Pohnpaip Petroglyphs

Just before we let for Kosrae we again took advantage of our colleague’s wife and her ability to drive us places.  We visited a historical site in Madolenihmw called Pohnpaip Petroglyphs.  Pohnpei’s Eco-Tourism website (http://www.pohnpei-adventure.com) has this to say about the site:  

Just south of the newly renovated Sapwalap Elementary School lies one of Micronesia’s most unusual sites. More than 700 prehistoric motifs are inscribed on rocks in the area, the largest collection adorning a 60 by 25 meter naturally terraced basalt outcropping called Pohnpaip (“on the boulder”). Though the pictures are fading in the face of Pohnpei’s relentless rains, it’s still possible to discern human figures, feet, hands, fish hooks, a boat, the sun and moon, and many shapes that may be canoe paddles or loom pegs (often mistaken for daggers).

Different stories are told about the origin of this rock. In one, the outcropping was created when two mischievous brothers named Mwohnmur and Sarapwau — the same boys who created Takaiuh in the Kepine area and the Sahwar Gorge in Salapwuk — stole a blanket from Kitti decorated with strange symbols (some informants attribute this action to Olsihpa and Olsohpa instead of Mwohnmur and Sarapwau). The blanket was transformed into the rock with the symbols still intact. In another tale, Pohnpaip was the house of two men, Mahntik and Mahnlap, who passed into the rock through a magical door and traveled to a far land. Knocking with small stones at the location where the door to the house is purported to be produces a hollow sound as if there were, indeed, a cavity beneath the rock’s surface.

More petroglyphs are found on a collection of smaller boulders located in the grassy plain to the northeast. The large rock closest to Pohnpaip is called Takain Pahsu (“vagina rock”) and is said to be the genitalia of a mythical woman who broke into pieces. The woman’s buttocks are found on the other side of the road along with several other boulders with petroglyphic images. One is covered with enveloped equilateral crosses similar to those found in Vanuatu, New Caledonia, and the Solomon Islands, possibly indicating a link between the site and the Lapita culture active in the region about 2,000 years ago. To date, no one is sure who created the petroglyphs or when they were created. Rock art of this sort is uncommon in the Micronesian islands.

When we arrived, we paid the usual $3/person to the local family, several of whom accompanied us up a track to the site.  We asked lots of questions, but language was a bit of a problem.  That said, most of our questions were answered by a shrug and the non-explanation that the old people who could tell us about what we were seeing were long gone.  So, much of the mystery remains.  There are those who believe the answer lies in some sort of alien invasion, similar to the mysteries surrounding nearby Nan Madol.  Explanations aside, this is some of what we saw:

The trail leading to the site.

The bare rock surface where most of the petroglyphs are located

A Pohnpeian Christmas

How to describe Christmas in the tropics?  First I would say that the Christmas spirit is definitely here.   The usual trappings, Christmas lights and tinsel decorations, are here too, but my favorite things are missing…no snow, fresh Christmas trees with that balsam smell, and kids with rosy cheeks from playing in the cold.

That being said, we are making the most of what Pohnpei does have to offer…very generous and friendly people who are kind enough to include us in some of the holiday festivities.  Just this afternoon I passed a high school girl on my way to the post office.  I said hello and she returned the greeting with Merry Christmas.  Nice.

We have attended some gathering this week at several Kolonia Town Schools.  On Tuesday we went to the Christmas Program for one of the elementary schools.  Imagine a gymnasium filled with excited kids from pre-school to 8^th grade!  It started off fairly quietly with Christmas songs from each grade level…some in English and some in Pohnpeian.  We wonder about their understanding of Jingle Bells…what is snow and a one-horse open sleigh?  The older students danced, which was quite a treat.  Then things got pretty wild when the 8^th graders threw candy to the crowd…it was pretty much over at that point.  But what fun everyone had, and we were glad to have been a part of it.

Kolonia Elementary School held its program at the neighboring College of Micronesia gymnasium.

The littlest participants

The coolest participants

On Thursday the staff at PICS High School had their Christmas luncheon.  We were “special” guests and asked to sit at the front table.  The food was plentiful (as it always is) and we were served large plates of Pohnpeian delicacies like tapioca, breadfruit, sashimi, and yams.  It was amazing how quickly the food disappeared.  Most of it was packed away by the teachers to take home to their families.

The dancing social studies department

Somehow, all that food disappeared!

Peace Corps folks are always considered guests of honor, whether we want the distinction or not.  As such, we were served with a full plate.

Friday morning was PICS student Christmas parties.  We were invited to a 9^th grade party.  Tosh, one of our favorite teachers (he often stops by our office to chat and to cool off with our air conditioning), was in charge.  The kids were just like any 9^th graders…into their friends and eating chips and cookies.  Tosh’s 4 year-old daughter was there too, and she had a great time playing and eating.  (By the way, Roger and I visited one of Tosh’s classes a couple of weeks ago to watch a lesson.  He introduced haiku poetry writing.  We were very happy to see the students’ poems posted on the wall in the classroom today.  Some of them were very good).

Teacher "Tosh" and his daughter

Last night, Christmas Eve, we were invited to a family gathering, hosted by Chief Panuelo’s wife’s family.  Chief Panuelo is our Peace Corps liaison at the Pohnpei Department of Education.  As we have mentioned before, planning is not big here.  Chief mentioned this party several weeks ago, then we did not hear any more until last night at 6:15 p.m. when he called to say he would pick us up at 7.  Despite the short notice, we are glad we attended.  There was ceremony (paying respect to tribal “royalty”), tons of food (including four whole roasted pigs), gifts for everyone (the tradition was that you had to dance up to the gift-giver to accept your gift), and lots of friendship and Christmas cheer.

The host family--Mom, Dad, six sons and two daughters

There were four of these guys!

Four or five guys took off their shirts and grabbed the machetes to carve up the pork.

This little guy couldn't wait.

Dancing for your gift

All in all, being away from family and friends at Christmas is a bummer, but the people of Pohnpei, with their kindness and friendship, have certainly made it easier.

Stop and Go

What follows is a picture essay of a day trip we took this past weekend.  The wife of one our Peace Corps Response colleagues landed on Pohnpei for the holidays.  Since she is not a Peace Corps volunteer, she could rent a car.  And, with a car, we had the luxury of touring the entire island at our leisure, stopping and starting where we wished and exploring areas we had not yet had the opportunity to see. 

Our first stop was Liduduhniap Falls.  It is relatively close to Kolonia Town, but is located up an isolated road that ventures relatively far into the island’s mountainous interior.  It was of particular interest to us because another Peace Corps Response Volunteer, working with the Tourist Bureau, had won and administered a grant to improve accessibility to the falls.  Completed just a few months ago, the grant financed the construction of a new path to the falls and a new nahs (shelter) at its base.  We were impressed.

Along the road to the falls:

At the falls:

From the falls we headed clockwise around the island, with the ocean on our left and the mountains to our right.  Lin and I have taken this route many times, visiting all the schools around the island.  It was fun, however, to show the island to a new visitor.

On the left, coastline:

Much of the island is surrounded by mangrove swamp.

On the right, mountains:

We ate lunch at what remains of the Pacific Agricultural and Technical School, a vocational school run by the Jesuits from the 1960s to the mid-1990s.  Unfortunately, the school was closed not long after its chief advocate and fund-raiser died.  Some of the campus continues to be used for programs such as Peace Corps' training of new recruits, but most of it is abandoned.  Our colleague John actually taught here for several months when he was a Peace Corps volunteer in 1970.  Sad to see such an imposing complex deteriorate.  There are many such examples around the island—not sure why.

The main classroom building at PATS

The chapel

As suggested by the pictures, the route around the island is a relatively good two-lane blacktop road with numerous small one-laners leading short distances to the coast or into the interior.  These rarely go more than a mile or two before running into the ocean or up against  inaccessible high elevations.  Unfortunately, the shoulders of all roads end up being the final resting place for numerous cars, driven until they pull over and die.  By our standards, many of the homes suggest pretty severe poverty.  That said, the climate is so warm and the communities so family-based, the need for the warm secure structures we are used to is far less pronounced.

Lots of churches:

And Lin would not let any of us forget the flowers:

Breadfruit

Better Understanding

The Peace Corps has three goals, one of which is:

To help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.

So, what “better understanding” do I have about Pohnpei and the people who inhabit this island?  The previous 24 blog posts from Lin and I have provided lots of details in answer to that question.  Below are some random thoughts gleaned from eight months of working and living on Pohnpei.

Time  From day one I heard about “island time” or “Pohnpeian time.”  So, we were warned.  But it is hard to over-emphasize the difference.  In my professional life I was driven by the clock and the calendar.  Meetings took place at a certain hour.  School calendars were set in stone a year in advance.  We now have calendar apps, and while in the states, my i-phone will tell me where I am supposed to be and when.  Here, not so much.  Attendees wander in to meetings when the spirit moves, meetings are set, cancelled, reset, or ignored, seemingly without consequence.  Time is simply more fluid.  While there are clocks, they hold less sway.  There are calendars, but scheduled events may or may not take place.  Even the seasons demonstrate less emphasis on time.  At home, the seasons change regularly, demonstrating the march of time.  Here, there is no discernible change in the weather—it’s constant summer, with little change in daylight or temperature from month to month.

So, it’s different.  After eight months, I have probably changed more than those I attempt to influence.  No point in being frustrated or taking missed meeting or late arrivals personally.  Interestingly, people within the school system will acknowledge the inefficiency engendered by a casual attitude toward time and speculate that it is one of the things holding them back. But, the desire to change—to give date and time more importance—has not reached critical mass.

Accountability  One of the workshops I did with Department of Education Leadership stressed the conditions required for the system to hold its people accountable.  Specifically:  Expectations must be clear; employees must perceive that these expectations are reasonable; and employees must anticipate that positive consequences will follow performance and negative consequences will follow poor performance.  Seems pretty clear cut, but conditions on this small island complicate these assumptions.  With few exceptions, people come from large extended families with multiple relationships.  Everyone really is related to everyone else.  Reinforcing this is a strong traditional leadership system within which people are required to respect their clan relationships and elders.  In short, principals and other leaders often find it difficult to hold people accountable when those they supervise may be family members or may hold titles that make it difficult to challenge poor performance.  Whatever the reasons, accountability as we interpret it is another condition for improved schools that has yet to firmly take hold.

Sense of Community  At home, you read (or experience) the fact that people are becoming more isolated, less socially connected.  From Robert Putnam’s “Bowling Alone,” to more recent commentary (such as David Brook’s recent essay in which he suggested that instead of going over to the neighbor’s house, we are more likely to spend our time surfing everybody else’s lives on Facebook), the fear is that we are losing face-to-face social engagement.  Not so here—especially in the more rural areas of Pohnpei.  The teacher and principal workshops we conduct as Peace Corps volunteers around the island are not limited to staff development.  Rather they are social events where teachers and community members provide a meal in appreciation for our involvement in their lives.  As another example, these afternoon workshops often have us on the road for home between 5:00 and 6:00 p.m.  It seems that every little village en route has all of its inhabitants out along the road at this time, talking and walking with each other, playing volleyball, drinking sakau, or just gathering in the shade.  This, too, may change, given young people’s growing addiction to electronic devices.  But for now, the sense of community is strong.  Fun to see and experience.

Change is haphazard  One of my colleagues in our Peace Corps Response program was a Peace Corps volunteer on Pohnpei from 1969-71.  He marvels at the change.  Where there are now roads, there were just paths; where now cars are everywhere, 45 years ago he can remember only three vehicles on the island.  Where now most of the structures are made of concrete, in his time such buildings did not exist.  Where now Pohnpei has a state and national government modeled after the U.S., before traditional leadership held much more sway.  In short, change has come much more rapidly here than what we experienced in the States—from primitive to modern in a very much shorter period of time.  There are consequences associated with this rapid change.  For example, infrastructure is much more tenuous.  While there are services such as electricity and public water in Kolonia, they often fail because there is neither the expertise nor parts and equipment to maintain the systems.  There are too many cars, too few roads, and too little maintenance.  And, while there is cable TV in Kolonia, there is no system to bill customers other than to hand-deliver invoices to various locations.  In short, change has taken place much more rapidly here, but often the context within which it has happened has not been ready to accept or deal with it.

Social norms  Here, it is acceptable to raise pigs and chickens in your side yard—even in Kolonia.  It is acceptable to chew betel nut and spit the red juice out your car window.  Clothes are optional on little kids.  It is OK to load up you pick-up truck with a dozen people in the back or for your two-year old to hang out the car window.  Formal dress is a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops.  Takes some getting used to.  On the other hand, eye contact, a warm smile, and a friendly greeting are the norm—even among strangers, young and old.  The other night we were stuck in the airport without our promised ride at 1:00 a.m.  No less than four people asked us if we were all right and whether we needed a ride.  When we walk back from the market loaded down with groceries, often complete strangers will stop and ask if we could use a ride.  The fact that we just returned from a week in New York City, where eye contact is avoided and “stranger danger” is taught in schools, the difference is pronounced. When we exclaim our appreciation, folks here just shrug their shoulders and say, “It’s the Pohnpeian way.”  It seems we have much to learn from each other.

Impact of  “free” money  I am used to a money economy where goods and services are valued in terms of the time and effort required to produce them, or in terms of the value they add; where, for example, public schools are financed by state and local taxes and held accountable by the citizens paying for them.  Here, it is a much different system with significant ramifications.  As noted in previous blog posts, nearly all of the money to run public services on Pohnpei comes from U.S. aid, which has been ongoing since before the Federal States of Micronesia (FSM) became independent in the 1980s.  Schools provide an interesting case study.  While there have been modest attempts to hold schools accountable within this system, they have proven ineffective.  And, while there is never enough money, what is provided comes with few strings attached and with little oversight.  The result—too many poor decisions made by people who have not been held accountable by the people they serve.  And, since the typical parent or student is not paying for their education, they seem less inclined to question its effectiveness.  If able, they simply vote with their feet and enroll their children in private schools, whose financial support depends on satisfying their customers.  In short, there is probably a lesson in all this related to the impact of “free” money.

At this point, Lin would tell me to lighten up.  So, I will end this post with a “little piggy” drama that unfolded up the street from us.  For a minute the little guy got away, but not for long.