My Little Sister's Little Visit (Part 2)

The second phase of Jenna’s vacation here in Micronesia was to see “real life” conditions of how islanders live. We were going to venture from the cushy hotel comforts and spend a week with my host family on Fefan Island. Jenna has grown up in affluent conditions with little difficulties in her life; she hadn’t ever experienced anything like what she was about to see. However, I was confident that she would be able to handle the poverty stricken foreign environment with respect and humility. She had been on plenty of camping trips, so she knew how to rough it for a few days. My brother and I have assured that she was raised up as a tough and tumble girl, so I figured she could pretty much handle anything. She’s a smart little cookie, and my general philosophy has always been that she can do anything that I can do.

A strange language, conservative cultural expectations, weird food and poor living conditions were awaiting her at my site; but nonetheless she was excited to see a new type of existence. I briefed her on a few things to be prepared for and taught her a few basic Chuukese words. She had a supply of ankle length skirts and sleeved shirts so that she would stay under the radar and keep in line with the conservative Christian customs that permeate our society. She had recently acquired a taste for fish, so the seafood options weren’t intimidating for her. The idea of sleeping on the ground and taking bucket showers also didn’t seem to bother her. In fact, she didn’t seem to be worried about anything. She was ready.

On our half hour boat trip back to my island, the wind picked up quickly and rain clouds came hovering our way. We hurriedly put Jenna’s luggage inside trash bags and protected it from the rain. We skipped along the white-capped waves in our tiny boat and weaved through the swells of ocean that came barreling towards us. The rain clouds above us turned on their faucets and unloaded a flood of showering droplets. The salty sea splashed in our eyes and the rainwater drenched our backs. Eventually, our boat arrived at the crumbling concrete dock of Ununo village and we stepped onto the solid ground of my island abode.

Although it was pouring rain, we were greeted by a flurry of eager young children who were chomping at the bit to meet my American guest. Following their usual manner, they were all too shy to introduce themselves to Jenna, but they all watched closely and giggled as she plodded her way up towards my house. We passed the rusted crane remains on the dock and entered through the towering coconut tree corridor that lines my coral encrusted pathway. The rain slowed its heavy drip and we continued winding our way into the jungle where my house sat on the edge of a small hillside.  Curious eyes and whispering voices chattered through the town as we approached my house.

Jenna and I climbed up the rock staircase and crossed the threshold into my family’s property, Nomwekiin. She glanced at the shabby remains of my once fruitful garden and noticed the palm thatched local house that sat in our front yard. We entered into the dryness of my household and Jenna was introduced to the rest of my host family. All of the kids were too shy to say hello, except the little baby, who uttered in a tiny voice “Helwo, Im Mary”. My other sisters would soon overcome their shy nature and become virtually obsessed with everything that Jenna did or said.

We ate a meal of chicken, rice and lot of local foods. Jenna got to try her first taste of breadfruit. During the next week, I think she ate breadfruit prepared in 5-6 different ways. In addition, she tasted bananas that were cooked in 7-8 various styles. Breadfruit and bananas are the main staples of our diet, so they are quite creative in making tasty combinations of varied consistency and coconut milk mixtures. Jenna was gastronomically adventurous enough to try everything that was put in front of her. She wasn’t a big fan of the breadfruit & taro, but I think she enjoyed the bananas and fish.

Luckily, in Micronesia its not necessary to finish everything on your plate. It is proper manners to try anything that is given to you, but it is entirely ok not to finish it all. Oftentimes for new guests, it is impossible to finish the entire mound of food that is thrust in their face upon first arrival. For Chuukese, the best way to show hospitality is an abundance of food; so as a result, half a dozen plates piled with food are placed in front of the guest when they arrive. However, leftover food never goes to waste here. Either someone will happily grub your extra food or it will be fed to the pig/dog. No waste, its all eaten by someone or something.

The next day, we just relaxed around my house and she got to know the family. Jenna has a knack for playing with kids, and all the children of the community immediately fell in love with her. Her biggest attraction was bracelet making. She brought a large supply of colorful strings to weave bracelets with. At her job in America, she works as a camp counselor and has taught hundreds of young kids to make bracelets, anklets and necklaces. At first the kids were slightly hesitant, but once they saw how easy it was and how cool the finished product was, they all wanted to make one. And when I say all, I really mean all. Not just all the kids in my family, all the kids in the village. Within a day, word had spread about the wonders of Jenna bracelet making. By the second night, there were 10 kids at our house. On the third night, more than 15 came knocking at the door. As the week wore on, fully-grown adults and teenage boys even came by to weave jewelry for themselves. Jenna was putting on a full-blown clinic. Every night, a new group of enthusiastic children would come to our house with a plate of bananas or a bag of fish as a gift. They would timidly ask if they could also be allowed to make a bracelet, and we would happily let them into our weaving circle.

Bob Marley and Rastafarian style is extremely popular here in Micronesia and the majority of the kids wanted to make bracelets of red, yellow and green. Jenna would ask what colors they wanted to use, and their impatient voices would yell, “ I want Bob Marley!” She eventually ran out of those colors and had to convince the kids to try different color combinations. Jenna not only taught these kids to make their own jewelry, but she also helped them speak English. In order to be given the materials for bracelet or necklace making, the kid would have to ask in English, “Please, I want to make a bracelet/necklace/anklet.” Her bracelet classes were extremely popular and I am sure she will be remembered for years by the youth of Fefan.

On Sunday, we took a walk through the other villages in my UFO triad on our way to church. I live in Ununo, and the other villages are Fongen and Onongoch. Together we make the community of UFO. The church is at the far end of the far village and it takes about 45 minutes to get there. Jenna strutted along in her gaudy purplish Mumu and had a chance to see the other houses and villages of my island. Our church is an amazing site to behold on top of its hill overlooking the ocean. Its shimmering white face reflects the sun out towards the crystal clear blue waters of the lagoon. The islands of Faichuk point their smooth curves above the horizon and create a beautiful backdrop to this mammoth religious edifice.

Later that afternoon, we went down towards my dock and played a few games of volleyball. Our court is a small section of the coral road that is the only spot wide enough to string a net across. The ground is uneven and rocky, and the haggard pieces of a net are strung across the road attached to palm trees flanking the court. The conditions of play aren’t ideal, but its still a lot of fun. We lost a couple of times and then went down to the edge of the dock and sat on the grass to watch the sunset. We gazed at the expanse of blue ocean and absorbed the beauty of our tropical surroundings.

The following day, we decided to undertake a serious journey. We were going to attempt to walk around my entire island. Fefan is a very small chunk of land, but it is one of the largest islands in Chuuk. So circumnavigating it on foot is one of the longest walks that anyone can do in the entire state. I had gone “pwen ni fenu”/”around the island” once before when I first arrive here (I think there is already a blog about it, so I wont go into too much detail).

The walk took about 6 hours, so my estimate is that the circumference of the island is about 12 miles. We passed through all four major village centers on the corners of the island: UFO, Fanhip, Sapore, and Sapota. I climbed a few trees, scampered on some large boulders and marched my way along the worn road that goes around the island. Supposedly, this road was once navigable by automobile in its entirety. But those days are long gone. Now it takes a stretch of the mind to imagine a car traversing these narrow rocky pathways. However, there are fairly easily conquered by walking.

On the far end of the island, we played for a while on the red sand beaches. Legend has it that these beaches used to be white, but a huge battle took place at this location and stained the sand with the blood of fallen Chuukese warriors. Our walk took us by monstrous mangos, gnarly rooted mangroves, towering breadfruits, picturesque bananas and droopy-vined banyan type trees. We saw dilapidated tin shacks, colorfully painted concrete houses, and palm frond huts. The coast was lined with either dense swarms of dark mangroves, peaceful strips of white sand, or black rock walls that separated the lush green land from the turquoise sea.  The street was full of naked children, sweaty one-toothed men, and plump tottering woman; as well as mangy snarling dogs, skinny oinking pigs and tiny multicolored lizards. We got to enjoy the full diversity of my island paradise and see just about everything that it has to offer.

A couple days later, we did another strenuous hike to top of the mountain. In previous blogs, I have already described this trek through the jungle to the grassy fields at the summit, so I wont go in detail about every facet of the walk. As I mentioned at previous times, hiking in my jungle is not a walk in the park. It is not a leisurely stroll on a manicured path. It is a backbreaking climb through dense tropical rain forest. It should be more aptly called trail-blazing rather than hiking, because most of the time we are not on a trail. I have been to top of the mountain more than 10 times, but I have never taken the same path on my ascent. Random lines of pre walked ground and trampled underbrush are often visible, but many times we are hacking with a machete through walls of bush to take every step.

The difficulty level of the hike varies every time that I climb the mountain, and luckily this particular one fell right in the middle. It was an arduous journey with wrong turns, slippery rocks and thick plants in our faces; however we didn’t come home with bloody legs, exhausted limbs, and mud spattered cheeks. It was demanding enough to present a tough challenge for Jenna, but it was easy enough to be enjoyable and lighthearted.

My good friend and trusted forest guide, Ainer, led us up to the mountain on this sunny afternoon. We were also followed by four 10-year old kids and my faithful dog that never leaves my side. We slashed through vines, jumped over roots, treaded on grass, ducked below branches and slowly roamed our way towards the peak of our tropical summit. We stopped a couple times to drink coconuts and look out through the jungle canopy to see the sparkling blue water below.

After about 2 hours of hiking, we finally emerged into sunlight at the grassy field on the mountain. From this vantage point, we were blessed with one of the most fantastic views ever seen by mankind. The entire 40 mile circle of the lagoon reef could be seen on this clear afternoon. Dozens of tiny emerald islands were spotted across the vast blue sea. We sat down and let the breathtaking beauty seep into our souls.

The color constrasts of sky, ocean and land were overwhelming to the senses. Jenna and I started at one end of our viewpoint and counted all the different shades of blue that we could see in the water. We stopped counting when we got to more than 10. I don’t think that Crayola has even been creative enough to make up silly names for the hues of blue that were shown in this ocean landscape. Jenna remarked how this was firm proof to her that the ocean was not just “blue”. The ocean was hundreds of blues, greens and everything in between.

And the ocean was only one aspect of the heavenly panorama that stretched before us. The swirling of clouds and variations of color in the sky was equally amazing. Usually, you have to lie on your back and look upwards to see the clouds, and all you can see is the type of fluffy cloud that is directly above your head. When you have an unimpeded ocean expanse in front of you, the sky becomes a whole new wonderland to explore with the eye. There are no buildings, or mountains, or trees to block your site. The horizon can be seen in all directions. Just by gazing outwards, you can see several layers of different kinds of clouds that whirl together in an artistic display of milky white splotches. The vast displays of assorted cloud types are best viewed during a pink & orange sunset, but even during the daytime they are an amazing site to behold.

The concoction of blues in the water and the twirling cloud levels in the sky are stunning, but personally I am charmed by the endless assortment of diverse plants & trees. I love to sit and look at the thick mat of thriving life that covers every inch of our tropical islands. Once again, when you look closely you will notice that the forest is not just green. It is a myriad of greens and browns that meld together in a magnificent display of verdant coloration. The numbers of colors is almost equivalent to the number of living creatures that call the forest home. Wait, no. That is probably a lie. There is a lot of stuff living in these forests.

Whenever I take the time to simply watch the trees and concentrate what’s happening, I am always surprised by the inordinate amount of activity that is taking place in their branches and leaves. Thousands of bugs, birds and lizards are twittering about their daily business on these forest giants. The creative growth patterns and wide range of appearances continue to fascinate my imagination. The jungle is booming with life and if you really pay attention, you catch a glimpse of whats really happening in this biological micro-universe.

After enjoying the Pacific panoramic for a while, we started our journey downwards. The return trip from the top is always easier for two reasons. It is downhill and it’s a hell of lot easier to find the path. We got back home and plopped on the cool floor to relax our aching bodies. We had been pushing our bodies pretty hard the last week and were both physically exhausted. We went to bed early that night and spent the next couple of days lounging around my village.

I had some school responsibilities to take care of and had to attend a couple of meeting. It was no problem for Jenna to spend a few hours alone because she had already established such strong relationships with my host family. They all wanted to spend as much time as possible with Jenna and were constantly worried about when she was going to leave. She helped them speak English, played games with them and did all the little things that youngins like to do.

The last activity that we did was a walk through the mangrove forest. The main reason for going into the mangrove forest is to cut firewood or catch crabs. If you are not doing either of those things, its not too fun to hang out in. The swampy salt water is swarming with mosquitoes and the sloppy mud squeeges between your toes. It is a dark eerie marsh with scraggly trees that are home to millions of bugs. However, the reason why I like to go the mangroves is to look at the roots. The roots of mangrove trees are one of the most astounding things in the natural world. They can thrive in salt water and stick out above the ground. The base of the trees is usually suspended above the water and is held up by an upside down basket of enmeshed root systems. Their twisted fingers and tangled tails seem to be able to take any obscure form. The roots can be flat, tall, long, thick, skinny, straight, twisted and just about anything else that you can think of. They sometimes wrap together and form clumps of what looks like brown wart covered noodles that twirl in a pile. Other times they project upwards and form a bed of spiky sticks in the mud. These demented strands of wood are a natural oddity that never cease to arouse my curiosity and perk my interest in the mystery of biological world.

The only thing that we didn’t get to do on Fefan was go swimming. At this time, we were under the restriction of a cultural funeral observance that disallows fishing and swimming around our community. So unfortunately, Jenna never got a chance to swim on my island. Fortunately, they are some much better swimming spots in Chuuk. And fortunately for us, we were going to the best one.

I’ve told you about Pisar before. Pisar is the closest thing to heaven on earth that I’ve ever seen. Pisar is the place that you have a background picture of on your computer desktop with a palm tree hanging over a sandy beach. Pisar encompasses all things that a daydreaming mind thinks of when imagining a tropical island paradise. It is an isolated island with soft sandy beaches, swaying palm trees and comfortable hammocks. Its warm waters are overflowing with colorful fish and vibrant coral blooms encircle the far edges of the sandy sea floor.

I gathered some of my Peace Corps and JVI friends, and we planned a trip to spend a couple days out on our personal atoll. We bought some food, hopped on a boat, and motored out to the edge of the lagoon. The water was as smooth as could be and I sat on the bow of the boat and leaned over the front as we zoomed headlong into the beautiful blue ocean. During this hour of contemplation while scanning the seas, I had some personal revelations about how I want to live my live and what I want to do with my future. (but that description can wait for another time).

We slid into the shallow waters surrounding Pisar and I leapt out of the boat and pulled her up on the sand. We unloaded our stuff into the bungalow area and then set upon a rigorous schedule of relaxation and chillin. I took off my shirt and shoes when we arrived and vowed to not put them back on again; this has become a Pisar tradition for me that I hope to continue upon my future visits. We immediately dove into the water and waded around in the warm shallows until the sun began to drop behind the clouds. We all sat in knee deep water together and watched as the sky turned orange and the clouds lit up with reds and pinks. This was surely paradise. This was what most of you imagined Jenna would be doing while on vacation in Micronesia. This is what most of you wished you could be doing right now.

We snorkeled around the coral, did some spear fishing, and walked out to the crashing waves on the reef edge. We collected sea shells, climbed coconut trees and gazed at the stars at night. I lounged in an inner tube and let the current float me in a circle around the island. We did a lot, but at the same we did a lot of nothing. That’s the beauty of relaxation. And Pisar is the perfect place for relaxation.

Overall, I would say that Jenna’s trip was a smashing success. It was a refreshing change for me to see a loved one from home, and really gave me a new perspective on my life as a Peace Corps. We got to scuba dive and see unbelievable shipwrecks enshrined in arrays of colorful coral. We got to spend a week on my island and have my “real” family from home finally meet my “host” family from Chuuk. And we finished it all off with a relaxing picnic on an island of our own.

I cant tell you exactly what Jenna thought of the whole thing or what she enjoyed the most, but I am pretty sure she had a great time. What I can tell you is that she made an amazing impact in her short time here. My volunteer friends loved her and were impressed by how mature she acted the whole time. My family adored her and my community wont stop talking about her. My little host sister’s continue to mimic her actions and have already started arguing about who is going to be the first one to go visit Jenna in America some day.

Now my adventurous summer of island hopping, visitors coming and traveling has come to an end. Im back in school and concentrating on all my secondary projects. Im back to the life of a Peace Corps volunteer in Micronesia.