Pecos, the skipjack tuna pictured below, has been my main course for the past month.
Apologies for the delay -- here’s a bit of an update:
Last September I moved into a two bedroom apartment on the beach. When it is high tide, I pitch fastballs made of eggplant ends or banana peels into water. I go swimming nearly every day now. Since my surfboard sleeps in the other bedroom, I have this apartment to myself, as well as the entire ocean and beach -- nobody on the sand, no boats in the sea, no airplanes in the sky. The last time I saw an airplane was more than a month ago. I felt like shooting a flare overhead. Isolation, like most things, is only good in moderation.
A typical day at work lasts from 8am - 1:15pm and there is no traffic going to or from my job, though my commute is still about an hour each way. Several cars slow down every morning and afternoon to offer me rides, which I accept when it’s raining. My reason for walking is twofold: it is my exercise, and it provides a good place and time to think. Since most people on the island drive like they are in an emergency, as if The Chart House is about to give their reservation to someone else, it doesn't seem like a harsh rejection when I wave them off. But believe me, their rush is almost always exaggerated -- time is never of the essence here. 10 could mean 10:30 or 11, but it most definitely does not mean 10.
And despite the abundance of beachfront locations available, no, there is no Chart House in Micronesia.
My classroom is not air conditioned, it is open-air. And since it is always humid outside, it is always humid inside. Betel nut juice is spattered on the walls. Betel nut is as popular among young students as chewing tobacco was among your high school baseball team. Betel nut stains everything red, most notably teeth…just before it erodes them entirely. Metal grates are substituted for windows, and there is a rat that frequently scurries between my room and the one next door. Half of one of my four walls does not meet the ground, allowing Mr. Rat to travel at liberty throughout my lectures on the infamous quadratic equation. Imagine your workplace in this condition...
Coming from Los Angeles, one will notice there is an unfamiliar absence of smog here at all times. And although I have heard, and repeated myself many times, that the smog is what creates such beautiful colors in most of our sunsets in LA, I have found that such sunset-benefits should be expunged from the long list of smog “pros.” The sky here reminds me of the Sistine Chapel: nothing could make it better…not even smog.
My current diet consists of eggs, eggplant, okra, bananas, chile peppers, beer, tuna, beans, peanut butter sandwiches, and nuts. There is no sliced bread here, so I have learned to make my own. And without any measuring tools, whatever I pull from the oven always has some curious, negligible flaw. A week ago I forgot that I had some bread in the oven. Two hours later, I came back inside, rushing nervously to the oven, only to find that it had turned itself off. The dial was still turned to Roman numeral II (which is my self-made temperature mark for “anything”) but the oven was cold and dark. The bread crust was brown. Smart oven.
A few months ago, some worms decided to occupy my stomach. Round worms I was told. But said worms were no match for the doctor's orders: some chewable tablets along with beer. The doctor said that inebriated worms would provide easier targets for the tablets. Note taken, problem solved.
There is no such thing as fast food here, though the locals often cook up the equivalent: Spam and Turkey Tail.
Turkey tail is what it sounds like: the tail of a turkey. This tail consists of pure fat, but unlike foie gras (which, despite its price tag, is still gross), turkey tail comes to your table deep fried and wrapped in foil. I tried it once, but the chewiness of greasy bird bottom was just too much for a former Health Promotion Disease Prevention major. I have also eaten a Red Snapper’s eyeball here in Micronesia. This optical meal was hasty preparation for the SLP (see the October blogs). The eye provided a unique texture combo I would describe as “gunchy” -- both crunchy and gooey. Gunchy food is as appetizing as it sounds.
Anyways, I have been on this island now for seven months. I don’t miss LA, La Verne, or California though. (I slightly miss Vegas). What I really miss is having dinner with my family, grabbing a drink with friends, and eating a burrito with guacamole. Seven consecutive months is a long time to be away from everyone you care about. It will make it all the better when I see you all again though…which is soon!
Cheers,
Tyler
Current Best Deal on the Island (not applicable to me, but worth noting): Childbirth (Uninsured), $24
Currently Reading: “The Geography of Bliss” - Eric Weiner
Currently Listening to: 2Pac, Brand New, Garth Brooks
“To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.” - Yann Martel
