Peneinei

"Don't forget what you've learned
All you give is returned
And if life seems absurd
What you need is some laughter
And a season to sleep
And a place to get clean."
~Bright Eyes, "Cleanse Song"

Something amazing happens when you travel to a country half way around the world, especially when that country reciprocally sends people to the exact place that you came from. There is a growing number of volunteer teachers, professors, medical practitioners, etc. on there way to Micronesia. Conversely, Micronesians (Pohnpeians especially) have been booking e-tickets and searching for seat 27-C aboard Continental flights to the good ole U.S. of A. The amazing thing that happens is a simple act of reaching out. There are families that welcome you with open arms and open doors as if you were the Lost Son returning after losing everything.

It seems to be an episode of "Trading Places" or more appropriately "Life Swap." The humorous thing is that many locals here cannot comprehend why in the world you would actually want to live in Pohnpei. Their thought is that America is still the hunting ground for manifest destiny. That may be, but I am looking for mine about six degrees north of the Equator.

I spent close to a week in an Wone, which is located in Kitti, an outer municipality of Pohnpei. Usually, I stay in a small apartment in "downtown Pohnpei." This melting pot of Philipino, American, Australian, Fijian, Chuukese, Kosraean, Yapese, and many other nationalities is known as KOLONIA. Kolonia is a very beautiful place. There is internet that allows me to contact my family and put blogs on this site. There is air conditioning in some buildings that gives my sweat glands a rest. There are also good doctors that prescribe high doses of antibiotics to counteract the many boils I have encountered. Most importantly, there is a very strong Church and local community that supports my efforts as a teacher and a lay person at the Our Lady fo Mercy Church. For these reasons, Kolonia is comfortable. And I thank God everyday for this comfort.

Comfort is a deceiving thing. It can often times leave you stagnant, relying on the familiar. In these cases, one is not challenged and can miss opportunities to learn. I have found these opportunities not to far from Kolonia. I have found a second home amidst my confusion on this island. The best place about a home is family.

The Pohnpeian word from family is "peneinei." (pronounced panaynay) That should explain the title of this post. I have many different support systems on this island. On most days, I feel very fortunate to be able to turn to my three roommates for advice, knowledge of Pohnpei, or a simple conversation. On other days, I turn to the Jesuits. They are a unique family structure as it is. A structure that have really formed the island that I inhabit. Their knowledge of Micronesia and the Catholic faith have been great resources and aides in my time here. However, there is something to be said for family. Family was the hardest thing I have ever had to leave. I have been blessed by bi-weekly skyping, countless emails and unending support. I go to sleep at night content with the knowledge that I have an amazing family to return to at the end of my service.

But, that end of service is still over a year away. Through the planning of Fr. Cav and the second-year JVIs, I have found an amazing local support system: my peneinei. The immediate family consists of Sother, Veronika, Vangelene, Evangelene, Ivangelene, Junior and K-Con. The spelling may be off, but Pohnpeian names are tricky like that. I was blessed to spend my Easter with all of them.

Wone (the village where my family lives) is hard to explain. It is a place of retreat, it is a place of confusion, it is a place to experience, it is the Pohnpei I dreamed of before I came to this island. In a lot of ways, it is my sanity. It is my place to go when live seems absurd. And there is plenty of that in my ministry here.

I have been blessed by a home away from home.

I spent a lot of time during March reviewing the Stations of the Cross with my 6th grade Religion class. I admit that our pamphlets cannot compare to the tradition in Wone. I joined more than one hundred other Pohnpeians on the street of Wone for a walking Stations of the Cross. We headed out Friday afternoon to start the trek. Luckily, one of my friends on island was there with his camera. Thanks for the photos Dana.



Pohnpeian harmonies and vocals filled the air as the sun reminded me how close it was to Micronesia. My palm joined that of my youngest host brother K-Con. I felt a sense of belonging that is hard to find when you are one of two white people in the village.


Good Friday Mass was followed by a "mehla" (funeral) for a neighboring infant who passed away. Sother, my host father, invited me to join him. "Different" cannot begin to describe the process for Pohnpeian funerals. For starters, they last 4 days. On the different days, family members and friends bring pigs, sakau, yam and some other items to represent their compassion and respect for local tradition.

I think it safe to say that I am an outgoing person. Throw me in the middle of a group of people that I don't know, and I "work the crowd." Not here. Not in Pohnpei. Especially not in Wone.

There has been a forced transition from outspoken to reserved. This transition has happened because of a simple but definite language barrier. And I think I like it. I sit for minutes, sometimes hours, at the nahs, a local meeting place for ceremonies, without talking to anyone. Yes, there are genuine head nods and big smiles. But, my language skills here are limited to discussions about work and if I am hungry or thirsty. It has almost become a nice break, a nice time to just sit and watch something unfold that I have never known. I wish it happened more often. Sometimes you just need to learn how to be quiet. That's just one of things my family has enabled me to learn.

The other things are very tangible: cutting grass, fishing, drinking sakau, cooking. I don't care how many hours I spent behind a Lawnboy in my mother's backyard, I was ill-prepared for local grass cutting. Instead of an engine driven blade under the lawnmower, the blade is a 14-inch machete swung at the base of indigenous plants. I was proud to be the swinger.

Unfortunately, I am not a very talented machetist (I made that one up). After every 10 swings, I would usually sink my machete into a rock. This create a symphony of swish, swish, swish, swish, DING, swish, swish, swish, swish, DING. Of course, the rest of the Pohnpeian men made comments I couldn't understand that they got some good laughs out of.

Later, that day, it was off to fishing off the island of Penio. Net fishing to be exact. Something, once again, I have no experience with. I sat my happy self in the boat just getting a sunburn. The same sunburn that led to the nickname "Pink Panther" at school. But at least I had a good excuse. Peneinei is hard to come by.

Out of Retirement

I remember seven months back, when I was packing for my journey into the Pacific. It was a challenge to only bring the essential things I thought I would need in Micronesia. Teaching materials, sunblock, antibiotics were first into my pack. Sandals were next. I was told those were the only "shoes" you need in Pohnpei. Then my size 10 Copa Mundial cleats caught the corner of my eye. I thought I probably wouldn't use them during my two-year tenure here, but I threw them in anyway. Shortly after coming to this little island, I found the International F.C. and the Pohnpei Premiere League. After 7 years of retirement from soccer in the U.S., I find myself back on the pitch in a place where soccer is in its developmental stages.

While the "organized" part of this organized league can be frustrating at times, I feel both honored and lucky to support soccer in a foreign country. My initial involvement in the league probably came from selfish reasons. I was searching for something familiar in a very unfamiliar place. I didn't know Micronesia, but I certainly knew soccer. I am very surprised to see how my knowledge of soccer has brought me closer and closer to the island, and the people on it.

During my short run in the Premiere League, relationships formed quickly and strongly with the Pohnpeian/Sri Lankan/Fijian/Australian players I was playing with. A lack of youth and a lack of attendance landed the International F.C. with a 4th place overall finish. I was happy to see the Island Pitbulls take down the Seventh Day Adventist boys in the final. Very happy (no offense SDA). Their mohawked captain, Dilshan Senarathgoda, approached me about practicing with some of the better players from the league. His demeanor didn't match his hair style. In a very calm, cool way, he simply asked, "Hey, Phil right? Some of the guys are getting together and practicing this week. You should come out." I did. And, it has been a happily-ever-after story since then. Well, if you don't count the shin splints, ankle sprains and tweaked knees. The pitch in Pohnpei is far from perfect, but it has been the best way for me to interact with locals my age.

After a few practices, I found out there was a more serious purpose to these Monday, Wednesday, Friday kick-abouts. These boys were trying to pick up an ugly legacy left by a former Pohnpei team and turn it into a new and improved Pohnpei State Soccer team. Coach Paul Watson is the head of this machine and has quite a task in front of him.

I have lived and worked on this small island for the last seven months. One of the first "cultural" things I learned is that the terms on time or schedule have lost all meaning. Thirty minutes late to a soccer match is still considered "on time" for most of the players out here. Now, imagine trying to get an entire squad to the field and ready to warm up at 5:30, three times a week! Not only is it frustrating, but it hinders the progression that Watson wants to see in his squad. Progression that started slow, but has rapidly gained momentum.

Wikipedia describes the team as such: "They mainly play international matches in Micronesia Games: in both editions they finished at the last place. They are yet to register a win, and some call the team the weakest football team in the world.

In June 2009 it was announced that English coaches Paul Watson and Matthew Conrad would be working with Pohnpei football legend Charles Musana to re-launch the Pohnpei State team and address the current absence of a Federated States of Micronesia side.

After a series of meetings between soccer chiefs on Pohnpei and FSM Olympic Committee head Jim Tobin, a new soccer task force including Peter Konings and Charles Musana was established charged with the task of rejuvenating football on the island.

The new coaching team of Paul Watson, Yafeth Konings, Dilshan Senarathgoda and Matthew Conrad are the youngest in the history of international football.

In August and September 2009, Pohnpei staged the Liberation Day Games Cup - its first official, organized club competition in many years. After the tournament's success, the Pohnpei Premier League was scheduled for October 2009."

With all that said, it has been an honor and a blessing for me to join the movement, experiment...whatever you want to label it. Just practicing with the guys is a means of catharsis after a long day in the classroom. Especially considering the personalities of the players:

It is a strange combination of humility, Betel nut, martial arts, swearing, friendship, inappropriate gestures, break dancing, kepit (local word for teasing), hard work, absenteeism (as I mentioned above). Through it all, I am impressed with the dedication. The one that has affected me the most (besides kepit) is the across-the-board acceptance. When I am on the field, I am obviously menwhi (foreigner). But the way the guys have welcomed me into their game and sometimes even their personal lives makes me feel like menpohnpei (from Pohnpei). This acceptance has even affected my life off the field. There have been many times when I share food, drink (sometimes too much) and conversation with the players and their families.

After a couple of months of practice and nights out on the town, Paul and Dilshan invited me to put on a blue jersey and take a permanent spot on the Pohnpei State team as a left midfielder. My immediate thought was "heck yes!" But keeping with Ignation tradition and JVI ideals, I needed to discern whether it would affect my ministry, my work and/or my community. Not only that, I had to think about the implications of a foreign volunteer (aka ME) representing an island nation.

I will be representing a state that I have only known for 8 months. I begin thinking about the JVI idea of "social justice" and how that would relate to my spot on the starting roster. But, it seems a bit too deep for this instance. The issue of "fairness" is what it came down to. Rodrigo, Micah, Bob, Robert: some of these players may be riding the bench for 45 minutes while I muscle my way down the left side of the field. The invitation to join the team was surprising and legitimate. Yes, I have spent as many hours on the pitch as each player. But, if we were to tally how many hours we have all spent in the Equatorial Pacific, I would certainly fall short. The deciding factor for me was this: Opportunity. By playing with this team, many things open up. My interaction with the community, my stress level dropping, my chance to teach something I have practiced for years (World History isn't one of those things), not to mention - my students think it is pretty "cool". The pros heavily outweigh the cons, and that's good enough for me.

I discerned, and I am very comfortable with my decision. In July, I'll be lacing up my boots and dawning the Pacific-blue jersey of the Pohnpei State Soccer team. I just hope that I can bring something to my teammates. Drills, experience, moves....maybe. Positivity, encouragement, mentoring...I certainly hope so. Conversely, I can't even begin to count the number of things I have learned and will learn from my teammates.

Ordinary Time

If you were to ask any of the women I've dated in my past, they can tell you that I am not the type of guy that celebrates anniversaries. Well, here I am at my 6-month anniversary of being a Jesuit Volunteer in the Equatorial Pacific, and I stuck with my old tradition. Samantha and I exchanged a simple "Hey, happy 6-month anniversary" over a hot bowl of oatmeal. It was nothing extraordinary. It seems as though my life has linked with the liturgical calendar. I have found myself smack dab in the middle of ordinary time.

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.
  

Outside of PCS:

• 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.
  

It is through teaching that we really start to know things.

Kasehlelie,

Mr. Philip

Humble Pie

Please do not be confused by this post's title. I will not be discussing the 1970s, British supergroup "Humble Pie." It was the simplest way to introduce two significant concepts that have touched my life in the last month. Humility and pie (well...food)

It seems like every day I am here, I am humbled by a new facet of Pohnepian life. Some of the more powerful experiences with humility have come my experiences with this island's landscape. I would describe it exactly like my students do. "One of a kind." I wish I could put into words what it's like to witness the endless, blue hues of the Pacific Ocean. Or the beauty of a sunset behind Sokeh's Ridge while perched on the Jesuit balcony. Or the breathtaking island trees we pass each and everyday to school. Sure, 3x5's may give you some idea. But to be here. To really "be" here and absorb what surrounds me everyday is humbling to say the least.


However, anyone tourist who steps off of a Continental flight and walks through the 14-foot long airport terminal would be humbled by these same things. I think it is a universal experience to be had. I think that the luster and amazement might begin to fade for someone with a more permanent position on island. (I sure hope that doesn't happen to me)

What won't fade are the ever-changing relationships I build from sun up to sun down. I will admit, I don't do a whole lot of building at 7 a.m. in our kitchen nook.

(I say "nook" in reference to the fact that when Samantha opens our refrigerator, the door hits the chair where Luke is sitting. If Luke scoots back to avoid the door, he will probably find himself getting in the way of Josephine doing the dishes. Josephine will instinctively scoot a few steps out the way to avoid the refrigerator door/Luke predicament. Unfortunately, her scoot probably landed her in the laundry room. Our nook has a lot of morning congestion.)

ANYWAY, mornings continue to be a struggle for me. But right when I step out of our front door, my day really starts. If I'm lucky, Irvin and his brother Billy will stop me at the bottom of the street. Irvin is a one of the most sincere, well-mannered children I have met. He is also constantly worried about the whereabouts of each JVI. He usually goes straight from "lehlia" (hello) to "Did you just come from work? Is Josephine still there? Oh ok. Samantha is already at your house. See you later." It is the perfect cure for a tough day...especially if I get roped into a game of jump-rope or a coloring contest.

It seems like a very "American" tendency to shy away from what we don't already know. For about 99% of the Pohnpeian people I have met, it is the exact opposite. People here are genuinely interested in who you are, how you are and why the hell you are here. It is comforting to see their eyes light up and the corners of their mouths curve upward when I say, "I'm a Jesuit Volunteer." For those faces that stay confused, I say "Peace Corps?" nervouslly, hoping it rings a more familiar bell. That will usually do the trick.

Back on track, back on track. Humility. Let me explain a weird quirk about Pohnpeian interaction. If you want to compliment someone on their clothing, never say, "Wow, I really like that shirt." That person will react in one of two different ways: 1) Go home. Wash aforementioned shirt. Deliver shirt to you as a gift the next day or 2) Take shirt off. Immediately deliver as a gift. They will give and give and give until they have nothing. In a non-traditional way of thinking, I think that makes these people and this culture inherently rich. Maybe not in Warren Buffet's opinion, but certainly in mine.

During the past month, three very humbling things have happened at Pohnpei Catholic School. The first came from a car wash. I know, I know. How can liquid soap and carnauba wax humble anyone? On this particular day, we were raising money for something close to my heart. Something that has been missing for 10 years at this school. A YEARBOOK. For the entire week leading up to this fateful Saturday, a pessimistic voice in my head kept nudging my common sense whispering, "Hey imbecile, it rains everyday in Kolonia. Who will want to get their car washed?" and "What, are you going to hold 50 car washes to pay for this thing? Good luck." Even if this voice had been right - the entire thing was worth it.

My coworkers felt more like friends. My students felt more like my kids. P.C.S felt like a family rather than just an educational institution. For this to happen because of a simple carwash made me feel like a small part of something bigger than anything I've been a part of. Not to mention, we raised over $1,100. No typographical errors here: OVER ELEVEN HUNDRED DOLLARS. If that's not one big slice of "humble pie," I don't know what is.

Just one week later was Thankgiving Day. This one day produced two of the most significant experiences I have had here:

1) Every year, students are asked to bring the "fruit of the land" on the morning of Thanksgiving. For most of you reading this, you may have some tomatos growing on a trellis in the backyard. It's a little different here. Before school even started, parents were helping their kids hoist yams bigger than my head into our Church. And the bananas....well, let's just say the Chiquita lady better watch her back. All of these exotic (well, exotic to me - completlely normal to everyone else) fruits are brought to the local hospital and jail as a sign of giving thanks for everything God has given us.

Admittedly, I have often thought of just how impoverished some areas of Pohnpei are. Some houses look unlivable, some children look unhealthy and some situations look unfortunate. I have felt empathy, sympathy, and all of those feelings that the well-off usually feel for the poor. Admittedly, I have often heard Bible stories explaining how the poor woman giving her last bit of bread is a greater sacrifice that the rich man offering his prize bull. I just don't feel like I bought into that idea until now.

We filled two flat-bed trucks to the brim with breadfruit, coconut, banana, yam, taro, sugar cane, mango, and plenty of other fruits I can neither remember nor pronounce. I began to understand Thanksgiving in a different way. We offered prayers and songs to the sick and incarcerated. Our gifts were simple - but our service to the community was certainly more than that. I watched very carefully as Joanna and Gaysha read Bible verses to inmates and as Joey offered a plate of fresh fruit to a bed-stricken woman. Those feelings of empathy and sympathy that I once felt were replaced by something completely different. They were replaced by the realization that I need to stop analyzing everything I see. I need to start absorbing it.


2) As we pass through this holiday season, I have come to realize one thing. Pohnpeians really embody this semi-popular phrase: Go big or go home. Pohnpeians go big. And if you think about it, I don't really have the option. One of the biggest blessing I (and all JVIs) have found here is a feeling of being welcome. This is especially true at the Pangelinan home. Eugene and Lynn regularly greet us in the morning and we spend many afternoons sharing stories with their children, Mark and Grace. I can count on Lynn for some motherly advice: "Philip. You need to start taking hot showers. Those boils look serious." Good idea Lynn. Eugene takes advice to the next level: "Hey Philip. No wonder Luke is the only one bringing a girlfriend out here." Thanks Eugene. Mark, their 14-year-old, joins us on the basketball court each week and will soon be swatting all of my jump shots. Grace is always keeping her older brother in line with a quick smack on his arm. I can't help but give her candy (or whatever she wants) whenever I see her. As you can tell, this family is more than just our neighbors.

They invited us over for an amazing spread of food. No, I was not eating dog and SPAM. All of the traditional fixins: turkey, ham, mash potatos and gravy. Desert was a little different. I forced down some sakau that I had pounded earlier. Pounding the roots of a pepper plant is harder than it looks. I don't know if I would be able to hack it at a market. Actually, I know I couldn't.

They had plenty of desert: Cakes, apple crisp, all of my favorites. I was just a little too full from all the humble pie. (What a cheesy ending. I'll try to avoid that on the next post)


Happy Holidays to all and to all a pwong mwahu (good night) !

P.S. Here is a list of things I have experienced but do not have time to explain right now:
-Centipede bite on the head
-Hunting rats in Josephine's room. I should have mounted the 11-incher I got in November
-Spear fishing by the island of Napali
-Pohnpei State Soccer league (www.pohnpeisoccer.com)

Choosing simple

So it has been about 3 months. It certainly doesn't feel it, but I can't argue with my calendar.

Let me start with one of my favorite quotes from Bright Eyes: "The world's got me dizzy again, you'd think after 22 years, I'd be used to the spin." Not only is that quote timely in my life considering my age, but it can help me explain how interesting life has been here.

I will admit, the pacing of Micronesian culture is much slower than that of the U.S. (which is a huge blessing after my senior year in Missouri's journalism school). But, the life of a JVI does have the potential to make your head spin.

I think it is a natural inclination of a Jesuit Volunteer to do absolutely everything that is asked of them while in their country. Can you help with this committee? lead this project? read during this Mass? "ABSOLUTELY, I WOULD LOVE TO" is the only thing I can say - because I want to. All of a sudden, my weeks and weekends are booked solid.

Weekday classes, tutor sessions, spirituality night, community night, soccer with the International F.C.(one of my favorites), Xavier Prep, Catechism youth group, International community mass. With all of that going on, I am afraid I will forget to take a look around and really soak in the work I am doing for Pohnpei Catholic School and the larger community. One of the four pillars the JVI lifestyle that I have been struggling with is living simply.

Simple living is very hard to define. Does it mean living within a stipend, washing clothes by hand or taking ice cold showers every morning? Yes...but it's so much more than that. When I first learned that I would be headed to Micronesia, I envisioned a very basic lifestyle that I would simply adapt to. Maybe a shack on an outer island or river showers in the jungle...not air conditioning and high speed internet. Here in Pohnpei, westernization is very apparent. Besides a couple niceties, it is very similar to a rural city in the states. The idea of living simply, therefore, becomes a choice. The focus moves off of the "I have to..." to the "I should..." That has been my biggest struggle so far.

So how does this choice, then, affect my busy lifestyle?

Samantha, Josephine and I just got back from climbing Sokehs Rock last night. We took off right after the school bell rang and got to climbing while there was still day light. While spending the night atop the rock, discussion ranged from ghost stories (to make Sam mad) to our lives as JVIs.


Jo made a very interesting point. Living simply can certainly refer to our schedules and how hard we work ourselves. Sometimes, we need a breather. For us, it was climbing Sokehs Rock. I think, in a very similar way, that was what Tarantino was for me...a breather. Something to help me get by.

I will continue to ponder these things, as I always do, but I will leave you with a list of interesting things that I have experienced recently:
-2800 pages of Stephanie Meyer's "Twilight" series. I should have never read the first one, because then I was "invested."
-Very, very interesting Spelling sentences from my eighth graders. For example, the word "imagine" was used as follows: "I imagined Mr. Philip in a Speedo. (no offense Mr. Philip)"
-Pohnpeian children singing "America" as pass them on the way to work in the morning.
-The Flamingo (oh goodness)
-Sashimi (sushi Pohnpei style). Suprisingly, I love it.
-Monday night soccer league (www.pohnpeisoccer.com)

Oh yeah, some pictures from around town: #1 - My classroom #2 - The Jesuit House

So many activities

Charter Day Games, the Rusty Anchor, the Carbuncle Challenge: For most of you, these activities don't sound all that familiar. I would have said the same about 6 weeks ago.

This past Friday, Pohnpei Catholic School had its annual Charter Day Games. "Charter" refers to when the school got its Charter and became the school that it is today. Essentially, it is a field day for teachers, students and parents. Each team has a coach, usually a home room teacher. I drew the green team (which worked out very well considering I had a green bandana, green soccer socks and plenty of green shirts). I knew that even if our team wasn't stacked with the best athletes, I wanted to be competitive with our team spirit.

This was accomplished with a very simple substance. Green finger paint. We made Mel Gibson proud with our war paint and determination. I went with the classic "Macho Man Randy Savage" paint job which sparked a very intelligent discussion (between myself, Samantha and Luke) on the state of the World Wrestling Federation in the early 1990s. Essentially, it was phenomenal and left us all missing Generation X, Val Venus and the McMahon family.

ANYWAY, back to the Charter Day Games. The kids loved the face paint. Ms. Josephine (my housemate) was the coach for the yellow team. Historically, the yellow team is the worst one to be one. I forget the Pohnpean phrase, but the team is known as "the short bus." It holds the same meaning as it does it in the States...so that was Jo's team. She tried to make it better by saying they were the "Transformers" team. I don't think she convinced anyone.

The events covered games like a treasure hunt, musical chairs, 50m/100m races, three-legged race, etc. I have to admit, the green team was not looking good. By lunch, we were dead last. I started getting looks from my team that read, "Face paint is great and all...but are we ever going to win an event?" Yes, the most important one in fact.


As Luke would say, we "beasted it" in the tug-of-war. Out of 8 games, we were only defeated once - by the stacked blue team I believe. I still have the rope burn to prove how much I wanted our team to take the event. Our record was good enough to take down first place in the event. However, we only got bumped up to fourth place. No podium spot for us. I've never liked this phrase, but "there's always next year." It was a great success overall.

I think the games were so enjoyable because of Micronesian's cultural emphasis on enjoyment over competition. Everyone was a winner that day - and the kids really only care if they are having a great time. Even the short bus team had a good day after we handed it to them in the tug-of-war (man, I'm too competitive).

The Rusty Anchor - the one spot on the island that makes me forget I am 7500 miles from home. Why, you may ask. Anytime I am surrounded by white people and Tom Petty cover songs, I assume I am in one of the may dive bars int the Midwest. The band, "Wetter than Seattle" had quite a dynamic sound. I have never heard "American Girl" (Petty) followed by a Killers song. Needless to say, it was phenomenal. The only thing that could have made it better would have been to see Megan Hendricks with a microphone in hand. Maybe at Re-O/Dis-O?

It was a very entertaining night. I have to say though, I really don't miss the loud, obnoxious bar scene at all. I felt out of place in a setting that I loved just 2 months ago. How quickly things can change.

The last activity - titled "the Carbuncle Challenge" has been an ongoing activity ever since I arrived in Pohnpei. I realize that by sharing my stories of boils in a public setting, I am forfeiting any dates that may have been coming my way in the future. Oh well - my boil count is approximately at 4. I will only expand on the ones that are interesting.

As more and more JVs volunteer in exotic climates, it seems like boils get more and more nicknames. For example, I have already had a "Watson" and hopefully will never get a "Hendricks." I feel like I have a new term to introduce to the boil world. The "Prouhet." A multi-headed boil located on the head. For me specifically, my left temple. My most recent one was on my knee and kept me up hours and hours while trying to sleep. I had plenty of time to listen to our cats chasing the rats in our ceiling. I just picture a classic Tom and Jerry episode happening directly over my head.

So yeah, so many activities happening lately. I can see why Luke and Jo say that time really flies when school is in session. I would love to keep going, but progress reports are due tomorrow and I need to get on it. Kaselel till next post!

A Teacher's Tale

So I am borrowing the title of this week's post from the latest edition of the Micronesian Counselor. It is a short, monthly publication produced by Micronesian Seminar. Here is a little "about me" paragraph from their website:

"Micronesian Seminar, known popularly as MicSem, is a private non-profit, non-governmental organization that has been engaged in public education for thirty years. Our purpose is to assist the people of Micronesia in reflecting on life in their islands under the impact of change in recent years."

So this week, it a short story about the experiences of a young teacher, fresh out of college, heading to a remote island to teach Micronesian children. (Sound familiar?) The article, written by Fr. Francis Hezel, SJ, explores many different elements of an American volunteer's experiences with the new island culture and his new role as teacher.

So here are some of mine...

My experience with elementary teaching can be described as "limited." During my spring breaks from 2007-2009, I have spent time teaching children in New Mexico and New York City. These alternative spring breaks opened my eyes to a world I had never seen. I was able to realize how many sociological and structural injustices are affecting the education of youth worldwide. I witnessed first-hand a system that was failing many of its students.

I feel like, in many ways, those experiences on the West and East coasts landed me here in Pohnpei...teaching my 20 students each day. The ultimate goal being...improve the quality of life for each unique student.

This improvement can come in a variety of ways...improved comprehension skills, more responsibility for one's work, increase in self-esteem, ways that I can't even predict.

My biggest fear - I fall into the teacher trap of waking up each morning, walking to school and merely lecturing at my students. I have heard stories of teacher's easily losing that fire, that motivation that drive that they started the school year with.

I am a month in...and it is hard to describe exactly how I feel. One thing I know for sure, it's not as easy as it looks. I have always thought it would be pretty simple to teach a lesson, give a quiz and grade it. I am quickly finding out how wrong I was. It consumes so much energy - so much effort. And my main source of energy is my students. I am always relieved to see eager hands raising into the air to answer the question (usually they forget the hand part). I have been ever impressed by their motivation to improve their own lives so that they might be able to help their family.

But, as any teacher out there knows. There are tough days, tough students, tough lessons. While I am passing out quizzes and exams, I am constantly testing myself. Does this lesson involve the students? How can I incorporate their culture into lessons to give it some context? How is being American negatively/positively affecting my ability to relate to my kids? Is my method for discipline working well? Why exactly am I here in Micronesia?

The answers to those questions are changing with every new experience and interaction with my community and my classroom.

I realize that I my strengths and weaknesses as a teacher. I also know that I need to recognize those in order to address the strengths and weaknesses of my students. That is what I will "learn" over the next two years.

Each day, I delve into Pre-Algebra, World History, Language, Literature, Spelling, Religion and Activity periods. It makes for a full day. Soon enough, I will be starting the PCS Yearbook with the help of my eighth graders. We just recently finished our first all-school Mass. The 8th grade class was in charge of that one: kind of stressful to take on as the newbie teacher, but it went very well.

We drove home Sister Elerina's theme of "Jesus is the Light of the World." One of the 6th graders even came up and explained, "Mr. Philip. You have really good 8th graders. Really good." I am glad they are positive role models for the school. But, I am hoping for more than "good" this semester. There are plenty of adjectives out there to top it, and I just hope I can move my entire class in that direction. Including myself.

Do not train a child to learn by force or harshness; but direct them to it by what amuses their minds, so that you may be better able to discover with accuracy the peculiar bent of the genius of each. ~Plato