Poco Marina, Church, Folklore

On Friday I found myself going for a walk and looking for a place to grab a late lunch. I wanted to find a place close to a hotel in hopes of getting the opportunity to talk to people. I ended up at this open-air café/bar called Poco Marina with a decent view of the lagoon. It had a very relaxing feeling – probably from the contemporary adult acoustic rock.


At first it was just me and a few of the workers so I decided to start conversation with them. After a few minutes of small talk I ended up telling them I am part Mwoakillese and that my family grew up around PICS – a local high school. The waitress ended up being a distant cousin of mine. She (Angie) was so surprised and kept saying “what a small world”. It was great to get to talk to her and her husband - who was classmates with my dad - and we made plans to meet up for church on Sunday. At first I wasn’t extremely keen on going to church, but I figured I probably didn’t have anything better to do and it was an opportunity to meet family.

I got what I wished for at Poco Marina: people! I talked to an old rugby fanatic from New Zealand. I asked what brought him to Pohnpei and he replied, “Life works in weird ways”. It was easy for me to imagine him here because of Pohnpei’s proximity to New Zealand, but the next two guys are from a place probably equally as far as Michigan – Croatia. CROATIA?! I talked to them a little bit about European football, Croatia, and Pohnpei. I found that they spend about 6 months here on a fishing boat and 6 months back home. Their manager is Croatian and recruited them. I thought it was really weird to find two Croatians working on a Pohnpeian-owned fishing ship.

I really shouldn’t find it that surprising. Pohnpei is an island steeped in foreign “discovery” and foreign rule. It is really impossible to discover a place ("discover" in the Western sense) that is already inhabited by thousands, but the first European to see Pohnpei was a Spaniard named Alvaro de Saavedra in 1529 en route to Mexico aboard his ship Florida. However, credit for “discovery” is awarded to Pedro Fernandez de Quiros sailing for Spain although he was Portuguese. He was sailing from Santa Cruz to Manila in 1595. Whalers from the U.S. and Europe were mainstays in the mid 1800’s – including an Irishman who charmed his way out of death by dancing an Irish jig. He was later given traditional tattoos and is known as the “The Tattooed Irishman”. The island has seen Spanish, German, Japanese, and United States flags raised in the name of occupation. So it really should come as no surprise for me to meet Croatians on an island that has been the home for people from New England to Japan.

After they left I talked with a college kid from Austin, TX. He went to USC. That should have been enough for me to ignore him (Rose Bowl losses…ugh), but he ended up being a really cool kid. He is here to help lead a character training workshop – pretty much summer camp. We are going to plan to circumnavigate the island via the road that goes all the way around.

I also talked with an expatriate lawyer – scratch that. I listened to a windy expatriate lawyer. I’m not sure if there is anything more frustrating than holding a conversation with someone who doesn’t allow you to talk. It is almost passively dogmatic. Anyway, he gave answers to the few questions I could through in including a denotative and connotative explanation of an expatriate. He was almost so adamant about the fact that there is no negative connotation to the word “expatriate” that I seriously began to question him on this point. Anyways…when we were talking about Pohnpei he used the word primitive (not to describe it now, but not so long ago) and so I decided to fall out of conversation with him. I really didn’t see a point in explaining how I hate that word and that he was an idiot because it was difficult enough to squeeze in a question. The only good thing about this guy was he told me where to find the head of the National Olympic Committee here.

Instead I started talking to a local couple. They were pretty drunk and I really thought they were trying to turn a trick on me. Her husband kept saying “I like when you talk to my wife. I am just going to listen.” And they kept dropping subtle hints about how casual their marriage was. I eventually caught on and backed out of that conversation as well. When they asked if I wanted to go play pool at a bar with them I declined. It really started to hit me that this man was trying to pimp his wife to me when the owner was watching them talk to me (one on each side) and asked me in a concerned tone if I was going with them. She seemed relieved when I said no.

They finally left and I chatted with the Attorney General of FSM, a Mwoakillese woman named Marcella who was classmates with my family. She was extremely nice and kept feeding me drinks (“give another drink to that beautiful Mwoakillese boy over there”. I wasn’t sure if she was hitting on me or just being friendly to a fellow Mwoakillese). Anyways, she promised to fly me and my Grandma to Mwoakilloa. This was an alcohol-induced promise, so I am not going to get my hopes up. I’ll ask her anyways. I really need to go there!

I went with my Kosraean friend Moses to a local bar where I met a bunch of his friends. They were all extremely friendly and most of them had recently graduated from the University of Hawai’i or the University of the South Pacific. We went to Club Flamingo and danced for the rest of the night.

Saturday was uneventful. I watched some softball and relaxed. I haven’t drank munch since leaving for Hawai’i, so I had a decent hangover. I was useless to say the least.

As I said, I wasn’t doing kart-wheels over going to church, but it ended up being very pleasant. Most people from Mwoakilloa are Protestant through missionary works. Actually, the first missionary on Mwoakilloa wasn’t exactly welcomed. In fact, they tied him to rocks and dumped him in the ocean. When they returned they found he had clung to the hull of the canoe. This time they tied his hands up too and he sunk to the bottom of the ocean, but because of this, Mwoakillese believe they are cursed. Some people go out fishing and don’t return and this credited to the curse. This is the story according to my grandma and I get the feeling that it is more of folklore than an actual belief.

Anyways, church was very pleasant. I met a lot of family and Angie and her family was really nice. After church we went out for lunch and I had the most delicious "Pohnpei Pepper Tuna Steak". After that I went up to Sokehs to meet my cousin Fletcher. We sat and talked and he gave me the impression that Mwoakillese are proud that they aren’t as traditional in their ways/beliefs as other Pohnpeians or Outer Islanders. He pointed out that Mwoakillese were the first to learn how to build Western boats and they were the first to erase the Nahnmwarki (King) system. I asked him about some Mwoakillese folklore and he dismissed it as simple myth and said he didn’t really believe it. But then I got just the opposite impression when he talked about traditional war songs and dances – in particular he talked about an old war dance (sounding similar to Brazilian capoeira) that is in jeopardy of being erased because it is no longer taught. It was really hard to get a read on his take on tradition. He told me about a Japanese man who studied Mwoakilloa and its myths and stories and I am going to try to find him so I can learn more. That is after a significant reason I am no this journey – to learn about my culture and heritage.

In the Pacific (maybe more than anywhere else) oral histories were, until a little over 100 years ago, the only histories. It wasn’t until missionary work and foreign occupation that language and stories began to be recorded. I think it is important for these stories to live on in order for a culture to survive. I think the best aspect of Pohnpei is the fact that it doesn’t rely on modernity and technology. What I mean is, while wireless internet and phone lines are available, they are almost apathetic towards it – it isn’t a necessity. It is a refreshing change from American society. But Fletcher’s (and others’) attitudes towards myths and folklore worries me. I hope the attitude might just be one they display to me because I am American and they might think I will see it as silly. But I don’t – it is important and something I think is important because of its uniqueness.

Hopefully I can learn a lot from a meeting with the man who studied these stories and I am also looking forward to meeting with National Olympic Committee. Menlau for reading. I look forward to your comments. Justin

(Pictures - Sorry for only 3, but it literally takes about 15 minutes to load the three. Also, the LCD on my camera is broken making it hard to see how a picture turns out until I load them to my computer. I will make an effort to put more pictures up in future posts...

1. Poco Marina Cafe; 2. View from Ocean View Hotel/Restaurant; 3. View of road in Sokehs from Fletcher's porch)