Trash for Treasure

     It's been raining since about seven-thirty this morning. That sums up what it has been like every day since the end of November. I can remember only one day that it didn't rain since then. Mostly it's just on and off hard rain, but sometimes it lasts for hours, going from hard to light and back again. Something strange that I've noticed, though, is that almost every night at eleven it rains so hard I almost can't hear myself think. It's mesmerizing, really. The combination of pounding rain, strong winds – whipping my drying (yeah right) clothes hanging outside my door, – and darkness. The only way I see it all is because of the large lamp across the driveway at the Pastor's house. With it I can see the wind driving the rain in sheets across the lit up puddles – or lake. Much of the time the driveway becomes one continuous puddle that the rain drops jump from. Like I said, it's mesmerizing.

     The second quarter has ended now. My mind wasn't able to settle down fully until yesterday. It ended on the fourteenth. Then the school Christmas program was on Monday, and I was the director of our little skit. So, I'm no longer worrying about something (for now), and I can sit down and collect the thoughts of my past four weeks since writing.

     On the thirtieth of last month I received four packages all at once. The mail hadn't been checked the week before, and I know that at least two of them had arrived then. Two from home, one from Amy, and the regular bi-weekly pack from WWU. In the two packs from home I received a good amount of candy. It was making up for the Halloween that I missed, from what I was told. Now don't get me wrong, I do like candy. But so much left to one person, well, I'd get carried away, eating it far too quickly. I decided on a more fun and … helpful way to use it up.

     Each week I put up a new Bible verse for the kids to memorize. On Friday, if they recite it to me from memory, they get a piece of candy (gum usually). I could use my candy instead of buying some at the store. So, on the Friday after receiving those boxes I told the kids, at eleven-thirty with thirty minutes until the bus was to arrive, that I have some candy from home for them if they recite the verse. Then I told the kids that if they find me ten pieces of trash, at least baseball sized, they will get a piece of candy.

     Now you must understand something. Before about the 1950s the island was still eating mostly local food, probably supplemented somewhat by rice. Whatever they were eating they could simply toss by the wayside. Their bowls were mostly made from coconuts, and most of them were still eating with their fingers. After WWII the US started helping them in different ways, trying to help them recover from the Japanese occupation. This resulted in packaged goods finding their way over here. Unfortunately, because trash was never an issue since it was always biodegradable, they kept tossing their trash wherever they opened it. You can probably guess what I'm getting at: there is quite a bit of visible trash. When the kids are done eating their ramen bowls for lunch, they usually toss them into the bushes, sometimes not even that far. They do have community dumps now, thankfully, but most of the kids haven't been taught that littering is bad.

     Now that you have some background information, their was plenty of trash around the school, church, and local house. Like I said, we stopped thirty minutes early, and I figured that most of the kids would do it only once. (Eleven kids times ten pieces of trash equals 110; I can live with that.) Boy, was I wrong. One kid had unintentionally grabbed six extra. I told him that if he grabbed four more that he would get two pieces of candy. Then as that kid was getting two candies another would walk up with just ten pieces of trash and say, “What? We can get more?” They didn't realize that they could keep doing it, one candy for each ten pieces of trash. I think Larry, alone, ended up getting a total of at least fifteen pieces of candy. Larry just kept going. He would come back with ten and see someone getting two at once. Then he would cash in and go back, motivated – by jealousy, envy, or a competitive nature, I would guess – to get more. His last batch was exactly 70. He was aiming for 80 to get all eight pieces of Stride gum left in the pack. I took out one and then gave him the pack. We must of filled three 44 gal. trash cans!

     The older grades saw this candy giving with mouths agape. I told them, “Get me ten pieces of trash this big (insert baseball sized hand motion) and you'll get one.” They hopped to. Marvin got 50 and then went back and grabbed 62 before collecting eleven pieces of candy. I also made them put the trash in the cans and wash their hands before reaching into the bag of candy. It was such a great thing to witness, really, the power of candy and the kids really wanting to pick up trash. Some were searching hard, digging around in bushes away from the beaten path. Around the local house and the grass in between it and the church were the worst places. They looked so great afterwards. The grass had honestly looked like an overgrown, unburned trash pile. Now, you can't see any trash in the grass. I could tell much of the trash that they were getting was months, even years old. Old sandals, ramen bowls, plastic spoons and cups, and many other things. I willingly gave up almost all of my candy. Like I said, it was great to witness an eagerness, or rush to get more trash, even if it was motivated by candy.

     After recalling this interesting happening to a couple different people I saw a different side to it: an amazing spiritual analogy. Jesus came to take our burdens from us. Among the normal burdens that we bear – distress about grades, enough money, that job, or the latest thing that girl/guy (that you like) said to you – sin is the heaviest. Yes, it is broad, but there it is, looking us right in the eyes everyday.

“²⁸Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. ²⁹Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. ³⁰For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” Matthew 11:28-30.

     Not only is He asking us to give up our burdens, but He is saying that he will give us rest in return. He will give us peace for our… trash. Now if that isn't the best, and most honest sales pitch I've ever heard, I don't know what is. A song from my Pathfinder days finds its way into my mind, as well. “I'm trading my sorrows, I'm trading my shame, I'm laying them down for the joy of the Lord...”

     Let's remember to deal with the best Trader and get us some candy.

Considering My Thank-Yous

      So, I fully intended to write this Thursday (Thanksgiving) and instead wrote it last Saturday. I even started on it but other things got in the way. No such things as excuses, right, just poor planning? I embrace that sound logic and it is definitely true in this instance. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving … two days ago, or whenever this happens under your eyes.

I made a peanut butter cream-type filling.

      I was planning all week to make soup for Thursday night. I was actually planning on making a large pot and taking it to one of my local families. Sadly, they were all busy and doing things other places. It didn't really bother me, except that I really wanted to cook for some people.

      While making the soup for myself I was reviewing the things I should and am thankful for. You see, I had busied my mind all day with mindless things. I'm thankful for the normal/usual things: family, close friends, God, and Amy. Locally, the opportunity I have and am within and the kind people it brings. Stepping back to the end of the last paragraph, I was reminded of the person who instilled such a desire: to cook for people; to really like it and even so far as to desire to cook for many people. A desire that's quenched by seeing the joy the people get from eating the food prepared. As taught, I know that joy can be revealed in many, different, and subtle ways.

Just get creative.

      This person, a crazy-strange Hawaiian-Asian, who is shorter than I yet commands a greater presence quite easily. A man who has been known to cause fear in adults and reverence in children (not by physical means, mind you) – that's who I have to thank for the love of cooking, the craving to cook for people. Four years ago I couldn't sauté onions, crack an egg with one hand, cut watermelon safely, or fathom being able to make pizza sauce from scratch. At least three of those may seem rather easy, but nor could I comprehend making a well-received curry, finding it easy to cook for ninety alone, being a head cook, or being apart of the management team for my childhood retreat, Big Lake Youth Camp. Considering all of this, and that he is counted among the great friends that I mentioned earlier, I am specifically thankful for John Rivera in this moment.

This isn't normal, but it's welcomed.

      I suppose I haven't mentioned anything of my class, yet. I also must be thankful for them. Twelve kids in all, five 3^rd and seven 4^th graders; only a quarter of the class is girls. If they've taught me anything thus far, it's patience and creativity for coming up with different angles of attack – not in the physical sense, of course, but the... intangible: the way in which I teach them things. It's probably against some law to mention their names here, so know that they are all different and good in their own way and (a lot of the time) at their own leisure. From eight-thirty in the morning until three they are mine. Bible, Math, English, Science, (Lunch), Social Studies, Spelling, Reading, and PE. Math and English are the most hassle because they have different books for each grade. Science and Social are the hardest for me to get them to retain.

One of my kids tree-climbing.

      One thing that caused me much stress was getting here late. It couldn't be prevented from happening, but that doesn't lessen its effect in any way. I arrived here half way through first quarter and you can imagine the complications that caused in teaching kids that were already adjusted to a teacher for the year. Not only that, but the teacher had a completely different teaching style than I. Of course, not as if I had a teaching style, seeing that I'd never taught before. As clichéd as the analogy is, I really had to train old dogs new tricks. I'm still battling with their old habits, but they are learning. As time goes on, I add new rules that I come up with myself or have pulled from The Essential 55 by Ron Clark (brilliant teacher). My creativity was really activated after reading that book.

They really like to collect them.

      One of the things that struck me as silly, or foreign, was the fact that they rarely had homework. When I say rarely, I mean once every two weeks – maybe. I've broken that for the most part, but I still get an exclaimed we! (kind of like “whey” but less on the “ay” and more on the “eh”) every now and then. According to their dictionary it is an “exclamation of repentance or surprise.” So, basically whenever they don't like something I hear it. This just causes me to laugh sinisterly under my breath. Cruel, right? Another humorous thing I hear frequently, used as a form of complaining about assigned work, “We're tired!” “Well, I guess you should've slept more last night.” It's a hard life, right? Honestly, all I can do is smile (=]). My hope is that they will be better kids when they finish in May, both scholastically and in dealing with life's different circumstances. By the time that is achieved, I'm sure the kids will have taught me, or ingrained in me, many important lessons. For that, I'll be forever thankful.

Kosraen (said “Koshryan”)

     It’s almost completely pointless doing my laundry. Today, Thursday, is my laundry day for no particular reason. I washed my two white t-shirts, my four other t-shirts, a couple pairs of shorts, my school pants, about four pairs of boxers, and my towel after getting back from the Track and Field games in Tofol at three. That short list is most of the clothes that I brought with me. The weight of my check bag didn’t allow me more. Thankfully, I have become very strategic about how and when I wear certain clothes. About an hour later I pulled out the clothes and hung them up to start the -- sometimes-- long drying process. It’s a very green way to do it.
     Not long after that I went and played some basketball with some of the guys. I put on a still damp shirt and pair of gym shorts and played three games. My good friend Jerrod would be proud of me for finally giving in and liking it. I even pulled off a miraculous three-pointer (of which are becoming more common). I already sweat plenty back in the states, but here it’s almost like a leaking hose. So, my shirt damp with clean water and a more fresh smell quickly became much more damp with sweat and a similarly suiting smell. To top it off, it takes me a whole lot longer to cool down after exercising (whatever form that may come in). Even after a shower, which normally does the trick, I will keep sweating if I don’t get the fan on right away. Exercising in the middle of the day in any form is about the worst idea someone could have here. Even the locals, such as the Track and Field athletes, get up at four in the morning to do their practices.

This is where I do my usual swim.

     Speaking of that, I’ve finally made jogging a part of my morning routine. I get up thirty-five minutes earlier to do an ocean-front jog. I learned from one of the locals, Pa Cooper, that it’s best to soak in the ocean after exercising. I soak for about ten minutes afterwards, now. It cuts my cool-down time from thirty to ten minutes and it’s a convenient way to partially clean my sweat-soaked clothes, as well. Each morning I get to see some good ocean life by doing this. One morning, five baby swordfish, another two sea snakes, another I let hermit crabs traverse the creases in my palm, and the list will only grow. If anything, it’s a really great excuse to experience nature before the day starts; a little bit of God’s beauty in nature.

It's quite fun; you should try it sometime.

     After basketball I did just what I do in the morning to cool off, and took a dip in the ocean. It was dark by then, at 6:30, and I walked into the water seeing a small flash of green not too far from me. I thought it might be someone under water looking at a watch, but then it was  pulsing and appearing in different places much too quickly for it to be human. After getting a closer look I discovered that it was a bunch of jelly fish floating past! Part of their bodies were pulsating with an AWEsome neon green color. Off, then they would float a couple more feet and then on. Awesome might be not as good of a describing word because of its over-use, so maybe magnificent. Whatever word, though, it was a great amount of it. I can only hope to get a picture sometime.

Hm, Kosraen tangerine.

     The local food is really great. I say local so as not to necessarily include my own cooking. At the races today I had some fresh pickled es (papaya). It was really spicy but sweet at the same time. They pickle it all sorts of ways. Pa Cooper’s wife just soaks hers in kool-aid and sells it for 50 cents per Ziploc bag. Mos (breadfruit) is usually boiled or baked in the uhm (ground oven), is kind of dry, and has just a slight sweetness to it. There are something like twenty different kinds of usr (said “oosh” and meaning banana). Apple bananas are the sweetest, monkey bananas are very much like the bananas I could get at home but with green peel, then other kinds that have a purple flesh and you have to boil otherwise they are too hard to eat, and so many more. They use all parts of the coconut. The old tree trunks are used for building, the leaves for making baskets and brooms, the husks and shells for firewood, and of course the milk and flesh for food. They use fresh squeezed coconut oil to sweeten a lot of their foods. Both taro (I’m pretty sure it’s not the kind used for tea) and tapioca are like potatoes and have to be dug up. Then they grind them up, mix them with banana and/or coconut oil, wrap in banana leaf, and bake in the uhm. I should say that you have to get used to the taste of the things baked like this. The outer layer, of course, taste like the leaf and fire. It’s just the same as getting used to camp stew or fired corn on the cob, though.  

I'm about twenty feet up.

     Sapanese Muh (Japanese Orange is what they call tangerines for some reason, which I say because we have kinds here unique to only this island) are so delicious and in plenty. I pick the ones that are just under ripe so that they are pretty tart. My younger brother Taylor would understand this choice. I’ve always been one to enjoy climbing trees, ever since I was young and Taylor and I would climb with wonder up the skinny limb of a local oak. My first approach to climbing the tangerine trees was a cautious one. Then I see Pa Cooper monkeying up the tree, skirting across tiny limbs, and bending them down until he can get onto his roof. Later he told me that they used to use the wood of the trees for baseball bats. Ha! I’m definitely going out on a limb each time I get tangerines now. They use the baby ones for seasoning. They are very strong, like lime juice, so they use them to flavor anything from water to sasimi. 

Sasimi with tangerine juice to dip.

     Ah, now sasimi is very tasty. It is basically Kosraen (said “Koshryan”) sushi (one of my good friends would be quite jealous). They cut little fish into small pieces or cut chunks off of big fish and let them marinate in a mixture of baby tangerine juice, onion, and chili (which they also grow). They will use whatever they have. Sometimes the island runs out of things, and the island only gets shipments every two weeks. They are all very good at making do. I really like that about this place, and am learning to make do and be creative myself.
     The next thing I would mention is my class and all that entails, but I really don’t like making people wait for me. I’ll try to update every time I get interwebs, and that’s when I’ll have to fill in more details of that as well as others. If you didn't get the memo, my address is


Travis Sandidge
c/o Kosrae SDA School
PO Box 94
Tofol, Kosrae 96944 FSM


and don't be afraid to use it.