Betel Juice, Betel Juice, Betel Juice!

Chewing the betel nuts (seeds of the areca palm) is an ancient part of the Micronesian culture.

Spitting blood red betel nut juice is culturally acceptable here on Pohnpei. For young and old ladies, men and kids to spit near you is commonplace. An expert chewer could spit the butt off a termite; their force and aim are that good.

That is something I'd like to see.

Chewing is part of the culture. People sit around, tell stories, chew and spit, chew and spit. Many long-time chewers have the most amazing ability to simultaneously chew a large wad of betel nut and talk without drooling on themselves or spraying spittle.

The betel nut grows on palm trees and is sold in almost every small store.

The waxy green seed pod is bitten in half with a crunch, sprinkled with ground coral (yes, coral!) known as “powdered lime” and frequently topped with a half of a commercial cigarette and then covered by a pepper leaf.

Mouth cancer is prevalent here and between chewing betel nut and eating a diet high in sugar, soda and salt, hardly anyone's smile is looking healthy. Even young kids have rotted out teeth. The people who do not chew frequently and bush their teeth and eat healthfully have great teeth and great smiles.

I did try betel nut one time. The buzz is like a cigarette. I can't say that I enjoyed it, I just thought I should try it if I was going to make an opinion of it. It was acidic, bitter, chlorophylly, hard and stringy. I am culturally trained to not spit in public, but my saliva glands went immediately to overflow-rinse-out mode. I had to spit red staining juice off the mat at a cultural event where not a few eyes were on me to see how the white lady is going to do with the betel nut. I did make it a troubled 10 minutes before taking the two-year-olds to the bathroom and then spitting the mouthful out behind the building. It was such a relief. I realize this is not enough to form a solid opinion, but I've now had a taste of it and that may be enough.

Sakau

Last Friday, I tried sakau for the first time. Sakau is the local intoxicant of choice, similar to kava, made from the pulverized, strained roots of a pepper plant. Several Pohnpeian traditions involve the drinking of sakau, and for many, it's also a good way to end the work week.

I went with my father-in-law, who is here to visit, and a group of friends, all menwai (the local word for foreigners). We arrived at one of the local sakau markets at about six pm, where we ran into the current governor of Pohnpei. I was told that because they use the same root all night, the sakau is strongest the earlier you go - kind of like if you were to make coffee by using the same grounds over and over. By the end of the night, it apparently gets pretty watery.

Ours, however, was thick like mud. To be honest, it even kind of looked and tasted like mud, and actually probably did contain a fair amount of dirt. The tradition is that the oldest person at the table drinks first, then passes around the coconut shell from which we all take a drink. It's apparently bad luck to finish the cup, so someone comes around and refills it before it ever gets completely empty… and by "bad luck," I suspect they mean that it's particularly nasty for whoever gets a mouthful of the sediment at the bottom of the cup.

The standard rate is ten dollars for as much as you can drink, and being that this was my first time, I really didn't know where my limits were. I had been told that sakau doesn't really affect you the first few times you drink it, but I quickly found this to not be the case. Within ten minutes, my lips were numb, followed shortly thereafter by my mouth and the back of my throat. Pretty soon, I think my entire brain was a bit numb.

When I stood up to use the restroom, I walked like a baby moose in wet cement. My motor functions were definitely impaired, but I could nonetheless continue to think relatively clearly, enough that I could watch myself move like this and be kind of amused by it. At this point, the numbness had spread throughout my body to a certain degree, and I felt very relaxed. My brain was flooded with endorphins. Overall, it was a very pleasant sensation. Once you get past the taste, I could see why a lot of people do this every Friday.

After a few hours of drinking sakau, we walked back to my friend's house, where we had a couple of beers, which is apparently also part of the tradition. This, I believe, was my big mistake. Before long, it felt like a fight was breaking out in my stomach, as if some jerk had crashed the party and was looking to cause some trouble. That jerk's name was San Miguel Light. By the time I got home, a full-blown riot had broken out in my digestive system, enough to supersede my otherwise serene state of mind. By about three a.m., the sakau wanted out, and as much as I dislike vomiting, I was happy to oblige. After that, I was finally able to get to sleep.

Overall, it was a fun experience, right up until the part where I got sick. The next day, we were all pretty tired, too. In fact, we cancelled our plans to go hiking and kayaking in favor of laying around doing nothing all day. By Sunday, I was still feeling kind of groggy, but at least the queasiness had subsided.

Would I do it again? It's hard to say. To be perfectly honest, just writing about this has recalled the sense memories of getting sick, so if I ever do drink sakau again, it will have to be far enough into the future that the mere thought of it doesn't make me queasy. Of course, I now have a better sense of my limits and know that I probably shouldn't drink beer afterward, but as fun as it was, I can't say that I have any desire to do this again anytime soon. Nonetheless, I'm thankful for the experience.
 

Black Coral Island

We went on a weekend camping excursion to Black Coral Island. A 25-minute boat ride from Palikir brought us to this tiny island inside of Pohnpei’s protective atolls.

It is a very small island; to walk across the diameter takes all of two minutes. There are three nice nahs (wooden huts with thatch roofs) in which to sleep, another for cooking and yet another to eat under that has a stage-like area built into it. The kids climbed low-branched trees, collected seashells and put on mini plays like the Three Billy Goats Gruff. It was thoroughly entertaining.

The snorkeling was excellent, five-foot shark included. The bright fish and multi-textured corals are stunningly beautiful. Were this the only perk I would gladly revisit, but the experience was more enjoyable by the company we kept.

We arrived at low tide and treaded through the water with our gear to get ashore. At high tide I was concerned that the island might submerge, but it was safe (at least until more damage is done to the polar icecaps.) Without electricity we made our own fun by talking and relaxing, reading and dreaming. It is a peaceful place without noise, air or light pollution and the stars put on a glamorous display. The kids slept very well in hammocks while I roughed it on my yoga matt.

Black Coral island is not a resort, you need camping gear and your own food and water. A propane stove and flashlights are also good to bring, but once you’ve loaded up everything and arrived, it is well worth the effort.

Island Fever

Being trapped on an island (when you think of it like that) can seem claustrophobic. When you are just itching to get off island, it’s called Island Fever. If it is an actual fever, you might need to see a doctor because it is probably something else. It seems more common with expatriates (people living ou

tside of their home country) who have not left the island in over a year and people who don’t have many hobbies. This is just a hypothesis, as I have not yet experienced Island Fever. Sure, it would be nice to visit the places our friends hop off to on holiday, but it is also interesting to be here. My life here feels a bit like a vacation at times. Maid service would be nice, but we are exploring and learning more about

the culture all the time. I have projects, crafts, exploring and a family to keep me busy, but it is the

friendships that make this island feel comfortable.

When far from family and one's own culture, people reach out to one another with social events and clubs. This is true to a varying degree in different countries, and it is certainly true here in Pohnpei, Micronesia. This community acts as a surrogate family and provides a sense of stability and support. We just need to remember to not overfill our calendar. I literally pencil in time to be creative and some time to sit alone with my thoughts.

Some of the things to do here include: international dinner nights, running races, soccer, cooking club, girl scouts, Tae Kwon Do, play group, ladies' night, volunteering, sunset cruises, Rotary club, badminton and lots of kayaking, snorkeling, scuba, hik

ing and surfing. Activities, invitations and notices are posted on the Pohnpei Google groups email list.

It is good to feel like we are a part of a welcoming and dynamic community. Island life is very laid back, but this hardly seems to slow down the local expatriates. There is much to love about Micronesia and Pohnpei in particular, but my favorite aspect is the people, both foreign and native. My life is richer because of them. We have all trav

eled a very long way for our paths to cross here.