Before I go into that, I want to share some of the not-so-ordinary holiday celebrations I experienced in December. As many of you know, holidays away from home are tough. I think they can be even harder when "away" equates to 7500 miles. However, I tried not to dwell on the American traditions I was missing this year, but be fully present in the Pohnpeian traditions I was invited to take part in.
There was nothing Pohnpeian about my Christmas Eve. Hilarious, yes....Pohnpeian, no. One of my Caucasian friends and fellow church-goer on island, Bob, invited us to his house for karaoke. Instead of listening to Bing Crosby and Nat King Cole like I'm sure my parents were, Bob and the rest of the Jesuit Volunteers were belting out Journey and the BeeGees. I even made the mistake of selecting "Drop it like its Hot" by Snoop Dogg (note: not Christmas friendly). I don't think the world is ready for a "Snoop Doggy Dogg Christmas" album.
The next morning, we headed out to Senator Aurelio Joab's house for a Christmas Day celebration and feast. My traditional Christmas celebration in the states always consistent of a nice brunch with bacon, eggs and the works. It was similar at the senator's house, with a little twist.
Our "bacon" was 6 live pigs. And yes, they "prepared" those pigs approximately 6 feet from where we were sitting. I have never in my life heard screams as ear-piercing as those I heard that morning. Hitchcock's slasher films don't even come close.
The best gift I got on that Christmas Day was the gift of true relaxation. I had just spent the last month working day after day to prepare for finals practice, practice for the Christmas program and keep up with my 8th grade classroom. I needed some R&R. So on December 25, 2009, I sat in a chair for seven hours straight and did not move. SEVEN HOURS. I talked with some members of the Joab family, listened to the sound of sakau being pounded and watched some well-prepared line dancing. I needed every second of it. We were even offered a leg of the pigs that had just been slaughtered. The amazing hospitality I was shown made me feel a little closer to home.
January came too soon, and it was back to teaching. The JVI administration warned us that we would go through a "honeymoon" phase during the first few months of volunteering in a new, beautiful place. Luckily, this feeling of euphoria lasted about six months for me. But like most things, my experiences here began to normalize. I entered ordinary time. The giant coconut and breadfruit trees I used to gawk at on the way to school had become ordinary. The smell of pigs and burning trash that used to sting my nostrils had become ordinary. All of these foreign things that before left my jaw dropped and eyes open had become ordinary. I think my culture "shock" was culture "normalization." (see photo below)
As I look back over my professional career, I can identify my Achilles' heel pretty easily. It is a fear of the mundane. In my 5 years in the working world, I have worked as a moving man, book factory sorter, pool boy, retail salesman, maintenance man, newspaper designer, cook, bouncer (don't laugh too hard), teacher's assistant and finally...8th grade teacher. I think my ridiculous list of previous employment comes from my burning desire to experience the unknown. A desire to never be flatfooted in my search for new ideas and new people.
After about one month, I felt very flatfooted. I was worried that I might be getting unsatisfied with my position. I was worried that I would get bored like I did while cleaning pool filters and selling Billabong t-shirts. I was worried that I would have to grind it out each day for the next year and a half. I was quickly pulled out this state of worry by a sage who happens to live across the hallway from my room. In more or less words, my community mate reminded me that "You just have to recognize what makes you happy here and stick closely to those things." A simple idea, I know. But an idea that I have struggled with many times.
I started coming out of this funk by simply recognizing the beauty in my day-to-day. It dawned on me - I am a teacher. How more unpredictable and interesting could things get....? I walk to work everyday and have no idea what my students might say, what lessons they might love and what things I might learn from them. There are so many variables and intricacies in my life here that I just wasn't recognizing. I'm guessing that was the same case in my old jobs in the states.
So while my days here are starting to become "ordinary," that would be the case anywhere I go. Hell, I can't remain footloose my entire life. Therefore, it is important to recognize the significance in the insignificant. (I know, how cheesy is that)
Let me give you some examples from Pohnpei Catholic School:
- From 8:00-8:30 a.m. every morning, I sit on the bench outside the resource room and get to know the younger students who come to sit next to me: One student, DeShawn, is convinced that I am in the CIA. I, of course, never correct him. Another student, Eureka, has been trying to teach me about the islands inside the Chuuk lagoon. Each and every one of the second graders is amazed at the amount of leg hair I have. These are the things that make me appreciate each day.
- From 8:45-3:30 p.m. every day, I venture into the realms of Literature, Language, World History, Spelling and Catholic Catechism. My students are finally getting used to the way I teach, and I am closing in on the way they learn. We had a coffe house-style poetry reading last week in which I challenged my students to use creativity in their presentations. I said they could use music, posters and even cool lighting. In which case my student, Nile, responded, "We don't have any lighting in this room." I couldn't help but bust out laughing at the absurd truth in his response. Our classroom has no functioning lights. I have been amazed lately at how my students are maturing and learning at a rate I never thought possible. In order to more fully explain the term "alligator" in my spelling class, I acted like a baby antelope at the water's edge getting attacked by "a large reptile with powerful jaws and sharp teeth." Nobody missed that one on the quiz.
- Pohnpei State Soccer Team: There is an untapped resource here in Pohnpei: talented soccer players. Everyday, a group of about 15 Pohnpeian boys and men meet at the same field to practice shooting drills, scrimage and and train. Most days, you might notice a skinny, very white American running with them and trying his best to impart his knowledge of the game. That American is yours truly. Fortunately for me, the players have welcomed me and treated me as a fellow player. They have even been teaching me the language. As you can guess, language on the field isn't always "proper," but its important nonetheless. Two of the players has even welcomed me to their house to meet their family and drink sakau en pohnpei. I never would have thought soccer would have been my ticket for becoming inculturated on this island, but that's exactly what is has become.
- Community: I was about to go on a long list of things for this topic...but, you know when you tell a story and get all the way end only to explain "Well, I guess you had to be there." I feel like the idiocracies that transpire between my community mates and I would fit into this category. (see photo below)
- The interactions with the international community at Our Lady of Mercy Church have also been very rewarding. Currently, I am working with Tim Smit (former JVI) and Luke Lavin (current JVI) to teach this year's Confirmation class. We have 14 students that are really enjoyable to work with. Through this process, a lot of my own beliefs and thoughts about the Catholic Church have been "confirmed" in a positive way.
Kasehlelie,
Mr. Philip
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