Let me be honest.

PST (Pre-Service Training) is getting boring and I’m getting homesick. It’s not a great combo.

Monday through Friday, from 8:30am to 5:00pm, we PCTs (Peace Corps Trainees) sit through training at PATS (Pohnpei Agriculture and Trade School). We are presented with topics ranging from medical issues (like acute diarrhea) to safety and security to TESL training to culture shock to accomplishing Peace Corps’ 3 goals to language training to anything else the Peace Corps thinks we need to know. The topics are presented in 2 to 3-hour blocks, and our language training is usually a 4-hour block in the afternoon following lunch. It’s a lot to take in. And if the material is dull or the presenter isn’t engaging, the days drag on. It’s actually been happening a lot lately.

To top it off, Romy’s 18^th birthday was this past Wednesday, and not being with her to celebrate broke my heart. I was able to talk to her on Friday and wish her a happy birthday, but I still felt an immense amount of guilt for not being there. (If you’re reading this and see her within the next few days, please give her a humongous hug for me!) I’ve cried numerous times in front of my friend and fellow PCT, Lisa, about missing Romy and the rest of my family and friends and I’m not in the least bit ashamed.

I’m lucky to have such a special relationship with everyone back home and am equally fortunate to have the means to express my feelings as a PCT/PCT through this blog. I believe it’s important to voice my emotions as I’m feeling them not only for my benefit, but also for those interested in and/or curious what they might experience if they’re thinking about joining the Peace Corps. The more awareness, the better.

So yes, let me be honest. This week sucked. And I haven’t even started the hardest part of my service yet.

But that’s okay. Through reflection I’ve found what’s really bothering me about PST and how I can manage my bouts of homesickness.

One of the reoccurring messages throughout the PST sessions has been the importance of classroom management. We are constantly being told that classroom management will either make or break our teaching experiences. We can be presenting interesting material to our students, but if we don’t have any sort of control over our classroom, it will be extremely hard to be successful.

And I can see what they’re telling us is true, just from our PST sessions. Some PST presenters are confident, they establish ground rules, they know how to provide useful information, and they ultimately accomplish their intent for the session. Those are the types of “teachers” I admire and hope to be like (I put “teachers” in quotation marks because I believe that even those who are not technically teachers, still have so much to teach us). Unfortunately, other presenters are less successful because they lack the confidence needed to command their audience, they never set up ground rules, and they are unable to present their information in an engaging manner. I find it interesting that the Peace Corps is modeling bad classroom management for that matter. Yes, some of the PST presenters may have little to no training in classroom management or presentation skills, but I cannot help to find that problematic. Shouldn’t the Peace Corps be exemplifying good teaching practices to us during this integral training period?

Rather than dedicating my energy towards that issue, I need to redirect it towards learning from the experiences. There is, after all, much to learn, even from those who do not demonstrate classroom management.

Likewise, rather than being distressed by missing out on things occurring back home, I need to allow myself a few minutes to be homesick, then refocus on why I’m here in Micronesia.

Training days are long, presenters and their material can be boring, and I often think about how much easier it would be to be back home. But it honestly could be worse. I’m fortunate to have many small victories so far.

I eat pancakes with peanut butter and coffee every morning. I have supportive teammates and staff. I know how to take a bucket shower. I’m slowly conquering my fear of spiders. I taught my host family how to play Uno. I eat entirely with my hands. I lay on the living room floor for hours with my host family. I taught my Pahpa Pancake how to open a bottle of wine. I dance almost every day. I’m teaching my host sisters and nieces English and Spanish, little by little. I’ve bonded with my host sister over boy problems. I had ice cream for the first time in a month.

But by far the most beautiful moment I’ve experienced was when I had 3 young host family members all reading out loud in English together in my room.

And I’ll be very honest about how awesome fostering literacy felt. That’s why I’m here.

Stay well,

Rachel

Fashion Faux Pas

As most of you know, I appreciate fashion and try to look as put together as possible whenever I go out in public. At home in California, looking nice was easy when I had mirrors and washers and dryers and many clothing options. In Pohnpei, it’s another story. For one, I only brought 9 shirts, 3 skirts, and 2 dresses with me, so my options are limited. Secondly, the humidity makes me sweat constantly and turns my hair into a frizz ball. And thirdly, I’ve had to hand wash all my clothing, so I often re-wear clothing to extend the time between my washes (don’t judge, it’s a lot of work to hand wash!) To prevent myself from getting bored of my clothing options and to make it less obvious that I’ve been wearing the same shirts and skirts for weeks now, I try to mix and match my outfits as often as possible. It’s definitely not how I’d prefer to be dressing and to be looking, but I’d say I’ve been doing a pretty good job so far.

The fashion in Micronesia is relatively simple, and quite comfy in my opinion. Women typically wear embroidered skirts that cover their knees and shirts that cover their shoulders. Sometimes they match, sometimes they don’t. On Sundays at church, you’ll usually see women wearing mumus, which are knee-length dresses that have very little shape to them. Not so cute, but very comfy and airy. Women’s hair is often in a bun, secured with a butterfly clip or a colorful rubber band. The men are less conservative and wear shorts and can opt out of wearing shirts if they’re not in a professional or formal setting. Everyone wears flip-flops and goes barefoot in the classroom and around the house.

The other morning as I was getting ready for PST, I put on a skirt that my host family gave me the first night I moved in with them. The skirt is pink with darker pink flowers and green leaves on it, and has a light blue stripe running around the bottom of the skirt. Back home in California I would never wear pink, but my Pancake family’s gesture was so kind, I sucked it up. Plus, the skirt is really unique, and I kinda dig it. Anyway, I paired a blue shirt with it to match the blue on the skirt. That’s about as match-y as I could get (like I said, I don’t usually wear pink and therefore didn’t bring any pink shirts to pair with it). I thought I looked pretty fashionable by Pohnpeian standards (that’s not to say their standards are lower—just different from what I’m use to!), but apparently not.

I walked out of my room and my Nohno Pancake quickly called me into another room where she and my host sister were going through piles of clothing. “Mom wants you to wear this,” my host sister Emmy said as she passed me a different purple skirt. “Wait, am I not suppose to wear this skirt more than once?” I asked. I had worn the pink skirt to church the Sunday before and was under the impression I could reuse skirts since they barely show any dirt. “Just wear this,” Emmy told me. “Okay, thank you…I have the blue dress you lent me too! Let me go get it,” I responded. When I brought the blue dress back to them, my Nohno Pancake said “No, that’s for you! Keep it.” I tried arguing that it was theirs and I couldn’t take it, but they insisted. I then told them I’d return the purple skirt to them once I had worn it and washed it, but they told me to keep that one too. 2 new skirts and 1 new dress in 5 days?! They really shouldn’t have. It was extremely generous of them, considering how expensive those skirts and dresses can be.

After thanking, I put on the purple skirt and walked back into the living room. My whole Pancake family stared at me. I knew that expression too. It’s the one my little sister, Romy, gives me back home when she doesn’t like what I’m wearing. “Do you have another shirt? An orange one or a green one?” The stitching on the purple skirt is orange and green, but the only clean shirts I had left were the blue one I was wearing and another teal one in my suitcase. “Let me go see what I can find,” I murmured as I walked back into my room for the second time to change. Just as I suspected, all of my green shirts were dirty and I didn’t bring an orange shirt with me to Micronesia. What to do, what to do...What the heck, let me go through my dirty clothes pile and see if anything somewhat matched and didn’t smell disgusting. I found a pinky-purple shirt, sniffed it, and decided it was my only option. I put it on and walked back outside.

“Mwowwwww!” my Pancake family exclaimed all together. Back home I would have never worn purple on purple. But I am glad my host family is looking out for me and making sure I don’t look completely American every time I leave their house.

Show some shoulder and thigh for me,

Rachel

Nohno Pancake

On Saturday, June 20^th, the other M81s and I moved in with our host families for Pre-Service Training (PST). We were all quite nervous that morning as we waited for our families to come pick us up from PATS. What if they didn’t like us? Would they teach us how to take a bucket shower? Will they show us how to properly hand wash our laundry? Will there be kids? What happens if we can’t understand each other? There were so many questions running through our heads, but the Peace Corps staff reminded us it was okay to be anxious. Once all of the families arrived at PATS, we did a quick “speed dating” round (or as one Trainee jokingly called it “speed adopting”), where the Trainees and the families received clues about each other and then had to go around and find their match. Talk about awkward first interactions.

My clues were:

1.     Father is the Deacan in the Catholic Church

2.     Mother is a good pancake maker.

3.     Family has hosted a Trainee in the past.

Armed with the 3 clues about my host family, I took a deep breath and sat down in front of the first host family. In broken Pohnpeian and English, I made my way through 2 more families before I finally found mine.

“Are you good at making pancakes?” I asked a woman I recognized as part of the PATS kitchen staff. All I got was a confused look. A man in his 30s sitting next to her leaned forward and read the paper with the 3 clues written on it. “The Deacan is my Dad…” and then he took out the sheet he had been given about the Trainee that would be staying with him. He handed it to me.

It read:

1.     Has a B.A. in Literatures and Cultures

2.     Studied Spanish

3.     Enjoys reading, writing, and doing arts and crafts.

Bingo. “That’s me!” I told them. The woman stood up from her chair and leaned across the table to give me a giant hug. What a relief. I was under the impression hugs were uncommon in the culture, especially during first meetings. She introduced herself as Nohno Maria. Her son, Hurston, the man sitting next to her, quickly said, “You can call her Nohno Pancake.” Little did I know that that was the beginning of many more pancake jokes to come.

Fast forward to when we made it back to my host family’s house (a 5 minute walk from PATS...holla!). I met Hurston’s wife, their two daughters (Lilirose, 7 and Janerose 8), his nephew they were taking care of (Estion 1), and some random people in the backyard (not that many people for a typical Pohnpeian family actually). My Nohno Pancake then told me about her husband who was in Kolonia for a meeting and who would be home later in the afternoon. “When you see him, you should say, ‘Kasalehlie Pahpa Pancake!’” she laughed. I thought she was joking. Turns out she wasn’t. When I greeted him with a polite “Kasalehlie mang” a few hours later, she glared (okay, more like sternly looked) at me until I finally gave in and said “Kasalehlie Pahpa Pancake.” He and the whole family laughed. Thank goodness.

My Nohno and Pahpa Pancake then took me to a funeral anniversary* that evening and relayed the story, I kid you not, at least 10 times about how they got their new names. Everyone laughed, including my Nohno and Pahpa each time, which made me feel part of the family and eased many of my fears about integrating.

Hurston’s eldest daughter, Janerose, especially liked asking me what my name was. I’d respond with “Etay Rachel” at first, but she wasn’t satisfied. She’d ask me for my name again. I would say, “Etay Rachel…Pancake,” when I finally caught on. She then began asking for my parent’s, sister’s, and grandparent’s names, and I’d make her giggle for minutes on end by tacking on “Pancake” to each one of them. So just a heads up Mom, Dad, and Romy. Your new names are: Rosanna Pancake, Peter Pancake, and Romy Pancake.

Later that night, as the whole family and I were sitting on the living room floor, I mentioned that I thought their puppy was adorable. “Puppy?” Nohno Pancake asked. “Puppy, like….kitti, but smaller,” I tried explaining. “You can name it,” she said. “Wait, really?” I asked. She laughed, “Puppy. Puppy Pancake will be its name.”

Guys, I accidentally named my first dog. And by the time I leave Pohnpei in August, everything will be named Pancake.

Koaros pancakes,

Rachel

P.S. We had delicious pancakes and coffee the next morning. Nohno Pancake’s clue indeed proved to be true.

Rachel Brenner

*One year funeral anniversaries are important in Pohnpeian culture, and I’m really fortunate to have gotten to go to one my first night with my host family. Since my Pahpa Pancake is a Deacan he led a short mass, which was followed by dinner and Sakau making. There were probably 30-40 people of all ages at the anniversary and I had the best time observing their interactions. During PST the Peace Corps staff had made it sound uncommon for men and women to interact for more than a few minutes, but there was a decent amount of mingling from what I saw. That could be because it was mostly family and friends, but regardless I was pleasantly surprised. The Sakau pounding was mesmerizing to watch, and tasted much better than the other times I tried it. In typical Pohnpeian fashion it started pouring, but nothing could have ruined my night. I not only felt incredibly honored to be there, but I also finally grasped how integral community is in Pohnpei.

When life gives you coconuts...

Quick update before the wifi goes out.

I'm alive. I'm well. My bug bites are greatly improving. I'm pooping normally. I'm feeding myself.  I've danced in the rain. I've played volleyball in the rain. I played soccer in a maxi dress and scored a goal. I got my first letter (thank you Anthony!). I've finished 3 books already. I do 6am yoga. My body is slowly getting use to the heat. I have supportive teammates. We find out site placements today. I can't complain.

Love you all.

Pic Post

one of the many geckos in our room

the church at PATS, our training site 

the view from our dorms...never gets old!

we try to read under this tree as often as possible

Volleyball in the rain

We are so spoiled in America whenever it rains. The second the skies turn grey and it begins to sprinkle, we grab our raincoats and rain boots and find shelter somewhere warm. We’ll call in sick from work or complain that we’d rather be curled up in bed reading a book. And it’s a bit ironic that we hide from the rain when we so dearly need it (at least in California).

Since being in Pohnpei, I’ve gotten caught in numerous rainstorms that come out of nowhere. I’ve come to gladly greet the rain, understanding its importance to the ecosystems on the island, and have tried not to worry about getting drenched. It’s bound to happen anyway.

As some Trainees and I were returning from a trip to a nearby waterfall earlier today, we passed by a basketball/volleyball court (I’ll explain) where a handful of neighborhood kids were playing. We had discovered the kids’ love for basketball yesterday when they kindly invited a few of the guys from our group to play with them. Fun fact: Pohnepians play barefoot! The guys who had been invited to join tried going barefoot, but ended up with gnarly blood blisters and torn feet by the end of the afternoon. Today, they came prepared to play with their tennis shoes on, and we joked that while it’s usually jerseys vs. skins, in Pohnpei it’s shoes vs. bare feet. While those guys were playing basketball on one side of the court, there was also a volleyball game going on midcourt (the volleyball net in the middle of the court could not be moved, so everyone was making do). When some of the kids saw us walking back from the waterfall, they invited us girls to join their game. We happily accepted, hoping for a similar bonding experience with the local Pohnpeians that the guys from our group had had yesterday playing basketball.

Let me just say this. The kids were badass volleyball players. Especially this little girl… who may have been 7 or 8? She came up to my waist, but would send the ball flying and leave us standing there in shock wondering where all that power came from. They put us Trainees to shame.

They also seemed very mature for their age. They’d say things like “Do you want to serve?” “No, no, it’s the other teams ball,” and “good teamwork!” Say what?! I don’t think I know any kid back home who shares that well and is so willing to play with someone much, much older than them!

On top of that, one of the girls on our team started giggling and dancing with another Trainee and I whenever we scored a point. I said it…dancing!! What 14 year old do you know that dances goofy with 20 something year olds that they just met?! Regardless, it put the biggest smiles on our faces and warmed our hearts. These kids were awesome. We suddenly understood what the guys were raving about after their basketball game yesterday. It didn’t matter that we came from different cultures, that we looked completely different, and spoke different languages. We were all having fun at the same time, and that is one of the greatest bonding opportunities there is. Well, until it rains.

Then it becomes even better.

The rain quickly turned from a light sprinkle to a heavy downpour as we were on the volleyball court, probably on our 4^th or 5^th game. One of the Pohnpeian girls on our team looked at another Trainee and I and asked, “Do you still want to play in the rain?” We responded that we’d still love to play and you could tell she was thrilled. We continued playing in the rain for quite some time, laughing, dancing, and forgetting cultural differences. We were all drenched by the end of it, but ask any of us where we’ll be tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll say on the volleyball court, playing with the locals and hoping it rains.

Screw umbrellas,

Rachel

Don't look up.

I remember reading one Micronesian Volunteer’s blog some months ago and her writing that it’s best not to look up when you’re in the bathroom or in the bedroom. Why? So you don’t see all the insects crawling above your head, of course! And boy is that true.

Around 4am last night, I woke with a dying urge to pee. I lay in my bed weighing the pros and cons for a few minutes of leaving my mosquito-free room, but eventually came to the conclusion that I’d rather face the unknown of the dark bathroom rather than deal with a UTI for the next few days. I grabbed my headlamp, took a breath, and quickly walked outside and into the bathroom a few doors down (we’re staying in dorms for the first two weeks of training, and even though my room is closest to the bathroom, I still feel accomplished every time I venture in there at night). As I was doing my business I made the mistake of looking up and shinning my headlamp on a spider two inches from my face. Lovely.

You think I would have learned my lesson after that, but I guess not. As I was getting ready to turn the water on for my shower this morning (yes, we’re fortunate enough to have over-head showers at the dorms!) I saw something move near the showerhead. And you know what I did? I looked up. And there, gazing at me was another lovely spider. This time bigger and much less friendly looking. Luckily there was another shower available, spider-free, but let’s just say that was the quickest shower of my life. My roommate Lisa even noted my speed when I returned to our room.

Later at breakfast another Trainee mentioned that they saw a giant crab in the shower as well. I’d take a crab over a spider any day.

I hope you all are enjoying your clean, animal-free bathrooms back home.

Rachel 

Broken strap, swollen feet, and a whole lotta love.

I don’t think I realized how difficult it is to keep up a blog when faced with jet lag, slow wifi, and experiences that need to be experienced rather than explained. But please bear with me as I attempt to capture all of these past few day’s activities in this post.

M81s at Staging in Honolulu 6/2/15

After meeting in the hotel lobby in Honolulu Wednesday morning, we (a tired, yet eager group of 19) took a bus to the Honolulu Airport to catch our 7:30am Island Hopper. As we were walking to check our luggage, I heard a snap and my laptop case that I was carrying fell the floor. I looked down to see that the shoulder strap had separated from its clasp and there would be no way I could use the strap again. Lisa, another Trainee in our group who I had also been roommates with in Honolulu, quickly came to my aid and handed me a roll of duck tape. With two strips I was able to repair my broken strap, while giving my laptop bag some character. It’s amazing what duck tape can do.

Since we were such a large group it took a while for us to check our baggage and go through security. But, we finally all made it through and boarded the plane that would take us from Honolulu to the Marshall Islands of Marjuro and Kwajelein then finally to Pohnpei.  Flying over miles and miles of ocean and then seeing these islands come out of nowhere was the most insane yet beautiful thing I had ever seen. It made absolutely no sense that there should be life in the middle of such an extensive ocean, but there the islands were, beautiful and flourishing. Definitely post-card worthy, but unfortunately I didn’t snap any photos. I was sitting next to two Micronesian women on the plane and didn’t want to seem like “that American.”

After the 9 ½ hour flight, security checks at each island, and almost-lost luggage at the Pohnpeian baggage claim, we made it to our destination. We were greeted by Peace Corps staff at the airport and were each given flower crowns. The welcome made the heat and humidity much more bearable. We were then taken to a hotel in town where we would be staying for a few days until we moved to our training site.

Lisa- my awesome roommate and fellow Trainee! 

Bananas and water from the hotel

Flower crowns from PC staff

The view from our hotel balcony

Coming from a culture where both men and women are encouraged to care for themselves, many Trainees and I began bringing our luggage to our rooms upstairs when we arrived at the hotel. We were quickly told to put our bags down and let the hotel staff do the heavy lifting. I felt awful letting 4 men carry around 80 pieces of luggage up the stairs by themselves while we all watched. But even when we tried to help with the lighter bags, we were told once again to put them down. It was very kind of them, but it reminded me that were going to be many cultural changes ahead.

Once we settled into our rooms we were invited to a welcome dinner hosted by Peace Corps staff. After introductions, we all ate together and enjoyed a wide variety of foods local to Pohnpei: breadfruit, sashimi, pork, chicken, crab, and others I honestly don’t remember (thank you jetlag). The Trainees then introduced themselves and told the staff what state they were coming from. There are only 2 other Trainees aside from myself that are from California, which really surprises me. The majority of the Trainees are from the East Coast. Everyone is so unique and has a plethora of experiences they bring to the table. The majority of us are in our early to mid 20s. Most of us have studied abroad, or at least traveled outside of the U.S. Crazy to think we’re all so different, yet similar at the same time to bring us all to join the Peace Corps. It’s great that we’re able to project a diverse image of America.

After dinner I noticed that my feet and ankles were swollen to almost twice their size, so I sat with my feet on my suitcase for a couple of hours before heading to bed. They were still swollen in the morning, but luckily my Chacos have adjustable straps so I was able to loosen them before we headed out into town for our first day of Pre-Service Training (PST—Peace Corps loves acronyms). It reminded me of my first few weeks studying abroad in Italy when my feet were equally as swollen and uncomfortable to walk on. I thought it was due to walking on cobblestone, but I’m now thinking it has more to do with altitude and temperature changes when traveling from one place to another (did I mention Micronesia is incredibly hot and humid?).

From when we arrived to when we left Kolonia, the Pohnpeians we met were all incredibly warm and welcoming. Not only our staff, but people we came into contact while walking through town. Some would go out of their way to say “hi” to us and one man even stopped his car to let us cross the street and called out the window: “Welcome to Pohnpei!” From what we noticed so far, the women seem demure but seem to have this loving aura around them. We’re obviously still learning and observing the culture, but so far we’ve really enjoyed and appreciated the hospitality the Pohnpeians have given us.

I’m thankful not only for their hospitality and kindness, but also the opportunity to return such things to them. My fellow trainees are just as awesome, supporting each other as we try to integrate into this new culture and environment, and I hope I can be just as supportive as they are to me. I know these next 27 months are going to be challenging, but I can’t wait to see what’s in store. I love it so far.

Sending all my love,

Rachel

Aloha

After sitting inside during Staging all day, I decided to take a dip in our hotel pool. 

Tomorrow we board a 7am Island Hopper to Micronesia! We should arrive around 2pm Thursday, June 4th (Micronesian time). Until then, I'm going to go enjoy all the hot showers, wifi, electricity, and comfy beds that I can. Oh, and Starbucks. There's conveniently one right across the street from our hotel. 

Stay well, 

Rachel