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.
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.
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…
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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.....
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!
My ship, The Voyager, is set to depart this evening at 6 pm. It will take me to Woleai over the course of four or five days (Falalus is the island in the bottom left corner). I am excited for the journey to my new home. It may sound like a long time to be on a crowded ship in an expanse of blue (and I'm sure it's going to feel like it, too), but right now I'm looking forward to the voyage as a transition into my new experience. I imagine myself floating "away from the things of man," as they say in the movie Joe vs. the Volcano. But then again, I'm exciting to be floating towards the people - my new family and community. It is sad to have to leave my host family here on Yap - they've been a wonderful family and I'm going to miss them. I've been busy making hats so they won't forget me - my legacy is a crocheted one :0)!
Well, I need to be off to do some last minute packing, make some final phone calls, and hopefully get a letter or two in the mail while I still have access to a post office.
Thank you everyone for your tremendous support. It's because of you that I have the strength and excitement to get on a boat and begin this big adventure out in Woleai. It's called 'ubuntu' - I am because you are. It will be some time before we're able to connect via conventional means, but think of me now and then, as I'll do you, and we'll connect often.
In a spirit of ubuntu and gratitude,
emily
Friday night was the swearing-in ceremony for us Micro76s, as my group is affectionately known. It marked the transition from lowly trainee to mighty and powerful volunteer. Well, maybe not quite that big of a change, but still, when Elizabeth, our Program and Training Officer, announced that I was now a Peace Corps Volunteer, I felt a thrill. The ceremony was beautiful. The seven of us new PCVs in Yap all 'went local,' as its called, and we were stunning. I had brilliantly colored, fragrant, and skillfully-made mwaremwares, or leis - two on my head and three around my neck. Each different language group - Yap, Ulithi, and Woleai - presented traditional songs and dances. Singing is NOT my forte, but I was happy to be sharing our song with my host family. It's called "Three Birds," which we wrote in English and then had translated and set to a Woleaian tune. Our song says that we are three birds from far away nests, and it talks about our journey - how we're learning to sing new songs and build new nests here. I may have been offkey, but my sentiment was right on when we sang our thank yous to everyone who has helped us here. 
Tino, our langauge teacher, Porter, Me, and Gita singing our song!
Now I have a few free days to prepare and relax before the ship comes to take us out to Woleai. Rumor has it that it's supposed to arrive tomorrow and leave either the 16th or the 18th. It's vague and likely to change, as most plans here are. For instance, our ceremony on Friday was supposed to be at 1 pm at YFTI, then 2:30 at the Youth Center, then 7 pm at Oasis, and then 7 at the park, and finally 7 at O'Keefes. Let's just say that, if you make a plan, make sure you pencil it in and have a good, flexible eraser :-)
I'm all packed up and I am stoked to be so prepared. I have TONS of yummy food to supplement my diet for at least three months, my guess is longer. It's a nice feeling to be prepared, and an even nicer feeling to know that I'm getting on my way. I've been on two islands now for two months, but I have yet to see my new home for the next two years.
I've been finding it difficult to be present in the here and the now since I've been constantly preparing for Woleai, but there are moments that just smack me in the face and make me pay attention to and appreciate life. Last night, for instance, I found myself driving home from my brothers' semifinal basketball game in the back of a pickup truck, mouth agape and eyes glued to the stars. Never, in all my life, have I ever seen such stars. I hope you sometime have the chance to find yourself on a tiny island in the middle of the ocean at night. There are also countless moments with my host brothers, where they just smack me in the face with how amazing or funny or quirky or insightful they are. I am really excited to be a part of this family for the next two years (any time I come back to Yap Proper, they're my family). I've been busy busy crocheting hats for them as thank you presents - thanks Grannie for the yarn, it's perfect! I've finished 6 hats so far and have about 6 more to make. I just can't wait to put down the crochet hook and pick up the scuttle when I learn to weave lavalavas. Just think, in three or four months you'll be getting updates about all the fun mishaps of me learning island skills!
Here's a brief review of what I know about the future...After I depart for Woleai, I will not be back to Yap until the end of Feb/beginning of March for what we call IST - In Service Training. This first year, I'll be in about every three or four months (depending on the ship or plane) for IST or 'resource trips.' That means I won't have internet access for three-four months at a time. Mail will get to me whenever there's a ship/plane that comes out. Each week, I'll have a SSB chat with Regina, the PA, to make sure everything is going well (there's a satellite phone and epirb for emergencies). I'll try to use these chats to get news to my good friend Laura back on Yap, who will then communicate with my mom, who may then post to let everyone know I'm alright. But in case this doesn't happen or isn't possible, just assume no news is good news. Of course, I'll do my best to write to each of you, and I'd love letters in return! Basically we'll have to see what things are like and then go with it. But what's new?
Okay, and now it's finally time to show you a little bit of what life here is like (one of the great perks of being an official volunteer is use of the office computer!). So here goes, starting with the most recent first!
Me and my host family before the ceremony - these women made these gorgeous mwaremwares!
Me, Divine, and Lindsey on Halloween
The "Local Boys" on Halloween - My twin bros Rodney and Riley and friend Lawrence
Halloween in Maap - fending off evil spirits :-)
View from Maap, Yap (Halloween)
Gita and Porter, my Woleai-mates, on Water Safety Day
Water Safety Training on Halloween
Sunset at my house
Sunset on the lagoon that the Yap Canoe Festival
Jaden (4), Lindsey (12), and Divine/Duck (8), some of my host brothers in my room
Laura, Gita, and Porter in our lovely PC office in Yap!
Gita and I at a basketball game our second day in Yap - the first thing I could do after food poisoning!
The Mirco 76 Group - all 30 of us plus PC staff!
Lauren, Laura, Me, and Porter at the Mand waterfall (ropeswing!) in Pohnpei
JR, my 3 yr. old host cousin in Pohnpei (my room in the back)
Me at Nan Madol - ancient ruins in Pohnpei
PATS - our traning cite in Pohnpei
Enjoy!
PS - Hi Kathy (Rob's mom!)!! Thanks for reading!
Halloween in Yap
For 23 years of my life, I’ve woken up on Halloween to crisp leaves and chilled air, to candy corn and bare trees. Now imagine how this could be as different as possible. That was my Halloween this year. I woke up to tropical sun, heat, and humidity. I spent the day in the most translucent water I have ever imagined. Coconut trees and snorkeling, salt water and beach. Instead of looking up to bare branches, I looked out to clouds showing the curve of the earth on the horizon. And then came the scary part because, after all, one must be scared at some point on Halloween. It involved knives and death and guts. It was gruesome. It was horrid. It was me gutting my first fish. The horror, the terror!
After we gutted loads of tropical and brightly colored fish, our wonderful Program Assistant, the one and only Regina, treated the Yap Volunteers to a barbecue on the beach. While our supper was cooking, I took the opportunity to climb my first coconut trees (we were on a tourist beach away from locals, so it was ‘okay’ to climb as a woman) and then we made our plates out of coconut leaves. Sun-kissed and satisfied, we piled in the back of a pickup truck to be dropped off at our host families.
It was dark by time I arrived and instead of finding my host brothers and other sundry neighborhood kids, I found witches and goblins and ghosts! I had just enough time to through on my snorkel and mask as a costume before heading out to our neighborhood in search of booty. Here’s where I started to feel in my element. The kids were planning the route to hit the best houses first. We would travel in packs, the little ones lagging behind and holding my hand. Every once in a while, my host brothers would go missing only to reappear by jumping out of the trees at a gaggle of young, shrieking girls. At one point I caught up to a group of kids in a circle close together commanding “cover, cover.” By time I got close enough to figure out what was going on, a sparkler erupted and sent the whole group of us stumbling backwards with glee. A few houses, handfuls of candy, and screams more, the entertainment turned to running around and dancing with signal flares. Now would be a good time to comment that safety standards for kids are much different here than in the states. That’s all I have to say about that. Anyway, no one was hurt and fun was had by all. All in all, an A + Halloween.
In other news, which isn’t actually news, because it’s a well-established, practically antiquated fact, I have the best family and friends. Ever. Not only did I have a tower of FOUR packages to open today, I have received the most packages out of anyone by far – thank you so much, I feel the love! And now I’m typing on a huge chunk of that love right now. My wonderful family has given me a new Netbook with lots of trimmings. Oh, and a whole box of Thanksgiving trimmings. I’m rich with trimmings. And with technology (I even have a solar panel and battery for my electronics!). And with dried grains and beans and bars and nuts and candy and deodorant. Which has actually worked out perfectly b/c I am well-stocked now for my first voyage out to Woleai. It looks like my next trip back into Yap will be sometime around the end of February, and I am happy to report that I am supplied adequately, if not downright sumptuously, until then. Really, thank you.
I will do my best to communicate any future needs, but for now, your job is done, Care-Package Givers. I think it’s best to try to coordinate future packages for my resource trips back to Yap so as to avoid packages sitting around, just begging ants to infiltrate them. In the meantime, letters are as good as any physical food because they’re food for my soul I am sorry that I am unable to reciprocate all your generosity with souvenirs and even frequent letters from my end. Once training is over, I will have much more time, and hopefully resources, too. But please know that I think about you all daily. It’s a treasure to have such fond memories to connect me to you over the distance.
To paint a brief timeline of my immediate future, I have a language test tomorrow morning (PC wants us to be at an ‘intermediate low’ level…fingers crossed). Then Friday is our official swearing-in ceremony that will mark as passage from trainee to Volunteer…oh la la. Fancy. The three of us Woleaian Volunteers are singing a song in local dress for the ceremony. Which means a.) I have to sing in public and b.) I will be topless. Trust me, between the two, being topless is by far the lesser of two evils. I’ll let you know how it goes. But until then, send some tune my way, because I have none. Seriously.
Thanks all for following along my adventure. It feels like it has yet to begin, yet in many ways it already has. I appreciate all your thoughts, prayers, packages, and letters. They nourish and support me daily.
May you find some hidden, special nourishment in your day today! Blessings from Micronesia and a big, almost topless WHEE!
emily
