worth the wait

It’s a little late but I hope that you have all had a wonderful Thanksgiving!  Without all the cold weather and runners getting ready for the Turkey Trot, the holiday almost snuck right by me unnoticed.  But, Gabrielle and I were able to make the most out of the day with some help from Ma and Pa Perkins who sent a couple packages with some essential Thanksgiving items like canned turkey, canned sweet potatoes, and canned gravy.  And I’m not being facetious – that’s some seriously upscale living.  I’m sad I wasn’t able to be home with the family but it was a great day and a lot of my students wished me Happy Thanksgiving even though I’m pretty sure they don’t know what the holiday is.  What am I thankful for?  Obviously my parents for being amazing and generous, Gabrielle for putting up with Morning Scott, and lastly the rat poison that my 8^th grade neighbor gave me.  Hopefully now I won’t have to worry about all the lentils mysteriously disappearing from the top of the fridge.  

Our Thanksgiving feast.  Canned turkey mixed with stuffing, cucumber onion salad, marshmallow sweet potatoes, and cranberry sauce!

 I’m also thankful for being able to do what I’ve wanted to do since before I came to Pohnpei – spearfish.  About three weeks ago, Tony, a friend from church and father of one of my students, took me to a local craftsman who sold me a handmade speargun for just $35.  Since then, my no-ocean blues have gone away and I’ve managed to make it out to the water at least once a week.  Whether on a boat or off the reef of Nahlap Island, I have been and will be having ample opportunities to do some serious fishing.  My first time out on the boat with Tony and his wife was amazing.  Not knowing anything about spearfishing or really, fishing in general, I had a lot to learn. 

Tony taking me out on his boat on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

It turns out that all the good fish like to hide out and swim along the coral reefs surrounding much of Pohnpei.  And since these fish are a lot smarter than people give them credit for, it’s all about patience.  I learned that the best way to catch these guys is to swim down until you’re about 30-50 feet underwater (or whatever is deep enough to make you question yourself), grab onto a piece of coral, and just wait.  Usually, when you dive down, you scare all the surrounding fish into their hiding places, but after you wait for a little while, their curiosity drives them out of the coral and back towards you to investigate.  After expending the energy to get to that depth, I would say I have a lung capacity of about 30 seconds.  Hopefully, that is enough time to wait for a fish to get close enough and release the spear.  The most disheartening thing to happen is when you wait this long for a real beautiful fish, your lungs are screaming and your muscles are aching, you get a perfect opportunity, aim, shoot, and miss.  The biggest fish I’ve speared was so deep that the surface of the water looked a like a distant memory shimmering above me.  I speared it high – a little below its fin – and as I was bringing it to the surface, it ripped itself from my spear and darted away.  The water muffled my scream of frustration but if you could read those air bubbles, they would have been filled with four-letter words. 

Lurking behind some coral.  Believe it or not, this is the cloudiest I have ever seen the water here.

On a different day, when we went fishing during a thunderstorm.  The visibility under the water was maybe two or three times the visibility in the air - which was a really interesting experience.  The black dot in the center is the top of my head.

The fish that Tony and I did catch went to his wife who stayed up on the boat line-fishing – she was much more successful than either of us.   One thing I’ve learned here is that Pohnpeians like their fish fresh.  By fresh, I mean that Tony’s wife scaled them and gave them back to us to eat raw off the bone.  We went back to the boat to take a break and we’d eat the fish that had been swimming beside us in the ocean only ten minutes before.  It’s kind of like a jacked-up version of sushi where you don’t bother with the rice, seaweed, cucumber, or preparation of any sort at all.  Add it to the list of weird things I’ll happily eat.

My first catch of the day, ready to eat!

 Recently, I also got to get up close and personal with my competition.  Off the dock of Nahlap, I was having a particularly bad day fishing when I spotted a huge school of reef fish in close range.  Excitedly, I maneuvered through some coral structures to sneak up on them.  Right as I was almost close enough to take aim, a 4 foot flash of silver streaked across my path and stopped my progress immediately.  I guess I made a pretty enthusiastic 180 degree turn because when I surfaced, the local guy I was with couldn’t stop laughing.  It was hard for me to have a similar sense of humor after getting a “friendly” hello from Mr. Shark.  Some of my fears were assuaged when I saw the same shark an hour or so later and nothing bad happened.  My school counselor said that their bites are accidental and that they don’t really like the taste of people - so I guess that counts for something.  I wonder what you have to be doing for a shark to accidentally bite you…

Gabrielle in the shark-infested waters of Nahlap Island.  I think it's worth it :)

Getting a gun has gotten me all sorts of awesome offers though – I have plans with my neighbor to go out to the reef after school tomorrow.  It should be a great way to unwind after a long, hot day in the classroom.  Life is good. 

no reservations

When someone travels to a foreign country, the first question many people ask is: “What was the food like?” Because I now feel like I have been here long enough (4 months!!) to have an adequate grasp on this part of the culture, I’ll try to answer it to the best of my ability.  Generally, food in Pohnpei is grouped into two categories: local food and imported food.  I could go into great depth about the motivations and implications for eating one food or the other but I’ll just focus on the foods that are different from what you would encounter in the United States – and ones that I have good pictures for.  Be warned though, I made no attempt to censor myself!

Bananas: They come in many varieties, shapes, sizes, and they are as plentiful as water.  In fact, if you were to actually purchase a bushel of bananas here, it would cost you around 60 cents.  The absolute best kind of banana I’ve ever had in my life is the Uht en Guam (translated as: bananas from Guam).  They are about a third of the length of a normal banana and less thick.  While they definitely have a banana flavor, you almost can’t recognize them as such because they are so sweet.  Gabrielle has made me banana pancakes with this variety and it makes me feel like I’m having dessert for breakfast.  The best part is that – like candy – they are fun-sized, so you don’t feel guilty downing five or six of them in one sitting.

The bananas to the far left are the Uht en Guam.  They make for a much better snack than a bag of chips.  In the foreground is the remains of a local oven, or uhm, made from red hot rocks and banana leaves.

 The other kind of banana appeals to the immature side of me.  The Karat banana is known for its abundance of Vitamin A and soft texture.  When pronounced quickly and without rolling the ‘r,’ it sounds like “crotch” banana.  The Karat banana has fueled more penis jokes than Anthony Weiner himself at the height of his Twitter scandal and would make you doubt that WorldTeach consists of actual college graduates.  There is an abundance of “Go Karat” bumper stickers around Pohnpei that are supposed to encourage eating local food but instead they just encourage me to make childish remarks.

This is me holding my Karat banana (haha) but you can see that it has a leathery red peel and a soft orange center that you eat with a spoon.  Very delicious!

 Pig: Pigs, or pwihk (pweek), are a delicacy and are usually only served at large festivals, fundraisers, or Komedipws (parties honoring the traditional chiefs).  Unfortunately, I have yet to see a respectable piece of bacon served to me, but rather, pork is presented in all its glory with attached bones, tendons, fat, and hairy pig skin.  To prepare them for the feast, pigs are stabbed in the heart with a machete, organs are pulled out, and the meat is quartered after the children are finished playing with the carcasses.  Pohnpeians would seriously make great anatomists or surgeons because of all their experience throughout their life with pig bodies. 

At a komedipw.  You can only see a few pig carcasses, but there are about 15 or so pigs behind it with children also playing in them.

Some of my favorite dudes playing with pig hearts.  Completely normal.

 The majority of people here raise pigs on their property and if they don’t eat them, are able to sell them for anywhere from a couple hundred to over a thousand dollars.  While I was stuffing myself at lunch one day, Gabrielle was discussing with a friend what people usually do with leftovers.  He said that Pohnpeians usually just give it to their pigs in order to fatten them up; Gabrielle responded that she does the same exact thing with the pig she has at home (referring, of course, to me).  Our friend did not catch on to this and we led him on a merry conversation that ended with him suggesting that we could get four to five hundred dollars for our 185 lb pig that lives in the house with Gabrielle and that he would be willing to buy it.  Tempting as the extra money would be, I did not feel like moving out of the house and living in a pen.

A freshly slaughtered pwihk.  This one would probably sell for several hundred dollars if it was not being presented to the Kitti Nahnmwarki as a gift.

 Dog: Like other Asian countries that eat what we consider to be household pets, Pohnpeians also think of dogs as a delicacy.  However, the consumption of dog is more reactionary than it is planned out for a party or celebration.  For instance, Gabrielle went on a run one day to find herself being chased by a vicious dog that crossed paths with her.  Before she could defend herself, a zorro-like figure jumped out of the woods and stabbed the dog in the stomach with a machete.  To emphasize the ruthlessness of these animals, the dog CONTINUED to bark at her while it was impaled with a 3 foot knife.  Needless to say, this man was definitely eating well that night. 

In Pohnpei, I think of dogs as just being big squirrels; no one pets them, feeds them, or even notices them, but they still find a way of ruining your picnic.  They are a nuisance that chase me down the road when I run and wake me up with their barking when I’m sleeping at night.  When I was in Kolonia, I used to half-wish that the dog barking outside my window would bite me so that I would have an excuse to put the damn thing to rest.  If you’re interested, dog meat is like dark chicken meat and tastes even better with a side of vengeance.  

To the dog lovers: I am sincerely sorry, but I couldn't resist.  Gabrielle tapped me on the shoulder with this after we finished eating dinner at church one night - definitely didn't see that one coming!

 I was planning on writing about more foods but these three seemed to have occupied me pretty well.  I will make a food blog Part II some other time to describe the rest of Pohnpei’s culinary characteristics.  I hope you’re all doing well and eatin’ good back home!

a slippery situation

You would think that in my abundance of free time in the past week, I would have been able to write a decent blog entry.  Perhaps it was an issue with a lack of will rather than a lack of time.  Two weeks ago, on the first day of a four day weekend, I managed to completely de-skin the balls of my feet during an entirely innocent relay race.  Since I am a determined competitor and also a useless one while wearing flip-flops, I decided to go barefoot on the hot track where the race was being held.  I sprinted off the starting line alongside my coworkers and fellow competitors, got to the first cone, went to turn around, and slipped out of my skin.  Unknowingly, I finished the race before I looked down and noticed the shredded tires I was rolling on.  Although I have had many people very unhelpfully tell me, “Ya know, you should wear shoes when you run,” I think it was a pretty innocent mistake.  Plenty of other people were running barefoot at the race and the same thing even happened to a local lady – albeit, to a lesser extent – even though Pohnpeian feet are reportedly indestructible.

As someone who wants to eventually practice medicine in a developing country, the following experience was enlightening.  I got rushed to the ER by none less than the Director of Secondary Education himself while he swerved past traffic and tested the endurance of his car horn.  In order to avoid potential amputation at the state-run hospital, we went to the private hospital and I experienced what I imagine to be a similar sort of pain.  Without introduction, a doctor with an unconvincing toupee proceeded to clean my feet, cut the flaps of skin off, disinfect my wounds, and dress them.  Needless to say, the hospital bed was soaked with sweat and my voice hoarse from screaming into the pillow.  My only regret is that we didn’t record some of it to play outside for trick-or-treaters on Halloween.  After a mere twenty minutes, I was dispatched from the hospital with antibiotics, pain-relievers the equivalent of ibuprofen, and no way to move myself around except my hands and knees.  Luckily, after some asking around, I was able to procure a wheelchair and some higher-quality pain-killers in order to make the next week a little more bearable. 

To say that having to wheel myself around Pohnpei was inconvenient would be an understatement.  Likewise, I imagine that it was not fun for Gabrielle and Kate who provided for almost every one of my basic needs while I was in town.  And then afterwards at home, when it was just Gabrielle - cooking dinner, washing dishes, washing my clothes (by hand), and going to school by herself while I sat at home and did fun things like read books and watch movies.  I can’t describe how much I owe to her, but I am determined to make it up to her in some way or another now that I can finally walk again.  I’ve also gained a new perspective on what it is like to be disabled, helpless, and useless and it was definitely a humbling experience in all of those regards.  Sitting in a wheelchair is no way to be forced to go through life and I will always empathize with people in that situation.

This was my first week back at school and everyone has been incredibly helpful and considerate.  I’m pretty much back to normal now, but I appreciate the concern everyone has shown – you guys are the best!  I am certainly looking forward to making up for lost time this weekend though.  The wife and I have a trip planned for Saturday where we will hopefully kayak from Nahlap Island to Black Coral Island nearby.  Don’t google those places unless you want to feel an overwhelming urge to come visit me J  Be safe in the snow!!

At Cupid's Restaurant for Emily's birthday dinner the night of the accident.  I learned that drunk people think it is funny to push you around if you're in a wheelchair.

Me with some neighborhood kids who came to visit.  I was able to go outside because it didn't rain that day, but I sure would have liked to have a pair of off-road wheels.

My new skin about a week and a half afterwards!

good things come in sixes

More often than not, when you make plans in Pohnpei, they will fall through – it’s just a fact of life.  In fact, in only the past three weekends, I have been promised a trip to the jungle to plant sakau, a fishing trip, and another trip to the jungle to plant yams.  Despite sincere assurances that all of these things would happen, none of them has occurred yet.  So, when an opportunity to go on the “six-waterfall hike” presented itself, I was again resigned to sit at home correcting papers and feeling sorry for myself.  Even if the hike did indeed take place, we didn’t even have a ride to the trailhead, so things were looking pretty bleak.  We decided to give it a shot anyway and started walking along the main road on Sunday morning hoping for a ride.  To my surprise, the very first car that came by not only picked us up but was headed to the exact village that we needed to get to.  It seemed fate was on our side that day. 

We met the other hikers at the trailhead in Salapwuk (Sala-pook), a village tucked high up in the mountains and relatively far from the main road.  Unfortunately, it was such a rainy day that there was no view of the ocean (a cherished sight for someone living in Kitti) even though the village has a great vantage point.  After a few short introductions, we paid some locals for permission to cross their property and headed off into the jungle in search of the famous six waterfalls. 

Most of the hike followed a main river which we either hiked adjacent to, across, or just straight up against the current.  This meant that the majority of the time we were either bushwhacking or stepping over dangerously slimy river rocks (I think only one person out of 18 made it the whole day without falling and clearly he is an anomaly).  The river itself is nestled between incredibly steep and densely forested mountains which shut you off from the rest of the world.  Every once in a while, there would be another river which emptied into the one we were hiking through and it would take the form of an enormous waterfall.  We spent a good amount of time at each waterfall swimming and exploring the caves. 

I know you’ll hate me for saying it, but the combination of 70-75 degree rainy weather and cold river water made it a pretty freezing hike.  Not to mention, I was so wet for the entire day that some tiny cuts I had on the bottom of my feet had turned into gaping crevasses after I took my shoes off.  I was positively limping to school today.  Regardless, after much slipping, wading, swimming, and trudging, we made it to all six waterfalls and completed the loop of our very satisfying hike.  It took about 8 hours to finish and I would estimate that it was about 4 miles long.  I could have written more but I figured that the pictures would say more than I could describe.  Enjoy!

Our guide leading us to the second waterfall of the hike.  This is also the river that we hiked through and along for the majority of the day.  We made crossings like this many more times.

A closer view of the second waterfall.  Mom's care packages have kept me from getting toooo skinny.

The third waterfall.  This one also had a pretty large cave behind the falls.

Another WT volunteer, Mike, wearing an old shoe that we found camouflaged among some mossy rocks.

A waterproof camera is the best investment you could ever make for a hike like this.

The entrance to the last waterfall of the hike.

We used a rope to help us swim up-current through a rocky crevasse to get to the last waterfall.

An incredible heart-shaped waterfall in one of the most remote spots on the island.  The picture doesn't do it justice, but it was set in a staggeringly large leafy cereal bowl whose walls nearly block out the sky.  At the end of the day, you really felt like you "earned" this waterfall. 

One of the local guides (actually a student at my high school) jumping off the top part of the falls.  Don't ask me how any of us were able to climb up there in the first place, but it was a great jump.

tropical misconceptions

Before I got to Pohnpei, I knew there would be many challenges here and many things that I would have to learn to adapt to.  So far, there have indeed been challenges, but it has been nothing insurmountable; the best way to describe it would be to say that it is just different.  I really don’t want to be that person who goes to a third world country and blogs about how hard their life is in an effort to garner simultaneous pity and amazement at their “adventure.” I have running water, a fridge, internet access, access to a post-office, and the other day, I spent $5 of my hard-earned money on eight slices of Colby jack cheese.  I would say my life is at the very least bearable, if not pretty darn good.  Maybe I’m just reacting to some blogs that I’ve recently been exposed to, but I don’t want this to become some kind of pity-party.  Having to sleep under a mosquito net is not the most remarkable thing in the world.  With that said, I am going to continue by running through a quick list of things that - for some reason or another – have surprised me since I’ve been here.  Starting with…

• Mosquito nets: While a necessity, they are far from being the invincible forcefield I assumed them to be.  In fact, Gabrielle and I have each noticed elaborate spider-webs adorning our mesh canopies.  You’re probably thinking to yourself, “Well at least the spiders will eat any bugs that incidentally make their way into the nets, right??” Nope - Inexplicable Nocturnal Bites (INB’s) are a hallmark of our nightly slumbers despite the guardian spiders.  As an aside, mosquito nets offer no protection at all when it comes to bed bugs.  You can ask Gabrielle about that nice little piece of information.

• Mosquitoes: Not that they are an intelligent species, but they are particularly dim-witted on this island.  I see nothing at all of them for the entire day (except in the bathroom), and then each night at precisely 7pm, they just appear all throughout the kitchen.  So, at about 7:05pm, we light a mosquito coil and they disappear for the rest of the night.  As for when I’m in the bathroom (where it is more often moist), there will be six or seven of them swarming around me and not a single one will go in for the kill.  It’s as if the slightest bit of movement or even awareness of them will ward them off.  Gabrielle is not as lucky though and we’ve come up with the theory that body hair is the best natural bug repellant.  Indeed, my only bites are at my ankles where I am the least hairy.  It’s a good thing I grew a hideous beard to protect my face from unsightly mosquito bites.

• Showers: I don’t know what I was expecting, but I continue to be baffled and dismayed by the icy shower water situation.  But Scott, you live next to the equator, you should love having a cold shower every day.  Let me put it this way, some people may describe the feeling as “refreshing,” but to me, a freezing shower is just that – freezing.  It’s not like I want a hot shower after going on a run in 80 degree 100% humidity weather, but a little bit warmer than ice would be okay.  Other volunteers on the island have bragged to me about staying over a nice house and getting hot showers.  The saddest part is that I get jealous.  It is truly incredible what you can become dissatisfied with on a tropical island.

• Quick-Dry Towels: Imagine drying yourself with a piece of rubber and then having it smell like mildew after one use and you’ll know what a Quick-dry towel is like.  It’s just like a normal towel except it’s a millimeter thick, doesn’t get you dry, and is a complete false advertisement.  Quick-dry?  More like Still Pretty Slow-dry.  Maybe I just bought the wrong brand, but regardless, if I wanted to smear water all over my body after a shower, I wouldn’t have packed a towel in the first place. 

• Ants: I just want to say that ants are probably the most amazing creatures I’ve ever seen.  Always at work, they traverse huge distances while carrying other much larger creatures and almost never get lost.  And recently, they even found a way into my peanut butter even though I keep that lid sealed more securely than grandma’s apple pie recipe.  I couldn’t even be mad I was so impressed they found a way in there.  Needless to say, I did not show these remarkable creatures any mercy and along the way I discovered a new peanut butter flavor: Skippy’s Extra Extra Crunchy.

Sorry for the lack of visuals!  The next post will have plenty of pictures.

as if we couldn't get any whiter

Usually, writers like to start out with a “punch” to grab the reader’s attention and make them want to keep reading.  Instead, I’m going to start out by recommending that you check out Gabrielle’s blog at http://kosraeanadventures.blogspot.com because hers will be much more enjoyable to read.  She has a way more complete recap of this week and her pictures are also way better.  Besides, there are even some pictures of me up there so if it’s me you’re really interested in, you still won’t be disappointed!

With that said, I’m going to continue by talking about Gabrielle!  How backwards has this blog become??  I’ve been constantly bragging about her because she has gotten so “local” recently.  We’ve been going to a Protestant Church called Pohnalamwahu (roughly translated as “on a path to goodness”) Church and we’ve had the opportunity to become really close with the rest of the congregation.  On a side note, we go to church at least twice a week here and it’s become one of my favorite things to do.  Whether it’s cluelessly belting out Pohnpeian hymns, talking politics after the service over a cup of coffee, or receiving mountains of food that would make Jabba the Hut feel jealous, it’s the best part of the week.  Anyways, Gabrielle has been doing some serious bonding with the church ladies and has recently started dancing with them after the services.  Unbeknownst to Gabrielle, they were rehearsing for an island-wide dance group performance/competition/future MTV show (“America’s Best Pohnpeian Dance Crew Featuring One White Girl”).  When they saw that Gabrielle had the moves, they didn’t hesitate to ask her to join them in the upcoming performance on Saturday.  From there on out, she participated in all the rehearsals, was given a white mumu, white mwaramwar, and white flower to put in her hair.  

The procession towards the church in Madolenihmw.  Each municipality has its own color for events such as these - Kitti's color is white.

 When the day of the performance came, she got all dressed up and I almost couldn’t tell her apart from the rest of the women!  Up until this point, I had not seen the dance yet and I was expecting to see a riotous explosion of choreography and singing – after all, they had spent days rehearsing for hours on end.  What I saw was a slow moving, rhythmic, and flowing dance that was no less impressive.  Fulfilling my obligation as dutiful husband, I took so many pictures and videos that I filled up my memory card and had to go back and delete the bad pictures in order to make more room.  The next time I have four hours to kill (ha!), I will upload a video; but until then, the pictures will have to do! 

The church in Madolenihmw where all the church groups congregated on this warm Saturday morning.

Gabrielle and the other women slowly making their way up to the front of the church to perform for the other church groups.

As for my own rapport with the community, I am trying to keep up with Gabrielle who has clearly taken the lead in this invented competition of mine.  So far, she takes the cake with the older women, but I am winning with the 5 year old boys who constantly want to see my muscles.  My secret weapon is throwing out handshakes that were cool 10 years ago - apparently, the high-five never really reached Pohnpei.  When I started doing the good ol’ dikido limau (high-five), the wonder on their faces was as if I had taught them how to make fire.  And, like fire, it caught on with the entire elementary school.  I have kids I’ve never even met before lining up in front of my classroom to get their chance to give me some kind of 90’s greeting.  My favorite is the one where you make a fist and give a sort of punch to another person’s fist.  They went crazy when I did the exploding version where you fling your fingers open right when you make contact.  Although I am apparently the coolest 5 year old around, it gets frustrating to be unable to communicate with any of them.  For this reason -and also for the hell of it - I have begun a new concerted effort to become fluent in Pohnpeian.  I know enough to get by, but this is such an easy language to learn I almost have no excuse.  Like they say though, I am learning akisakis, or little by little.  We shall see how that endeavor pans out!  Maybe after this year, I won’t be so menwai after all.

Me and one of my favorite buddies at the neighboring elementary school. 

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.