The Australians and I arrived in Chuuk Saturday around 3pm. Like Pohnpei, Chuuk is a beautiful island, but a lot less developed. Pohnpei is considered extremely luxurious among the volunteers, and now I also share this sentiment. Upon my arrival to the Chuuk airport, I was greeted with a mar mar (I THINK that’s the spelling?) which is a traditional Chuukese necklace, much like the Hawaain ley, weaved from flowers, fruits, and even things like money and boxes of candy. Mar mars are exchanged frequently, one of the occasions being one’s first arrival to Chuuk. The driver of the Xavier bus gave one to me made mostly of flowers, and Joe bought me one to wear on my head. Chuukese roads are hideous, but the drive from the airport was still absolutely incredible. The extreme and undiluted beauty of the island is offset by the extraordinary poverty, which really can’t be described even in terms of what is generally familiar in the states, and probably most of the West. As in Pohnpei, houses are generally small and flat-roofed made mostly of concrete and metal. Windows are boarded up with pieces of graffiti-sprayed wood while the houses themselves often remain partially open. Some of them are painted bright or pastel colors, similar to Spanish style homes, but the colors are usually faded and juxtaposed by unclothed children, sheet metal gates, trash, roaming, diseased animals, stagnant water, and the skeletons of cars. Sad looking stores dot the dirt road, usually only offering a small window inside a wooden or thatched shanty selling types of candy and cigarettes, but often out of water. Probably from my description the environment doesn’t sound so desolate and might even resemble a project area in Detroit or LA, but it’s nothing like that. There is a huge difference between not having access to certain resources and those resources not being available at all to begin with. For instance, it isn’t a question whether or not one can buy food, it’s the fact that there is no food to buy even if one had money. What’s interesting is that often I see small children coming to ask for food with no shoes (which isn’t a huge deal – shoes are generally not worn all the time anyway) or shirts, but they have a cell phone or an ipod. Western culture has certainly infiltrated this area in the way it does best – by accentuating the importance of the unimportant.

I was given another mar mar when I arrived at the school. They fade and die quickly, but I left them in my room and they still smell pretty nice. The room itself is nice, but very small and VERY hot. I share a bathroom with Lily, the school treasurer, and while most things technically work, the shower is more like a freezing cold, barely dripping faucet and the power shuts off around campus at midnight. I have a lantern in my room, but like most things here, it doesn’t work. The water is undrinkable, and because my boxes have not arrived with my Nalgene bottle, I need to drink filtered water out of a large pitcher instead. The geckos here are much bigger and much more prevalent as, apparently, are big spiders which thankfully I haven’t seen yet. Just as prevalent are billy goats and roosters/chickens which are EVERWHERE and crow at all hours of the day and night.
After arriving on Saturday, I walked around the campus a little and met Sam, the other new independent volunteer. Dinner was at 6 and consisted of rice, banana mash, chicken, and fish – heads, fins, and all. I ate everything I could – food is not as plentiful in Chuuk as on Pohnpei and since I’m used to snacking, I’m usually fairly hungry. Cake and ice cream were served after dinner for Tomi’s birthday, but this is rare. I spent some time trying to get to know the JVIs who arrived around 7. Everyone seems so close – I’m not fond of being the new person and trying to figure out how exactly to fit in (this is made especially difficult because everyone here is at least moderately religious). We went up to the roof from which the view of Chuuk, the ocean, and outer islands is absolutely gorgeous. Of course, after dark all you can see are millions of the bright, bold stars. They seem so much closer here. We drank sackao which is made out of mud and root and consequently looks and tastes like both things combined. It’s a very thick, brown gloopy mixture which contains clumps of sand and tastes like aged, dirty celery. The purpose is to go completely numb. On Pohnpei, sackao is made and drunk often – it’s a cultural icon. Not so much on Chuuk where the drink of choice is beer (Joe attributes much of Chuukese violence to alcohol consumption and not enough sackao which does not affect your motor and judgment skills quite like alcohol). The boys transported it via an old Clorox bottle (completely legal in FSM) and we finished the whole thing Saturday night. A few of us ended up playing cards until about 3:30 in the morning. I was glad to be completely exhausted since it’s hard for me to sleep with the heat and lizards.

Sunday we went to mass around 10am. The only reason I was even partially interested in attending the service was to hear it said in Chuukese. The chapel is a beautifully designed thatch building with white tile and opens on all sides, mostly right into the Pacific. Afterwards, the volunteers went to Sunday brunch at the school and then a few of us decided to trek downtown. Getting downtown is a long and arduous process. While there are “roads” in Chuuk, they are completely unrecognizable. They are mostly dirt paths full of giant potholes, enormous stones, mud, and lake-like puddles. Though downtown is only a few short miles away, it takes about an hour to get there. Not even halfway there, we incurred a flat tire, and noting that the spare was also flat, we called Xavier to come and collect us. We waited for about 2 hours and still no one showed. Some Chuukese came to talk to us and see what was going on. We walked a little to D.J.’s (a Xavier student) mother’s store and she gave us some water (which I’m hoping was ok to drink). With the help of several Chuukese and to the amusement of even more Chuukese children, we pushed the truck to D.J.’s house and walked an hour back to Xavier. The “shortcut” that Rey suggested to us led us up a steep and muddy pathway through the jungle. I was exhausted, but thankful to see the inside of the jungle. Coconut and breadfruit trees loom with their enormous palm leaves and while the air is saturated with a deep, moist heat, the shade from the trees and the wetness of the ground made for a cool and peaceful hike. When we finally got back to the school, I collected a few muu’muus (traditional Micronesian dresses) and skirts from Steph left over from Ellen and Katie, but I’m praying my boxes arrive either tomorrow or the next day. I’m in dire need of them.

Monday began orientation for the school year. I’m teaching sophomore and junior world history and senior literature. Martin also asked me if I would help out with drama. There seems to be a huge shortage of teachers, and I’m glad I can make the burden a little lighter, but three classes with multiple sections is a lot to handle. I began working on my curriculum and syllabus, but it’s difficult to find books that I like and think are important reading materials since there is such a huge shortage of books. We toured the campus and of course, went to mass. I’ll probably stop going in a few weeks much, I’m sure, to the chagrin not only of the school directors but of the fellow volunteers. Religion is a very integral aspect to Xavier and this is something with which I disagree. My feeling is that the purpose of education is to educate, and infusing your own personal beliefs does a disservice to the process. I would understand if there was a choice between a good religious school and a good public school, but this isn’t the case. Xavier is sought after my Micronesian students because it’s the best school – it has the most money, the most resources, and the most qualified teachers. Yet in order to receive a “proper” (what is still in my mind a pretty meager) education, one has to also abide by the religious aspects. A good education should not have to come at a price – people should educate because they believe in the development of individuals and ultimately of environments, not in order to satisfy a particular religious agenda. This is especially frustrating knowing that Chuukese were not always Christian and most of them still cling to their traditions which predate missionization.

We also made it into town on Sunday. Robin drove Rey, Hide, Sam and I to some stores downtown after we dropped some Chuukese Xavier workers at their house. I bought some water, a flashlight, and a DVD of Nip/Tuck season 5 for $4.00. We were out until after dark and missed most of the dinner food, but it was worth it to drive around. After dinner each night we mostly sit around playing cards or watching bootleg movies on TV. Tonight right before the power went out, Sammy found a huge crab scurrying around in his room and I had to get it out. I was surprised that I was the only one with crab experience.

Everyone is incredibly nice here, but amazingly, it’s still possible to feel lonely. I’ve noticed that things are very disorganized and it’s difficult to get things accomplished. Steph told me my room is prone to break-in attempts (I’m told I should be ok at night when I’m here because I can deadbolt the door) and that they would try to add some kind of reinforcement to the lock, but I’m guessing that won’t get done. I got my fan pretty quickly, but I really had to push to get people into town Sunday which turned out to be pointless anyway. People are very spontaneous here, which can be great but I’m a planner and I like things to be as efficient as I try to be. This is the wrong atmosphere for that kind of attitude. People mean well, but I don’t feel there is much of a work ethic. Additionally, people seem to take things as they come regardless of plans or what needs to get done. I’m trying so hard to learn the ropes – to buy things I need, figure out school stuff, get my laundry and room under control, but no one is really interested in spending too much time to help, usually dismissing it as “we’ll take of it later.” I often feel like a huge inconvenience because I’m used to things happening so quickly and on the spot. I know it’s a question of attitude and circumstance, and I don’t want to be aggressive. I just need to acclimate more maybe.

Speaking of which, I’m not looking forward to my first bout of sickness. Their second day here, the JVIs became incredibly ill with fevers well into the hundreds and an awful stomach bug. Greg assures that I WILL get sick soon and I’m fearing it. It’s hard enough to stand this heat and general dirtiness healthy, let alone on your deathbed.

Despite this, Chuuk is a beautiful place. I wish it was safer and easier to move around, but the views are absolutely out of this world. A lot of the time so far we’ve just been hanging out drinking out of coconuts trying to find things to talk about. I still feel like I’m on some bizarre vacation. The reality of spending a year here has not sunk in at all. I do miss home, but even more maybe I miss the capability of being in touch. Internet has been okay, but this isn’t usually the norm and when there is internet, there are so many people trying to use it that it’s impossible to have a private conversation. I have a cell phone, but it’s both expensive to call and difficult with the time difference. Hopefully I’ll start feeling more comfortable soon. It is an amazing place to be, I am just overwhelmed.
- L