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.