[I left Pohnpei on November 8, 2011. True to form, I'm updating my blog about one month late. What's unique about this post, though, is that it will be my last.]

Leading up to my departure, I was flying high. Full of emotion, excitement, fear and all sorts of conflicting desires. I was amped up. Between my host family and my friends on island, I must have had 5 or 6 goodbye parties. For two whole weeks, we went on picnics, had feasts & dinner parties, and made speeches & toasts. I laughed, cried, hugged lots of people, and shook lots of hands. I got thanked for my service many times, and tried to articulate my deep gratitude for everything that had been given to me. In my mind I knew how lucky I was to have lived my experiences on Pohnpei, how much I loved my island family, and how much I would miss them when I got home.

But as fate would have it, my appreciation got a whole lot deeper.

If you follow other PCV blogs, I'm sure you've heard stomach bug horror stories. Amoeba. Parasites. The whole nine yards. Well, I almost got through my Peace Corps service completely unscathed by this nonsense. Almost. During my last 48 hours on island, however, it was my turn.

I think what happened is that I overloaded my schedule, didn't eat or sleep enough which sucker-punched my immune system, and subsequently caught a silly bacterial infection that was going around the island. The Peace Corps doctor thought it could have been stress-related. My host mother thought maybe I had eaten something that had been contaminated by flies ... food from somewhere other than our house, obviously. Maybe all of these explanations are true. Regardless, two days before I was scheduled to fly away, I became a complete invalid.

Afterwards, a chipper fellow PCV quipped that I was basically losing fluids through every orifice of my body. I'll narrow that description to just the ups and the downs of my digestive system. But it certainly did seem that my body was on a mission to rid itself of fluids, violently and unrelentingly. I was a mess, my strength had abandoned me, and I couldn't rely on myself anymore.

And that's where my host family comes in. I may have mentioned before that both my host parents are local doctors. Well, once they found out I was sick, they went to work. They gave me plenty of drinking coconuts. They rubbed my back and arms. They even made me a medicinal tea and then mixed in warm coconut water so that it would taste better to me.

It would have worked, too, if I had been patient with myself and sipped the remedies slowly. But I gulped it all down in an effort to expedite my healing. And it all came back up, with a vengeance. But I was not abandoned because I had my host family.

I made a mess of my room; my host mother patiently cleaned up after me. I reported that the Peace Corps doctor asked me to come to the hospital for an IV and some meds; my host father convinced my uncle to lend us his taxi so they could drive me there. Both my host parents accompanied me into the emergency room and sat through the English-language discussion of my symptoms and treatment, even though neither of them speak English fluently. They brought provisions for my overnight stay -- blankets, towels, a bucket for accidents (thankfully not used) -- and they would have stayed with me had I asked them.

After a good night of sleep and a bag and a half of IV fluid, I was feeling stronger. Before I was released from the hospital I had a parade of visitors -- my host sister and cousin, the Peace Corps doctor, and my good friend Suze all made appearances and kept me company. Suze even ran my errands for me and brought me milk crackers, ramen, and gatorade to nurse me back to health.

In a time where I could have been struck by the bad luck and loneliness of spending my last full day on island in the hospital, I never felt unlucky or alone. If anything, I felt inexpressibly grateful for just how cared for I had been, both that weekend and my whole time as a PCV. That day was a representation of my entire Peace Corps experience in miniature: it was something I foolishly believed I could manage by myself that actually taught me how much I need to rely on other people, too. I expected complete independence and instead was schooled in interdependence.

So as I flew away to strike out on my own, I took with me an abiding love and appreciation for the people who have shaped (and will shape) my path.

Kalahngan en Kupweromwail!

Thank you all very much!

Today I missed my “last dance” because of island time.

Let me back up a bit. Today is Education Day, which means that all the educators on the island celebrate learning by taking a day off school. The event was held at PICS, the high school in Kolonia. Everyone assembles at 9am to hear speeches, sing songs, dance dances, play games, and eat. This is how we celebrate everything else, so it works for education, too.

On Tuesday of this week, I was conscripted into the Madolenihmw teachers’ dance team. We met at MHS (Mad. High School) for a couple of hours each afternoon – three days of practice in all for those, like me, who joined a bit late. (The early birds started last week, apparently.) Although some men joined in the signing, the dancers were all women. We learned three dances: a locomotive one to make an entrance, a stationary one to perform in the middle, and another locomotive one to make our exit. The dances were primarily shuffling feet with lots of swiveling hips, accompanied by sign language-inspired hand motions to act out the words of the songs. All very typical for PNI dance.

It was great fun to go to dance rehearsals this week. The special education teacher at my school and I carpooled each afternoon. We’ve never been especially close, and it was a great opportunity to bond with her. She bragged to the other teachers about how fast I learned the moves. It was also the first time I’d had any major time to interact with other teachers in my municipality. There were a few familiar faces from past teacher trainings and meetings, but this was the first time we had a fun project to work on together.

Needless to say, I was pretty pumped about our performance today. I had my steps down. I had my “uniform” all in order – black skirt (the one with my name embroidered on it) and red shirt (a tank top from The Village Hotel that I turned inside out.

Principal had given me a schedule of the day’s events and I had everything planned out. I got in to town early this morning to take care of some errands. In a stroke of devious brilliance, I had intended to arrive around noon, in order to skip the speeches but partake in the food and the dancing.

However, when I was walking to the event around 12:15, I spotted my principal driving away from it. He pulled over and said, “Mollie! Your group is dancing right now!”

Sure enough, the entertainment section of the day was in full swing and my group had already performed. I snuck in and sat with my group, drawing many cries of: “You’re late! You missed it!” They said they had done a good job, but it would have been even better if I had been there.

So, with two and a half weeks left on Pohnpei, I have finally adapted to the point that I’m even later than the rest of the island’s “island time.” I guess I can’t get away with showing up three hours late and expecting to be on time, now, can I?

Or, my return to the States. Because with every Pohnpeian I talk to, these two subjects are inexplicably linked. This is strange and amusing to me for a variety of reasons, not least of all being the fact that looking for a husband is NOWHERE near the top of my to-do list. But here are a few examples of how the topic follows me around. (Translated & approximated from Pohnpeian)

Dialogue A

[While walking to school]

Middle-aged Pohnpeian man: Good morning, Mollie!

Me: Good morning!

Middle-aged Pohnpeian man: Find a Pohnpeian husband so that you don’t leave!

Me: Maybe one day. (This is how you brush someone off in an indirect culture)

Okay, so this one kind of makes sense and is flattering (in a place where telling single girls to get married isn’t considered sexual harassment or meddling). To me it says, “We like you and want you to settle here!” mixed with “Pohnpei is the best. Pohnpeian men are the best. Why go elsewhere?”

Dialogue B

[In the teachers’ office, after school]

Female coworker: So what will you do when you get back to America?

Me: Oh, you know, visit my friends and family. Maybe find a job or figure out grad school.

Female coworker: You should find a husband right away.

Me: Maybe…

Depending on the coworker, the conversation either ends there, or we get into an interesting comparison of cultures, e.g., what wonderful things life can hold for me as a 20-something woman without any dependents.

Dialogue C

[Afternoon in the kitchen – I’m 100% at the same table as the conversation]

Host mother: Mollie leaves in November!

Visiting woman: Wow, you’ll miss her. Will she get married and come back?

Host mother: Maybe one day. Our white daughter with skin the color of an eggshell is not in a hurry to get married.

Visiting woman: [under her breath w/sidelong glance at me] How old is she?

Me: 24.

Then the conversation branches in two directions. First, gossiping about the prospects of my 25-yr-old host sister, who is also unmarried. Then talking about my actual parents’ ages upon marrying & having children and comparing the size of American & Pohnpeian families (most Americans don’t have pigs to feed and bananas to pick; most Pohnpeians need more than two kids to get all those chores done).

In summary: I’m single. That fact really bothers most Pohnpeians. I hope someday to return here with a husband and a kid or two to put their minds at ease. Maybe in like 10 or 15 years…

... and she remembers to update much more regularly than I do. So, again, I'm going to let Suze tell you about one of the highlights of my summer! Everything went exactly as she said it did. I'm a lucky, lucky girl!

Love,

Mollie

Hello! Kathy, Mollie's mom, posting upon Mollie's request.

What was happening on Pohnpei, FSM, when Mollie's parents were lucky enough to be there in July 2011!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HiDSw07v8Sk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tarDwBykvPg&NR=1

They had clinic for three days at Mollie's school and she helped translate for triage one day. There were also clinics at the main hospital and at another school on the other side of the island. We saw the road scattered with many people walking to get medical care, more as the word got out.We had fun watching softball and soccer games of local teams vs navy / marines teams. Must say the Pohnpei Football Club did shine on the day!!! (Kathy's a big fan!)We worked with extra-duty military team volunteers when we were helping the Peace Corps Volunteers with story time at the library. They were reading to the kids one-on-one! The "One World, Many Stories" theme sure was prescient and came true right in Pohnpei this summer!The navy band played big concerts twice at the softball field by the Spanish Wall (ie town center) in Kolonia and also performed at Mollie's school to entertain the people waiting in line. The July 4th concert was quite fun, I heard.And Pacific Partnership participants did all this in full fatigue uniform including boots -- except the athletes! -- in Noteworthy Heat!I don't know if most of the world is aware of this remarkable joint effort by military and medical volunteers from many countries, but it was amazing! They lived on a big navy vessel anchored out at sea and boarded the landing craft at about 4:00 in the morning to be in place on various locations on island on time. They got back to the ship about 8:00 pm every night.

Posted with appreciation by Kathy!

Graduation ceremonies for Lukop Elementary took place on May 27, 2011. This year my eighth graders asked me to say a few words for the occasion. This was lucky for me because I love them a lot, and I had plenty to say (10 minutes worth!).

[Video Here!]

The text of what I said is below. The first Pohnpeian part is just the introduction, acknowledgment of high titles, etc. Then there's my speech in English and the Pohnpeian translation (translated by my principal and practiced together ... aww, bonding!). Lastly is a surprise presentation of Math Olympiad certificates the principal asked me to do.

Enjoy!

Kalahngan menindei,

Thank you, MC.

Kaselehlieh mainkoa,

Hello everyone,

Mwohn meh koaros ei tungoal sakaradahn wahu pahn kupwuren samatail koht, wauniki lukodo koaros nan palien tiahk, mwomwohdiso oh government.

Before everything, I want to give thanks to God and pay respect to the traditional and government leaders present.

Kumwail ketin kupwureie,

[I'm not actually sure what this means ... Principal just told me that people say it.]

Mwurin ansou kis, irail me kesepwil kan pahn patohwan arail tungoal kisin likoun kadehdeh me re neksangehr rahnwet. Ahpw mowe I pahn ekis patohieng ihr ni wai ah mwuri I pahn kawehweh ni lokaiahn Pohnpei.

In a little while, the graduates will receive their diplomas. But first I will say a few words in English and translate them into Pohnpeian.

To the Class of 2011, My Very Dear Friends,

Our time together in the classroom at Lukop Elementary School is now over. However, I still have time for one last vocabulary lesson:

In English we have two words for this kind of ceremony. One is graduation, and the other is commencement. “Graduation” means moving on from one thing to something higher, and “commencement” means “a beginning.” Neither word means “the end.” We use these words at graduations because today we are not only celebrating the things you have achieved in the past (“past tense”), but we are also celebrating all the possible things you will accomplish in the future (“future tense”).

So although my time as your teacher is over, I stand here to praise what wonderful students you are and to celebrate the exceptional graduates you will become. In the last 18 months, I have seen each of you grow in confidence and find your voice. You were quiet and shy, and now you stand in front of your families to give speeches and sing songs. You were academically unsure, but you showed dedication to your studies. Now each of you has passed the test and will go to high school next year. Each and every one of you has a bright future.

This November, I, too, will celebrate a commencement – I will go back home to start the rest of my life in America. Like you, and because of you, I have grown a lot in the last 18 months. You have changed my life. I taught you some grammar and a few silly songs, but you taught me how to work together, how to support one another, and how important family is. Thank you for being my family here. I have been blessed to be a part of your present. I will continue to cheer for you as you commence your life as elementary school graduates. Through hard work you have the potential to change your world for the better. Although I won’t be on Pohnpei anymore, I am so excited to see what you will do and what you will be.

Congratulations to the Graduates!

[Translation of the English above]

Ong kumwail me kesepwil kan,

Atail ansoupene nan perehn sukuhl nan Lukop Elem. School e nekier. Ahpw, ansouet ahi ansoun kasukuhlihkin kumwail keimwseklahn lepin lokaia riau.

Lepin lokaia riau kin doadoahk ni lokaiahn wai ong soangen kasarawiet. Ehu iei graduation, ah ehu commencement.

Graduation wehwehki kosousang ehu dake kosoudalahng ehu dake me ilehsang.

Commencement wehwehki tapiada de tepda. Sohte ehu rehn lepin lokaia riauet me wehwehki nekier de imwseklahr.

Lepin lokaia riauet kin doadoahk ni kesepwil, pwe kitail sohte kasarawih pweidah kan me ke wiadahr de ke kanekelahr ahpw kitail pil kasarawih pweidahkan me ke pahn wia ni ansou me pahn kohdo mwuhr kan.

Eri, I solahr wia amwail sounpadahk, ahpw I patohda mwohmwail ansoukiset pwe ien kepinga uen amwail wia tohnsukuhl mwahukei, oh pil pahn wiahla aramas pweidahkei ehu rahn. Nan erein sounpwong 18 me neklahr, I kilangehr emen emen kumwail eh keirda ni koapwoaropwor, oh saledek. Mahs kumwail me nenen oh namenek ah met kumwail kakehr kesihkerda mwohn peneinei oh koul oh kapahrek. Kumwail sohte nohk ahniki koapwoaroapwoar ahpw sang ni amwail ngoang oh tohnmetei kumwail koaros pil pahsehr des en high school oh pahn karadahr nan high school pahr kohkohdoh. Kumwail koaros pahn pweida nan amwail ouremen.

Nan nohpempehn pahret, I pil pahn duehte kumwail me pahn tapiade ahi mour nan ahi wasa nan wein America. Duei kumwail oh pwehki kumwail, soahng tohto I koledi nan erein sounpwong 18 me neklahr. Kumwail inenen wekedala eimour. I padahkieng kumwail lokaiahn wai oh koul en wai, ah kumwail padahkihengie duen doadoahkpene, sawaspene oh kesempwalpen peneinei. Kalahngan en kumwail pwehki amwail wiahkinie kisehn amwail peneinei. I inenen pahiamwahu pwehki atail patpene, ahi sawas sohte pahn tokedi sang mahs leledo met oh pil pahn kohkohlahte. Ma kumwail pahn nantiheng amwail sukuhl oh doadoahk kumwail kak kamwahuiala amwail wasahn kousoanakan.

I solahr pahn mi pohnpei ahpw I udahn pereniki kilang de rong dahme kumwail pahn wia oh dahme kumwail pahn wiahla ehu rahn.

Congradulations ong kumwail me kesepwil kan oh ni wahu, kalahngan en kupwuramwail koaros.

Ansoukiset, I pahn patohwen weliandi ohpis ahpw mehlel principal oh patohwanda kisinlikoun kaping de certificate riau ong tohn sukuhl riemen me iangehr towehda Math Olympiad de siai en wahntuhke ong pwihn kawalou me wiawi ni May 12 en pahr wet.)

Now I will represent the office and the principal in presenting these two certificates to two students who competed in the 8th grade Math Olympiad on May 12 this year.

Eri en kak sanasal me ira riemen pwukat iang alehdi nempe siluh nan Pohnpei.

These two students placed third in Pohnpei.

Eri tohnsukuhl riemen pwukat iei

The two students are:

1. Ivan Jerome Usiel

[The class' valedictorian]

2. Michelle Olter

[The class' saluditorian ... and the principal's daughter!]

I men peki kitail koaros en ketkihiengira ehu lapalahn lopwolopw.

I ask everyone to give them a big round of applause!

Two of my closest friends on Pohnpei recently wrote different takes on the duality inherent in our island life. I think their work is brilliant, and I think it can stand for itself. I'd also like to point out how lucky I am to have these friends.

So, thank you very much, Cori Jo and Suze.

Love to you all!

Mox

PS: Congratulations to my brother EJ, the law school graduate!

Greetings!

A lot of interesting things happened in April, especially at the end of the month. I thought I'd mention a few. It couldn't hurt, right?

School went along swimmingly. We ran an after school library, to the students' enjoyment and the paperback books' rapid deterioration (it's humid here!). I finally got back out on a boat to go to a small picnic island/islet called Nahlap. And then I got on a boat again to go to a snorkeling place called Manta Row ... at which I ACTUALLY swam with enormous manta rays! Back at the homestay, I witnessed my first pig birth (slippery) and survived a toddler relative accidentally getting into my room and trashing a lot of stuff (emotional but good ... can post on that in more detail later).

And then there were a lot of photo opportunities.

In honor of Easter I went muumuu shopping with my friend Cori Jo. On actual Easter, I went to church with my family. (Nohno Melihper and I are pictured below.)

On the last Wednesday in April I participated in the Education USA College Fair, an event for students on Pohnpei interested in pursuing higher education in the States. I sat at a table with a homemade Harvard sign and talked a lot about wonderful opportunities and ridiculously generous financial aid packages. By the end of the day I was feeling quite nostalgic.

Two days after that, Lukop Elementary School built an Earth Day Garden with US Embassy and USDA. We were a week late because Earth Day fell on Good Friday this year, and religion trumps international environmentalism any day of the week in Pohnpei. But we enjoyed a nice afternoon reflecting on how to be better caretakers of our world, and we learned how to use both chicken AND pig manure in rows and raised bed gardening! We planted cabbage at the school (a week later the little green shoots are already up!), and each student got to take home a citrus seedling to plant and tend at his/her home. Thanks to Michaela Corr of the US Embassy of FSM for coordinating this event!

Later that evening, we had a sillier photo op/publicity moment at our Princess Party in honor of the Royal Wedding. Aside from making it onto CNN, I was most proud of the pillbox hat I had fashioned out of construction paper and paperclips.

Things to look forward to in May include graduations and celebrations of all sorts. I'll do my best to keep you posted.

Much love,

Mollie

January to March, 2011

Events in this album include:

-Pahpa Simion's funeral

-Library clean-up

-Glitter day

-Valentine's Banquet

-Stamp design contest

-Teachers' Forum

-Pohnpei Culture Day

...and various dinners with friends, fun times at home, etc.

Much love to you all!

Mox

Pre-Peace Corps I went to the dentist about every six months for a cleaning and examination. I pride myself on the fact that I have never had a cavity. I was very happy to learn that Pohnpei has a Peace Corps approved dental office. Since I have been in Pohnpei for almost seven months, and I hadn’t been to the dentist in almost 10, I decided it was time for a check up.

The irony began on the way to my appointment, my taxi driver was missing most of his teeth, I hoped this wasn’t some sort of omen, but rather a good reminder as to why I was voluntarily visiting the dentist.

After entering the waiting room, which had neither plush sofas, an assortment of magazines, nor aroma of potpourri, I checked in and was ushered back into the examination room. The woman who would be cleaning my teeth greeted me with a gold-toothed smile, again, a reminder as to why I was here. I sat in the chair and we started engaging in small talk, she asked me all the typical questions: Do I have brothers and sisters? Where in the states am I from? What religion am I? Do I like Pohnpei?

I thought I could be nice and show some interest in her. I asked her where she had gone to school to become a hygienist. I asked the question because I thought travel could be something we had in common, but she took it as I was nervous about having her work in my mouth. It turns out she wasn’t a hygienist like I first assumed, but rather a dental assistant. She informed me not to worry, she had been doing this for 26 years, and although she had never been to school, she had learned from experience.

After taking a peak in my mouth she noted how nice my teeth were. She repeatedly said, “Sohte cavity” which means “no cavities” she also told me several times in Pohnpeian how nice my teeth were.

Although she had never received formal training she had mastered the art of asking questions while her hands were in my mouth and there was no way I could answer. She also completed all the normal routine cleaning procedures. The only big difference was instead of an easy listening radio station playing in the background, I could hear the Filipino Soap Opera playing in the waiting room.

There were a few “I’m in Pohnpei reminders” during my visit, the chair was never fully reclined, which didn’t bother me, but I think it made it more difficult for her to have full access to all of my teeth. Also, since most of the teeth she sees everyday are covered in tobacco, limestone, and betel nut residue she told me that my teeth were already clean. I think she was confused as to why exactly I had come to the dentist when it was obvious that my teeth were fine. Also I wasn’t told I was doing anything wrong. When I have visited my dentist in the past it seems no matter how well I think I am brushing or flossing I am given directions to improve.

I’ll be visiting my regular dentist in 9 months or so, when I’m home for a visit. We’ll see how “mwahu douluhl” my teeth really are.

Although I’m Cori Jo, not Mollie, her teeth are also uhdahn mwahu! I hope you have enjoyed our April Fools blog swap, you can read about Mollie here.

Cori Jo

Greetings!

We've just rounded the corner into 4th quarter here at Lukop Elementary School. It'll be my final quarter as a classroom teacher, since next fall I'll act as a resource teacher for the whole school before I depart in November. Time is flying. I'm very much going to miss my students when we part -- especially my 8th graders, since they've been my students as long as I've taught in Pohnpei.

All is well here. No earthquakes, tsunamis, or toxic runoff are ruffling our feathers on Pohnpei as of now. In fact, we've been blessed this month with a whole lot of business-as-usual, with oodles of academic competitions -- math olympiads, essay contests, science fairs -- coming our way from the DOE.

In addition to the official doings, we've had a few special events happening around campus.

First, we were lucky enough to host a group of Japanese Medical Students here on an exchange program a few days before the tsunami. They came to our classrooms to meet the students, learn about their families, and make lots of balloon animals and oragami boxes. My favorite part of their visit was when we all went to my host family's house to talk to them about local medicine. I got to act as an interpreter, which was a great way for me to learn about my host parents' work, too!

The next bit of big, educative news is that L.E.S. now has a library! It's small, and only the junior novels have been catalogued, but it's a definite start! Hopefully the whole thing will be organized and ready for student use by the end of the summer. I'm ecstatic now, though, because all of my 7th and 8th grade students were able to check out their own independent reading book last week. For many of them it's the first book they've EVER read on their own/for fun. As a lifelong reader, it brings me joy to see them diving into books for the first time!

The independent reading project also has brought some amusement on the homework front. Earlier this week I assigned a writing response on the topic of setting. I asked each student to identify the setting of their novel and to say whether or not they would like to visit it.

My favorite response came from my student with the best sense of humor, Alex Alexander. With his permission, I've included his unedited response to "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" below:

I want to go to this place, because I really want to see it with my own eyes. If there is a man half goat. I want to touch him, talk to him and teach him how to plant sakau. I want to see the beavers. I want to see their faces. I want to sit and watch if a female beavers know how to use a sewing machine.

Its very funny to read about these things. I’ve been so eager to see it. I want to talk to the lion and his crew. And to see if ther’s a wich that has a magic wand. I want to kill her and take her wand away. And turn my enemy in to stone.

Finally, I really want to see these things, to sea if they’re real. I want to be the tourist to all these stuffs. To find more about these creatures. To learn more about them because I’m so interested.

Hopefully the interest keeps up, as well as the occasional blog for you all!

Lots of love,

Mollie

I never thought I’d say this, but just I celebrated Valentine’s Day all weekend here in Pohnpei! In my community last year I felt like I was the only person who even knew it was Valentine’s Day. But 2011 seemed to be the year of the Valentine’s Renaissance on PNI, and I got to celebrate it in a number of ways. (None of which involved a boyfriend, so you can put down the hedge clippers, Dad!)

My first Valentine-esque activity actually had roots in something that to me was very sad. I found out last week that one of our 4th grade students got pregnant over Christmas break. It was later revealed that she had been truant all but one day last semester, was several years older than her grade-level, and had other issues outside of school that would put her at risk. But the news still upset me greatly, especially since few staff members at our school could recall the last time a Sex Ed team came to Lukop to give “the talk” (here called “ia mumwen naitik” or “how to give birth”). I felt like we had failed her.

So, with my principal’s permission, I got to work and called up the Public Health office. Eventually, I connected with the Adolescent Health team, and two of their educators agreed to visit our school. That visit landed on Friday, February 11 and kicked off V-Day weekend for me.

Their presentation was great – they had an informative flip chart and power point, but the best part of all was seeing my students paying attention and asking important questions about their health. We invited all students grades 5 through 8 to attend and divided them by gender into two classrooms. I was in the girls’ classroom with a female colleague, and two of our male colleagues were with the boys. The Pohnpeian health educator did a great job of answering questions in a way that minimized the girls’ embarrassment. Some girls were quiet while others were chatty with their friends, but I believe everyone learned something. I can only imagine how it was for the boys. It seemed like a steady stream of them were walking back and forth from their classroom to the bathroom, craning their necks to see what the girls were doing.

They got a taste of their own medicine, however, when the girls were excused a few minutes before the boys, and we got to witness them performing a hilarious song and dance their educator had taught them (for some reason the girls didn’t learn it). It’s to the tune of Frère Jacques with words and hand motions as recorded below:

Watermelon, watermelon

(Pantomime an enormous pregnant belly in front of your belly)

Papaya, papaya

(Pantomime holding and/or squeezing large breasts in front of your chest; giggle moderately)

Guava and banana, guava and banana

(Curve the fingers of both hands into a small spheres and stick out your index finger in front of your crotch; giggle maniacally)

Fruit salad, fruit salad

(Pantomime stirring an enormous pot with a humongous ladle; continue aforementioned giggling)

On Saturday I was included in an entirely different manner of Valentine celebrations. The youth group at our local Baptist church sometimes holds social events. This weekend it was decided that they would have a Valentine’s banquet on Saturday night with “partners” (“dates”), even though practically all the young people in the church are cousins. It was held in the Sunday School annex to the main church building, and the girls got together to clean and decorate on Saturday morning. I enjoyed cutting out LOTS of little paper hearts that day with the girls – my small contribution to what turned out to be a VERY well-decorated banquet space. The official start time was 4:30 pm, so by about 7pm all the boys and the girls were there and dressed to the nines – the girls were waiting in their most formal gowns with their hair gracefully and painstakingly styled on one side of the church building, and the boys were playing volleyball in their collared shirts, gelled hair and jeans on the other side.

Then we filed in – the “honored guest” (me) got to hit the buffet and find my seat first (There was even an artificial, long stemmed rose waiting for me there with a tag that read “Molie Write”). Then the “couples” came in. The pastor and his wife were hosts, other ladies from the church were helping serve kool-aid out of coffee carafes, and I helped out by taking lots of pictures. After eating, we had a few songs by the girls, a testimony time, and a game of balloon volleyball (!!!!!!) before a short sermon on love, based on John 3:16. After it was done, everyone helped clean up and we all went home.

You couldn’t find two more diverse ways to celebrate Valentine’s Day, could you? But wait! There’s more!

On Monday—actual Valentine’s Day—I did my standard grammar activity excuse just to make Valentine’s in class (We practiced adjectives, adverbs, and verbs. See? “Dear Valentine, You are very beautiful! I love you! Love, Your Valentine”). The students enjoyed it, I had a few embarrassed gigglers who were taking the opportunity finally to let a special someone know “You are extremely handsome and popular,” but it was pretty standard other than that.

Then on Monday night I went to a reading of the Vagina monologues and a discussion of domestic violence at the First Annual (we’re hoping) Pohnpei V-Day. It was amazing to hear Pohnpeian women speaking out about an issue that is just not discussed here, although it is an enormous problem. I was especially heartened to hear from Pohnpei’s sole female member of the legislature, as well as key members from women’s groups around the island. Also, a number of men from the audience took a pledge at the end of the presentation to “protect the women in my life from violence and abuse.” Pretty cool, huh? Pohnpei V-Day even made it onto the international V-Day website of events! (You can see it here! http://events.vday.org/)

That about covers it for my Valentine’s Day celebrations. So let me send you all a big hug and let you know that I love you THIS much, since that’s what Valentine’s Day is all about anyway!

Sincerely your infrequent but heartfelt blogger,

Mox

See piccies of the family vacay here.

It was a restorative 2+ weeks spent on Kauai with my nearest and dearest. As I explained to a friend, this mellow island was the perfect mix of both of my "homes" (America & Pohnpei). I was so grateful to spend time with my immediate family, especially after we received some sad news from our extended family that would have been difficult to handle on my own.

Despite juggling 5 people's travel itineraries, we did have some quality good times. We ate many delicious meals & tasty treats (FRESH VEGGIES! Lynko's house! Smoothies! Lappert's Ice Cream!). We had many sporty adventures (I golfed! I hiked! I jumped off a waterfall cliff!). We taught Mom about autotune. The rest of the time we hung out at the various beaches around the island, and I savored the feeling of sand between my toes and the sound of waves crashing nearby.

So, although it will be a tough transition back into my "regular" life, I am very much at peace and happy. Thanks, Family, for a wonderful trip!

ps: The photo at the top of my blog was taken years ago on this very island. Mom and I went walking, found the same spot, and trespassed a little bit to revisit the memory.

Merry Christmas to all my readers, and thank you for your support!

SEE VIDEO

Much love and blessings to you all today and in the new year,

Mox

I’ve been told about the central role that family plays in the culture of the Pacific since before I came here. I’ve lived over a year in an island where every new Pohnpeian I meet is able to tell me exactly how we’re related through various connections with my host families. During funerals on-island I’m reminded that, yes, most people feel they should attend EVERY funeral because, in some way or another, they’re family with that person.

But sometimes, even when you think you “get it,” cultural awareness hits you over the head like a baseball bat. And I don’t mean that in a bad way.

A couple of weeks ago, we made family trees in my Oral English/grammar classes. In 7th, we just made simple, pretend family trees to practice using the basic family vocabulary in sentences in which the subjects and predicates agree (to limited success). In 8th grade, we felt we were up to the challenge of graphing our OWN families using family trees. The results were sprawling spiders of names … some of them understood how and why to connect these names, others not quite. But the big shocker moment came when I was collecting them.

There are a few sets of siblings in my 8th grade class, so I joked that some family trees would look pretty similar. Then I realized that cousins, too, would be represented on the trees. So I asked, by a show of hands, which students had cousins or siblings in our class. And in my 8th grade class of 20 students, only FOUR students didn’t raise their hands. I know that if I had asked them to raise a hand if they had cousins or siblings at our school (of 200-ish students), every hand would have been raised. A school full of family didn’t surprise me. But standing there looking at my class-full of cousins really threw me for a loop.

I smiled and tried to explain to them how this was different from my life/how that percentage of family in your class would be unusual in the States (except for in very small towns). Now, I’m not from a particularly large or small town. And growing up I always had a feeling that I was a part of a big and closely connected extended family, especially on my dad’s side. But then, as I was explaining to my students how I never, EVER had been in an academic classroom with a single sibling or cousin because all my cousins were older than me and lived in different cities, I realized how strange that must sound to them. To them it would look like I was all alone for my whole schooling life. And in that moment, I looked at myself through their eyes and thought, “Wow! That must have been really lonely!” And as I was being thusly moved, I tried to tell them what a unique gift their large, loving, and accessible extended families are—how they are lucky and blessed to be Pohnpeians/Micronesians/Pacific Islanders—but I wasn’t quite able to communicate my epiphany to them. To be completely honest, they were distracted when I got a little choked up in the telling.

But this was okay, my emotio-cultural epiphany, because my 8th grade class is a happy and accepting place to be (God bless them). [For example, on a different day we did a paired vocabulary activity about baseball. The first pair to finish was a duo of one of my highest- and one of my lowest-achieving students. They finished first because the high-achiever just filled out all the answers while the other copied. So I congratulated them on their speed, and then asked the former to explain what was going on to the latter. And as they bent their heads over their worksheets and I heard/saw the process of explanation, translation, and comprehension, I realized something else unique and heart-warming about this class – the explainer was 12 years old and my youngest student; the explainee was nearly 17 years old, the eldest in the class. They were dressed alike, in plaid, cargo shorts and black t-shirts, with skinny, machete-scarred legs extending down into Pohnpei zories. But the explainer’s legs barely reached the floor, while the explainee’s knees barely made it under the desk. And yet they worked together harmoniously, without any of the attitude or resentment one might expect from an age-authority reversal. Again, my 8th grade class is a wonderful place to be.]

But back to the family moment. After class that day, I talked with some of my students about how crazy my history must look to them—that as I’ve grown older I’ve been gradually conditioned to go further away from my family for longer periods of time. And how to me that’s normal, to maintain your claim to your family’s love while purposefully distancing yourself and “making your own life” in a new place—I mean, most people in the States do that without even needing to go abroad.

Pohnpeians understand having to go away from your family for a time to find work, send money home, and (hopefully) one day return with enough money to set yourself and your family up for a while in style. But that I haven’t seen my family for 15 months because I chose to go somewhere and make no money (on purpose!), and that I miss my family but am no literally sick for home, makes me a complete oddity to them. (Also that day I found out that my 8th grade co-teacher had started high school in Palau and, for a full semester, suffered actual, physical symptoms of homesickness.)

By most people here it’s assumed that, when I am done with Peace Corps, if I don’t marry a Pohnpeian man and stay forever, then I’ll go back to California to live. Because that’s where my family is, so why would I want to go anywhere else? And as I’ve been away from my family, I begin to see that they have a point. How wonderful it seemed to me that day to be always, literally, surrounded by family. Upon further reflection I can see that nothing’s perfect and that being forever tied into family connections and obligations without having a choice in the matter can also have its downsides. But that day it was a pleasant window (albeit a small one) into how my students view the world.

Ps: My REAL family matters, too. Very much so. I’m going to see them in December—we’re meeting up in Kauai one month from today! And since 15 months is the longest time I’ve ever spent without seeing them face-to-face, I am suitably excited! My computer’s background is a throwback picture from Homebuilders circa 1990 that Mom emailed a while ago. I went into paint, drew a big, pink heart around the four of us, and set it as desktop. To them, “I love you, and I’ll see you soon!”

Hello!

When we last left our heroine, she was embarking on a mysterious trip, crossing seas and pursuing health care with great aplomb. Then she kind of got sidetracked and left everyone hanging. For this she is deeply sorry, or at least a little bit repentant.

The truth is that my time in the Philippines is NOTHING like I expected it to be! Cool, right?! Remember how I was going to be alone a lot? Remember how I was getting new glasses? Yeah. Neither of those things happened. Instead I made a lot of new friends, explored Manila more than I thought I would, and came home with a totally unexpected and laughably simple solution for my eye problems (one that doesn't even involve glasses!).

I should start with the eyes, since they were the cause of this little vacay. When I went to the ophthalmologist, whose offices were located in a mall named Shangrila, they examined my eyes and declared them functionally perfect, except that my "tear bays were a little low." (Since I'm now a fisherman's daughter, I automatically associated this diagnosis with low tide.) So basically I was told that I don't need ANY glasses for ANYTHING (a reversal of the last two years of bespectacled reading & computer time), and I was given ELEVEN boxes of moisturizing eye drops, plenty to bring my eyes back to high tide.

I was in Manila from Saturday night until Thursday night (flights from Manila to FSM do not run daily, you see). All the medical stuff happened on Monday. So I had the rest of the time to do with as I liked. Which I promise would have been spent regaling you with adventure stories if I hadn't been surrounded by people with whom I could make those adventures!

"What people?" I hear you ask. Well, the hostel where they set me up for the week also happens to be the central landing place for any and all Philippines PCVs, and my trip corresponded with several cool people coming through for various business. In fact, from the moment the lovely and hospitable PCMO ushered me into my hostel (after she met me at my terminal as I deplaned on a Saturday night ... what a lady!), I defaulted into having at least 15 new friends! There was a group of PCVs and PCTs sitting on the patio who were eager to welcome me once I said the magic "Peace Corps" words. It's funny, the Philippines has so many volunteers that there was some initial confusion/assumptions that I was, in fact, one of their in-country peers who they had somehow failed to meet earlier. But then we sorted it out and got down to the business of getting acquainted and having fun.

Over the week with my new friends I experienced Videoke (Video Karaoke; I hear it's the Philippines' national pastime), went out dancing in a club that plays more than 5 songs on loop (!!!!), ate delicious meals (Indian! Shawarma! Mexican! Dark Chocolate Cakes! Milkshakes!), and went to funky markets and upscale malls. So, yes, my main activity in Manila was consumerism, and it was fantastic. Amidst these adventures I got a chance to have wonderful conversations with some really excellent individuals. A recurring theme was comparing and contrasting PC experiences past, present and future -- what got us here, what life is like now, and where we hope it will take us. It's amazing that I was able to connect so well with people I just met--and was able to share and listen to really personal stories (you know who you are; thank you).

The other best part of the trip (I think we're several "bests" in right now ... it was a really great trip!) was the opportunity to skype using the free, fast internet at the hostel. Even though I was on the other side of the world (12-hour time difference from EST, what?!) It was amazing to see my familiar faces. I love you all very much! Thank you for connecting with me!

So that basically sums up my trip, but it only brings you up to speed to the beginning of October. Since that time, I spent a couple of weeks madly catching up with my work at school in time for mid-term exams and tried to get a good direction going for 2nd quarter (tough with all these early November holidays & community funerals, but who doesn't like a nice day or several off from school?). I also experienced the relationship twilight zone of saying goodbye to the last of the M75s on-island, getting to know the new M77s who will be sworn in next week, and looking forward to seeing the rest of my M76s when we come together for our Mid-Service Conference in December. I'm also falling more deeply in love with my host family, making new friends/having new experiences in Pohnpei, and looking forward to seeing my REAL family in Kauai in December. As my dear friend Caitlin would say (in quoting a great film), "It's all happening!"

So thanks for caring about what's happening with me. What all is happening for you?

Love!

Mox

To explain the reference, “kasdo” is Pohnpeian for “movie.” And “kasdo en Philippine” is what they call Filipino soap opera sagas, which are very popular in Pohnpei. But what, you may ask, does this have to do with me? Answer: I’m going to the Philippines! Actually, as I type I’m already halfway there. I’m writing from the Guam airport, which is easily the swankiest structure I’ve seen in a year. I’ve already had many adventures so far today, including leaving Pohnpei for the first time in a year and seeing/landing in Chuuk for the first time (the lagoon islands and Weno are quite lovely from the air), and eating Burger King (eh, not so impressive). But why am I going to the Philippines? Shouldn’t I be in Pohnpei shaping young minds and interacting with my community? Well, yes. Yes, I should be. And I will be doing so again in one week’s time, if all goes as planned. But the The Peace Corps is sending me to the Philippines. Why? For an eye exam and to renew my reading glasses’ prescription. !!!!! Yes, I’m flying many, many miles on the Peace Corps’ dime for an eye exam. And this is simply because my prescription is getting old and Pohnpei doesn’t have the technology to read, prescribe or treat my particular ocular malady. The official term for what’s happening to me right now is a “medevac”—which is shorthand for a “Medical Evacuation.” Which clearly does not bring to mind a visit to the optometrist. But, as my wonderful and attentive PCMO explained to me, Peace Corps is responsible for my health during these two years. If I have a medical problem, they will treat it. And if that problem requires facilities or procedures not available to me at site, they will get me where I need to go so that we can resolve the problem. So, rather than conjuring up terrifying images of emergencies and life support, a medevac is basically just an extension of the really exceptional health care insurance that is the Peace Corps Medical Office. So back to my kasdo en Philippine. The plan is this: I’ll be staying in Manila for a week because of flights. The only medical business I have to attend to are a visit to the optometrist and whatever necessary follow-up visits I might need. Other than that, I’ll be hanging out in my hotel, shopping in the malls, eating in the restaurants, and reading in the cafés & coffee shops. Which is what the characters in these films do, pretty much. (Expect not in the period-piece ones, obviously) So I’ll have a one-woman show, literally. A mini vacation with a medical overlay. Which is a really exciting surprise. (I say “surprise” because I found out two days ago that this was the plan.) The only downside is that I will honestly miss my island, family and school. Yesterday was slightly crazy trying to plan for the week of my absence, but my coworkers and family members have all been nothing but obliging. As soon as everyone realized that no, I’m not horribly sick, they all god excited about my trip. I’ve gotten many bits of advice on what to buy, how not to get cheated, and how to stay safe. At least 5 times people have told me not to wear “jewels” and stick my hands out of car windows because thieves will chop off the bejeweled hand. If it’s a tall tale, it’s a powerful one here. And speaking of hands, it is tradition here to shake hands with a person before they leave on a trip. So even a trip as short as this one looks to be, everyone I know gave me a strong handshake with earnest blessings for my journey. My American Dad will also be happy to hear that my Pohnpeian Dad gathered everyone around to bless my journey before I left the house. Although I don’t think he used the exact term “travelling mercies,” I’m sure that he meant it. And my trip has been blessed already – due to a conference in Thailand, Bruce, our post’s fabulous AO (Administrative Officer), is on all my flights until Manila. So I’ve had a great travel buddy to help me navigate the various stop-overs and transfers that are part-and-parcel with travelling in the Pacific. But now it looks like we’re boarding now. If I’m feeling up to it, I’ve got a nice information packet for my medevac. Guess what that’s stored in? You guessed it … a manila envelope!

Written Thursday, September 09, 2010

This week I had my eighth graders write dialogues about Pohnpeian traditions, with spectacularly fun results. Here’s my personal favorite, written and performed with aplomb by two of my top students and my one IEP (Pohnpei DoE for Special Ed) student, all boys. [Brackets mine][Shakira and Peggy enter from left; Sinsohn enters from right]

Shakira: Hi, how are you?

Peggy: What’s your name?

Sinsohn: My name is Sinsohn. What is your name?

Peggy: [With hands on hips and feminine flair] This is my friend Shakira, and I am Peggy.

Shakira: What is an important tradition in Pohnpei?

Sinsohn: Planting yam.

Peggy: How do you plant the yam?

Sinsohn: We will dig a hole, put the yam in the hole, and bury it.

Shakira: And then what do you do?

Sinsohn: After one week, we will put a stick on the yam, and the vine will grow into the trees.

Peggy: How do you eat the yam?

Sinsohn: We will take it out of the hole, wash it, peel the yam, and cook it and eat it with our hands.

Shakira: Ewwww! Gross!

Peggy: Disgusting!

Sinsohn: I mean spoon.

Peggy: Oh, I’m sorry.

Shakira: Oh, spoon!

Sinsohn: Yes, I mean we will eat it with a spoon.

Peggy: That’s how you eat it?

Sinsohn: Yes.

Shakira: Okay, thank you.

Peggy: Goodbye, see you later.

Sinsohn: You’re welcome!

Mombo has done it again!

The most recent batch of photos are up on her picasa (to be captioned by me soon), AND she posted this little beauty from Madolenihmw Women's Day. I didn't previously know the teenage girls to whom I handed my camera, but they seemed to know how to cheer me on, nonetheless. Also, listen for random people laughing at the "lien wai" -- that means "white woman." You see, there are 7 or 8 districts in Madolenihmw ... District 2 (Pwin Keriau) was the only one with a foreigner.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tAjecdV7Cs

Also, Mom, could you put up the video from Daddy's "Celebration"? I want to show the folks at home how ridiculous song & dance runs in the family.

Much love! (And welcome to the M77s who land in Pohnpei today!)

Mollie

The 21st Century is coming at us all at once here in Section II of Madolenihmw. I've been back at site for less than a week, and I'm already practically live-blogging a town-hall-style meeting that just finished (from the internet-accessible computer in our air-conditioned school office). The meeting's purpose: To find out what the residents of Section II (the part of Madolenihmw for which Lukop Elementary School is the center) think about the current State Legislature bill that would approve the construction of a "premier casino/resort" in our community.

Here's the deal -- I found out about the meeting this morning from my host sister (typical), and I didn't even know the purpose for the meeting until I got to school (also typical; we're not too big on foreward notice). The meeting took place in my classrooms (the divider between 7th and 8th grade was removed to accommodate the number of attendees), and I perched atop the table that holds my 8th grade grammar books to watch the proceedings.

For about 3 hours, the chairman of a committee (I think it was the committee to build the casino, although no one could confirm it) fielded questions and comments from members of the community while the Nanmwarki, various local leaders, and a handful of legistators, looked on. There were several copies of the bill circulating, so I had a look. I was not particularly impressed with its contents, and by the sound of things, very few other memebers of the community were, either. Almost ever person who spoke stated their disbelief that a giant commercial enterprise aimed to increase tourism revenues -- through a 1000+ room hotel, casino, and golf course -- could do so without negatively impacting most aspects of life here (culture, environment, etc.).

I'm not sure if this juncture was more to let locals know that life will very soon change in a big way, or if it was actually a chance for policians to listen to their constituents. For me, I'm a bit torn. My instinct is against it because it embodies the destruction of one of the last vestiges of strong, Pohnpeian culture on the island. Everything I love about Lukop is tied up in its distance from the (tackier) development around Kolonia. But in assessing these feelings, I have to be realistic: I like the "quaintness" of Lukop, in part at least, because I know I'll be returning to commericalism and creature comforts in due time. Would it actually be an improvement, a step forward for this community?

Most people here don't know, but almost everyone is wary of this impact this change would have. As the time for the Compact to expire draws ever-nearer, the government has chosen an increase in tourism as the vehicle through which to bring money to Pohnpei/the FSM. However, everyone seems, in word at least, to prioritize the protection of local culture. I, for one, feel those goals are at odds with one another. I'm not sure how we're going to swing it.

In related news, I've heard they're almost finished constructing a new cell tower that would ensure reliable cell service to the community. I know it makes me a bit of a hypocrite, but that's a change I can really get behind.

I’ve been meaning to write up an update concerning my news and happenings for some time now, but am only just getting started on it as the summer draws to a close. A favored few of you have gotten an email from my mom (Happy Belated Birthday, Mama!) providing a mini-update. I hope to expand on that lovely memo here.

The biggest piece of news relates to the last couple of posts – because of my host Pahpa’s health condition, I’m moving in with a new host family.

This possibility has been a worry in the back of my mind since Pahpa’s stroke in early July. Because it happened on Majuro, Nohno and Pahpa were off-island for about a month waiting for him to heal enough to fly. During that time, my Peace Corps boss Largo and I decided to postpone making a housing decision until after their return. Well, they came home just under two weeks ago, and it was not long after welcoming them back that I realized I would be a burden to them if I were to stay in their home until the end of service. Largo agreed, and so did Nohno—after she got Pahpa home from the hospital and realized how crowded the house was.

Although it is very hard to leave them—and although the news that I would be moving out upset my Nohno at first—there is a silver lining. First, Pahpa is making good progress in his recovery, and I’m sure that will continue with the use of the house’s extra room. He still cannot sit up or move independently, but he is getting stronger and, about a week ago, he regained his ability to talk. Second, because I will be continuing to live and work in the same community, I will be able to visit the family often. Already I feel that my relationship with Nohno has improved, now that I can contribute to the family without taking anything away from them.

I had two major concerns with the possibility of moving host families. The first was that my first host family would be angry or hurt by my decision; it is a huge relief to see them taking it so well. The second concern was, well, who would take me in. I seem to have been totally lucky in this respect, too.

The search for my new family took about a week and was accomplished with such efficiency and such a lack of complications that I’m still pinching myself to make sure it’s not all a dream. The family lives in the village between my last host family and my school so that I have a much shorter commute to class (40 minute walk), but, as I mentioned, I will still be able to visit my first host family. I’ll also have more neighbors and be significantly closer to the stores and churches in “the downtown area” of my site. My new Nohno is a very warm, very big lady who is the resident local medicine practitioner. My new host Pahpa is a fisherman, and it looks like I’ll have a lot of host siblings. I know the family only a little, but they are very well liked by the community, and about 3 months ago (before this situation arose) the Nohno mentioned to me that they would have liked to host a Peace Corps. This desire seems undiminished. My principal alerted them to my situation, Largo and a couple of PCVs went by to check out the house, and everyone agrees that even though many people live there already, there is an enormous warmth and excitement about their preparations—they really want me! (I’m nervous that I’ll be displacing someone, but the family also has an extra little house that they’d be willing to renovate for me, and I would love to work with them on that so that I can help increase/improve their living space in the long run).

In describing what’s going on I probably sound quite distant from the events at hand. The simple explanation for that is that I am distant at present: I’ve been living in Kolonia for the past three weeks. My temporary digs are a currently unoccupied house that Peace Corps rents for its staff. We (the PCVs) got to live there while running a 2-week library camp at the end of July (which was great fun, btw). And for this past week I’ve been staying there while all of this was getting sorted out – the two outer island girls who are also presently “homeless” (ie: waiting for their return ships/planes to be scheduled) have been lovely roommates.

So, to sum up the summer as a whole, I would say it has been a departure from all my service before this. Whereas earlier I was far from town living cozily with a host family, the summer brought lots of temporary changes to both place and family. Between Camp GLOW, my birthday celebration (a lovely weekend that even included a barbecue at the US Embassy – Go, America!), and Library Camp, I have spent a considerable amount of time bumming around Kolonia (even though it’s not as modernized as the US, this time has served up a huge chunk of consumerism, and, consequently, taken a sizeable chunk out of my savings). Add worries about my host family/future living to the mix, and you will find a girl beside herself with newness.

But summer was a good time, too. There was plenty of time and space for PCV-bonding. The camps we helped to run were both fun and successful (an agreeable mix!), and I polished up a long-rusty hobby: ukulele! EJ sent me a new instrument for my birthday, and I’ve been having a grand time relearning to tune it and discovering chords. I have high hopes for Uke as Integration Tool as I move in with my new family tomorrow.

Another victory for being in town is the amount I’ve been able to stay connected with loved ones. I’ve been spoiled rotten with skype dates with family and friends. And I have enjoyed ­I’ve gotten lots of mail (an avalanche of birthday cards, especially … THANK YOU!). But a note on mail – from now on, please only send to PO Box 9 (the other PO Box was the personal one for my former host family).

But now I’ve just skyped with my folks and my computer is almost out of juice and time. Be well, you all! And be in touch!

Love, Mollie

Hello Everyone!

So sorry to have kept everyone in suspense for so long -- who am I, to post a scary call for prayer and then never tell you what happened next?!

Anyway, I am happy to report that Pahpa is in stable condition and looks to be on the mend. Nohno flew to Majuro to be with him a few days after the stroke. Before she lefte we had heard rumors about life support (or, in rough translation of the Pohpeian phrase for it: "the machine beating his heart for him"). But that is not the case -- his heart is fine and beating on its own. And since Nohno has been with him, he has gradually gotten stronger -- he is no longer on oxygen or using an IV. He can eat. He can communicate with Nohno, although I'm not sure if that means actual speech yet. And, even though it looks like Pahpa will be using a wheelchair for the time being, the doctors are talking about physical therapy for him to regain movement on his left side.

Although I haven't talked to Nohno myself in a few days, I have heard that they are planning to come back to Pohnpei in a couple of weeks, and that my host brother (who lives in Florida and I have not yet met) might be coming with his wife and son to stay with us and help out around the house, too.

In the mean time, a wonderful cousin of ours and her family have been staying at the house with the kids and me (that is, when I'm home and not in town for meetings, projects, etc).

There has been a lot of coming and going in my neck of the woods, and it looks like it's going to continue. So big praises that Pahpa is in a stabe state, and maybe a prayer request that I can be calm and flexible for whatever the future holds.

Much love, and thank you all for your support!

Mollie

Dear Friends,

I just found out from Nohno that Pahpa has had a stroke and is in the Majuro hospital in critical condition. The doctors say the stroke was caused by undiagnosed diabetes. Pahpa was off-island for a professional conference, and although that distance makes the news harder on us, he will likely get better medical care there than here.

Diabetes, heart disease, and cancer are incredibly prevalent and fast-growing killers in Micronesia. They're all the more tragic because they are usually preventable through diet and lifestyle changes and regular checkups. The rising statistics have been making me feel depressed and frustrated since I've been aware of them, but this development has brought those emotions to a much more raw and personal place.

Please pray for Pahpa. We're all very worried about him right now.

Thank you,

Mollie

The last day of school was exactly one month ago, and time has been flying since then. The key word of this post is “surprise” … I’m learning that wonderful things happen when I relax and just let them go.

The first notable event after the end of school was graduation. My kids graduated the morning of May 27, the Thursday following the end of school. For a month we had been rehearsing their entrance, songs, exit, and other troop movements. From all of that I thought I knew exactly what to expect. But I was wrong. Graduation day found me surprised. It was a rainy morning as everyone arrived, and I was surprised to see how well—and in coordination—all of my students had cleaned up. All the boys were channeling the Blues Brothers in white oxfords and black ties—many with fly shades and all with spanking new kicks of the sneaker variety. The girls looked radiant in white silk dresses, fancy jewelry and hair, and makeup! (a first for many of them) Our graduation was much like a wedding—it was held in a church, we had two flower girls, and there was a receiving line afterwards with all 29 graduates accepting congratulations from everyone in attendance. After the first moment of the ceremonies—except for maybe when each student accepted his/her diploma along with mwarmwars/leis and hugs from family onstage—my surprises became less enjoyable. I was surprised at how hot & stuffy it got in the church, at how many people were crowded in. I was very unfortunately surprised at how long and inanely the guest speaker’s address was, and I was hungrily surprised at how quickly and voraciously the refreshments were horded and devoured by everyone but me. (I was trying to take pictures! Silly!) But my students were radiant and all 29 of them passed the high school entrance exam and will be continuing their education. The best surprise was perhaps how honestly proud of them I felt.

The next big news after graduation was Camp GLOW, a girls’ development camp led by the female Pohnpei PCVs from June 8-11. The week between the two events was spent running around soliciting donations and following up with guest speakers and participants. The camp was free(!!!) and open to the recently graduated 8th grade girls from each of our schools. Eleven girls came from Lukop—my most surprising cancellation was from one of my girls who couldn’t go because she was recently married! Camp was held at a beach park outside of Kolonia with enough space for all of the girls to sleep, play, and listen to speakers (all local professionals) who regaled us on various points of interest. Our focus was health—particularly mental, sexual, and making healthy choices with their futures. The girls also got to do the typical camp activities like arts & crafts, swimming, and immediately bonding with their new friends from around the island. We even had a talent show in which we PCVs/camp counselors made fools of ourselves with a Camp GLOW rewrite of an ABBA song—everyone loved it. I was particularly in my element and I may have overused my megaphone privileges. At separate times all of the other PCVs mentioned to me that my calling in life might just be that of a professional camp counselor.

Since then things at site have really taken off … and completely unexpectedly, too! We started the four weeks of summer school on Tuesday (only 3 days a week), and I am confident that my co-teachers and I will find a good rhythm for planning and teaching our 1.5 hours of English for each 7th and 8th grades. But also this week I was invited to participate in my community’s women’s group – next Wednesday all the women’s groups in Madolenihmw will come together to perform dances and compete in local games like “push a tire” or “juggle noni (small fruit) & run” faster than everyone else. Although I joined initially to learn local dance styles, my group elected to dance the “bus stop” (Pohnpeian for “electric slide”) and … the Macarena! It has been fun and very silly. By contrast, I was also invited to the evening revivals held every day this week at the local Baptist church. This evening is the final potluck fellowship & service. Both opportunities have been fun, new ways to interact with my neighbors, and I believe I might actually be making lasting friendships!

Writing from a happy whirlwind—

Love,

Mollie

Pictures (from January through April) are UP!

http://picasaweb.google.com/wrightbusy4/MK3PeacefulPohnpei#

Thanks, Mom! I love you!

Mox

Greetings Readers!

I am sorry to say that it has been nearly FOUR full months since I wrote anything other than brief weather updates here. If someone were tracking my happenings through only this record, I suppose he or she could reasonably assume that I had been annihilated along with the rest of Pohnpei by some tragic, freak combination of tsunami-drought.

Evidently, this is not the case. I am alive and well. We've just finished the school year, and my eighth graders (all of whom passed the state entrance test and will be continuing on to high school!) are looking forward to their graduation ceremony next week.

Since I last wrote, many things have happened to me:

- Along with other volunteers, I weekended at Black Coral, a picnic island (small island inside the Pohnpei reef). It's a protected zone from fishing, so it was really amazing snorkeling.

- The PCVs had a bake sale over Women's Day (March 8) as a fundraiser for Camp GLOW*. Our favorite concoction was the cocoa-coconut-banana cake. Mmmm!

- We came out of the drought and now are getting our usual wealth of rain (I know you were all worried).

- The Easter Season came and went, as did a relaxing Spring Break.

- I started a Dance Club at school for all grades -- because the response was so big we split into three groups and met after school, once a week for each group. They all learned a dance of 4 8-counts that incorporates 7 or the 8 Movement Elements (I couldn't figure out how to translate "positive & negative space" into Pohnpeian).

- An auditor from the FSM national government came to Lukop School as part of an audit of the Pohnpei DOE. Among other things, I learned that I shouldn't be teaching for the length that I am without having taken the National Standard Teaching Test. The principal is working on helping me take it the next time it's offered. Maybe Peace Corps should get on that, too?

- My eighth graders won the Madolenihmw Science Fair with a presentation on the states of matter.

- The female PCVs have been in full Camp GLOW planning mode--meeting every week with our students and every other week with each other to prepare for camp. (*Not sure if I've already mentioned it, but Camp GLOW [Girls Leading Our World] is a summer camp to empower eighth grade girls as they approach the challenges of high school. Our camp this year will be four days in early June and will focus will be on how a Pohnpeian girl can lead a healthy, happy, and successful life.)

- The neighborhood youth started gathering every evening at the house next door to play volleyball and chat; when I'm not too pooped from school, I go over to watch, visit, or play cards with the kids.

- I ran a 5K put on by the FSM Olympic Committee to celebrate Women in Sports.

- On Earth Day (April 22) the wives of the US Ambassador and the Commander of the Coast Guard came to our school to read a picture book about a sea turtle and to distribute playground and school supplies to the students.

- The Spring found my students taking standardized tests -- just like in the US, except that the date of the tests were last-minute rescheduled a few times.

- In fourth quarter we started a lending library in my eighth grade class, with contributions from me (thanks for the books, Auntie Judy!) and my students. It was a test run to see how borrowing books might work for the whole school. The jury is out until I get all the books back!

- I've celebrated the numerous Constitution Days that exist here (FSM Constitution Day, Pohnpei Constitution Day, AND Madolenihmw Constitution Day are all observed holidays).

- I visited the local Baptist church and had my own "3rd service": one of the families invited me home after church to sit and visit (they actually said "fellowship") over lunch.

- I had my second In-Service Training session, in which my principal, coteachers and I learned new techniques for working as a team that we plan to implement for both summer school and the coming school year.

- I've now seen Pohnpeian weddings -- both a religious ceremony and the more traditional "local marriage" in which the groom's family visits the bride's family, gains permission over sakau, and takes the bride home with them.

- Less traditionally, I've gotten to know the dynamic community of expats and locals who live around Kolonia Town and tend to have a lot of fun gathering together in the evenings. Of particular note was Pohnpei Prom in early May--we made a high school dance playlist and rummaged for formal gowns at the Super Saver. I found and wore a child's Cinderella costume, which was very well-received.

- This past week was the only week all year that Pohnpeians can gather trochus (sea snails) from the reef. In Pohnpeian this practice is called "seisumwomw," and it's popular because the meat is delicious and the shells are worth about $1.50/lb. This is ALL my community of fisherpeople were talking about this week. My family FINALLY fixed our boat, and I got permission from the principal to go out of the water (instead of going to school) on Monday. Trochus is best caught by diving, and there weren't enough masks to go around. So Nohno ended up teaching me how to catch land crabs (pworu) instead. I was surprisingly good at it!

- Our school made it through a few bouts with technical difficulties during finals season--sick computers, broken power line attachments, etc.--to have a lovely Celebration of Learning this past Thursday (a day to present the awards for perfect attendance, good behavior, and good grades ... and also to eat LOTS of sugary food and run/dance around for a few hours).

- My host sibs have finished third grade! Nohno made a cake, Belva got an award for grades, and Iverson enjoyed a good chalk war with his buddies after the ceremony. It was a good day for all.

Overall, I think I've found it hard to update this blog because the more time I spend here the more complex and layered (and hard to relate) my experience becomes. I feel good about the work I've done in class this year, and I'm very proud of my students and the progress they've made. I have become very comfortable with my host family, and I think we understand each other better and better every day. I've made lots of friends, both locals and foreigners, both at site and in Kolonia. I'm improving very much in my spoken Pohnpeian, although I'm hoping the Lukop PTA President will tutor me in the "high," more respectful Pohnpeian that is best to use with my elders (read: everyone but little kids, pretty much).

I have a lot of ideas for the summer, both for school and community, but I now know that I need to approach change gradually for it to be successful here. My host fam also has a lot of plans for the summer -- we're aiming to build a second story on our house BEFORE Nohno leaves in early July to visit our family in Florida for a couple of months(?). Change is happening all over the place, and I'll do my best to keep you up-to-date here. No promises. Just best effort.

But most of all, I really want to express to all of you how grateful I am for your investment in my life here. Huge thanks to all of you who have been keeping in touch--sending me packages, letters, or even facebook posts/messages. Even though I haven't responded to everything, I want to express what an encouragement your support is to me. It has helped me come through some rougher moments over here. I would especially like to thank all of our friends who put up with my loving mother sticking a camera in your face with a "Say hi to Mollie!" I know from experience how awkward it is to say something heartfelt to someone many miles away with nothing but an unfeeling piece of machinery to look into. (Related note: television and screen actors are WAY more talented than I previously thought!) Seeing your faces and hearing your voices really touched me and made me feel so much closer to home. Thank you for that!

So, full of love and good intentions, I think I'll bring this post to a close. Momma, please upload those most recent photos so our friends have some new visuals to go with all of these new words.

Be well & please keep on keeping in touch!

Mollie

On Friday I had my 7th graders respond to a prompt about the weather. Many students said the drought would "break" or "destroy" the island. Some wrote about the possibility of stopping school when the water runs out. A few shared insight that the heat will be good for hatching chicks. Here are my favorites:

"El Nino is very dangerous. It can destroy our island. It can burn many trees in Pohnpei. Most cars in Pohnpei will explode."

"It can break our island. It is not good for all the people of the Earth."

"This El Nino is darkening my skin. It killed the grass."

And my personal favorite--this kids has a great sense of humor and is fairly into action movies, I'll wager.

"All people will die and no one will live. It will destroy all the islands on the earth. All the planets will break down. And the earth will explode. No one will be left over. And the Sun will win."

Maybe we should have a chat about how weather patterns work? Or maybe not.

Here's the big news: El Niño makes a drought, an earthquake in Chile makes a tsunami warning, and I'm doing fine. Don't worry!

Growing up in Southern California, I always thought of El Niño as an extremely wet and rainy event. Which this tropical storm IS for CA residents--my folks have been writing about lots of recent rainstorms. But what never hit me before is that this wet weather doesn't just appear in California. It comes from somewhere. And now I know where it comes from: Here! 

All of Micronesia is experiencing a severe drought right now. It began about a month ago, and it will likely continue through May or June. Our typically wet, frequently rainy island of lush, green plants is beginning to look a lot more like the dried-out brush of semiarid SoCal. People tend to burn their trash, so threats of wildfires will rise as more of the plants dry out. And because the water system relies on frequent rain, many homes and villages are without fresh water. My house and school still have functioning wells/tanks, but many of my neighbors who once had running water now have to collect their water for drinking, bathing, and cooking from more distant water sources. (Also, on another "don't worry" note, my family buys our drinking water in Kolonia; it will not run out.) Ideally communities will conserve, and those with plenty will help those without, but the longer the drought the more serious the problems that might arise.

This morning, the weird weather expectations got even stranger--my Program Assistant called me about a potential tsunami on its way from the enormous earthquake in Chile. Not only was I concerned for how things were going in Chile, but I was also worrying about our outer island volunteers who live only a few feet above sea level. The good news here is that the tsunami warning was just that--a warning, and no more. We got the all clear just as the wave was scheduled to hit, and it's been determined that there's now no threat to FSM.

So I hope everyone out there is doing alright, and that no more natural disasters cause panic--there have been far too many of late in my opinion. But this post is to let all those news-watching readers know that I'm okay. And thanks for your concern!

Love and sunblock (it's HOT here right now!),Mollie

In Peace Corps Micronesia, we have many people in our lives. I’ve already written a few posts describing my Pohnpeian family, coworkers, and community, with whom I spend the majority of my time. But I haven’t said much about the spread-out network of other volunteers who share my island state with me. Well, there’s 15 of us all together—10 from my swear-in class and five who are “a year older” in their Peace Corps service. And this past week I’ve had the rare opportunity to see all of them—and to appreciate more fully the wonderful and unique ways we can impact each others’ lives and services.

This week brought all of Pohnpei PCV together on Wednesday afternoon to meet the new U.S. Ambassador to FSM (he seems to be a lovely and well-informed fellow, by the by). This meeting would have been the 12 main island volunteers, exclusively, but for the fact that the first In-Service Training for us Pohnpeian M76-ers also happened this week (Thursday, Friday, and Saturday), bringing in the three outer island PCVs as well. Meaning I’ve just spent the most time in Kolonia since my Sick Bay escapade during training—to a very different effect.

Unlike my solitary sojourn in medical quarantine, IST is a time to gather, share and reflect as a group with my PC contemporaries. We focused on all aspects of life—emphasizing host family and culture issues, but also spending time talking about our work in the classroom, and, well, about the forms PC expects us to fill out (we’re pretty big on the paperwork, being a government program and all). The first day brought representatives from each host family together to talk out difficulties and successes, and then the rest of the time was just for PCVs and staff.

The time together met my expectations, which were to exchange tangible things like teaching techniques and Pohnpeian vocabulary. But more than that, the formal and informal conversations with my peers have impacted my outlook on my service and myself in a completely unexpected and glorious way. For example, I didn’t just learn “quick fix” strategies for talking through problems with my Nohno or my principal. Instead, from hearing the philosophies of the others on their PC service, I was able to more closely examine my own. I gained a whole new perspective on how I’ve been approaching all my interactions—revealing to myself more clearly how the motives, expectations, and biases I’ve been carrying into these situations have been barring my integration and growth.

The (somewhat over-the-top) analogy that comes to mind is that, before IST, my approach was like trying to take a picture of the natural beauty around my home—I’ve been looking through a narrow lens, imposing a frame, and failing to capture the whole. But now my view is expanding. I’m being offered moments of being able to put the camera down and absorb in the whole, splendid panorama. I guess it’s fitting that it’s only the vantage points of my peers that can show this view to me—they’re the ones standing next to me and seeing it, too.

Pretentious metaphors aside, today I am feeling very satisfied with my IST. I love that the buzzwords of the week were patience, balance and support. I feel encouraged and refreshed. And I have a renewed admiration for my PC people, who can be there for me in a way that no one else really can.

And in addition to challenging each other and urging ourselves on to greatness, we also know how to have a darn good time when we get together—which is another kind of balance, if you think about it. This week’s (and weekend’s) experience was so “balanced” that I’m presently sleep deprived with a wicked headache, but it was definitely worth it: I’ll be coming back to my community happy and with a renewed sense of purpose. My place in this community helps me better belong to that one.

Written Monday, January 25, 2010

Earlier this month, when I revisited one of my favorite books of all time-- Pride and Prejudice--, I was expecting a lovely, British, purely escapist reading experience. But instead, I rediscovered the truth that a great work of literature can resonate with your life anew whenever/wherever you return to it. Before your fancies get the best of you, let me just say that, no, I have not met a Pohnpeain Mr. Darcy. Rather, what has struck me about the book this time is the unexpected parallel between my present life and the community-centric lives of its characters. Madolenihmw looks like Hertfordshire; Lukop looks like Longbourn. Even though I grew up in a perfectly fine American suburb, I’m for the first time feeling what it’s like to live in the society of one’s neighbors. And this society is really wonderful! As Mrs. Bennet famously retorts against accusations of “confined” and “unvarying” conditions in the country—“I believe there are few neighbourhoods larger. I know we dine with four and twenty families.”—I too praise the richness and variety of my company. Each acquaintance made with an outgoing small child testing out her English (“Hi, Mollie!”), or a mother or grandmother of one of my students, or even just getting to bond with my students outside of class is its own small success. [This is a joyful response to the estrangement I first felt upon arrival.] Like the Bennet family, my household runs off to many engagements, both around the island and in our own neighborhood. But where they go to balls, assemblies, and card parties, we’ve had a season of very Pohnpeian funerals and birthdays (ni mehla and ni ipwidi, meaning “at the death” and “at the birth,” respectively). After the Christmas holidays—and the corresponding birthdays in my family, my own visiting of family and friends in neighboring communities, and even a “tour of the high country” to visit Ruthanne’s Salapwuk—January saw back-to-back funerals held in our neighborhood, which, as I said, can be up to 10 days of gathering. Then this past weekend, the chief of the village next door hosted the 90th birthday party of his family’s matriarch. I believe she’s a great-grandmother to my generation, but there were easily 5 generations of family and friends in attendance. The teenage Kolonia relatives, like the fashionable ladies from London, were obviously a bit less pleased with the country gathering than the rest (the term “too cool for school” fits, although it clashes with my current theme … “putting on airs” then, which Pohnpeians call “lioasoahs,” or pretentious). And although the food and socializing took precedent—like at all Pohnpeian and Austenian functions—, I did notice a few mentionable points of Pohnpeian uniqueness. For starters, I ate my lunch seated next to the bat cage—think more pet gerbil than Bruce Wayne. Subsequently, I now think bats are cute and quite personable. But everyone else says they smell. And also, as the afternoon turned into evening and those who were partaking in sakau wanted a bit more quiet, the dance party that was going on inside the house (with me, the teens, and the children observed by the mommies and grandmas) turned into a CityStep meeting, complete with “make a rainstorm” and the Museum Game (Ok, CityStep!). But, to return to my theme, the more I get to know my community (and the better I get at Pohnpeian), the more I can participate in these gatherings. I’ve noticed a marked enjoyment of gossiping amongst most circles here, and maybe one day I can have the fun of Elizabeth Bennet in her engaged, amused delight in all the wonderful quirks inherent in the personalities of all of my neighbors which such occasions bring to light. Of course, this would mean that my neighbors will be dear and familiar to me, not that I would be lambasting differentness/weakness in people I don’t care for (that’s more Mr. Bennet’s role, which he does play charmingly. Yet he does give partially good advice for Peace Corps humility: “For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn.”). The role I play now is not so astute. I’m still something more akin to Mr. Collins. Because of my newness, I’m still a bumbling, awkward interloper, of sorts. People have to speak more slowly to me, to repeat themselves, and to explain things that any sensible person would understand. However —I flatter myself—I believe am much more well-liked than Mr. C. [For those of you who got the joke in that last sentence, I salute you; let’s have tea sometime.] So all is well in this part of the world. Here’s to enjoying more good books and good company—for myself and for my dear readers! Love, Mollie PS: After finishing P&P, I started Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, which wonderful Misa sent me for Christmas [Thanks, Misa!]. And I will say that there are fewer cultural similarities between my life now and the rewrite. No undead here; the gates of hell are closed. Although, Nohno was explaining something about the belief that each Pohnpeian clan has an animal spirit/ghost spirit—like a team mascot, sort of. She can’t eat a certain kind of fish because of her clan. And people say that the rat who lives in our kitchen is actually a sign that her deceased father is always close by. Not sure how that rationale jives with the fact that she’s sworn to get rat poison in town tomorrow, but, ah, these are the mysteries of life.

Hi Folks!

While many of you had a White Christmas, I was enjoying the experience of my first Christmas and New Year’s in Pohnpei. How was it? Busy and wonderful.

First of all, school ended with finals on December 17th and 18th. Then we decorated the school on the 21st and had our “Christmas in school” celebration on the 22nd. I don’t know about you, but in the U.S. I was accustomed to maybe a small class party in the afternoon on the last day before Christmas break. But Pohnpei seems to buy into the Christmas spirit even more than the U.S.—people begin decorating at the end of November, and they literally have a week and a half to two weeks of Christmas parties. (Of our own Christmas decorations on our house, Nohno says they’re going to stay up forever!)

So this commitment to the Christmas season could not be contained to simply a half-day party. Instead, the whole school has a big day of revelry. Each class decided a month in advance how they were going to do their gift exchange and who would bring what kind of sweet treat to share. So on the day of, soda, ice cream, cookies, chips, and candy abounded. Also, the kids here don’t just buy a pencil case for the class gift exchange. People go all out, bringing in huge (and fairly pricey) Christmas packages for their classmates. After each class has an hour or so to itself, everyone comes out to celebrate on the front lawn in front of the school. A popular local band—keyboard and singers—came to perform, and we all danced for hours. I spent so much time on the sunny dance floor that when I came back inside one of my fellow teachers exclaimed: “You’re so red! You look like a crab that’s just been boiled!” Apart from my weak, overexposed skin, I really enjoyed being festive with all the students, teachers, and parents. Little kids point at me and start calling me “li en kalik” (dancing lady) on campus now. And even the local dogs got into the action—every time the dance floor cleared between songs, they nosed the grass for trampled donuts and other goodies on which to snack.

I took a breather from parties on the 23rd, but that’s mostly because I went to back-to-back-to-back birthday parties for the matriarchs and patriarchs of my families. On Christmas Eve, my pahpa’s pahpa turned 90-something. Then on Christmas my nohno’s nohno had a birthday party in Kitti, on the other side of the island. Then I went to visit my training host family in time to celebrate that nohno’s nohno’s birthday party in Temwan on the 26th. At each of these parties there was an uhm (big oven of hot rocks on which you cook pigs and dogs), baskets of food, gifts and sakau. I got to take in all the festive camaraderie, and I even got to share a bit of it with my family in the U.S.—we had a phone date in the middle of the Christmas Eve gathering; it was a fun challenge to try to relate everything I was seeing to them as they were gathered around the skyping computer in our friends’ kitchen.

Then, from the 27th through the 30th, I got to visit with some of the other PCVs around the island. I spent an afternoon being very nicely entertained by Nate and Kerry in their home near PATS, our training site. And then I trekked up the mountains to visit Ruthanne in Salapwuk, a lovely and remote community without electricity but with plenty of welcoming family—and a few other holiday gatherings to attend, except this time I got to hike over the meadows and through the jungle to get there.

I made it back to my site by the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, in time to start a 24-hour+ celebration of the turning of the years. I missed another holiday party in our community while I was away, which was quickly made up for by drinking sakau and wandering the street (singular) awaiting midnight. When midnight did strike, those who went to church came out in a candy-seeking hoard (Pohnpeian New Year’s is like American Halloween), and we all met on the street to exchange greetings and handshakes. Then the mingling and candy-eating continued pretty much all night. A few houses had music set up so that revelers could dance, but I found that most just wanted to visit with each other and laugh in the new year. I pooped out some time around 3am, but then was roused again in the morning to come to a barbecue at a neighbor’s house. It was a less formal affair than the other holiday parties—only a few families, and an oil-drum grille to cook marinated chicken, rather than an uhm to roast bigger meat. But it was still a source of delicious food and of useful Christmas gifts—mostly Tupperware and machetes. Then later in the day I had the good fortune to ring in the New Year again—celebrating in California time with my parents over the phone.

And although school started (too) soon after that, my community had an unexpected opportunity to gather again only a week later—my uncle (my father’s brother, who lives the village next to ours and who is the grandfather to a few of my students) unexpectedly passed away. I had been to his house only once before, to celebrate his 59th birthday in mid-December. (In fact, it was there that I ate dog for the first time.) He apparently had been having medical problems for a while, but I had no idea he was sick. The sedentary lifestyle and the influx of imported food have made diabetes, heart problems, and cancer very serious problems for people much younger than him, even. Although it was incredibly sad to see his immediate family mourning on the day of the burial, a Pohnpeian funeral does not end with the mourning. After the burial, a funeral will continue for several more days of feasting and sakau, full of laughter and visiting to honor the dead, much like an Irish wake. I was lucky enough to have many good conversations with community members during this time—often with parents of my students. So, while my holidays took me celebrating all around the island, the funeral gave me a unique opportunity to draw closer to my immediate community, for which I am very grateful.

While you, dear reader, are preparing to celebrate MLK and the births of presidents over the next month, I’m looking at a January and February that is holiday-free and as “business as usual” as we can get. But after the huge quantity of celebrating and feasting that happened over the past month, I’m really okay with refocusing on school and taking it easy for now.

With love from Pohnpei,

Mollie

Here are a couple of samples of student work that amused me. Thought I could pass them along to you. Both are from my 8th graders, although my 7th graders are adorable and funny, too. Maybe more so, for being younger.This first one is from an assignment to write the lyrics to a song--either their own or one they've heard--and to mark the pronouns in it (we're doing parts of speech, you see). Although the student missed the memo about pronouns, I still thought it was a lovely bit of school-related holiday cheer:My five Christmas days in school

By Sonia

On the first day of Christmas my true friend sent to me a student who likes to write songs.

On the second day of Christmas my true friend sent to me two sharp pencils, and a student who likes to write songs.

On the third day of Christmas my true friend sent to me three Christmas trees, two sharp pencils, and a student who likes to write songs.

On the fourth day of Christmas my true friend sent to me four Christmas presents, three Christmas trees, two sharp pencils, and a student who likes to write songs.

On the fifth day of Christmas my true friend sent to me five notebooks, four Christmas presents, three Christmas trees, two sharp pencils, and a student who likes to write songs.

This second one is from today's journal assignment to think of five nouns that are important to you and to write a sentence/draw a picture for each one. This student had nothing on his paper except for a lovely, detailed drawing of our classroom and this sentence:

“School is important to me because when I get to college I’ll take my refund.”(Note: All College of Micronesia students receive a refund from the government to "save for their futures." Sometimes government funding is funny.)

Hi! Just wanted to wish everyone a Happy December and comment that time is flying by here. (Like, seriously, it's December already?! I've been a PCV for a month!) I'm adjusting gradually, and I feel like I'm making good connections with my family, coworkers and students, and I'm looking forward to my first Pohnpei Christmas. There's so much more to tell, but I've lacked significant time at a computer to compose my thoughts about/descriptions of the people and places that populate my life nowadays. However, my WONDERFUL American family has decided to send me a netbook for Christmas, so be expecting a marked improvement in blog post quality in 2010.

That said, thanks for reading and Happy Holidays, Everyone!

Sorry about the blog silence over these past few pivotal weeks. Settling into life as a full-fledged Volunteer has taken much of my energy, and I had little left to tell you about it! Even now I'm only going to give you an overall sketch because I've got to get on with my lesson plans for tomorrow.

But, on the whole, the thing about making a home for myself here is that my sense of belonging is coming in very slowly even though I have to jump right into family/teaching/life. Maybe it has to be that way for me to make strong connections that won't wear out over two years?

This feeling of nowness is so very different from training because the expectations of me are preceding my adjustment (training gave me nothing but time to adjust, I felt). But here, I land with a new family and am expected to belong to them for two years before we've found any kind of rhythm for living together. I get the same feeling at my school: I'm torn between wanting to get the lay of the land and needing to hit the ground running.

And the most disorienting part of all for me is not quite knowing the people of my community. For both my town and school I feel a little lost in the welcome of a large, interconnected group of people who all know who I am but who I don't yet know. There are easily a hundred people every day who can greet me with "Hello, Mollie" (or, more popularly, "Peace Corps!"), but to me most of them are just vaguely familiar faces. The heavy work of adjusting is forming those individual relationships--those friendships--that will help light my way to familiarity with my community here.

Those kinds of friendships are slow in coming, and it's still too soon to say who my support network is here. My immediate family, my principal, my counterparts have all at least made formal commitments to help me or to work with me. And I'm happy to say that a few of the other teachers at my school and a couple of the other women in the community have been warm and welcoming. So that gives me a handful of people here who I hope one day I can call friends.

I suppose it’s obvious that the urgent need to feel settled clashes with the slowness of relationship building. It’s also probably redundant to point out that this dilemma leads to some pretty serious homesickness. But the wonderfully good news is that just as I was feeling this loneliness the worst this past Friday afternoon, I had a chance to stop by the Peace Corps office and check my locker, which was overflowing with mail from home. So thank you for writing! Thanks EJ and Annie for giving me identical sentences of news (“The Yankees won the World Series. (boo)”). Thanks Britty for the package that finally arrived. Thanks Mrs. Ottoson for the great seasonal greetings & encouragement. Thanks Ruthanne for the note stuck in my locker. And thanks Mom & Dad for never letting up with the steady stream of letters, photoessays, and encouragingly silly tidbits. You all continue to remind me why I’m out here doing this, and that I’ve already got a pretty swell support network who loves me very much.

So thanks for that! And more on the mail front, it looks like my family has its own PO Box that you can use to send me mail more directly. So feel free to send mail either to PO Box 9 or to PO Box 1773, depending on if you want me to read your letter at the PC Office or at home.

So thanks for the encouragement and the love. I’ll be sure to let you know how it’s going after I’ve had a bit time here … today was my first day of classroom teaching, after all!

Happy Thanksgiving! I am thankful for this challenge, partly because it makes me that much more thankful to have you all in my life.

Since last Friday I have officially become a PCV, I have moved in with my permanent family, and I have begun observing classes at my new school (today is my very first day!). I have so much to tell!

But I can't tell it in this blog post because I don't have any of it organized yet; I was working off the assumption that I wouldn't be online until the next time I went to the PC office in Kolonia.

Therefore, all I can say in this post is that when I arrived at school and reported for duty in the main office I was greeted by air conditioning, two computers, a functioning printer and copier, and internet access! It's dial-up and I have to use my own Telecom card, but this is NOT what I was expecting when my site was described as "remote."

Here's to rolling with it!

Mollie

Thanks to Mom-the-longsuffering, you can see photos from LAX to Deketik here:

http://picasaweb.google.com/wrightbusy4/MKInPonhpei#

-Mox

Yesterday I made a psych-up playlist on my ipod. It is an array of up-tempo songs that make me glad, both for their groovy rhythms as well as for the people they make me think of while listening. Originally made to help me wake up in the morning, I found out yesterday that it doubles as really excellent afternoon walking music. It even works as lopwolopw music (aka: pounding your laundry on a rock with a club). Thought it would be fun to share!

“The Opposite of Hallelujah” Jens Lekman – EJ!

“1901” Phoenix – thesis dance parties with Pat

“Chicago” Sufjan Stevens – reminds me of this summer’s roadtrip

“Raspberry Beret” Prince – brother, again

“Dark Side of the Moon” from Mulan – the album is identified as “Misa’s Disney Masterpiece,” so I think that one would be obvious.

“Familia (Guy Sigsworth Remix)” Mirah – Hooray, FAP!

“I Want You Back” Jackson 5 – Pops, and CityStep, equally

“Heartland” George Straight – Papi

“Friends in Low Places” & “We Shall Be Free” Garth Brooks – ditto; “Friends” has an EXCELLENT beat for lopwolopw!

“The Bitch is Back” Elton John – The next three are Mama & her eclectic wonderfulness; I miss your LPs!

“Spanish Bombs” The Clash

“Beautiful” Carole King

“Short Skirt Long Jacket” Cake – Although friends here claim Cake is all about irony, I’ll continue to listen to this one and feel unironically empowered & awesome.

“Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out” & “Rosalita” Bruuuuuuuce – Mama, although 10th Ave is also a Pat dance party song

“California Girls” Beach Boys – From Erin, but encompasses all of home & high school

“Red Sweater” Aquabats – EJ, circa 1998-99

What were accidentally left of are “Shine Shine Shine” & “Box of Rain” for Laura & Emma. (Also, “I Just Want the Girl in the Blue Dress to Keep Dancing” by Mike Doughty, which has become a recent—and likely overplayed—anthem.) Although I did turn on “Box of Rain” sometime last week and accidentally triggered a heavy rainstorm, so I’ve got to watch out. I’m more powerful than I thought!

Anyway, I love and miss you all. You’re on my mind and I hope you’re doing well!

Fun at Home

My favorite niece Vannett turned 13 last Tuesday, and over the course of the week we had a lot of weeknights where I was home with the kids/teenagers. One night I made dinner!—a can of black beans, chicken, and salsa sent by Mom from Trader Joe’s served over the omnipresent rice. It was delicious and the family liked it! The other evenings we tended just to hang out, play with my ipod, cards, or camera. There were a couple of good photo shoots which revealed both new camera settings and unusual Pohnpeian proclivities (namely, that Pohnpeian boys like to goof around by dressing in drag). [Photos to be included if the internet will agree to load them!]

Schooling the Teacher

Last Thursday we had a teaching practicum. My partner, Amanda, and I were assigned to a 7th grade class of about 40 kids. We did a lesson about parts of speech and parts of a sentence, and then had some time left at the end to play a few games. The last one we played, Amanda put the words “The Federated States of Micronesia” on the board and we had them make as many nouns as possible using the letters on the board. While I was expecting stuff like “chair” and “ears,” the kids came up with a bunch of proper nouns, many of which were names of other countries and continents. So they taught me that Africa, Asia, America, Canada, etc, were all contained within the FSM.

Lukop at First Sight

On Friday, the day after the practicum and a week before swear-in, the trainees split up to shadow one of the 5 current PCVs on Pohnpei for the morning (Erica and I went to Awak to see Kate’s school). On the way home, we spontaneously decided to stop at our sites—Saladak for Erica and Lukop for me. By the time we got to Lukop, which is a ways off the main road around the island, it was almost 2pm on a Friday afternoon. Pohnpei is not known for having full days of school on Friday, so I was incredibly surprised to arrive to classrooms full of students quietly listening to their teachers. I talked to the principal briefly, and he told me that school goes until 2:30 every day. I was over the moon!

“Block Party” Kamadupw

On Saturday I went to another kamadupw on Temwan, but this time I got to see a kinder side to the ritual. The Nanmwarki was not there, and it seemed to be a smaller gathering all together. Ruthanne and I decided that this was more of a “block party” affair, since everyone seemed more relaxed and there was significantly less to-do: people got there later, the food was already ‘individually’ packaged, and there were NO pigs to slaughter! Also, there was catchy music and dancing, and lots of sitting around with sakau. Needless to say, we all had a great time.

Coming Up This Week:

Language Proficiency Interview on Thursday

Swear-In (with a traditional dance performed by the Trainee-Volunteers) on Friday

Meet & move in with my new family immediately after Swear-In.

We got dictionaries a couple of weeks back, and they have rewarded us with some hilarious new additions to our vocabulary (see “A Pohnpeian joke” and use your imagination for the types of words you might find in a Pohnpeian-English dictionary). Here’s a favorite new word of a different variety [linguistic note: “Mw”s are pronounced like a deeper, longer “m” sound; same with “pw”s]:

mwenemwenei – to jiggle up and down like the fat on a fat person.

An explanation here is that it is considered beautiful and healthy to be “fat” (mworourou), which is anywhere from pleasantly plump to obese. So this word makes sense in the cultural context. And it’s an onomatopoeia, which I love.

I heard this one today in language class (told in English, not Pohnpeian. I’m not that good yet!) by my instructor. A necessary disclaimer: people eat dog in Pohnpei. I haven’t seen it done yet, but there are lots of dogs on the island, and it is seen as a viable source of meat.

So, the joke:

A Pohnpein man walks into a restaurant in Kolonia. He looks at the menu and sees “Hot Dog,” which makes him happy because he could really go for some dog meat for lunch. The waitress takes his order and brings out his food. He looks at this place confusedly and then up at the waitress. “Excuse me,” he says, “but we don’t eat that part of the dog here.”

I suppose now would also be a good time to mention that, aside from dog meat, Pohnpeians also love dirty jokes. :)

So that last post dealt with my experiences last weekend. Just wanted to give a brief description of how things are going presently.

This week we got a chance to have a few fun adventures. The rest of the island had only 2 or 3 days of school, breaking in the middle for a special election day and at the end for United Nations day. Although Peace Corps had a bit more class time, we still took time to enjoy life here.

Yesterday we went to a small island called Deketik (like deke tikitik, or small island) just off the eastern coast of Pohnpei, very close to our training site. We went to do more cultural and water safety training. We learned that weaving palm baskets takes patience and practice, and that lighting fires takes dry kindling and a lighter. The local way, of course. We also got a good chance to enjoy a day of sun and excellent swimming water.

That outing was great for several reasons. It was excellent to frolic with my fellow PCTs. It was fun to see my language instructors fishing while we wove our way through the mangrove roots and coral reefs of low tide. We also went right past Dolopwoil, the coastal community where I will live after swear-in (teach in Lukop, live in Dolopwoil). Both Deketik and Dolopwoil have beautiful island foliage and look out over bright, clean water. Deketik has a beautiful white sand beach; Dolopwoil, being on the main island, has a rocky and mangrove-y shore.

Right now I am two weeks away from my swear-in. That means that I have only two more weeks of official language and culture lessons, as well as only two more weeks living with my current host family (and near the 9 other M76 Pohnpei trainees). Today we are all in Kolonia for a day of running errands, and I'm about to leave Telecom to join them all for lunch. We've all gotten very comfortable with each other. November 6 will be a day of change for all of us, certainly. But the island is small and time flies, so I'm sure we'll be back together for our in-service meetings next spring before we know it.

And tonight I go to my first fundraiser. Hooray!

Where we left off things were going well – sakau had begun, and the first of two dance troupes had performed. Large quantities of food were just being brought out, presented to the Nahnmwarki, and divvied up between the high titles and everyone else. Ruthanne—a fellow PCT—and I were both presented with a small feast consisting of a mix of local and imported foods. Granted, there is no way we could get through a whole fish, a piece of chicken, a hunk of taro, yam, and watermelon along with a mound of rice, a grilled hot dog, a pack of uncooked ramen, a bag of processed snack AND a sugar-infused beverage—tackling it alone or working as a team. So we ate what we could and passed the rest along to our nohnos later.

After eating we enjoyed another dance performance. In addition to the ever-popular salsa, this group performed a creative take on the electric slide. They also didn’t seem to mind when a few ladies from the audience joined them on the stage to do their own little boogie.

Next was the sugar cane presentation. Ladies brought in stalk after stalk of sugar cane, heave-ho-ing them assembly line-style and singing all the while. This display, to me at least, proved that Micronesians really don’t need to buy any of the imported, packaged & processed sugar that they use here. But imported ease is gradually winning out over traditional labor-intensive-yet-cost-effective items here.

By this point in the kamadupw I was getting tired of sitting. A couple of hours had passed, I had been fed, and I had thoroughly enjoyed the ambience and activities thus far. Ruthanne and I were sitting about mid-nahs and we felt like getting up and moving around, checking out the other areas where people were quietly visiting and digesting. But we were prevented from doing so from the alarming appearance of the men with the pigs.

Mind you, I had been warned about pigs at kamadupws. Jenny, one of the volunteers who have been here for a year, recommended bringing a plastic bag for when you get handed a charred hunk of pig flank. But here at this kamadupw were not already-dead, cut-up and cooked pigs. No, these pigs were live pigs, about 4-6 of them, hanging upside down with their feet tied to bamboo poles. They varied in size, the smallest was about the size of a Jack Russell terrier and the largest was so enormous that it needed a support strap to hold it onto the pole. Instead of taking the pigs into the nahs like all the other presented gifts, they were laid out at the entrance—which was a partially blocked view for Ruthanne and I, but a front-row seat for our friend and mutual trainee Nate, who was sitting right on the steps at the nahs opening.

Here’s where I started to feel a little less stoked on kamadupw-ness. One of the pigs was bleeding from the head a bit already, and I sensed that things weren’t going to get better from there. Ruthanne noted that maybe I should make my face look a little less like this was the most horrifying thing I’ve ever seen, so I changed my look of foreboding into a forced smile. We both hoped that maybe the pigs would come in and go out, like the other presentations, but these hopes were in vain. The men began to slaughter the pigs right there.

Because of where I was sitting I couldn’t see the first pig get killed, but I heard it screaming (the term “bloody murder” comes to mind) and I caught a glimpse of the aftermath when they lifted it back up to take it away. The biggest pig was completely in my line of vision, but I had learned my lesson and was studiously examining the yams hanging across from me in the nahs at that point. NOTE: Yams and breadfruit are the major crops of the island, so the nahs was surrounded by a bunch of giant yams to be presented later in the kamadupw. Pohnpeian yams can grow to be very large, and I couldn’t help but notice that they, too, were tied to bamboo poles. Their large, tangled, brown root-ness with a spray of spiky green leaves on top to me were reminiscent of an army of captured trolls that would be sacrificed in the same way as the pigs before too long.

But even without looking at the swineocide, the sound of it all was enough to throw me into a bit of hysterics. For those of you who grew up near farms, I am sure you know better than I do that pigs make a lot of noise, much of it alarmingly human. I was not ready for this type of display, and I was trying hard neither to laugh out loud nor burst out crying. I noticed one of the men in the center of the nahs bemusedly watching my attempts to control my facial expressions. We men wai do funny things.

After the slaughter Ruthanne and I were in clear agreement that we needed to get out of the nahs before they started handing out the pig pieces. Her host family lives fairly close to the kamadupw, so we quickly fled there for reassurance and cribbage. Had we thought of it, we both probably could have done with a good cup of tea.

I did eventually come back to the kamadupw, and I noticed that my family had some good spoils—including a nice hunk of porker. I had heard horror stories from other volunteers of “hairy pig soup,” a popular Pohnpeian dish. So I was actually relieved to see the pig preparations for my dinner simply because my nohno cut off the skin for our pig and yam soup. As a cafeteria cook she has incredibly sanitary kitchen practices, especially by Pohnpei standards. Go Nohno!

By the evening I had gotten the shock out of my system and had begun to appreciate the rituals I had been permitted to experience that day. It’s really cool that I get to be here, and I guess it’s even fun for me to realize that in surprising ways. Soothed, I was able to enjoy my pig and yam soup and that evening’s movie selection—Babe: Pig in the City—with only a subtle laugh at the lovely irony of Pohnpeian culture.

[PART ONE ... time constraints have caused me to write this post in episodes]

In Pohnpei people get together to celebrate for all sorts of reasons; "Food, friends, and fun" is the Pohnpeian way. But there are different kinds of gatherings here -- for example, a birthday fundraiser (a raffle to raise money for a birthday person) is not the same thing as a birthday party (typically, an evening in which the extended family goes to the house of the birthday person to eat cake, ice cream, and pizza ... much like the US!). And neither of these typical Pohnpeian functions compare with the big kamadupws -- traditional celebrations held for the Nahnmwarki (the "king" or highest chief of the clan system in the municipality). Kamadupws are held in the nahs, or feast-house, of a family or community, for the benefit of the Nanmwarki and all those who attend.

Although this traditional kamadupw had been described to me and I had already seen pieces of similar celebrations over the past month, I got my first full taste of a kamadupw on Saturday (October 17, for those of you keeping track). My take on it? Well, I very much enjoyed myself and thought it was really, really great, until I got a heaping helping of culture shock and didn't love it so much. Let me explain.

Kamadupws are all-day affairs all about presenting the best of things to the Nahnmwarki and then sharing the bounty with everyone else. Every attending family brings what they have to share (crops, prepared food, etc) and it gets split up, celebratorily. More or less, the higher your title, the better your spoils. But everyone eats well that day -- there's plenty to go around, and there's always tons of leftovers to take home. For our family's contribution on Saturday, my nohno (host mom) and I baked a couple of cakes in the kitchen of the high school, where she works every weekday. It was nice to see her workplace, and to use an oven ... not a typical appliance in a Pohnpeian house.

This particular kamadupw was held in a very festive nahs and yard of my nohno's sister on Temwen island -- a community just past where I live in which most of my nohno's extended family lives. When we got there -- fashionably late at 10:30 am, the Nahnmwarki was already present at his place of honor at the center of the nahs, and people were milling about outside and sitting along the sides of the nahs. (Every nahs is built with a 3-sided, elevated floor, with an honorable stage at the front, and an open wall at the back ... like a large gazeebo with the center and one wall cut out of it.) Women and children typically sit on the sides, people of honor sit on the stage, and young men congregate at the center of the nahs, where the sakau stones are.

When we got there, the ritual of sakau pounding was just beginning. [I have videos of the process, which will illuminate this, surely ... to be added later] Sakau is part of all Pohnpeian parties, and it is consumed both freshly made and bottled. The bottled sakau is more casual and tends to be the beverage/narcotic of choice at more general hang out nights, when people come together for bingo, a fundraiser, or on a neighbor's porch or nahs. Kamadupw sakau is the most ceremonial of all -- there is a set sequence of pounding, sometimes in unison and sometimes not, packing, wringing, and presenting the fist cup to the Nahnmwarki. To a foreign eye, sakau--a plant root--starts out looking root-like, becomes like thick, muddy water from ceaseless pounding and a bit of added water, and then gets packed into a long piece of fibrous bark like a huge, wet cigarette to then be rolled and wrung out until the plasma-y liquid fills a hollow coconut from which the participants drink and get a calming buzz. This process begins the proceedings, and basically continues throughout. I bet the Nahnmwarki can hold a lot of sakau!

.

After a bit, a local group of children and teenagers presented a few dances to the Nahnmwarki. [I also have and will post videos of these] In a long row of couples in color-coordinated local skirts and typical western clothing, the dancers presented a salsa dance and a hip-swiveling pop ditty. The best part about the dancing, to me, was the age range -- all the way from near-adults down to a tiny couple in which the boy wasn't quite tall enough to twirl the girl without hitting her on the head.

After the dancing came the food. A huge mountain of food was amassed on the stage, and then taken out again on large pallets.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[I must abandon this tale in the happy middle; await the startling--but really quite understandable--conclusion for the next time I have internet!]

After regaling you with random disease stories during a time of tumultuous weather in the Pacific, I feel that a reassurance on safety is in order. Therefore, you should know that we Pohnpei trainees had a visit from the PC Safety and Security Officer for the entire Pacific region last week, and he basically told us that where we are is the SAFEST spot in the whole of the Pacific Ocean. And here's why:

**Feel free to knock on wood during the entire reading of this post! There are always anomalies, and I do not want to tempt the fates with my self-assurance.

Geographically:

- Pohnpei is NOT in the typhoon belt.

- Pohnpei is NOT on a place where tectonic plates meet.

- Pohnpei IS surrounded by a double line of defenses -- dense mangroves instead of beaches and a sturdy ring of coral pretty much circle this little-island-that-could.

- The ocean outside of that tutu of coral is VERY deep.

Therefore, any and all earthquake/tsunami that happens in the Pacific must travel a great distance to get to Pohnpei. And once it gets anywhere near this high island, my surroundings diminish it to no more than a slightly higher tide and maybe some extra rainfall.

Socially:

- The crime rate is LOW in Pohnpei, much lower for assault or other such disquieting events than other PC countries in the area.

- Pohnpei IS a clan-centered culture, and Peace Corps volunteers are de facto protected by this tradition because we become adopted into host families for the entire time we're here.

So rest assured, dear family and friends, that I landed in the safest speck on the map, and I am very happy to call it home.

Hey Team!

So, the news is that I'm "sick." This weekend I was interrupted from my regularly scheduled activities to experience a whole slew of maladies from which I had been previously protected. A strong immune system is a blessing, folks, and don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got til it's gone...

Sunday it was flu symptoms (fever to weak stomach & everything in between); I hadn't had the flu in I-don't-know-how-many years because of the flu shot. (Folks who have the option, get your flu shots! This kind of grossness is not fun.) Monday it was general malaise (no complaints here). And then on Tuesday is when it started to get interesting.

On Tuesday I started to become polka-dot Mollie. Little pink dots started to spread from my arms and legs to the rest of me -- my host nohno was sure that it was a remnant of my fever, and my host sibs repeated inquisitively, "You sure it's not mosquito?" Largo the PA says it looks like measles. Wednesday the PCMO came out and said "Viral" ... which means "Contagious! Get her away from the other trainees!"

Which is why I now write from Kolonia. On Wednesday evening I was exiled to the PC "Sick Bay"--possibly aka "PC Hotel" if the phone number key on the wall is to be believed. Everything about my temporary digs are very hotel-like: nice big-mattressed American bed & pillows, air conditioning, hot & cold running water shower & sink, mini-fridge & microwave. There would be a TV, but it's at PATS with the trainees. Other than the security bars+padlock on the outer door, which are more prison than Hilton, I feel right at home, if a little bored.

The plan is for me to wait out the pink spots. When they fade, I get to go home/rejoin the others. I don't feel sick other than that, so my days have been spent thinking of ways to waste time. I read and sleep a lot. I "cook" in the microwave and take hot showers. I should have brought a deck of cards. I have to admit I was getting quite bored. But then the PCMO said I could go into town! So here I am, looking for company on the computer (just like procrastinating thesis, eh?).

The results:

-Mail: Before I left the PC Office, I picked up letters from the Parentals and from Erin. Hooray! Those will be great company later tonight! Do expect prompt replies, since letter-writing will be an excellent use of time.

-Gmail: many of you sent me news. Thank you!

-Gchat: I got to talk to Mom and Misa and Miekes and Reed and JHsieh! Real conversations! (Well, almost real) Which means I got news from all corners of the US and from all my lovelies. All news was welcome and wonderful, but JHsieh wins for most joyfully surprising -- one of my favorite theater boys, Matt DaSilva, joined CityStep! When I heard that news it was like two pieces of my Harvard life merged and and I got a happy from a very long way away.

So, satisfied for company, I will venture into Kolonia in search of food and birthday presents for my host family -- Nohno's birthday is Oct 15, Pahpa's is Oct 16, and niece Vannett's is Oct 27.

In terms of things I haven't shared, there are tons of photos that I am sure I will figure out how to post somewhere, somehow. FUN things I've been up to are:

- A weekend in Nalap, a nearby picnic island, two weeks ago. The 10 Pohnpei volunteers had a little holiday while the other groups went off to their new homes at the end of Phase I.

- 2 weeks of language training. Things are going much better, and we're having lots of fun/learning a surprising amount of dirty words in Pohnpein. (For example, it is possible to say "intercourse" instead of "explode" if you pronounce it improperly, and the words for "God" and "bathroom" are identical but for an elongated syllable)

- Zero impact from the tsunami/earthquake that started in American Samoa. Some people have been asking, so I wanted to ensure everyone that we are quite safe here on Pohnpei.

- A sleepover at my friend Ruthanne's host house this past Friday night, during which I took my first proper island bucket shower. Am now, officially, a Pohnpeian lady.

Therefore, moving into the Sick Bay is a step back in terms of acculturation, but it is very relaxing and welcome. Let's think of it as a health vacation? I'm looking forward to getting back to full-strength immunity so that I can keep learning in and out of my training classes.

Hope life finds you all well!

Mollie

I sohte wehwehki! = I don't understand!

We started language training on Monday, and today I demanded to know this phrase. My poor, patient language instructor obliged.

Even though I've been listening to Pohnpeian for nearly four weeks now, I still get flummoxed when I need to process & answer a direct question. Mostly because I have the deep-seated desire to be perfect (in fact, while writing this sentence I inspired a debate between two of my PCT friends over "which is right? deep-seated or deep-seeded?" ... we went with the former), and the language-learning process just doesn't work that way. I have to make mistakes in order to learn. The best and most frequently used analogy for what I'm experiencing right now is that I'm pretty much a baby here in Pohnpei, linguistically, culturally, whatever. Even though I've had a few decades to learn in the U.S., I have to relearn everyday things, especially language and behavior. It can be frustrating, but it's also going to be incredibly rewarding when I finally become ... a toddler!!!

So patience is the word of the day. For me. For using the internet here (So slow! No photo uploads today!) For the people waiting for me to finish this blog post.

On that note, I must be off.

Love from Pohnpei!

Mollie

Hello All!

I've been in Madolenihmw, Pohnpei, FSM for just over a week, and things are going great! Just this morning, in fact, I found out that I will be here (in Madolenihmw) for the rest of my service! Hooray! That means that P.O. Box 9 will be my permanent address, so get on with writing those letters! They seem to be arriving from the states in about 5 days, but they're much slower going the other way. Also, my access to the internet will be spotty for the next few months, and then probably only once every other week, so letters are definitely the way to go.

In terms of how it's been so far, I've got to say that everything about this place is perfect in a way that unfolds over time--the island itself is beautiful (I can't wait to explore it more), the people are becoming better and better friends (both locals and PC), and my training is adding to my skills daily.

Some highlights of the experience so far:

- Daily morning workouts in the training room before school starts with friends (yoga and boot camp exercises are the favorites)

- Visiting a local waterfall & Nan Madol (cool military ruins) with PC Trainees and my host nieces/nephews this past weekend

- Dance parties to Chris Brown's "Forever" in my host family's living room with my nieces and their friends

- My host mother (nono) ... she's the best

and last but not least

- The view from our front porch every morning & evening

Hope everything is going well with you all. Send me letters and tell me about it!

Lots of love,

Mollie