Welimmwemii to My Island Life!

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!

Bon Voyage!

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

It's Official. Emily Hurianek - Peace Corps Volunteer.

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 and Gratitude

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

Learnings...with 2 weeks to go

Laughter. People here are serious about laughter. There's lots of it a lot of the time. For how culturally traditional people are here, they are unreserved with the fun. People are also unreserved with their bodies, which is, to be fair, what one might expect of a culture in which women go topless and men wear loin cloths. But it is interesting to observe families' physical affection towards their kids. Massage here is a tafeeli faliuwashe, or a local remedy for the majority of minor aches or illnesses. My favorite example of this to date occurred between my 24 yr. old host brother and his buddy Catowin. Now, let me set the stage a little. My host brother looks like a professional tight end and I'm sure he's come out the winner of any skirmish he's been in. Catowin, on the other hand, I first met when he was showing off his scar from when a shark attacked him at the age of ten. It's gnarly looking and he supplemented it with a tattooed cartoon shark with its mouth around the scar. Not to mention that he's built of muscle. (How do I know this? Let's just say it's one of the advantages of young men wearing only a thu.). So these are the characters and here is the rest of the story. A couple of weekends ago the fam and I were hanging out under the beranta (the outdoor living 'room'). My brother and Cat were sitting next to each other as everyone was chatting. The next time I looked over, there was Mr. Shark-Bite himself giving the Woleaian Shannon Sharp a coconut oil massage on his arm with total nonchalance and absolutely no awkwardness. All this to say that I am really appreciating the small parts of the culture upon which I'm slowly, and hopefully not too clumsily, stumbling upon.

Here's a random update on my thoughts/observations about gender roles and respect in Yap. In Woleaian culture, women cannot be higher than men. As a result, for example, they are not supposed to climb trees. Another manifestation of this is that when a woman's brother or uncle passes her on the road, she must cross the road and squat down. My current understanding of this is that these behaviors are how respect is shown here. In the States, we often spout ideologies (myself highly included) about respect - about equality for all and showing every person the same level of respect. But how often do we really "show" our respect for one another? I'm honestly hard pressed to think of specific examples that bring my respect for people to the surface. Here, however, I can see the respect that women show for their family. The tricky thing is whether I will also be able to detect ways in which other people in the culture are shown respect or disrespect.

Adventures in mwongoo...Mwongoo is the most common word I say and hear here. Why? Well, we've been told that mwongoo is love. So what is it? Food, of course. Interestingly, there is no common greeting in Woleaian, no 'hi' or 'good day.' Instead, people say 'buutogo mwongoo' (come eat) whenever someone approaches. Needless to say, food is central to life in this culture. My most recent adventures up to date include 'al dente' (read: barely cooked) ramen with ant floaties galore (more protein, right?); delicious fiiyefiiye, a sweet rice, pumpkin, coconut pudding drink; a bite of sea turtle (it's a frequent meal in Woleai :-( ); and a declined offer of gelaagu...dog. I tried to do my best to respectfully decline and explain that, to me, dogs are part of the family and it just wouldn't seem right to eat part of the family!

Dogs in Micronesia are aplenty, and we're not talking pedigreed pooches here. We're talking about nearly or totally wild canines that are scrawny and mangy and battle-worn. When walking about, one must be weary of dogs and either carry a stick or rock for self-defense. On the whole, I've found that dogs are better treated here in Yap than in Pohnpei due to two factors. One being the availability of free vet clinics to have dogs spayed or neutered, and the other being that dogs are seen more as pets than pests. My family has a dog named Spike plus a few others who have island names I can never remember, plus a new puppy. Notwithstanding, dog is an occasional guest on the dinner table as well as a constant guest under the table. (Side note to my cat loving friends: there are cats as well, but they are just ignored, which is probably safer for them to be outside the realm of mwongoo potential.).

This weekend was the first annual Yap Canoe Festival. I got to hang out at it on Friday and I volunteered on Sat. It was fun to get to help out and my favorite part was getting to hang out with the local kids that were volunteering. The kids here are wonderful - they'll start teasing you the second they meet you. I spent most of the time working with a kid named Jake. He's sixteen but could be some lost relative of Hagrid. He is big, big-hearted, and a barrel of laughs. This weekend was also fun b/c it helped me realize how many wonderful people I've met and friends I've made. For instance, there was a wrestling demonstration Saturday night and I knew probably half the boys. My twin brothers wrestled against each other and one was recognized as a hopeful for a great scholarship opportunity to Singapore. There was such a spirit of fun and instead of competitiveness and jeering from the crowd, there was camaraderie and cheers and laughter from the crowd. Like I said before, laughter is one of my favorite parts of this culture.

In other news, I've started reading A Walk in The Woods by Bill Bryson. I've also discovered that Yapese ants' favorite food is the Just Tomatoes brand of freeze-dried veggies. It's intense how they always seem to go for it and none of the other tasty treats around it (thankfully). Well, I best be off to start my second to last week of training.

I hope you are all well and thanks for thoughts! Whee!

emily

Feel the love...

Just a quick update. Everything is going really well...language training has calmed down a bit and training in general is a little more relaxed. I'm enjoying my host family and community here, but I'm also really looking forward to getting out to Woleai so I can really settle in and get my feet set for the next two years. Everyone I tell I'm going to Woleai replies with one of two things - either "take a mosquito net" or "lucky! It's so beautiful!" I'm stoked.

I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to my family and friends who have sent letters and care packages. At the PO today I had four packages and I could definitely feel the love! It's really great to hear from friends and I love opening packages in front of the other PCVs, who have all declared that they're taking notes from me on what to ask from their friends. They keep saying I must have really great friends, and I tell them YES. I ABSOLUTELY DO! So thank you thank you thank you!

Oh, and just as a quick side note on the wardrobe...I have not yet 'gone local' to the full extent. I have been given two beautiful lavalavas, but it's not tops-off until the swear-in ceremony. It's been fun to hear the little stories about all the fun and laughter my new lifestyle is causing :-) I'm happy you think of me when you laugh. There are many, many moments here where I smile or laugh just thinking about you and the memories we have.

I have another post in the works, so be on the lookout for Mr. Shark-Bite and what a man-eat-dog world it is here. Stay tuned...

Snippets of my life here:

[posted by MOM]

= Not always getting what I expect. Case in point: ordering the veggie burger for the first time at Oasis (one of a very few restaurants here). The veggie burger, it turns out, is a pile of suateed veggies on a sweet burger bun. It was good and I enjoyed it, but I also learned that a menu in a foreign country contains all sorts of mysteries!

= Where everybody knows your name. Yap is a small, insular place and a group of seven new Peace Corps are nobody's stranger. Many times walking in town I'll have people say hi to me by name and I've never met them. Case in point: the other day I was eating lunch with Gita and Porter, the other two volunteers going to Woleai, when a young woman approached us. The first thing she said was, "you're going to Woleai" and all we could say is, "yes we are, what's your name?"

= Raw gums. I mentioned before that betel nut chewing is ubiquitous here and constant. Which means people will be speaking to me in another language while chewing betel nut and spitting red in the middle of a sentence, which may be a contibuting factor to why Woleaian is so hard to learn. I've tried it a few times myself and the gums on the left side of my mouth are raw from the lime, which ppl sprinkle in the middle of it to purposefully make their mouths raw. Why? Because it let's the 'buzz' properties of the betel nut get into the body and cause a mini little high.

= Death by volleyball. I have six host brothers and we play volleyball together a lot. Now, you might think that as their host sister they'd give me a break. Or you might be like me and underestimate their abilities. But boy oh boy. When I step onto the court (read: patch a dirt with a clothesline as a net and bounded by rusty metal pipes) they have it out for me and get a huge kick out of spiking the ball in my face, esp. Riley and Rodney, the 16 yr. old identical twins. In the states I can hold my own on the court, but here I cower in fear. Sad, but true.

= Kissing lizards. We have countless house lizards that eat bugs and make kissing noises at you. When we first arrived in Micronesia, we were told about nightcrawling, where young men crawl outside thier sweethearts' rooms at night as a form of dating ritual. We were warned that it might happen to us and several of the girls here mistook the kissing lizards to be nightcrawlers.

= Christmas carols. I've heard several since coming to Yap. What can I say? They're catchy.

= Picture imperrfect moments, like the sun setting after a run and Gita double-fisting a can of spaghetti in one hand a cup of chocolate water in the other.

Here is a run down of what communication is going to look like once I'm on Woleai:

-Mail about once a month

-Phone and email about once every three or four months

Here's a little more detail. There are two ways to get to the atoll - by plane and by ship. The plane goes out very rarely, only when the are enough passengers or when there is an emergency. The ship is supposed to come about once a month. Any time either of these makes a trip to Woleai, any letters/packages for me will be brought out to me and I'll be able to send mail back. Also, I'll have a number of resource trips or training sessions throught the next two years that will bring me back to the main island.

As far as communcation available on Falalus, there is an SSB radio and I'll have a satellite phone for emergency purposes. I'll have weekly checkins with my program assistant on Yap with the sat phone, but all other communication is going to have to be written.

Im going to end this quickly to send off while I'm still connected to wifi. Be well, thanks for following along, and keep in touch!

whee !

emily