Tidal Wave Day

Last Wednesday was a regular day at St. Cecilia School. The only part of the day that would have been out of the ordinary was my plan to leave work after lunch in order to make it to the bank downtown with Jessie to take out money for the JVs. I had made it to my 5th period English class with the seventh graders just before lunch when Kaspar, our principal, gets on the megaphone outside, leading all of my students to abruptly disregard my teaching and run to the windows to look survey the scene. Kaspar announces that he has just received urgent information about a tidal wave headed to Chuuk, scheduled to hit the lagoon at 2 pm. It was then 12:30. The police officers had been riding around the road in order to announce this with megaphones from the back of their truck. We were to dismiss and evacuate the campus. No students were allowed to walk down to the road, which is on lower ground and right next to the ocean, until their parents arrived to get them.

Immediately after the completion of the principal’s announcement, the school erupted into panic. I quickly ran next door to talk to Sr. Sophie in 6th grade to confirm what I had heard. Lachlan, who was teaching on the other side of my room, and I tried our best to control and calm our 7th graders. I tried to relay the message of the expected protocol, and ask them to calmly pack up their bags, but was acknowledged by very few of the frantic kids. It was clear that I actually had very little control over what was now happening in the classroom. Students began running in all directions, yelling, “We’re gonna die!”

I myself was at first completely skeptical. A tidal wave? Really? I thought we were protected from tidal waves by the reef. My apartment can’t be more than 200 yards from the ocean, will it survive? If a tidal wave hits, will the bank still be open?

I sat down on the concrete in front of the office and watched the students dart in every which way. Nai Nai, one of my 1st grade friends, was jumping up and down yelling, “Upwe no tukken, upwe no tukken!” (I will swim!) I spoke with our principal who was sitting on a bench outside the office, and asked what he knew. He seemed nervous and helpless but confident in conveying the announcement he had heard himself. A big concern was the ability of the government to disseminate the information quickly enough. We only have one phone at St. Cecilia so most kids weren’t able to call home, plus many families don’t have phones in their houses. Soon enough though, parents began to come for their kids, walking up the hill to be greeted by squinting and then sprinting sons and daughters who were anxious to get home.

As school started to clear out, teachers began to head home as well. Carlos, a 5th grade teacher and father of 2 of my students, offered to drive me downtown with his kids. I jumped at the chance, grateful to get out of the chaos and hopeful to still make it to the bank, potentially avoiding a lethal tidal wave as well. Carlos, Berson, Brilliant and I pile in Carlos’ low to the ground car, which bottoms out on the deeper pot holes in the road. I feel relief as we drive until the car comes to a gradual stop on the causeway. I am unsure of what is happening. Carlos turns the key in the ignition, nothing. Again he turns it, nothing. “No gas,” he tells me in English. Carlos quickly hops out of the car and onto a passing truck in order to get to the nearest gas station about 15 minutes away. I offer to stay in the car with the kids until he comes back.

It takes a minute for my thoughts to catch up to me. It is 1:15. I am stranded on the causeway, a very narrow human-made road surrounded by water on both sides; and a tidal wave is coming in my direction. This is where my own panic sets in. My nerves overcome my own skepticism and worry takes over. I guess if a tidal wave takes out this 12 square mile island, I won’t need to go to the bank anyway. I give up on the bank and become concerned with my own survival. What if Carlos doesn’t get back in time? Berson and Brilliant get restless. I try and talk to them but they speak an outer island language, not the Chuukese I am learning, so we can barely communicate. I think about leaving them there and hopping on a truck to make it home in time, but I wont leave these kids here. I get out of the car and start pacing. I see trucks pass with kids on the back heading away from school. I wonder what is happening at Saramen, where I live and where Jessie and Matt teach. Have they evacuated? Are they scared?

What if I die here? Is this seriously happening?

I recognize faces of drivers and children as they crawl past in their cars going 10 mph, the fastest you can drive with the conditions of the road. I look up to see the Saramen school truck. It’s the Saramen principal, Wayne, coming to get his kids from St. Cecilia. He greets me as he drives with a confused smile, wondering what I am doing on the side of the road with random children, but I speak first. “What’s happening at Saramen?” He says, “We sent the kids home, you know it’s just a drill, right?”

A drill. It’s just a drill. “Hey Wayne, does that mean the bank is still open?” He laughs as he nods and drives away. How could the state of Chuuk have a natural disaster drill without informing teachers and administrators? How did no one know? I start to calm down. I convince myself I was never that worried in the first place. Berson, Brilliant and I watch for Carlos on the backs of oncoming trucks. He arrives holding one gallon of gas in a plastic water container. We fill the tank and continue our journey home.

I make it home just before 2. If it hadn’t been a drill I would have only narrowly made it to the safety of my apartment. I walk in bursting to tell the story of my afternoon and am greeted by JV’s, peace corps volunteers, and JOCV volunteers all celebrating the afternoon off. Jessie springs up when I come in and we run to the bank, talking excitedly as we go. We withdraw our cash, feeling relieved that we will be able to eat a nice dinner and pay for our weekend trip to another island. We decide to commemorate tidal wave day with ice cream cones from the store, not unlike hot chocolate on a snow day.

pictures at school

laundromat

Going to the laundromat on my island is always a time that i re-evaluate how much i have incorporated Chuukese culture into my own life, and which aspects of Chuuk i have not chosen to hold on to. Being in a laundromat in it of itself is not exactly abiding by traditional ways islanders wash their clothes. Normally the women would hand wash with rain water, but here on our more modern island with ocasional electricity all the women congregate at the laundromat.

For the most part, only women do the laundry in a family. I join them about once a week in the afternoon after work. I always enjoy the feeling of female community there. I know the women recognise me and sense that im not a tourist from my Chuukese skirts. On a crowded day, I enter and sit on the bench waiting to be called on. This is a part of my laundry routine that reflects how i have adapted. In general in Chuuk i feel very taken care of by the larger community. There is less of a social requirement to be self sufficient, and I find myself relying on others more. In my experience here, if you are hungry someone will offer you food, if you are tired you will be offered a place to rest, and if you are sick someone will accompany you. In the laundromat, i dont need to worry about any sort of line or order or claiming a machine. The women just notice me when i come in and offer me a machine when one is free. If it is a very long line and the wait goes past sunset, I know i can count on an offer to be driven home so i dont have to walk after dark.

Doing laundry offers the opportunity to talk to the women around me, and to practice my Chuukese. We chat about our common experience on the island, the lack of electricity, the road, the rain, my job as a teacher. Sometimes I find myself in long conversations, regularaly I meet a relative of a student. Other days I am so tired from my work day that i just lay down on the bench and take a nap- public napping: also very Chuukese.

With a visit to the laundromat always comes a consideration of Chuukese gender roles. It always intrigues me to go with one of the male volunteers. The only time Chuukese men enter is to carry the huge bins of clothes out to the truck, or to bring in an entire extended family's pile of laundry to their female relative who may be there all day. Since it is the woman's role to clean the clothes, I often feel when i sit next to Matt or another American male that the women look at me and think, "Why aren't you doing your brother's laundry?" Or maybe they are happy to see a male doing their own laundry. I dont think I will ever adjust so much as to believe that I should be doing the male JV's laundry.

My wait at the laundromat always provides time to process, in the presence of my Chuukese neighbors. When my clothes are clean I bring them home wet to hang on the clothes line in our apartment. They always take a long time to dry in the humidity, reminding me again of my unique position in the world.

new picture site

I just linked the Peace Corps picture site to this blog, if anyone is interested in looking at more pictures from Chuuk. It's titled Suzi's pictures. Suzi, Rachel and Michael are the peace corps volunteers here in Chuuk that arrived shortly after Jessie and I. We have all become good friends and our communities support one another very much. Suzi, Rachel and Michael work on outer islands of Chuuk, but also spend a lot of time on Weno. You can find me in some of these pictures.

making payroll

We are two weeks into the beginning of the school year here in Chuuk. St. Cecilia is doing well. The school has a new coat of paint that the faculty and other volunteers worked to apply during planning sessions and Saturdays. It’s a small change but really makes a big difference. This year I am teaching 7th and 8th grade English, I am also the homeroom teacher for one 8th grade section. I am in the classroom 5 periods a day and am running the school library as well. Other changes are the two new volunteers working with me at the school, Lachlan, an Australian volunteer, and Suzi, a Peace Corps volunteer. They are both only temporary, they won’t be with us for the full year, but the opportunity to collaborate is great. It has been helpful to brainstorm with these two and problem solve for our many classroom challenges.

This week we had a staff meeting with the business manager of the school to discuss the financial situation of St. Cecilia. Chuuk has been affected by the economic slowdown, higher food and gas prices, as well. The school is down from last years’ enrollment of 350 to 260 students this year. Tuition is $35 a month, which can be a lot for most families. Also, there are still many outstanding tuition payments from previous years that the school has yet to receive.

The repercussions of this will affect the staff payroll directly. I sat with my co-workers as they were all told that the school will not be able to pay them their full salaries this semester. In years previous the faculty went without pay for many months as well. The school is working on tuition collection but they are already predicting a lot of financial hardship for the year. We made it through last year with grants from Australian aid banks, but that won’t be sustainable for the school.

It was strange to hear this news having been in Chuuk and with this faculty for over one year. Looking around I could feel that all of the teachers were thinking about the families they are supporting on their salary. I know these teachers well now and I know their families. I can imagine the kind of hardship they will face without getting paid. I felt out of place in that room with the financial security I have- if the school cant pay my stipend JVI will, so I don’t ever need to worry about it. But for the rest of the Chuukese teachers that is not so.

There are many ways in which we as a staff are optimistic for this school year. We are a dedicated group. I know some of the teachers will stick it out without pay for the betterment of their students. We will see if finances improve as the year continues.

request for school supplies

In case anyone reading was interested in helping out St. Cecilia faculty and students, I have compiled a list of school supplies that could be put to use at the school. These supplies are either not available on our island or are pretty expensive if you can find them:

-white chalk
-chalkboard erasers
-markers
-colored pencils
-crayons
-pencil sharpeners
-pencil erasers
-folders
-construction paper
-scotch tape
-masking tape
-duct tape
-blue painters tape
-index cards
-white glue
-teachers' grade books
-teachers' lesson plan books


These are all items that i could easily distribute to other teachers and students. We are not in need of other items such as notebooks, pens, or pencils- the students are able to supply themselves with these. We are also not in need of any reading books, St. Cecilia recieved multiple donations of these last year.

These supplies can be sent to my address:
JVI
Saramen Chuuk Academy
PO Box 662
Chuuk, FM 96942
Federated States of Micronesia

Thank you so much to everyone for your continued support. My co-workers, students, and I will be very grateful for any small amount that you are able to send.

peace,
Caitlin

A History of St. Cecilia

As I am now back in Chuuk and preparing for a new school year at St. Cecilia, I thought this post might be applicable. This entry comes primarily from a long conversation I had in May of 2008 with Sr. Fostina, a Chuukese nun, alumna, and once principal of St. Cecilia School. This entry has also been informed by many other “mwichen mercedes,” graduates of St. Cecilia, who I have met throughout the past year in Micronesia. The following is a short history of St. Cecilia School, in Tunnuk village, on Weno island, where I am a teacher.

St. Cecilia School was founded in 1946 as an all girls diocesan school. The bishop of the Caroline Islands, which includes Chuuk, invited the MMB order of sisters to operate the school. The Mercedarian Missionaries of Berriz originated in the Basque region of Spain, Sr. Fostina, and the sisters who I work with at St. Cecilia today are members of this order. In order to understand St. Cecilia, I think it is important to understand the MMB sisters who are above all else committed to social justice and the liberation of women around the world. Through my conversations with them, and my experiences alongside them, I find the sisters to be incredibly down to earth, progressive, and dedicated women. The MMBs do not wear habits, they live simply in their home, get wet in the back of the truck on the way to work when it rains, and are the most capable and reliable teachers at St. Cecilia.

When St. Cecilia was founded, the school boarded the 5th through 8th grade girls, and was open for kindergarten through 8th grade. There was no tuition collected, as the school survived on funds from the diocese; food was provided by the sisters for the students. Sr. Fostina was a member of the first graduating class of St. Cecilia. She graduated in 1952 with a class of 9 girls.

In 1960 the Mercedarians open the school for boys as well. Tuition began to be collected at $1 a month. By this time the school had earned the reputation as the best school in Micronesia. Students came from other states in the F.S.M. and other Micronesian islands to attend the school. Sr. Fostina described the physical space as “spic and span.” Consistently among all of the alumni who I speak to, they describe the strict policies of the nuns. Alumni also include that the discipline they received, especially with regard to speaking English in order to better learn the language, has been something they deeply value as they have grown older.

In the ‘60s the school grew to include the second building of two floors, which is now the main building of the school. The dorms were moved from the now first and second grade classrooms to the 2nd floor of the main building. Today’s 8th grade classroom was once the dining hall and kitchen of the boarders. What is now an area for picnic tables outside the office, were classrooms at this time.

Euka, an alumna who I worked with this summer, described St. Cecilia as a, “perfect school for traditional Chuukese girls,” because it incorporated Chuukese culture with a valuable education. The school taught mostly in English, giving the students a good opportunity for secondary and higher education, but also functioned within cultural norms. Euka graduated from the school in the 1970’s.

In the 1980’s Sister Fostina returned to the school having joined the religious order that had educated her at St. Cecilia. As an MMB sister, she worked as the principal of the school for 4 years. During her time as principal Jesuit Volunteers were working and living at the school. Their residence was what the school office is now. I do not know the exact dates for JV’s work at St. Cecilia. I know they lived at the school for some time, but discontinued at St. Cecilia in the 1990’s until 2007 when I began working at the school.

During the 1990’s the Bishop and one Jesuit priest working in Micronesia, decided to build Saramen Chuuk Academy on Weno. This addition would make Saramen the 3rd Catholic school on the island, along with St. Cecilia, and Xavier High School; St. Cecilia and Saramen Chuuk being the two diocesan school and Xavier being operated by the Jesuits. In order to build S.C.A. the clergy opted to utilize St. Cecilia’s resources as start up funds. As the building for S.C.A. was being constructed, the first S.C.A. classes were held at St. Cecilia in the former dining hall and kitchen area. This year ended the period in which students were able to board at the school, as they no longer had eating facilities. The following year S.C.A moved out to another building in Nepukos village for one year until it began operation on its contemporary campus.

At the time of S.C.A’s startup, Sr. Fostina accounted for $90,000 in St. Cecilia’s bank accounts, the results of tuition collection and fundraising by the sisters. This money was used by the Bishop to pay for the building costs for the Saramen Chuuk campus. Apparently the bishop’s decision created controversy within the diocese and among the MMB sisters who believed the money should be used for St. Cecilia. The MMB sister acting as principal disagreed with the Bishop’s use of the money so strongly that she decided to step down from her role as principal of the school.

Following the MMB’s administration at St. Cecilia a female Chuukese woman from the outer islands named Dolores was appointed as principal and worked in that capacity for six years. After Dolores’ administration at St. Cecilia in 1995 or ‘96, Mariano, the founding principal of Saramen Chuuk, came to St. Cecilia and became principal. Mariano is a Chuukese man who holds a masters degree in education from the University of San Francisco in the U.S.

Mariano was the principal of St.Cecilia School for 11 years, including my first semester teaching there. Early in Mariano’s time as principal, Jesuit Volunteers left the school. During his administration the school was taking money from income tax and social security out of the teachers’ paychecks. The school began accruing debt.

When I entered the school as a teacher in the fall of 2007, St. Cecilia was in $30,000 of debt. The building had fallen into disrepair. Windows go uncovered, chalkboard paint peels off as you write, and holes accumulate in the floorboards. In December of 2007, after discussions with the school board, Mariano stepped down as principal. The vice principal, Kaspar worked as acting principal for the remainder of the school year.

The school faces very different obstacles today that it once did. St. Cecilia no longer is considered the best elementary school in Micronesia. It has the lowest passing rate of all Micronesian Catholic elementary schools into Xavier High School. Sr. Sisca, a St. Cecilia alumna and now MMB sister and teacher at the school tells me about how difficult it is for her to see St. Cecilia today after graduating from there in the 1980’s. She tells me this one story of her and Sr. Fostina visiting the school in the 1990’s during the beginning of its decline. It was the first time she had seen the school in many years and she and Sr. Fostina were brought to tears at the sight of it, noting how carelessly it had been taken care of.

Though St. Cecilia struggles today, there are many people working at the school attempting to bring the level of education back up. The Mercedarian sisters and the St. Cecilia alumni play an integral role in supporting the school. We are beginning the 2008-2009 school year with a new administration…and much hope.