Remochulok—On the Brink of Extinction

I believe the gradual degradation of our culture, tradition, and core values will eventually cause the collapse of the closed-knitted relationships and bonds that distinguish us as a unique people—Remochulok.

What we are witnessing in our society today, many of which are negative in nature and most are not conducive to our principles and lifestyles, are the by-products of this form of government called democracy; chosen for us by our “Founding Fathers” in the Congress of Micronesia and later ratified by our parents and by some of us that were of age during that time in the plebiscite that advocated our rights for self-determination and the notion that we would be free of the bondage of colonialism.

Defined and existed as a government by the people, exercised either directly or through elected representatives, democracy in itself, while seemingly proven ideal for the United States and other democratic nations, stands in direct opposition or contrast to our Mochulokese customs and traditions. Ironically, our national, states, and municipal constitutions, in writing, declare that tradition can and will be recognized as one of the deciding entity in the interpretation of the laws and ordinances of the lands. The clash of these two forms of governance, I believe, created many social and cultural fall-outs that left many of the government and traditional leaders paralyzed and incapable to find a common ground on which to enforce the laws of the lands as they’d used to do in the past.

For instance, one of the unique identifiers of the Mochulokese custom is the “anomw, anei, anei anom” concept. Interpreted loosely, it means, your food is my food and mine is yours. Sounds familiar? In the past, in our custom, there is no such thing as “mine” as everything is owned by the collective group –the lineage, the clan, the village, or the island. When the men went on a fishing quest, the catch was always to be partake by the whole community and the traditional protocol dictates that it should go to the elder of the clan or the traditional chief to distribute it evenly among every member of the group. Even if one family did not have any of its member go on the fishing trip, they still get their fare share like everybody else. Socialism? You bet! Did it work then? Of course. Can it run parallel to these democratic and capitalistic principles and still benefits the people? Maybe not. We really must adopt one and let go of the other in order to survive as the proud and the resilient Remochulok.

Oneop Dock Dedication and Celebration 1981

The following videos were filmed during the dedication and celebration of the Oneop Dock in 1981. In attendance were many of our distinguished leaders and officials from both the FSM National and Chuuk State governments. They include the first president of the federation His Excellency the late President Tosiwo Nakayama, the first governor of Chuuk State the late Honorable Governor Erhart Aten, Speaker of the FSM Congress the Honorable Bethwel Henry, the late Honorable Congressman Ray Setik, their wives plus a host of other equally distinguished guests and officials from our two governments.

We dedicate these videos to the memories of our loved ones who had passed on with the hope that we the living will continue to cherish and honor those memories.


The gentleman leading this group's song was the late Honorable Delegate and traditional chief Mr. Oseter Pweitei


The song leaders of this group were the late Iokichy Alter, the late Nachuo Moses and the ever fun-loving and comedienne the late Kika "Kalepus Inisi Kechiwen Anchang" Oii.

“Mwa Maita Na Auwa Eu Chok Me Kot, Eu Chok Me Kot!”

The title was a quotation by a famous reWanikar of Oneop Island. It was blurted out in a sudden fit of anger and disbelief at what every Oneopese took for granted—that when it rains after a drought, it is only because God decided that it is time.

Here is the story:

It was a very humid Sunday morning and people’s hopes were very high. It was overcast and the cumulonimbus clouds coming over Kurum were heavy and very promising. Everybody wished that it would rain today because the drought was taking too long and people were tired and thirsty and angry. Tempers flared and fights and arguments were frequent. The rain would bring relief, renewal and reconciliation.

Our protagonist was angry. He had been for quite some time. His taro plants had shriveled up and died. His water tank gave up its last drop long ago and he was forced to boil and drink the foul and brackish well water. He was fuming and he had a huge chip on his shoulder.

On this particular Sunday morning, he decided to sleep in. He decided that he would stop going to church because God was either absent or He just didn’t want to listen to the pleas of his soulengs anymore, especially the finalisis. So, when everybody was getting ready to go to church that Sunday morning, the protagonist was pulling his blanket over his head trying to go back to sleep. “Maan kasemwel,” he muttered as his family left for church.

He must have dozed off and slept for hours because he was awaken by the sound of people talking, laughing and celebrating. Church was out and it was raining! From under his blanket, he could hear his wife talking with her finalisi friends, praising God for his loving kindness and for heeding their prayers that He had sent the rain.

Hearing those praises from those poor women sent him ballistic! He flung his blanket off, grabbed his six-D-sized-battery flashlight which was near his bed, threw it against the wall with all his might and yelled, “Mwa maita na auwa eu chok me Kot, eu chok me Kot!!!!”

His flashlight shattered into a million pieces.

Cough, Please.

Just the other day, I took my son to the Clinic to have some stitches removed from his injured wrist. As we were waiting for the doctor, I told him that he should come back soon to have a complete physical. "What is a complete physical?" he asked. I told him that it is a medical process during which the nurse will examine his whole body and report to the doctor if there is something wrong and the doctor will decide if it needs fixing.

"Does the nurse check your hair for ukus?" he asked. I said yes. "Does she check your teeth?" he already assumed the nurse is a she. I nodded.

"What about your eyes and ears?" he wanted to know. "Those, too." I told him. "I bet she will want to check inside my pants, too." he wagered. "Well, I think they need to check there just to make sure everything is there." I tried hard not to smile.

"I'm not coming back!" he exclaimed. I tried not to look at him, "What?" I asked. "And why not?"

He was serious. "My friend told me that when he went for a checkup, the nurse asked him to drop his pants," he said, "then she grabbed his nuts, squeezed them hard and asked him to cough." I cracked up. "Well, did he cough?" I laughed. "No, he was not sick but he almost pissed on her hand." We both laughed and the doctor asked what was so funny as he entered the room. We laughed even harder.