Monday, December 24, 2007

Chuukese Christmas 2007

Monday December 24, 2007

8:16 AM

It seems that I have been waiting for Christmas to come for a long time now. Perhaps even since September have I been begging our community to let me play Christmas music while we hang out. Christmas music is some of the most under utilized music we have. There is so much of it, and so many great songs, yet we are only allowed to listen to it for a period of time lasting from Thanksgiving to New Year’s. It seems that anyone who is anyone in music needs to have a Christmas album before anyone can take ‘em seriously. And so I for one am and advocate of Christmas in June, and August and March, and any other time you want to feel in the Christmas spirit. Besides, being here in Micronesia, its not like the weather will tell you the time for Christmas has come. It’s pretty much the same all year round, and so why not celebrate Christmas all year round. I would even go as far to say, leave the Christmas tree up year round too. Last Christmas, Lincoln really wanted to buy a fake plastic tree with shining lights built in from the store. It was originally about $100 or so. I thought it might be straying off to far from the Living Simply component of being a Jesuit Volunteer. A few weeks closer to Christmas the price dropped down to $80, giving Lincoln a stronger case for buying it. I still didn’t think it would be right. I told him the only way it would be okay for us to spend so much money on a tree, was if we kept it up all year round. It doesn’t seem right to buy something so expensive and beautiful, and then put it away for 90% of the year. So we decided that we would not be getting the tree. Christmas came and went and there was no tree, it didn’t stop Christmas from coming, it happened just the same, and we were happy. But then, a few days after Christmas, Lincoln was in the store and Lo and behold the tree had been dropped down to $20! It was at this time that Lincoln and I together went to the store, and happily carried our Christmas tree home and kept it up until mid-January.


And so, since the weather isn’t much of an indicator that Christmas is coming, and it doesn’t really make sense to wait for Thanksgiving since there is no reason at all why Micronesians should be celebrating a holiday celebrating the United States’ continual exploitation of the Native Americans, I saw no reason to wait to put the Christmas tree up and to pull out the Christmas tunes. But the wonders of community living lead to compromise and so we pulled out the tree and decorated our apartment into a Micronesian Wonderland, with a chimney and all. Its made life a lot more festive, and all of our guests marvel at the many snow flakes we have dangling from our ceiling. Yet all of this is not the reason why I decided to write about this. You see, about a year ago, I posted a blog about Christmas coming, about my expectations for it, and what my first Micronesian Christmas would be like. How would living as Jesuit Volunteer change my perspectives on what celebrating Christmas mean? Well I most certainly got my answer.

Last year was by far the hardest Christmas that I have ever celebrated. You see, I wasn’t in Chuuk to celebrate with my community. We had worked our butts off to take our basketball team to a tournament in the state next door, Pohnpei. The tournament would run through Christmas and so Pohnpei would be where I would spend my first JV Christmas, taking care of 12 boys in a place I was very very unfamiliar with. I can still remember waking up Christmas morning. Just like any other morning. There was no Christmas tree, or Christmas lights, or anything that resembled the fact that it was Christmas at all. I remember listening to a Christmas CD I had made, singing along to Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas” and Darlene Love’s “Nobody oughta be all alone on Christmas”. I got up and woke all the boys up yelling, “Its Christmas morning! Its Christmas morning!” like little kids would, excited to open their presents. I felt very dad like, shaking the boys and rushing them to get ready for mass. Mass, which would by my only sign of the fact that it was Christmas. And it was then that I asked myself what Christmas has come to mean, and what does it really mean. When you strip away all the lights and the trees, and the presents and the stockings, will you still have Christmas? We get so lost in the consumerism of fighting for parking in the malls and shopping centers. Stressing ourselves working overtime, taking an extra job to try and pay for the parties and presents that we have to buy. And we find ourselves lost in trying to figure out what we should get this person or that person, or all the commercials that say it best, “the gift that tells the person you really love them”. How often do we lose sight of what Christmas is all about? In the end the only thing I wanted that Christmas was to simply hear the voices of my family. To know that they were all together celebrating in love, not in giving presents, but in being present to one another. I feel that its something that we have forgotten to do as our culture and society becomes more and more individualistic, one day we might forget what presence is and only know presents.


And so as we grew closer and closer to Christmas this year, I kept all these things, reflecting on them in my heart, the same way Mary did in Luke’s gospel, just taking it all in. But I was very blessed to have something else very special this Christmas season (which is really the advent season) to help me reflect on this all the better. I started helping out with the Pilipino choir during holy week this past March. And so as we were preparing the music for the Advent masses, I wanted to be very sure that we didn’t start celebrating Christmas too early, knowing that priests tend to get mad when you sing Silent Night during Advent. And it was an amazing thing how the music we chose began to set the tone for how my preparation for Christmas would unfold; songs like O Come, O Come Emmanuel, and Maranatha. Songs that I had known in college and growing up, being able to bring them and share them here with our Pilipino community as we together as Church begin to prepare for the coming of Christ. But by far the greatest gift that I have received this season, was coming together to celebrate Simbang Gabi, a Pilipino celebration of Novena masses every morning at 4:30 AM for the 9 days leading up to Christmas. At times it was a very drudging task to get myself up, but I figured out a system of setting four different alarm clocks, since none of them have a snooze button. In past experiences I would simply fall asleep in situations like this, but for some reason I felt myself energized and alive being there in mass. Perhaps it was the fact that I was in charge of leading the music, I am pretty sure that will keep you awake, but never the less I was grateful to be there. It was an amazing thing to wake up every morning and have time to pray, and to simply be present with God and others. All the daily readings, and the songs we sang were simply put. We are waiting. We need to wake up. Christ is coming. In whatever way you want to take it, in the end this is what coming to Christmas will mean for me this year. Removed from all the shopping, and all the commercialism, in the end all we have is each other, and the Christ within us that each of us brings and shares when we get together to celebrate. This is my hope and wish for Christmas. To find the presence of one another more fulfilling than any of the presents that money can buy us. I wish you all a Pwa Pwa Christmas, wherever you are celebrating it this year!

Sunday, October 28, 2007

Things I never said

July 17, 2007

10:41 PM

So much of this is far over due, as goes with much of my life in updates and story form. What follows is a collection of the memories that I was able to pull together from my mind and writings. Often random and in no order beside an attempt to keep with the chronology, I hope that these writings that follow continue to give you a bit of a window into my life. Kinamwen Kristus epwe nonnom remw.

Things I never said but should have…

In my past year here, I have lived a lot of incredible and challenging and growing experiences. Many have come and gone so quickly that I barely have enough time to process them myself. As a result experience after experience gets stacked upon me, all with a desire and want to share with all of you what happens and how life moves along here in the islands. Now I can make no promises that I will be able to do that for whatever reason, maybe for the sake of candidness or lack of ability to articulate, but I can try my best for the sake of us all. I hope you bear with me as I attempt to put words to my memories and experiences.

Thoughts on Community

Thoughts on Community

May 31, 2007

9:05 AM

I have been meaning to write this for a long time, as is the case with a lot of things. And I figured that this might only make sense for the next few hours or so, being on the brink of moving into a new stage of life as a JV, the summer. Today is our graduation. In a big way everything that is happening right now is hugely symbolic to the transitions that many people will be making right now. The seniors will be leaving on to bigger and better things, hopefully. Will go off to new places, or at least new experiences even if they are still here in Chuuk. As for us as JVI’s we are also making transitions. For us first years, we are moving into the summer, the intermediary period of year 2, the gateway to having some sense of veteran-ness. You can say it’s less of a transition for us, being that its similar to the feeling of being a freshman in high school, where you do not really know much about anything to do anything, and so you kind of go back to your sophomore year, just as idly and lost as freshman year. But as for our 2nd years, they have a transition of challenge ahead of them. The idea of being ruined for life I feel will take a step up with slap in the face as our 3 community mates make their way back across the pacific from whence they came, to new lives and unknown futures. It is a difficult thing for me to fathom, and I cannot nor have any desire to begin thinking about what they will be going through in the next few, weeks months, years, lifetimes! Although I must secretly admit that I often do give thought to the idea of moving to Mexico, and working on our family farm after I leave, but God only knows where I’d be without you. Anyhow, as our community makes motions to separate in a way that will only stretch us and help us grow, and not destroy us or pull us apart, I thought I would share my thoughts on community, who we are and how we are. Enjoy.

It is an amazing thing to look at our lives here in Chuuk and to see how we could get by without one another. After arriving in Chuuk little did we know about the ties of family that would be born. I guess this could be said about any community of JV’s brought together. But I feel now that I have grown in understanding of the role community plays in our lives as JV’s. Its in our communities that our lives unfold to one another, through the struggles we face and the joys we have. Coming from all different walks of life, cultural backgrounds, countries and states. We bring all the differences and similarities we have within ourselves and we place them in a pot called community. And the soup that turns out for us is filled with rich flavors and deliciousness beyond our wildest dreams. And of course it doesn’t always turn out so perfect, but for us it almost was. It was pretty close and it kept us coming back to the pot asking for seconds and thirds and we never got full. Within our communities we find a place to begin understanding the kinship that we are called to live within the communities we serve. In our community we begin to learn and actualize the idea that we belong to each other. For better or worse we are one another’s, and we live that and carry that kinship we learn to those we serve. And the pot grows bigger and the flavor get better. This is the justice we are called to live. This kinship, and it starts with community.

Now, some other thoughts I had about our community while we were all sitting around together one day was that the 7 of us here in Chuuk really fit well to the profile of the 7 characters that once set sail for a 3 hour tour and ended up on an unchartered desert isle, Gilligan’s Island. If I may proceed to share how we fit into the characters of our delightful friends on Gilligan’s Isle.

First it starts off with Lincoln and I, the Skipper and Gilligan. Respectively. Lincoln as the Skipper me as Gilligan. This is not so much for the sake of personality traits, but more for the sake of our friendship. Since Lincoln and I have shared our sub-community of 2 down at Saram, our brotherhood has grown, and I wouldn’t think it to far out for Lincoln to call me “little buddy”. Next comes the professor. Without a doubt Chris Dwyer. As our local geologist, Chris could always tell us about the different types of basalts to be found on this or that island. He knew the stars and he could climb coconut trees. I’m sure if we needed one he could build a radio out of bamboo and coconut leaves. Next is Mary Ann. She was always quiet and reserved carrying her beauty and intelligence in such a modest way that everyone loved her. Without a doubt Jackie fills this role perfectly. I’m sure that Mary Ann was a closet runner waking up early in the morning to run around the island, they just never showed that on TV. After comes the movie star, Ginger. A blend of such poise and beauty, only a soccer player could fill her shoes. Hailing from the streets of OC, she [Colleen] matches Ginger in beauty, but far surpasses her in intelligence and strength. Not even a sliced knee will stop this girl from having a rockin’ time. And lastly comes the Howells, Mr. And Mrs. Thurston Howell III. Of course none of our JV’s are married, and in that sense it doesn’t really fit, but in AJ’s case, I could see him becoming a millionaire one day, yet never losing the ideals of living simply. Carrying his hilarious wit along with him. As for Ellen, Ms. Howell was always the best at talking sense into Mr. Howell, in Ellen’s case, she is the greatest at keeping us grounded and on the right track, we’d be lost with out her. And so here we are the 7 of us on a tropical isle, in a lagoon. Not lost of course, but living the island life, taking each day, one coconut at a time.

Today is Saturday

May 23, 2007

5:59 AM

Today is Saturday. I woke up today just like any other normal Saturday around 11 AM, this time on the couch, not the floor. It was storming with torrential rain and so I was a little cold. It was really nice. Those moments of waking up cold and trying to cover yourself with the sheet that you call a blanket are rare. My alarm, the sound of beating rain drumming on the tin roofs outside our window.

Teaching

April 30, 2007

8:40 PM

It’s amazing those moments as a teacher when everything seems to just go right! Teaching can sometimes be an excessive sense of failure and brokenness, and not the students but you, or me in this case. I learned back during my first few months as a teacher that going into the classroom can very much be like a battle, the entire year a war, and of course this is a violent image, it sometimes felt and can still feel that way to me, when leaving the classroom feeling lost and crushed. I am sure that it’s not too much different from how the students may feel towards me. Them the opposing side, yet not always, at times they are allies and our working together moves us to places that we didn’t know it was possible. But there is always hope in a new day. Each day to be able to walk back in that classroom and try it again, for us the teachers, and for them the students, that’s a blessing. But today was one of those moments of triumph; today is a day that I never want to forget ever in all my days as a teacher, as a person, as a Christian, because today I saw the face of God.

We are learning about Jesus in my religion class. It’s something that my students can respond on call now. I ask them what is it that we are doing in this class, getting to know Jesus is there response. Its not an easy thing, and then again it is, I feel like my job is cut out for me since 95% of this island is Christian, all of my students are, and for the most part very practicing Christians at that. It’s a pretty amazing thing to be apart of and witness to. I guess that is how I live out that aspect of the four values of a JV. I get to witness a true sense of faith in the people of Chuuk, and “the Church is alive here in Chuuk!”, as one of the bishops said during out Dioceses days a few months ago. The church is alive!

In class right now we are going over the final days of Jesus that lead up to the Crucifixion and Resurrection, the birth of our faith. The textbooks all point to the importance and centrality of these events. And its been something that has had a profound effect on me for the first time. Ever since holy week and the Holy Triduum, I have been reflecting on the fact that without the resurrection of Jesus, we would not be Christians, life wouldn’t exist the way it does, we possibly wouldn’t be here, or at least be doing the things we are doing. Where would you be if Jesus never resurrected? It’s a crazy thought, and its one that I have been trying to have my students reflect on. We call ourselves Christians, but what does that mean? What is it that I believe? We have our creed, we have things that help us and guide us, but do I really buy into all of this? I hope people don’t think of me as heretical or filling these students minds with blasphemy, but I do know that this maybe the first time that these students began to hear any of these questions, and perhaps it may resolve in some growth, some movements towards Jesus, God, whatever higher being that these students may ultimately find. And that’s our goal, that’s what we are doing, I can’t grade them on that. But I can pray for them on that, and I do. It’s an amazing gift to be entrusted to help guide the minds and faith journeys of these 70 sophomores. I was relating this to Seth, a volunteer friend working and living at the Seventh Day Adventist School/Church. We have recently begun meeting to discuss thoughts on doctrine, catechism and faith of our religions. Chalk one for interfaith dialogue and ecumenism. He is the bible study teacher there. And shared similar thoughts on the importance our role plays for these kids. And in no way am I attempting to sound over righteous about my job, and forgive me if I do, I am no more important than English or a math teacher to these kids! But I am saying that I am blessed to be walking this walk.

And so, today in class, the moment of triumph, where it all started, with a little “try” and a whole lotta “umph!” (thank you Happy Feet). I had seen that we would be going over the last supper in class, and I saw an opportunity to bring our class to a new way of seeing the bible and their place in the whole scheme of things with God and such. Perhaps that’s more verbose than it should be, but I saw a great idea. And a motto I try to keep in life is, make it happen. Got an idea, make it happen, like the bamboo couches I want to make, but that’s another story! And so a little shakingly I proceeded to attempt to hopefully do something great for these kids. I would reenact the scene of the washing of the disciples’ feet with my classes. I didn’t know how it would turn out, but I hoped for the best. And in the end had my heart moved beyond dimensions I ever expected. I am continually moved and impressed by these students ability to show me the face of God continually in so many things that they do. We set the classroom up, we quieted everyone down, and I began to read from John the account of Jesus washing his disciples feet. And just as Jesus did, I got down on my hands and knees, and washed the feet of 12 students. Some laughed, some squirmed around feeling awkward being the center of attention, not a common thing for the Micronesian people, and some allowed God to be shown through them as their eyes welled up with God’s presence with in them. After I finished washing the feet.

This ones For my brother Mike

April 15, 2007
1:14 AM

When I was a sophomore in high school, my oldest brother, Mike, started teaching me how to play the guitar. There was an end of the year celebration that was gonna have a talent show, and he wanted us to play in it. And so around November my brother bought me an advanced Christmas present, my very first guitar. I don’t think he would know how huge of an effect this would have on the entirety of my life, but my life would never be the same from that moment on. I remember as a little kid going to Mike’s high school masses and seeing his friends playing guitars for the mass, and I secretly dreamt of being like them. Being able to play the guitar and “be cool”. For some reason I equated these two things together, I guess I still do. When my brother started learning the guitar as he got older I wanted to learn. It always started off in some empty attempts of a chord here, or this part of the guitar is called this. But it never really progressed. I remember the very first chord I ever learned. I feel like it was the first time that my brother took my desire to learn the guitar seriously. We were in his apartment and he was teaching me how to play the “G” chord. At first every string brought on a worse sound than the one before it. But eventually I got one good strum. My brother said, “Let’s stop there, it’s always good to end on a good note”. I still remember that moment as it was yesterday. With the talent show approaching it would finally be my turn to learn to play the guitar. Of course after the talent show it didn’t stop. My brother had taught me all he knew, every chord and song that he knew and what ever other little things he might know, but I hungered for more. I remember during this same time I was trying to learn how to skateboard, you know ollies and kick flips and frontward upside down casper slide grinds, the kind of stuff you see on the Tony Hawk video games. This was something my little brother was trying to teach me, he was far better than me. Providentially, one afternoon we were skateboarding in the front of our house and a car ran over my skateboard, ending my pro skating career (that is until I got to college and became skateboard racer across campus ‘cause I woke up late and am late for class). From then on there was no question about what I would do with my time, instead of hanging out on the streets destroying public property with my skateboard, I would be inside playing guitar for hours upon end. And I loved every minute of it. It wasn’t a chore or a required hour of practice by my parents or anyone. It was me for me, discovering a passion, a fire that would only continue to grow within my heart.

Eight years later that fire has become uncontrollable and consumes everything that it sees with the sound of music. Well not literally, but it sounds really poetic to write it. I look back on my life and I find that I am ridiculously blessed to have been able to find this passion, and yet although it was something that begun when I was still a young, shy, lost sophomore in high school, it is not something that I have fully begun to realize until recently, and still I know that there is so much more to it.

After the talent show, as I began to learn more and more, another opportunity arose for me to find music in a whole new way. My brother having recently become the new Youth Minister at our Parish, was starting a Youth Choir. I of course wanted to join. We were asked to make our debut at the first mass of the newly ordained Deacon of our church, Deacon Ray. My brother thought it a good idea I learn to play the bass for the choir, and so I bought a bass and attempted to learn, being that its not too far removed from playing the guitar. It was an exciting time. Playing a new instrument and playing with other people. It was excellent and I was a part of something. And so through out our practices, along with playing the bass, I made my attempts at singing. Oh man, was that rough! It gave everyone a good laugh, and I wasn’t too shy about messing up, but I could not sing for the life of me. I just didn’t have it. I guess I was tone deaf or something, but what I heard in the song, and what came out of my mouth were two completely different things. But, my brother still gave me a chance. That first mass, he let me try to sing a part of one song, and boy did I bomb it! We all laughed and had a good time, but it would be the last time that I would sing for the choir. I never gave up though, I still haven’t, and I am grateful for that. I am grateful that even though I continued to fail at finding the right pitch, my brother didn’t give up on me. He of course didn’t let me sing in public, but he never stopped encouraging me to keep on trying. I will never forget when he told me that God gave me this voice, if it sounds terrible, sing louder and maybe God might feel sorry for me or become annoyed with how ugly it is and give me a better one. I think God must have heard me, because something happened. Maybe I was just passing through my pubescent years, whatever it was, it passed and I was left with something that’s not as harsh sounding on the ears, something people could tolerate, and I am grateful for that. Thanks God!

Starting in the youth choir would also be another door opening to a passion that my brother, Mike, would introduce me too. I loved playing the guitar; I had found my passion for music. And during this time I was also finding a new passion for God, a desire to discover her in a whole new way. Music would be that path. I discovered as St. Augustine so eloquently put it, that to sing is to praise God twice! (He actually says “to sing well” but I like to not mention the “well” part for all of us who fail to find the right pitch to songs often) Mike would introduce me to using music to communicate with God, and to be able to share God with others! I think that is by far one of the greatest gifts that my brother mike has ever given me.

Puro Amor

April 14, 2007 8:46 AM

Que si trataria escribir todo mis pensamientos en espanol. No se si pudiera comunicar todo, y si pudiera allar las palabras para decir las cosas, pero a veces ni puedo ayar las palabras en ingles, so no importaria si mis pensamientos estaban en espanol o en ingles. Pero si se que seria bueno practicar mi espanol. Es algo que si extrano, que no pense que iba extranar. Extrano mucho a veces. No se si pa otros es el mismo, extranar a familia amigos, los posibilidades de amor. Pero creo que seria bueno pa mi escribir, es algo que si necesito practicar. Pues la unica problema seria si yo empiezo a olvidar hablar mi chuukese, pero la cosa raro, o mas la cosa que me hace reir es si empiezaria confundir mis idiomas y no poder hablar ninguna corectamente. Ahorita me gustaria ir y tener un tiempo viviendo en mexico. Pienso que en hora de empezar a escribir algunos nuevos planes para mi vida. No enteramente mas unos gols que gustaria completir antes que me muero. Creo que estando aquí me he dado muchas cosas de pensar en la vida. La cosa que si se, es que nunca quiero que alguien en mi familia va a una guerra. Nuestro mundo esta doliendo mucho. Los dolores de Cristo se pueden ver en la pobreza, en la guerra, en el hambre del mundo! Necesitamos hacer algo, la muerte de miles personas no es algo de debe de pasar. Cristo murio para que nosotros podriamos tener la vida eternamente con Dios. Necesitamos vivir mas como el, todo el mundo. No importa la religion, no importa el color de tu piel, todo nosotros somos hermanos y hermanas en los ojos de Dios. Esta noche mi oracion es para todo el mundo. En este momento que pasa, en todos partes del mundo, por los dormiendo, trabajando, descansando, por todos lugares del mundo le pido a Dios que nos puede ensenar puro amor! Puro amor! Puro amor!


Tu tienes un gran parte en mi Corazon

Por eso tu eres mi razon

Por seguir, perseguir, continuar

Amar

Amando, celbrando, nuestro amor

I don't know what this was

March 28, 2007

8:25 PM

I eat Backyardigans™ fruit snacks. It was a show on Nick Jr™ says the bag. I am not a little kid, but sometimes I like to live like one. I like sweet things. Fruit snacks are sweet.

A more recent update, October 28, 2007:

I found a box of Lego's downstairs in my office. They were for a teacher's nephew, but I asked if I could borrow them. She said yes, so now on Saturday's I wake up and play Lego's. Lincoln joins in sometimes. We made this really sweet fortress with a secret passageway. its pretty awesome. I often fall asleep playing Lego's, i will have them spread all over the floor, and then i fall asleep next to them, until my community mates walk in and find me. I don't think I ever grew up, nor do I want to.

This morning i made a rocket, out of the cut outs of my Cookie Crisp cereal box. if you want it let me know and i can mail it to you. Its pretty sweet. I like cookie crisp!

I don't sleep in my bed anymore

March 28, 2007

1:05 AM

I don’t sleep in my bed anymore. Its not because I don’t like it. Its rather very comfortable, its just that I have so much junk and crap on it, papers and such, that I cannot lie down on it. Well of course I could clean it up, but then what use would the floor be to me if I didn’t sleep on it? Or the couch, but where ever I fall asleep it lately as in for the past 5 nights been the case that immediately after dinner I fall asleep. Its kind of nice to just be able to fall asleep when you are tired. And then wake up when your not. Last night I got 11 hours of sleep. I like that a lot.

My heart Gets Twisted

February 21, 2007
5:30 AM

I have been removed from all of life, back home to live out here on this island in the middle of the pacific, and I gotta tell you its never been more hard than it is right now. I have never had to feel like I am really alone here, removed from things, but right now everything seems to stack up against me, I don’t know how to feel, what to feel, where to go, who to talk to, and it seems that there is nothing that anyone will be able to do for me but myself and its very very difficult. It is now more than ever that I really miss people, that I wish I had kept better communication with more people, and that I don’t know how to feel about anything really. You see, I have written a letter for the past few months now, time is flying by way to fast, I don’t hear back from the people that mean a lot to me, I wonder if I offend, if I am not worth the time it takes to say hello, and I am sure that I am just being really emo right now but its hard. I feel like sometimes I only get a really small window into all the things that’s happening in life back home, and that’s hard, its hard to live your life through looking in through little small windows, I would much rather be standing in the door way, ready for a great big welcome back hug. This whole thing with Andy is even worse, and crushing. I wanted to work on brokenness, well I have gotten it handed to me! it seems that God has shattered me, and left me with now choice but to turn to God. And that couldn’t be more harder. How can I be more real about what I am going through and realizing that I have so much to learn and that I am so far from where I thought or I wanted to be in terms of these 4 values. I feel crushed by every wall around me, and its like it all comes falling down around me, and my arms can’t hold it up alone. I don’t want to be alone on this, and I know I am not right, but sometimes we need to work through these things, just me and God, God and I, and where God will take us, you got me, but its so frightening with Andy and what the heck God may have planned for him, all I can do is pray, all I can do is pray, and so I gotta get a lot better at that. I need to be here, be present, be loving be amazing, be all that I can be, be the best teacher, but I don’t want to be removed from home, I want to be able to be as much a part of home, even if I am thirty thousand miles away. I want to be there with Kath, I want to be there with my family, I want to be there with jaz, and Thomas, and so many more of the people that mean so much to me. What ever happened to John, how bout deawna, what about those people that helped you get to where you are, the ones that helped form you and helped you grow, and never left your side, even when they felt like you left there’s, I can be a big jerk sometimes. I am not a good guy sometimes. I want to be better at everything, be that guy my senior year of high school, completely humbled to be receiving the love that I was. The one that was voted best personality because people genuinely believed that I did have the best personality, and I was most genuine about my love and my care, and about my passion and faith, and didn’t care about what people thought, and if I would be voted best personality. A lot of me wishes now that I never received that award. I would have never known people cared enough. And maybe I could have continued going on the same way. Being passionate and loving and caring, without worrying about what everyone else thought, about whether or not I would be recognized for it. To love genuinely, to live my faith genuinely, even when its most hard. I wonder if I were to meet that guy, the marcos who is a senior in high school, I wonder if he would like me, I wonder if he would be able to help me grow, help me learn the way that he helped others. It seems that the person that needs to change is me, I need to grow, I need to be broken, because I need to lose what I have, I need to be broken before I fix this, fix who I am, how I am, to be better. But that’s not going to come easy, and its not going to come fast. Its going to be hard, and I am scared of that too. I am scared of what its going to take for me to be able to grow into the man that I want to be, because I know that I will have to go through a lot more trials before I get to that place! I have had so many experiences that I was supposed to learn from but what now, what do I have to show for all that, who am I now! Sixth months out, sixth months here on this island, how has this island changed me helped me grow? i want to be the best for everyone! For Lincoln for my family, for God for kath, for chuuk, for my students, and for all the people that will be affected by the fact that my life exists. I want to glorify God’s name in all I do. I want to have peace in my heart, in my world, in my family, and bring peace to others, I want to be an ambassador of peace, and I don’t what it will take for me to be able to do that, but I want to do my best for peace! I want to do all I can for peace! I pray for peace in every single way right now, peace for Andy, for Mike, for my mom and dad, for me and for our community, for our hearts, and for our world! Faith, hope and love. Have faith, have hope, have love. I can work on faith, but I think right now the one I need to have the most of is hope, if that’s what the doctor prescribes then that’s what I am going to have to do! Hope, hope for the best pray for the best! Trust in God which is the hardest thing that I am called to do! But all I can do is pray, so I will! Please pray for me…

Missing Friends

February 14, 2007

7:20 AM

There are far too many people that are in this world that I wish I could be in better communication with and it sucks, being out of touch! I see tons of pictures of people and I say man I miss that person, and I think a whole lot about a ton of people, and how much these people mean to me, yet I never take the initiative to say it and actually go out and work on it. It really sucks, because I…well its stupid to compare, but checking out other peoples facebook walls and such, and just realizing how minimal my communication to people has been really sucks. oh man I wish I was a better communicator, keeper in toucher with people my friends my closest friends more people. but not just simple hello’s more than that, but even simple hello’s to people to remind them that you haven’t forgotten about them. I guess new challenges. Its been six months?

Dioceses Day

February 2, 2007

9:05 AM

I am amazed! It is incredible to see the incredible limitlessness of ones faith. Tonight my faith soars. Not as much as other times, like when I have been on Piis (which is not a drug), but I should better say, that tonight I am proud to be a catholic. I am proud to be part of something so universal and so worldwide that brings hundreds upon hundreds of people to gather together for one similar purpose and goal. To celebrate the fact that God is amazing and to unite in that love that gave us life! Well okay relax, Ultimately what I’m trying to say is that tonight was incredible. Over a thousand people gathered tonight from all around Chuuk. Mostly the lagoon islands, and some of the outer ones, but they came by the hoards. Arriving by boat since noon today they game by the hundreds from the Parishes of their home islands, to gather as One Catholic Church. It truly is amazing to see that put into place and perspective. No matter how far or how close we make up the church. Not a building, not a cross, not an altar, not a priest, but a people, a people gathered to celebrate in God’s love, through one another. “Where two or three are gathered…” I think this is what God had in mind. What I am talking about is what people here in Chuuk know as “Diocese Days”. It commemorates the anniversary of the Caroline Islands becoming a Diocese of the Catholic Church. Now in its 27th year, it is incredible to see what incredible things have happened here in the past 27 years. The faith of the people here is truly alive. Out of the 4 states of the FSM, Chuuk by far has the most devote number of Catholics. I don’t know really how to explain it.

The most incredible thing about it is walking into a church of such incredible colors all over the place. The way it works, is that each Parish gets assigned a color, and wears that color, for example the Cathedral’s color is yellow, Holy Family’s color is White, Macheweichumw Mission’s color is Green and so on and so forth. And so if you go to this parish, you wear your color, and you sit with that parish, and what’s left is a church filled with such a vibrant array of colors every where you look.

Frustration

January 23, 2007

4:45 PM (weno, chuuk)

I am right now finding myself incapable of being able to fathom words like poverty and justice. I don’t know how two years will ever give me a complete understanding when I come from a world where I enjoy the comforts of the upper echelon of the pyramid the one that has so few in it. I don’t feel comfortable with myself or with what I know and feel so naïve and lost about what to think and how to feel. On the outside I am thrilled and happy to be here. I couldn’t think of a better place to be in the world, and cannot imagine wanting to leave any time soon. Yet on the inside I am faced and riled up with questions of meaning and self meaning. I am searching for my own meaning. I have always struggled with expression. I am not a good writer, I have accepted that. But what’s worse is feeling stuck and constipated in trying to articulate the feelings that I feel inside. Knowing that they are nowhere near what they should be and not even knowing what they “should be” means. I am filled with a ridiculous amount of nothing and wonder if I have anything good to offer to this world in the form of my writing, feeling that when I right I end up putting not only my foot in my mouth but I end up putting both feet, my legs and practically everything up to my neck with confusion and dismay. I have no idea if what I am saying has weight or value, but I have come to realize that in my being here, I will never fully be able to understand what it means to live in the poverty that these people suffer. I am not here forever! Nor can I be! At a moments notice I could be out of here. And I try to think of how am I going to grow and learn like this? It is just so frustrating and leaving me so confused and tied up into a knot! I hate it because I feel that there is a lot that people want me to say, a lot that people want to here about my experience, and what its like and what social justice means here, and how am I making this world a better place, and I am stuck? How am I supposed to spit words out that make enough sense when things here don’t make any sense? How do I make sense of something that does not make sense to me? And I wonder will it ever make sense? Will it ever make sense how some people in this world suffer through so much, while others live in luxury and vast richness? I suck at this writing thing! I am way to overcritical of myself! I don’t even know if I have a point, but I think if I did have one it would be to try and say that the only thing that has made sense since coming out here is that true justice is kinship, and that we cannot forget that we belong to each other, every single one of us. For the good and the bad, we are all connected and all one. In all things. Regardless of religion, gender, nation or creed, no matter what you are doing we are one! Until we can live that and bring that oneness to each other we are stuck in ourselves and will continue to suffer together. No matter where you are or what you are doing, when someone suffers from poverty and injustice, we all do. That is kinship. And until we can live that out, and begin to move beyond ourselves we will all suffer! This was lame! I am sorry.

Misconceptions of Myself and Justice

January 24, 2007

1:30 AM

You know often times im the one that feels that I must be broken of all my misconceptions of justice and the way the world works, because my way of thinking and living is the cause and problem of injustice in our society! I hope I don’t perpetuate injustice and I hope that if I do I can learn what I am doing so that I can stop it and break myself of it!

Losing Light

January 11, 2007

3:21 AM

I simply love how when the power goes out, the only thing left for my neighbors to do is to sing. And when they sing its sounds like angels have descended down and fill all things around with God’s light in our hearts! It’s a great gift!

Things I wanted to write more about

December 31, 2006: Thoughts after arriving back home from a ten day journey across the pacific, to coach our basketball team in a national high school tournament.


God only knows where I should begin…


Living a dream…

Being on a ship across the pacific!


Nobody ought’a be all alone on Christmas…

Christmas in Pohnpei

A different kind of Christmas

Finding that meaning that I was looking for

No santa clause, no trees, no presents… a lot of gifts


Service as a forgetting of oneself…

Reference to the fifth week, regency


You lose some and you lose some…

Ending off the basketball season


Miracle of Prayer…

Trust of St. Ignatius

My personal devotion to La Virgen de Guadalupe…

Her help with the tournament.


Difficulty of being alone in Pohnpei


Wishing that I could smile


A new level of intensity that I never knew that I could have

A need for controlled patience

An intense stare

An intense and frightening voice

And a whole lot of balls to back up whatever you say!

Letting my boys have it after the game against MHS

Letting them have it after the fiasco at Breakfast.

Missing home like never before


My hardest time in Micronesia so far


I love Chuuk


I am so happy to be back…but… I miss my bed.

Things left unfinished...

It has been about 8 months or so since I have last posted anything. Call me rediculous and ask me, what's the point of keeping this thing if i am not going to write in it. I don't know the answer. I don't know how to do a lot of things in life. And as i try to find a balance between what it means to live life in a completely new way, this blog thing has taken a seat in the line of things to get done. I figure its time to get things done. In the past 8 months it is not that I have failed to write or reflect on any of my experiences out here, rather I have just failed to finish them. I find this is something I often do in my writing. I will start to write about an experience, and end up biting off more than i can chew, and never get around to finishing. I am so critical of wanting it to be well written and communicate where I am and what it is that I am going through that I often abandon things. Who knows, I have tried moving beyond trying to be a good writer, whether it is in me or not, who cares. Me fore me, right? So, here it is, a compilation of the many things i have written and never finished, or just failed to post. I hope it gives you hours of reading pleasure, or simply a look into what I have been up to the last few months. Be well and Be awesome!

Wednesday, March 28, 2007

Taking the Blinders Off

March 28, 2007

5 PMish


I think it was about that time, that someone pulled or rather ripped the blinders off of my eyes. I think I have been able to sit too long staring comfortably out at this new world that I have now come to call home, as I wrote in the absence of recognition of the poverty that tucks itself into the nooks and crannies of Chuuk, making it a an even more difficult task to see. So you can imagine how difficult something almost invisible is to see, when you have blinders on to the world. It was time for them to come off, but it wouldn’t be anything that I could do myself. I feel like I am in Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, yet the realizations after coming out of the cave aren’t a world of beauty and awesomeness, but rather, a hidden world of challenges and struggle that plague the people of this land.


I have discovered my heart here in Chuuk, on an island that sits on the edge of the lagoon kissing the Pacific Ocean, as the immense waves crash upon the reef that sits yards away from the shore. As you walk around the island at night, often all that you hear from anywhere you stand is the thunderous sounds of the oceans waves. A sound that takes me home to the beaches of El Porto and Point Dume. It is here that I have found my reason. I had the image that if I were Peter Pan, it would be a combination of magic fairy dust and the Island of Piis that would make me fly. When I am there, I feel like I can fly.


This weekend marks the third trip that I have made out there, each time to help lead a weekend retreat. From the first moment that I stepped on Piis, there has been an incredible feeling in my heart. There will always be a piece of me in Piis, and I will always have Piis in my heart (a little funny since Piis is pronounced just like Peace). Every time that I have gone there, my heart has been moved and ignited by the Holy Spirit. A feeling indescribable with words, but one so strong and so powerful, they do not happen often. But each time fueling the fire within my heart, giving me strength to keep going, to move forward, beyond challenges and difficulties, Piis is my reason.


This last visit was different though. It didn’t carry the same fuzzy warm feelings with it. It was a new challenge, a challenge to take a bigger step forward in offering up myself, and sharing God within. Usually on these retreats we would be accompanied by Sr. Erencia, who would plan and lead the whole weekend, yet due to her being called to Guam we would be doing this one without her. Here is where Kathy comes in to the picture. Kathy is the whole reason why I was ever able to go to Piis in the first place. It is her island, and her home, she invited us to come and be with them, and has been remarkably incredible and making Piis feel like home. She is an incredibly strong and intelligent young woman, and has an amazing presence of God within her, that she shines no matter what she is doing. And now with the absence of Sister, she would have to step forward, take the reigns and lead us.


Now, this does not come without its challenges. You see, the Chuukese culture is a male dominated one, which means that women follow the men’s lead. Of course with the influx of western culture, things here in the lagoon change slowly, but there is still a huge level of respect that each sex carries for the opposite, that even I as a feminist have grown to admire. It isn’t always a form of oppression to the women, but rather a symbolic way of showing respect to one another. I know this sounds strange and difficult, and in no way have I lost my care for women’s equality, but I think you must experience life here before you judge it. And so this task of standing up in front of 70 or so youth, a multitude of people mixed in with relatives of both sexes who are older than her. This could cause a huge cultural breakdown of respect, and in instances that I have both witnessed and heard of, often times people might reject to partake in something like this. But in this case, they did not, instead her uncles, and brothers, partook in this opportunity to grow in many ways, and stood by Kathy in support and respect.


Needless to say, Kathy’s natural ability to lead and guide, and allow the Spirit to work through her made for an incredible retreat, yet within myself there was an absence of one of those moments, that blindsides you on a random Tuesday, no…that’s from a song. But, there wasn’t this big movement in my heart like past times. We spoke in our community about this, that life is filled with these large moments of extraordinary worth, the days that we remember and stay with us for the rest of our lives. But then in between all of those are the ordinary days and often bad days where nothing spectacular happens, these days will probably fill up the majority of our lives. I said that I try to live my life from these big moments to big moments, basking in its glory and letting it carry me on a high for as long as it will let me. But my community mate made a great point saying, that life is filled with these regular moments that often times don’t leave you on a high or carry you anywhere, but there is still joy and grace to be found in them, in the unspectacular. This reminds me of something Brendan Busse shared with me. He spoke about the beauty and spectacularity of the sunrise and sunset, yet how much of an ordinary thing it is. We don’t have to wait for the kairos moments in our lives to experience God’s grace. Sometimes God is lying waiting for us in the most ordinary and mundane of things. In something so common as the rising and setting of the sun, in the placement of the stars and moon, find God in all things.


And so beyond the extraordinary ordinary of this trip lay a challenge waiting to reveal itself to me, the removal of the blinders that I had managed to carry with me for the past 8 months of my living here.


After the retreat had ended, we had an opportunity to walk around the whole island with the president of the youth, Alfred, who I have come to see as a brother. The island, approximately the size of two football fields, took us about an hour or so to walk around. But for that hour Alfred opened his heart and shared a lot of the struggles that the youth and the island of Piis are facing. The removal of the blinders.


I used to think that for the most part people here in Chuuk are doing okay. Living here on Weno, where we have somewhat paved roads, some times power, some resemblance of supermarkets with mainly lots of cans or long ago expired products, cars and a Mobil run monopoly on gasoline, you can get this idea that life here isn’t so bad. Sure it has its problems, but if you need something you just run to the store and grab it. Or at least that’s how it goes for us. We have hardly ever had to put our feet in the shoes of what it might be like for someone who doesn’t live on Weno. You see, Weno is the only island with everything I just described. As the capital of the state, you can call Weno, the metropolis of Chuuk. Its not much when you compare it to huge metropolis’ like Los Angeles, New York, or San Francisco. But here in Chuuk, its is the equivalent, which isn’t saying much, since there is no where anything close that would give you that impression of it being in the same ball park as those big cities. But the other outer islands are further steps away from that ball park. On the other islands, there are no roads, there are no cars, there are no markets, there is no power. Everything on the other islands runs on self sustenance. If that means, fishing or farming okay, some people do that. Others have resorted to getting jobs, or attempting to sell things on Weno to make money, so that one can pay for the gasoline for their fiberglass boats, buy the bags of rice that has become a central part of the diet here, and buy the canned goods of SPAM and Mackerel or Tuna, which have also become a central part of the diet here. For majority of the people here in the lagoon, it is the latter. Of course there is still a large consumption of the local food that has been eaten here since the first days of the Chuukese people here, but as western culture begins to influence and slowly dominate, the younger children are turning away from the local food, and are acquiring tastes for things that cannot be grown but must be bought. This may come with severe problems, as I discovered this weekend.


What is a family to do if they have no way of making any money?


The plight of the poor continues to slap me in the face, as I continue to get my blinders ripped off my eyes, leaving that painful feeling of having duct tape ripped off your mouth, especially with a moustache.


Sitting with one of my students who admitted to not wanting to go home for the sake of escaping his parents yelling at him, and the negative environment, of marijuana and alcohol infested relatives, I feel nothing but stupid for the naivety of thinking that life here, even in Weno is okay. This whole talk about Weno being the capital of the state and being better off…guess what…I was wrong again.


So turning back to Piis, and the struggle that they face. With the lack of ability to make money, comes the lack of ability to buy anything. Talking with Alfred this weekend I for the first time had my eyes opened to the struggles that people here are facing. I was pushed to look beyond myself and realize that not everyone here is eating and living comfortably the way that I am, even if I am taking a step away from my “normal” American comforts to attempt at what we call Living Simply. There is no way that I will ever be able to experience fully what it is to be poor, and its only now, 8 months into being here in Chuuk that I am beginning to see this. I was blind and now I see? I don’t think this is as fabulous as singing the words to Amazing Grace, but to have this eye opening experience is as important.


People here are struggling. People here are going hungry. And what does that mean, so they have food, not much of it, but what good is aged, old, breadfruit going to do for you. There is no source of meat or protein, or calcium or sugar, or much else for that matter. For the people out on Piis, there is no opportunity to farm and grow things that may be sold in the market for money. The only resource available to them is the big ocean blue filled with tons of fish, but catching them presents a whole new task in itself. You see, the people do not use the canoes of ancient days as they did before, the navigating skills have been lost to the gas powered fiber glass boats. And so now they are subject to paying the exorbitant price for gas, due to the monopoly on gas run by Mobil® here in the islands. Being that Piis sits on the edge of the reef it is one of the farthest islands away from the capital island of Weno, so it costs the most amount of money to get to, add on the cost of going out into the ocean for a few hours to be able to battle the large ocean waves in order to catch fish, then to be able to take them into the market, hopefully to be able to get a decent pay for those fish. In the end, you are stuck still needing to pay for more gas to go back to the island, and hopefully buy a few supplies for your family, now where do you draw the line between food and other amenities, like kerosene for light at night, food products, soap, toilet paper, the simple things that we may take for granted. When it comes down to it, there just isn’t enough money for everything, and in the end, all that is left is the little bit of local food that they have here. No meat, no rice, no mackerel, these staple foods that have now become central to their diet are now a struggle to come by. And as Alfred put it to me on Sunday, these people are facing a famine. With lack of ability to make money, comes a lack of ability to buy food, and soon, he says, there will be no more food on the island. What are the people to do then?


You ask: Why doesn’t the government step in to help? I say: Excellent question! A Local Says: The government isn’t doing anything! The elected mayor gets money to help his island, yet after collecting the money, he then distributes only to his family saying that this money is for him and his family. The problem is that the Mayor is sadly, not related to everyone on the island, and so in the end there is more than ¾ of the island that are left struggling and wondering “what good does this new system established by the Americans, do me if all that ends up happening is no one taking care of me?”. This sort of corruption is not only unique to Piis, but has been a huge problem through out every level of the Chuuk State government for years. We recently heard a story of the Chuuk State Director of Finance accidentally losing 1 million dollars in a 2 million dollar transaction to the Chuuk state. All funds were frozen to the state until the money was paid back, and so rather than looking for the money, they just took the money from already existing funds. Whatever happened to that money is anyone’s guess, but my community mates were treated to many beers by that guy at a bar not too long after this event…a little fishy?


Yet it does not end there. Like the problem of governmental corruption is not unique to Piis, nor is the hunger and lack of jobs. Even here on Weno, the capital of DVD players, Cars, Cell Phones, nice stereos and anything else that can make you look like you have money, mixed up among all this, are a population of people who are going by on rice and water, sometimes mixed with salt, maybe sometimes a family member might bring by a can of meat, if they’re lucky, but luck doesn’t seem to be on the peoples side here. The original thought I had was lots of stores equals lots of jobs, right? Well apparently not so, because even here in the capital there are people that will go without vitally important sources of nutrition. So to say that people aren’t starving is one thing, but would you call surviving off of meals of only rice and water living large?


My world around me is being shaken up again, once again, and my heart is left restless and torn. Torn and broken for sitting in this place so long, blinded by the thought that people here weren’t too bad off. Sitting here in my comfortable apartment, eating my comfortable and delicious meals, absent minded to the fact that people just outside my door are suffering and struggling. I don’t have any answers and in no way do I feel like I have a right to make a social commentary on what Chuuk should do to solve their problems. I have no idea what to do, nor how to deal with all this in my heart, but it doesn’t sit well, I don’t think any injustice ever should, and this is only the beginning I know, forgive me for not touching upon the struggle of education for these kids, and the problems of alcohol and drugs that they turn to. My picture of a world of beautiful sunsets, and coconut palm tree filled beaches has just become a lot more real, and a lot more serious, but its about time that the blinders were taken off.

Notes from the Coach's desk, Part 2

Some thoughts on my season as a Volleyball coach...from beginning to end.

January 31, 2007


8:52 PM


I am a horrible coach, I am a horrible person! I feel ten inches tall, and I am sure that is how I made my players feel today and that’s not what I wanted. I go to practice with the right intentions, but I get there and do it all wrong, and now I am left being torn up inside, and feeling like today has got to be my worst day ever. As a teacher as a coach, I have succeeded in making two students cry, broken their spirits and for what, two of my best students went away from school a lot less of themselves than when they came in, and that was not my plan, my hope my goal, and as far as my standards are concerned I have failed! I want to be so much better, I want to be everything to these kids and I would give my life for them, but lately I have not been showing that to them especially while coaching. I had such high hopes and high aspirations and high expectancies of what coaching volleyball was going to be like, but now I see that I am doing it all wrong. I AM DOING IT ALL WRONG!!! I have bitten off more than I can chew, and am choking on the pieces, and drowning myself, and am taking the girls team down with me. I thought that coaching both guys and girls would be easy, but no way is that easy, its like trying to teach kindergarteners and college students at the same time, each need a different level of teaching and working with, and I am not saying that any one of these groups are like kindergarteners, its just tough! And both are equally difficult. You see I had expectations of being this amazing volleyball coach that was going to be bringing all this awesome experience and knowledge and be able to teach these kids how to play “real” volleyball. Boy could I have been more wrong. No where have I ever felt more like being an “unwitting imperialist” than I do with coaching this team I have gone about it all wrong, because who said that I have all the answers, who said I had any, and who said that they were playing volleyball the wrong way anyway! It sucks and I hate every piece of myself that has brought on this misery not only to myself but to my players, because I know that it has made my players miserable. For the past four days of practice all I have done is yell and scream, and made these players suffer. I have been giving them the workout of their life and forgot about the most important thing about playing a game. Having fun! I have to be honest, I think the fun to suffering ratio has been completely lopsided since we started practice, and now I am at a point where my best player wants to quit. I don’t know what I have done, but what ever I am doing I am doing it wrong, and I don’t know how to do it right, and I am suffering from pushing the envelope to this point. I am the coach that told myself I never wanted to be. I remember playing little league baseball, and I sucked at baseball, and I remember striking out in the Tournament of Champions, and after walking back into the dugout, one of the assistant coaches reamed me, he just let me have it, about how much I sucked and how my heart wasn’t in the game, and a whole bunch of other stuff that just makes you feel like you are 10 inches tall. I was 10 years old. How quickly I forgot what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that, and that’s all I have been dishing out to these girls, and I hate myself for it. I really do. For becoming the coach I never wanted to be. I have been so caught up with my own personal agenda that I have forgotten the importance of having fun, and that it doesn’t matter what I want, but what the girls are enjoying, because if the girls aren’t enjoying it why should they be there, and I think that is the point that Jane is at. I have pushed her to a point where she no longer enjoys her most favorite sport, the one sport that she would do anything for, and so now she wants none of it, she didn’t sign up to be yelled at and to be in tons of pain, but she is, she is in a lot of pain, and she still gives her all, and its still gets her no where. The level of playing ability is so low, and so I thought well “I am a gift to these girls because I will help them be great”. But that’s not the way it works, its not me who is going to teach them anything but they who are teaching me. They are teaching me, what it means to live with compassion and steadfast love, a love that challenges, but not a love that crushes. And if I want to have any team left to coach. Still everything that I can think about is doing my best for these kids, and I want these kids to have an amazing experience, which continues to point towards the direction of forgetting myself and putting the kids first. Forgetting my agenda of creating world class athletes (not that I am capable of that anyways) but of simply allowing these students an opportunity to get together and have some fun. That is the whole point of sports. And if I can help bring that about maybe I will have taken a step closer towards being a better coach, but until then I have a lot to work on, a lot to digest and think about, and I am finding that throwing up all that you bit off to chew is a lot more difficult and painful on the up chuck, but still I think that it’s the only way that I will be able to start afresh and be able to truly bring some more meaning to this season, with a lot more fun. God be with me, I cannot do this alone!

March 26, 2007

6:40 PM

Win lose pwa pwa chok! That’s really all it comes down too. Its funny how the biggest lessons in humility and justice come from some of the most insignificant things that you do in life. Or at least for me here in Chuuk. Coaching would have been the last thing that I would have expected to do, but in the end, I think I was the one that got the most out of these seasons. I have learned so much about myself, my desires, and how those might be affected by the people you lead. It’s a rare and amazing opportunity, your first year of coaching, you will only get one, but I know for sure that the failures, mistakes, and losses do not stop here. There are still many errors to be made, and many losses to suffer, but in the end, as long as we came out had a good time, but more that the students had a good time, they had an opportunity for that short bit of time to feel a part of something, a responsibility to someone, there’s growth there's joy, there's love! Win lose pwa pwa chok!

Note: "Win lose pwa pwa chok" is Chuukese for, whether you win or lose still be happy.

An evening at Saram...

February 27, 2007

9:15 PM


There are many nights that seem to disappear from me and from my memory. It has become a regular occurrence for me to simply just fall asleep after a certain hour. I don’t know if this means that I am getting old or if I am simply incredibly tired. Well heck why not both. You see, the evening times are very strange for Lincoln and I. Our days are wild and jam packed or at least mine is, and I have no doubt that Lincoln’s is as well in his own way. So by the time our day begins to slow down around 5 or 6ish depending on the afternoon’s activities, we gather ourselves in our apartment for a good bit of wasting time, playing guitar, throwing darts at our wall, or simply just sitting and taking a breather. We often talk about how much work we have to do, or haven’t done, or didn’t do, and how much there is still to be done. Maybe it’s all the same, but it goes to show that by that time the nature of our conversations are very lost, but not all. There are some very meaningful talks that we have at this time of the day. Often about how the school might run more efficiently or what we can do to be better teachers. It’s very much like the post game pep talk from the coach, and Lincoln is my coach, who always prepares me for the next day. After that, we often go our separate ways for a while, Lincoln usually, and more close to always will head to his office, and be the good teacher and get some grading done, yet his intention to do work is often times, more than not, overpowered by his tiredness, and I end up finding him many nights asleep over his students essays in a comatose type nap. I tend to sit around our apartment continuing a lot of the nothing that was being done earlier. I make a lot of empty attempts at a lot of things, or I’ll make a run to the market for whatever we might need for dinner that night. By this point it is anyone’s guess what we will have for dinner or when. That is usually one of the conversations that we have before we break our separate ways, hence the need to go to the market. We also must decide, our hunger to work ratio, which one is bigger or more important that evening, and usually work will win. Our satiety seems to be replaced with a need to get something done. Of course before the 24 hour power miracle of Chuuk occurred, our dinner and work time was often times decided by when we had power or not. If power form 4-8, we might try to get as much done till 8, if 8-Midnight, then we would try to eat, and get all the wasting time done before the power came on, so we might get work done after the power comes back on. But this whole 24 hour power miracle has truly revolutionized much of what we do. It is amazing what you can do, when you don’t have to depend on when you will have power to see, or do much. But back to the evening, it will often happen that the time will pass us by, either forgetting to look at our clocks, or simply trying to correct one more paper or play one more song on the guitar. But by the time we sit down for dinner, we find that it’s 8 or 9 or sometimes 10. It would be really hard to give you a mean average, since it is so varied, but it seems that so much of what we do here is! No day is ever the same, no evening ever the same, sometimes we even have time to play a game! But too often for myself, especially when those meals come late, I find myself completely worn out from being able to do anything. I lie myself down on the floor, stretching my growing belly, and then 9 out of 10 times will fall asleep. It’s funny how customary it’s become because, now after dinner finishes, and I tell Lincoln I am just going to lie down for a few minutes, Lincoln simply just says, Good Night, and knows that he won’t talk to me until the morning. This usually isn’t much of a problem, yet it has caused me to forget to brush my teeth countless nights, oops! But, I think the ADA says that once a day is enough…right? And so it happens that 9 out of 10 nights, or more like 4 out of 7 nights I end up falling asleep on the floor of our living room on a nice straw mat. The reason is not borne of a desire to live simply, but simply from being too tired. But I have found it to be very comfortable and enjoyable to sleep on the floor, and often a night will choose the floor over my bed. This is also in part due to the fact that my bed is covered with clothes, or books or a collection of everything and anything that I may have acquired during my day. I guess something’s never change, huh? But it makes me feel at home I guess. Messy but not nasty, my freshman year college roommate was nasty. He left rotting fruit, and 5 week old pizza boxes that were spilling left over ranch, and buffalo sauce all over the floor. I just leave my clothes which are usually 83% clean or 90% sweaty on the floor, but it tends to be the first and not the latter. Either way, its home, it’s never a routine, or I guess it’s as routine as spontaneity can get, and the lack of monotony makes me a happy man. I love living here. I love living here with Lincoln, and I couldn’t think of wanting anything more!

Monday, February 26, 2007

Brokenness

February 12, 2007

10:12 PM

I am sure that I have written about brokenness at some time or another in my life, of course I spent a lot of time dealing with brokenness recently before I left, and being broken in Europe and on the Camino and in St. Peter’s Basilica. But now there is a new sense of brokenness that is being borne of me that I have simply forgotten, and one that is shining much light to my time here in Micronesia. You see the crazy thing about life is that, me as the “eternal optimist”, have spent so much of my time living it up to the fullest out here, always doing everything I can to enjoy every single moment and love every single minute. It was odd, but the other day Lincoln and I shared in the thoughts of this feeling too summer campish, and that just doesn’t seem right. But I wonder what I am doing to actively move against those thoughts. I have spent so much of my time here in joy and optimism for everything and everyone. Our school will get better at all the things it does wrong, our principal will get better, my students will get better, the government will get better (meaning less corrupt). But when, how, by who? It never really pans out, and in my mind all continues to be happy go lucky, right? No, things aren’t getting better, and I realize that this eternal optimism of mind has lead me to a corner, a dark corner where I don’t see as well as I should, sometimes leaving me blind. You see, I have always had this problem with experiencing brokenness, pain, suffering, sadness. Who likes to feel those things anyways? And so instead I successfully shielded myself, with optimism and lots of joy to always look at the brighter side of things, the glass half full instead of half empty. But I realized today, with the help of the bestest friend anyone could ask for, that that doesn’t always work that way. And you know what, she’s right. And it has shattered a bit of the world view that I have built up here, and I think my world view needed some shattering. Everyone’s always does, it’s too easy to pull the blinders over our eyes and think that our world is fine and dandy and getting better. I came to Chuuk with that mind set that things will get better, with heavy optimism for the island, of course the governments corrupt, of course the teachers don’t show up to work, of course the principal doesn’t seem to care about the students, but it will change. And so thus far, all that I have experienced all that I have written home and all that I have seen has been all the fluffy fuzzy stuff that makes people feel all warm inside, and makes this time here look summer campish, and makes it seem like living on an exotic tropical island is the most incredible thing that can ever happen to someone. But what about the brokenness, the brokenness that I continually sought to fight with my eternal optimism? never allowing myself to experience this brokenness only left me looking at the world around me with blinders on. I wrote a reflection a while back on hunger and poverty in Micronesia, and how people hear seem that they will always be provided for because its in the culture to always take care of your kin, a beautiful and perfect thought and example of kinship, the optimist thought. Remove the blinders, a lot more complex and difficult world of struggle for food, services, and help is shown, between the haves and have nots, and that too often gets overlooked here in Chuuk. My optimism can be blinding, and so I ask myself, “am I too become a cynic?” what is to become of my optimistic ways? I have no clue, and I like looking at the world, in a glass half full kind of way. “Be the change you want to see”, right? But I think that I need to work on shaking my naiveté about the world around me a lot more before I throw the blinders back on. Henri Nouwen wrote about the experience of brokenness as a sharing in the mystery of the Eucharist. Like the Eucharist we are all Blessed, Broken and Shared. God always fills our lives with many blessings, whether blessings of challenges and strife or joy and pleasure, blessings just the same. But as we are blessed, we are also called to live brokenness. That in those moments we share in Christ’s dying on the cross, and that it is only through our moments of brokenness, those moments of truly humbling ourselves to the fate of taking up our own cross and bearing it as difficult and challenging it may be, that leads us to being shared. Shared with others and the world, there we spread the Eucharist, the life of Christ to others. At our first JVI mass at Georgetown before our Summer Orientation started, a quote was shared that has stayed with me since. Mother Theresa had a prayer that went:

Lord, break my heart open so wide, that the whole world may fall in.

It is a difficult thing to pray for, or even feel the need to desire, but it is truly only through brokenness that we will be shared and that others may come into us, and that we may be able to give ourselves to others. I have a lot to learn and a lot to work on, but right now I am praying that I may simply allow myself to sit in my brokenness not trying to rush through to the good of things, realizing that through sitting in my brokenness, that God is inviting me to meet Jesus on the cross, and perhaps find God in a whole new way, rather than settling for the fuzzy moments that come from my optimism. I pray that I can get there, time will tell. Pray for me.

Wednesday, January 03, 2007

Me for me...for better or worse. (What is Christmas?)

December 15, 2006

4:30 PM

I’ve been here in Chuuk now for about four months. Now, in a time of advent with Christmas coming so near, I have been trying to give thought to some idea of what does Christmas mean here. What does it mean for the Chuukese people? Or better yet what does Christmas mean to me? Having this time of being away from family and friends, I know it’s really easy and cliché to say that its not about the presents. But can we really embody all that that means. Can we get beyond the commercialism of Christmas? I wonder if I can. As a Jesuit Volunteer I am supposed to be taking the questions of justice and simple living to heart. Yet I so often find myself struggling with whether or not I am actually doing that, whether I am actually able to put some action behind these values that I am trying to instill into my life. I know that it’s easy for someone to get the idea that of course I am living these out, yet its not so simple. It never really is. It’s a matter of allowing oneself, and world to be broken apart. There is not denying that I come from a society where buying drives everything. Where its not a matter of what you are, but what you have. How do I break down and shatter these mindsets that have been so beaten into my mind for the past 22 years, in 22 months. I guess that’s my challenge of being here. Can I reverse the evils that my culture has affected upon me? Wiping away the ugly parts, and recycling all the good ones to hopefully find a better man at the end of this all. But then again, who is this all for? Who am I doing this for? Me? The community I serve? That is never a simple question to look at? But the Ignatian motto of doing all and everything for the greater glory of God does shed some light. So what does Christmas mean? What am I doing with myself, during this advent season? Its difficult to come to the time of advent every year after year and find the same homilies in church. Try to fight consumerism. It is too easy to lose sight of Jesus amongst all the Santa Clauses, wrapping paper, and Christmas trees. But who am I to talk, I walk through the stores and get that tingly feeling of Christmas that we sing about in the Carols. Oh but still this feels so empty. I still feel that I am getting no where with myself and truly embodying a more socially conscious mind set. And I hate feeling so superficial and almost like a Social Justice Poser. There are so many people that I look up to and admire, and people I could be more like. And it all comes down to a matter of being less superficial and a whole lot more genuine. I don’t know if I am able to truly know exactly what this all means or if I will get to that point of being satisfied with myself. But I have something to strive for, and I know that I am blessed to have people to look up to and guide me along this path. So what is Christmas about…I have seemed successful in turning this into a self evaluation of myself and for that I am sorry, but if anything maybe I can leave that up to you to answer as I continue to discern what that means for me. I know it means love, I know it means hope. I know it means being with the ones you love, and I think of that I am most scared of missing this Christmas. For many reasons do I fear missing that. You see I have already been ripped out of my comfort zone and thrown into a new place away from all familiarity, friends and family. Over the past four months I have developed a new comfort zone, made new friends, and expanded my family. This is good, and would leave me feeling okay with celebrating Christmas away from home, but I sadly won’t be here in my new comfort zone for Christmas either. You see, there is a basketball tournament in Pohnpei (the capital state of Micronesia) and as the coach I have been fighting hard to be able to get my kids there. It has not been an easy feat, and I often still find myself worrying about whether or not we will be able to go. We are days away from departing and I still have no idea how we will pay the registration fee, and what we will eat. I would love to be like St. Ignatius in these moments, and trust that God will take care of us, but my trust is tested when the lives of 10 high school boys are in my responsibility. But to offer this boys an opportunity to play some more ball, and to see another state, I offer up my Christmas in a place that I have now come to call home. I admit that this makes me sad, especially because of the 2 JV’s from Pohnpei who will be coming to visit. But I know that this too will play into figuring out what Christmas will mean to me. And so I go on, wishing I had an advent wreath to help count down the days. Wishing I spent more time in prayer to figure out what this all means. And wishing that I might better understand how I can prepare myself for Christ, bring out the Kingdom of God that lives with in me, while loving others and living in a world that is telling me to love is to buy. I hope that all of you back home are enjoying your Christmas season. I pray that your days are merry and bright and that all your Christmases be filled with nothing but the love and grace that God chooses us to experience. It seems to me that all I want this Christmas is a serious deeper love for the poor, and a mind that is more aware of the injustices, and how to live a life that works towards bringing about the kingdom of God rather than waiting for it. I am tired of waiting for it. Lets bring it home today.

Saturday, December 30, 2006

Seeking higher articulation...

Okay well I have wanted to say this for a long time. You see I have come to terms with the fact that I am not an amazing writer. I read a lot of my friends writing and stand in awe of the emotions that one can stir through their writing. I often dream of being able to one day do that, yet find that I may not work that way. You see I have all these ideas in my head, and they sound good when I run them through my head. Often times when I am sitting on the toilet or doing something mindless I think about how I will express these moments and memories in words. And it all comes out good in my head, yet when it comes time to write it, I find that I fail miserably at being able to truly articulate the moment and the emotion that I would like to. I long to write in a way that moves people, but I find that when I try to do that, I am lost and often times come out being a lot more the opposite. So, in coming to terms with my mediocre ability to write, I wanted to just let you all know that there are people here that are far better with words and expression than I am. So, I want to urge you strongly to check out what they have to say, because often times they speak of the same experiences that I am but in a far more articulate matter. You can check out there blogs by clicking on any of them in the Links section to the right of the page. As for me, well, don’t give up on me. I will still continue to write in the only way I know how, from the heart. I will no longer attempt to be the kind of writer I am not in hopes that my genuinity and sincerity will speak more the emotions that I wish to express. Just me writing as me as the thoughts come to me from my head to the paper or computer whichever it makes it to first. Kinisou!

Saturday, December 09, 2006

You Win Some, You Lose Some

During my time here in Chuuk, I don’t think that I had experienced a moment of speechlessness as I did yesterday afternoon. I was not prepared to do what I had to do. I think this might have been my feeling about the whole thing from the get go. I don’t think that I was prepared for what I was about to do. About 12 weeks ago me and thirteen other guys set off on a journey, to become one. I was unprepared, unskilled, and so very lost. Yet, the guys had faith in me. There has not been one moment that has not been difficult. And still it is very difficult to capture into words. I had no idea what I was getting myself into, or how I was going to be able to help, or do much at all. You see, I was probably the least likely candidate for the job. I knew very little about basketball, I hardly played any sports, and when I did I always rode the bench. How would I be able to lead a team? How could I help teach these players anything, when every single one of them could “school” me in the game? I must say now, that it would have been impossible if I would have done this alone. Lincoln was there by my side the entire time. Whether or not he was actually at practice, due to the fact that he had a lot of other things to run himself, he was a rock that I stood on. He gave me the encouragement that I needed, and he believed in me so much. I could not have made it through this season with out him. That is the beauty of our community. The many dinners that we spent talking about strategy and going over techniques, and things that we could do to help our players. Our team may not have seen much of him, but he truly embodied the idea of being a silent leader, behind the scenes. And so we set off on the journey, I dove into as many books as I could steal from Xavier High School. I pretty much had to learn the game from scratch. I owe so much of what ever I was able to accomplish this season to Basketball for Dummies, let me say that those books are awesome. I placed my faith in God, and let it all ride. Aside from Basketball for Dummies, I owe so much to my dad, who has always been my coach in life. Not for sports or for clubs or competition, but simply coaching me on how to be a better person. My dad taught me everything that I knew about coaching, and if I had any success this season as a coach I owe so much to him. My dad is an amazing man, and I am so blessed to have him in my life. And so the season began, and the boys were amazing. You see I lucked out being blessed with such amazing and talented players. Having time to work together and build a strong team was such a huge blessing. We set out building a family developing a relationship of trust and understanding. Becoming strength for one another when one another was down. I became so enthralled by the game and the joy and excitement that these boys brought me. It gave me such encouragement and strength to get through those difficult and challenging days of teaching, knowing that we had practice right after school. Time for fun. We had a lot of fun this season. Of course it was challenging when half the team didn’t show to practice, or everyone showed up half an hour late, but that’s life, and these guys are in high school. Oh there is so much joy and my heart is filled so much as I look back on the season. There are so many good memories that we shared and created that I will treasure with me for the rest of my life. And no win or loss can ever take that away.

Yesterday, we lost in the first round of play offs to Berea High School. It was a difficult loss, knowing that for some it would be there very last game at SCA. We finished off the season ranked 6th with 3 wins and 4 losses. We were a good team, a strong team, yet we made a few mistakes, and lost a few more games than we had hoped, but it wasn’t a bad season. We went into the play offs very hopeful. We had been working hard, and were ready to take on the world. Yet the world had different plans for us, which is okay. The game had been postponed and postponed again, until finally the day was set. We got ourselves ready, and all hyped up. A great friend from home, had her students make good luck cards for our team, and so at our meeting before the game, I gave them the cards, and we were set. We walked out the court heads hung high ready to play. New secrets and new tricks to beat the team that had beat us in the regular season. Our crowd was huge, there’s was small. We had the home court advantage; everything was looking our way, everything except for the fact that the referees had yet to show up. We waited and waited, and they never showed up. 45 minutes later, we had to postpone the game. We set the game for the next day, I prayed that I could find the referees in time. At 3:30 PM I got final confirmation that all was ago and we began the hyping up and getting ready. We walked on to the court, again, ready to take on the world. It started off good, they were unprepared to handle the new defense that we had been working on for the past three weeks. I was simply amazed that I was able to teach them anything let alone the fact that it was actually working to stop the other team. I was thrilled, calm on the outside, but thrilled on the inside. Yet we still had four quarters to get through. We lead the first quarter 8 to 4. By the 2nd quarter our boys started getting lazy and they began to catch up. We were tied at 16 in the half. It was anyone’s game. I told them like I always had, that “the team that wants it more is going to take home the win, you have to want it more than them”. And so we went out strong and hopeful. Still God had another plan. By the end of the third quarter we were down by 7. Still okay, we still had a chance. Within the first three minutes of the 4th quarter we had closed the gap to being down by 1 point. It was now time to step it up get the ball and take the lead. Yet the stepping up never happened. Our center was fouled out, sending us into bonus, and sending them to the free throw line. Our 1 point margin, grew to 3 points. Another foul made it grow to five. With nine seconds in the game, we did all the fighting that we could yet knew that it was time. Saram had played its last. As the last seconds ran out my mind went blank. I had not prepared for this moment. I don’t know if I had prepared for any moment, but I surely did not prepare for this one. I watched our captain to make sure he did not run out, he was the first one I thought of to hold and comfort. He would need to help me with the team. It was amazing and beautiful to seeing him rise up as the leader that day. Through out the season Jeremiah, our captain, struggled with loss, often times running away from the team after out of fear and frustration. Yesterday he stood strong and fast. Yesterday we lost, yet we lost with honor, we lost with dignity, and we lost with our pride held high. It may have been our last game, but for us it was a glorious moment of culmination, of God bringing together all that we had worked for, all that we had worked on for these past many weeks. And as I approached our boys all seated at the bench huddled together, with tears quelling in their eyes, I was left speechless. I was at such a loss for words as what to say to our team, who has given their heart for this game and for this team, for our family. But I let the team speak, I let the captain say his piece. He spoke with such heart, and such love for his team, for his brothers, and for the blessing that it has been to play with them. And although he spoke in Chuukese, I was reminded again, in the beautiful fact that things like love and heartfelt emotion are not limited to any language but can be felt so plainly, and that the face of God shines that love as he did in the faces of my players yesterday. I told my boys, that in no way did we lose this season. We walk away from this season so much richer, so much greater than when we started before. We were not walking away empty handed. We made history this season, beating Xavier High School for the first time in SCA history. We built friendships and bonds, and last memories that we will hold with us for as long as we allow ourselves to. We learned so much from the many mistakes that we made, and the many things that we shared with one another. We left with a family built strong on a foundation of love and trust, and no scoreboard or referee can ever take that win away. Because in the end its not about scores and points, and good calls and bad calls, as cliché as it may be, its not about who wins and who loses. Its about who allows themselves to be changed by the experiences that they have had and allow themselves to become better people for that. And in allowing ourselves to be changed comes the true grace of winning, bringing God the greater glory.

As we drove around to drop all the boys off at their homes, someone from the road asked if we won or lost. I think our captain answered it perfectly, “It happened just the way God wanted it”.