eight bananas a day keeps the doctor away

I can’t believe that I’m already halfway through my fifth week as a high school teacher.  It’s almost too weird to even type that.  Not too long ago, my only obligations involved studying for classes (gossiping with friends in the library), working night-shifts at the hospital (oftentimes getting paid to do the studying I ignored in the library), and waking up before 1 pm on Saturdays.  This is what many people have told me were the “good ol’ days.”  I can see why they would say that – the work I have been doing recently has been tireless, full of responsibility, and if you have an “off” day, you get eaten alive.  With that said, I think there is plenty of the good ol’ days present in my day-to-day lifestyle in Pohnpei; as the wise philosopher Drake once said, “I’m looking forward to the memories of right now.”  When we haven’t been in class, Gabrielle and I have been able to do some pretty incredible things and it’s just getting better and better (not that class hasn’t, but days off are a treasured thing). 

Shaving coconuts in our front yard.  We tried making coconut milk but needless to say, we still have a bit to learn.

Me with some bananas that I got from the backyard.  I learned that banana trees only reproduce once, so when you want to get the fruit, you just cut the whole tree down.  This particular kind of banana is originally from Chuuk and is not very sweet.  They are better for frying.

 On Monday of last week, the Federated States of Micronesia celebrated Liberation Day.  Nobody is quite sure who they were liberated from, but hell, it’s a day off so let’s fire up the barbecues and get liberated!  On top of that, we didn’t have school on Tuesday because it was a PTO meeting day.  So, this was the perfect four day weekend to really get involved and have a blast in Kitti – we didn’t even come into Kolonia to resupply and go out with the other WorldTeachers.  Ironically, this was our most low key weekend we’ve had so far.  I was able to read two entire books in these four days; there was just nothing going on!  Granted, we went out with some local friends to a sakau market on Friday night and to the Lan Pai Pohn waterfall on Sunday, but for the whole rest of the time, I feel like we didn’t see any other human beings.  We had the chance to go to a potentially awesome all-day church festival on Sunday, but because we had made prior plans to hike to the waterfall, we weren’t able to attend.  The waterfall hike ended up taking around two hours and is right by our house (so we can go there anytime), and we were left shaking our heads at our bad planning.  Now that I’ve seen how Pohnpeians celebrate, I don’t think I’ll ever double-book a Sunday or feast day ever again.  

The waterfall by our house that we visited on Sunday.  There didn't seem to be a good way to get back up to the top, so we didn't jump off.

 So far, our most profound experiences have taken place on the weekdays (when we have the least amount of free time to afford it).  Yesterday, Monday afternoon, we were invited to a funeral for a coworker’s cousin.   When we arrived, I was expecting to walk into a somber, melancholy atmosphere and instead, I was greeted by maybe a hundred people eating, smoking, laughing, and drinking around the Nahs or the outdoor patio area.  I am slowly getting used to the feeling of “walking the gauntlet” when we arrive at a new place – heads turn, people stare, and every once in a while you hear the Pohnpeian word for “white person” thrown into a conversation (there are about three of us total in Kipar, Kitti).  Although this is unnerving at first, Pohnpeians are quick to make you feel welcome.  Seating in the Nahs is by invitation only, and almost as soon as we got there, the high-titled man presiding over the ceremony made sure that we had a seat inside.  We had arrived on the third day of this four day funeral and apparently it was “fish day.”  Indeed, I noticed that every new person to show up would deposit his catch of the day in a growing pile of sea-life.  For four hours, Gabrielle was on my left, a dead turtle on my right, and I watched hundreds of fish of various shapes, sizes, and colors get heaped into a pile that became almost eye-level.  There were four separate stones where men were pounding sakau, and we were continually offered this kava in addition to all the food we could eat.  I would have felt like a true Pohnpeian if I were able to understand any of the speeches that were occasionally belted out over the uproar.  

The fish that were given to us at the funeral.  The next day, we cooked the one on the left.  It's an interesting process to gut a fish when you have no idea what you are doing...I learned quite a bit of anatomy.

After some time, it was finally time to leave and Gabrielle reluctantly left our seats to return home to our life of lesson planning and grading.  Before we could go, we were given three woven baskets filled with various foods, a coconut, a pineapple, and four freshly caught reef fish.  I could not believe that we were included in the distribution of food at a funeral for a woman we did not know especially after showing up unannounced and unexpectedly.  I have never felt so welcomed in my life - even when I look and act so different from the people around me.  Next time, I am definitely bringing a donation of food with me so that I can be a better guest to such generous hosts.  With luck, I will be able to learn how to spearfish and I will be able to provide a suitable and worthwhile contribution.  Until then, I’ll have to keep pestering my local friends to take me out on the boat and teach me their ways!  Who knows what the next long weekend has in store for me…

A mwaramwar made of sour cherries is on the left; they are given to guests and attendees of festivals and are worn on the head.  (The nice thing about this mwaramwar is that it's edible!  It tastes decent when dipped in salt).  One of our three food baskets from the funeral is on the right.

Uht soukasouk piaia (ooch sook-a-sook pee-ay-a) - I'm not certain that's the correct spelling, but it's the name of my favorite thing to eat here.  It's pounded banana that they warm up and cover with freshly made coconut milk.  Not infrequently, our neighbors will stop by with a plate.  Between this kind of dessert and the bananas we have in our entrance-way, I have about 8 uht, or bananas, every day.

internet????

I feel like every time I write a blog post or send a letter, I have to apologize for how long it has taken me to do so.  Gosh – it’s 2011 – you’d think there would be wifi and reliable high speed internet in all developing countries by now!  Allegedly, Pohnpei has these things.  But, after my drawn-out and circuitous struggle to procure a simple dial-up connection in my home, I have started to doubt the claims.  I’m not really in a place to complain about such trivial matters when there are other things much more pressing to the Pohnpeian people (and to myself); but seriously, can I please just make one phone call to my mother so that we can have the following conversation?

Me: “Hi Mom, I cannot believe how difficult teaching is, how the heck do you make it look so easy?”

Mom: “That’s the first thing you say after a month of not calling me??  I love and missed you too…  Anyways Scott, it comes from many years of trial and error and learning from your mistakes!”

Me: “Okay but I am here for one year, so how can I make it easy sooner rather than later?”

Mom: “Well, you could try sucking it up.”

Me: “So you’re saying that the magical solution I am looking for is time and experience?”

Mom: “Either that or a magical assistant who does all of your lesson planning, prep-work, instruction, grading, and end-of-the-day foot massages.”

Me: “Do you think you could send some money so I can pay Gabrielle to do that?”

Or maybe something like that (for the record, my mom is a sweet caring lady who would have provided much more empathetic responses).  The point is, I have at my disposal a veteran teacher who loves me and is willing – nay, wants – to help me, and I can’t talk to her about my first three weeks of school because telecom won’t press the one button that delivers internet to my modem.  For some reason, I have it in my head that all it takes to activate the internet is the click of a mouse, and there’s a guy sitting in his chair – next to said mouse – laughing manically as he watches me through his hidden camera while I frantically restart my modem a dozen times in a row.  If you are reading this right now, it’s because this mysterious man has relented and granted me mercy.  If you are out there, mysterious man, thank you. 

As I write this, I have a pulse.  For this reason, I am fairly certain that I have survived the first two and a half weeks of school.  I’m being dramatic – it wasn’t that bad.  Although I now understand my mom’s exhaustion at the end of a long work day, I think that teaching in Pohnpei is very rewarding and I dare say, fun.  At the last minute, I received an extra class so I now have upper level Algebra I and Geometry classes, and a lower level Algebra I.  The hardest part of this arrangement is that I have to create three unique 90 minute lessons for each day.  Making them informative, helpful, engaging, interesting, easy to understand, unique, and beneficial for an extremely multi-level class is the other hardest part.  But the students couldn’t be better and they are way smarter than anyone gives them credit for.  I can’t speak for their English skills (you can read Gabrielle’s blog if you’re looking for that), but they have a solid foundation of most math topics, so about 40% of what I have been doing is refreshing and reviewing.  

Nanpei Memorial High School.  My classroom is behind the baseball backstop on the left side of the photo.  The cafeteria is the building to the right.  Although the large tree is blocking the view of the mountains, the school is tucked away in a simply breathtaking natural environment.

Our classrooms!  It is a two room building that is used by the WorldTeach volunteers every year.

Gabrielle and I outside of my classroom.  Gabrielle's classroom is right down the "hall" to the right.  The windows/walls are made from mesh so it's a surprisingly well ventilated room!  By well-ventilated, I mean that sometimes I actually don't sweat while I'm teaching.

Sometimes I think it would actually be easier if my students were worse at math because then I could go step by step with the book and build the foundation myself.  As it is now, they are extremely fluent in some topics that you wouldn’t expect, and extremely deficient in other topics that you would assume they know.  This makes my job more difficult because I have to parse through the material to find the things that they need to know and skip what they already know.  In other words, to continue with the house metaphor, I have had to fill in large gaps of the “foundation” that were never built while skipping over parts of the house that were apparently already built.  It’s all very frustrating.  In one class period, I could have my students bored to tears because they’ve seen the material 50 times to being completely overwhelmed by new information.  The ranges of both math proficiency and English proficiency create a staggering achievement gap in my classes and thus a huge challenge for me as I try to move the entire class forward.  In some cases, there are students who have neither the foundation NOR the house and are sort of left in the dust trying to catch up.  Interestingly, my most difficult class to teach is also my highest level class because despite pre-tests and assessments, I have no idea what they already know.  Sometimes they astound me with their aptitude and other times they bewilder me with their misunderstanding.

My classroom!  Sans students.  Those walls used to be white!

 I could go on endlessly about classes but I’ll have plenty of time throughout the year for that.  The only reason I have time to write right now is because water outages were responsible for cancelling school early today.  Apparently, these things are a common occurrence.  I thought that a run would be a great way to occupy myself during the extra free time but I neglected to think about my need for a shower afterwards.  Like I said: water outages.  Due to a generous offer from a non-WT volunteer living down the road, I was able to use a local river for a bath.  I wish I could describe how it felt to be standing completely alone in a stream, in a jungle, naked, in the blackness of the night, and rinsing the Pantene out of my hair with a bucket.  It is such a surreal yet calming thing to do.  For the 100^th time this month I asked myself, how the hell did I get a chance to do something like this?  And that’s what makes it all worth it.  

A stormy sunset at Seinwar Elementary School.  In the distance you can see some construction equipment seemingly floating in the water.  On the right, the bluriness is rainfall over the reef.

 For those of you who have sent me mail, email, packages, or messages, THANK YOU so much and I promise I will get back to you as soon as I can.  I have not forgotten about you, and I’m sorry if you thought I was being distant.  I am only distant in the physical sense.  I will do my best to give you the responses you deserve!!