So it would seem that I have made a new friend here in Pohnpei. Kman and Nohno love to hear my stories of what Lucky and I do each day, and they were rolling around laughing when I told them she came into my classroom today. When Nohno regained her composure she said, “Lucky always follow you because Lucky really love you.”

 I definitely do not mind.