Come Again Another Day

I really cannot overemphasize how much it rains here. It makes sense, though, if you consider how much direct sunlight there is, combined with the fact that Pohnpei is surrounded by water for thousands of miles in every direction. That, and the interior of the island is mountainous, which affects the weather pattern in such a way as to empty the clouds.

Every day we get hit with at least a couple hours of what can be accurately described as a torrential downpour. If they got rain like this in Michigan, they would close schools and tell people to stay off the roads. There would be flash flood warnings. Bingo games in church basements would be canceled. Similarly, if they got rain like this in Los Angeles, the local news would call it Rain-mageddon, or something equally stupid. The city would unequivocally shut down. Indeed, one of my least favorite parts about living in L.A. was the fact that it never rains. Now I suppose I'm making up for that.   

In Pohnpei, the rain is just a part of daily life. It never sprinkles, and the weather rarely even gives hints that it's going to start raining soon. One minute, it's sunny, and the next, you are completely drenched... and it may also still be sunny. I've never owned an umbrella before, because frankly, I've never considered myself the kind of person who is bothered by a little bit of rain; here, however, I take an umbrella with me to school every day, because just about every day, I actually need it. Otherwise, I'd show up to teach in clothes that are completely saturated or have a laptop that no longer worked.

The drinking water in Kolonia, logically, comes from the rain. There are big reservoirs that catch the precipitation, where it is then dispensed through the city pipes. Personally, I do drink the tap water when I'm at work, but for the kids' sake, we also buy purified water for use at home. It only costs $1.50 to have a five gallon container filled, and some places even deliver.

The Sandman Cometh

For the first month that we were here, I don't think any of us got a good night's sleep. There were three main reasons for this:

1. Even in the summer, we're used to it getting a little bit cooler at night. Seventy-five isn't what I would consider good sleeping weather. That has taken some getting used to. In fact, this blog could also reasonably be called, "a life without pajamas."

2. The bed that Jamie and I had in the first house that we were renting not only smelled like a cheap motel room, but it was also hands down the least comfortable mattress I've ever encountered. If you've ever seen a mattress sitting out by a dumpster and thought, "If I put sheets over it, the stains won't even be visible," then you might have a lot in common with our previous landlord.

3. Chickens. Just like how there are wild turkeys in Michigan, Pohnpei has feral chickens. Every morning, without fail, somewhere between 4:30 and 5:00, one of the roosters would start out the competition as to which of them could crow the loudest. Inevitably, at least one of them would be right outside our window, cock-a-doodle doing when I'd wish more than anything that it would cock-a-doodle don't. To be honest, I didn't think I had it in me to harbor such an intense hatred for chickens. I'm only vaguely familiar with the book, "Chicken Soup for the Soul." Does anybody know if it included any recipes for wild roosters?

In any case, I'm happy to report that we have since moved into a new house. We've now got fans in our bedrooms, Jamie and I have a much better mattress, and since we're living in a slightly more "urbanized" area, the wild chickens aren't nearly as much of an issue. That is to say that they travel in smaller flocks here. 

I will say that every time I've had barbecue chicken since, I think the sweet taste of revenge makes it all the more delectable. Of course, now we have the barking packs of stray dogs to deal with…  but even though man's best friend is also considered man's fourth best source of protein here, don't expect a blog post called "Dog, the Other White Meat," anytime soon.

How about that weather?

I've never lived in a tropical climate before. To be perfectly honest, before coming to Micronesia, I had never even been anywhere tropical, so as you can no doubt imagine, living on a small island situated less than seven degrees north of the equator has required a bit of an adjustment. 

I grew up in Michigan, where the first snowfall usually comes around Halloween and the ground doesn't begin to thaw until mid-April. In case you're keeping score, that's about six long months of winter, give or take. 

Don't get me wrong, Michigan is beautiful, but the seasons there, in my opinion, are grossly disproportionate. Spring and fall go by far too quickly, and the two months or so of summer in the upper midwest are often marked by sweltering temperatures coupled with oppressive humidity, during which the mosquitos make the most of their brief existence. 

The wild fluctuation or extremes in temperature that has been a daily consideration virtually every day of my life isn't so much of an issue here. That is to say that there's no heat index of a hundred and ten and no forty degree changes in weather in matter of a day. Just eighty-five degrees with at least an hour or two of heavy rain every day, then seventy-five or so at night. It's predictable to the point of rendering weather forecasts virtually useless. 

Everywhere on the island, vegetation abounds. Cars that die on the side of the road are consumed by plant life. In a very literal sense, it's unquestionably the greenest place I've ever been. The air is fresh, cleansed by a substantial amount of daily rainfall, and my allergies have been almost non-existent since we've been here. 

Of course, there's a part of me that will undoubtedly miss wearing jackets, sweaters and jeans... and maybe even socks. I might even miss snow at some point. But I will say that even though it's not difficult to break a sweat here, there's very little self-consciousness that comes with walking into a store and looking like you ran a mile to get there.  

This brings me to a broader point, which is that the weather in Micronesia isn't really a topic of constant concern, nor is it the material of idle banter between strangers. On any given day, I can plan on wearing shorts and sandals and either getting wet or bringing an umbrella. I do expect, however, that the longer we're here, the more conscious thought I'll have to apply in remembering what month it is, and by the time we return to the U.S., it will probably feel good to wear a jacket again.

A Damp Word on Humidity

As it rains 200 inches of rain per year on the outskirts of sunny Pohnpei, Micronesia and 400 plus in the inner rainforest, things are likely to be a bit humid. We brought along an excellent thermometer/hygrometer (measures temperature and humidity) device mainly out of concern for the electronic equipment that should not be in humidity levels of 90%. I can report with assured accuracy that the temperature during the day is between 80° and 98° Fahrenheit (26.7 -34.4° Celsius)  in sunlight, a fairly constant 82° in the shade and 75° F at night, the temperature is between 73° and 82°F (22.8- 27.8° C). A quantitative response to, “So what is the humidity like?” is that it is between 78% and 90% humidity. There you have it. Unless you have been here or somewhere like India during Monsoon season, the humidity percentages are meaningless, so a better response is a qualitative one represented by anecdotal evidence of humidity.

Top ten reasons I know it is humid…

10. Even if it is not raining my skin feels damp.

9. My son set a potato chip down on the kitchen table and 30 minutes later I went to steal it to eat myself, but by then it was soggy and floppy.

8. When we first moved in I had to bleach the house. Ceilings, windows, walls and floors. Not everything was moldy, but the few spots were enough for me to go all Mr. Clean on a Rambo mission. Note: wear protective eye gear when bleaching ceilings.

7. The guitar strings need wd40 every week to keep the rust at bay and the pick guard has slowly slid three inches from its original spot. 

6. People here keep the cereal, flour and most dry goods in the refrigerator. The dry spices need to be kept in the icebox to prevent caking, or bricking rather.
5. Moss grows on concrete and asphalt and Mold grows inside quite easily, hence the bleach. Counter intuitively, it is worse inside places that leave the windows closed with air conditioning. Since I bleached the house we have not had any mold grow back in over a month.

4. The glue holding the soles of shoes on seems to slowly melt away

3. Paint does not stick well to things. Wall paint blisters and slumps away from the walls.*

2. All of our unused envelopes have sealed themselves and the toilet paper set to the back of the tank actually molded.

1. I know it's humid beacuse 10 - 22 percent more and we'd be swimming.

There is an upside to humidity.

There is less dust.

Zach's allergies have not once bothered him since we have been here.

My lips don't feel like they need lip balm

and the bottoms of my feet are soft like a baby's bum.

No complaints, just need to get more t.p., again.