island living

I have been off Satowan for one week now, and I can safely say that, although being connected with news and family has been a huge emotional boost, I can’t wait until I get back out there. Truth be told, I did not expect such a powerful pull to draw me back – at least, not this soon. Maybe the ocean currents have seeped into my blood, and like the undertow after a big wave breaks on the reef, my subconscious is saying ‘go back, go home.’

Landing in Pohnpei on Monday was a HUGE culture shock. That sentence alone might not mean much, but realize two things: Pohnpei is the size of Swartz Creek, and Satowan is the size of (if not smaller) than the United Methodist Church of Swartz Creek. If you can imagine living inside a community the size of the church for 3 months, and then exiting the front doors one day and rediscovering Swartz Creek, you might just be in for a surprise. Seeing cars, taxi drivers, other “Western” people, restaurants, hustle-and-bustle, and signs was like information overload. In some ways, it stands as a harbinger of the culture shock yet to come when I arrive back stateside after my service. The familiarity and intimacy you get from being in such close quarters to so few people explodes into a dizzying anonymity when you leave the comfort zone.

Now I am back in Weno, and I feel more comfortable here, even though Chuuk is basically a failed state, in terms of development, economics, and politics. [I’ll save my observations on the political scene (we are in a run-off election right now) for private emails and conversations.] Weno is much smaller than Pohnpei, and I am more “at home” here, with a host family, faces and people that I recognize from my earlier 3 months of training, and, of course, a common language that ties it all together. In no small way, communication represents the defining linkage between me and my community here in Micronesia; as my language understanding and vocabulary improves, so, too, does my sense of relationship and connection. Without these attributes, I wouldn’t have lasted as long as I have, nor would I have the strength, will, or desire to continue on.

Lest I paint a picture of roses without thorns, I must be honest that the first three months have been a difficult stretch. Peace Corps warned us that the initial weeks of service would be the toughest – initial culture shock, difficulty of being immersed in a new language, emotional stress of being without contact/communication, and having to deal with new stresses without the ability to rely on old stress-relief mechanisms. I am now officially a professional in each of the four preceding categories, having struggled, at times valiantly and at times like a baby, through it all. Like the last post, I feel like I have come through the Refiner’s fire, and I’m shining like new! Hopefully my personal development will be somewhat evidenced in these posts as I reflect on the past three months and answer your questions. Keep ‘em coming!

Love,
Alex