Today's word is "REMOTE"

I was sitting outside, breathing in the freshly scented air with strains of the many flowers blooming in Chuuk, when I was overcome by feelings of being remote.  The remoteness of these Pacific islands is palpable.  I am one-third of the way around the planet from my home and family, and that is far enough to make it impossible to reach out and touch someone.  If we were farther west, we would actually be closer to "civilization" in the presence of the Philippines, Indonesia, Malaysia, and the Asian continent.  If I were asked to point to the part of the globe that is most remote, I would point somewhere near here.
Remote is such a well-worn word; we use it as a one-word noun to mean that electronic device we use to change TV channels, play a DVD, or even change the temperature on the thermostat.  That derives from the phrase "remote control", which is what it was called shortly after I lost my job as the primary means to change TV channels, by twisting the dial on the set.  That term came about to describe the wonder of being able to control the television without getting our fat butts up off the sofa, and at the time, it was a miracle.
The word "remote" really means something that is a great distance from anything else that might provide a context.  When we tell people that Chuuk is west of Pohnpei, or west of the Marshall Islands, there is usually no reference point for them to understand where you are talking about.  If we say, "south of Guam about 600 miles" only a few can place that on the map.  But if I tell someone that if they fly to Hawaii, they are half-way to Chuuk, they begin to comprehend.  Hawaii provides a reference point, a context.
In Oklahoma, remote means you live at least a half-mile from the nearest neighbor, and to really be remote your neighbors should be barely known.  In Chuuk, you are at least 400 miles from the nearest neighbor, and most people have never heard of that island.  That is REMOTE.
If you live within a close community, a city, some well-populated place, and you like having the feeling of being surrounded by other people, you wouldn't want to live in a remote place.  Heck, you wouldn't want to live in a small town.  But if you crave independence, and revere the concept of rugged individualism, you might want to get away from the city and travel to a place like Chuuk - a remote location.
That is what you get when you come here; a sense of separation and solitude and distance from the human spoilage of the planet.  We have telecommunications, when it is working.  We have electricity, and you can depend on it most of the time.  We have a community, albeit small.  But mostly we have the ability to breathe air that has no industrial pollutants, air that is scented with flowers.
That is because we are so damned remote!!

Christmas isn't white in Chuuk

As I sit in my house in Chuuk, the "Great Lake of the Pacific", I think of how Christmas time is back home in Oklahoma.  We long for a little snow, just to make it like the Hollywood version of Christmas, and we hope we don't get an ice storm instead.  But in the western Pacific, at 7.5 degrees north of the Equator, there is never snow.  We may have a wet Christmas, but it isn't white.
People do put up lights, shop for gifts, sing Christmas carols (along with some reggae), and behave as though they are filled with the Christmas spirit.  Even those who speak little English wish us a Merry Christmas!
Our television service expired last night at midnight; Christmas Eve went dark, as far as TV broadcasting goes, and although I went to our only Telecom and paid the bill, the one employee who is authorized to receive payments for television was off-island.  We will have TV restored when he returns, on Monday.  So we are spending Christmas day in a silent house, as we will on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  We will miss so many football and basketball games.
Yet, it may be a blessing (you have to look hard to see that), since we are compelled to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas.  It's about hope, the hope that our pitiful lives may not be lived in vain.  Hope that our Creator has a plan to reward us, put us in a better place, save us from the broken state of our existence.  I suspect that the shepherds and Magi lived a lot like we do here, and they must have felt relieved that something good was happening.
Whatever your beliefs about Christ are, you have to admit that 2,000+ years later, his birth still brings hope to people.  We act different during this season, no matter how the weather behaves.  We remember that family and loved ones are more important than deadlines and profits and status.  All of us hope for a better life.
We also make resolutions for the new year and hope that this one will be the best ever.  In Chuuk, they beat on "drums" made of sheet metal panels, plastic barrels, and anything else that will resonate throughout the island.  I saw a group of children practicing their rhythm on Monday.  They continued to practice since then.  On New Year's Eve, they will be joined by thousands of islanders, and the sound will rock the island.  It will continue for three days, non-stop!  I don't think any of the drummers get any sleep.  It is a tradition that has been followed for a long time; it probably can be traced to a practice intended to drive away evil spirits.  I know it scares our dogs, and evil spirits probably want to avoid it, too.  If anyone believes that the Chuukese are lazy, let them come and observe the dedication of the noisemakers.  They just don't see the point in working hard for a vague purpose - at $1.50 an hour, there is little motivation to work yourself to death and sacrifice time away from your family, for some obscure goal of prosperity.  Prosperity is hard to come by in Chuuk.
So, to all my family and friends, may the blessings of the holiday season be upon you, and may you find love and joy in 2015.  Be thankful for what you have and tend to the relationships that sustain us all.

The medical tourist

I am back from a medical treatment in Manila, Philippines, and we finally have an internet connection again. Technology in the Pacific islands is in early stages of development; it is slow and not that dependable, yet we have jumped over the generations of tech and landed in a modern tech era, but without the substantial backup facilities that keep most of the world connected.
My treatment was for my eyes.  I have a condition called keratoconis, a weakening of the surface of the cornea that causes loss of vision and can eventually cause the cornea to burst, leaving its victims blind.  In the US, treatment involves waiting until the inevitable happens, then transplanting an artificial cornea and trying to get the thin surface to heal over.  At St. Luke's hospital in Manila, they do collagen cross-linking.  It is a procedure developed in Germany that uses a laser to excite molecules of riboflavin (vitamin B6) and incite the collagen fibers to link together and form a protective net at the eye's surface.
First, they scraped the surface of my eye.  That was the part I feared most, but it turned out to be the easy part.  Anaesthetic drops left me without sensation, and I only "saw" the wrinkled up surface tissue, not felt it.  Then, the B6 drops begin.  One each 5 minutes, followed by focusing on the laser.  Lying still and remembering to focus on the light is not as easy as it sounds.  An hour and a half later, the procedure was finished, and I emerged with hardly any vision in my left eye.  Over the course of the next week, the eye began growing new epithelial cells, and the "wound" healed over.  Ten days later, I was able to see 20/40 with my old glasses.  Most importantly, the surface of the cornea had doubled in thickness!  In a few months, the eye will have adjusted fully, and a new prescription will make my vision sharp as new.
It could be some time before this procedure is widely available in the US.  The FDA is not known for expediting new procedures.  However, for those million or so Americans who have keratoconis, hope is on the way.

Does Putin want war?

When you live in a remote place, you are often relieved to learn that you are outside the "circle of death" that marks the outer limits of missile ranges.  For example, North Korea has an effective missile range that would allow them to send a warhead to Guam, just 600 miles to our north.  However, Chuuk and its lagoon is just beyond range.  So, when the heads of North Korea's government threaten the civilized world, we are not concerned.  However, when trained Russian operators of a Buk rocket launcher shoot down a commercial airliner over Ukraine, in the name of the Russian separatists there, I get worried.  Even if we are somehow out of range for Russian missiles, the concern is not a missile attack; it is that the rest of the world is going to be dragged into a war that involves most nations.
Chuuk experienced WWII when the Japanese fleet established its headquarters here, and the US military bombed the ships in the Lagoon into a watery oblivion.  The Japanese suffered a massive loss.  The Chuukese suffered massive deaths from the bombs, and their island homes were destroyed.  Even seventy years later, the ruins remain unreconstructed.  Roads, once plentiful, are reduced to one main road and a few (barely usable) side roads.  I am convinced that New Orleans will rebuild before Chuuk.
Why would Vladimir Putin want to create a war - a world war that cannot end well?  I assume that he is a very smart fellow, and that he did not intend to shoot down an airliner filled with people from around the world.  However, since he could not personally man the weapon, he had to rely on subordinates to do the wet work for him.  And they botched the job.
Now, we watch CNN for news of who blames who; who denies any involvement; and if we will ever be able to  investigate the crash site and determine who is truly responsible.  The war of words will escalate until somebody starts the fight.  It is inevitably some subordinate who fails to see the big picture and who reacts with violence, rather than reason.  The rest of us are left to deal with violence on a scale that is presently unimaginable.  Nobody wins a war - some just suffer less than others.
Putin simply wanted to expand Russian territory into what was once considered part of the USSR.  He was effective in stealing Crimea away from the Ukraine, and that emboldened him.  The allies of Ukraine gave a weak response to Crimea, so why wouldn't Putin try to get more?
Obama is put into a precarious position; if he continues to give weak responses, the US appears unable to meet our treaty obligations, and Americans will no longer live in a world power.  If Obama responds with an attack, he puts the world at war.  Americans are tired of fighting in foreign places for causes that are not truly relevant to America's interests.  Obama will find little support for a war.
Has Putin made the US a second-rate power?  He may discover that he has underestimated his foe; even Americans who oppose a war will nonetheless fight in the military, and there should be no doubt that the US is the most destructive force in mankind's history.  Putin may have destroyed the Russian future with his aggressive behavior.  Only lawyers are concerned with having the evidence to prove that Russia provided the weapon and trained operators; most people make a judgment and tell it enough times to make their own brains believe it is a fact.  Such "facts" have brought on wars before.
In the meantime, the nations who have lost citizens in the shoot-down of MH 17 need to unify and take the separatists who block the crash investigation out into the woods and give them a humane end to their stupid lives.  Nobody can justify their behavior.  The rest of the world cannot allow thugs to block an investigation of what may be a terrorist act.  A combined military push will remove Ukraine's problem, allow the investigation to continue, and it will not serve as an act of aggression against Russia.  Russia has already told us that those thugs are not Russian.  Now they are committed to preserving that lie.
Just don't nuke them; it would damage the gas pipelines into Europe.

Visiting a small island

Over the past two weeks, I had the opportunity to visit a tiny reef island.  My wife and I chartered a boat and took seven of our Chuukese friends on a day trip.  It required an hour to steam from the docks at Weno to the barrier reef to the east, and when we arrived we realized that the water depth would not allow the boat to get up to the island.  So, we swam about 150 meters from the boat to the shore.
By the time I arrived, I was in doubt as to whether I could make the swim back.  Our two dogs swam with me, but they had life jackets - I had only a swimsuit and water shoes, neither of which adds buoyancy.  We also had to transport coolers filled with food and drink, so eveybody was worn out after our swim.
The island is magical.  The reef causes waves to form and break over the wide reef, causing a continuous roar -- it is a quiet roar, that makes a beautiful background to what is otherwise quiet.  Birds provide a melody of calls that punctuate the silence.  Coconuts grow abundantly, and there are many fish in the surrounding waters; otherwise the island is devoid of food.  A family lives there, taking care of the place for the owner, and they have a stress-free life (except for the occasional typhoon).
The owner once attempted to build a hotel and resort there, but a decade ago a typhoon destroyed the project just before completion.  Now, the hotel restaurant building sits atop concrete pillars, with vegetation sprouting out from silt deposits at the junction between floor and wall.  The long concrete walkway has been broken by the typhoon storm surge, and one must pick his way amid chunks of concrete to get to the restaurant site.
Sea cucumbers abound.  The shallow waters provide a perfect environment for them to feed and grow.  Small fish and crabs move about as the incoming tide brings a steady flow of new water, filled with the nutrients offered up by the reef.  Chuuk is one of the last places where sea cucumbers enjoy a healthy population.  We are debating legislation to conserve what is available, doing that before foreign fishermen deplete the rich resources of the Lagoon.
The reef forms a barrier around the Lagoon, probably the remnants of an ancient volcano.  Most of the people in Chuuk live within the Lagoon; those who live in the Mortlocks and in the Northwest, which lie outside the reef, have to travel a long way to get to the commercial center in Weno.
Some of the men went spearfishing, and I followed along, shooting fish with my camera.  Although it was difficult to navigate among the coral without making contact, it was a relaxing and enjoyable time.  We managed to spear 3 fish, all small, plus a puffer that we released.  Later, I realized that my back had become quite sunburned, and that the "relaxing" involved far more exercise than I thought.
If you have the opportunity to visit Chuuk, please don't stop with diving the shipwrecks.  Hire a boat to take you around to see the other islands in the Lagoon.  Then, you will experience true island life.

Chuuk and cholera

I was impressed by the number of people who paid their respects to Celso Berdon.  Funerals in Chuuk have developed into huge gatherings over a period of 2-3 days.  Celso was placed in a pavilion adorned with white silk fabric throughout.  His wife and children remained beside the casket for the whole time.
I received some comments about my last post, and I want to correct something that must have been spread among Celso's family in PI.  He did not stay in the hospital alone; his wife was by his side always, and his children were also with him for long periods.  He was also visited by many friends.  Please do not worry that he died alone; he was surrounded by the people here who love him.
An update to the attempt to get Celso a US visa:  it turns out that you only need a visa to land at Guam's airport if you are alive.  Celso's remains will fly to the Philippines, including a stop in Guam, without needing a visa.  I suppose that the State Department acknowledged that a personal interview cannot be required in such instances.
Funerals have grown out of control here; people are expected to provide food for huge crowds, and it nearly bankrupts some of them.  Due to the aging population, it seems that each family has one or more funerals each month, and the burden never ceases.  I am sure that this was not the practice under tradition, but it has become the cultural norm, and it does not make sense.  It is as though everyone is entitled to a funeral like the traditional chiefs were given.  Nobody seems to realize that there just isn't enough money to keep doing that.
I recently learned that the halted road project, which also involves a new sewer system, is becoming very dangerous.  There is a bridge across a stream that was partially demolished to prepare for the new paving, but which has yet to receive the paving.  The delay in funding the work (ordered by the OIA) has left the bridge to deteriorate.  Now there are 3 holes in the steel pan that supports the paved portion, and inspectors have noted that the pan is failing.  It is a matter of time before a school bus loaded with children plunges into the waters below.  Thank you OIA!
Moreover, the sewers are backing up.  They are run by temporary pumps that get clogged with dirt and sand, causing them to stop, and the sewage won't flow.  We are lucky that this is the dry season - a time when rains are not heavy on a daily basis -- but soon the rains will begin again in earnest, and we can count on sewers spewing raw sewage into the environment.  Chuuk has suffered two cholera epidemics in the last 20 years; it appears we will do so again.  Way to go OIA!!!  Maybe the plan is to kill off several thousand so the US aid can be cut back.
Yet, the people here continue to smile and be as happy as they can legitimately appear.  This isn't the first time they have had to deal with adversity.  It is time for this American to learn how to deal with it as well.

Celso Berdon lived here, until today

Celso Berdon was a Filipino national who had worked in Chuuk for several years as a mechanic.  He was employed by AWM, my landlord.  He was a good guy.  He married a local woman here and was part of the community.  He did not have a criminal record and did not engage in that sort of activity, so there was no reason for any customs agency to want to keep him from entering their country.
The Chuukese have an expression; "until today", that illuminates their thinking.  Nothing is certain, and our lives could end at any point.  Where Americans say "I always do that" or "that's how it has always been", the Chuukese are more cautious.  All we know is that it has been done like that, until today.  Who knows, maybe tomorrow everything will change.
Until today, Celso Berdon lived in Chuuk.  I won't be able to say that anymore, since Celso died today in the Chuuk State Hospital.  He developed appendicitis, which burst, and underwent surgery at our only hospital.  The toxins released by the burst appendix (or is it appendics) flooded his body, and the surgical team failed to clean it out.  We knew that Celso would not survive a long stay in the hospital - nobody does here.
I tried to get Celso on a plane back home to the Philippines, where medical care is more advanced, and to get him to a facility where he had a chance to live.  Our only airline is United, and most of the flights go through Guam, enroute to Manila, Japan, Thailand, and the U.S.  Guam is a U.S. territory, so any flyer is likely to need a US visa.
Celso didn't want to enter the US; he only wanted to change planes there in order to go home.  There was no intent to immigrate, just a medical emergency flight from Chuuk to Manila with a stop in Guam.  But the U.S. State Department has a policy:  anybody flying into Guam must have a US visa, unless there is some exemption.  Micronesians and Marshallese have exemptions under the Compact of Free Association, but Filipinos do not.  There is no exception for medical emergencies.  PLUS, (and this is the real kicker) you must appear in person at the US Embassy for an interview in order to get a visa.  Now, Celso was lying on his death bed, so his ability to go 400+ miles to Pohnpei for a face-to-face interview was compromised.  Our government policy remains intact, no matter how absurd or uncaring it may be.
Celso died this morning, still at the Chuuk State Hospital.  His widow and children will find a way to bury him - he does not own any land here, nor is he constitutionally able to acquire land here, but perhaps they can fly his corpse back home.  I don't think the US government requires visas for the dead.
At a time when President Obama tells the world that our focus is shifting from the Middle East to the Pacific, and that we are looking for alliances, friends in this region, to start long relationships with, our bureaucrats are undermining any attempt to gain the trust of Pacific Islanders.  It is obvious by the actions of our State Dept. that Americans don't want any foreigners to come within our borders.  It is obvious that the image of Americans as caring people is a hoax.  We won't even make an exception for someone who is dying from poor healthcare.  Our "ownership" of the tiny island of Guam is used to control the travel of people who have no interest in immigrating to the US, and our attitude is so arrogant that we are turning away the hearts and minds of people around the world.
Back when Americans had the benefit of an image of "the good guys" who cared about the well-being of all people, who were always willing to come help in times of disaster, natural or manmade, and who followed a code of ethics that made people admire us, we could screw up and be forgiven.  That image was lost years ago.  We are not entitled to slack.  We are becoming that nation that was once admirable, but which has fallen from grace, and other countries no longer trust our words.  Putin is viewed as an ambitious, aggressive dictator whose intentions re Ukraine are automatically suspect.  It is only a matter of time before the US is placed in the same category - our history of aggression can no longer be ignored.
I am disgusted at the lack of humanity within our national agencies.  Policies are formulated without regard to their impact on real people in difficult situations.  I understand that we face enemies who would take advantage of any chink in our armor, and we must remain vigilant about terrorists at our airports.  But when policies appear on their face to be a "tough shit brown people, we are the big dog and we make the rules - if you don't like them, then stay in your little armpit of the world" type of pronouncement, then we truly deserve to be a target.  I think we have to accept the risk of attack and make our immigration policies more in line with our history - if you are not Native American, you are descended from immigrants.
So, Celso Berdon lived in Chuuk, until today.  Those of us who live here will miss him ....until today.

A drink of water beats global warming

Sometimes I feel stressed when I find myself at the center of such pressing issues as marine conservation, rising sea levels, and providing incentives to grow the economy.  I start thinking that I am responsible for making everything better, like I am the one who must save the planet.  After all, the islands of Chuuk are losing ancient footpaths to high tides that never rose this high in the past.  Our marine life is gradually disappearing, as fishing fleets from the developed world descend on our waters and decimate the fish population in order to satisfy the appetites of people living far away.
Then Freeman stops by our house to change the water filter, something he does on a weekly basis.  The old one is always green and full of bacteria.  Suddenly, rising sea levels take a backseat to safe drinking water.  The global concerns give way to an immediate local need.
We get our water from gutters on the eaves of our roof that direct rain water into pipes that lead to a 2,000 gallon catchment tank.  It is our only source of water in the house.
The island has well water, produced from a lens structure that lies beneath the surface of most all islands.  Rain filters through the sand and rock and collects into a lens-shaped reservoir.  As more feeds into the lens, the increased pressure causes the reservoir to expand.  The water pressure pushes the salt water back, keeping the water in the lens fresh and safe for drinking.  As more people draw water from the lens, the pressure decreases, and salt water is able to seep into the supply.  The resulting water is brackish; it smells bad and has a rotten taste.  That is happening in Chuuk, on Moen Island, and that is why we have converted to rainwater only.
However, the rain which fell in a pure state picks up some pollution as it falls - less so here than in areas with a significant population.  On the roof, it drains down over dirt and debris, including feces from the lizards and geckos that are prevalent.  Old leaves fall into the gutters and add more "flavor" to the water as it travels to the catchment tank.  Then, the whole brew mixes in the tank, heated by the sun, and it grows a wonderful set of flora and fauna, some of which are harmful to human health.  That is why the filter turns green.  That is why we insist on changing it frequently.  When a dry spell occurs, probably next month, we will clean out the tank and remove all the gecko shit, decomposed leaves, dirt, and other pollutants.  Then, we will pray for rain to fill our tank and provide us with water to drink, bathe, and cook with.
When your water supply is so dependent on the weather, so constrained, so fragile, your perception of what is truly valuable begins to change.  I want to stop shark finning; I want to find ways to allow people to live in their homes, even though they are being destroyed by tides; I want to protect the reefs; but I must be able to have safe water or those other concerns are meaningless.
Perhaps you have watched something on television about how people live in other parts of the world and thought, "How can they be so oblivious to the need to take care of our global resources?"  Most people live where daily survival demands their attention, and concerns about the health of our planet are niceties that only wealthy people have time to consider.  Maybe you did not realize that you are one of the wealthy.

Once again, it is "April Fool's Day" in Micronesia, and once again, nobody Micronesian knows about the protocol for this day - except for my wife, who faithfully tricks me each year.  She planned her joke all weekend, and I fell for it.  One would think that 30 years of April Foolin' would put me on guard.  That wouldn't be any fun!
Yesterday was Cultural Day in the FSM, a national holiday.  Few people outside the government observe the holiday, except that in Chuuk we love track and field.  Cultural Day, 2014, was observed with a large track meet at Anderson Field.  Last year, it fell on a Sunday, so the holiday was observed on the following Monday.
That coincided with the first day at my new job as Legislative Counsel.  My first day was a holiday!  That was a great way to start a new job.  Now, one year later, I would love to have another day off.  I recall that the early part of my stay in Micronesia held several holidays, so maybe they are on the way.
The Chuukese don't put much effort into holidays, except for New Year's Eve and the following several days.  At that time, you can hear drum beats reverberate around the island, as young men gather up metal barrels, sheet metal panels, and anything else that will make a loud noise when struck, and they start beating in rhythm.  It begins on December 30 - practice time for novice drummers - and the drums become loud on December 31.
Most Americans put their effort into celebrating on New Year's Eve, then rest up for a day of eating in front of a television while watching football.  Chuukese put effort into the Eve thing, then continue banging the drums for all the next day and up until sunset on the 2nd of January.  The sound is impressive, but the stamina of the drummers is unprecedented.  It is difficult to imagine anyone being able to stay awake, let alone banging on a drum, for that long.
You may have heard stories that the Chuukese are lazy.  Don't believe it.  Anybody that can bang a drum for two days non-stop is not lazy.
On the other hand, the Chuukese may not see some American priorities as being important.  We try to be at work on time, work all day and even into the night if need be, and we don't miss work for personal reasons as a rule.  The Chuukese arrive at work when they get there, usually in the morning, and they work until they finish what was on their agenda -- unless there is some family matter that requires their attention.  It is a different focus.  There is no "right" way (i.e., the American Way) or wrong way about this; it is a cultural value.
Does business require that all workers arrive at 7:30 AM, take a 55 minute lunch beginning at 12:03, and stay (watching the clock) until 5:00?  Some believe so.  Your boss may be among those believers, so if you want to keep your job, do as you are told.  If you are in Chuuk, find out who your boss is, and where your boss went to school.  Managers appreciate it when their workers are at work on time.  But the question remains: does business require prompt attendance from its workers?
A more accurate question might be: what kind of business are you involved in?  Tourism-based businesses are never "off".  Some industries, like banking, are expected to be open for business at regular times.  Some businesses are flexible.  Most Chuukese businesses accept the culture and have no strict times for business.
However, some Chuukese people gravitate toward the U.S. model.  They prefer to have certain times for work, with no overtime hours.  That explains why so many Chuukese migrate to the U.S. and never return to the FSM.
For Americans who just can't seem to fit into the business system and its timelines, they might be more satisfied with a job in Micronesia.  Time for business is whenever you want it to be.  However, the compensation in the FSM is much lower than in the U.S.  After taxes, it all seems to have the same result: you have just enough to get by.

They eat dogs here!!

March 28 - I returned yesterday from a trip to Pohnpei, the State just east of Chuuk and the location of the national capitol, Palikir.  I spent four days in Pohnpei with my wife, and my purpose was to get an appeal brief filed in the FSM Supreme Court.  The court rules here mirror the U.S. Federal Rules in most ways, but there are some local variations that must be taken into account.  I took (and passed) the FSM Bar Exam last August, and while it was much like an American Bar Exam, there were some distinctly Micronesian issues.  With every question, a lawyer in Micronesia must remember that traditions are sacrosanct and trump the Constitution.
That is a smart concept.  Native American tribes allowed much of their culture to be stripped away, leaving new generations to flounder in unmarked territory, without the benefit of a heritage.  Micronesians have chosen to hold their traditions close and to make sure that modern concepts do not crush traditional values.  Having made that choice, the people in the FSM have embraced modern ways, and sometimes the new ideas break the old ways - like putting new wine in old wineskins.  Some new ways come with trappings that just won't allow existing practices to continue unscathed.
We don't examine new ideas much.  We tend to accept them as they are presented.  That may be due to marketing programs that make us want new things wrapped in a nice package.  We don't want to examine or choose how we use the new thing - we have been made to want it in the form it is sold to us.  Perhaps it is time to really think about all the accoutrements that are included in the package.  Why can't we discard anything that isn't an essential element of the new way?  In most cases, we can; we just don't take the time or make the effort.
In Pohnpei, the people there don't seem to be as happy as those in Chuuk, although they should be.  They have nice paved roads.  The roadsides are beautiful, with growing plants and flowers and closely cut grass.  The island is mountainous, so the higher elevation means it stays a little cooler than in Chuuk.  It also rains over 350 inches each year.  Everything grows.  Yet, as a culture, the Pohnpeians seem to be more serious.
I watched a group of men prepare Sakau.  Sakau is a drink made from the kava plant, and it produces a feeling of euphoria and relaxation.  They were making it as part of a celebration for some Australians who work for a satellite technology company; one of them assured me that Chuuk will have adequate internet service by October.  Even though he made the statement prior to drinking the sakau, I will not hold my breath.  I will rejoice if and when it happens.
Perhaps the sakau explains why Pohnpeians seem more serious than the Chuukese, who prefer cannabis. Your drug choice is important.  Or perhaps in Pohnpei it is the presence of spirits that keep them from laughing out loud.  Locals will not visit Nan Madol after sunset.
I went to Nan Madol on my last trip.  I drove there alone and walked down the long trail to see the ancient city.  It is constructed of five-sided basalt "logs", has streets that are canals, and covers about 160 acres.  It was a spiritual center 800-1000 years ago.  I could feel it.  Of course, it was a dismal, rainy day - perfect for enjoying a scary walk through a haunted forest.  I didn't go this time, as my wife was not excited about meeting ghosts from the seventh century.
One thing I noticed and appreciated about Pohnpei; they don't eat dogs.  Their dogs are healthy, fat, and fair sized.  They are also generally friendly.  In Chuuk, that is not the case.  Dogs here are smaller, typically suffering from ticks and fleas and often from mange.  Yet, they eat dogs here.  No wonder the local dogs are not very friendly; if somebody viewed me as dinner, I wouldn't be all that cordial either.
Yet, most of the people we meet here steadfastly maintain that they will not eat dog meat. (At least not any more)  They see our dogs and can tell we take good care of them, and they know we would not appreciate tips on how to cook them.  I see a lot of pups that never seem to reach adult size - they disappear.  I choose to believe that they died from worms.
When we flew over here, a woman who lived in Majuro (Marshall Islands) told us about the culture in the Pacific islands and how it was common to eat dogs.  She has tried to educate Marshallese about the benefit of making a dog your best friend, with some success.
It is one of the odd aspects of living here.  It reminds me that our culture is not universal.  Things we assume are universal truths are just not accepted in other parts of the world.  That is sometimes why American intentions go unfulfilled - we assume that everybody thinks like us, and we make arguments based on those assumptions.  Call it arrogance, or maybe ignorance, but it stems from so many Americans never learning about other cultures.  If we would make that effort, we might achieve much more in our relations with other nations.
I won't be eating dogs, though.

The Lawyer in Paradise

It has been a long time since I last posted; I have been in a foreign nation for exactly one year today, and I had to refrain from posting my impressions before I really adjusted to my surroundings.
I now live in Chuuk, one of the states in the Federated States of Micronesia, which is located in the western Pacific Ocean, about 7.5 degrees North latitude and on the west side of the International Date Line.  I am the Legal Counsel for the Chuuk State Legislature, still working in the law.
I thought about renaming the blog "Lawyer in Paradise", a tongue-in-cheek title that might bring in the many expatriate attorneys working in remote locations.  Photos of Chuuk might cause one to believe that this is indeed paradise, but photos do not show the level of poverty and suffering endured by the people here.  For Americans who choose to work here, things are not as they should be.  For example, our house has indoor plumbing, but no hot water.  Showers are cold, and when it is raining, the water in the catchment tank gets very cold.  It rains all the time.  In February, it rained every day, usually more than an inch of rain.
Our main road (there are only a few side roads, so all traffic has to use the ROAD to get anywhere) is under construction.  The U.S. government, under the Compact of Free Association, has promised economic aid to help Chuuk develop from a subsistence living to a monetary economy.  The road project began in 2008, and it is not completed yet.  The whole project covered less than ten miles of road, and what remains to be paved runs through the heart of Weno, the largest town in the state.  It is a typical project by a government, where officials from many government offices have special relationships with participants, lending itself to corruption and delays and cost overruns.
Now that I have corrected all my pre-conceptions about Chuuk and its culture, I want to write my observations in this blog.  Time spent in a foreign culture can be very enlightening; it can also be difficult and disheartening.  There was one recent law school graduate who had entered into a contract with the state Attorney General to work in that office; she lasted four days before flying back to the U.S. (and two of those days were a weekend).  This type of work is not for everyone.  I will try to provide enough information to allow those who have an interest in working in idyllic Pacific islands to process all the pros and cons.
Thank you for your patience - the Outlawyer, Brian Dickson