Thursday, December 25, 2003 (continued) ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Thursday, December 25, 2003 (continued) ~ Pohnpei

Christmas in Pohnpei. Not like what you’d expect in the States. The Christmas decorations have been up in some places all year round; just never taken down, I suppose. No expectations on the part of children of waking up to a visit from Santa Claus. I ask Lynn when the kids will get their presents, and she just says “Later. After.”

By mid-morning we head down to her village in Sokehs, where preparations are underway under the supervision of various aunties, pretty much the same as any other celebration I’ve witnessed: people bringing caseloads of chicken and pork ribs for the barbecue; numerous packages of hot dogs; large quantities of rice people made at home and bring to the village; breadfruit; taro; plantain bananas cooked in coconut milk; and deserts. By the time we get there, a couple of pigs are already in the “um,” baking over coals under blankets of palm leaves. I’m told there’ll be dog, too, which I am eager to try, knowingly this time.

When the food is ready, it will be brought to a covered structure they call the “naz,” the central meeting place where I went to ask Lynn’s mom for “permission.” After the food is blessed everyone will be invited to dig in. I’m usually invited, or pushed by Lynn, to go first, but I’ve never been comfortable being the first in line.

About the time the food is all ready, by the latter part of the afternoon, the men have begun pounding sakau for later. I’m very tired, and it is apparent to everyone, but I am trying to keep up appearances. I’ve been thinking about the immediate future; and I’ve been thinking about the immediate past. I’m trying to be hopeful, but I can’t see into the future the way I used to be able to. And I’m trying not to beat myself up about the past, but it’s hard not to want to put my regrets about own unfulfilled promises, and what “could have been,” and “should have been” into some sort of perspective. Lynn and my mom, from different points of view, are both telling me to stop thinking about the past, or about the future either, but just to do what’s in front of me right now.

The food is good. My appetite is returning, perhaps in anticipation of travelling soon and the days ahead. Dog isn’t bad at all. Tastes like the turkey.

I’d like to come back some day. I think I would. Maybe do it right next time. Maybe do what I came here to do in the first place. Be of service.

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Monday, September 29, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Monday, September 29, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

It's been a week since I last wrote anything. Just haven't been feeling very descriptive lately. Lynn will be 27 in November. We got back together (again) last night. The highs are so high. Too high. That much further to fall. Remembering Icarus. It's what happens when you fly too close to the sun.

No news on who is going to be the new AG. It'll be a few months, I'm sure.

My stuff from my house in Montgomery was supposed to arrive by ship yesterday. May be delivered to the house today, or tomorrow, or the next ....

I came home this evening and the front door was wide open. Must have been one of Lynn's girls, or maybe Lynn, who's usually very security conscious. We think we've heard people walking about on the front porch once or twice. I went outside with my boken, the wooden practice sword, which I'm comfortable with. Never saw anyone. I wasn't paying attention this morning to security. She must have been distracted, if it was Lynn. Nothing taken, not that there's much here other than clothes, a borrowed TV, a microwave, a small cheap CD/tape/radio player. My passport, a few other things. Amazing that nothing was taken.

I'm by myself tonight. I need some downtime from Micronesians and their children. There's only so much two and four year old intermittent crying and running around and fighting sleep I can take. The hydrocortizone I bought really seems to have worked on the oldest's bug bite scabs. She'd been on Guam and the food must have been different there, attracting the mosquitos in her village. I spoke to Lynn extensively on the phone tonight. Not even sure about what.

There was a soft knock on my side door shortly after I came home. (Micronesians knock (and talk) softly.) A boy around 11 years old, the son of a neighbor, said his father, Justino Gusto, asked if they could cut the sakau plant and some of the hibiscus tree, for sakau. (I've had his sakau, must be from here or hereabouts. Everyone claims the sakau on their property is better than elsewhere. But there's good sakau, and not so good sakau. His is good.) It was something to see the kid's older brother up in the hibiscus tree with a machete cutting off thinner branches. They strip and use the skin to wrap the pounded sakau, add water, and squeeze it out. Very interesting process I've described before. But to see this kid up a tree with a machete', so natural. My childhood Tarzan fantasy come to life.

Justino Gusto, also my former boss's landlord of a very nice house, runs a little store that sells cheap cigarettes, bottled water, soaps, betel nut, Ramen noodle soup (a staple, along with rice), Spam, canned tuna and salmon, a few other things. Actually, his 13-14 yr. old daughter runs it. And it's really just a convenience for his family and friends who live nearby. Many tiny little "convenience" stores like that, that only sell a few dozen items. Lynn may think I should keep the sakau plant for her family, don't know, will have to ask. (after talking to her, she said I did right) But these are my neighbors, and I always wave to the daughter on my way into the house. They were very kind to me my first or second night in this house, when I locked myself out of the house, wearing nothing but a pair of pants, and they let me use their phone and waited with me for a couple of hours until the landlord came with a set of keys.

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Sunday, September 7, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Sunday, September 7, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

In the sakau market I sit with the men; Lynn sits with the women. My thoughts drift through the rythmic pulse of river rocks being pounded on a large flat stone the size and shape of a coffee table to mash the pepper plant root and release what will become sakau. I am invited over to sit with the men while they squeeze the pounded pepper plant roots mixed with water through a webbing made of the inner bark of the hibiscus tree, like a towel being twisted to squeeze out the water. Very interesting to observe close up. One would think it'd take some serious muscle, but these people are no bigger than me, and are no more muscular.

The liquid sakau is squeezed into a cup from a coconut shell that someone else held. The first cup goes to the N'marki, or Naniken, whoever is the highest official present. The second, I don't know. The third to a woman. The fourth, I'm not sure to who or why, but I received it at one point. There's something about the number "4" here, but I haven't inquired yet what it is.

The Sakau experience is interesting, and quietly enjoyable. Very mellow, a mild narcotic. People are quiet, and talking, sharing a common cup. It's a very communal experience. Everyone speaking in Pohnpein, of course, which is kind of nice, as I catch a word or phrase or two, but don't really care that I'm missing anything, and have no concern that they're talking about me (which they are, especially when teasing Lynn). I have a certain tolerance limit for Sakau, where I know I don't want any more, or I'll suffer intestinal consequences the next day. I've never actually been "drunk" on it, although I have felt its effects. Lynn commented tonight that I showed no effects of being drunk. As I've said, it's not something I'm drawn to; but I do it to be a participant in Lynn's clan.

The locals actually seem to get drunk pretty quickly, beginning to nod off after a few cups' worth. It doesn't affect me that way, and I'm in no competition with anyone, and that's not what it's about. I only do it to be polite and respectful.

Toward the time I was ready to leave, someone passed me a cup and I said "Soh, Menlau" (no, thank you). That impressed the guy sitting next to me, that I was speaking the language. Lynn and the secretaries at work think I'm learning it fast. Doesn't seem that way to me. But it is a simple language. And I still need to hear and repeat a word or phrase many times to retain it.

Many on the island think Lynn and I are married. Lynn does what she can to disabuse them; I divert the issue. It's the life here. Doing the typical American boyfriend-girlfriend thing, like shopping for groceries together, results in an automatic presumption that we're married. On the other hand, there are those who don't know us, who see us, who stare, and sometimes even glare, assuming that Lynn is a "winnit" (sp?), a prostitute, who goes to the docks. We encountered that many times today while out shopping. Lynn's angry about it, and rightly so; but I figure once we're seen out and about enough, and once people learn who I am, it'll stop.

No rains the last day or two. Rains bring the breeze. It's been hot, but I'm sweating less. It's been over two months and I'm still adapting.

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Tuesday, September 2, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Tuesday, September 2, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

Mae sung Mwau (ph) ("Good morning")

I haven't felt this way in years. It's so nice to have someone to be close to, to be intimate with; and the work is interesting and challenging; and I feel useful around here again; and the people are worth working for, not the kind of idiocy I see in the states with our current political leaders at the national and state level, and political demagogues like Roy Moore. And this place (and its women) is just so damned beautiful, even when it rains. There's politics and corruption here, sure, but there's not the foolishness that I've seen in the states the last many years.

My sister asks whether I have a TV? Do I get any American channels? Do they have Video Rental? Yes, there's TV: ABC, CBS, NBC, UPN, PBS, come taped two weeks late from San Francisco. CNN and BBC are current news but it's weird listening to the news with British and Aussie accents. I don't watch TV for the news, here. I check a few papers on the Internet, like the NY Times, and Washington Post. There's a Chinese channel, a Japanese channel, a music video channel, Cartoon network, that only seems to play those raunchy cartoons, and Popeye, which is strangely appropriate. And there's the Hallmark Channel, broadcast in English, with Chinese subtitles. Also a "premium" channel that plays movies, not as good as HBO or Cinemax or Showtime though.

My sister has noticed that all of my emails lately are addressed to her and Mom, but not to Dad. She asks whether something happened or whether he gets his own. He does get some separate email of his own. But I've noticed some silences to some of the things I've said. No responses to the last few sets of pictures I've sent. Not a word in response to my openess about Lynn and other things. So, I'm not always sharing some of the more personal stuff with him anymore. I think he thinks I've gone nutz. (As various members of Lynn's family think she has). That I'm over-romanticizing the place and my experience here. Could be. So what? At one point, when I was explaining my perceptions of how children are raised here and how I could see raising kids here, at least the first ten years of their lives, he wrote and said not to go through the looking glass, that America's the greatest country, etc. My father has become exceptionally "patriotic" since 911. I'm 43, a little old for fatherly advice about my love life, or how great my country is.

My sister has been researching sakau. She says a website reports that it sounds like it tastes terrible though and the consistency doesn't appeal. She says it sounds like people get mellow instead of obnoxious like with alcohol. Yes, sakau is quiet and mellow. I don't think that it's addictive. I certainly don't crave it, like I do sometimes with alcohol. Though there are those here who abuse it. I can't comment on the taste other than to say it's "earthy," very. The reason I can't comment is because Lynn says you can never speak ill of sakau. Powerful magic in sakau, so you don't do it. I can tell she doesn't like its taste though. The locals are quite impressed that I drink with them. It's not something I care to do a lot, just occassionally, when I'm in the mood to be local, and my stomach's up for it.

My sister asks whether there is much drug use out here like we were exposed to when living on Kwaj. I haven't seen or heard much in the way of drug abuse out here other than local "maru," marijuana. Very cheap here. You can buy a joint for a dollar if you know where to go. Lynn and her mother are very much against it, as it seems to have destroyed some people's lives. Haven't heard much about harder stuff, although I did hear something once about crack cocaine that got on island. Apparently, people who didn't know any better used it for makeup, or as a dried lime substitute to wrap with the betel nut in banana leaf to chew. As to what the mehn why are doing in the recreational chemical department other than booze and pot, I wouldn't know.

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Sunday, August 17, 2003 (continued) ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Sunday, August 17, 2003 (continued) ~ Pohnpei

So, tonight, I went, and asked permission. Of the family, the mom, the family leader of the clan. We've slept together a month, and tonight I asked permission to be with her, to see her. Family from around the island came. A mehn why who's married to one of the clan came.

Some of Lynn's uncles are not happy about it. They think I'm going to take over raising her kids from their father, and that Lynn should stay true and wait for him to return. Lynn and I both know that's not in the plan.

All I was doing was showing respect to the family by asking permission to see her. It's like going back in time a hundred years....

We went to the family "naz," the thatched covered structure that somehow catches the breezes, where people come to be together, to talk, laugh, settle disputes, sleep. I brought fresh sakau, the pepper plant, that later, after, they pounded into the slightly narcotic drink, pounded on rocks, squeezed through strands of the inner bark of the hibiscus tree, served in a half coconut shell, passed around.

And, to her family and clan, I expressed my love and caring for Lynn. And asked permission to see her. We had waited for someone to come to interpret. Which he did. And after they passed around four cups of sakau, it was time for me to give a "speech." Lynn even dressed me for the occassion, a white Ron Jon muscle shirt. And I said what I had to say. And there were some questions. What I did. What about her girls. Questions that I wasn't unprepared for.

And after I spoke, the head of the clan (the local sakau bar owner) spoke for a long time. I heard "mehn why" twice. I heard "Kahlangen" (thank you) many times toward the end. I learned later, from talking with Lynn's mom, that he was expressing concern that two of Lynn's aunts had married mehn why, and been left by them. But he was expressing thanks for my showing of respect. And I received "permission." (That was already kind of in the bag.) And I was welcomed into the family.

And after that, we sat in the naz, and they pounded sakau, and I spoke with Lynn's mom, and told her about us, my family, about me, about Lynn and me. Sitting on cement, cross legged, or legs spread forward. Twenty or thirty people there, all family. All ages, grandmas and cousins and aunts holding babies. And Lynn's mom and I had a real heart-to-heart, and I was open with her. She has much magic. What she does with children is phenomenal. I told her I thought she'd like my mom, and that I thought my mom would like her.

There is such chaos here, and such order. And most people would think me crazy for what I'm doing. But I'm not. I want to share this, but I don't want to sound like a social anthropologist. I don't know. But I do know that I am happy. Somewhere, I woke up in a dream.

Pum Mwau (sp) (Good night.)

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Sunday, August 17, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Sunday, August 17, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

We went swimming in the ocean yesterday. Met at a sakau bar owned by a friend of relatives of hers. We wound up discussing a land dispute he has in court here against a cousin of his involving the man-made beach we were swimming at. Absolutely fascinating, considering how you factor in oral agreements and customary law, which differs in some ways from real property law in the U.S.

Some off-duty cops showed up that we made friends with and then wound up going to a river with. In the river were freshwater eels. Wow. Lynn was disgusted and afraid of them. They don't eat them here. Isn't that what unagi sushi is? Anyway, another great day. Until the night.

The sea of domestic tranquility is becoming more turbulent these days. We're fine by ourselves, but family pressure on Lynn, and her rebellious nature are taking their toll, and she takes it out on me when it gets late. I couldn't figure it out before, but she may have a split personality, triggered by manic depression, low self-esteem, abuse of sakau and alcohol, other things. I do know that the highs are very high with her, and the lows between us very sad and low. A lot has to do with her mother being here until Sunday, and Lynn's guilt because she's neglecting her family responsibilities to be with me.

Not that I ask her to. I'm trying to take my cues from her, but she doesn't make the right call that often when it comes to family responsibility. Her family is very mad at her about us. They think Lynn's not being respectfull to her mother and her clan. Most locals think I'm cool, and I don't think I'm the problem.

Lynn asked me to "ask permission" of her mother. We've been together a month, sleeping together every night but one or two. Everyone on island knows. I was asked by a mehn why female lawyer the other day if I'm married yet. Some people here treat us as if we are. Lynn insists that "asking permission" doesn't mean we're getting married. What I'm not sure of is where it is on the line between asking permission to date (which is something they don't actually do here) and being engaged. Despite the turbulence between us, I don't want to see other people. I want to be with her. The turbulence is caused by intra-family conflict about how she's been behaving.

So, I think what's going to happen is that I'm going to take fresh sakau (the raw pepper plant, about 30 lbs. worth) and ask permission of her mother. I'm going to lay out my truth of where I'm at, and that I want "permission" to see Lynn. It's approval and acceptance that I think we're talking about. It's about respect.

I've not been to Nan Madol or climbed Sokeh's Rock, yet. Lots of things I haven't done. Plenty of time to do all that. In the meantime, I'm learning tons lots more than I would being a tourist.

For breakfast we had mangrove crab and rice. Her uncle caught a small one the other night and I killed it and put it in the freezer. Boiled it this a.m. with some garlic powder, salt and pepper. I like the legs and claws; Lynn likes the inner parts (not the gills).

I'm getting slowly darker. Haven't burned at all, which is amazing.

My mother asks if there are cows on the island and if not, where does the milk come from? There are. Haven't seen them. The milk is in some non-refridgerated container that everyone buys. Interesting question, as I'd just asked Lynn the same thing.

My mother next asks what's the school system like, and in what language are the children taught? The schools are good enough, kindergarten through 6th grade, I'm told. After that, bad. English is the common language here. Every state speaks something different, so English is the common language for all. Although some speak it better than others.

My mother next asks what Lynn's mother is doing on Guam. My mother asks a lot of questions I don't think to ask. Answer: She lives there with her husband. Details unknown. Somehow, I think they'd like each other. Long hair, missing an eye tooth or two, others crowned with gold. But she's clearly in command while here. She's been nice to me the one time I was with her. Ten children, 53 yrs. old, looks older. But there's something strikingly beautiful about her somehow. Sakau drinker and betel nut chewer. But not to excess, from what I've seen. She has a great way with babies, rocking them without a rocking chair. And this is the woman I need to go see tonight to ask permission to see Lynn. I can't say I know what I'm doing, but I'm trying to do right and be happy.

The connection between here and Guam is very strong. A lot of locals from here go there, get involved in drugs and alcohol, and come back very messed up, I'm told.

It's early afternoon, but I need some rest before tonight.

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Monday, July 21, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years," the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Monday, July 21, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

It's been a couple of weeks since I've put pen to paper, or finger to keyboard. Indeterminate difficulties adjusting, physically and mentally.

It's so gorgeous out here, you have to shut yourself down or suffer sensory overload. That's probably why alcoholism and drinking sakau (the local mild narcotic drink made from the pepper plant which I've not tried), and suicide among young males are so prevalent. I've been told if you have problems back home, you'll have them out here, times three.

My household goods and furniture are all still in Montgomery, and I have no real idea if it was ever coming in the first place. The office manager kept saying it was being taken care of, and I've come to find out that she's never taken step one, she's just been smiling at me and saying it was done. I'm besides myself that someone can lie to me (and my boss) and smile at the same time over something that should be meaningless to them and so important to me. Getting straight answers out here about getting anything done is a joke. Which was part of my adjustment problem contributing to me coming to the conclusion that I had to go back, and deal with unresolved issues in Montgomery myself that I'd entrusted to others.

They say that Micronesia teaches you patience. It seems in order to survive in this way of life, what you have to learn is not to care. Maybe it's the same thing. But the way of thinking out here is definitely different from the way we think back home, and if you don't adopt it, unless you're a two-week tourist, you won't survive. It's that simple. And it's taken me nearly a month to begin to understand it.

Questions from home make me think too much about how to share about the difficulties I'm having adjusting, and make it worse. I really think it was, and is, just sensory overload that's gotten to me. I'm told it happens to everyone, although they generally forget it. It's one thing to be a tourist for a week or two to come to dive, live in a hotel, etc.; quite another to be contemplating being here for a few years. I haven't taken any pictures in a while either. Without realizing it, I quit taking pictures as a way to avoid the sensory overload. It's too much. Living on Kwajalein in the Marshall Islands as a military dependent didn't prepare me for this. I can't wait until I adjust.

There's an odd dichotomy here that I've simply not absorbed yet, the culture shock is setting in, in oddly disconcerting ways. It's overwhelming, and underwhelming. People smiling at each other and they smile throughout the day, and then they are somehow sad, reflective, even morose, at night.

There are 150,000 fewer people in this whole country than the town I just left, and yet there's an incredible diversity between the four states (as, frankly, ought to be expected given its geographical expanse). People from Pohnpei don't like people from Chuuk. Yap and Kosrae each keep to their own. I guess it's tribalism, and you see it intra-island too ~ which sounds so primitive as a description. But in fact there's nothing unsophisticated about these people.

The dictionary says the word "expatriate" can mean anything from someone away from their country, to someone who repudiates their country. Here, it's a friendly term, generally meaning the former. I've not repudiated my country, but I did need to get away from it. Too toxic these days, too many angry people.

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Tuesday, July 8, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

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Beginning with my June 2008 post "It's Been Five Years,"" the following is the continuing story of my travels from the United States into Micronesia ~ Pohnpei, Guam and Saipan ~ and my life since June 2003.

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Tuesday, July 8, 2003 ~ Pohnpei

The cat got back in through the cardboard I used to patch the window pane. Threw up or shit on my bedroom floor. Being mean to it and tossing her out doesn't seem to help ~ as repeatedly as I've done it. I want the windows fixed.

At least my next door neighbor, K'Nease, didn't show up last night. The story is that he fell down asleep on the side of the road one night and his head was rolled over by a car, so he's none too bright. Another version is that he was beaten up. He was drunk at the time, either way, probably on Sakau, a local narcotic drink made from a local pepper plant. My boss, the AG, who lives just down the road very close by, befriended him some time ago and now he makes a pest of himself showing up at Mehn Why's (sp?) homes, bumming cigarettes and booze. (Mehn Why is a local term for the whites, like haole, in Hawaiian. I understand it's a bit perjorative. On Yap, I'm told, the whites are called "awshits," because early sailors to the islands used to say "Aw, shit," a lot.)

The locals here get drunk pretty quickly, quiet and morose when they drink, an odd dichotomy compared to them smiling the rest of the day. No women involved in their get-togethers usually, the men in one group, the women in another. So while it isn't exactly high testoterone, the men getting quieter when they drink, it's not exactly balanced with estrogen either. K'Nease is already showing up here, offering to do my laundry, take me places. My boss is away in D.C. for two weeks, so K'Nease had plans on being with me. He called and left four messages on my answering machine last Sunday while I was out diving ~ his plan I think was he was going to show me where the laundry was and keep me company ~ each call progressively slower and thick-tongued.

I actually slept through the night pretty well last night. The ceiling fan and light in the living room died. And sometime during the night the air conditioning went off, but I didn't notice it. Guess I need to buy some floor fans, but I'm quickly running out of places to plug them in.

I wake up very early. An hour or more before dawn. I swear the roosters are crowing Kaselehlie (kah-seh-leh-lee-uh)!!! "Kaselehlie" is the Pohnpeian version of Aloha, and is evidently also Pohnpeian chicken for "Cock-a-doo-dle-doo!!!"