(Almost) 28 Days Later...the highlights tape

As I looked through my last blog entry, I realized that, while I personally had an awesome time being all literary and pretentious, those several hundred words or so conveyed little to nothing of the actual reality of my situation here in the Federated States of Micronesia. Thus today, I seek to remedy this error in presenting:

Sept. 4-28....Highlights Tape
...in which I propose to revisit all of the last-second buzzer beaters, miraculous Hail Mary passes, and hat tricks of my Peace Corps existence (metaphorically speaking).

It's 7 a.m. on Sunday #1 in Micronesia, and I'm proud/excited to put my best foot forward for church. After looking carefully through my extensive (haha) wardrobe, I decide to wear my one and only dress. (Or "The Habit," as I so fondly call it.) As I step out of the room and into the kitchen, my older sister, Sinoreen, looks at me at curiously.

"Do you have a skirt?," she asks.
"Yes," I answer, perplexed.
"Go put it on."
I silently return her quizzical expression.
"Only old women wear dresses to church," she explains.

I come back out in a button-down and skirt. She gives me a different skirt. Still not satisfied with my outfit, she asks if she can see my clothes and choose my outfit for me. She selects one of my t-shirts and hands it to me. I silently sigh...nice one, Megan...and hope that maybe someday I will be able to dress myself for church.

The following Sunday, my friend Tori's host dad invites me to join them for a trip to Nan Madol, these ancient ruins located in Temwen (an area about 25 minutes drive away for us). As when I first started at Duke, it's exciting and strange to be riding in a vehicle again--I'm moving so fast--and it's not every day you get to ride in a vehicle with a bobblehead chihuhua on the dash. It's beautifully clear and sunny, one of those idyllic days that just makes you thrilled to be alive.
On our way out, we drive over a long causeway with ocean off to either side, brilliant turquoise as far as the eye can see. We then wend our way through thick foresty terrain until we get to the path to Nan Madol. As we begin to walk, the forest is so thick in some places that it nearly blocks out all of the sunlight above. Then we will suddenly come to a clearing with a bridge through a mangrove swamp/ocean type area. The bridge promises adventure in several senses: 1) Nan Madol ahead! 2) The Survivor-style challenge/IQ test of crossing a bridge composed solely of two logs and (sometimes hole-ridden) plywood. Luckily, we managed our river crossings okay (even without caulking the wagon and floating it across).
Then, as we rounded a corner in the path, across the way appears Nan Madol. I can't really fathom how to describe it other than obscenely cool ruins. These stones have stood forever, and they structure is incredibly well-preserved. It has to be about fifty feet long (at least--this is English major guesstimation after all) and fifteen feet tall. As you walk in, you feel like you're walking into a temple. It's no wonder the Micronesians consider this place sacred.
After walking around inside, the structure strikes me as amazingly large from the outside. It's kind of the anti-put-mirrors-in-your-dining-room-to-make-it-seem-huge; rather, Nan Madol feels intimate on the inside and looks like a fortress from the exterior. We eat lunch outside, overlooking the ocean and soaking in the rays.
As I look out at the sea, I note, not 800 yards away from me, the Idyllic Island. This is literally the sort of island that postcard photographers have wet dreams about. Turquoise water laps up on a perfect white sand beach. As you get further from the shore, the water melts into this deep jewel-blue tone. A large stand of stately palms cover the island, swaying gently in the breeze. It's at moments like this that I feel like the luckiest girl on earth.

Well, I'm being paged to meet my new host family, so I've got to leave you here. If you'd like to write me, my new address here on Kosrae is:

Megan McCrea, PCV
Peace Corps/Kosrae
P.O. Box 98
Tofol, Kosrae FSM 96944

Take care.