Never Say Never

The other day it rained. And I don’t just mean rain; I’m talking about the torrential downpour that helps Pohnpei be one of the wettest places on Earth. It rained and it was freezing. I know that sounds ridiculous. Freezing.  And  I admit, the first time it really rained like this, and my family complained about how cold they were, I thought they were lunatics. However, as I spend more time here, acclimating to the climate, I have come to agree. And really, it makes sense if you think about it. The reason that it is unbearably hot most days is the exact same reason that it is insanely cold when it rains: no climate control.  Nothing is sealed off, there is no air conditioning, the temperature outside is the temperature inside. The same glassless windows that keep me from suffocating in the stifling heat make me shiver in the rainstorms.

But the majority of time is spent outside anyway, including during a downpour. Inside is only for sleeping, and for weird white people who go inside to hang out during the day (me). So we all sit jammed under the only structure, a thatch roofed hut called an ihmwiahs, trying not to die of cold. We can’t really speak to each other, because the wind and the rain is so loud, and we’re not exactly dry either, since there are no walls on the ihmwiahs and wind throws rain in every direction. Occasionally, one of the many falling fruits ripped from its tree by the violent wind strikes the roof of the ihmwiahs and lets a small stream of water through the thatch. Then my Pahpa hurries to try and repair the leak. We try to cook and eat like normal, but the wind and rain puts out any fire. So we end up with fruit, maybe some bread, and if we’re lucky and the power is still on (the two are typically mutually exclusive), some hot rice from the cooker. All of this, for hours. Sometimes all day.

Eventually, I typically give up and retreat inside where I can seek more protective shelter (and nibble on my hidden care package snacks). As was the case on that day, and as I was huddled in my bed shivering, curled up for warmth, wearing leggings and my purple USF hoodie (thanks James), I thought to myself, I never thought I’d be this cold on a tropical island. Well, never say never.

And I got to thinking about all the things that are normal to me now that I never thought I would experience. I thought I might share some of those things with all of you:

I never thought I’d be able to go all day without noticing that the power was out.

I never thought I’d be able to go several days without noticing that the cell tower is down.

I never thought I’d be able to survive without toilet paper.

I never thought I’d be able to go an entire day without speaking English.

I never thought I’d be able to teach a class full of students who don’t speak English.

I never thought I could exist in a world without air conditioning.

I never thought I’d walk down the road and see chickens and crabs crossing the path in front of me and not even look twice.

I never thought I’d be able to live off of rice.

I never thought I’d be able to learn to like cold bucket showers.

I never thought I could go weeks without internet.

I never thought I would prefer local medicines over my western ones.

I never thought I would consider silverware unnecessary.

I never thought I would lose my terror of eating fish with a face.

I never thought I could live in the tropics without getting burnt to a crisp daily.

I never thought I’d be able to husk and crack open a coconut.

I never thought I could live without item that I once considered necessity.

I never thought I’d feel comfortable sharing my room with an assortment of geckos and spiders.

I never thought I’d be able to teach in another language.

I never thought I’d set off to wash my clothes wielding a wooden paddle.

I never thought I’d become unaffected by constantly naked children.

I never thought I’d have the time to sit and read an entire book in one day.

I never thought I’d be living in the jungle, completely cut off from modern civilization.

I never thought I’d have the stomach to watch an animal be killed and cooked and still want to eat it.

I never thought I would consider lying on a cement floor comfortable.

I never thought I’d be able to joke and tease in another language.

I never thought I could go months without television.

I never thought I’d eat raw fish, let alone call it my favorite food.

I never thought I’d look at my alarm clock/thermometer, see 87 degrees, and think, “hey, not bad.”

I never thought I could spend time in a foreign hospital and find the experience enjoyable.

I never thought I’d be able to simply walk a few minutes and see endless ocean in every direction.

I never thought I’d feel at home here.

Well, never say never.

--Christy