Expect...

"Great expectations, on our committee Unified relations

We Rebel our Rhythm through tribulations

And treble and bass the situation with dedication"

-Jurassic 5

Expectations. Travelers, tourists, volunteers, friends, family, and all who venture out, leave not only with the luggage in their hands, but also the expectations in their hearts. My first 4 months in Pohnpei have both fulfilled and transfigured my expectations time and time again.

Jesuit Volunteers ascribe to the 4 pillars of social justice, living simply, witnessing faith, and community life. All are broad ideas, which carry with them a wide spectrum of reality from one person to the next. Truths of each can be different from one person to the next and vice versa. However, all are shaped in our heads pre-departure as an image of expectation to what life is truly like at our destination.

Expectations meet reality very early and often. When I signed up as a JV, to be honest, my mind was warped with images of helping the "poorest of the poor," like images seen in photos of Mother Theresa or others who dedicate to upholding the underrepresented, undernourished, and underscored. 

Thanksgiving has been a re-shaping of my expectations to the realities of the situation here in Micronesia. At Pohnpei Catholic School, the tradition is for the kids families to bring local food for their land and donate it as a gift at mass. From there the food is brought to the sick at the State hospital and further to the prisoners in the state jail. 

The donations were staggering. Bananas, mangoes, breadfruit, taro, yams, and coconuts galour. Fr. Cav said mass and his message was one that struck me. Pohnpei is a vibrant land of nourishment. Fruits and vegetables grow in abundance and with relative ease. No one goes hungry in Pohnpei. However, it is the role of the community to look after those who have little, in thanks for our abundance. As an American this notion of abundance was one I had missed. I had expected life to be short on luxuries here on island, and had shaped my expectations to miss the incredible gift of food and vegetables made available.

My 8th graders delivered the food with ease and comfort. They upheld the work as an honor and responsibility. I was very proud and honored to be associated with them, let alone to be called their teacher. More than anything, the experience re-shaped my expectations on the customs, culture, and reality of this place. People are not starving for a reason, the community is established enough to recognize the abundance, give thanks to said abundance, and give to those in need. This is not charity, or a hand-out, it is a simple reality. 

I would like to call the re-shaping of my expectations a learning experience. I learned something through the experience. The work I do hear will be far out-shined by the work this place does to me. For this I am thankful for the opportunity to observe and gain insight. When I return home, my expectations will once again be re-shaped, however, the truths I have seen here will stay with me.

Some of my 8th grade girls being un-characteristically un-shy for the camera.
Our music teacher entertaining us between deliveries.
Some of the 8th grade boys loading up a pick-up full of bannanas
The girls ready to depart.
The food donated.

Symbolize...

"'Jesus Walks'

God show me the way because the devil trying to break me down

'Jesus Walks'

The only thing that I pray is that me feet don't fail me now..."

  --Kanye West "Jesus Walks"

Symbols define our world. It would be impossible to imagine a day to day routine without some symbol. From the green light to the power button, from the crucifix to the dollar, there is no lack of "deeper meanings" to the objects we use to symbolize.

In preparation of our school-wide Christmas presentation, the campus minister of PCS asked that we plan our program around the idea "What if Jesus were born in Micronesia?" She asked, very appropriately, how Jesus would be received, what aspects of the culture would adhere to the His presence and what aspects would inhibit it. Sister proposed also that, in light of Pohnpei being an international island and PCS a international community, each culture represented at PCS play the role of wise-men and women and deliver the figurative Gold, Frankincense And Mir appropriate to their home lands. 

In Pohnpei there could be no better symbol of the culture than Sakau. Sakau, a plant that is prepared as a drink, represents the adherence to community, reliance on the land, and right of forgiveness that represent the Pohnpeian's. In Pohnpeian society, no one, not even a chief, can deny the Sakau. If someone wrongs another they prepare and deliver Sakau to the individual to right the discrepancy. Interestingly enough, if the person denies the Sakau, which figuratively denies the apology, the community looks down upon the individual in defiance. Much more, the wrongs of the first offender are forgiven by the community and in accordance delivered to he who denies the Sakau. In effect, no one is bigger than the Sakau, and further, no individual bigger than the community. 

Sakau, therefore becomes an incredibly important symbol to give the new born Jesus because it is not only a tool for forgiveness, but it also represents a cultural ideology, that no individual is bigger, better, or more important than the community.

Of course, each other island; Yap, Chuuk, Kosrae, Majuro, and the Philippines had similar symbols of their culture which, immediately became clear to the individuals speaking for each, and in turn, easily represented the core values of the given society. 

"Luke, what symbol, what gift will you Americans give to the newborn Jesus?" My mind raced, surely the answer was right in front of me...I thought and I thought, and nothing came. Jokingly one of our teachers responded "Money!" Everyone in the room, including myself now embarrassed nothing had immediately come, began to laugh at the comment. Unable to stall much longer I told Sister I would need time to ponder the idea for awhile. 

Here, in a country half way across the world, the last thing I thought I would have to confuse me would be American culture! Yet, Sister's question and the money comment had jostled me. Where these really the symbols of my culture? Money, stocks, goods, vales, supplies, demands, profit, loss, buy, sell? I scanned my thoughts for nostalgic remembrance of my home; yet, as I did so, I found that amidst my immersion into a completely new culture, what I was getting was an outsiders perspective into what America is and how it is perceived abroad. 

Troubled, I took more time to think about symbols and their value. Would a newborn Jesus accept money as a symbol? What about pay to Caesar what is his and to God what is God's? A bit shook, I encouraged myself to be realistic.

Around the same time I passed a house near our JV house which was painted Red, White, and Blue. The house was having a party, and as Jo returned from it, I found out why. A relative of the family who owned the house had enlisted as an American soldier to fight and eventually give his life in the war in Iraq. To honor the man, the family had picked a symbol, the American flag, he died for to remember him with. As an American, I found this hard to swallow and felt incredibly humbled by the family and the Micronesian who had chosen to fight and die for what he felt was right. Whether or not one agrees with the motives of the war is irrelevant when considering this man, this man with a different culture, a different background, and a different world altogether, had given his life to defend the symbols I was struggling so hard to define.

Finally, after many discussions and deliberations Jo and I walked into Sister's office and explained to her that if we were to give one thing to the newborn King of King's that war a symbol of our culture it would be legal freedom. Laws and statutes that guarantee the rights of individuals to think, worship, speak, and often times strive to profit as much as they could. It took some time to explain why this was not a tangible gift, like a food, a drink, a basket, or some type of tool. However, eventually Sister accepted the it and put it in the script. 

Symbols define our ideas, our ideals, our motives and our cultures. Yet, more than anything they make us take a cold hard look at what we represent. As I continue my two years I am sure many more will come up to accept, deny, but most importantly to examine.  I encourage all to look deep into their lives and reflect upon what symbols represent them, to better see how they and in turn others may define them.

Universal Language

"We're going to have the word love

in many different languages translated all through the track
So, whenever you hear the word love
Know that, it's going to be in a different language
The language of love cannot be translated"

--Talib Kweli

In the states language is incredibly underrated. Despite numerous debates about the influx of Spanish, I feel we take for granted the ability to always "understand" one another. 

After a month in Pohnpei I have seen the drawbacks of a language barrier. There is nothing more concrete than differing languages to inject the notion that you and someone else are from differnet backgrounds, cultures, and even worlds. My Pohnpeian is coming slowly along, but in no way can I speak with the people here. 

Yet, why is it speech is so central to our communication? Surely, in our closest relationships we have seen how nonverbal communications conveys so much more in terms of emotion and feeling than understanding the words coming out of each other's mouths. It is different in the classroom while teaching because all of the kids are expected to speak English, and if they do not understand something it is my role to put that information in their heads

I have never been one for reading others non-verbally, or one for reading minds. However, I am one for sport, which has become quickly my first honest and open communication with those I can not understand through words. 

No more than 45 minutes of the plane, Fr. Fran had convinced me to play basketball with him that afternoon. Jet lagged, in a state of awe of my new surroundings, and simply tired from three days of traveling I was a bit hesitant. However, as I have since learned Fr. Fran is not one to take no for an answer. 

I played, horribly, and sweat, profusely. However, suddenly I felt a sense of ease with such new people. As I perspired, panted, and rested, they could see I was travel worn but still trying my best. 

At least three times a week we now play, and through looks, intensity of competition, and the simple enjoyment of a game, those who play regularly have become my friends. We know each other through a simple game and communicate many things, how our day went, what we are discouraged about, life's joys, through how we play a game each day. We do this by never saying a word, in English or Pohnpeian.

I thank Fr. Fran for lighting the spark that became my first lesson in universal communication

Below are a few pictures of life here. Some are from my home, some from school. Recently we had Pohnpei Catholic School Charter day which celebrated the beginning of the school and was celebrated with fun and games. I coached the yellow team and a good time was had by all, it was great to see the kids having so much fun

My room, thank God for the fan.
Our house, with new roof and paint job.
The basketball court I made my debut on 45 minutes after walking off the plane my first day in Pohnpei (thanks Fr. Fran)
Pohnpei Catholic School
Old Ruins on the Catholic Mission
My classroom from my desk, very simple (and peaceful) with no students in it.

My classroom building with Sokeh's Rock in the background

Charter Day games, the kids had a blast.
Musical chairs.
My classroom from the back (notice the stack of ungraded papers on my desk)

3,2,1 Blast Off...

Walk like warriors, we were never told to run

Explored the world to return to where my soul begun

Never looking back or too far in front of me

The present is a gift

and I just wanna BE

 -Common

 

 

2 weeks of orientation, 1 week in Pohnpei…and so begins life as a Jesuit Volunteer

 

Where to start, without doubt the sentiment delivered by Common above is what I will take from a great orientation. Through presentations, reflection, prayer, and socializing, I feel the core message pre-departure was that to do great work with others and abroad, one must first turn inward and work on oneself. So I left John Carroll University, not only in awe of the people I had met, such incredible people, but with a better sense of how to “BE.” It has become my mission to embark on this experience by attempting to see and find God in all things, as Common, Carlos Mejia, Fr. Howard Grey, fellow JV staff/presenters, and fellow volunteers enlightened me, that search must start within myself.

 

After three days of travel (four if one considers the day gained by crossing the international date line) I arrived to the dream I call Pohnpei. Pohnepei’s beauty is indescribable and when my camera is finally charged I will be sure to upload some photos. It is unlike any place I have ever been, like a hidden world amassed in an endless blue. What has stuck me most is the abundance of life. Whether it be tree, plant, ant, gecko,shark, spider, fruit, turtle, dog, person, there is life everywhere on this island. To a degree, life is so abundant it is almost bursting out from this small island to only be held back by the gaping waves and wind of the mighty Pacific.

 

Life is not only present here but it has a giant smile at all times. Upon first days, I have felt so blessed to be warmly greeted and accepted by each Pohnpeian I have met. Despite the fact many speak little or no English did not detour them, a smile is always on their faces. Life is simpler and slower here, which will take some getting used to, but as long as the niceties and pleasantries are extended for the next two years it should be no problem at all. Classes start in 5 days, I will be teaching 8^th grade which is very exciting, and am spending most of my days cleaning my classroom, meeting the staff at Pohnpei Catholic School, and acquainting myself to the daunting tropical heat (I sweat constantly).

 

To my fellow JV’s I just want to wish you all luck as we begin our journeys, it gives me solace to know that around the globe, I am in such great company. To my family and friends, I already miss you all but am adjusting well to this tropical paradise. Kasalellia meinko.

Rise Up...

Such is the way of the world

You can never know


Just where to put all your faith


And how will it grow



 

Gonna rise up


Burning back holes in dark memories


Gonna rise up


Turning mistakes into gold



 

Such is the passage of time


Too fast to fold


And suddenly swallowed by signs


Low and behold



 

Gonna rise up


Find my direction magnetically


Gonna rise up


Throw down my ace in the hole

 

As is typical, I don’t think I could have phrased my feelings as well as Eddie Vedder does above… With a month until departure I am a mass of hope and anticipation of the future ahead. On a recent bike ride, my thoughts were on a constant teeter between the wave of excitement to “rise up” and engage in the next chapter of my life, while at the same time, the melancholy of leaving the familiar continues to trickles into my thoughts.

 

Growing up with a mother who was a librarian, reading books was always a pastime of my childhood. I loved reading and still do today. The idea of jumping to other times, places, or even worlds by simply turning a page was an adventure I always cherished. However, as a child I always hated finishing the book. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love when the rising action leads to a literary catharsis, and all the conflicts are resolved in some way, but I always dreaded turning the last page and ending the relationships I had established with the characters and their stories. I knew deep down that the story would not be complete until it was finished but still felt a certain reluctance to spending all that time and effort into immersion and simply coming to the end and moving on to something else.

 

Amidst the fray of graduation I feel a similar hesitance. One month from now, not only do I open a new book but figuratively take the pen and begin my own story. Soon enough I will begin my tenure as a Jesuit Volunteer in Pohnpei, Micronesia. The story is one I have been anxious to write for some time now, however, the nostalgia of closing a new book from my youth continues to creep up at times.

 

I look to great endings for solace. Unlike works of the pen, film is a medium conducive to great endings. The Sixth Sense, The Usual Suspects, Kubrick’s finest, and the works of Akira Kurosawa build stories that rely on strong endings. If you will, begin to imagine the Star Wars trilogy without the shock of the phrase “Luke I am your father…” Surprises are innate to our human psyche. We seek the unexpected to give our lives new meaning, but can only grip such surprises by accepting them and opening up new endings. Much like a great film, surprise endings and un-foreseeable new beginnings give our lives new meanings and deeper understandings.

 

So, I am going to heed Eddie’s advice and rise up and embrace the uncertainty of a new beginning with the fervor of one doing his best to live the best he can, love all he meets, and regret nothing. For those not available to join me on this new adventure, I invite you to follow along my blog, I promise to keep you appraised of the new chapters that continue to open up in my life.

 

As well, I would like to thank all those who have donated to JVI on my behalf over the last month and a half. Your incredible generosity makes the work of  JV’s like myself possible. For any still wishing to donate, Checks can be made out to “Jesuit Volunteers International” c/o Luke Lavin, and mailed to Jesuit Volunteers International, P.O. 3756 Washington, D.C. 20027-0256. If you prefer, online donations made be made by check or credit card at www.jesuitvolunteers.org/donatejvi. JVI is a 501 non-profit corporation with an IRS tax identification number of 52-1360384. All donations are fully tax deductible.