Friday, Jan. 11, 2013
To my Peace Corps/Pohnpei Acquaintances,
Should I have the chance to share this letter with you later on, I’m addressing a generic audience. A couple of weeks ago I got an invitation from Jack Gillmar to accompany him and his wife Janet on a trip to Pohnpei in May of this year. There was a question of money, which we were able to work out, and then I began to think more broadly about making the trip.
Physically, it’s taxing at this age (and will be moreso the older I get) to sit in an airplane for many hours. Flying to Europe a couple of years ago brought this fact home to me. There is also, of course, the increased risk of picking up some god-awful contagious bug in such close quarters. I’m still OK making medium-length trips and so would not rule out flying to visit Jack and Janet in Hawaii or flying to Vienna, where I also have a mooching opportunity with a college friend.
As for Pohnpei after what? 2013-1971= 42 years? I know that a lot has happened. The Federated States of Micronesia (FSM) now has its headquarters there. There has been much infrastructure development, there is more money in the economy, and I assume the children and youth are more attuned to the wired life that has become so widespread in the States. I can view many Pohnpei-centered sites on the web and even see an aerial view of my old place in Saladak, in Uh municipality. I have read books and articles by people who have been to Pohnpei during my long absence from the island. So the question is this: what extra dimension would I touch by going there now?
Well, I would see a lot of rain again—that’s almost a slam dunk. And I would, I hope, smell the irresistible aroma of breadfruit baking in a stone oven. I would not drink sakau or probably any local water, not because it would kill me but because I’d just as lief not go through another round of testing for round worm and the pills, etc. I know I would see some familiar faces. Largo Edwin and Loren Petersen are still in Kolonia. I might make it back to Wene or Saladak, where there would be people who could figure out who I was and vice versa. We would shake hands and possibly hug. Would I take gifts? Would I want to join them for a meal? Baked pwik and fried kehp slices would be very very tempting. But it would naturally cause expense on their part because men pohnpei cannot hold back on hospitality, and I would need to bring gifts for them as well.
I would see many things that I cannot imagine, some of which would cheer me and others not. I would probably get fired up to rekindle my interest in the island culture—this is something that happens almost automatically whenever I travel. (In 2006 I actually purchased a Swedish language translation of a long a complex book by a Harvard linguist—The Blank Slate—when I was in Stockholm, magically thinking that I would take the time to wade through it when I got back to the States.) That’s a lot of miles to go to do something that I already know would fizzle within a matter of weeks after my return.
Several friends have been back: Jane Hurd, Ken Whiting, Philip & Lynn Ritter, and others whose names I can’t bring to mind. They all had interesting stories, and all were stricken by the degree of change. I would not be going back to the world I knew there. The fact is that I spent 3 years of my life there, for which I am eternally grateful. But I doubt going back for a week of traipsing around to a few waterfalls (which are probably no longer free for the viewing—after all, I would now be a tourist and not a volunteer)—I doubt if that would really add much to the gifts that I brought back those many years ago. This is a hard decision, but I am grateful that it was put to me because I would otherwise not have been obliged to work out the details of how I felt about making such a trip.
That is the story. I may have additions and corrections, but this is the document I will attach to my email to Jack and Janet. I hope they will let me visit them after they have made the trip. I know I can drink the water at their place.
Regards,
~ John Brewer
[post trip notes]