Success

Anyone who tells you that Peace Corps is easy is lying.

 I’ll put aside the daily difficulty in language acquisition, adjusting to new food and less (no) amenities, routine confusion about gender roles, and my accidental cultural taboos. Those trials are frustrating, but sort of fun along the way; reminding me I’m on an adventure. I’m talking about the job. Every Peace Corps Volunteer is sent somewhere with a specific job at hand, and mine happens to be teaching English as a Second Language (TESL). One of the taglines for Peace Corps recruitment ads is “The toughest job you’ll ever love.” Amen to that.

Even with all my training, education, and enthusiasm, nothing has prepared me for the challenges I face daily in the classroom. Everything about my life is a roller coaster ride, with its extreme ups and downs, and school is no different. Some days I leave one of my classes feeling like the world’s most incredible teacher (self-flattery goes a long way in improving my self-confidence) but most days I leave my classes feeling defeated. The task at hand is immense, and promises to be more demanding than anything I have ever attempted.

Beyond the basic objective of teaching English, the Peace Corps focuses on a larger goal: sustainability. It’s the whole “Give and man a fish” vs. “Teach a man to fish” philosophy. It does me no good to teach English for two years, only to leave and have it all leave with me. I have to train the teachers to maintain any improvements I can make. That’s part of why my service lasts for two years—I need time to not only affect change, but nurture it until it grows into permanence. That, my friends, is what seems impossible at this current juncture.

Honestly, if I think about it too much it makes me depressed. I have always been extremely passionate about teaching and my students (which is the only reason I am able to continue teaching despite how insanely frustrating it is), a trait that is now proving to be my tragic flaw. The thought of not being able to help each and every one of my 220 some students is heartbreaking.

After a particularly grueling week (which ended with me sitting in the grass at the edge of the jungle near my school crying on the phone with one of my teammates), I came to a realization: when it comes to measuring my own success, it is crucial not to dwell on the big picture, but to focus instead on the smaller, more immediate glimpses of victory.  I have since made a point to keep track of those small triumphs to help encourage myself when the days get difficult, and I have decided to share some of those with all of you.

Small successes:

1.       One of my neighbors (presumably also a relative) is this large, loud, delightful woman who always greets me happily as I walk to and from school each day. A few weeks ago as I walked by on the way to school, she shouted out, “Soutik mwhau (Good evening)!” I just stopped and looked at my watch, and asked her, “Soutik mwahu?” She immediately started laughing (she has an excellent, booming, infectious laugh) and corrected herself, “Menseng mwahu (Good morning)!” I chuckled and returned a “Menseng!” and continued on my walk. Every day since, on my way to and from school, she calls out to me from somewhere in or around her house with an inappropriate greeting, and I answer back with a different, yet equally inappropriate greeting. I can always look forward to our exchange, and she puts a smile on my face daily. One day I was walking with one of my little cousins, and he tried to gently correct my mistake, which made both of us explode with laughter. Success.

2.       The students at my school love to play baseball and basketball during recess and lunch and after school sometimes the younger male teachers play with them. I’ve been eager to join in, but reluctant because I have yet to see a single girl or any of the female teachers playing. There are very defined gender roles here, and the best advice I’ve been given is just to follow suit with the women around you, so I’ve been just sitting and watching. But one Friday after school, when two of my male co-teachers came bounding into the office to grab the basketball, they stopped and asked if I would like to play. Of course, I agreed, and proceeded to play an intense game of 3 on 6, teachers vs. students. It was so fun and I was so glad to be included. My students talked about it for days.  Success.

3.       My community is very small. I am the men Wei (American) and everybody knows it. But occasionally I get into conversations with people who don’t know me very well, and I do my best to answer all of their questions. Sometimes, however, my Pohnpeian fails me and I am not sure what they are asking me. But without exception, every time I hesitate or appear confused, someone else present, sometimes someone I don’t even recognize, will jump in and answer the question for me, providing my personal information. Random people, whom I have no recollection of ever speaking to, know how old I am, my birthday, where I am from, what degree I hold, where my parents live, that I have a sister named Kay, and that she is 24 and works at Disney (you’re sort of a celebrity in my village, sis, everyone thinks your life sounds magical—pun intended). My life has become common knowledge, and my personal information apparently passes between people without requiring my presence at all (we call that the “coconut wireless”, the fact that everyone knows everything all the time, despite limited communication portals). Success.

4.       The other night, two of my cousins, my four year old niece, and I were all riding back home from town, and decided to stop and watch a dance crew practicing (dance crews are very popular here, surprisingly enough). The boys were all up on a platform dancing, several of their peers were gathered around in the grass watching, and all the women and children were across the street, standing around talking. My 17 year old cousin Herny went off to sit with some of his friends, and my cousin Marla, my niece Ann, and I went to talk with the ladies. About ten minutes later, Ann walks over to me and tugs at my skirt (like all adorable children who want your attention) and motioned for me to bend down. She looked at me shyly and whispered in my ear, “I men kilang (I want to watch).” I immediately took her by the hand and said, “Kita (Let’s go)!” She giggled and skipped across the road with me and happily sat in my lap in the grass for the remainder of the practice. Ann could have asked Marla to take her over, and Marla would have been just as enthusiastic, but instead she asked me. Success.

5.       The other day I was walking across campus at lunchtime, and a few of my eighth grade girls were sitting together laughing. I smiled and waved at them, not sure if the joke was on me (it frequently is), which made them laugh even harder. I walked over and asked them what was so funny, and one girl said, “Christy, you’re just so…white.” Another added, “You’re as white as blank paper.” I stood there shocked for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. I decided on, “Well, I am a men Wei”, which made them erupt in laughter again. I walked off slightly offended, but mostly just proud. Not only had both girls spoken to me in perfect English, a huge feat in and of itself, but the second girl used a simile, which I just taught them the previous week. Success.

6.       At my school there is an hour break for lunch, and my family and I always walk home to eat then return to school. The first few weeks were somewhat awkward; as I wasn’t sure if I should wait for everyone, gather up the young ones, etc., but soon my family resolved my confusion for me. I have three cousins in 2^nd grade, and one day they just decided they would pick me up from my class before we leave for lunch. I have 8^th grade right before lunch, and usually we run past the bell, with students lingering to talk to me or my co-teacher and I reflecting on the day’s lesson. Well, now my three cousins (Isabel, Jesse, and Disha) are always waiting, their little faces barely visible over the windowsill. I’ve started calling them my bodyguards, but one day my co-teacher, who is as equally as amused by their daily presence at our window, called them my “posse”, which I think suits them. Success.

7.       My family is very large, as I’ve said, and they tend to be arbitrarily spread between several houses at any given time. One of my teenage cousins, Darny, typically hangs around my house, and I’ve grown to really enjoy his company, despite the fact that he won’t really speak to me. Well, he recently spent about a week at some other unknown location, and I really missed having him around. When he returned to the house, I was so excited that without thinking I yelled out, “Darny! Where have you been? I missed you!” I was so sure he would be embarrassed (or worse, creeped out), and I braced myself for his reaction. He smiled widely and in perfect English responded, “Thanks, I missed you too”. Success.

8.       My youngest nephew, Ray Martin, is just over a year old, and quite possibly the cutest baby you have ever seen. He has several party tricks (as my teammate Liz would say), one of which is to wave goodbye to people. He usually reserves this pleasantry for those people he loves the most, but one day, as I was walking away from the house, headed back to school, I heard my Nohno laughing, so I turned back to see Ray watching me leave, waving. I waved back and my heart melted. Several days later I had the privilege of witnessing his first time standing up on his own. I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited about anything in my life. For the next 30 minutes Ray and I proceeded to play a simple game of him standing up, and me clapping, picking him up, kissing him on the forehead while he giggles wildly, putting him back down, and him standing up again. It was maybe the best 30 minutes ever. Success.

So there you have it. These are such a few glimpses into my daily interactions with people I would never have had the pleasure of meeting if I had not gotten on that plane almost four months ago. It may not be much, but it’s little successes like this that help me get out of bed in the morning and remind me why I chose to do this in the first place . These small successes may not be enough to change the world, but they’re more than enough to change the way I look at the world.

As always, I send my love to all those back home who support me, even across the globe.

--Christy