Nahlap Island

I used to have a small Japanese zen garden on a carved wooden tray in my office, the kind with

small stones and a little wooden rake with which to comb the sand. My board of directors gave

it to me and I wondered at the time if their purpose was to appeal to my design aesthetic or in

knowing I was too busy to take a vacation try to provide me with a tranquil environment.

Whatever the reason, the small tray was appreciated if not actually used.

Recently I had an adventure that made me feel as if I had stepped into a little zen garden surrounded by a clear, calm ocean and alive with tropical fauna.

Nahlap is a small island protected from waves by Pohnpei’s outlining atolls.

We journeyed with friends by car for 40 minutes from Kolonia and then by boat for 15 minutes before arriving.

My first impression was that it looked peaceful and I was happy we chose to spend the day there. I took my daughter out of school for the occasion because while academics are important to us, there are some things (making great memories being one) that are more important than school.

The island is speckled with little blue cabins and interlaced with paths lined by coral, shells and volcanic rocks. We walked through tunnels of trees on paths of

freshly combed sand on our way to the beach. The water is shallow for a long distance out and the kids had a blast finding shells, sea cucumbers and bright blue starfish.

We had a fun picnic before walking back across the island to use the ocean slide. The slide is little more than half of a large pvc pipe, but so much more in terms of fun with speeding down and splashing into the ocean then swimming to the ladder to repeat the process.

I jogged back across the island to tell the driver we were

ready and I noticed that the path was again freshly raked. In fact, upon my return to the dock the footprints I had made ten minutes prior were gone, replaced by even rows of mini furrows. It seemed a strange phenomenon, as I had not seen anyone on

the island hurriedly tending the sand. The boat driver told me a woman lives on the island to take care of it and she is the one who comes the sand after people walk on it. I wonder if she likes to erase marks in the sand or if she feels like I do after I sweep and mop and then something is spilled on and tracked over the floor to make my efforts useless unless repeated.

Then I wonder what the invisible caretaker would think of a tabletop zen garden and if it might look like more work to her. If someone is raised in a tropical paradise, do they see the beauty in it as much as an outsider, or more?

To plan a trip to Nahlap from Pohnpei: Contact A&P Construction( 320-6388 ) to reserve a boat to and from the island. The cost is $5 per adult and $2-3 per child with those under two being free. It is recommended to call a few times to reconfirm the boat appointment or they might not follow through. The small blue huts for rent are $10/night. You can have small fires for barbeques and there is a tank of fresh water for showers. Bring drinking water and camping gear. Camping hammocks (like Hammockbliss)with built-in mosquito netting and rain cover are ideal.

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.

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.