Day 1 - Sunday

I look around and there is just (I apologize for the profanity, but there is really no other alternative, more appropriate word) shit everywhere. The ocean is just a public disposal service that doesn’t charge tax and as I watched the boat dissolve into a speck and disappear behind the surrounding islands, I am beginning to feel the reality of my decision set in – intrusive thoughts that if I would have given credence to before I left might have been compelling enough to dissuade me from coming. I have to be Chuukese. While I realize the paradox in that statement - that I can never actually be Chuukese - for this week, I don’t have a choice – and in the midst of this daunting challenge is where I find my “metaphorical (again I apologize) shit” everywhere – those things that jade my outlook for the next two weeks.

I’m already harboring a heated battle within my conscience between the voice that says “You’re almost there don’t give up now” and “DAMNIT Trunce you are never going to get this.” I’m going to be perfectly honest – it sucks…it is so hard and I know the next 2 weeks are going to require breathing in and breathing out numerous times a day… However, I’m beginning to realize that what I thought would be the greatest challenge – language – seems minute. When I put it all in perspective, I have a personal, spunky 12-year-old tutor (Nanar – Antonia’s daughter stayed behind with me) who is at the perfect age where she’s not afraid to correct me, but smart enough to know she needs to speak slow and repeat. There are children dangling from every tree in the village who really need no standard language for communication, and there are babies who can silently, mindlessly grip your pinkie finger with such passion while grown adults can barely muster enough strength to offer a firm handshake – communication seems to be the least of my problems….

I can’t decide if it’s frustration or gaining a new appreciation for patience. It is one of THE hardest things for me to do – just be. Just sit around. Even for me sitting around is not just sitting around because I’m either listening, speaking or thinking in Chuukese. But for those who already know Chuukese, which is everyone – sitting around seems to be the favorite pastime here and while it in some respects is beautiful, it is absolutely impossible for me– accepting the fact that there is truly nothing else that I need to be doing right now. I don’t know if I can ever say I had a moment like that never mind a lifetime of moments.

The Chuukese lifestyle – simple – different – that is a little harder to adopt – a lifestyle where water is a precious commodity, never mind running water. Refrigerator? Don’t have. Trashcan? Just toss it in the ocean, instead of diapers, babies just pee on the floor, barefoot is the preferred means of transportation – Cars? Don’t have. Hot dogs for breakfast, fingerprints in the breadfruit, outdoor showerhouse – bucket shower, washing dishes with laundry detergent. Soap? Don’t have. Lice cleanings are a family event. Expectorating, flatulating and whatever euphemism there is for nose-picking are not socially taboo. Brush you teeth? I’m embarrassed I have toothpaste – the teeth are rotting out of these kids mouths. Electricity? Don’t have – except for the generator. But really what do you need it for except the daily evening viewing of pirated Jet Li films? First bell for 9:00 mass rings at 9:28 and mass proceeds to start at 10:45…but really what else do you have to do today – the taro will grow itself and the porch will clean itself if it rains.

Comfortable? The comfort in all that is that this is one of the nicest places on Uman. Furthermore, this is not about comfort, but solidarity and this by far is the most “solidified” (I think I just made that word up for the context it is intended to be used) I have ever been. Even with that in mind, this morning when my mind first entered into the consciousness of where I was, I couldn’t help but beg the Lord for just another 5 minutes – I was not ready to get out there and face the day yet. I was not ready to speak Chuukese, be stared at, and pretend I know how to assimilate. In my search for joy in the struggle, I’ve clearly stumbled upon an insolence in myself that I’m not too pleased with….to be bothered by such things so much that I care to complain about them…..