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.