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.
Monday, March 31, 2014
Thursday, March 27, 2014
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.
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.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
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
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
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