"We're going to have the word love
in many different languages translated all through the trackSo, 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
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.
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
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.
2 comments:
hey man, looks like you're doing good over there, miss you back home bud, not the same not being able to drink a bottle of bourbon and pick up the phone to have in depth, thought-provoking conversations. anyway, let me know how things are going, from what I've seen and read, looks to be pretty good. later bro.
-jj
Luke, ran into Sharita at the store today and she sends you her love and that is a lot of love.
Dad
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