Sakau Night

Madolenihmw, Pohnpei – Sept. 27th, 2009 (Date written)

The Friday after placement day (Sept. 19th, the second Friday I spent in Madolenihmw), my host family threw a sakau party and invited a bunch of family, as well as the two closest trainees (Matt and Mike) and their families. There was a barbecue, sakau, music and goodtimes. It was dark when things started – just my host cousin Larry and I pounding kava roots on 'the rock' (pretty much every family in Pohnpei has a sakau pounding rock for important events, or basically whenever there are kava roots to be had), eating BBQ chicken & hanging out. Then Einsen (a friend/relative of my family) came over, and the squeezing began.
To make sakau you first pound the kava roots. Then you strip long, skinny pieces of bark from a hibiscus tree to soak in water and squeeze the pounded roots with. Initially this turns the pounded roots into a sort of pasty consistency. Water is added, bit by bit, throughout the initial squeezing, flemmy residue from the hibiscus is slopped onto the pile and the mash is intermittently kneaded until the root-paste is ready to be squeezed into sakau.
With the prep work done, Larry, Einsen and I are ready to get to the business of drinking. Pohnpeian traditions around the drinking of sakau are very detailed and follow the local social hierarchy. At the top, and garnering the first cup, is the king, known as the Nanmwarki. If he's not around, then the prince (Nanken) gets the first taste. If he's not around, then the highest title holding man puts the sakau-filled coconut half-shell to his lips first. The second cup goes to the next highest titled man. And then the Nanmwarki's/first drinker's wife takes a cup, the Nanmawarki gets a second, the squeezer, and finally, it's a free flowing cup. Well, this time around, we had no king, no prince, no title holding man, and so the honor fell to me.
The three of us sat around drinking for a while, along with Lorna – my host mother – and a couple other ladies whose names I didn't catch, till Matt showed up with his family. Oh, and it was a spectacular entrance. Sakau is a powerful psycho-active drug when drank freshly 'off the rock', and I was feeling it by this point. So I got a big kick out of Matt coming onto the scene with a Tom-Cruise-in-Risky-Business-esque slide around the side of the nahs, holding a bottle of sakau in each hand and delivering a line something like, 'Here's Johnny!' I'm easily amused anyway.
More local family poured in, Robert – my host father – came home from his sakau and ukulele gathering trip, and Mike finally showed after Matt and I were well passed 'jungle-buzzed' (as Matt says). I had, in fact, broken out into a decent sweat for a short time and switched over to drinking almost only water. A guitar and the ukulele were passed around – Robert is a great singer and ukulele player – and I worked some less than impressive harmonica throughout the rest of the evening. It was a beautiful night of friendship, family, generosity and the coming together of two cultures, which really showed when Mike led the three 'men wai' (foreigners) in an enthusiastic, if somewhat ragged rendition of 'What I Got' by Sublime and all the locals clapped with gusto – maybe in appreciation for the song, possibly for the end of the song (you know, the end – when you come to a stop? I love that part).
After all visitors had headed home, Robert and I were left sitting in the cool darkness, awash in soft light and the relaxed numbness of mind that comes from an evening of sakau. We talked about how much we each enjoyed and appreciated the chance to meet and get to know one another. He told me that he wished he'd been home more; I assured him that our evening conversations would be some of my most treasured memories from Madolenihmw; He said we was going to demand Peace Corps give him two volunteers next time, and made me promise to return with my family (as in – wife and kids) inside of ten years.