I’m
used to questions. People are always
asking me what different countries are like, what things are challenging, and
what is rewarding – but traveling to Micronesia was probably the first time I
had friends asking me if my next destination was even a real location. Well, turns out, my plane ticket to
Micronesia was not a scam; and the tiny island of Pohnpei does, in fact, exist.
Micronesia
is comprised of several states, each of which is comprised of many islands. I am currently living on a small island
within the state of Pohnpei. If you care
to browse the internet for pictures of Pohnpei and stumble across breathtaking
photos of waterfalls and beaches that look too good to be true, you’ve actually
reached a quite accurate view of Micronesia.
It undoubtedly is one of the most beautiful places on the planet.
The
Iris Micronesia mission school is being held at a marine park that offers
access to a lagoon, coral reefs, and open ocean. While living here, I have seen countless
fish, a massive stingray, and even a sea turtle bumbling by. Some days I feel like I live in an
aquarium. Monday through Thursday, we
spend the mornings in class but usually have a few hours free in the afternoon
before night class. We are able to swim
through the lagoon, kayak in the ocean, or take a walk down a road that looks
like a scene from Jurassic Park. I am not sure if I technically live in a
rainforest or a jungle, but either way, it’s pretty cool.
The
varying hues of the water (depending upon the coral, depth, and tide) creates
breathtaking views that change each day.
The stars at night are mesmerizing, and it’s easy to get a neck ache
from looking up for so long. Almost
every place I’ve been on the island has stunning views of the ocean. Even in a poor village, people live in homes
with views we would pay millions for in the states. While on a village outreach, my group stayed
at a modest house atop a hill where our hosts apologized for the lack of luxury. I gazed out their window - view of mountains,
palm trees, sparkling ocean, and a brilliant rainbow stretched across it all –
and I assured our host we had far more than we could have ever asked for.
Fortunately,
the beauty in Pohnpei makes up for what the school lacks in physical
comfort. The students and staff are
split up into small homes – some merely tents and others open-walled huts. I was placed in a hut with three other girls,
and we each have a little space on our wooden floor for our belongings and
sleeping mats. Every night, I fall
asleep to the sound of geckos chirping and rats scurrying across the rafters of
our hut. The rats here are most
definitely a mutant species that has the ability to chew through tents and
thick plastic containers, as well as jump from trees into the ocean and swim
like fish. When one of the girls who
lives in my hut first arrived to the island, she saw a large animal in a tree
and excitedly exclaimed, “There are monkeys here?!” Much to her dismay, I soberly replied, “That
wasn’t a monkey. That was a rat. It’s just the size of a monkey.”
I
spent my first few nights nuzzled under a mosquito net but started to notice
the top of the net collecting rat poop.
A little more added to the pile each day. Trying to be hardcore, I continued to forgo the
use of my tent. However, after a
cockroach made its way under the mosquito net and crawled onto my legs while I
was trying to sleep, I decided to abandon my wimpy mosquito net and erected a
tent inside my hut for double protection.
Every night, I now crawl into my tent, zip that door as tight as it will
go, and pray that all critters stay out.
Unfortunately, the cockroaches have found elsewhere to explore and
regularly appear in my suitcase, backpack, purse, etc. I wrestled one this morning before getting
dressed as it decided to crawl through all of my clothes before I finally
whacked it across my hut and found a bug-free outfit.
My
animal-infested hut is conveniently situated right next to a port-o-potty, a
far cry from the porcelain piece of heaven I use at home. Quite frankly, I’d rather just dig a hole
outside, but there is nowhere on base to do so discreetly. Instead, we have a handful of overused
port-o-potties which are filled with maggots, an occasional gecko, and then the
normal port-o-potty goodies. One of my new
friends has deemed the port-o-potty directly across from my hut “the pit of
death.” Though I am thankful for a short
walk to the toilet during the dark hours of the night, the lingering smell from
“the pit of death” is not my favorite thing about Pohnpei.
The
rain is another challenge here, as Micronesia is the second rainiest place on
the globe. The threat of precipitation
is constant. Since our hut is nothing more
than a roof, a wooden floor, pillars, and three partial walls, we are growing
accustomed to being wet. Without real
walls and doors, our hut offers little protection from the continual rain. I have tried to keep my belongings as dry as
possible, but this has proved an impossible feat. Our clothes smell like mold, and everything
always feels a little bit soggy. Some
nights, we get rained on while sleeping, and I am learning to deal with the
moist feeling of my sheets that never really goes away.
Despite
the challenges Mother Nature regularly creates, the beauty of Micronesia far
outweighs the challenges. My bed is
literally about six feet from the ocean.
I stepped out of my bed the other day and saw a sea turtle swimming by. I felt like I’d woken up inside a really cool
movie. I feel blessed that my house is
on the ocean, that I see crazy animals every day, that I live in a rainforest/jungle,
and that the scenery is breathtaking.
From Friday
through Sunday, students are not in class but instead participate in a variety
of outreaches. The students are divided
into “tribes,” and we staff are each responsible for leading one. My tribe is named Rafiki, the Swahili word
for friend. The members of Rafiki are
passionate about Africa, and we are dreaming of how we can collaborate after
the school and make a loving impact on that continent.
Each weekend,
we are assigned to different outreaches around Pohnpei. We spent our first weekend in a village, and
this week we visited the local hospital and prison. In upcoming weeks, we will be traveling to
another island, learning water survival/spear fishing, and training on a “mountain
survival” weekend. So far, I’ve enjoyed
the outreaches and the time getting to know my tribe better and better. All in all, the outreaches have reinforced
the lesson God has been teaching me over and over again throughout all of my
travels – love is what people desire more than anything in the world.
On my
tribe’s first outreach, we were stationed in a village where there was very
little to do. We were basically dropped
off at a stranger’s doorstep (who knew we were coming) and told to bless the family. After repeatedly asking what we could do to
serve the family, if there were any needs in the community, if there were sick
people we could pray for, etc., we realized that the only thing the family
actually wanted was to spend time together.
Instead of working, we sat around sharing our testimonies and singing
worship songs together. On our second
day of simply having fellowship time, I wondered how our hosts were
feeling. The woman of the household said
that she wanted to share her heart with us and explained that she’d been
craving fellowship with other believers.
She’d felt quite isolated previously and was overjoyed to have people
worshipping in her home. Tears streaming
from her eyes, she continually thanked us for our visit.
Once
again, the Lord reminded me that love does not always look the way we
think. Love is not a program or a church
service. Love is a person, and His name
is Jesus. And His presence came to the
village, the hospital, the prison, etc. with us. That’s what people really want. We explained to our village hosts that Iris Ministries
would be holding a church service every Wednesday evening at our base, and the
family has come each week following our visit.
They are a part of our family now.
This
past weekend, part of our outreach entailed picking up trash on the streets of
Pohnpei before entering the prison. We
strolled along the road nearby the jail, throwing all kinds of rubbish into our
large bags. Some of the locals with
houses along this street began to ask why we would spend time picking up
trash. Astonished that a bunch of white
people were cleaning garbage on their streets, they invited us into their
homes. Within minutes, coconuts were cut
open, flowers for our hair were picked, and one lady invited one of the guys
and me to eat chicken and rice at her house.
With nowhere to wash my hands, I squeamishly dug in to the food kindly
offered by this stranger, praying that the filth from my hands wouldn’t make
its way into my stomach.
Because
of strict visiting hours at the prison, we reluctantly had to cut our time in
the woman’s house short; but she was thankful for the brief time together. Though we were the ones being fed and
welcomed, she continually thanked us for accepting her invitation to join her
for some food. Clearly, the Pohnpeian
culture is extremely warm and hospitable; and it really is such a good reminder
of the way we should live our lives.
Instead of being lost in the busyness of life, people are focused on
family, relationships, enjoying fellowship, and hospitality.
As
our school and time on the island continues, I pray that God will pour out His presence
more and more each day and that I will hear His voice clearly. I am praying for a long term team to pioneer
a project in Africa and a strong vision for the future. Thanks to everyone who is partnering in
prayer and love.
