Tradewinds

Jimmy Buffet once sang about being the son of a son of a sailor. The song doesn’t apply to me. My family’s relationship with the sea has mostly been limited to days at the Jersey Shore. That being the case, the tradewinds never meant much to me until I moved to Micronesia.

Now, I wait for the tradewinds like I would an old friend coming to visit. There are few sounds prettier than a dry wind blowing through the mango and banana tree leaves. I lay in bed listening to that sound and know relief is coming. The tradewinds are a dry wind and bring the gift of relief from the humidity that at times settles over the island like a blanket on the bed. It is a seasonal weather pattern that usually begins in November or December. This year it waited.

November seemed to be especially rainy and humid which is no easy feat on an island that easily receives over 100 inches of rain in the dry areas (the interior mountains can get up to 400 inches). Hence, we’ve been waiting, first patiently and then impatiently. November drifted into December and still no change.

As the month shifts from beginning to midpoint, the wind seems to have been picking up. The house smells a little less musty. Surf tourists are showing up to surf the world class waves that break over the reef. As I type, a dry wind flows through the house and pillows are outside on the laundry line offering up their dampness to the wind and sun. Hello tradewinds my old friend. Welcome back.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving has come and gone. Though it is now December 1, autumn is absent. There is no crispness in the air, no sound of leaves crunching underfoot. The weather is much as it has been since my arrival though November seemed rainier than most months. The trade winds should bring drier air and reduce the humidity but so far they have not come.

Though the weather was not autumnal, the autumn harvest festival we call Thanksgiving occurred in traditional fashion. Frozen turkeys were purchased from the grocery stores, cans of cranberry sauce were opened, stuffing was stuffed, and we sat down to enjoy a festive meal.

Steve and Uta, long term island residents who hail from Ohio and Germany respectively, hosted a potluck dinner at their house for the ex-pat community. It has become tradition and I believe this was the 6th consecutive year they extended their hospitality.

Thanksgiving celebrations on the island extended beyond the ex-pat community. Though they often complain that their culture is being taken away from them (I would use the word ‘given’ not ‘taken’), Micronesians don’t want to miss out on a holiday and my young co-workers have all grown up celebrating Halloween and Thanksgiving.
The government closed down at noon on Thursday so that workers could celebrate.

Given the history of Thanksgiving and the competing views of its historical significance(should it be called Thanks-giving or Thanks-taking), I found it amusing that Micronesians choose to celebrate this holiday. In fairness to them, I suppose they are more familiar with the religious overtones and context of the holiday than with its symbolism as the beginning of the end for Native American land rights and culture.

Walking on Water

I finally found out what if feels like to walk on water – almost. The hiking group organized a hike to the Nalap Atoll. Walking may not seem to be the appropriate mode of travel to get from an island to an atoll but during low tide it’s possible. Like many things in life, timing is everything. During the low tide at certain places the water is only knee deep. It wasn’t quite the same as walking on water but I figure it’s as close as I’ll ever get.

A co-worker of mine who grew up on one of the outer islands in Chuuk had told me that his area consisted of several atolls separated by water. Walking from atoll to atoll was common and people just had to be aware of the changing tide so that they wouldn’t get stuck overnight on the other atoll. It sounded a lot like taking the bus from Jersey to NYC and having to be cognizant of the time so as not to miss the last bus out of the city, though I wouldn’t compare the Port Authority to a Pacific Island.

We hired a guide who knew what path to follow (the bottom of the lagoon is not flat) and for 2 hours we walked through the knee deep water which, at times, became chest deep. Eventually we ended up on the little atoll of Nalap which is a ten minute boat ride from Pohnpei. The family that owns the atoll turned it into a beach ‘resort.’ There are little huts that can be rented for overnight stays or people can pay a dollar for daytime access. The family also runs a boat taxi service so instead of trudging back to Pohnpei, we each paid $2.50 and took a boat back.

Losing my edge

Friday, Nov 13

I’m losing my edge. After 8 months on the island I’m softening up. Things that would have bothered me, I now accept. Sometimes I even chuckle. Today was one of those days.

I entered the office and noticed that no lights were on. The electricity was off. It doesn’t happen frequently but then again it’s not uncommon. The staff see it as a reason to stop working even though they all have battery-equipped laptops and there is plenty of light in the office. Usually I’d suggest they do some work or study for the auditing exam they are suppose to take this spring. Today I was tired and complacent so, instead, I went in my office and lay down on the couch.

A couple of hours later the power still wasn’t on and I started to get restless. A call to the utility company provided us with typically vague and non-definitive information. The electricity wouldn’t be on by lunch but they didn’t know when – or if – it would be running in the afternoon.

These things always happen when my boss is out of town and I’m the acting public auditor. What to do? Since the electricity also runs the water system I had to take public health and hygiene issues into consideration. I sent everyone home with the agreement that the secretary would call the power company from home at the end of lunchtime and then call everyone in the office to let them know whether they should come back to work or spend the afternoon ‘working from home.’ To be certain that nobody would not show up in the afternoon (if the electricity was on) and use the excuse that the secretary didn’t call, I made sure they all had the secretary’s number and understood that they were responsible to call her if she didn’t call them.

We all left. Since Wenonoa and I leave together in the morning and she gets home before me, I don’t bother carrying house keys. No problem I thought, my landlord’s wife is always home and they would certainly have a key to our house as all landlords do. Dropped off in front of my house by a co-worker, I walked next door to the landlord’s.

Imagine my surprise when I found out the wife didn’t know where the landlord keeps the key to the house. No problem, it was 11:30 and I assumed he’d be home around noontime for lunch. I went up to our nahs (covered patio) and took out some work I had brought home. The rumble of the landlord’s diesel trunk coming down the driveway didn’t interrupt me at 12:00. It didn’t interrupt me at 12:15 or 12:30 either. I guess he doesn’t come home for lunch every day like I thought.

Being a warm day, as all days in Micronesia are, I had taken off my shirt and rolled my pants up to my knees. Assuming the heat wasn’t good for the fish or beans in my lunch, I decided I might as well eat. Of course, the fork I had intended to use was in my office. The privacy of the nahs provided the opportunity to consider whether utensils are truly necessary or whether fingers bent into the shape of a scoop would work fine. They do.
So there I sat sitting on a table shirtless, pants rolled up, scooping beans out of a tupperware container with my fingers when I glanced up and saw about 30 feet away one of the kittens eating a baby rat. I noticed that the other kitten was eating a gecko. The three of us ate our respective lunches.

I had no faith that the utility company would have the electricity running. They hadn’t identified the problem as of 11:00 when we called and I assumed they would break for lunch. As a result, I wasn’t too concerned that our lunch time ended at 1:30 and I was stranded, locked out of my house, about 4 miles from the office. Still, I thought I should consider my options.

Feeling sluggish from the combined effect of the heat, humidity, and lunch, it seemed logical that I should lie down to consider my options. Fortunately, the work I had brought home was about the right size and almost soft enough to serve as a pillow. It would do. After clearing the table of the majority of tiny ants that seem to call the table home I lay down to do some thinking. About an hour later I woke up.

Since it was now almost 2:00 and Wenonoa gets home from work around 2:30 my problem was solved. I’d wait and then call the secretary to verify that the electricity never came back on. 2:30 passed. 2:45 passed. By 3:00 I concluded she must have decided to stay late and grade papers or use the internet.

Around 3:15 the wind picked up and the temperature cooled down. Some relief from the heat and humidity had arrived! And it brought rain. The rain has a wonderfully cooling effect. However, when the wind blows strong, the rain blows off course. Instead of falling in a straight line down and around the nahs, it gets blown in. It is at times like this that I’ve learned the only reasonable response is just to laugh.

Soon after the rain shower passed over, I heard the car come down the gravel driveway and Wenonoa pulled up. She was a bit surprised when she opened the back door to let the air flow through the house and I was standing there.

“Your home,” she commented with surprise, “no wonder when I called your office the secretary said she hadn’t been able to get in touch with you all afternoon.”

Halloween

Halloween came to the islands a few weeks ago. I’m not sure when or how it first came to the islands but when I surveyed the younger members of my staff, they could not remember a time when it didn’t exist.

For the ex-pat community, Halloween is a major event on the social calendar and is celebrated at the Rusty Anchor. Most Halloweens I could open up my plastic tub and pick from among the many costumes I’ve accumulated over the years. That tub is back in the states so this year a new costume was necessary. Being that my copy paper cumberband and bow tie had won me top honors as king of the prom back in May, I was motivated by desire to maintain my creative concept costume credentials.

As days approached I waited for my epiphany. Patiently I waited knowing that the idea would come to me in its own sweet time. The days ticked by. I had the idea of being Pohnpei itself. Some greenery, some garbage and a rusted out car and I could double for any road in Pohnpei. Lacking a spare rusty fender and not wanting to collect raman noodle packages or dirty soda cans, I let that idea pass.

Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday all passed. Saturday afternoon I decided it was time to act. With no new idea, I downgraded my original concept and decided to just stick with the greenery. The bananas leaves were starting to cover the walkway on the side of the house so I decided I’d accomplish two tasks at once by chopping down some leaves and dressing up as a banana tree.

About 4pm I picked up the machette and got to work. I’m no engineer but I’ve learned patience so I spent the next hour working on different ways to cover oneself in banana leaves and still be able to walk. My goal was to go completely camo but the soft leaves bend and flop over, which would require me to have a five foot circumference. I did some calculations and realized that at that distance I would need help ordering a drink from the bar since they don’t have waitress service at the Rusty. Alterations were needed.

The ever helpful Wenonoa and I worked on some modifications. We had the back almost complete when the epiphany hit me. My eyes met Wenonoa’s. It was one of those moments when the same idea hits both of us and we both just nodded knowingly.

The back of the costume was taking shape in a way that it could easily be fashioned into a cape. pringsteen’s 1992 release Lucky Town contains a song titled “local Hero.” The chorus drifted into my head and the costume’s concept became clear. It was superhero time.

Dr. Lois Engleberger is a long time ex-pat on Pohnpei. She runs the non-profit Island Food Community of Pohnpei. Using the tagline Go Local, the organization promotes the benefits of eating a diet rich in local plants and fish. Applying the superhero motif to my collection of banana leaves, Localman was born. Armed with just some packing tape, a pair of scissors, and a pile of banana leaves, Wenonoa and I crafted a superhero costume for Localman.

We went traditional. Having grown up in the era that I did, it would be inconceivable that a superhero would be without a cape or mask so those were the first things to be made. Since a large pile of leaves still took covered the kitchen table, I decided leg and arm coverings would make a nice addition. Sure, the banana leave armored protection wouldn’t protect against bullets or bombs or even a machette chop, but they did look cool.

Staring at the reflection in the mirror there was no doubt in my mind that Localman would be a prize winner. The only question was whether anyone would take the time or effort to organize a costume contest and, if so, whether my costume would stay in one piece long enough to enter.

Fortunately, the Aussies had taken the lead. Not only had they prepared appetizers for the evening, they judged the costumes. By midnight when they announced the winners, my costume had lost a lot of its luster. The arm bands were gone and the cape had come apart in the front but they had seen it in its full glory from when I first showed up. Yours truly was awarded winner of the best costume and received a 12-pack donated by the bar.

Lois, who wasn’t there, was excited to hear about my costume. The Kaselehlie Press dedicates a page of the paper to health and nutrition articles prepared by and about the Island Food Community. The recent issue contained a 3 by 5 picture of me in costume. Me being me, I was amused and excited to see my picture in the paper but slightly disappointed to see that they hadn’t gotten a picture from before the costume started to come apart.

Keeping up with the Jones'

The escape from the all-consuming consumer society that America has become is a recurring theme in my blog entries. It is one of my favorite things about island life. As an American on Pohnpei, I feel no pressure to keep up with Mr. and Mrs. Jones. In fact, there are no Joneses here. I checked the phone book.

By ‘the phone book’ I do mean “the” FSM phone book. The country has one phonebook. It’s nice and lightweight and doesn’t take up much room. It’s a half inch thick and contains a separate residential (white pages) section for each of the four states. The yellow pages are not divided by state but since each state has its own prefix, it’s easy to tell which state a business is located in. The book is 157 pages long, which includes 32 pages of general information.

Curious to see whether one could keep up with the Joneses if one were so inclined to do so, I checked the Pohnpei white pages. Entries jump from Mr. Tony Jonathon to Ms. Melissa Jose. It was a confusing page and I had to double check that the listings to make sure they were listed by last name. There are 10 listings with the last name Jim, 17 listings under Joel, and 17 more for the last name John. Joseph is the most popular last name on the page with a grand total of 22 entries.

Chuuk, Kosrea, and Yap are also without any Joneses. While the ex-pats enjoy this, I suspect that many of the locals strive to become the Joneses. Such is the nature of life.

A Stress Free Anniversary

My 5th wedding anniversary approaches. Under other circumstances there might be stress and expectations. What to get? How to celebrate? There is none of that here. The options that can cause that type of stress simply don’t exist here.

For a fancy dinner, there is only one clear option: the Village Restaurant. It has white linen tablecloths and dinner rolls. Ooh ahh. Those two features might not seem special to you but they separate the Village from the other 6 or 7 restaurants in town. The menu isn’t much different from any of the other restaurants but ambiance is everything and the Village does have that.

With its thatch roof and open veranda overlooking the lagoon, it feels jungle-like in a completely touristy type of way. The first time I was there, I half expected Tarzan to swing in on a vine, land at the bar, and order a beer for himself and a banana daiquiri for Cheetah. Tarzan never showed but I still go back when an occasion deserves a little something special. After all, you don’t get tablecloths and dinner rolls just anywhere.

For the last 4 years, every anniversary I have purchased a bouquet of Aziatic Lillies, which served as Wenonoa’s wedding flowers. That won’t happen this year. There is no florist on the island. Oddly, there really aren’t many flowers at all. There is a lot of green but very few tropical flowers.

With dinner location an easy choice and flowers no choice, the last traditional celebratory marker would be the exchange of gifts. That won’t happen. There won’t be any trips to the mall because there is no mall. Shopping here is pretty much limited to the basic necessities. It is really one of the nice things about island life.

There are no newspaper circulars, no telemarketers, no TV infomercials trying to convince you to buy the newest, bestest, shiniest thing that will ensure a life of happiness. I’m not reminded of all the things that are missing from my life and as a result, I don’t really feel anything is missing.

Since this is the age of the internet I could have purchased a gift over the internet, I suppose many of you are thinking. True, I could have but I didn’t. I’m pretty sure Wenonoa didn’t either. If she did, I don’t have to worry. I’m the one assigned to pick up the mail from the post office and I have the only key. On the off-chance she purchased me a gift, well maybe it just won’t arrive…

Mail delivery, which most of you probably take for granted, is a mystery here even though the FSM is part of the U.S Postal Service. On October 15th, I picked up two letters, both mailed from the U.S. One was postmarked Sept 22nd and the other October 7th. You just don’t know when things will arrive here. I’m still waiting for a box of books that I mailed here when I was in New Jersey in June.

I’m told that since it’s a box, it went by boat not airplane. The time estimate I was given was 2 – 4 months. A couple of times a week I play out my own personal adaptation of Waiting for Godot and walk from my office to the post office thinking maybe it will be here today. A boat arrived yesterday, based on the produce that was in the grocery store today, so who knows, maybe my box will be there tomorrow. Now that would make for a nice anniversary gift!

Top 10 Reasons You Know You Are Living on Pohnpei:

#10 - Your dinner guest comments on the qualty of your water pressure

#9 - You keep your kitchen garbage in the freezer to discourage ants and other bugs

#8 - You know all the geckoes in your house by their size and favorite locations

#7 - Your rental property comes complete with miscellaneous stray cats and dogs

#6 - You classify your flip flops as evening wear, appropriate for work, and casual

#5 - Grocery shopping resembles a scavenger hunt

#4 - You can distinguish between an attractive looking mumu and an unattractive one

#3 - Driving 30 MPH feels really fast

#2 - You don't see dogs with their heads sticking out of car windows - you see little kids with their heads sticking out of car windows

The number one reason you know your living on Pohnpei - When you see a dog on a leash it strikes you as strange.

Credit goes to Wenonoa for coming up with this list. David Letterman, are you hiring?

Weekend on Ant

September 11th , a solemn day in the U.S., happens to also be Pohnpei Liberation Day. The holiday celebrates the end of the ‘War in the Pacific,’ which is the nice way of saying the end of Japanese control of the island. Regardless of how you say it, the result is that we had a three-day weekend.

Back in the states when a three day holiday weekend rolled around, we’d throw the camping gear in the truck and head for the woods. So what do you do when you live on an island where you can drive the circumference in less than three hours and all land is privately owned? Boat trip!

With food having been purchased, camping gear packed, and sunscreen applied, ten of us ex-pats drove down to the Kitti boat ramp to rendevouz with a hired boat. With the theme song of Gilligan’s Island playing in the back of my head, we small boat took off for Ant Atoll.

Ant is a one to four hour boat ride away. The time it takes to get to Ant doesn’t vary based on traffic. Weather conditions, specifically waves, determine whether one spends a quick easy hour getting from point A to point B or whether one spends four seasick hours praying to G-d and vowing never leave dry land again. We made it there in a just over an hour.

Without getting too technical, it’s hard to describe what distinguishes an island from an atoll. In layman’s terms an atoll is a really small island. An atoll is what makes a 12 mile by 15 mile island like Pohnpei seem big. Very big.
The best description I’ve read on the Pacific atolls is that each atoll is like a string of beads. Ant had a few beads, each separated by a space of water. Some of the beads were more or less connected and at low tide a person can walk from one bead to the next. Our bead had broken off and there was no low tide corral bridge to lead us to the other beads.

With gear unloaded from the point, we stood on the beach and waved goodbye to the boat taxi. There we were, on an unoccupied atoll in the middle of the Pacific – cut off from the rest of the world. It felt pretty exhilarating. The wind picked up and the sky darkened but we managed to set up a tarp in time to save ourselves and our gear from getting soaked by an afternoon rain shower.

It had been a while since I’ve sat on a beach and enjoyed the feel of sand between my toes. I did say beach. As I think I’ve mentioned in earlier entries, Pohnpei doesn’t really have beaches and sand. Little know fact: not all islands have sand. Instead of sand, islands formed by volcanoes have corral - hard, sharp, pointy corral. They also have mangrove swamps but I digress….

So there we were on the sandy beach of an uninhabited atoll a few hours by boat from a small island in the Pacific. It was pretty cool! For 48 hours we snorkeled, played cards, ate, had bonfires, and drank. I’ve done my share of camping in the past. I’ve also done my share of eating, drinking, playing cards, and also some snorkeling. Somehow, it all seems just a little better when done on an isolated piece of land in a place few people ever get to.

Normally, I’d prefer bourbon or scotch to rum, but neither one would taste as good when drunk from a coconut shell. One of the highlights of the weekend – one of the things that made the experience unique – is that we climbed and knocked coconuts out of trees, hacked off the top with our machetes and added rum to the coconut juice inside. Mmm, mmm good!!!

Waterboys

Thursday Oct 8

Last night was opening night of a 4-night film festival being hosted by the Japanese Embassy. It seems out of place to be blogging about a film festival in Pohnpei but its true. For the next 3 nights a Japanese film will be showing at the local theater.

Last night we saw Waterboys. It was a feel-good film about a group of nerdy high school boys who start a synchronized swim team. For those not familiar with it, synchronized swimming is a sport that somehow blends ballerinesque moves with a swimming pool being performed by a team. Physically demanding though it must be, its an all-girl sport.

What struck me most was that the formula plot and the scripted characters seemed to have been taken straight from America. I had to wonder if the script writer had been influenced by (or was imitating) by American pop film and culture. Given that the Richard Gere movie Shall We Dance was a re-make of a Japanese film by the same name, I had to consider that maybe its American film thats copying Japanese.

Alternatively, maybe people really are the same the world over and the similar themes/characters developed independently but similarly?

No Tsunami Here

Wed Sept 30

My e-mail home page lists some headlines from the USA Today. Opening up the home page during lunch today, I saw a headline about a tsunami hitting American Somoa.
For those of you who heard of this and are checking my blog to see if we are ok, thank you for your concern. We are fine.

American Somoa is somewhere south of us in this vast Pacific region. I'm not sure how far south it is, but nothing here is close. My guess is that it is at least 2,000 miles away and probably more. We don't have internet access here so I'm not inclined to check the exact distance.

Should a tsunami hit Pohnpei, Wenonoa and I would most likely be ok. Pohnpei is a very hilly island and our house, my office, and the college where Wenonoa teaches, are situated on hills away from the coast. That said, Tuesday night we were in a building that is right on the waterfront but most of the time we are not too close to the water.

On a weather-related note, Monday night the winds were howling as we tried to sleep and Tuesday morning it rained heavily at the house. I learned that a typhoon hit the Phillipines and that our wind/rain were caused by that storm.

PS - If my references to the days of the week seem to be a day off, it is because Pohnpei sits on the other side of the international date line.

The road around the island

A pig grazes contently by the side of the road in a more rural area of the island

A few weeks ago I finally made the drive around the island. For most people, it’s one of the first things they do after arriving here. I held off.

Robert Frost famously wrote of a path less traveled. On Pohnpei, there is only route to travel. It circles the island. It goes up and down and curves this way and that. After about 50 miles and 2 ½ hours later, you end up back where you started.

Outside of Kolonia there isn't much to see other than the foliage on the side of the road. I counted the number of other cars we saw on one hand. In addition to Kolonia, there are two population centers that contribute to the island’s count of about 30,000 inhabitants. Both Madolenihnmw (go ahead, try and pronounce it) and Kitti can best be described as small bedroom communities. “Blink and you’ll miss them,” as the saying goes.

As I mentioned I’ve held off taking the drive. I like the idea of a frontier, of the great unknown that exists just past the next turn in the road or just over the next hill.

The road has always symbolized the potential. As the man sang, "these two lanes will take us anywhere." Having taken the drive and ended up right where we started, the island now feels smaller. For the Jack Kerouc's among you, stay off the island unless of course the sea beckons. For pirates, sailors, and the such, there is no shortage of ocean here.

ONPA Press Release

Here is a press release [http://www.fsmopa.fm/new/107.htm] my office issued regarding a recently released audit report:


The Office of the National Public Auditor announces the release of report No. 2009-04 Audit of Congress Funded Public Projects in Chuuk State. The report is available for public review online at the Auditor's website www.fsmopa.fm and copies are available at the Auditor's offices in Palikir and Weno.

The audit was performed with the objectives of determining whether the administration of Congressionally-funded public projects complied with the Financial Management Regulation (FMR) Part X and other applicable laws, policies, and regulations. Congress appropriated approximately $1 million in local revenue funds from Public Law 13-36 (as amended) for the purpose of funding social and economic projects, often referred to as CFSM public projects, in Chuuk State. The audit team examined 39 of the 69 funded projects and focused on fiscal year 2005 - 2008 (thru July 31, 2008) appropriations. The audit was conducted in accordance with Generally Accepted Government Auditing Standards.

The audit team found that parties involved in the selection, management, and oversight of the projects failed to comply with the FMR and other applicable laws, policies, and regulations. Moreover, the overall process from the selection of projects to the payment of vendors was conducted without the benefit of appropriate management controls.

Section 4 of PL13-36 specifies that funding is provided for ��social and economic development projects in the State of Chuuk.� An examination of the projects revealed that 17 projects accounting for approximately one-third of the Chuuk appropriation did not appear to meet the definition of �social and economic development project.� These 17 projects were, in essence, subsidies for municipal operations and the Chuuk Delegation Office. For example, the Chuuk Delegation Office was awarded $40,000 for the purpose of defraying its operating costs and another $20,000 was awarded for a project titled �Chuuk Delegation Office Operation.� Similarly, the Southern Namoneas region received $45,000 for the purpose of subsidizing general municipal operations. Polle, Satawon, and Ta also received funding to defray operating costs.

The audit team found that the project selection process occurred without any documentation as to why the selected projects were chosen, how they would contribute to the social and economic development of Chuuk, or what criteria was used to select projects. To ensure transparency in the decision making process and fairness, other organizations establish criteria for evaluating proposals and then document why some projects are selected and others aren�t. The audit also revealed that neither the Chuuk State Commission on Improvement Projects (CSCIP) nor the FSM Finance Field Office in Chuuk could account for vehicles, boats, and boat engines purchased with PL 13-36 funds. Seven vehicles, four boats, and ten engines were purchased in conjunction with the 39 projects reviewed. However, no boats or engines could be located or accounted for. Similarly, six of the seven vehicles could not be located or accounted for. Though Project Control Documents (PCDs) are intended to ensure that all purchases are for the project�s intended purpose and within authorized limits, the audit team found that not all expenditures were appropriate and/or within the budget. The Chuuk Delegation Office project and the Chuuk Delegation Office Operations project had the stated purposes of defraying operating costs. However, funds were used to pay reimbursements to Congress members and to make contributions to constituents. In essence, these funds were used as representation funds although the original intent was for the operations of the Chuuk Delegation Office. Auditors also found that funds for a fishing project were used to purchase a vehicle and construction material. A total of 21 of the 69 projects reviewed (30%) exceeded the dollar amount appropriated by law. Inappropriate purchases were allowed to be made because the CSCIP did not have a process for reviewing expenditure requests to verify that the purchases related to the project purpose (as stated on the PCD) prior to CSCIP�s submittal of the request to the Finance Field Office. Similarly, the Finance Field Office lacked a procedure for reviewing requests prior to certifying fund availability and making payment.

The audit also revealed that there were no controls to ensure projects were completed. FSM 10.7 requires that the allottee designate a project inspection official in order to ensure proper oversight and accountability. The project official should be listed on the PCD. However, 87% of the PCDs reviewed did not include a designated project inspection official. Moreover, payments should not be approved by the CSCIP unless a project inspection has been completed. Site inspections conducted by the audit team revealed that several of these projects such as sea walls, a pathway, and a meeting hall were never completed. Furthermore, payments for construction materials related to these projects were paid though the materials could not be accounted for because the FSM Finance Field Office did not require submittal of a completed inspection report.

Some of the findings have been referred to the Compliance Investigation Division for further review. The results of the audit were discussed with the Chuuk State Commission on Improvement Projects, the FSM Finance Field Office, and with Chuuk Congress members. The CSCIP, the Field Office and the Congress Members did not provide the customary written response to the audit.

Roosters

Little Red Rooster

My first night on the island a rooster interrupted my sleep somewhere around 3 AM. Having grown up in suburbia, I had always believed that roosters make their noise around sunup. Perhaps it hadn’t set its alarm clock correctly? The next few nights at various times when the sky was still dark and the moon still high, the rooster chose to serenade me and I assume everyone else in the vicinity. The hotel I stayed in my first week didn’t have a brochure, if it did, I don’t think roosters crowing in the middle of the night would have been listed as an amenity.

My second week on the island I moved from the hotel to an apartment. Away from the rooster that couldn’t tell time, I looked forward to a full night’s sleep. I assumed that any roosters residing near the apartment would be more aware of rooster protocol and wait for the first light of dawn to sound the wake up call. Of course I was wrong. Sometime during my first and every night after, a cockaduduldoo would pierce the darkness.

When I’d mention my perplexity in a somewhat sleep deprived state, my co-workers would just chuckle and tell me I’d get use to it. It just didn’t seem possible to me. I can understand how urban dwellers get use to the sounds of cars, and horns, and sirens. One can tune out a constant background noise but the rooster?

The roosters seemed different. Their noise comes out of nowhere. One minute there is silence and the next minute a shrill sound slides into your ear canal and yells surprise. After a month, I moved from the apartment into a house and, of course, there are roosters next door.

I’ve been on the island 6 months and now I sleep just fine. I hadn’t thought about those early rooster-filled nights until yesterday. A new Canadian on the island asked, in that same bewildered voice I had my first month, if one gets use to the roosters. It was his sixth night on the island. The group of us ex-pats, who have all been here for at least a few months, all assured him that he would.

Football

Football
My weekly routine now often includes Saturday afternoon football.
A few months ago as I was leaving the house one day, my landlord’s son Boya was outside throwing a football with a cousin. I stopped and tossed a few with them. As we played, a few more cousins came over from their houses and joined us. I didn’t see the football after that afternoon and when I inquired, I learned they had lost the ball.

When I went to Guam I picked up a football at the Kmart there so that we could play again. Now, if I’m around on Saturday afternoon and I see Boya hanging around, I ask if he’d like to play. He yells out something in Pohnpein and within 5 minutes a half dozen kids will appear out of nowhere and we’ll play.

Their knowledge of football is, of course, limited. Amusingly, the one thing they all know to do is to cross into the endzone, spike the ball, and yell touchdown. The game we play is a wonderful mix of football, rugby, and just plain running around but they seem to love it.

I don’t want to take the fun out of playing but part of me can’t help but try and teach them some basics. After running around for a while, I then organize them and have them run passing drills with me as the quarterback. The first week I just had them run a simple pattern. The next week I introduced the idea of a defender and the third week I had them line up with two receivers and two defenders. I’m working on the concept of incomplete passes and a set of downs but we aren’t quite there yet.

Cash Power

August 18, 2009

“Cash power” as it is called, is a technology I had not seen before I came to the island.
Cash power can be described as the cross breeding of a parking meter with your utility meter.

To sum it up succinctly, cash power is a pay-in-advance system of purchasing electricity. One goes down to the utility company, tell them your name or account number, and hands over some money. In return, you walk away with a receipt that has a number code on it. When you go home, you enter the code into your keypad and the system adds the newly purchased kilowatt hours to the remaining balance.

The box in the picture sits on the wall of our kitchen. It has a display screen that shows how many kilowatt hours we have remaining. Every time one watt is used, a red light blinks. For the very curious or eco-concerned, the flashing red light provides an easy method to see how the usage changes when you plug in an appliance or turn on the stove. The cash power box also has a light that will display either in green, yellow, or red depending on the available kilowatt balance.

Our electrical usage has gone up in stages. When it was just me in the house with only a refrigerator, stove, fan, laptop, and a few light bulbs I used 2 or 3 kilowatts a day. Our shipment of household goods introduced a washing machine, a tv/dvd combo, radio/cd player, and other odds and ends to the electrical outlets scattered throughout the house. A dehumidifier purchased in Guam and a larger (and frost free) refrigerator to replace the small one I started with added a little more usage and we are now using around 5 kilowatts a day.

I spent many an Arizona summer and a few Oregon winters wondering how much a few extra degrees of comfort was costing me. Cash power takes the guesswork away. We are now able to track our usage as it occurs and there are no surprises when the bill comes at the end of the month. The kWH display screen works just as well for those on a carbon budget as it does for those on a monetary budget.

I’m sure the meter readers’ union doesn’t appreciate cash power as much as I do, but think of the business benefits. The utility company gets is money before it provides a service, doesn’t have to worry about late or non-payments, and doesn’t have the expense of reading meters and sending out bills.

On the macro-level, the island produces its electricity through the use of generators that convert diesel fuel into electricity. The residential rate is around 30 cents a kWH. I don't know if the utility corp has or is experimenting with bio-diesel or coconut oil as an alternative to straight diesel fuel.

The European Union has been funding projects to bring solar power to the small outer islands and atolls but I haven’t seen or heard of any large scale solar projects on the main island yet.

The lagoon

We have a nice view from the back balcony! It comes in handy.

As the season shifted from spring to summer the temperature didn't really change but the trade winds died off and now moisture stays in the air. We've gotten in the habit of hanging our towels outside under the covered area (naas its called locally)of the balcony. So each morning I walk outside to get a towel, come inside to shower, and then go back outside to hang it on the line.

While this sounds tedious, the view helps. The lagoon, protected by the reef, has no waves and the water sits tranquilly beneath the sky. The lagoon view keeps me company as I hang my towel and its a pleasant way to spend a few minutes each morning.

The concrete house absorbs heat during the day if it doesn't rain much. By the time we get home from work or exercise class it can be quite hot and stuffy inside. On those days, we drag the camping chairs out to the balcony and watch the sun set while we allow some fresh air to flow through the house, cooling it by a degree or so.

Lifers and Wanderers

August 10, 2009
A coyote howls in the distance. Its cry bounces off the desert canyon walls and fills the dark, empty night. Somewhere, farther south, the howl is answered by a second coyote. A third then a fourth join in and the chorus replaces the stillness of the crisp autumn night. I peak my head out of the tent and ten thousand twinkling stars greet me from above and it feels right.

This hasn’t happened to me lately.

The road curves and climbs and curves and climbs some more. The snow gets deeper and soon two walls of white sit on the shoulder of the road blocking the forest. We pull into the parking lot and all around us the clean white snow blankets the Spruce and Fir trees. The sky is blue except where the bright yellow sun sits high in the Oregon sky. The thermometer tells us that it’s a cold January day but we are warm as the sunlight beams down and reflects off the snow. We strap on our skis and glide into the forest and all it feels right.

This hasn’t happened to me lately either nor will it for the remainder of my time in Micronesia. There are no deserts, no coyotes, there isn’t even autumn here. No evergreen forests and no winter wonderland scenery.


Wenonoa came home from the college the other day amazed, having met a few American instructors who have made Pohnpei their permanent home. Life on the island can gently seduce a person. No nightly news reminds you of all that is wrong with the world. Stress and pressure are minimal. As Bob Dylan once sang, “Come in, she said, I’ll give you shelter from the storm.” As one instructor put, "I teach what I want, when I want, and I have plenty of free time to pursue my research interests." Put that way, I can see why he stays.

I don’t mind giving up camping, coyotes, and cross country skiing for two years but I couldn’t imagine foregoing it on a permanent basis. Six months into my contract, I don’t see myself becoming a “lifer” here. I couldn’t be content spending a life here while knowing all that exists past the vast expanse of the Pacific. I’m a wanderer who enjoys change.


The ‘sameness’ here would eventually drive me insane. As I think I’ve mentioned earlier, excitement here is when the supply ship arrives and there is produce and ice cream in the grocery stores. Not even the weather changes. This is the first place I’ve ever lived where the annual temperature graph is represented by a horizontal line extending from January through December. In fairness, I should mention that the daily temperature does fluctuate. The daily highs are around 86 and the lows can drop as far down as 72 degrees.

Some of you might think that this weather is perfect. True, it is nice... OK, it’s downright pleasant, especially when a wind blows the moisture out of air. Arriving from the damp cold of an Oregon winter it was quite enticing. Still, variety is the spice of life and even Phoenix, with temperatures that ranged from hot to hotter, offered the I-10 escape to the high country of Flagstaff two hours to the north.

The four seasons beckon me. Living in Arizona I had forgotten how enjoyable the change of seasons is. Living in Oregon reminded me. I don’t know where we’ll end up next but I’m pretty confident we’ll end up leaving at the end of my contract.

Local Foods and Crafts

August 11

As you may recall from my early posts, I came to Pohnpei very interested in learning about and experiencing the local lifestyle. Except for an early fishing trip (as detailed in my March entry Fishing, which may be the funniest entry to date), it really hasn't happened.

Part of the reason is that I never really integrated into any local families and part of the reason is that much of the traditional ways have gone by the wayside. Its easier to buy a paper plate than to make a plate. As an American friend who learned how to make coconut milk remarked, "it was fun to do but very labor intensive. I'll probably go back to buying cans in the store and only make my own on special occasions."

Many ex-pats are interested in learning about the traditional ways of doing things and last month an enterprising Micronesian woman put together a Saturday afternoon class to teach us a few things. We learned how to make mar-mars which are a cross between a Hawaiin lei and a headband, weave plates out of palm froms, shuck and open a coconut, and cook breadfruit (a local starch) and whole fish on an open fire.

Wenonoa described the afternoon. Here is what she had to say:

Praise & Melian – two local Pohnpeian women – hosted a Pohnpei Day intended to teach Men Wei (White Men) how to live and eat like locals.

We were greeted with a freshly macheted coconut with a straw. Fresh coconut milk straight from the coconut is delightfully refreshing. After finishing our milk, we were shown how to crack the coconut by hitting the middle with the dull side of a machete. We really have to buy a machete – they are good for so many things. We then scooped out the coconut with our thumbs and happily ate it.

Next we were charged with making marmars. These are traditional flower head wreaths given to newcomers, guests, and those leaving the island. You begin with a circular, slender piece of plastic and, proceeding cautiously, wrap local flowers and greenery around the plastic using twine to hold it in place as you proceed around the circle. You can use any combination of flowers and greenery. Most of us Men Wei made some very bushy marmars – not bad, we were told, for our first time.

Then we cooked breadfruit. This is a large green “fruit” that comes from a tree. It tastes like a potato and is often prepared with grated coconut to sweeten it. As it tastes like a potato, one of my favorite veggies, I am very happy to eat it plain. You score the breadfruit – slightly opening the skin – making four longitudinal cuts and place the breadfruit directly onto the hot coals of an open fire. After about 30 minutes, the skin is blackened and the breadfruit is ready to eat. You then peel all of the blackened skin off and eat as is. I have been told that you can use this local fruit as a substitute for potatoes. It is supposed to be chock full of vitamins.

Next, having nothing to eat off of, we had to make plates. Using a local variety of palm frond, we wove a basket to use as a plate. We covered the woven plate with an additional layer of palm fronds.

Next we chose a fresh fish to cook over the open fire – we placed it directly on the coals. There were several varieties to choose from. One that I had was called bluefish but it wasn’t. A variety that Eric had wasn’t called bluefish but it actually was this beautiful iridescent teal color. After about 10 minutes, one side was done and we flipped the fish with local, long wooden tongs to blacken the other side.

We were ready to eat! Gathering our plates, we chose our fish, some breadfruit and some tapioca sweetened with green banana. Melian offered forks to us as she told us that locals wouldn’t use a fork. Feeling like locals, we declined the forks and dug in with our hands. All of the weaving and cooking had worked up an appetite.

I feel like I would be somewhat prepared if I was ever stranded on a deserted island.

Throughout the day, as we were learning native cooking and weaving, a local fellow was making secaw. This is the local drink which is said to have marijuana-like effects. I haven’t tried it. It is considered rude to refuse it if offered to you in ceremony; however, it is okay to pretend to drink it or ask someone to drink it on your behalf as an honor to that person.

Desert was fresh watermelon; according to Melian, fresh fruit is desert here. Locals don’t really have cakes, cookies, pies, etc. that they eat for desert.

As they afternoon waned and tiki torches were lit all around, a group of local women performed local, traditional dances for us. What a great day to be on Pohnpei!

Guam

It’s August 3rd. Time flies. I’m back in Pohnpei having spent the last 9 days at a training conference in Guam. If you’re thinking 9 days is a long time to be at a conference since most conferences run Monday to Friday, your right.

Let me explain – To be on Guam Monday morning, a traveler from Pohnpei has two options. He/she can take a plane that leave Pohnpei Sunday night/Monday morning at 1:30 AM and get to Guam around 4:00 AM. While that does leave the traveler time to check in to a hotel, shower, and eat breakfast, it’s a tough way to start the week. The other option means leaving Saturday afternoon, which I did. Getting back to Pohnpei isn’t much different. There is no Friday evening flight nor is there a Saturday flight. 7:30 Sunday evening we boarded the plane and arrived back in Pohnpei around 1:00 AM.

Guam was an experience. I didn’t know much about the place other than that there are a couple of US military bases there. Thus, I expected to find bars, strip clubs, but not much else. They had much else! Guam, which is a U.S. territory, is just a 4 hour flight from Japan.

Guam developed itself into a Japanese tourist destination, complete with resorts, restaurants, and high end shopping. Rolex, Cartier, Coach, and other high end stores lined the main resort boulevard next to places like the Hard Rock Café and Planet Hollywood. For us local Micronesians, our money was deposited at KMart,Ross, and the local grocery store which all supplied items we can't get at home.

The first couple of days, as I looked aroud a little voice in my head kept saying, “Toto I don’t think we are in Micronesia anymore.” The second morning I actually woke up confused thinking that I was still doing freelance work stateside and had just dreamt the whole Micronesian thing. But Guam is part of the region known as Micronesia (the Federates States of Micronesia includes just a few of the islands in the Micronesian region), it just has more in common with the U.S.

Guam has about as much in common with the FSM as a bird has with a dinosaur. Both Guam and FSM were wrestled from Japan and put under American control after WWII and both Guam and the FSM states are small Pacific islands but the comparison ends there.

I’ve heard it said that success comes from equal parts talent, opportunity, and hard work. Guam by virtue of its closer proximity to Japan and the US military presence had the opportunity to develop its economy, and it has. I don’t know the history of its economic development but when I asked a local about it, he explained that Guam allows foreign investors to own property and the FSM doesn’t. That may explain why Guam has a robust tourist economy complete with 40-story beachside resorts and the FSM doesn't.

I did find myself missing the greenness of Pohnpei. Some places are built around nature and other places replace nature with buildings and roads. Guam's tourist area was more concrete and less greenery. I sat in traffic, changed lanes, and waited for the light to turn green, all things I don't do in Pohnpei.

So which island do I prefer? I guess I'm like Goldilocks, this one isn't developed enough and that one is too developed. I hope to see Palau some day.

Stuff

July 16

Stuff. Beautiful, glorious stuff. Two big wooden crates filled with our stuff arrived last week. Wenonoa and I are both known to favor minimalism when it comes to household stuff so you may be surprised over my excitement but consider…

For the last two months I have lived an existence that can be accurately described as Spartan. In the three bedroom house we are renting, the sole furnishings were a kitchen table and chairs; a pot, pan, a couple of plastic bowls and plates and assorted plastic cutlery; a yoga mat and exercise ball; and a mattress. I’m sure that there are monks who have more.

For the most part, I was ok with the setup. Except for the bed! It was a loaner until mine arrived. To call it a bed is being generous. Picture a set of springs wrapped inside a mattress casing – that is what I slept on. I’m not sure what happened to the foam or whatever material is generally used to fill a mattress these days but I’m pretty sure that if I cut open the mattress, I wouldn’t find any. If you think I’m exaggerating then consider this one fact: After Wenonoa spent her first night here, when she got up in the morning I noticed a series of indentations running up her back where the springs pressed into her flesh.

The worst part about the bed was that I could have had a nice (or at least decent) one. The standard contract used by the FSM government when hiring ex-pats requires the government to supply a bed and a kitchen table. I could have gone down to Ace Hardware (yes, Ace Hardware) or one of the few other stores that sells mattresses and walked out with a brand new mattress. Given that even a basic twin mattress retails for over $400 here and I generally hate to see money wasted, no matter whose it is, I didn’t.

I thought, “How bad could it be? My bed from home will arrive in a month or so.” So I took the loner and I found out just how bad it could be. For over 60 nights I tried to shrink my body into the narrowest of spaces between the columns of springs. It never worked and I don’t think I got one good night’s sleep in the two month period.

So yes – stuff, glorious stuff! Each time I walk into the bedroom and see our bed lying there, soft but firm with no springs poking up at me, waves of relief and appreciation wash over me.

Second in the list of possessions I truly cherish having is our television set. It’s nothing fancy. It’s a modest 27” or 32” and it’s not a flat screen. Having watched movies on a laptop at the kitchen table for two months, watching a movie on a 27” television screen while sitting in a good old Lazy Boy recliner is now as exciting as the first time I heard surround sound or sat in a theater with stadium seating.

As Huck Finn might have said, “I feel a might bit civilized.”

Wenonoa's writes about her first days

Arrival in Pohnpei
June 26, 2009
Guest blog by Wenonoa
As we flew over the expansive Pacific Ocean, I was struck by how many shades of beautiful blue existed in this amazing marine environment. Many of the outer islands that make up the Federated States of Micronesia (FSM) are actually atolls which are coral rings that form the top of dead, underwater volcanoes. These rings are surrounded by incredible turquoise, green and blue water and are beautiful from the air.

When we left Honolulu, we stopped in two of the Marshall Islands and in Kosrae (FSM) before landing on Pohnpei. As the plane touched down, I was very excited to arrive in our new home. It reminded me of when I first landed in Honduras so many years ago. As you deplane, the tropical humidity and heat hit you. You walk across the tarmac into a small building with wooden booths where you present your passport and answer questions about why you are there. Then you head out into baggage claim. Baggage claim on Pohnpei is a metal shelf facing the open air. A baggage attendant loads a Nissan or Toyota pickup with baggage, drives across the tarmac and deposits the baggage onto the metal shelf where you retrieve it and then go through customs. The pick-up usually makes a few trips.

When we emerged from customs, two of Eric’s co-workers were there to pick us up and give us a ride home. They were bearing a welcome fruit basket with local watermelon, mangoes, pineapples, and papaya. I can’t imagine a tastier welcome.

Right-sided driving
June 29, 2009
Guest blog by Wenonoa
Eric purchased a vehicle through Japanesevehicles.com. You go to the website, choose a vehicle from a database, wire some money to Japan, and wait for your car to arrive by ship. This takes about 4 weeks. As the cars come from Japan, they are mostly right-sided driving vehicles. Pohnpeians drive on the right side of the road just like we do in America; although, with many potholes and other obstructions, you mostly end up in the middle. America should really adopt right-sided driving as it puts the driver on the outside of the road and would reduce head-on collision fatalities (I am postulating here but it seems to make sense). I took to the right-handed driving right away. We have an automatic transmission so it is a lot less complicated than a standard transmission would be.

Driving on Pohnpei reminds me of the Atari game Pitfall. You start out slowly – about 25 km/hr and as you round each corner you brake to navigate around numerous potholes, dogs lying in the road, and slowly ambling pedestrians who expect you to wait until they decide to move to the side of the road. Then, as you pick up speed, a chicken bursts out from the foliage on the side of the road and you have to slow again or you come to a road trench – as I fondly refer to them. These reverse speed bumps are common on the main road and its arterials. On my first day of driving, I dropped Eric off at his workplace and continued onto the College of Micronesia where I will begin teaching in August. A colleague of mine, Mary, who has been here almost a year, accompanied me to show me the lay of the land.

Bureaucracy
July 1, 2009
Guest blog by Wenonoa
Today I decided to get a driver’s license. I needed one and, as it turned out, I had nothing else going on that day. The process would begin with obtaining a social security number. While not as challenging as going to an actual social security office in the states, it provided some unique challenges. I was given general directions - the social security office is directly in front of the Bank of Guam and there is a thatched roof hut in the area in front of the social security office.

There aren’t really addresses here. Fine, I thought, and set out. After several unsuccessful passes through the 1-mile downtown stretch, I still couldn’t locate the bank. Changing tactics, I began looking for the thatched roof hut. That bit of advice proved to be worth its weight in gold as I quickly spotted it and turned into a hilly driveway leading to a 2-story building. I parked in front of a small Bank of Guam sign that was only visible if parked directly in front of it. Luckily that is where I parked so knew immediately that I was in the right place.

I walked back down the hill toward the main road and the thatched hut. A non-descript cement building with 2 brown doors faced the hut. Upon closer inspection (standing directly in front of the door closest to me) I noticed a sign the size of an address label that said simply, “social security.” I went in. After filling out a postcard-sized, one-sided form, and paying $3.00, I was given a social security card. If only the bureaucracy in the states could be so easy… Now on to the police station.

On one of my lost loops through town, I had inadvertently passed where I knew the police station was based on a prior tour so I was certain where to go next. I parked in the lot and tried to decide behind which of the doors facing me might lie the police station. It was difficult to determine based on the ruin-like appearance of the entire complex. I picked the one directly in front of me and it opened into a small waiting area with a couple of “protect and serve” posters on the wall. I surmised I was in the correct place. This was confirmed as a gentleman in a “Charlie’s Pizza” shirt behind the counter sent for someone when I explained that I was there for a driver’s license. After logging my name and information in what can only be described as a century’s old journal on the counter, he asked for my current driver’s license and filled out a short form.

He handed the form back to me and explained that their driver’s license machine was broken but that parts had been ordered. They would issue me a paper license. First, though, I had to take the application form across town to the state finance department, pay the $6.50 fee and either go to Nicho’s, the local printing company, or the library for a photo. I left with the form to find the finance department. Luckily I knew it was in the vicinity of the Peace Corps office which I had already visited.

Upon arrival near the Peace Corps office, I saw two people standing in a line at a window and walked over to join them. There was a paper taped to the side of the window with a list of fees they accepted – I was actually surprised that I had found the right place. When it was my turn, I handed the lady my form and payment and left with a receipt. I then headed out to find the library which I was told charged less for a photo than Nicho’s and was right across the street from it. Without that knowledge, I would have missed the library altogether. I pulled up in front of a building that has seen much, much better days. I got out and went into the abandoned-looking building through a paint bare door. I waited for awhile as someone was dispatched to find the one woman who could operate the digital camera. After posing for the shot, I was given a passport-sized photo and asked to pay $1.00. Then it was back to the police department.

I was getting parched by this time so I stopped at what they call a drive through convenience store (really a pull in, park, get out, and walk up to) for a coke. When I arrived back at the police station some 40 minutes later, the policeman was surprised to see that I had finished all of my errands. I thanked him for his great directions. I then waited while the secretary typed in my information on an archaic word processor, spit out my new paper license, and taped on my photo. She did this all while carrying on what sounded like a very animated phone conversation as the police office looked over her shoulder the entire time. Multi-tasking has arrived in Pohnpei.

After handing me my license, the nice policeman suggested that I get it laminated or it would quickly deteriorate. Back to Nicho’s I went to pay another $1.50 for the lamination. After a full day of finding government offices, I was then pretty tired so I returned home to take a nap and catch up on some reading.

Reflections on my trip to the U.S.

Sunday July 5, 2009

I haven’t posted an entry in over a month. As planned, I went back to the states in June and Wenonoa and I rendezvoused in Jersey. Now I’m back in Pohnpei. Having returned over a week ago I’m falling back into familiar patterns, only now Wenonoa is with me!

Having only been gone three months, I wouldn’t say I experienced culture shock upon being back in the states but I definitely had a new appreciation for things we often take for granted. Things were wonderfully clean and choices were abundant. On my first trip to a supermarket I fought the urge to drop to my knees and kiss the holy ground. So many vegetables, so many fruits!

The suburbs, though sparkly clean, felt as empty as a ghost town. With no pedestrians, no dogs lying by the side of the road, and no chickens crossing the road (which they do with a frequency here), the life that pulses slowly through Pohnpei was missing. Though the housing structures were magnificent and the green lawns expansive, the burbs felt empty.

New York, on the other hand, was a whole different experience. New York was beautiful. I hadn’t spent much time in Manhattan since the 80s and the place has cleaned up nicely. The subway graffiti was wiped clean, the streets swept of trash, and even the seediness of Time Square was gone.

As an American, I felt a sense of pride during the time we spent in New York. New Yorkers take a lot of slack for being loud, pushy people but they get things done. The skyscrapers, the architecture, even the subway system that exists as a city beneath the city exemplified the ‘can do’ spirit that made America the land of opportunity. Pohnpei, by contrast, seems to lack drive and ambition and I question whether it will ever achieve any level of economic independence.

Most of all, I enjoyed the New York museums. During multiple trips from Jersey, we visited the Museum of Jewish Heritage, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the American Museum of Natural History, and even a folk art museum. Life in Pohnpei is pleasant but it lacks pure intellectual stimulation. Things are as they are here and there is little reason to give consideration to topics outside the immediate environment. The New York museums were a wonderful change from all that.

Our museum trips provided the opportunity to witness African-American school children consider prejudice from a different perspective as they toured a Holocaust display. At the Met we gazed at Greek sculptures among throngs of New Yorkers taking advantage of free admission on a Tuesday night. At the Museum of Natural History dinosaur skeletons prompted us to contemplate life on a whole different scale. Even the folk art museum provided food for thought. Jazz inspired quilts were on display leading one to consider the ways in which music touches us and inspires our own creativity.

Manhattan is now some 10,000 miles away and I’m on back on Pohnpei. Having been back for ten days now, I’m readjusting to the pace of life and the limitations. You may be wondering how Wenonoa is adapting to life here so I’ve asked her to write a couple of guest blog entries to share her first week here.

My Brand New Used Car

May 27, 2009

There seems to be some magical force that hangs over the island and makes even the simplest of task long and complicated and both frustrating and amusing at the same time. Today the force was with me….

My brand new used car arrived from Japan yesterday so I went to pick it up at the dock this morning. Simple as that may seem, the morning turned into a bit of a scavenger hunt. Luckily I had been forewarned.

The road from our office, which is 5 miles outside of town, passes through town and then heads toward the shipping port area, which is next to the airport. Micronesians seem to take things very literally, so it makes sense that they placed the airport next to the port.

Heading through town, I stop at an auto repair shop a co-worker had recommended to see about getting the oil changed. Who knows when the last time the oil was changed? I find the place, after first stopping at the tire shop next door by mistake, and ask the guy how much they charge to do an oil change.

“$15,” I’m told. That seems too cheap. The cost of labor is next to nothing here, but the oil and filter are still imported goods. Sometimes 15 and 50 sound alike, especially if the listener struggles with accents.

Not sure I heard correctly, I ask, “one five or five zero?”

“One five, $15 to change oil and filter and lube,” he restates.

Since I’m pretty sure I’ve seen oil being sold for $4 a quart and most cars take 4 quarts, this isn’t making sense to me. I just sort of stand there looking confused, trying to figure out what to do next.

Sensing my confusion, he restates, “one five, $15 to change oil and filter and lube.” Then he adds, “Plus the cost of oil and filter.”

It all makes sense now. Micronesians are literal people. I had asked how much they charge to change the oil. Its $15 to change it, plus the cost of the oil.

That issue resolved, I head off to pick up the car. I’ve never had anything imported before so the process is new to me. I’m not sure what it entails in the U.S., but in the FSM this is the process I went through:

Step 1: Go to the transit company’s office with my bill of lading and they stamp it and have me sign that I received the vehicle, which of course at this point in time I haven’t even seen yet.

Step 2- Go to the state finance office where I’m asked whether it’s for business or personnel use. It’s for personnel use so they stamp the bill of lading, no fee.

Step 3 – Go the Custom’s Office. I was told that Customs is in the three story building across from a certain store. I come to a three story building and park. There is no sign out front. I open the door on the first floor and enter a Dept. of Health building. There is no one there so I walk up to the 2nd floor. I open the door and enter another health related office. There is no one there so I walk up the stairs to the third story and enter yet another health related office. There is no one there so I walk down the three flights of stairs and go to the adjacent building, a little one story building.

I ask where the Customs Office is and learn that there is another three story building on the other side of the one story building. Both are across from the store and I had just gone to the first one I saw. The 2nd three story building is set pretty far back from the street so I had never noticed it before. The sign on the door says “National Office of Tax and Revenue”. Close enough. As I walk in, I see there are customer service windows on the right side and on the left. None are marked. I go to the right and am directed to go to the left. I go to the window with the bill of lading and am told I need the invoice. I was expecting this sort of thing so every piece of paper I have related to the car I have brought with me. I retrieve the invoice from the car, return to the window, and pay the import tax (4% of the total cost of bringing the vehicle into the country, including the shipping cost, in case you’re interested).

Step 4 – I’m told to go to the Port Authority. No problem. There is a guard house and gate where the fishing boats dock. The big sign in front says Port Authority. I’ve noticed it before so I know exactly where to go.

I pick up a co-worker who is working on a project in town so that he can drive the office vehicle back to town after I get my car. We head to the port authority guard house and the guard tells me I’m at the wrong place. I need to go to the two-story building next to the airport, which is just up the road a ¼ mile or so. I go to the two-story building (which doesn’t have a sign), pay $11.72 (a formula based on size and weight), and get stamp #4.

Step 5. It’s off to the loading zone, which is only a 100 yards down the road. A friendly guy in the warehouse directs us to the office, which was partially hidden by a shipping container. I pay $30 to the company that offloads freight, get stamp #5, and go back to the friendly warehouse guy. He counts the five stamps, some paperwork is completed, and the car is mine.

The gas gage is on empty and the oil, which I checked, seems dangerously low but town is only around 2 miles away. Fortunately, I have $20 left in my pocket so I can buy 5 gallons of gas. I gas up and drive over to the mechanic’s shop.

No one is working in the shop and the office door is locked. My watch says 11:38. The hours posted on the office door say, “8:00 to 11:30. 12:30 – 5:30.”

No problem. This is actually good. The car only came with one key and I wanted to get duplicates made as soon as possible. I can leave my car at the shop, walk the mile back to where my office car was left, drive the two miles to the hardware store, get the duplicate key made, and return to the shop to let them know which car is mine and to reaffirm the oil change appointment.

I used my last $20 for gas but the bank is between the repair shop and the location of the office car. Perfect, I can get money to buy the duplicate keys, pay the mechanic, and get lunch. Besides, I needed to stop by the bank and see if my checks had arrived yet for the checking account I had opened in March.

My checks weren’t there. I had called in April and they hadn’t arrived. I had called earlier in May and found out that not only had they not arrived, they hadn’t been ordered. They still hadn’t arrived but the nice new accounts rep pulled out her log book and saw that she personally had ordered them after my last phone call. Since, during our previous phone call she had taken the time to investigate why they hadn’t arrived and, in doing so, had found out that they hadn’t arrived because they hadn’t been ordered, I like her.

I’m reassured that they should arrive within a week and that if I need to, they can manually print me some checks. Since I’m out of starter checks and going to the bank requires using up my lunch hour to make the 10 mile round trip from the office, I decide to do the prudent thing. I ask her to print me a few checks. I then learn they are 25 cents a piece. Man of principal that I am, I’m not going to pay 25 cents a check when the reason I need the printed checks is because the bank failed to place the check order.

Though I am a man of principal, I wasn’t a man of either the extra time or the patience it would take to explain how ludicrous it would be for them to charge me the 25 cent fee. Instead, “I’m not paying the fee,” I informed her with no uncertainty in my voice. I add, a little more nicely, “I’ll hold off on the checks for now.”

I still need the cash I originally stopped in to get, so I ask, “Would you please write my account number on a withdrawal slip so that I can withdraw some cash,” I ask. (They don’t have an ATM machine.)

“You can’t use a withdrawal slip for a checking account. You need a check,” she informed me. I could have very easily gotten upset. In fact, some of you (you know who you are) are probably quite surprised that I didn’t explode. I could have easily exploded. The one thing that kept me from getting upset was the fact that she provided me with this information in the most matter-of-fact voice possible.

Her tone intrigued me. We had just had a whole conversation about how the checks were not originally ordered and how the first time I called the customer rep failed to notice that the checks hadn’t been ordered and how I had to call back a second time. After all that, with no hesitation in her voice, no acknowledgement of the irony of the situation, no apology, she simply stated “You can’t use a withdrawal slip for a checking account. You need a check.”

I asked her to print a check. Still amused by the absurdity of the whole situation, I decided to give her the lonely quarter sitting in my pocket rather than make her fill out whatever paperwork the bank would require to reconcile the non-collected fee of 25 cents. About 25 seconds later she came back, having gone to the back to type my name and account number on a blank check. She was very thankful when I gave her the quarter, adding that she was just going to pay it herself.

Cash in my pocket I left the bank to complete my walk to the office car. It started to rain. Hard. My co-worker from earlier this morning had just driven past in his car going in the opposite direction. Nice guy that he is, he turned around and gave me a ride to where the office car was.

To the hardware store. Getting a duplicate key made is usually a pretty simple process. Duplicate keys are made from specific master keys. There are different master keys for different car makes and lock models. The hardware store had between 25 and 50 master keys. They were out of the one I needed. No problem, there is a second hardware store in town. The second hardware store was also out of the master I needed. (Note: I later found a second key in the glove compartment).

It was now 12:30 so I went back to the shop. After explaining and re-explaining and just plain begging the mechanic not to lose the only key to the car I had, I surrendered the key to the mechanic.

That was my morning. The mechanic did not lose the key and I was able to pick up the car after work.

Postscript: Tomorrow I will need to get a license plate for the car. This is a much shorter process that involves only a trip to the police station where they verify ownership papers, do a vehicle safety check (horn, lights, blinkers, etc), and give you a form to take to the state finance office a ½ mile away. After paying the license plate fee at Finance, a person just needs to return to the police office, show proof of payment, and pick up the plates.

Sounds simple, right? Across the street from the police station there is an empty lot. Next to the empty lot there is a small hotel and conference center. An American guy I know had to go to a conference at the center so he parked his car in the empty lot, as people often do. When he came out his car and all the other cars belonging to non-locals that were parked in the empty lot had parking tickets.

Since there was no “No Parking Sign” he walked across the street to find out why they were ticketed. He was told that the lot belongs to the Police Dept., that no parking is allowed there, and that the Police Dept. is saving up to buy a No Parking Sign. The ticket was later dismissed.

I can’t wait until tomorrow. (Postscript: The registeration process was completed in a quick, efficient manner).

Back on the Island

Hello. I'm back on the island after a three week trip to New Jersey. Leaving and returning gave me a fresh new perspective both on life in the U.S. and life in the F.S.M. I look forward to sharing my observations and reflections and will try to get them posted shortly.

Another 5K

Saturday May 23rd

I ran another 5K today. I cracked the top 10, finishing in 8th place (22:23). Prizes were given to the top ten finishers and so I got to take the walk of glory up to the podium. In this case, the walk was the three steps from the parking lot to the entrance way of the sponsoring grocery store, but that made it no less glorious. My prize was a $25 gift certificate to MedPharm Clinic & Pharmacy. Thank you , Palm Terrace Grocery Store and all the other sponsors for your support of physical fitness on the island.

Last month, the race was sponsored by the local college so instead of prizes to the top ten finishers, prizes went to the top 10 college finishers. I’m not sure what place I finished in last month; I think 11th or 12th. Though I like to bask in glory when I feel it’s deserved, I don’t like to take credit when it’s not earned. I’m pretty sure a few of the students who beat me last month weren’t there this month. Their absence may have been the reason I cracked the top ten.

Ironically, on an island where most people are poor and unhealthy, the Medpharm gift certificates were awarded to some of the healthiest (if running ability is any indicator) people on the island. I heard a few people joking that they should have been awarded to the last ten finishers instead.

The choice of awards for the top male/female finishers in each age category is either equally as puzzling or a sad reminder of the link between poverty and unhealthy food choices. The top finishers in the adult age brackets were awarded with 20 pound bags of white rice and the juvenile winners with a case of ramen noodles. I’m not sure if the kids got ramen because it’s a lot lighter and easier to carry than 20 pounds of rice. Rice and ramen are about the cheapest foods a person can buy and are two of the dietary staples here. Unfortunately, white rice turns to sugar during the digestive process and is probably a reason why almost everyone here has diabetes. Ramen has an incredible amount of sodium (I think between 600 and 1200 milligrams depending on the brand and type).

On a positive note, while only the fastest of the fast get the rice and ramen, local bananas were available to everyone and the local ‘local foods’ organization given the microphone and few minutes to remind the crowd of the health benefits of local produce.

Note: For those of you who hang on my every word, have really good memories, and are into running - you might recall that last month I ran a 24:12. The weather gods were kind today. It was a cool, overcast day. Last month was hot, humid, and sunny. The course this month was also different. Last month featured two short but steep hills. This month, the first mile was a long but gentle hill that helped beat back the flip flop brigade and keep my pace in check.

A week in review

Sunday May 17

On a slow Sunday back in Oregon, I would often tune the radio dial to NPR and listen to the news from Lake Wobegon on a Prairie Home Companion. Today, instead, I’ll write the news from island Pohnpei….

Another week has passed on the island of Pohnpei. Though things remain much as they are, there is a sense of change in the air… and of stillness. The trade winds have gone to do their trading elsewhere, having begun to die down towards the end of April. As a result, the air is more still and humidity hangs about. The clouds gather and with no wind to push them past the island, more rain begins to fall.

The change in weather marks the beginning of the end of the school year. For the 8 volunteer teachers here through the WorldTeach program, their time on Pohnpei draws to end. They will be gone in June. In August, fresh new faces will appear.

For many of the ex-pat instructors at the College of Micronesia (COM), summer is a time to return home for a few months. Like migratory birds, they fly off to the land beyond the waters. The yoga instructor is one of those teachers.

As the saying goes, ‘When one door closes, another one opens.’ With no Monday night yoga class I have joined the soccer crowd that gathers almost nightly to play pickup soccer. Saturday afternoon, after a full and active week that included pickup soccer games on Monday and Tuesday nights, exercise class on Wednesday, a good track workout Friday, and a trip to the gym Saturday morning, my aging body said, “enough, its time for a break.”

Late Saturday afternoon, while engaging in the simple act of throwing around a football with the neighborhood kids, I pulled a muscle in my leg. Perhaps there really is a valid reason why mothers tell us not to play in the rain?

With hopes of a quick recovery in time for next Saturday’s 5K, the last of the season, I passed on today’s hike. Instead, today will be a day of rest, recovery, and reflection.

The week had its fill of excitement for your’s truly. Heavy rains on Thursday caused the cancellation of the weekly ultimate Frisbee game so instead I decided to go grocery shopping. As a child, I remember trips to the ‘grocery store’ but somewhere in the passage of time grocery stores were replaced by supermarkets as the aisles got longer, the sides of the stores expanded, the choices multiplied.

Supermarkets, as you know them, don’t exist in Pohnpei. The term grocery store more aptly describes the venues located along main street Kolonia. Both they types and choices of goods are limited. Each store here carries nearly the same basic supplies as the others, but there are just enough variations in selection that a trip from the west end of the main street to the east end is usually needed. For example, the Blue Nile, the westernmost store, is the only store that carries a generic bran flake cereal modestly priced at $1.85 as compared to all other brands which are in the $5 - $7 range.
If you want bread to go along with your morning cereal, you would need to continue east to Palm Terrace, the only store with its own bakery. Palm Terrace also has some dried beans but you need to go to Yoshi’s for lentils.

One day, I felt like baking bread and so I set off on a shopping trip that felt more like a scavenger hunt. My quest for yeast took me to the Blue Nile, Palm Terrace, Wall Mart (named for its proximately to the Spanish Wall), before I found some at Yoshi’s the next to last stop along the road.

My Thursday night shopping trip brought with it a thrill that reminds me of how we can cherish the simple pleasures of life. As I rounded the aisle at Palm Terrace, my eyes swept past the usual selection of potatoes, onions, and garlic and came to rest upon vaguely familiar small reddish circular shaped objects. Tomatoes.

I hadn’t heard that the ship had come in. I’m still not quite dialed in to the coconut wireless communication network so pieces of important information can bypass me - like hearing that the ship came in. Every two weeks are so, a cargo ship arrives and the grocery stores are re-stocked. Usually a limited supply of produce has survived the long voyage, ripening (somewhat) along the way.

Life is often a lesson in learning to be appreciative, of learning to see the glass as half full rather than half empty. I often struggle with this but looking at the small reddish (but still somewhat greenish) tomatoes I felt appreciation. Appreciation and saliva as my mouth began to water at the thought of tomatoes.

These tomatoes lack the heady aroma of vine grown tomatoes fresh from the backyard garden. Having not fully ripened, they are not fully flavorful. Yet, the glass is half full and these tomatoes can add a little something to the typical dinner.

I went to bed Thursday night looking forward to Friday night, the excitement of which would involve cutting these tomatoes into small pieces and adding them to a jar of Pregu spaghetti source. There is no Little Italy section of downtown Kolonia, no Italian Bistros on main street, no mediteranean influence on the local cuisine. Pregu spaghetti sauce spruced up with semi-ripe tomatoes, and maybe some pepper and garlic, spread over macaroni satisfies the occasional craving for an Italian dinner.

I didn’t expect anything more exciting than the appearance of tomatoes in the grocery store to happen for the rest of the week. However, early Friday afternoon, as I looked forward to my tomatoes and the rest of the weekend, I was notified that we (my boss, the chief of our investigative unit, and I) were being beckoned to the President’s Office. Having shaved that very morning, I felt well prepared to make my first trip across the street to the Presidential Office.

Our office was seeking an amendment to an existing law and so had requested that the President submit the proposal to Congress. The paperwork must travel from our office to the Attorney General to the President and we had been forewarned that the A.G. would recommend that the President speak to us if we wanted more information. Hence, I had dutifully shaved each day that week even though it didn’t seem that the paperwork was traveling any faster than the many local drivers who dutifully obey the island’s 25 mph speed limit.

Protocal being protocol even in the small country of the FSM, Haser (my boss) informed Sophia and me that we should let him do the talking. For those of you who know me, I am quite generous when it comes to sharing my opinion. For me to sit quietly through a meeting would be quite unnatural. I mentioned as much to Haser so that he would at least be prepared when I interrupted, as surely I would.

During the course of the meeting I added my two-cents to the discussion and then maybe another dime’s worth. In a world where lobbying is both sport and mercenary activity, I must say it was very satisfying to look a President straight in the eye and speak earnestly from heart, with voice full of conviction and belief that the proposal is in the country’s best interest.

The meeting went well and our bill has been forwarded to Congress.

That’s the news from Pohnpei.