Trying to keep this thing up, I promise!!
Two weekends ago, a few of us went to a small island called Pisar, which is largely uninhabited and located right on the edge of the reef (the defining line of rocks and coral separating lagoon from open ocean). Pisar fits the image of “paradise” that many people might envision Micronesia to be – the sand is white and the water is a very clear, bright blue. Palm trees, coconuts, and tiny hermit crabs dot the relatively tiny landscape, and I found some really amazing shells and giant pieces of coral to hopefully take home with me as actual souvenirs. The snorkeling was pretty great, though not as exceptional as when I went diving with my host family. We took a trip out to the reef and stood against the waves which, while were unswimmable because of the rocks, were beautiful and very welcoming to listen to. We built a fire and ate a communal meal of sashimi, grilled fish, taro, banana, and kon (pounded breadfruit). There was no power on the small island, so we started a bonfire on the beach before retiring to bed in hammocks.

This past weekend was Girls’ Gathering – a Xavier tradition in which the female students sleep over at the school (generally they stay with host families all around Weno) and play games, watch movies, and just bond in general. The boys are relegated to the dorm so that the girls can have free reign of the campus for once, which is much deserved. The girls here definitely get the short end of the straw when it comes to resources and access at Xavier. They get less study time, and less time for extra help since they leave at 5 and often have chores to do at their host families. They also have to make the tiring and arduous ride up to Xavier every day, twice a day meaning they have to wake up around 5 or 6, and don’t get home sometimes until around 7. I participated for a couple games, most of which involved humiliating me as “new teacher initiation” goes. It was all in good fun though, and I tried to be a good sport. They were all really excited that I joined in, and it makes me happy to know that my presence mattered to them.
Speaking of which, I have officially become the sophomore “mom.” Their class moderator, Sammy, has become the “dad.” They have created a whole, imaginary family life for us. I thought this was a strange game at first, until I noticed there is a multitude of Xavier “families.” Students will be other students’ grandparents, parents, sisters, brothers, and children. They will build entire family units and complex genealogies for themselves which are testaments to their generative creativity. One sophomore girl who spent an afternoon chatting in my office told me a story of a teacher last year who jokingly made fun of her for always flirting with a particular boy. She finally got so upset she cried for the rest of the class because this boy was her “Xavier father” and it hurt her that someone would accuse her of liking him. This story was particularly eye-opening because it demonstrated how seriously these students take the families they create because they are so far away from their own families, if they have them at all. They need both the attention and the structure of familiar familial relationships.

There is so much coming up in the next few weeks. FSM Independence Day is Tuesday, so we have Monday off from school. Papers and projects are going out like crazy because we only have about 7 more weeks of classes before Christmas break, which I can’t believe! Before I know it, second semester will be here and the year will be over just as quickly as it came upon me. When I first got here, I couldn’t fathom the amount of time a year would take – I left feeling like I would be gone forever, like I wouldn’t really see my things or my friends or my neighborhood anymore. The last minutes I spent in New York City were with Emily, Chris, and Gabe and I remember waving goodbye to them from the subway train windows feeling like the next time I saw them, we’d all be old and grey. It was an unrealistic way to look at things, but with the daunting picture of a very new and foreign place in front of me, it didn’t seem that unreasonable. Now the year is almost over. I don’t feel like a year is enough, but I think I’ll still be ready to go home.