Musical Interlude

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked to participate in a Mid-term Musical Respite at the College of Micronesia by performing a few songs. Here I am playing "The Perfect Space," by the Avett Brothers: 

That, ladies and gentlemen, is my best approximation as to how one might rock a conference room.

If they do this again next semester, I'd like to perform some original material that I've been writing on a borrowed banjo. Stay tuned.

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

In many ways, teaching at the College of Micronesia is very similar to teaching at a college in the U.S., but there is one notable distinguishing characteristic that I'd like to point out. In my relatively brief tenure so far as a college instructor, nowhere else have I ever walked into my classroom to find a stray dog sleeping on the floor.

I tried whistling. I tried clapping loudly. I even poked it with my umbrella. Nothing seemed to work. The dog, while clearly still alive, wasn't going anywhere. Of course, it just so happens that I was holding my class in the computer lab that day and just needed to write that on the board so that the students would know where to go. I also included a note that they should probably leave the dog alone.

Stray dogs are pretty common here, much like they were in Moldova. In fact, it seems that the further you are in the world from Bob Barker, the more of an issue said dogs become.

If anyone is interested, I'm considering writing a series of essays about the disparities and congruencies between the two aforementioned nations, each an orphan state of twentieth century superpowers, situated on opposite ends of the western world. Both physically and metaphorically, I think the idea of American culture resides somewhere in the middle, while the similarities between Moldovans and Micronesians (and Michiganders, while we're at it) may indicate something about our common human nature - beyond my own personal, inexplicable affinity for places that begin with the letter M that the spell-check doesn't seem to think are real.

Outside of the [Idiot] Box

Right before we came to Micronesia, we moved all of our belongings from one storage location to another. It was all rather anticlimactic, and since there was only limited space in the moving truck, we had to prioritize. As a result, our TV was among the casualties, as we left it sitting next to a dumpster with a small sign indicating that it was free to anyone who wanted it. Maybe we'll buy a new television when we get back the U.S., or maybe we won't. At this point, I have to say, though, I don't really miss it.

Granted, we have a computer for watching the occasional movie or letting the kids watch Curious George or Bill Nye, the Science Guy, but for the most part, other than when I'm listening to or playing music, it tends to be relatively quiet around our house... considering, of course, that we have two young children. Conversely, when we lived in the U.S. (and Moldova, for that matter), even though we weren't exactly couch potatoes by any means, it had become all too easy to just turn on the TV whenever we weren't actively doing anything else and then leave it on for far longer than anyone originally intended.

My point here isn't to come across as some elitist television-hating snob, but I will say that in the absence of a TV, we do get an awful lot of reading done. In fact, it seems like we all have significantly more spare time to do all kinds of genuinely rewarding activities - like talking to one another, writing and making minor works of refrigerator art - as a direct result of not having a television in our house. It's almost as if there are more hours in a day without it.

Consider, too, that one way or another, many shows are also available online, so if we really want to see something, it's not like we're really missing out. If we want to watch The Daily Show or Community or whatever, we can do so on the computer. For the most part, though, it's pretty easy to forget about the inane distractions that could easily consume an idle weeknight. This may be obvious, but I tend to be of the opinion that the vast majority of television shows are absolute garbage.

Frankly, though, it wasn't even the shows that bothered me so much as the constant advertising. Of course, television is a medium that was built around commercials, with which it has maintained a symbiotic relationship ever since. Television, as a whole, exists for the express purpose of selling stuff. Any entertainment that may fill the space between advertisements is merely a byproduct of the original objective.

I know I'm not alone in the degree to which I loathe the audacity of commercials, the entire function of which is to try to trick people into buying more things that they don't really need. This is especially true now that we have two young children that we really don't want exposed to that kind of crap. Yes, call me irrational, but television commercials make me angry, as does any actual human being who blatantly lies to and/or manipulates the masses for his or her own monetary gain.

On a sidenote, though, I do miss our Wii, but then again, I'd probably rather not think about all of the wasted hours I've spent playing Excite Truck or You Don't Know Jack. However, if anything compels me to buy a television when we return to the U.S, this would probably be it. Who knows, though? I can't help but feel like our kids might be better off if they grew up not coveting the crap they see advertised on TV or subscribing to the images promoted by mainstream media. Maybe we all would.

Higher Education

The College of Micronesia, where I teach, is accredited by the Western Association of Schools and Colleges, which means that they are expected to maintain the same academic standards as colleges in California, Oregon, Washington and Hawaii. Roughly ninety-nine percent of the students here qualify for Pell Grants through the U.S. Department of Education, as it is income-based, which in turn provides the school with much needed funding. The students then take home the difference between what is covered by the Pell Grant and what the school actually costs, which can mean a refund for as much as a thousand dollars per semester. This helps offset the economic reality of inflation and extremely low wages by providing what amounts to a supplemental income for families with one or more members of the household attending college. I have no problem with that. Unfortunately, though, it also seems that the Pell Grant refund may be the single most significant motivating factor for a large number of the students here to attend college in the first place. I say this because after the checks were issued, attendance in a couple of my classes diminished considerably.

Granted, this is mostly speculation on my part, but the timing is rather hard to ignore. Meanwhile, since the college is also desperate for revenue, it would seem that they have little choice but to be complicit partners in this exchange. Quite frankly, without the Pell Grant, the College of Micronesia would cease to be. However, as I suggested, this also makes for a larger percentage of students who don't really want to be here. In that sense, it's almost more like high school than it is college, and when you consider how ill-prepared many of these students are for college-level writing, I have had my work cut out for me, to say the least.

Of course, now that my classes have been whittled down to those who actually do want to be here, this has considerably changed the dynamic - and those that do want to learn have proven to be relatively adept at it. With that said, I maintain hope that all of my remaining students will be writing at a level indicative of a college education by the end of the semester, and also that those who dropped out may see a value in higher education that goes beyond the instant gratification of a refund check - before it's too late for them to receive continued financial aid.

If I didn't believe that there was a benefit for these students to learn this stuff, I wouldn't be here. However, and this is probably true just about anywhere, on some level, I can only effectively teach those who genuinely want to learn, who are ready for the responsibility of being college students. I recognize that it's not for everybody, but for those who choose to get more out of this than a mere refund check, it provides a rare opportunity for long-term upward mobility, and from a broader economic perspective, it can also be viewed as an critical investment in human capital. I only wish that more people would take advantage of the education as opposed to simply taking advantage of the educational system.   

Driving in Circles

I can't say that Jamie and I were all that surprised when Speed Racer, our borrowed/abandoned car with a duct tape racing stripe, failed to start. The ignition was one of the last electric functions of the car that still worked, and even then, it was pretty temperamental. Luckily, it was parked in front of our house when it quit, which is where it will likely remain indefinitely, at least until our landlord wants to do something with it. Like many other parts of the island, our front yard is starting to look like a place where cars go to die (particularly because the people who own the house have another non-functioning car parked there as well).

On the bright side, last week, we finally got the car that we ordered from Japan. Now that it's all said and done, I can admit that I was a little worried about having sent nearly three thousand dollars via wire transfer to a company in Japan with whom I had never before done business for a car of which we had only seen pictures. The closest thing we had to a guarantee that we would ever see the vehicle that we ordered was an emailed receipt, but based on the luck we had had so far with cars here in Micronesia, I wasn't all that confident.

For our Mazda Demio's maiden voyage, we took a trip around the island. Considering that there's just one main road that runs the entire perimeter of Pohnpei, it seemed like it would be difficult to get lost. However, that didn't stop us from inadvertently turning down some side roads that led nowhere, one of which involved driving in reverse for about a half mile between rows of parked cars with about an inch of clearance on each side, made all the more complicated by pedestrians who were curious what this family of white people was up to. 

Although I admit that it was interesting to see more of the island, that which we saw wasn't really that different than anything else that we had already seen, at least superficially. That is to say that a house on the south side of Pohnpei looks remarkably similar to a house on the north side, and virtually anywhere you go, you're likely to encounter potholed roads surrounded by rainforest and the occasional village, each of which seems to differ only in its fluid multi-syllabic name. Alohkapw, anyone?

Of course, it only cost us about a half of a tank of gas to drive all the way around the island, plus one entire afternoon, but it was an excuse to get out of Kolonia for the day. Having been without a car for most of our time here so far, I will say that our immobility only increased the overall sense of being stuck. That is, not only are we on a tiny little island in the middle of a vast ocean, but we were also confined to the areas to which we could comfortably walk with two young children. It was a very small world indeed.

Now that we have a more reliable vehicle, if we start to get stir crazy, we can at least go for a drive. Granted, the extent of this is the aforementioned sixty mile circle around the island, down some terrible roads marked by a severe shortage of public places to stop and rest, but it was at least something a little different for a change, and it provided a much-needed break from what had been a series of automotive misfortunes.

With that said, I should note that we did get a flat tire about ten miles from home, only to learn that our new car had not been equipped with a tire iron when it left Japan. A local guy was kind enough to help us out, but by the time we had the spare on the car, rather than go out to eat, we decided that we were ready to go home. We had had enough adventure for one day.  

Like taking ripe fruit from a tree

Ripe edibles are plentiful here. There are multiple growing seasons and if you know what to look for and how to prepare and eat it, with minimal effort you will have plenty to eat.

The house we lived in for the first month we were here had papaya, coconut, something-like-an-apple and lime trees in the yard. I love to cook with lime, so this was a blessing. We learned the hard way that the variety of lime tree on Pohnpei is loaded with one-to-three-inch thorny barbs. Yikes!

In our new house’s yard we have breadfruit, lemon, guava and banana and noni trees. When the breadfruit is overly ripe it falls to the ground with a thudding splat. The smell of the rotten fruit is surprisingly pleasant. The base scent is of ripe passion fruit and the underlying scent of that of sweet rotten apples. I would literally wear the scent as a perfume. Eau du Ferment anyone?

I have never been a big banana fan. It would have to be a near empty fruit bowl for me to select one for myself to eat.

For me, both of the varieties that are common in U.S. supermarkets do not have a super flavor and the texture is pasty, almost chalky. I wish I could have seen my own expression the first time I tried a banana here in Micronesia. Wow, hello multiple facets of flavor and silky mouth feel! Where have you been all my life? There are over 33 different kinds of bananas grown here and the few table bananas I’ve tried have multiple notes to the palate that range from lime to sugarcane.

To harvest bananas the whole tree (technically a rhizome) is cut down. And the banana stem is cut into sections to hang from a strip of hibiscus bark as a makeshift rope. A very strong rope. The banana flower can be cooked and eaten.

This is the karrot banana and it is so good it'll knock your socks off clean and into the washer. It is ripe when mushy to the touch, red on the outside and bright orange on the inside. It is delightful plain and is the best banana I have ever baked with.

I have always enjoyed fresh pineapple. Micronesia has the sweetest pineapples I have ever tasted. At the market I smell the bottom of the pineapple to determine ripeness. That’s right, I’m not too proud to sniff a pineapple butt. A pineapple should smell like a ripe, juicy pineapple. To eat it, I lob off the top and bottom and cut off the outer skin removing as little of meat as possible. Then, using a small flathead screwdriver, I pluck out the hard to digest seed pockets. To grow a pineapple tree. Simply plant the top of the pineapple.

There are many more fruits here I have yet to explore. I have heard of avocados as big as a softball. There are Noni and Starfruit trees across the street at the botanical garden and the market has several other interesting offerings that I have yet to investigate. One fruit at a time.

Fruit for breakfast, fruit for snack, fruit for dessert. Life is sweet.