A Traveling Porter: June 2011

3/2/11 I think my metabolism is starting to rise, which should be good for my fitness but terrible for my comfort in a tropical climate. It's soo damn hot. Makes me wonder if this whole 'exercising' thing is really so advisable.

Living abroad, especially in a setting as distinct from one's nation of origin as I have found myself, is a tremendous way to force a realization of what and whom you most treasure 'back home'. Some people and things you knew you'd miss, though maybe not HOW MUCH you'd miss them. Other folks and fancies make their absence - and hence, their importance - known as their time and distance from you increase. All this is, of course, a drawn out way of saying, "you don't know what you've got till it's gone," except in this instance it's more "till you're gone from it."
During the past nearly two years (going on nineteen months of Peace Corps service, now) I've shared many of my 'forced realizations' in letters, on the blog, through phone calls and in the videos I've sent home. What I miss doesn't really change over time (could you stand to hear again how I miss the changing of the seasons?) - aside from some superficials dropping by the wayside (q-tips, carpet, electricity) - but the experience of 'missing' does.
At first the feeling is something sharp, stinging and akin to fright. It's a loss of the familiar, which can be scary as well as exciting - like that first big drop on a roller coaster. But it transforms over time, loses its immediacy - deepening, intensifying, becoming more poignant, more distant and yet more ever-present. It is at once more potent, easier to live with and clearer that you don't want to experience it indefinitely. The ache of missing really starts to mean something.

3/3 Just finished a meeting with my principal. We're coming together everyday after school and talking about lesson planning - how-to, strategies, tips, ideas - and tomorrow we'll start putting it into action, planning next week's lessons for the class we teach together: English for the 1st and 2nd graders. THEN next week (Mon-Thurs) we're going to start brainstorming a set curriculum for the class - what students should know by the time they enter 3rd grade. Once we figure that out, we'll turn it into a full year's worth of lessons, materials and activities - the complete plan for 1st/2nd grade English.
This is It, my big shot to really be of service to the people and school on Houk. I'm so excited about it and encouraged by Cos (the principal); his willingness to work with me, motivation to improve the school and excitement to pass on what he learns to the other teachers are an incredible blessing for me. I am SO LUCKY to have him as a counterpart (what we call the locals who work with PCVs).
Shit y'all! It's all coming together, and it's all coming to a close. I really feel like I've hit my stride as a volunteer, that I'm really doing the job I signed up to, and I've got eight months left in which to do it. Eight out of twenty-four - the final third. It's pretty surreal (that feeling just never goes away: reference the post from my first night in Pohnpei).
Pardon the vulgarity, but HOLY FUCKIN' SHIT! I feel like I've been through so much, been through so many places, met so many people, made so many friends, been away from home for so long, and YET I feel like it's all just flown by. There were some times that dragged by excruciatingly slowly, don't get me wrong, and there were things I wished would just hurry the fuck up and be DONE. But as the end draws near, over twice as near as the beginning (been eighteen months to the day since I left home), the whole experience starts to look pretty fast. That's nothing new to hear from me, though, is it? Think I've written or said that several times over this past year and a half. Mostly it comes out when things are going well. Shocking.
Yup, they bill this 'Peace Corps' thing as life changing, and turns out they know what they're talking about. Neither the world nor my place in it will ever look quite the same as it did before. I'm grateful for this. I think I have a better understanding of both, see them each more clearly and am able to better appreciate both.
Three more months of school till the summer, five-ish till our final training event (which might be how long I have to wait to post this on my blog), and after that, I'll pretty much be down to the final two months till I head back to Boise.
Wild.

3/8 Been back on Houk for almost six weeks. Longest straight stretch I've spent here, absurd considering I've been the 'Houk Volunteer' for over seven months. My thoughts and dreams have been drifting back home more frequently as of late. The aching to see the people and places and to live the parts of my life I love and miss most dearly has become especially potent the past couple days.
As would obviously be expected, the magnitude of my longing to be home fluctuates over time, crests and troughs there on the old 'missing home' chart. Also pretty obvious, this feeling takes it's lead from how I feel about my work here, dialing down when I think the job is clicking along at a good clip and ratcheting up when the job slows. "We're doing some good stuff here. These six months are gonna be gone before I know what happened!" versus "We're not really getting anywhere. How long is it till I head home?" What's kind of funny now is that I'm feeling good about just being here, job aside, and, job considered, one counterpart and I are working really well together but the other one and I aren't. So there's this weird ebb and flow happening where my desire to be home wells up and slides away. The wellings don't come too often - the feelings usually in the background of my mind - but the intensity of them seems to increase with each occurrence. At the same time, I can handle them better too, know how to put my head down and push through till the next Houk crest/homesick trough comes and I start being more present to the present again.
What I'm getting out of all of this - right now anyhow, could always change with the hour - is that I'm really going to be ready to go home once my twenty-six months are up. And I wonder whether I'm a 'live abroad intermittently' type or a 'take trips abroad occasionally' type. I'm confident now that I won't ever be living abroad truly indefinitely, but will I uproot and spend six months, a year or two or three in different countries around the world throughout my life, with say five or six or ten domestic years in between? I'm not sure, but I'm wondering about it. I suppose life'll help me make such decisions, throwing a curveball or two my direction, adding considerations into the mix that I don't really have at current.
Anyhow, I do really miss the shit out of all you back stateside, as well those of you who, likewise, find yourselves outside the US. Thoughts of seeing you again come regularly, sometimes as a quick smile from a glimpse of a memory and sometimes as a powerful realization of just how important you are to me and how ready I am to be in your company once more. Take care till then. I'll do the same.

3/12 Put up more security screens at the school today. Cos and I and a few of the older boys. We didn't get as much done as last week - only one window instead of two - and the mood was less enthusiastic. But that's to be expected, considering that this is an 'open' weekend - meaning drinking is allowed today and tomorrow. Cos likes him some alcohol, more than me even, and that's saying something as those of you who know me can attest (and those of you who don't know me, now know I like to knock 'em back). Anyhow, excited to get his drink on, Cos disappeared several times this morning to check if the fishing canoes were back yet (in island time, their return is the equivalent of 5 o'clock). So we called it a day after the first window was complete.
Speaking of drinking, I finished off my booze last night. My parents sent a bottle of scotch back in December and a friend sent a few beers in January. I had a few shots worth of scotch and one beer left as of yesterday, and, after this past week, I felt a need for the lot. Peace Corps is a series of highs and lows as I (and many others) have experienced it.
Well, this last week was a low: progress with my co-teachers stalled, host family relations grew cold and distant, and we have puppies at home now. That last one might seem like a boon to quality of life and, of course I adore the little guys, but Micronesians are generally short on love for animals, especially Micronesian children.
Janessa, our resident toddler (my host niece) got over her irrational fear of the dogs this week. I thought that was a good thing initially, but how wrong. Without fear, she's willing to touch them, and her touches spare little gentility. The puppy she likes gets twisted like a Gumby doll, picked up and put down repeatedly, and is under her watchful eye and iron fist whenever she's around. The one she doesn't like gets picked up and thrown down, kicked and punched, and I'm terrified anytime I see her with a knife (Micronesians start learning to handle knives about the time Americans learn to shake a rattle. Janessa can't utter a coherent sentence yet, but she wields a five-inch straight blade no more clumsily than many adults in the States. She can really dig that blade into wood - as long as it's something we don't want maimed).
We're all warned in training: 'dogs are property, not pets, in Micronesia'. I handled that pretty damn well in Pohnpei, Yap, Woleai and Weno. Dogs are vicious in Pohnpei and Weno (made that way by people), annoying as hell in Woleai and not even on my radar in Yap aside from my host family's puppy, which was benignly ignored. I saw dogs slaughtered, even ate some of the meat, though the second time I felt like someone was stabbing my soul with each bite.
I saw some exceptions to the rule too. Cowboy, a good friend in Woleai, had a dog-buddy named Whitecap every bit 'man's best friend' as a stateside pooch. My host family in Woleai was also real decent to our main dog, Four-Two (named for our SSB radio call number), but turned Blacky into dinner - didn't like that dog anyhow.
So wrap it all up - all the job frustration, home life dissatisfaction and heart break from watching loving pups being transformed into traumatized, eventually hateful dogs - and I had a meal of a week that needed washing down with some sauce. Sitting in my unlit room, listening to Ray LaMontague and The Weepies, leaning back and looking out my window at swaying palm tops in the last fading light of Friday, I opened a beer (New Belgium's Ranger IPA), sipped it down and then followed it with the last of the scotch - straight from the bottle. I let the tension drift off on a tropical breeze headed west and went outside to have dinner with the family and watch a movie before bed. Been feeling pretty good since then.

3/16 My family's toilet is of the 'water seal' variety, meaning we dump a bucket of water in the bowl to flush it, rather than pushing the lever. We keep two trashcans full of well water flanking the toilet like a royal guard (it is the 'throne,' right?). Over time evaporation has left these sentinels with mineral deposits in successive rings. The rings recall me of reservoirs in Idaho - Lucky Peak and Arrow Rock - with their high water marks and those others at varying levels and of various thickness, showing which heights lasted longest or are most common. It makes miss home, which is odd, though not unheard of, for a bathroom moment.

Moved into lesson planning training, then practicing it with Cos (principal and co-teacher for 1st/2nd grade English). As of yesterday, he’s showing a strong grasp of the process. We also covered the lesson planning form Chuuk State provides and will start practicing that as well to hone the skill.
Cos has been really vocal about his appreciation of this training and suggested I provide it to all NW Chuuk teachers in Weno this summer. Need to talk with my PC supervisors and see what they think.

3/17 A PCV was pulled from her site [temporarily, I found out later] because of inadequate communication with Peace Corps, and that might happen to me too. Might also be evacuated due to toxic spills in Japan. Need Pasiano (host father) to check the radio on weekends and in evenings from here on out.

3/18 Anxiety - real tight-chested, foggy-minded, nervous eating and shaky hands anxiety - strikes at site for the first time. Found out about the earthquake, tsunami(s?), and nuclear reactor damage in Japan on Monday. Have since found out there could be an evacuation of Peace Corps from the FSM due to toxic spills spreading, but that danger seems to have passed. Most recently, I've found out that communication with me on Houk, as it stands now, is inadequate. Have been told plainly that I might get pulled if things don't improve on that front - indeed, another PCV just was pulled for the same reason.
We mainly use SSB radios (like CB but longer range, I think) in the outer islands to talk to the world beyond the ocean. This is also a way Peace Corps alerts volunteers to emergencies, the only way for my site - FM/AM radio, cell phones, and a couple other options exist for main islands PCVs. Well, the Safety Coordinator for Micronesia was led to believe we had a radio being monitored 24/7, but we don't. We have three radios on island, each being checked once a day. Other than that, I have a satellite phone to check for messages on once a day (currently thrice a day thanks to the heightened state of alarm).
Oddly enough, it's not the natural disaster and man-made fallout that has me anxious, though I am worried for the people of the Pacific. I'm anxious because for the second time in my service I'm being told that the site Peace Corps set up for me might not meet their requirements for safety. And if it doesn't actually meet the standard, I'll be moving out, ending my work on Houk not long after it began in earnest.
Now, I fully understand the concern. Emergency alerts only work when timely, and a federal agency can't be risking danger to its workers overseas, especially when those workers are largely young, fresh out of college volunteers for one of the most well-known international aid organizations in the world. It's even more salient now, during the 50th anniversary year and following the recent 20/20 special about Peace Corps Volunteers being assaulted, raped and even killed in recent years, which indicted the agency for failing to take adequate precautions or provide support after the attacks.
I understand. Doesn't mean I like it. Doesn't mean I wasn't heartbroken by the last site closure. Doesn't mean I haven't JUST started to really feel like I'm making a home here. Doesn't mean I wouldn't be upset to lose the time and effort I've put in to be able to work with the folks here. Doesn't mean I don't feel like this is my last chance to do the work I came to Peace Corps Micronesia to get done. Doesn't mean I'm not nervous the attempt to get better radio coverage will fall short of the mark.
So I'm gnawing on my uncooked pack of ramen noodles, brooding over this turn of affairs before classes today. Questions swarming around my brain, slamming into the sides of my skull and creating a disquieting din of 'what-if's, a slight headache, unfocused eyes. Time has a weird halting haste at moments like these, hours blink past while minutes drag into eternity. Eight o'clock and the start of school spring upon me almost instantly after hanging up the five-minute call to the Safety Coordinator placed at a quarter to seven.
A song titled "Everything'll be alright" comes on my headphones just before first period, and I hope it's right about the disaster. And I know it's right for me, whatever may come.

A major reason the threat of Houk being closed is getting to me so much is how well things have gone this week in school and that things are getting back on the good foot at home. Cos and I have seen such tremendous progress both in our planning sessions and in the pay-off of that planning in our class. Angeli and I have also had some good meetings, setting a solid base for the rest of the year and getting some new tricks added to her bag of teaching. My hosts and I also have been spending more time together, talking and I even got to help Pasiano clarify the instructions to his new chainsaws last night (couple real nice Stihls for the upcoming work building a new canoe house on our property). Hard not to think 'why now?' but I suppose it's better than leaving and being happy about departure. Wouldn't say much for my time here if I was itching to leave.

Talked with my hosts about the radio situation. They'd said they're game for the task of checking three times daily. That's step one. Step two is figuring out how that's going to actually work. Then, step three, we need to pass some sort of Peace Corps 'communication test'. There we have it: the secret to success as a Peace Corps site. Just have to cross my fingers that all goes according to plan.

3/20 Another 'open' weekend, another big Saturday of drinking. Woke up nearly naked on my sleeping mat middle of last night. Apparently I took a shower before bed and had lain down with my towel around my waist. Fortunately, very few people ever look in my window.
Also yesterday, I put up more security screen at the school; hung this window pretty much solo. Cos didn't show till two hours after we'd agreed to meet, and all that was left was a few pieces of trim to be nailed on. It's not a complicated task but trying to measure out seven-ish feet of security screen, which is basically a short wire fence, that wants to be rolled up and not flat is tricky for one person. So is lifting that screen segment and nailing it up by yourself. Went fairly smoothly and I was feeling good about myself afterward.
Then I hauled a few wheelbarrows worth of firewood from the beach to home. Was feeling sufficiently manly by the time I took my shower and had lunch. Hit the men's circle after lunch, made some friends there and got sloshed.
One guy, Rote ('row-tay') asked me to send him a bible when I get home, and Kintino said he would send me off when I leave with a beaded necklace his mother had given him before she died. Guess I made a good impression, as he told me he likes me more than the last PCV that was here. Not sure why, we've barely spent any time together (maybe that's why), and just talked for the first time yesterday.
Was a hell of a Saturday, but I was regretting it slightly this morning due to the loss of my flip-flops and travel mug. Some one had taken my flops before I left the men's house, while I was peeing. The mug, I don't know what happened there, but this morning I popped down the men's house again and the guys there (already drinking before 7am) said they'd keep an eye out for it. My host cousin Stan also returned my flops, which made my day. Aside from them, all I have is my running shoes - not looking to make those daily wear.
And, you know, this just another way that I can tell I'm settling into Houk and that it'd be a shame to have to leave now. Making friends at the men's circle, doing good work at the school with my co-teachers, picking up more of the language (can kinda talk to people sometimes in Houkese) and having relationships with my host family improving and deepening. Hopefully we pass our communication test - fingers crossed!

3/21 Phone and phone calls becoming more and more tiring. Bad reception, constant searching for signal, constant concern about the security of my placement on Houk. There are reasons to be hopeful that I’ll be able to stay here. Just need to get this communication issue worked out, but I really won’t know if it’s good enough till the decision comes down from Pohnpei.
The decision to move me may already be a foregone conclusion, though. The Security Coordinator said, “When I report this [what I told her about the radios on Houk], they might just…” We didn’t really get the radio checked over the weekend, but I’m not sure who ‘they’ are or what they’ll do. The implication is I might get pulled; she might have even said so. Can’t be sure if she trailed off or if reception cut out or if the din of anxiety in my head clouded my hearing. All three are possible.

Immediate stressors this morning: 1) looming threat of site closure reaching climax & I expect a conclusion to the whole episode within the next two weeks, more likely in a week's time - transfer seems probable & anxiety rising; 2) co-teacher for 7th/8th grade English class absent today without warning (not that warning is common); 3) almost all classes disrupted today; 4) somebody destroyed the cables for the school's solar panel and radio antenna this weekend, cutting clean through them with a machete; 5) students in 1st/2nd English class still largely unable to identify words and their sounds in the five simple sentences we've been drilling for over a week, & Rina is upset with me for scolding her about giving other students answers when we want them to do it themselves; 6) satellite phone more of a headache than a help - incredibly sketchy reception, & it seems, ironically, that my recent increase in communication with Pohnpei staff is going to cause my transfer, which is based on inadequate communication; 7) a woman offered me coffee at my house - MY house, I live there, not her (ie, it's a reminder I don't really belong here, that I board at the house, I am not family or a community member but a visitor); 8) I'm having trouble telling how big a part of me is enthused about a potential transfer putting me in better contact with stateside folks and in the regular company of my volunteer friends, & feelings of guilt are on the rise as is resentment: at Peace Corps, at my placement site & co-workers, at myself; 9) not unsure my time in Peace Corps has been 'worth it' but positive I could have contributed more had I just been let be; 10) I miss family, friends, fall & winter, sweaters & jeans & knit hats, good beer, hiking, vegetables, speaking & being understood, Western notions & behavior surrounding 'respect' & 'responsibility', relative anonymity, cheese & potatoes & pasta & beans & burritos, river valley views, pine trees, pets instead of property, parenting and discipline styles I agree with, being seen as a person rather than a store of goods & resources & cheap labor. That is to say, I miss home, but as I've been told, I'm not likely to find what I expect out of 'home' even when I make it back to Boise. Readjustment, sweet.

If they offered me an early COS today, one within the next month or two, I don't know if I'd take it, but I'd definitely consider it. Also know an extension has never seemed less likely. Depending on what Emi has to say next Monday (transfer imminent or unlikely), I'll have to check what they plan on doing with me in the event of being pulled from Houk.

3/22 If everything just blows over here, I’ll be relieved but also feel a bit jerked around. Starting to feel varying levels of burnout, jadedness, and numbness to my situation – mostly just burned out, though.
In other news, the Municipal Chairman said they’d try to help out with radio checking in the evening. Should make Peace Corps happy. Cos is helping me get this thing shored up, and I really appreciate it.

3/23 Took a nice long beach stroll yesterday to clear my head. Such a blessing to be near the ocean and it’s calming presence. However, by the time I was on the airstrip (far southern end of the island), I could barely will myself to keep walking. Tired, frustrated and with an increasing sense of hopelessness, I stopped in my tracks about halfway around the tarmac. Yeah, time for a reassessment.
Talking to myself like a crazy person, I broke down the situation: my main problem is inner turmoil over my conflicting feelings about Houk being closed. I was in a ‘low’ period when the news came, and so a significant part of me was eager for better communication with home and time in the company of my Chuuk lagoon friends. Same feelings I had really early on in Woleai when I heard about the plan to consolidate all Yap high schools to the main island. Both times I got down on myself, “if you were a better volunteer, nay, person, you wouldn’t want to leave in the least.” Well, I loved Woleai, so I shouldn’t be surprised some part of me wants to leave here. Doesn’t make me a bad person or a failed PCV. So I told myself to lay off.
Then I considered the more tangible issue confronting me: possible second transfer. Three scenarios seem likely to me. One, the Safety Coordinator is just trying to improve communication on island and I’m not really in danger of a transfer. Two, there is a legitimate threat needing to be addressed. Three, communication has already been deemed inadequate and I’ll be moved in the near future – I think this scenario unlikely.
The first seems the most likely to me, the second possible but I’m taking the steps needed to address the threat, and the third is totally out of my hands. Plus, I really doubt the third is reality. So I’m feeling much better today, knowing I’ve done what I can. Just have to let the rest play out as it will.

3/24 Frustrating day at school. One co-teacher absent, a student being VERY disruptive in class, really getting stared at over the top today, still no word on Houk’s status with Peace Corps (transfer or no?). Need to call Imauo (immediate PC supervisor) and check on the situation.

3/25 Called Imauo yesterday and ended up (shockingly) talking to the Country Director for Micronesia. He happened to be visiting Chuuk. Sounds like the communication problem is a countrywide problem, not just a Houk issue. Should know what’s up by the end of next week. I’m a bit concerned that no matter what happens, there’s going to be some sort of let down. Houk should be kept open and this is where my best chance for contributing is. However, if that does happen, I’ll miss out on that reconnection with family and friends and the enjoyment of main island comforts. I am excited by those possiblities, but know I don’t want to be transferred for them. I could just use a break, but would ultimately be fine if left to push through.

Sometimes I surprise myself, little comments I make to no one, out loud. Then I realize that Peace Corps has, indeed, made me a bit crazy just as a friend predicted might happen before I left. Being so alone, so much of the time, in so many meanings of the word, I have retuned much of the quirky inner life I led as a young boy. Now though, it's been perverted by the oddities and maturities of greater life experience: so-called 'adulthood', though most adults I know would likely still say I'm in 'young adulthood' or even 'extended adolescence'. And so it is, upon noticing the family's clock battery has died and I won't be able to use it for timing my nightly radio vigil, that I remarked, without thought or shock-comic intent, "Oh, fuck a goat". Yup, adolescence it is.

Have just a little more info on the potential transfer situation. Talked with the Country Director on Thursday, and he said they'll be meeting early next week to hash it out. I should know by Thursday or Friday what the decision is. He's been away from Pohnpei for a while, thus the delay.
I wasn't actually expecting to talk with him at all, had called Imauo (immediate PC supervisor) with the idea that if this thing is actually serious, he'd have heard something about it. Well, turns out Renwick, the CD, was visiting Chuuk, so I heard his story. I found out it's serious.
Ren apologized for ruining my weekend and asked if I still have my crazy huge beard from MST (6 months+ at that point). I've since whacked down the beard ('bout two-months length now), and he didn't ruin my weekend at all. He liberated it. Not knowing if or when the ax would drop had been pretty tortuous, until I gave myself that little reality check on the airstrip. Now I have one question answered and know I've done all in my power to ensure the other answer is the right one.
All I have to do is just keep at my job and go about life here on Houk. With any luck, the transfer business will all be behind me in a week's time and nobody'll read this post until August. An April update means I've officially been transferred for a second time, will have recently devolved into self-pity and gotten righteously drunk.

3/26 Waiting for Cos at school. We’re putting up security screens on his back window today, did his small front windows yesterday after school. I came early, about 6:40 am, to sip coffee and listen to an NPR podcast. Little mainstays of life in the US help get me through, though I didn’t drink coffee till Woleai and rarely saw any hour before 9 am on a Saturday unless I hadn’t slept yet. I also suspect these moments will help once I’m back home and missing my Micronesian life. An early Saturday morning with coffee and the radio will be totally doable and keep me in touch with where I’ve been/who I’ve been these two years.
Sometimes I look around, pause and go into sponge mode. I try and suck up as much as possible of the moment: smell of morning, gentle chirping of crickets providing a backdrop to my music, sunrise light casting dancing shadows from breeze-tossed palms on the concrete floor of my classroom, particle board crumbles from the small folding table I use as a chalkboard collecting on the rusty desk where it’s propped, the school days and weeks tallied and slowly crossed off on the larger but more damaged blackboard (mostly unusable), the sense of peace I feel amid the current turmoil of threatened transfer seeming like calm before the storm, a man passing snapping and blowing bubbles with a piece of the cheap chewing gum that recently flooded the island.
Yesterday I took a run after putting up security screen with Cos. I like to start out west from my house, veer south when I reach the main ‘road’, which is close to the shoreline, and head through Eor (South) village on my way to the airstrip. I take several walking laps once I’m on the tarmac, lose myself in all sort of thoughts. On the run back home, I could smell autumn on the breeze, the scent if not the quality of chill air. I think it happened because I miss that season so much, what with it being March and I in the tropical Pacific – autumn’s not likely to come whisking my way. Like to think it was a sturdy Arctic wind, though, holding onto its personality even as the last of its strength was sapped by the warm water and hot sun near the Equator.
Cos never did show up, but I don’t really mind. Was a very relaxing morning. Came home at a quarter to ten, had another cup of coffee and a good chat with Simeon (traditional chief on island for a vacation from his patrol boat captaincy) before lunch. Been a nice little Saturday. Got to talk about backpacking and beer – always a plus. Think I’ll head down to the ‘gubul’ (party/men’s circle) here soon.

3/28 The transfer isn’t happening. Houk will remain my site. My anxiety is pretty much gone, but I really don’t know how to feel about things right now. The past two weeks were really stressful, and it seems like maybe my site never was in any real danger of being closed. Kind of a frustrating feeling. Getting upset won’t do me any good. Need to find perspective again. I’m back on track here, back to the original plan. COS conference in August, maybe teacher training in Weno in June and July, keep on working. Plenty to keep me busy.
I've decided I should get out of here this summer, out of the FSM, good and far from Peace Corps. I think I need to get back to Boise. If I get back there in June, I might even get to celebrate Pa's 90th. Would be awesome. We'll see what happens. Have to talk with another Peace Corps boss to check her opinion on some other summer plans I'm brewing.

3/29 I wonder if I’m becoming embittered – imbittered? Is this a word – by these recent challenges. Probably just a down time, but I’m getting sich of spending so much time upset. It’s like having my world turned upside down. Instead of feeling good for four out of five days and upset one, it’s good one and upset four. Patience vanishes, anger simmers, blah, blah, blah… Been here, talked it to death. I’m tired of adjusting all the time.

3/30 Woke up feeling a bit better today, but was down again pretty quick. The bad student behavior is a part of my problem, so I decided to release, let it go, all my attempts at authority. They can do as they please outside of class. I’ll just try to keep their attention during lessons. I’m going to let go of my hopes and expectations for my co-teachers too. They can set the tone. I’ll just try to capitalize on the moments when they are engaged.
My calendars both help and hurt. They help keep a record and provide an organizational tool, obviously, but they also stare at me, slap my face with all the days between me and home. Hopefully my recent resolutions bring about a fresh happiness, a renewed time of enjoyment and peace. Today’s already going better. Laughing with students, sketching one on my chalkboard – a cartoony version of him as an American. The kids love it, and it makes me chuckle.

3/31 Last day of March, thank the good and just Flying Spaghetti Monster. It’s ben a rough month, and I hope April brings some happier times and fewer frustrations. It’s certainly going to bring faluba back into my world, which I’m stoked about. Simeon cleared us to start cutting a few days ago. My trees aren’t ready yet, so I may have to wait a while. Hopefully the guys will share with me until I start producing. I think they will. [they did]

4/4 Finals week starts today, PTA and clean-up later this week. 3rd quarter is coming to a close, but that doesn’t mean too terribly much. You need more organization before a schedule can matter beyond giving a ballpark for the end of the year. That’s coming the first or second Friday in June.
Just thought about First and Last Thursday in Boise: special evening of open art galleries, cheap/free booze and snacks. You can stroll downtown, enjoy the art, sip some wine, and retire to a bar for drinks and conversation. I could use some art in my life. When my sketches and crayon BS are primary viewing treasures, you know the area is seriously lacking in that department. My host father did nearly complete a damn fine model sailing canoe, which is says is for me, though.
The weekend was okay, Friday night was the best. Got to talk with a PCV friend and that connection put me in my best mood since chatting with my folks after the tsunami warning. Had a great chat with a local friend afterward and was amazed by how much my high spirits improved our exchange, or maybe it just seemed that way because of how happy I was. Anyhow, it certainly reminded me how much better life is with a bright outlook and how crucial feeling known and understood is for having one.
Living in a place where you don’t speak the language with any real depth beyond “I’m done eating” and the locals don’t quite speak your language fluently leaves you feeling an unknown quantity. Confusion, misconception and surface level understanding are predominant feelings. Can’t properly explain yourself or communicate complex concepts any more than have them told to you.
I spend a great deal of time observing interactions and either being ignored or ogled. Viewing and occasionally participating in interpersonal exchanges gives me the perception – real or imagined – that I know certain people here: their character, motives, care for others, persona. Being rarely engaged, though often stared at like a zoo attraction (people – mostly kids – literally come stare through the screens and boards of my windows without a word, just stare), leaves me with the perception – real or imagined – that few know anything of substance about me. My favored sitting positions, my tendency to read and write, that I have a beard and white skin are all fully known but still apparently warrant considerable attention. My reasons for being here, my personal history, an abiding love of the outdoors, the things I tend to think of as making me, me, these seem rather shrouded from the local population. Sometimes I worry that the persona and character they might perceive is flat, foolish, easy to annoyance and anger, ungrateful, offensive. I don’t think that list of characterizes me very well, but how do they see me?
Even in my cheeriest moments I can’t shake the feeling I’m little more than a curious new island pet. They like to watch me in my natural habitat (the classroom), play with me when time and mood allow (drinking circles for the men, meals for the women), and laugh at the tricks they teach me (Houkese words, cultural behaviors, simple skills). There are exceptions of course – Cos, Pat, Colby, Rose, and a smattering of kindly islanders who see me as a guest/tourist.

4/5 [Frustrations with school; resolution to continue working in my target areas without getting too worked up about things I can’t change.]

4/6 You remember that good kind of anxiety from when you were a kid? Like it's Friday afternoon, you've got a friend staying the night, you organized your toys after school into likely groupings for more play and less searching, it's about 4:30 pm and - as your friend's parents finish work at 5 - you figure they ought to arrive approximately thirty seconds later? Or Christmas Eve, anticipating tomorrow's presents and candy? There's so much joy in it, expectation and such an abundance of excitement that it's uncomfortable and just slightly painful. Though I imagine it's a bit tempered by the lame-ities of age, I'm feeling that anxiousness again today. The plane's coming and should be bringing mail!
There really just isn't much of anything else so exciting as mail call in Peace Corps, in my outer island experience, anyhow. Of course I get pumped about other stuff, like the cutting of faluba being permitted again by our chief, Simeon - so awesome. But there's an x-factor with mail. The uncertainty, the possibility, the moments to come where all those many miles between Houk and home will briefly disappear while I take back up ongoing discussions or start new ones with those dear to me. And there's that small trill of fear: "what if I didn't get any mail or if the mail I did get wasn't put on the plane?" It's actually a really nice feeling, even with the discomfort. I remember feeling it in Woleai - also waiting on mail - and in Pohnpei - waiting for site placement - and in the States, waiting for my invitation to Peace Corps service. Nice to feel it again. [Dang! The plane's been delayed till tomorrow. Such a let down. Now today's going to stretch on forever.]

In other news, I've completed seventeen months of service and have been in the FSM for nineteen. Next month, I'll officially be three-fourths of the way through with my service. One year and a half done with but another half sitting ahead, and a half so broken up by travel and conferences and different work projects and close-of-service paperwork/exams it'll just flash passed. It's really coming to the end. How will I feel when it's actually over...?

Been quite the negative nancy lately, upset over all the transfer BS and letting that color all of my experiences. I can feel the upswing starting, though. Outlook brighter, mood lighter, weeks look shorter. Hope this keeps going in such a fashion.

4/7 Two under-sized seventh grade girls stalk into the schoolyard in front of my door. Two black butterflies with white spots are fluttering near the edge of a clump of jungle there. They raise hands holding short sticks. My jaw slackens and my gaze becomes incredulously fixed. Slowly, carefully they draw near the butterflies and at the same instant violently bring their sticks down, attempting to find contact. The Micronesian viewpoint in me: "They're just bugs." The much stronger American: "Are you kidding me?! Butterflies? Who on Earth attacks butterflies? That's fucked up." They missed. Whew.

The plane is coming today. It's currently heading to Ta, an island to the southeast of Chuuk's main lagoon. Back to Weno, the main island of Chuuk, and then onto Houk. Should be here between one and two this afternoon, meaning it'll more likely be here around three or four. Can't wait to get my mail, and REALLY hope Imauo gets it on the plane. But that's never a certainty. Boats are much easier to get stuff on than the plane, especially flights fully booked with passengers. Just have to wait and see. Also sending in a bag - stuff I don't need at site but want to take home with me. It'll make my next trip in a lot easier and lighter. Word.

I don't know the last time I felt this good. I mean, seriously. I feel sooooooooooo good. Mail from home and Micronesian friends - blows me away. Thank you. Anyone who has ever sent me a letter or package, you can't even imagine how much it's meant to me. Such a beautiful thing. My heart feels fit to burst. And it makes my relationships here better, deeper, easier, more sincere. Unless you've lived a life like this, you'll never know the full measure of my happiness right now. I am so grateful for you all. Find whatever your passion, your love is and get close to it, right now. It'll tell you something of how blissful I am right now.

4/11 Started my day with some minor repair work on my door at school, after starting the cooking fire and boiling our coffee water at home. Felt good to do the fire for once - my family wouldn't have let me except I got up before them.
I don't know who I do it for really, I mean, beyond the fact we all use the hot water. Do I sneak these kinds of jobs to remind myself that, despite the general opinion on island, I am in fact a capable human being? Or am I trying to prove something to folks around here? "See? I have no physical disabilities and I'm not a complete bumbling moron! I can, with scarcely greater difficulty than you - just out of practice, light a fire or climb a coconut tree or hammer a nail in or whatever." Maybe I'm trying to do both, as well as pull some of my own weight and show a little appreciation to those who usually do these tasks for me.

My buddy Pat just walked by my class.
Pat: "Did Cos... tell you something about today?"
Me: "About the PTA?"
Pat: "Yeah. It's cancel."
Me: "Really?"
Apparently today has been declared a 'fishing day' and the men will go fishing. So the PTA will wait till tomorrow. There are a couple things about this I love. First: "did Cos (pause) tell you something..." Something? He has a specific piece of information in mind, why leave it so vague? Well, Micronesian culture is indirect, as opposed to American directness, in conversation. Info generally is transmitted obliquely, through casual conversation. Short pointed chats are not the norm. Also, by remaining vague, you leave open the possibility of learning something you might not have were you to get straight to the point. What if Cos had told me something but not about the PTA? Maybe Pat would be interested to know. Still, it makes me chuckle, as does (second:) finding out our PTA has been canceled from a friend passing by instead of from the principal, boss.

Well, in keeping with the fashion of inappropriate sources of information, my boss just told me that my host cousin attempted suicide last night. I sat with my host mother for twenty minutes this morning and she told me about another cousin falling out of his palm tree (he seems mostly alright, but a little banged up) and a drunk guy beating up the school last night - hence the door repair. She didn't say anything about Stan. I don't get it, don't understand the way people let serious, important, family information pass here. Thank goodness Stan's attempt failed.
All this shit: the drunk pummeling the school, Vinnie's fall and Stan's attempt on his own life, it's all a result of too much drinking, not knowing how to handle oneself while drunk and the local cultural strictures against expressing emotion (except in the case of Vinnie's fall; he was just sloshed). Everybody is expected to just keep all their feelings bottled up inside, especially anger, longing, passion, sorrow. The more powerful, the less appropriate and that's not a good combination. It's painful, destabilizing and leads to explosive outbursts when a people lose their grasp. Throes of agony at funerals, fury-driven attacks on anyone within range when long burning embers of dislike are stoked by alcohol, and the sickeningly common attempts of suicide by the desperate who see no way out.
This is the first time attempted suicide has hit close to me, but other volunteers have seen it in their communities and schools, more than attempts too. The high school in Ulithi (outer island atoll of Yap) lost two students last year, one right after the other. The PCV on Mogmog knew it would happen that way. She'd seen it before in the States.
It's terrifying and there seems to be little we can do about it. There have been really good programs on some of the main islands - plays, short stories and poems turned into radio announcements, songs - which have gotten families talking and started to dispel the mystique and frightening allure of suicide. But the outer islands seem so far removed from those options, the tight-lipped aspect of the culture so much stronger here. At least the islands I've served on, though I could really see something big being done in Woleai. The community is so united there, the students very capable and the school so centrally important to the island and atoll.
The PCVs in the Mortlocks (southeast outer islands of Chuuk) did have a major success with a boys summer camp last year, which they're continuing this year. I don't imagine I'll be able to pull off such an undertaking here for a variety of personal and community reasons, but I wonder if there isn't something that could be done. Something with the school kids that could be presented to the community. Will have to think on that, my heads a bit foggy right now.
I'm so glad the family was able to prevent Stan from ending his life. I hope he scared himself; I hope he doesn't try again; I hope someone has the courage to talk with him. I can barely discuss anything in the local language beyond food preferences and Stan has similar limits in English, otherwise I'd be all over him, trying to convince him there's always options, and they're almost all better than suicide, whatever his problems.
Maybe Houk really had it figured out, being a dry island. Can't see that much good has come of reinstating drinking privileges. It's done so irresponsible, so over the top. Not that I can say I never go passed my limit, but I feel I've been a damn sight healthier in my approach to alcohol than what I've seen here.
I really don't like this.

Cos also told me this morning that school might end in May, instead of June. The teachers need to be into Weno by the first full week in June for some program called 'second summer' if they want to take the University of Guam courses later on in the summer. Not sure he gave me a full explanation, but couldn't really muster the energy to care after that first bit of news he shared with me. Other news from Cos: my host father is taking off to Yap for the summer in May, when the Voyager comes through, whether or not school is finished; Angeli and Benedict (teachers) are in charge of 'graduation preparations', which seem mostly to be writing speeches for the valedictorian and salutatorian; I'll be taking over for Benedict if he leaves before graduation, writing a speech in English for the valedictorian, as is the custom - both for the speech to be in English and for a teacher to write it; our graduation theme comes from the DOE, should get it in May; and he's checking with the DOE to see if we can finish school early so the teachers can make that summer program. I feel like he said something else but can't remember. Guess I'll just deal with it later.

4/12 It’s raining on one side of the school this morning and blue skies with sunshine on the other. So cool and weird. Not just momentarily either. It’s going on and on. Rain out one window, clear skies the other.

4/14 School's going pretty shakily. Starting to suspect the fourth quarter is going to be a flop. The fact that we'll have the national tests next week further jeopardizes the remainder of our fourth quarter - saps motivation.

[Entry deleted for privacy of others.]

4/15 Last night I came home from the men's circle and there were many more people at the house than normal. Looked like half the women in the village were here. They said Janessa, my host niece, had a high fever. She was surrounded by women who seemed to be taking care of her. Went to bed. Today, when I got back from school, I saw Janessa close up, and something was obviously wrong. Something in her eyes and hands. Pasiano said she's going to be handicapped. It makes me sick just thinking about it.
Here's this toddler, just really developing a personality, becoming a full person, learning to speak, and now she's gone. It's a lost life, in many ways. We'll never know the adult Janessa might have been. My heart breaks every time I look at her. Pasiano picked her up earlier today, to take her somewhere. She's lost almost all motor control, and I know it must be tearing him apart. But Micronesians don't show emotion like Americans. Tragedy strikes and they take it in stride on the surface. Somehow it hurts that much more, knowing the storm that's raging under his calm surface.
Janessa and Pasiano have a special relationship. She's lives to be carried by him. Her most frequently uttered word is Papa. He adores her. To hear him talk to her with that same voice, like nothing has happened, I feel tears well up and a pressure on my heart.
This is so sad.

4/18 Janessa has regained much of her motor control, but her demeanor is drastically different. Everybody figures she's suffered lasting brain damage and now has a cognitive disability. But she's eating again and who knows how much lasting damage has really occurred. Maybe I'm deluding myself into believing further recovery is possible, but looking at her today, compared to Friday, the improvement is wonderful. I'll hold out for more even if it's foolish to do so.

A boat should be coming next week, chartered by the DOE to administer a couple national tests in the NW. Hopefully get some mail, maybe a package or two. That'd be sweet. [Didn’t, dang]

4/19 [Excitement about improved position at school and feeling of returning purpose.]

4/27 [Upset about failure to realize the improvement I’d hoped for at school.]

Pasiano hasn’t been coming to school lately, and I don’t fault him for it. I’d be pretty devastated in his place. Work would be far from my mind. On Easter Sunday, I think I even saw his emotions overtake him. He looked so miserable and surprised me with an Easter hug – very uncommon. Yet Janessa is improving. She’ll never be exactly the same, but maybe the resilience of childhood will help her to a higher functioning adult life. One thing is clear, she’s full of joy, smiles and laughter. She seems so much happier than ever before. Not sure what to make of it, but given the situation isn’t about to reverse, I can only be grateful she’s doing so well. But I’m not surprised that even this improvement hasn’t offset Pasiano’s sadness over her condition.

Was able to talk with a fellow teacher at school on Monday about my struggles. Felt really good to get some of it off my chest. Afterward I was going to use the radio to join the outer island PCV radio conference, but the key was misplaced. Instead, I was swept into the gubul. Not how I’d hoped to spend the day – had work to do – but what can you do? You know the idea of a ‘pusher’ for drugs? Multiply that by 30 and make him charmingly enthusiastic and sensitive to rejection. That’s a men’s circle on Houk. They guilt you, demand your company and show their hurt feelings if you refuse. All this withstanding, I can usually escape just by saying I have work to do. Not so on Monday, well not after the first time I walked by – had to check a couple men’s circles to try and find the key that had disappeared. Both circles eventually broke through my resolve, and before I knew it I was six cups in on the day I’d wanted none.
Faluba is like a wine, somewhere in the 15-20% range. Slam six cups in twenty minutes and it’ll turn your cheeks rosy. The real bitch is the fresher the stuff, the longer it keeps getting you drunker. Monday’s was mostly fresh. Get the engine warm and this drinking machine is ready to go. Turned into a much different day than I’d planned on, to say the least.

Since Monday – even before talking with that teacher – I’ve felt a weight lifted, for no discernable reason. Maybe it’s just the infinitesimally greater amount of contact I’ve been having with my hosts and community members. Maybe the letters I wrote, venting out some of my issues. Maybe a funk can only last so long before it tires itself out or all these things have just added up enough to tip the scales back toward an upward trajectory (mixing metaphors is so enjoyable, “Once we hit that bulls-eye, all the dominos will fall like a house of cards. Checkmate.”). Whatever it is, my step is lighter and while my excitement to visit home in July is no less, it’s no longer desperate. The days are shedding faster now, dragging much less.
Things are pretty much the same as ever, but I’m just not taking them so hard. I’m reconciled to it, to my life on Houk. I might even start to enjoy it more.
It’s ten-thirty now (a.m.), and school’s done for the day. Just Cos and I here again. Our class and the two others he taught were not the best examples of education in action, but much better than last week, when classes didn’t so much happen. I’m worried about the rest of the school year and what we’ll get accomplished. Yet, I’m not angry or frustrated or feeling in anyway bad, except my stomach’s indignation over the old, greasy doughnuts I ate this morning. It’s rather confusing. Cos and I even had a great chat, swapping stories and bits of history – he spoke of famous canoe building stories and I of Czech revolutionary events. His story of a talented builder committing suicide by amputating his ‘member’ on a canoe in progress (because his son had arranged to demonstrate their technique to men from other islands – giving away such valuable knowledge is a huge taboo in Micronesia) reminded me of Czech students burning themselves alive – making a grand statement through grizzly suicide.
More canoe stories brought us within a stone’s throw of a topic I’d been eager to discuss: differences in communication styles between the US and Micronesia. He recounted humorous canoe builder passive-aggressiveness (making shoddy boats because the offerings given to the builders weren’t what they wanted, though they never told the ‘buyer’ what they wanted), and I was clear to note how such things would happen differently in the States and tell of my difficulties in Peace Corps trying to get a handle on this new way of communicating. Honesty and openness are not as valued here as appeasing the listener, telling him what he wants to hear, expecting him to read between the lines and figure out the actual situation. Very difficult.
Thus I have planted the seed – having learned a measure of Micronesian cunning – and I can return to it, tend it over time. Before long, Cos may well understand my directness, not feel the bluntness of it so much, and stop looking for deeper meaning in words that convey the whole of my intent within the lines.

Ended up getting a fever later in the day. Topped out at 103 degrees F. Lasted through the next day but was manageable with ibuprofen.

4/28 Fever is gone, but I can tell something is still off. It’s building, too.
National tests are coming up next week, and we need to get our classes back on track. [Further details on my concerns omitted]

5/2 The DOE boat is finally coming today. The national standardized tests for students and teachers will be given, as will the junior high entrance test. I'm worried about the performance of our students. School has been shaky, and we were never able to do any practice tests.
I called Janeen, the PTO, today, seeking her advice for my work. The challenges seem out of my realm of control or influence.

5/6 Recurring dreams, I think most people have them. But I don't mean the kind that are totally repetitive and insane. The one you've been having since age ten where a calico cat in overalls plays the spoons while your second grade teacher (who has your father's face and mother's body and Michael J. Fox's voice) slowly lowers you into a vat of molten chocolate, all the time singing the Star Spangled Banner, not that one. Everyone has that one. The ones I'm thinking of are these dreams I have once or twice a year, sometimes as more or less exact repeats but more often with slight updates. There's a whole bevy of them. The old ones phase out and new ones phase in over the years.
The oldest and only one I can always recall started when I was in third grade and always involves myself and two of my then classmates. We're living in a sandstone cave, orangeish in tint, and we have strained conversations about our tenuous situation. Spelunking as a housing strategy isn't the carefree existence cavemen always have led us to believe, trust me. I haven't seen either of these people in over a decade, and we age just a bit slower in the dream than I have in real life. I last had that one just while I was in Illinois. Shocked me because I hadn't had it in about four years.
The other reruns I can usually only remember right afterward. I know they exist, and I can always tell it's a repeat while I'm dreaming, but I can't recall them at will. Just had one a couple of nights ago. It's a new one, first time it's repeated, and the original screening was just before Peace Corps. The dream involves my family dropping me off for service. I'm headed to the FSM, but, in crazy dreamworld, the trip is by car and goes through Bulgaria. Apparently in my mind's eye Bulgaria is primarily made of lumpy yellow stalactite- (or is it stalagmite?) esque formations and structures. The homes, shops and landscape are entirely these odd geological formations, there is no plant life and busted old playgrounds dot the scenery. Aside from driving around and telling stories on each other, our main activity is to stop at a gas station. My brother and I excitedly buy mix-n-match six packs of cheap beer, constantly discussing the varieties available and our decisions. It's such an oddly comfortable dream to have, even with the drab and certainly unfair representation of Bulgaria. It was like really being with my family and took me back to the optimism and excitement of my run up to departing for Peace Corps, during which I spent so much quality time in their company.

5/8 [Entry omitted on account of melodrama. General thesis is: I failed as a PCV in many ways on Houk. Most Peace Corps folks I’ve talked to dispute this claim, but not the folks at my site. I’m not taking COMPLETE responsibility for the outcome but neither am I blameless, and the bottom line is I did not accomplish my tasks.]

5/10 [Entry omitted. Things VERY shaky for my placement.]

5/11 I’ve talked with the three men with the most influence on my work here, and each expressed support for my continued service for Houk. Actions have also demonstrated that support. Taken together, the rest of my time here is looking brighter. I’m very confused by the turn of events, but I’m pleased with them.
[I know this is all getting pretty disjointed and opaque, but I don’t feel comfortable going into greater detail on here. If you want more info, it’ll have to be via direct communication.]

5/12 [Decision made to close my service in August, rather than November. No viable work assignment will exist for my final three months. Lucky to get the option of early COS.]

5/16 [Entry omitted. More of the same.]

5/17 [Entry omitted. I was very down and contemplating resigning my post.]

5/18 Reading David James Duncan’s “My Story as Told by Water” today has me longing for home in all new ways. The tremendous beauty of the Mountain West is sung so genuinely and alluringly by Duncan. Rock and water and earth and all the walking, flying, crawling, swimming, hopping multitude come to mind in vivid memory. I want to lose myself, especially the self of these most recent months (whiny, angry, etc.), in the mountains and rivers of Idaho. Joy, wonder and CONNECTION are experiences I want to find myself in while I’m losing my self.

5/19 [Entry omitted: boring.]

5/23 Start of another school week, the last one of full classes. Next week we only have one days of finals, two of graduation prep, and then graduation. The plane might come June 8th, and I’m hoping to be on it. The timing is perfect.
The summer will have my final project: workshop on long-range lesson planning for Houk’s teachers. This time last year, we’d just gotten to Yap proper for IST II. I was bummed to leave Woleai but prepared to deal with the training. I was SO excited for the summer. Such good plans for work and fun. Little did I know, the months I hoped for would shrink to ten days, but the best ten days of my service, so that’s sweet.

5/24 [Entry omitted: boring Peace Corps paperwork nonsense.]

5/25 Thirteen days b/w today and the flight, two weeks more on Houk if the schedule holds.
I’ve been overly focused on this pending departure and all the things that go along with it, both in this document and in my thoughts. My whole life feels very narrow and shallow of late. Instead of opening new vistas of depth and complexity and beauty, I feel like I’m closing down.
Connection. That’s the key. I need more connections in my life.

5/27 I have just finished my last week of school in Micronesia. Somehow it feels really sudden. The end of last year felt just the same. I remember my last class with the computer students. Felt very anticlimactic and blunt. “Welp…. Guess that’s it. Hope you guys enjoyed it,” bell, gone, over.

5/28 I’ve tried to keep as honest an account of my experiences and emotions through these two years as possible, for myself as well as others. Unfortunately, there have been more downs to detail and fewer ups than I’d have preferred – as a writer and as it’s my life. For those following along, you have my sincere appreciation and apologies.
There have been some truly blessed moments: meeting my group of PCVs at staging, last burrito in Hawaii, talking astronomy with Robert (host in Pohnpei), the sakau party my Pohnpei hosts through for me and Matt and Mike, placement day, Man Meetings with Eriks during PST II, the Woleai Crew, swear-in night, arriving in Woleai, playing Santa by handing out copra before Christmas, swimming with my niece Katie riding my back in the lagoon, biowe (trap fishing) and the Iyeoiur men’s circle, the Easter song and dance we did, my many PCV friendships, celebration nights with all the Yap M76ers together or all of Team Chuuk, dinners with Eriks and Kaz and Koji on Yap, my parents’ visit, seeing my seniors graduate and shake their president’s hand, my friendship with Andy, having Jo come to Woleai, the swimming during our summer soccer camp, my last ten days on Woleai, the love overflowing on the morning I left, meeting Team Chuuk and becoming a member, all of MST, the purpose and peace I felt on Houk in February, hearing Enola’s laugh when we’d play, teaching Johnson to ‘hit the rock’, those days when I can see the 1st/2nd graders really learning, how they shake my hand after class, making friends at the drinking circles, letter and packages.
There have been some rough moments: STD training in Pohnpei (with pics), the heat, loss of seasons (as I know them), distance from home and family and friends, new and unvarying food, saying good-bye so often and to so many people (PCVs and locals), language training, days without progress, adapting to Island Time, being sick through my first Christmas and birthday, insomnia, tension at IST I and anxiety about the ship, two solid months away from Woleai after IST II, getting an intestinal worm, learning to sacrifice my independence, hand washing loin cloths, doing with out beer and cheese, running out of TP for a month, feeling alternately like a zoo animal and a spectre.
And there have been a few heartbreaking moments: transfer from Woleai, Andy’s death, months of doubt and frustration and sadness and idleness. I’ll be dealing with them for some time to come, I imagine.
I’ve learned a great deal about Micronesia, its people and culture, about the practical challenges of Peace Corps type work, about myself and Life, and about death. Some lessons were fun and easy, others wrenching and slow and difficult. Most have been worth the cost; one in particular was not. The next great challenge or task post-Peace Corps will be how to make all this education a part of my life and how I live.
I’m open to suggestions.

5/30 Had a real special moment with my hosts last night. Sitting outside, chatting, reading. Enola climbs into my lap, and I read to her from The Fellowship of the Ring. A song came up in the text, so I sang it, and she fell asleep in my lap. They tried it on Janessa next, but she’s wasn’t having it. Then I described the beauty of Boise to Rose. It was good to have that, I think. Leaving on a positive note.

5/31 Eight days left. My thoughts spend much of each day on the opposite side of the Pacific from myself. Hopes, concerns and musings for the future weave through my wandering mind’s daily travels. Family and friends, reverse culture shock, and ‘what the hell am I going to do with myself – in Boise, in Normal, elsewhere?’ How soon should I look for work and in what capacity? Should I just wait till I go to finish my MA? How much backpacking can I get in before the season ends? Can I possibly find enough time to see and be with all the people I’ve missed so dearly? Which beer should I drink first? Food? In what ways will my years in Micronesia and the changes wrought manifest themselves once I’m back home? Can I ensure I avoid the pitfalls that lead to taking for granted the tremendous amenities and privilege of the US? Will I be able to handle cold weather still? What cultural quirks will I show I’ve picked up? And SERIOUSLY, which beer first?!

6/2 Graduation day and just six more remaining on Houk, 126 behind me. Visions and dreams of food are a prominent part of my waking and slumbering life these days. I’m very excited to take control back over my eating, to reestablish the self-reliance aspect of American independence. I’m ready to be DONE walking on egg shells without the benefit of getting to eat eggs! [LONG list of foods I miss. Four pages!]

6/6 [Entry omitted: basic gist is I’m excited to get back in touch with people and finish up my service. Weno here I come!]

6/13 Made it to Weno. Already spent four nights here, and I'm starting to feel much more comfortable. Had my best night of sleep in over three weeks last night.
I made it here in time to see, spend some time with and say goodbye to the second year Jesuit Volunteers who have finished their service and gone home. Sad to watch them go, but so good to have been able to see them. I'll miss Tyler, Jess, Caro and Mike, but I know it was time for them to move on, as it will be for me soon.
Also got to see another PCV and meet her family before they left for Japan. It was really nice to spend time with them and hilarious to watch their family dynamic. Just good to be around a Western family and feel the culture of home for a bit.
I'm back at my host family tonight, getting ready for bed. Nice folks here, and I love the sleeping arrangement. All the men sleep out in a little hut. Very breezy and comfortable. Up tomorrow morning, starting to round up supplies for my host family on Houk and meeting with some Dept. of Education people to get materials for setting up the workshop I’m doing with the teachers from my school this summer.