Observations, Reflections, and Lessons Learned

As my internet access is less frequent now that I live in my village, I felt it was only right to post twice while I have the chance.

There is quite a bit of down time in my life as a Peace Corps Volunteer, and the following are just a few things that have crossed my mind over the past few weeks. Hope you enjoy.

Rain

I’ve always said I wanted to live somewhere where it rains all the time. Well I’m currently in one of the wettest places on Earth, and I am so happy about it. The rain is usually welcomed relief from the heat, and I sometimes embarrass my family by wanting to go stand in it instead of take shelter from it.

Anyway, the rain here is unlike any I’ve ever experienced before. Sure, there’s huge downpours, the kind you can see coming for hours, the dark cloud looming overhead (which also makes it cooler... rainy days are the best!). But there are also the daily showers that appear and disappear before you realize it. The funny thing about this type of rain, is it’s almost impossible to see. I know that sounds absurd, but I will frequently be inside a building, listening to the rain pour down outside, but all I can see is bright skies and sunshine. This is usually when I run outside to confirm it Is in fact raining, and bring shame upon myself by relishing in the invisible rain splashing on my face. Sometimes I dance.

Another thing I enjoy about the rain is what it does to people. Every ducks under whatever is close by: a tree, an awning, the doorway of a house or store. It doesn’t matter who you’re crammed in there with, nobody speaks. You just pile in, and make room for the inevitable few who were caught further from shelter, and who come sprinting down the road to join you, their clothing already soaked. Families separate, often times children are being temporarily cared for by a stranger, and sometimes you’re the stranger whose hand gets grasped by a small lonely child. But no matter what, once the rain stops, the silence is broken and people walk off in every direction, reuniting with their family members and resuming their lives.

But my favorite thing about the rain here is the few moments before the rain actually begins to fall. Everything goes quiet—all the birds, pigs, dogs, children—it’s like they can feel it. Then the wind shifts, and that’s how you know. You can literally hear it coming through the jungle even before the first drop is felt. If you’re lucky, you have just enough time to run out and pluck your clothes from the line, but most times you’re not, and you have only enough time to stop whatever you’re doing, look up, and take a deep breath of just-before-rain air before you must find quick shelter. And if you’re me, you take those few precious moments to smile and be thankful for the beautiful place you live in.

The Language Barrier

This is probably the most amusing thing about my daily life. At school, my coworkers use me as a buffer to ward off parents who are calling about unnecessary things. Whenever the phone rings, they make me answer the phone. One of two things happens: either it’s somebody from the DOE who thinks it will be fun to only speak to me in Pohnpeian, even though they can speak English fluently (I think they enjoy hearing me struggle, in fact I can usually hear them chuckle under their breath), or the caller is a parent who hears my voice and they immediately hang up the phone. My coworkers’ theory is, if it’s really important they’ll call again. They usually don’t.

My Pahpa and I communicate minimally. He only speaks Pohnpeian, so I usually run out of dialogue shortly after, “Ia rohmw? (How are you?)”. Our daily interactions usually involve him telling me he will go get me a coconut, him presenting me with a coconut, and me thanking him for the coconut. But he is the sweetest man on this island, so he often acts out what he’s trying to tell me (usually involving “eat more” or “go rest”). It’s all very endearing. One day I hope to be able to carry on a real conversation with him. I think that will be the moment I know I have a grasp of the language.

But an unfortunate result of a language barrier comes in when you’re sick. Naturally my family is always concerned, but especially when I cannot communicate to them what is wrong. My Pahpa and Nohno practice local medicine, so they especially are always interested in details about my ailments and what kind of medicine I will be taking to remedy the situation. They usually try to prepare special food for me that corresponds to my particular ailment, take today for example. I have a cold, so my Nohno prepared a special soup that, as best as I can tell from my limited Pohnpeian, is a local cure for a cold. It was essentially chicken noodle soup, and as I ate it I sort of laughed in spite of myself. I was somewhat skeptical of some local soup cure, but then I realized Americans do the same thing, and in fact, in this case, we have the exact same remedy.

A less adorable interaction involving explaining sickness occurred last weekend, when I had the joy of pantomiming “diarrhea” to my Nohno. But don’t worry, I now know the appropriate word.

American Influence

This country has a very unique relationship with America, made possible through what is called the Compact Agreement. If you are unfamiliar (as I think most Americans are), you should definitely look into it. I am very interested in your opinions on the matter, and am more than willing to give mine, but in a far less public forum (email me!). As a result of the Compact, imported American food, music, movies, clothing, and products pop up everywhere. The effect is a very strange mixture of tradition vs. innovation, which is just as interesting to observe as it is sad to fully understand. My fear is that American culture is stepping on the toes of the local culture, and will eventually will overrun it. There is already mounting tension between the governmental leadership (FSM follows the US government structure) and applicable laws and regulations and the local, traditional leaders and their accepted customs. It’s hard to explain unless you live here and see it every day, but I never expected the strange hybrid culture that exists here. I’m not sure if I like it.

Expert Jerry-Riggers

One of the many things I have noticed about the people here that I find inspiring is their ability to take just about anything and turn it into something useful and to truly make the best of whatever they have. I’ve already mentioned the plumping—the water is in this large receptacle of sorts just outside my window and it is pumped to various locations around the compound using an assortment of complicated pipe configurations. It may not look pretty but it definitely works. The same goes for electricity. The number of extension cords running everywhere is staggering, but every place that needs power, gets it. One of the first things I marveled at was the use of large coolers as tubs in which to wash dishes, clothes, and children. Brilliant.  Water is pumped to the coolers (which are in three different locations) via the pipe system, and once the water needs to be drained, the plug is simply opened and the water pours out the bottom. Genius.

But my favorite thing I’ve seen are these wonderful toy cars some of my cousins created this week. They used old plastic bottles for the bodies (mostly old motor oil jugs), whittled sticks for the axels, and carefully pieces from old or broken sandals for the wheels. They assembled them themselves one day and their ingenuity took my breath away. The toys are perfect. A car purchased from a store in America could not have made them happier. The moment I saw the boys playing with their cars might have been the same moment I knew I’d like it here.

Ignorance is Bless

This old adage can apply in countless situations here, but I have narrowed it down to two daily occurrences in which it really is just best if you don’t know. Trust me.

1.       Don’t look up.

Credit for this tip must be given to Mark Brown, a Volunteer in the FSM State of Chuuk. It is relevant any time you’re in a abuilding (but especially if you’re in the bathroom). It’s is always best to just not look up, because then you’ll see what creatures are lurking in the corners and on the walls and you’ll have to deal with them. Ignorance really is bliss.

And even though this has been my team’s mantra since about day three in FSM, lo and behold on day one in my new house, I was lying in bed about to go to sleep, when I did what I knew I shouldn’t—I looked up. And when I did, I saw the most enormous spider I think I have ever seen, about eight feet from my head. I tried to ignore it, but it was too late. I looked up and  now I knew it was there. I ended up having to rouse a few brothers from their sleep to shoo it out, which was both awkward (I had only been there a few hours) and embarrassing. Let me repeat: don’t look up. Just don’t.

2.       Don’t ask, just eat.

It’s like when I was a kid and my parents decided not to tell me  and my sister what calamari was until after we was sure we liked it. Sometimes food just takes better before you know what it is you’re actually eating.

Take an experience I had last weekend. I was at a local feast celebrating a baby’s 1^st birthday (which is huge here) with one of my sisters Yoren. I was served a giant plate of food and began eating. As I’m tearing off pieces of meat (Pohnpeians rarely use flatware) the thought occurred to me that since this is a large celebration, someone probably killed a dog or two in honor of the baby. I pause to ask Yoren if any of my meat is dog, but then I decide not to, because really no good could come of me knowing. And suddenly I am very thankful that we are eating outside in the dark, where I am unable to inspect my food closely.

Well, that’s all I have for now. I hope you are all happy and healthy, and as always, enjoying your air conditioning.

With love,

Christy