Going Blue in Chuuk

Having lived in Micronesia for the past year and a half, experiencing the U.S. elections has proved to be quite a contrast to what it would have been like had I been living at home. Following the news always requires creativity. We are always behind. Chuuk does not get any television stations, so I have never heard Obama or Biden’s voice. It took months to discover that Palin pronounces her name Pay-lin, not Pah-lin. Occasionally we receive news magazines and get to reading them at least a month after they have been published. Usually I get my information relayed through other volunteers who devote precious internet time to news websites. Conversations among the volunteers often address politics and social issues, however, we’re so far removed from the U.S. and so invested in the occurrences on our small island that often our efforts to stay on top of the news seem laughable.

In October I found myself on a reef island no bigger than the White House itself. Lounging in the turquoise water, separated by miles of water from land that has electricity or any means of accessing the rest of the world, my roommates discuss Obama and McCain. We check with each other if we have received our absentee ballots yet, and plan to visit the post office soon. We are in the most isolated place I have ever been in the world, yet we long to be connected, informed.

In November, we contact friends and family to route a mode of communication in order to get the Election Day news as fast as possible. Fifteen hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time, I awaited the election results a full day after the election. From our calculations we expected that the message would get to Chuuk by about 3pm on November 5th. Jessie and Matt kept the phone lines open in case we got a call, and conserved laptop battery so we could check online even if there was no electricity.

We plan that Jessie will call me at work as soon as they find out who won. But by 2:50pm I am at work at St. Cecilia, about to go into my next class and so anxious that I call home just in case they’ve gotten the news. I use the only phone line we have at St. Cecilia and call our apartment. It’s Jessie, she’s yelling and laughing and thrilled with our country’s decision. I deliver my own excitement back, screeching into the phone. I walk outside the office bursting to share the news when I am hit with the realization that I am in a place with no other Americans. No one else will share my interest or enthusiasm. A very lonely and alienated feeling crept into my conscience as I realized just how far away I was from my home on a day America made history.

Still, I excitedly explained to my co-teachers sitting on the rickety benches outside the office that my country had elected a new leader. Some had heard of Obama, some had not. For the next hours to come all I focused on was the commute home and meeting my fellow volunteers to revel in the news. I am greeted at Saramen by Chuukese high school students shaking my hand and offering congratulations. Jessie and Matt had evidently been keeping their students informed of the day’s progress as well. Jessie has hung a huge white sheet from the second floor balcony that read, “President Obama Waiioooo,” a Chuukese exclamation. In our apartment, Peace Corps volunteers and JVs poured in, as an impromptu celebration began. We know that we are far away, but we are aware that something exceptional has occurred.

That evening, after we had gotten the election news, we did not have electricity on Weno. Yet 15 or so Americas sat in our apartment by lantern-light sharing new expectations and hope. We gathered together, sitting on the floor to listen to our friend Alex read Obama’s acceptance speech aloud, which we had used much of our dial-up internet time to download. As our fellow volunteer read Obama’s words, we listened, gripped with utmost attentiveness. We sang and danced for the rest of the night.

Having witnessed an election year from abroad I have been afforded a very different perspective on the American presidency. Through spending significant time outside my home country I have observed how much the U.S. affects the international community through its decisions. The privilege of voting in this election further drives my belief in the necessity of understanding the world outside of America. On election night in Chuuk many of us wished we could be back home celebrating on American pavement. But I was grateful to watch the world from here.