crank dat air con soulja boy.

Every single day over the past two weeks I’ve said to myself or to others, “this is the sweatiest I’ve ever been,” and the thing is, each time I’ve said it I’ve been correct. The days are getting hotter and hotter, and the breeze is dying out. Can I get a what what for today’s heat index of ONE-OH-NINE?! The still, hot air is enough to make you lose your mind. It’s like every day is a three hour dabke at the Lebanese convention, except in this situation my nose is the biggest by far.

Something I’ve found funny since day one is that everyone here calls air conditioning “air con”. What ever happened to referring to it as A/C? Right? It just makes me think of “Con Air,” a movie I’ve still never seen despite my dad’s best efforts. I wish we could crank dat air con, but alas, we cannot. 

I’m making due with praying for gentle breezes throughout the blazing afternoons, and I feel like the Israelites in Exodus when they’re stranded in the desert for forty years (I just taught an analytical lesson about this - yeah, I can tell you what anagogical interpretation means - so let me have this moment of glory). So Moses was all, “God, can you provide some food for us so we won’t die here?” and He was like, “You got it, dude. But don’t be stingy.” And then the morning dew turned into manna but errbody in da club gettin’ greedy and obviously God wasn’t pleased. So long, unnecessary story short, I’m trying not to be greedy and just appreciate the breeze when the Lord (or meteorological science) provides it.

my favorite sight in the whole world: black silhouettes against a colorful sky  

Aside from the heat, this past week and a half was full of noteworthy events. Last Saturday was both hellish and enjoyable. What a combination, right? Some kids (seven, to be exact) wanted to spend the afternoon with us so we saw the island through the eyes of children. We used machetes to cut down bamboo to play with and later hiked up to a radio tower nearby.

The tower is about a 20 minute walk from the volunteer house, but this leisurely afternoon outing quickly turned into a nearly three hour excursion where my roommate Sarah and I ended up carrying two of the younger children up and down the hills for an excruciating period of time (because we were led astray and got very lost). Morale was low and rations were lower - we ran out of water in the first fifteen minutes so the third hour was a beating to say the least. But the view from the top was unbelievable - you can see the whole island.

pretty killer view.

I acquired two new possessions the weekend before school started. The first is not fully mine, but my roommate Abby got a dog. We had just watched Shrek so we named her Princess Fiona (are there even other female characters in that movie? UGH we should’ve named her dragon. Hindsight, man) but we just call her Fi. She’s preh cute I guess, but she ain’t no Riley. She ate her own poop for a few days but then we started feeding her more, so problem solved!!!11!!111! Straight up, we ("of course when I say we, I mean [Abby]") are taming a wild animal. Oh, and the other thing I got was a bike. It's sick. And I broke the chain on the second day of ownership but it's cool, I fixed it all by myself so I'm learning cool skills out here.

Last Tuesday, our first day of school, was a blur. I couldn’t tell you one thing that happened if I tried. Wednesday ended with me crying in my principal’s office telling him I’m a failure as a teacher and I’m not cut out for this job and I have no idea what I’m doing. The rest of the week was full of lessons that fell flat, jokes that killed for reasons unbeknownst to me (the students laugh at things I don’t understand, but then when I think I’m being hilarious there are crickets), accidentally putting my hand in gecko poop, (nearly 1,000) embarrassing moments where I called students by the wrong name, and countless moments of excitement that my brain won’t seem to let me remember because it is distracted by the negative.

truly, this place is a teacher's paradise.

You know in Daddy Daycare (yes, I'm making this reference) when Eddie Murphy is like oh yeah I can totally run a daycare and then he starts one and it’s a disaster? So let me rephrase the question - do you know the plot of Daddy Daycare (there’s my literature teacher mind hard at work)? Think of those early scenes, where the kids are running everywhere and it just makes you cringe to think that someone is doing so horribly at the way-too-big task they’ve taken up. That’s what my first week felt like. I am Eddie Murphy. Or worse, I’m the other guy who’s name I don’t know but sometimes I get him mixed up with John Goodman, but he’s not John Goodman. You know who I’m talking about? I’m good at describing things.

mild confusion after the first day. from left to right: Abby, Me, Sarah, Mike, Nick

Overall, school is so different from what I expected. Why did I think I could teach high school? It is soooooOooOoOOOoo different from elementary school. But, I didn’t quite like teaching elementary school, so I’m supposed to love this, right? Well, maybe. I don’t think it really works that way. This job is stressful and demanding and intimidating, but I can push myself to do it. Because it is also WONDERFUL and rewarding and exciting. My students are the hardest working people I have ever met, and I say that with a lot of confidence knowing them for only 9 days now. If they can work hard, I should be working even harder.

view from the classroom windows.

The mission of my school is absolutely beautiful. The aim is to bring these students, who typically enter on a 5th, 6th, or 7th grade level as freshmen, to be college-ready in just four years. Nearly all of the students will attend college off of the island, many going to schools in Guam, Hawaii, and the continental United States. A major goal for the school is to have students return to Yap Catholic High School with their degrees from competitive universities and run the school themselves. Hopefully, in just a few years there will be no more volunteer teachers. There will only be local teachers and administrators. This goal of a self-sustaining school is so inspiring, and I am grateful to be a part of this process. I am humbled by knowing that I am just playing a small and temporary role here, preparing future educators to take my place. I see so much promise in these students, whatever careers they decide to pursue. Gosh, they are brilliant kids.

Like one of my sophomores. He’s teaching himself Latin. WHAT. I could tell you something equally impressive about each of the 81 students I teach. But I’m already talking too much.

Okay wait, another thing about my students (sorry - I have to brag for them, culturally they aren’t allowed to brag!) THEY HAVE SOME SERIOUS PIPES. Every. Single. Student. Their singing voices are absolutely unreal. I shared a video on Facebook a few days back from our first mass and guys, the quality did not shine through. My juniors sing in homeroom as they’re packing up and I almost cry every time. They’ve been singing all kinds of hymns that hold real significance in my life and it always catches me off guard - they haven’t seen me cry yet (can you believe it?) but I know it’s coming.

I started a new hobby! Paddling. Like, in a canoe. I LOVE IT. And I’m good at it (but how hard could it be, right? WRONG. It’s hard, let me have this. “But it was hard for me, SO BACK OFF.” - Billy Madison). It feels great to find something new that you’re good at. One of the instructors, Sam, asked me several times if I was lying about never having done it before. Must be hereditary - I’ve inherited just about every other trait from my mother, so why not this one? Hope you can relive your war canoe days through me, mama. And BONUS, Mom! It's improving my posture exponentially. I'll be standing straight in no time ;)

learning to paddle the same way I learned to surf - dudes drawing lines in the sand (Leah).

One thing I have to be careful of is keeping my hands dry. If I start thinking too hard, I splash my paddle in the water and my hands get wet and that’ll lead to blisters. “Got some blisties…” “Yeah, you do.” (meeting my office quote-a for the week).

It feels amazing to be out on the water. No matter how far out we paddle, you can always see straight to the bottom. It is so beautiful. The water is a perfect shade of greenish blue. Those who have traveled with me, think: Blue Creek, Belize or the river running through Mostar, Bosnia. It’s stunning, and I am in love with the way the setting sun shines through the rain clouds and reflects on the water. Paddling at dusk is a straight up gift, and I am grateful for it. So I made some new friends (Jeff, Zach Schlapkohl…friends) who are older than my parents and found my after school activity for Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I’m stoked.

Also my gardening club is so fun but I obviously don’t know anything - like at our first meeting I was like, “Y’ALL LET’S GO PLANT THESE TOMATO PLANTS THAT SOMEONE GAVE ME” and they were like, “You can’t just dig a hole in the grass and expect things to grow,” and I was like, “oh.” —— And those are 100% direct quotes, so that’s how that’s going.

Time for a little shout out. MY DUDE - SMELLIOT. Elliot was the first person to send me a letter (okay, it was a postcard, but still) and it was the BEST. If you know me well, you know I’m obsessed with mail. I’m fascinated with the postal service. So please, feed my obsession and write to me! I made a bet with one of the Jesuits that we wouldn’t have mail every mail day (mail only comes in on Mondays and Wednesdays) but he said between us volunteers that we would definitely have mail every mail day. But I don’t know, y’all, I’m here for 40 something weeks, so mail me stuff and fill those gaps so I can be proved wrong (because Jesuits are always right). 

Gosh, I’ve written a novel and a half. If you made it to the end, congratulations! I love you all for reading. Know that I am doing well here. I am still so uncomfortable (like…every minute of every day) but I know this will subside. I will get used to this life. There are so many things to be grateful for, and I have wonderful friends and family members who remind me of that every day. Thank you for supporting in me and believing in me when life gets hard. Truly, you are the inspiration that keeps pushing me through the hard days. I would hate to let any of you down. I love you, thanks for reading!