10:49 AM Comment4 Comments

One year down in my Peace Corps experience and somehow I'm back at the beginning again. Since I left in July, I've said hello to my new community in Ulithi and goodbye to my old home in Woleai. Both experiences were positive yet challenging in their own ways, and it's been interesting to transition from one island home to another.

I fell in love with my new island community on Federai from the get-go. It's a very long, skinny island with open, friendly people. Long beaches line the shore and the water is invisibly clear. I'm staying with William and Andresa, two very kind and amiable people. We live right by the school and I'm staying in the coziest little local hut that was built by a previous PCV and my host brother, Frankie (who looks like a professional heavy weight boxer).


My local hut on Federai - home sweet home!


Inside my hut at night :-)

I have found the language to be more difficult that I anticipated, but fortunately I can get by speaking English and listening to Ulithian. This made me realize what a gift a common language is because it allows room for me to really express myself and show my personality. I feel like I'm known for who I am on Federai, and this feeling is very grounding and helps energize me for the rest of my service.

Another great part of feeling energized is my daily routine of running to the end of the island in the evening and then jumping into the ocean with my 9 year old friend Nick during the sunset. It's times like these when the phrase "island paradise" floats across the brain for some reason :-)


Sunset on Federai


A weird thing happens in Federai. At night, the mosquitoes go away. That means they run rampant from sunrise to sunset, but when the moon comes out, we on Federai are blessed with cool, buzz-free night air.


The apple tree we sit under at night to talk story

My favorite way of enjoying this phenomenon is to sit out with my host mother and father by the glow of our solar powered light. During these talk-story sessions, I get to share about who I am and the places I come from. We love to laugh and joke about funny stories, foods, customs. One of my favorite times was when I told my host mother when I owned a motorcycle. She was saying she couldn't picture me on one, and I said it wasn't like I was wearing a lavalava :-)

Speaking of lavalavas, I have successfully completed my first full lavalava, winding and weaving it from scratch, so to say :-) It was fun to sit in the women's house with Alyssa "cheating" as she coached me in English, then to laugh and joke with my host mom as she taught me to weave on the "pop," or loom, in my house. It's far from perfect, but as it was my "learning lavalava" intended for my Grannie, I think it's just swell. Besides, I remember learning about how certain Native American tribes purposefully incorporated flaws into their crafts so as to not offend the gods by feigning perfection. Let's just say no gods were offended during the making of this lavalava. I look forward to much more weaving in the future.


Host mom Andresa and friend Joanna helping set up my first lavalava!

At the end of August, I hopped on the state ship out to Woleai. It was a great summer time adventure upon the waves shared with Gita and two other PCVs who took the ship all the way to Satawal and back. It was difficult yet good to have time to say goodbye to Falalius.


My final boat ride from Falalius with all my stuff and yes, that is a pig :-)


My final farewell to maweshe Ashley on Falalius

There were many reasons for me to stay, and many reasons for me to go. One of the saddest parts was discovering that, I'm sad to report, Tiny the Turtle passed away. She was well-loved in her short life, an unforgetable Christmas gift and a delightful island companion. All in all, I'm very thankful for my time spent in Woleai.

Coming back to Federai I found myself in the throws of teaching full-time, a plight I blame on my genes (thanks four generations of teaching behind me!). On the first day of school we had a Back To School Party. I was just sitting on the side, minding my own business, when all of a sudden I noticed all of the students huddled together secretively and staring at me. Then they attacked me - with floral maremares, that is! Each student had made me a lei to welcome me to the school and the community. I could feel the weight of their welcome as my head towered and teetered with the most beautiful tropical flowers. I'm very blessed to be part of this community!


Being buried by maremares - one from each student!

Three cheers for my island life partner Alyssa and all the other M75 PCVs in Yap! Alyssa is officially done with her time in Federai and while I'm sad to see her go, I'm happy and excited for her future adventures and all of her "first impressions" to come. My two weeks back on Yap have been delightful and donzerly in every way. I'm healthy, happy, and excited for the future. I will come back to Yap in December before heading to Pohnpei for Mid-Service Training (MST). After MST, my travel plans look a little something like this:
Portland, Maine Dec. 19-22
Colorado Dec. 22-Jan 4
Bolivia Jan. 4-12 Then back to Yap!

In recent, exciting news, I'm getting scuba certified! I started at the beginning of the week and it's been an amazing experience that I'm so thankful for. I'll never forget my first open water dives and being brought into a whole new world :-)

That's all the time I have now for this little update. Please be in touch and let me know how you are and what adventures you are having. Mail is come and go in Federai, but I will do my best to keep in touch.

And lastly, a very special Happy Birthday today to Andrew!!

Be well! Whee! emily

8:24 AM Comment0 Comments

A fellow traveler and friend once told me, "If you wait till the last minute, it'll only take a minute!" I'm keeping this in mind as I write this update.

As it stands, I've been back on Yap Proper since the last weeks of May - almost two months. And in those two months, I've had three days of training.

In the meanwhile, a significant change came about when the Peace Corps told the three of us Volunteers in Woleai that, due to the shabby state of the runway and a rescinded emergency contract with the local plane, we are no longer able to serve in our sites.

At the time there was some hope that the runway situation would miraculously improve, but it has become evident that the solution lies in part of the problem; no ship has been able to go out to Woleai in order to deliver the materials or workers for the improvements. As it seems to me, this is an instance of stunted potential as far as sustaining and improving life in the outer islands of Yap. There is funding, there is community and government support, and there is want, need, and drive. But there is a missing infrastructure upon which to hinge the existing systems that would address this transportation problem. From what I've seen and heard, the runway will indeed be patched up and improved soon, just not soon enough for us to remain at our sites. It seems as though we were only one ship away from being allowed to stay, and that's difficult to deal with. If only...If only the state ship hadn't been indefinitely delayed, then we'd be able to fix the runway and Porter, Gita, and I could stay in our sites. If only...

And so here I am, in the last several minutes (read: days) before I leave on Friday for my new site - Federai, Ulithi. (Said: Fed-er-eye, You-lith-ee)

Logistically speaking, I shall be taking a plane to Falalop, Ulithi and then catching a boat across the lagoon to Federai. I'll meet my new host family and community while settling into my new digs. Then, whenever the state ship is finally fit to leave, I'll hop on it from Federai out to Woleai. In the time it takes for the ship to loop around the eastern outer islands, I'll have to say goodbye to my host family, community, digs, and turtle on Falalius. Then back on the ship to be deposited again at my new site. Now let me tell you a little more about Federai.

On Federai, I will continue to be teaching in the local school, which is about the same size as my school on Falalius. The condition of the school is much less dilapidated, and there is a beautiful library already in place. At least initially, I'll be living with William, the principal, and his wife, Andresa, whom I'm told is a "shooabuuto chille," or small woman. Ulithian, the local language, is similar to Woleaian but a different dialect, and in general I should be able to also communicate more in English if I need.

Federai has power (usually) as well as (occasional) cell phone access. Across the lagoon on Falalop there is also internet (at times). There are (up to) two planes a week to Ulithi that deliver supplies, as well as mail to the local post office.

Speaking of mail...I will technically have a new address, but I can still get mail from the PC PO Box. The important thing is to note my change of site in the address so my mail doesn't get sent to Woleai - i.e. Emily, Federai instead of Emily, Falalius. (All in all, there's not much need for us to worry about this as I've spoken to the lovely women at the local PO and they know the low down to help sort things out.) So here are my two viable addresses should you ever have the inkling to write - pick whichever suits your fancy:

Emily Hurianek, Peace Corps Volunteer
Ulithi Post Office
Federai Island
Yap, FM 96943

Emily Hurianek, PCV Federai
PO Box 190
Colonia, Yap FM 96943

I feel almost as though the Fellowship of the Ring of Woleaian Islands has begun to break. Gita left Friday night for her new site on Fais (a rocky outer island in Yap past Ulithi), and Porter is sorting out how to get to his new site (Hoak Island) in the state of Chuuk. It will be very difficult to envision a future PC experience without my two companions in it. To help ease the transition is the fact that Alyssa, Federai's current PCV, will be finishing up her service sometime this fall and so we'll have some overlap. I met Alyssa on Federai in April on a stop-over to Woleai, plus we've gotten to know each other much better while she was here for a few weeks before her COS (Close of Service Conference). She's a firecracker (literally - she made her 'debut' on the 4th of July) from Wisconsin and a fellow explorer and weaver. I'm glad to have her as a friend at the beginning of this new adventure.

And now is the part of the blog post where I begin to list and ramble randomly with no sense of cohesion...much like the messages I leave on voicemails, actually. Anyway...

Speaking of voicemails (nice transition, huh? :-P)...I will still have my satellite phone that I will be checking daily and can receive mini-messages that way. I cannot, however, use the satphone to respond. Which is why I'm very excited that I also have a local cell phone. Signal and phone-card permitting, I will be able to actually communicate WITH you!

As far as where this new adventure will take me, I can't be sure. But I am optimistic, hopeful, and excited. I am hoping to take a resource trip back to Yap sometime this fall. Next along the path is Mid-Service Training, which will take place on Pohnpei in December (very likely during my birthday, actually). AND THEN! Oh, I'm so excited, my WONDERFUL parents have concocted the most fantastic travel itinerary for me. In one fell swoop, I will go from the tropics to mid-winter Maine, then dip down to Bolivia for a visit with my kindred spirit Katie, and finally fly back up to Colorado for Christmas and New Year's with the family. Let's just say there are twinkly lights on my horizon, and I love it.

As always, thank you for your love and support. This continues to be a dynamic adventure for me on many levels and I am blessed by the experiences I've had and the people I've met. I'm happy to share my adventure with you and would love to hear about yours. Thank you.

1:11 PM Comment0 Comments

Let’s go Marty McFly. If you were to step in the Delorean and time travel back to the last few weeks in May, you would have found me in the final days of my first school year at Falalius Community School, caught up in the throws of graduation preparations. I would be practicing about ten local dances to perform with my students on the big day and brainstorming my speech (in Woleaian) to my four graduating 8th graders. If you asked me, I would have told you that I'd be arriving in Yap for In-Service Training II around the beginning of June and no, I have never seen a Cheeze-It on my island, thank you very much.

Oh, how little did I (do I ever?) know!? My last scheduled day of class was Friday, May 21st and on Thursday, May 20, I was all set to collect my students' final projects and not at all worried about calculating grades - after all, I'd have plenty of time before I would be leaving to schlog through grades. I was confident in this conviction because, if anywhere, it is on a tiny island in the middle of a big ocean that you should literally be able to see your means of transportation coming for miles.

Nope.

Not only was I blindsided with the news that I'd be leaving in less than a day on a patrol boat with none other than the President of the FSM, but this news was fantastically preceded by an honest-to-goodness boat-load of Cheeze-Its arriving on my island!

In one mad dash, I managed to finish my grades, pack, and ant-proof my mountains of food with enough time to catch the high school graduation on Falalop Friday morning. President Mani Mori’s address to the graduating seniors? “Don’t get married and be humble. Oh, and your island may be 60 ft. under water soon. Congratulations!”

Leaving Woleai on the 01 Patrol Boat was every second an adventure. Taking a little inflatable raft up to the boat, Porter was instructed to climb the ladder while Gita and I, the only females taking the trip, were hoisted aboard – whee! Then, within minutes, we were given mail – always a delightful treat – as we sailed passed the back side of Falalius. A number of my students were there waving us farewell with giant banana and coconut leaves. From a distance they reminded me of Tiny and her flippers flapping away to bid us farewell. The ship honked its horn and we were out to sea.

Now, normally going out to sea from Woleai entails many days of bland open ocean and crackers. This adventure, however, was marked by receiving fresh fruit and cold Fantas on the way to the W.C., pork and coconut crab for dinner, eggs and toast for breakfast. In the evening we chatted with President Mori about life in Woleai and climate change. We slept in cozy bunks in an air-conditioned room (thanks to our school area supervisor, Stan, essentially our boss, for insisting we kick him out!). On the quiet deck Porter and I spotted any number of creatures and beasts in the clouds as we had a soul-heartening conversation in the morning. Gita and I reverted to seventh grade girls as we giggled our way through New Moon in the afternoon. All the while, I shamelessly made friends with all the crew members so as to secure rides in the future – “hey, if you’re ever in this neck of the ocean again…” Yap appeared on the horizon and as wonderful as each moment was on the ship, it was made even better for how short the voyage was! We arrived Saturday evening, in little more than a single day's time. Needless to say, I loved every second of this adventure!

Being back on Yap, it's always delightful to spend time with the other PCVs and my host family here. My brothers are all doing well - they have finished their school year and Jimmy (aka Cobrino – I’m Cobrina) graduated from Yap SDA High School - we are all very proud of him. Summer time with my host family includes watching MANY movies, taking walks at dusk with Gita, and a little something I like to call Night Court, wherein I am the judge, the twins are attorneys, and any number of defendants, plaintiffs, and witnesses are on hand. In the last case we tried, Lin was charging his friend Nathan with the murder of his dog. Riveting.

The weekend before training began, the three of us Woleai Volunteers caught wind of a rumor about the Peace Corps closing our sites in Woleai. The new Program and Training Officer flew in from Pohnpei to meet with us and over pizza that Wednesday she dealt the blow. On account of recent developments, or rather deteriorations, in the “safety and security situation” in Woleai, we will not be allowed to return permanently to our sites barring a miracle. Basically, PMA, the airline that had a contractual agreement with the Peace Corps, has since rescinded their agreement in writing and can no longer guarantee to fly to Woleai of emergency on account of the state of the runway.

I now have one of the worst track records with the Peace Corps. Twice the Peace Corps has come to me saying it’s time to go back to Woleai and I said, in effect, “Well, what if I stay?” Now that I want to go back, wouldn’t you know it, the Peace Corps is saying to me, “nope, now you stay.” This has been a very challenging and dynamic change of circumstances. It’s difficult for me to wrap my brain around this decision and even harder for me to grapple with what my role in this whole situation is. I did not join the Peace Corps to be told that the answers to a key problem facing my community are out of my hands and not to push. “Emily, you’re not an engineer, let it go.” (Well, I’m not a teacher either, but here I am.)

Moving on.

So when it comes down to it, Porter, Gita and I have been cleared to return to Woleai to finish out the summer. We’re planning on leaving on the next ship, which has just been bumped back from the 18th to the end of June. We’ll have time to spend in our communities and try to bring about some sense of closure, however conflicted it may be. Then we shall pack up and leave Woleai on the next ship (August-ish). Our futures after that point are still around the bend, but the Peace Corps has allowed us to explore many options for ourselves. Right now I am exploring a couple possible placements both within the Ulithi Atoll and on Yap Proper.

At present, I am waiting to hear back from PC Pohnpei and very much in limbo as to my future as a PCV. Well, it is what it is and what will be will be good.

And with that in mind, thank you for all the support and goodness that I receive from you. I’ll be in touch soon, and in the meantime, drop me a line and let me know how you are – what is your life like and what goodness lies around the bend in your path?

5:24 PM Comment4 Comments

Some pictures from the last few months in Woleai...

Tiny!


Not so tiny any more!


She still likes to eat out of my hand, but she's getting too big to ride on my shoulder...so sad when your turtles grow up.


Where I go to watch the sunset.


There are many different kinds of sunsets...


Some are dynamic and awe-inspiring...


Some are purple and pink :-)...


Some are yellow...


Others are simply magnificent manifestations of light...


And some look rather like rubber duckies :-)


School Picnic (no, he's not a student...that's Santus)


School Picnic


Reunion with Gita in Woleai


High School Graduation


Sow-how in his first thu!


BIG FOOT...literally. Infection (cellulitus) - VERY unpleasant!! All better now.


Host mother and littlest brother (Yap) - gotta love 'em!

4:37 PM Comment0 Comments

(Written mid-April...)

I have been back on Falalus for just over a week now but time seems to expand here, so it has felt much longer (maybe it’s because being on the ship for a week seems to suck up time!). Plus, things are going well. One of the biggest differences for me here so far (other than not being miserable with a resident parasite in my gut) is that I’m following my dear, wise friend Barbara’s advice to be an ‘observer,’ which she said means letting go of the outcome. To me this means simply being present (which is made ever so much easier on an island where there really isn’t much choice!). It also means not letting what might/could/should/may/can be to crush or stifle what is.

And so I’m trying to let go. I’m trying to let go of the outcomes of this whole ‘Peace Corps Experience.’ I’m especially trying to let go of the outcomes of these next 2-3 months before the next training. Shoot, I’m even trying to let go of how my island cooking concoctions turn out! (To date, the tahini-less hummus was fabulous, the corn meal mush was satisfactory, and the polenta scrumptious.)

Of course, the task of letting go might be made much easier with some divine stroke of clarity or omniscience as to how the present will unfold and expand into the future. But then again, there’s something to be said for the Bend in the Road and all that lies beyond. Leaves plenty scope for the imagination, as my dear friend Anne Shirley would say. Besides, I’m finding that sometimes consciously letting go can be easier than unconsciously holding on. Some eggs can crack themselves if we let them ;-P

Each evening at sunset I have been heading to the ‘end of the island’ to ‘checkii yaai phone,’ or check my new satellite phone for messages (which works wonderfully so far! THANK YOU to everyone who has sent me messages so far, it really does make me feel connected and I’m sending you positive energy back!). Faalimaase, the name of where I go, is on the western side of the island. Everyone else thinks it’s haunted, so I pretty much get it to myself, which is a rare occurrence on this highly communal island. Being alone and in such an idyllic setting, I am able to have a daily check-in – with my friends/family via satphone, with my body via yoga, and with my heart via meditation. As I arose from a savassana the other day, I simply had to laugh at how surreal it is to find myself where I am! It’s moments like these that help me sink into the present.

Speaking of sinking, the island might be sinking – the beach is much steeper and narrower than before – or it might just be seasonal. Whatever the case, it makes it easier for me to run in the morning while it’s still dark (I have to run then when no one can see me) because there’s now a clear path at the top of the beach. (Special thanks to Uncle Tim for the great headlamp that a.) stays in place and b.) has great range so I don’t end up running into a coconut tree )

In my time on Yap I received a flabbergasting outpouring of support and supplies, and I can never be grateful enough! I have food galore, teaching resources, books, candles, yarn, you name it! I even have three choices of water filtration systems to choose from to help me stay healthy (plus lots of traditional and modern remedies). The water filter I’m using now is just about the coolest thing ever – it’s called the SteriPen (and comes from Blue Hill, Maine of all places!). It’s basically a UV light wand that I use to stir the water for about a minute and it takes care of all the germies! Neato!

My language skills continue to improve bit by bit, and the kids are learning English bit by bit. For instance, some of the kids now say ‘hi,’ which is something I had to teach them (there’s no greeting in this language other than “buutogo mwongoo,” or “come eat”). Anyway, it may seem small, but it’s good for my soul. I need to be careful, though, because I today I somehow found myself in the thick of an all-out discussion of all the English swear words my 7th and 8th graders know (and I may have unintentionally taught them some, I’m not gonna lie). Here’s how it went down. I began the class with a warm-up activity explaining the important difference between the letters P and B (thanks to PCV Mike for the example). Take, for instance, the following sentences – “I eat crab” and “I eat crap.” One letter makes a big difference in what you say, but most of the kids have trouble pronouncing the difference. In order for this example to really hit home, however, the kids needed to know what ‘crap’ meant…which led to a discussion of how “poop” was the good way to say it, “crap” was in the middle of the field, and “sh*t” was at the bottom of the ladder. This little discussion snowballed and soon I found myself throwing out all propriety and cultural norms in a full-steam-ahead discussion of “kepate ngawe,” or bad words. We covered everything from expletives and derogative terms for women to racial slurs and sexuality. Oy vey! I did my best to maintain a thread of integrity and pushed the importance of understanding and comprehending the words you use so as to not hurt people intentionally or unintentionally. One of the best/most awkward parts was that my principal/co-teacher walked into the classroom late in the heat of the discussion. He looked at the board, I sputtered out some explanation/apology, saying that maybe this wasn’t the best lesson for us to team-teach, and he left before even sitting down! It was one of those classic moments and I hope my students appreciated it as much as I did :-)

And with that yarn, it’s time I wrapped this update up. Thank you, as ever, for your love and support.

Whee! Emily

PS – Tiny is ever so much bigger than I expected, but she still likes to ride on my shoulder :-) She sends her love, too!

4:43 PM Comment0 Comments


Hi, this is Emily's Mom letting you know that, after a five day boat trip and a day's visit with Porter and Gita, Emily made it back to Falalus (on April 8.) She spent at least two days unpacking and wants to thank everybody for the amazing gifts and communication and support you gave her. Special thanks to those who have already emailed her SAT phone. Emily can't use her phone to respond (we'll have to wait for her letters) but she loves hearing from you.


3:20 PM Comment3 Comments

Just a quick note to say that I'm off again to Woleai, healthy, hearty, and happy. Talk to you all in 2-3 months! WHEE, emily

9:01 AM Comment0 Comments

This blog post goes out to my wonderful parents, whose support is ample and just so darn well timed. We are in the midst of Tropical Depression 02-W, soon to be upgraded to a tropical storm, and to boot, I have a nasty head cold. (Which seems to be the trend, actually - the two times I've been sick on Yap we've had tropical storms, so I'll take the blame. Sorry, Yap). Anywho, wouldn't you know it, with it storming outside and me feeling like my head's in a cloud, I got a package from the folks yesterday with chocolate, soup, and movies. As my friend Laura said, it's like they knew! ('Cause they do, 'cause they're great like that and I love 'em.)

In other news, I've been thoroughly enjoying my time here on Yap as it's coming to a close. The ship is announced to set sail on April 2nd (mind you, transportation dates in Yap are never set in stone...even stone money...haha, bad joke...I'll blame it on the sinuses interfering w/ the normal pathways of wit and genius in my brilliant brain...except not quite). So I've got a couple of more weeks to prepare myself for heading back out to Falalus and reuniting w/ my baby turtle, students, and community. It'll be good.

Aside from the present head cold (darn my Wellness Formula being on Falalus!), I'm very happy to report that I feel hearty, healthy, and happy. This time I've had here on Yap has been a blessing in many ways that just keep unfolding. As always, I am ever grateful for your support and friendship.

Gai sa gashigeshige gemaase, remaweshe!
Cobrina LeHasugulmal
aka emily :-)


PS - a huge and hearty congratulations to Lo and her St. Patty's Day Baby! Yay!

11:53 AM Comment0 Comments

*Habele. I have received many requests from friends and family on how they can support my work as a teacher here in the Outer Islands of Yap. Check out these websites for Habele, an organization striving to provide Outer Island students with educational opportunities.
http://www.habele.org/
http://habele.blogspot.com/2009/04/outer-island-micronesian-students-hard.html (this has a good summary of their work)
http://habele.blogspot.com/


*Tsunami. Yap Day 2010 Celebrations were on March 1st and 2nd. The day before, us PCVs received a warning that a tsunami was going to try to crash the party, which is the biggest cultural to-do here on the island (lots of local foods, dance, and dress). But what with all the prayers and support from family and friends heading our way, I guess the tsunami realized that it really wasn't on the guest list. Thank you for your concern and support.

*Potholes.
Driving to work in America, day in day out, one comes to know the road traversed with its few rough patches and occasional potholes. Here in Yap, one comes to know the occasional smooth parts of the road otherwise bedecked by the ubiquitous expanses of potholes.

*Public Transportation.
Here in Yap, you don't get stuck behind school buses. They get stuck behind you, speeding and veering into the other lane to pass in a very un-Micronesian hurry. (I'm glad I don't have to take the bus.)

*Chef Boyardee.
When I first came to Yap, I was worried about my diet suffering from my "favorite canned meat." Now, I love Chef Boyardee and it's enriched noodles. Let's just say I've been flexible and come a long way from my vegetarianism and Royal River Natural Foods. Damn, I had it good.

*Nature vs. Nissan. When I was in America, I used to feel exposed to the elements when driving through heavy rain in a car (even in my trusty Buick Buelah who never steered me wrong). Now, I feel more 'battened down,' so to say, in a car than most anywhere else (esp. my host father's Nissan company truck). Most life is conducted outside here, and even the inside feels outside in many regards. Ants, slat windows, humidity. It's just interesting to consider how much our modern 'amenities,' like cars and windows, separate us from the natural world. Here, whether we like it or not, the natural world is going to have its way, so we have things that crawl, unsealed windows, and fuzzy layers of mold on things. But we also know our food comes from the land we work and the sun rises and sets over the water that defines our island life. That's not something we want to keep out. Ants? Maybe. But feeling connected to the natural world? Nope.

*Peanuts. My host brother Lindsey was reading a story problem from his math book about a girl eating peanuts at a baseball game. I started to tell him how cool it was to eat peanuts at a baseball game 'cause you can throw the shells on the ground. I caught myself, though, because I realized that what was novel or cool about this to me is just run of the mill for Lindsey. We throw food on the ground all the time here. Our 'kitchen' and 'dining room' are outside under a tin 'beranta' and the ground is our floor. Our trash compactors and vacuums are covered in fur and have four legs. Lindsey wanted me to finish what I was saying, so I struggled to explain that in America, where we cook and eat are inside, so we don't go around throwing or spitting fishbones on the floor. Weird.


In other, much less pleasant news, I made the discovery this weekend that I have intestinal worm(s). It's nothing serious and I am experiencing no symptoms, but I'm still taking the necessary medicine and going to get some bloodwork done to be sure.

In other, much MORE pleasant news, fellow Yapese PCVs Laura, Kanani, and I had a thoroughly delightful belated birthday celebration for Laura this weekend where nothing seemed to work out the way we planned and it was all for the better.

I'm not sure when the next ship will leave, but I am very happy to be here now.

Gareteli gai sa gashigeshige gemaase (really, thank you all so very much) for your support and love.

Sa ila, remaweshe (bye bye, my dears) - Emily LeGasugulmal :-D


PS - THANK YOU so much for all the wonderful care packages. At this point, I have enough yummy and delectable supplies to last me for quite some time. So I'd like to respectfully alter my request for care packages to the simple gift of correspondence. Again, thanks everyone SO MUCH. (Of course, little things here and there will always be appreciated, but I've got a happy collection of goodies already. I can always use notes and letters connecting me to you - they never go bad and the rats don't eat them :-D! Peace and love, emily)

5:23 PM Comment0 Comments

As you can see from this post, I did not get on the plane on Monday. The plane, however, did leave with both Porter and Gita safely aboard. As for me, I simply was not ready.

But I want to go back. I wasn’t ready when the plane took off, but I was close. The startling change of schedule took the rug out from under me. It was a very hard decision not to get on that plane (the hardest I’ve ever made, actually). It could have been a cop out, an excuse not to go back to Woleai, in which case I should have felt relief. But instead of being relieved, it broke my heart to not get on the plane.

Which is why I asked for the chance to return to Woleai. And it never hurts to ask. I now have both the support of Regina, our fabulous friend and PA, and Kevin, the PC Country Director, to return to Woleai on the next ship. The next ship may be a month away (as is intended), or it may be more. It’s a gamble, but I have some cards to play.

My experience in Falalus has been extremely challenging, but like a runner nursing a sprain, I just need time to heal and regain my strength. In a way, Peace Corps Volunteers are like marathon runners. We’re in it for the long run and will face lots of struggles along the way. Whether it’s 26 miles or 26 months, if we don’t take the time to mend and regain our strength, our minor (and major) sprains will only lead to painful breaks that will bench us in the long run. In less than a week, I felt like I was on the mend and then suddenly told that the big race was moved to tomorrow. But I have started the race and I’ve worked hard for the miles I’ve logged. It’s exhausted me, bruised me, sprained me, but not broken me. I want to finish this race, which is why I am grateful for the chance to return to Woleai and the time now to prepare.

So now I am looking forward to my time here as a resource trip. I can use this ‘one stitch in time’ now to start working on a number projects that will enhance my work on Falalus. I plan on gathering the resources, contacts, and materials that I simply cannot while at site in Woleai. I'll be talking to the Dept. of Ed, the EPA, the Dept. of Health, and the Yap Women's Association, just to name a few. If you have any TESOL resources, send them my way. There is also a great need for a library on Woleai, so I will use my time in Yap to research and gather resources.

One of the best resources available to me here is contact with YOU - my family and friends. So I am elated to have the time to communicate with you over the next unknown expanse of time. I especially want to thank you for your infinite support that has given me strength and fed my heart. I most especially need to thank my friend Babs, whose providentially-timed email reminded me to listen to my deep heart and to always give myself options.

There is the expression that when God closes a door, He opens another (...or a window, or a box of Girl Scout cookies, based on who you ask). As for me, when the plane door closed on Monday, my heart was opened and glad to be at the center of my life.

Oh, and don't worry, my turtle-sitter's contract is open-ended :-)

5:26 PM Comment1 Comments

There has been a sudden change of plans and I am leaving this Monday. Training has been bumped up due to the ship leaving today. No, I am not going on the ship...yet. In an unexpected turn of events, we Woleaians will catch a plan on Monday out to Fais (an outer island) where we will meet this ship and then head out to Woleai (over 2-3 days).

I'm not sure if I am ready to head back out, but my stuff is on the ship and training has commnenced. I am very bummed not to have more time to communicate with more people, but I am hoping to be a more intentional letter writer in my time on island. I should be in again around the end of May/June. So soon and so far away at the same time.

A HUGE thank you for all the support I've received while being here. I received TEN (!!!) packages from family and friends yesterday, just in time to open them, be in awe at how generous and wonderful you all are, and then pack them up to go on the ship. As far as future packages and mail, it all depends on when the ship goes out. I have received PLENTY to tie me over for some time, so please don't feel the need to go over board. Honestly, I'm stunned at your generosity. Thank you.

I'm still a bit shell shocked by the whole sudden change in plans, so forgive me in my reeling state if I am forgetting something major. But rest assured that I will think of you often and keep you in my heart over the next few months, in all its ebbs and flows.

Wish me peace and luck!
emily

12:27 PM Comment0 Comments




































PS - check out the new links to other PC blogs to see things from another perspective!

5:10 PM Comment2 Comments

This might be a strange quote with which to begin my post regarding my first stint as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Falalus, Woleai, but in many ways it speaks to the truth. When I think about where to possibly begin sharing my reality over the last few months, I am at a loss. My experience has been a mixed bag in so many ways – from good to challenging to downright hard – and it has all taken place in a context as far removed from anything I have ever known that it seems it can’t be real.

One place to begin is the setting which, to be frank, is as beautiful as any sort of tropical island fantasy you can imagine. The water is warm, clear, and multifaceted in its blues and greens. Now place against this setting Christmas and New Year’s celebrations. I have spent a couple of holidays away from my family in Colorado, which left me feeling removed (and thankfully included by a great community of friends in Maine), but being on Falalus this Christmas left me feeling like I was in an entirely separate universe. Where is the snow? The twinkly lights? Mountains and Christmas trees? And yet, to answer many of your questions, yes, we do celebrate Christmas in Falalus. The preparations and celebrations spanned multiple days, including a “midnight” service at 2 am. The most beautiful aspect of it all to me was the fact that no one was left out. – everyone gave and got. Starting on the 19th, the community came together at the church to distribute gifts to certain populations, the students, the youth, adults, etc, in a Secret Santa fashion. Most gifts were handmade, mostly food (I popped a few giant pots of popcorn and gave some to each family compound - there are 12 in all - as my gift). Even though my name wasn’t officially on Santa’s list, each gift-giving day I left with tons of generous gifts. And now here’s the part that I still can’t get over. Amongst the coconut crab, taro with coconut milk, rice, and other edible goodies, I got one of the best gifts I think I may ever receive for Christmas – a baby sea turtle.




Her name is Tiny and she lives in an old buoy outside my house (although I just bought a gloriously big plastic tub for her and I can’t wait to show Tiny her new digs!). Everyone in the community now likes to inquire after ‘laai woongi,’ my baby turtle, asking if she’s big yet (I always reply, 'teiti farigiti’, or not yet). She and I bonded right away. I take her to the beach to shower with me every day. After she darts around for exercise a bit, she’ll climb on my arm to rest. She especially loves to sit on my shoulder as we bob together on the waves. It’s just about the most surreal reality ever. On New Year’s Day, I got up to feed Tiny, but she was missing. We looked all around for her and wouldn’t you know it? When we looked up from searching and there was Tiny, just strolling down the road like she just needed to stretch her fins. Fortunately she’s taking to stretching her fast-growing fins in water. When I left Woleai, I asked all of my students to turtle sit for me and make sure that everything is alright while I’m gone.

New Year’s was quite an experience on island, let me tell you. It is the one time of the year when the shoabuuto, or women, are allowed to drink (whereas the mwaale (men) drink every night of everyday – it’s like clockwork). I can vouch that the women make up for their whole year of drinking in one go. We sat on mats by the beach as the men took turns donating faluuba (fermented coconut nectar) and yeast (just what it sounds like – yeast fermented for a few hours in warm water. Safe? Not quite). I joined them as they drank and sang songs at the top of their lungs from afternoon till evening. It was interesting seeing the women, who work so hard each day of their lives, getting to take a break and enjoy themselves thoroughly singing song after song from generations past together. As for me, I appreciated having the opportunity to share this experience while also watching the full moon rise over the lagoon.

I’m sure you’re all wondering (like everyone else here) if I went hog wild and got bulaase (drunk) with the rest of the women, but the honest answer is no, I did not. You see, around Christmas I began experiencing stomach troubles that plagued for about a very unpleasant month. The pattern seemed to be: Monday mornings, wake up at 5 am to go running on the beach (the only time I can go running is when it’s dark and everyone is asleep); Tuesdays, repeat; then, promptly become stricken with incessant diarrhea and be miserable until Friday, at which point I’d take an “immobility agent” that would stop me up over the weekend and make me feel like it’d be a good idea to go running again on Monday. Thus the cycle continued until I realized I shouldn’t bother running. Instead I self diagnosed and took the prescription amoebacide the PC provides to all outer island volunteers. After week four of this, I felt like I would never get better – I could have sworn I’d always be curled up as one pathetic, burpy ball. My guess is that I got a parasite or amoeba that took to living in my gut and let me tell you, it was not pleasant. I spent much of January curled up with no energy or appetite under my mosquito net trying with all my might to be okay with eating five-times reheated bulage (taro). Fortunately the drugs seem to have evicted whatever was squatting in my lower digestive system and I discovered BBQ for the bulage. Praise the lord and cross your fingers!




What with the digestive maladies, the emotional vulnerability that comes with a weak body, missing the holidays with my family, and general feelings of 'why on earth did I get myself into this?' I have to say I am very glad to be here on Yap for some respite and rejuvination. In no particular order, I'm delighting like nobody's business in my host family, the food, and being able to be in touch with friends and family. Here''s a reflection on leaving Falalus for the first time...



I've taken to doing Yoga and watching the sunset at 'the end of the island,' but shhhh, don't tell anyone on Falalus (they'd really get to talking about the strange things their PC does...). One evening I was watching the sunset and not actually expecting much out of it by way of few clouds in the sky. But soon I was surprised to discover that there was a whole layer of clouds between me and the moon that I didn't realize was there. The sun had spotted it before me and decided to paint what I couldn't even see with the shades of fire. I walked back from the beach thinking about the sunset - how sometimes you need something to change in order to see something that's there the whole time. That's how I felt coming into Yap. My experience living and teaching on Falalus has been quite challenging and even in my short two and a half months there (granted, it didn't feel short at the time), I've wondered about "what's there," so to speak. How can this experience transform like the sunset? I needed something to change - to leave and come to Yap for training - in order to see some layers of my experience that I didn't realize were there. When I left, the entire community haulted their daily activities to throw me an impromptu farewell shindig and make sure I was coming back. Let's just say the sunset was beautiful that night and I'm getting ready to return.



With all that I am, thank you for supporting me on this adventure. The main thing I have realized over the past few months is that this experience is an adventure of the heart and its challenges. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

3:07 PM Comment2 Comments

Hello friends! I am back in Yap after my first couple of months on Falalus, my new island home. I have many stories and other fun things to share about my experiences that will be forthcoming. Be on the lookout for new on Xmas/New Year's festivities and my pet sea turtle :-)!!

For the time being, I am simply writing to let you know that I am back in the realm of communication for the next few weeks (at least three-ish, if not longer). So now's the time to shoot me an email letting me know how you are and what's going on in your life. I'd love letters as well, time permitting. I am going to make several calls via Skype. Be on the lookout for an international call from your favorite topless islander :-P

The most urgent reason for this post, however, is an earnest request for care packages. Before I headed out, I was loaded with a bevy of booty that has served me wonderfully over the last few months (without which I may have lost all my sanity). As it turns out, the supplementary items from home gave me not only dietary support, but also spiritual and emotional support (literally, it's been soul food). So thank you, all of you.

The best way I can ask you to support me on this adventure is to keep sending care packages. I should be able to get whatever is sent in the next week or so before I head out. Plus, I will be able to receive them whenever a ship comes my way from Yap, which is around every 3-4 months. And the best way for you to send them is with USPS flate rate boxes. There is simply not much variety, nutrition, or frankly flavor in my local diet, so I can assure you that anything and everything will (and has been) appreciated. The easiest things are dehydrated or 'just add water' goodies and prepackaged foods. If a whole care package isn't feasible, letters from home feed my soul in just the same way. Here is a broad list of possible items from home that will make me jump for joy in my lavalava...but of course, please give as you like (I love seeing each of you in your different choices!):

  • Dehydrated fruits or veggies, preferably without sugar
  • Just Add H2O Creations (like Zatarran's, Rice-a-roni, soups, etc.)
  • Mac and cheese!!!
  • Instant mashed potatoes
  • Fantastic Foods brand goodies
  • Hummus mix (esp. Fantastic foods brand)
  • Snack bars (Kashi, Cliff, Lara, Nature's Path, etc.)
  • Fruit leather
  • Crackers, esp. Chedder Bunnies
  • Anything cheesy :-)
  • Pancake mixes, or mixes I can make dumplings with
  • Instant oatmeal
  • Corn meal
  • Small bags of flour
  • Agave nectar
  • Cereal (Kix, bran flakes, Lucky Charms, Peanut Butter Bumpers, anything really...I can eat it with homemade coconut milk!)
  • Bouillon
  • BBQ sauce (great on taro and dried ramen)
  • FLAVOR - seasoning packets, spices to add to dried beans, driend onions, garlic, etc.
  • Spirutein Packets (any yummy flavors) or other powdered healthy mixes to add to water
  • Tea (Good Earth, Chai, Constant Comment, Earl Grey, decaff is good)
  • Chocolate goodies and/or cookies
  • Candy
  • Tetra packed milk (shelf stable milk)
  • Snack mixes
  • Nuts
  • Surpise me

Non-food items include:

  • Books you think I might like
  • Fun yarn (despite the heat, people here love hats)
  • Fun pictures/posters/maps I can use in the classroom
  • Music you think might keep my spirits up (CDs work)
  • Any fun videos or movies you can get on a CD
  • Ideas for fun class activities/games
  • Whatever you want to send me!

This is a much bigger list than I thought it would be and please, do not feel obligated to follow it (or to send anything at all). There are lots of kinds of support, and I am thankful for your support in whatever form it comes.

2:03 PM Comment2 Comments



A very (and probably very belated) Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all from Falalus, Woleai!! I’ve been in island since November 21 and it’s been nothing but new adventures (and some challenges) since. I’m very grateful for this unexpected opportunity to share it all with you!

I was very fortunate - the ship came the day before my birthday, bringing with it the best birthday present I could have asked for – letters from friends and family (I was so filled with joy I wept – more on that later). The ship, it turns out, makes two stops in Woleai each trip – one on its way to the other outer islands and one on its way back to Yap. Which is how I’m able to send this update to my parents who have posted it for me! But enough with logistics – it’s time to get down to the adventure that is my life on Falalus…

The best place to begin is the beginning, so I’ll tell you about my adventures on the
Voyager, the ship on which I spent five days (!)getting to my island. Now, we’re talking about a whole heap of people with even bigger heaps of stuff all on a moderately sized cargo ship. There were a few cabins on the ship, but most were r
eserved for the medical personal that were going island to island administering the H1N1 vaccine. So we did what most people did – found a space on deck and camped out. Gita, Porter, and I loaded our own heaps of stuff on the front platform and set sail for our journey. The ship practically jumped and skipped over the waves as it took us to our islands, and I am ever so thankful that I do not get seasick. We met some amazing people on the ship from all the different outer islands of Yap, plus we got to visit a number of them. We stopped at Mo
gmog where our fellow volunteer Catherine is serving, Fais to meet PCV Joseph, and Falalop, Ulithi, to check in with PCV James at his new site.

My biggest adventure on the ship happened on my way back from visiting James. The Voyager was anchored offshore and we were returning in a little boat as the sun was setting (think beautiful tropical sunset and you’d be right). As our boat approached the ship, I grabbed onto to the ladder suspended off the side. But as I did so, the boat started drifting away! I couldn’t let go of the ladder, and I couldn’t get back in the boat! Gita tried to help out by grabbing onto my legs, so for a few seconds I was bridged over the water, suspended horizontally off the side of the ship! She couldn’t hold on as the boat kept drifting away, but thank goodness I had a good grip. I ended up just hanging there, calm as a clam, half in and half out of the water for everyone to see! Some of the crew scrambled to pull me up and I was already laughing that I had such a crazy adventure and lived to tell the tale!



The rest of the ship ride was much less eventful. The Voyager arrived in Woleai at night in the rain, so the next morning when I arose, I had the most propitious first view of my island. There was a complete rainbow encircling the lagoon, right next to Falalus! (My island is back there, just to the right of my head…this is what it looks like from Falalop, the main island across the lagoon)

And, now, my life on Falalus.....






When I arrived on my island I was greeted by the whole community and covered with beautiful, fragrant mwaremwares and leis. But instead of going to my intended host family, I went to a different family. It turns out the community made the decision that I should live with another family because of the incorrect belief someone put forth that “kids are against Peace Corps policy.” That is very untrue and it is unfortunate that I wasn’t able to live with my intended family, but there was nothing I could do to fight the decision. That is how I found myself living at Niuroore (sp?), my new home. My host father, Steve, is a very large man and he’s the one person in the family who speaks English. Magdalena, his wife, is a very attentive and doting host mother. We have fun finding ways to communicate without a common language (yet). Their daughter, Priscilla (29), reminds me ever so much of a waitress in a late night café the way she fixes her bangs in a bouffant and jokes with me as she gets food for me or helps me with other simple tasks. We’re becoming friends quickly. She has a 10 year old daughter named Molly (who reminds me of a tomboy from the Bronx) and Seowiiling, a happy, giggly 5 mo. old. There is also Magdalena’s mother, Dolores.

There is a large local house where the family sleeps, a small hut next to it for weaving, guests, etc.,
and then our outdoor cooking/dining area. We eat on woven coconut mats on the coral gravel or sit on busted pots, logs, coconuts, or crates. As for me, I’m living in the old ‘stoowa,’ a tin and plywood building that used to be Steve’s store. It is actually a great set up. I have a plywood ‘bed,’ a piece of plywood and local mat on a platform, where I read and write by lamplight under my mosquito net (it’s cozy, I love it). There is plenty of shelving and even a display window I can prop up and feel like I’m open for business (the main thing I really want someone to buy is my roommates, the rats). My house is right next to the ‘road’ (think path) and is only 20 or so yards from the beach.

Just down my path, right next to the beach, the community built me an outhouse for my own, particular use. It’s a bottom-less oil barrel with wooden seat, surrounded by tin sides and a tin roof. The men had it up my second day on island, minus the door. I was so pleasantly shocked that they had done this that I assured them there was no rush. I was planning on going ‘local’ the whole time, so what’s a few more days? And so I did go local, using only the beach/ocean, first for one week, then another, and another. Now let me tell you a little about my personal thoughts on going local in this regard. For one thing, I find it inconvenient having to change my lavalava every time nature called (turns out you leave yesterday’s lavalava on the line for today’s bathroom use, but it still requires you to go home and change). For another, it’s a very public affair – on the small island there is always someone on the beach, usually some small kid who doesn’t want to leave me alone – and I’m shy in this regard. And finally, I’ll be brief. I find it quite unpleasant to be in the toilet bowl, so to say. It is also an unhappy thing to have to constantly be on my guard not to step in any number of piles of poo whenever I walk on the beach. Pleasant. Post-digestively, this is not quite paradise. And keep in mind, this is my own personal stance. Others might love it, but it’s not for me. I’m quite happy to now have a door on my ‘kelaisiisi.’





Falalus, in so many ways, looks just like what you would expect a small, remote tropical island in the Pacific to look like. There are local houses made out of woven coconut leaves. The sand is white and the sea is usually clear and ever-changing in its displays of blues, greens, and sparkles. The few ‘roads’ are paths that connect one family’s houses to another’s. There is plentiful shade on account of all the kinds of trees – coconut, breadfruit, plumeria, pandanus. When it rains, it’s heavy tropical rain. Local canoes line the beach. The men use them to go fishing when they’re not busy cutting tuba. The women spend their days weaving – lavalavas, mats, fans, bags – and preparing food – iige (fish), bulage (taro), yaroung (coconut milk), and mai (breadfruit). Everything here is done by hand and you can tell it’s the way it’s been done for generations. The kids are learning the ways from their mothers and grandmothers, just as they learned from the generations before them. Young boys are at home in 30 ft. tall coconut trees and everyone can cut a hair off a fly’s back with a machete by the time they’re six! The kids here are very capable – starting fires, opening coconuts, climbing trees, weaving. In many regards, I’m at the cultural level of an infant here.

The women wear lavalavas and the men wear thus. Most of the little kids either run around naked (washewashe) or wrapped in whatever fabric is available – usually extra thu fabric or tea cloths, which I love. Some of the little girls still wear the traditional grass skirt. Thu fabric is basic cotton, but it I love the colors – vibrant solid blue, green, orange, purple, and yellow. There are some tropical/floral prints, too, so all in all it’s a very colorful wardrobe

As for me, I’m enjoying wearing a lavalava, though it does take quite a lot of practice to a.) keep it from falling off or showing too much and b.) be able to move comfortably in it. My whole body moves differently in a lavalava and I am still getting used to it (plus there’s no public outlet for exercise…I’m going to weave a yoga mat so I can practice in private). Let’s just say lavalavas were not invented with maximum feminine mobility in mind. It is a good thing they are adjustable, however, because my host family jokes that I have the be the size of my giant platform bed, or roughly the size of my voluminous host father, by the time I leave.

As for being topless, it’s not uncomfortable. I actually find myself wearing a shirt or piece of fabric more often than not on account of the mosquitoes. So I do not have to live through the stereotypical ‘nightmare’ of being naked in front of the class – I wear a shirt when I teach. Each morning it still seems strange to go outside my house without a shirt – I get that “I feel like I’m forgetting something” feeling, then I remember where I am. Surprisingly, the thing that makes me feel the most exposed isn’t being topless, it’s toutou-ing in public.

‘Tou-tou’ means shower in Woleaian and it’s done in two stages, twice a day. First, there’s the toutouli taati, or ocean shower. This basically means going to the beach twice a day to hang out and play with the kids. After this phase, I walk back to the house where I toutouli shaaliu, or shower with fresh water (every few days I use soap – most people use tica, or coconut oil). The water we use comes from the giant catchment barrels by my house which, like I mentioned, is right by the path. So as I’m showering people usually stroll by. It’s going to take me a while to get used to talking to my students while I shower, or kepate me yaai sariiskuulo ileete gaangiu I be toutouli shaaliu.

Bit by bit I’m picking up more of the language. I have lots of mini-celebrations when I say something and people understand more or less what I’m trying to communicate. Plus, the more I know the more I can joke around and get to know the people here. Of course, there have been many comical linguistic mishaps, like in Yap the first time I ate turtle. I meant to say, ‘yes, I ate turtle,’ or ‘ngoa, I sa mwongoo woongi.’ But instead of ‘woongi,’ I said ‘waangi,’ which is a man’s hoo-haa. Everyone got a hoot out of what I accidentally said. While I was visiting Gita, I learned to be very careful when I say ‘correct’ – pashe. Not pashiu, which means horny. Of course, you don’t really say the last vowel of any word, so it’s a very slippery slope for a newbie.

It’s been harder for me to learn more practical local skills, like cooking and using the machete, because of how busy I am with teaching and how people here ‘teach’ by doing. It’s more work for someone to take the time to walk me through something than to do it themselves, so I have to be persistent yet respectful in asking to learn something (aka everything!). So far I have learned how to start a coconut husk fire, wrap mare, weave a basket, and make coconut milk, a very intensive process. First, you have to gerigeri shooa, meaning grate the coconut. I really like this part. You use a little saw-horsey deal with a scraper on the end. Once you have the grated coconut, you have to wongiwongi, or milk, it by hand – add water, knead, squeeze handful by handful, add more water, knead, squeeze handful by handful. It’s very methodical and I like how ‘zen’ it is when you get lost in the routine…unless your hands get tired or your legs fall asleep. I’m actually having to actively combat bad posture here. It’s hard to sit up straight when there are no chairs and you have to sit in a lavalava, let me tell you! Send a lower-back prayer my way.

The main thing I spend most of my time trying to learn here is how to teach, which I enjoy but find challenging. I have four generations of teaching behind me, so I’m not too worried about it, but I still spend a lot of the time not really knowing what I’m doing. Fortunately this is a great place to figure it out. The school has three classrooms, there are three other academic teachers, and there are about 33 students. All good things come in threes, right? Oh, and I’m teaching three classes – English Writing Gr. 5/6, EL Writing Gr. 7/8, and EL Reading Gr. 7/8. As you can see, the classes are combined, which poses a challenge in itself. I have 11 kids in each class and they’re great, but it’s hard b/c they are very low-level English speakers. The kids are hanging in there, though. For example, the very first thing I decided to teach the reading class was a poem (I could write it on the board, which seemed like a good idea given limited resources). But the one poem snowballed into a whole unit on poetry, including literal vs. figurative language, alliteration, personification, and metaphor! I started these poor kids off with the hardest thing in the English language! But we survived, including me, and now we’re working on one of my personal favorites, Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs.

I wish I had time to tell you about the kiddos one by one, but alas, I don’t have the time or the battery power to do it. So instead, just look at some of my pictures. I know when you see them you’ll understand how wonderful they are and how much I like them. Most of these pictures are from a rainy day of volleyball this week.

If you have any teaching resources, ideas, or guidance, I’d love to have it. I’m teaching all my kids at about a grade three level in America. The hardest parts are teaching to multiple levels in one class and measuring comprehension. A lot of the kids can copy a model but not necessarily do what they’re learning on their own. Plus, they’re all ‘ma,’ or shy to speak English in the classroom. On the volleyball court, it’s a different story – they love using any English they know to taunt the other kids! It’d be easier in the classroom if I was actually co-teaching, which is the Peace Corps model, but that’s not happening. So for now I have to remind myself to speak very slowly and keep it fun and interesting for the kids.

Now here are some snippets of my life on Falalus...

- Flies. Everywhere. Almost all the time. The flies are so bad that I’m afraid with each bite that I’m going to eat one. The worst part is how they flock to the smallest of open wounds, which kids here can’t help but have given the conditions. Even personally, the smallest thing like an ingrown hair attracts flies and gets infected. I’m hoping that soon my body will acclimate to the conditions.

- Mwaale tugofai. It means ‘old man’ in Woleaian. It’s what my family calls oatmeal b/c they saw the Quaker man but don’t think they can say ‘oatmeal.’

- Booty shakin’ and soul singing. The kids here are preparing for the Christmas ceremony and I’ve got to learn some of their dances. Let me tell you – these kids can shake it! In a culture so physically open with their bodies, there are no reservations in movement. Let’s just say hips are central to dance here. And these kids can sing! What would you do without video games or tv? You might learn to love songs as much as these kids here and develop a beautiful set of pipes

- Culture classes. At the school there are also two ‘culture’ teachers. They teach local skills, like building a house for the boys and weaving for the girls, as well as ways of life, like respect and communal living. I think it’s neat.

- 'Going out.’ In America when you lose a round in a game, you ‘go out.’ Here, if you lose a game you have to stand up and dance a silly dance to a song they all sing. It’s hilarious and I love it.

- Maweshe. I can’t actually translate this word, but I can tell you it’s a kind of term of endearment. I like to think it means more or less ‘dear’ or ‘my dear.’ But to the point. It’s everywhere. Everyone calls all the kids, regardless of if they’re their own, mauweshe. I get mauweshed all over the place. I call my students mauweshe. It’s just about the sweetest thing ever.

- These families have tall trees. There are four generations of women at my house, which is a wonderful and interesting thing to observe. For example, they all have the same nose, and they all think that throwing rocks at someone is an effective way of dealing with someone (everyone throws rocks here…it’s ubiquitous)

- Names. Most people here have wonderful English names, like Dolores, Priscilla, Heffner, MaccDonald, but they usually go by their island name. For example, MaccDonald goes my ‘Moonkey’! When I was in Yap, my host mother and father gave me a local last name that some people call me here – LeHasugumal.

- Coconuts, coconuts, coconuts! I drink one for every meal, plus the community knows I love yaroung, or coconut milk, with just about anything. But coconuts are used for EVERYTHING here – firewood/charcoal, cups, alcoholic and sweet tuba, rope, oil, seats (just pop a squat on a coconut!), mats, roofs, walls, floors, bags, fans, brooms, you name it!



- Pigs tied to trees by the beach. They move around and make little ‘crop circles’ to claim their space. If in any life you’re born a pig, you’d want to be a pig here on the beach!

- Faalimaase – ‘the end of the island.’ It’s probably the most beautiful place on the island, and that’s saying something. It’s where I have permission to go check my sat phone every day. It’s also where I can see the sunset and say hello to Mark, one of the sweetest old men on the island.

- Family. The whole lagoon is related somehow, which means everyone is welcome anywhere, anytime. Everyone shouts to anyone passing by to come eat. Food is prepared at one house and distributed all over. When the men go fishing, they share the catch with all the family. The best way to describe how this all feels is flow –there’s a comfortable flow of people everywhere on the island. This is a family as much as it is a community.

- Set-up. The beach faces north-ish and looks out onto the ring of happy islands in the lagoon. The rest of the island is surrounded by rocks.
- Chick, chick, chickens! There are maliuge, or chickens, everywhere. I have learned to sleep through the roosters’ crows, so I guess I wouldn’t make a very good farmer.

- STARS! That’s all I have to say about that


- Climate. It’s rainy season here and boy, can it rain cats and dogs! Between the rain and all the trees on island, it’s actually comfortable most of the time (as long as you’re not directly in the sun).

- The ‘Dentist.’ A man came on the ship to check the kids’ teeth. He set up shop in the office and for two days in the afternoon he asked if any teeth hurt. If no, he applied fluoride. If yes, he pulled. He pulled tooth after tooth as I lesson planned. Yikes!

- Everyone shows affection for each other by pulling lice out of each other’s hair. Things have gotten especially bad lately and a number of people are running around with fully or partially shaven heads. Today as one woman had her head shaved, I tried to communicate that I once opted for that ‘do…don’t know if it translated.

- Island sounds. There are kissing lizards, crickets chirping, frigate squawks, chicken clucks, dog barks, guitars playing, kids singing, rats crawling, waves rolling, and people hawking.


I celebrated my 25th birthday in total LOCAL style, let me tell you! There I was, sitting topless in a lavalavaon a woven mat, chewing betel nut, and drinking a coconut. Soon I was practically buried with floral marmars and leis, covered with turmeric, and painted with lipstick on my lips, cheeks, and eyebrows! Now, “all dolled up with no place to go?” you might ask. Not quite. All the students sang to me then we spent the day playing volleyball on the beach. The perfect birthday on a tropical island, if you ask me.

Falalus is bigger than I expected but further away the islands than I thought. Still, Gita and Porter visited our second weekend here and I got to show off my new digs. Last week, I returned their visit and caught a ride to Falalop in all the funeral hubbub (the ship also brought the body of a local man. Here, most everybody is related somehow anyways, so funerals involve the whole community). It was such a heartening visit for me for so many reasons. We celebrated a belated, dehydrated Thanksgiving feast courtesy of my wonderful family (THANK YOU!). When we talked about what we are thankful for, we all agreed we are thankful for my family thankful for the roots that support me through this experience, both old (like you) and new (like Gita and Porter). We listened to Christmas songs as we rehydrated everything in 5 minutes. It was fabulous.

The next day at the funeral, as I sat observing the rituals, someone handed me a package addressed to the Woleai PCVs – MAIL!! The wonderful Miss Laura put our mail on the ship and it made it to us – the day before my birthday, no less! It was the best birthday present I could have asked for. The letters from my friends and family were like no treasure I’d ever received and made me realize how disconnected I really do feel at times. But they also made me realize how many happy surprises the universe has in store. For example, my dear friend Courtney sent me a t-shirt from the third annual Yarmouth Pumpkin Run, an event we did together last year. She doubted if I’d ever actually need the shirt, but she sent it because of the spirit of it all. And let me tell you, it comforts my body and my soul! Wearing it practically takes me to crisp fall leaves and cold weather (and yes, some nights it’s temperate for me to wear it). There are many comforts from home that I miss and this brought many of them to me. The main other comfort I miss is quick communication – if only there was email on this island! I also have a list of forbidden thoughts that I try to stop myself from having, like:



- Nachos and other forms of Mexican food

- Portland’s Farmer’s Market

- Coldstone Creamery, or any ice cream, really

- Couches

- Garlic

- Private showers

- Harry Potter

- Snow

- NPR

- Cooking in my kitchen at 68 Winter St.


This, of course, is a list of material things, but the thing I miss most is each of you. If I’m lucky, the ship will come semi-frequently so we can stay in touch via mail. I was able to get a lot of letters out on the ship, but there are still many more I want to write. If you don’t get a letter this round, know that one is on its way sometime…maybe not soon, but sometime. As always, I am filled with gratitude to be on such a wonderful adventure and to be able to share it with you. With all my heart, thank you for support and thank you for coming along with me – whee!