Reasons Why COFA Employees in Hawaii Quit Their Jobs Easily

My boss at work asked me to give some reasons why I think COFA employees quit their jobs easily without any second thought. And here are my observations:
· Most Micronesians are non-confrontational by nature. When faced with an issue (i.e. wages, vacation and sick leaves, other benefits issues) that makes them angry or dis-satisfied, instead of confronting their bosses about it, they would just quit – walk away from the job without giving any advanced notice about their intention. Here is an example: "Uwa wes me non ei tenengin angang! Esap eu moni mine ekkei noku repwe kan turunufosei ren," said my friend Sinisio Sarafin.
o This problem is exacerbated by their inability to voice their concern because of their lack of English communication skills. In other words, it is frustrating to have an issue that you cannot address because you “cannot talk”.
· Family comes first. For the Micronesians, the family comes before everything else. When there is an emergency in the family like in the case of death, the employee will want to just drop everything and go. The employee will first try to ask, beg and reason with the boss why it is pertinent that she had to go on an extended leave and be with her family at such a time. So, if her request is denied, she might just decide to quit right away – never mind if she had worked for the company for many years.
· In some cases, when the employee is aware that she is a victim of harassment or discrimination, either by her employer or other co-workers, to avoid confrontation, she would just quit her job. Part of her avoiding confrontation may be that she does not have any idea where to go or who to see or talk to in these types of circumstances. In addition, her culture prevents her from talking about such circumstances because she will not want her family, relatives and islanders know about it.
· A long-time employee may quit her job when a newly-hired employee is an adversary or someone whom she just cannot stand to be around.
· An employee will quit her job if she finds out that her brother or a close male cousin or relative is also working for the same company especially in the same department or unit. This is a cultural thing.
· Most Micronesians don’t like to work on Sundays. This is a religious issue that has become a cultural norm. Everybody back in their country goes to church on Sunday. Other than just going to church, Sunday is also the day to visit other family members or do family functions and outings. So, the employee will try his best to avoid working on Sunday and when pressed to come in to work every Sunday, that employee may just decide to quit.
· Another reason why Micronesians quit their jobs is their lack of work ethics. Many of the Micronesians that come to the US have never worked for a wage before back in their country. Many of them lack the basic educational backgrounds needed to work and retain their employment. Most of them were hired to do menial jobs that pay them minimum wage with no rooms for advancement. They will come to work when they feel like it and usually call in sick when they had other things to do. And they will quit without informing their employer about their intentions.
· Another reason why the Micronesian quit his job without any hesitation or worry about the consequences is due to their culture of looking out for each other. This close-knit family relationship or cohesiveness ensure that a family member is taken care of, not go hungry, and is provided a temporary or even permanent shelter in their homes. As far as homelessness is concerned, only a small percentage of Micronesians are deemed homeless because they are camping out in the parks, on the sidewalks or in their vehicles. However, many more are sheltered-homeless-meaning they are transients. They move from one relative’s home to another where they are provided a place to sleep, to shower, and to eat.
· Another reason for the Micronesian to quit his job easily is due to the notion that he is only here in the US temporarily. Therefore, he has no definite plan to remain here, establish a permanent life here, or secure a permanent job with retirement and disability benefits that he will need when he is aged and disabled. He is always thinking of staying here for only a while and then go back “home”.
· Many of the young Micronesians become substance abusers and alcoholics and many quit their jobs because of these habits.
· Micronesians are nomadic by nature. For many, the lure of the “mainland” is hard to resist. They heard that the rent is cheap, the wages are higher, the social programs are abundant so they will just work to safe up for their fare to Seattle, Oregon, Las Vegas, Arkansas or Corsicana and they will book their flights as soon as they have the money for their tickets and then just leave.
o This is interesting because many come back to Hawaii after realizing that life in the mainland is totally different from the island life they grew up in or the life they had in Hawaii which is very similar. For many, transportation is a problem – there is no transit system in the US mainland that will rival The Bus here in Hawaii. For the majority, they miss the social gatherings and get-togethers that they always enjoyed here in Hawaii on almost a weekly basis. There in the mainland, people get together only once in a long while.
· There may be many more reasons why Micronesians quit their jobs very easily but these are the only ones I could think of at this moment. However, if you, the reader, have some other reasons or ideas that would shed some light on this problem, please post it here so we could add to our findings and try to come up with some solutions.


These are my own observations and they are not based on any actual data, survey or report. Some of you may agree, and some of you may not. However, I am hoping that, if we care about changing the attitudes of our people here in the United States, sharing of valuable information that will contribute to better outcomes should never be a problem at all.

Killisou chapur.

Kapong Mi Fit Pwos

Upwele mwo pwal eanei ewe sokkun mak chowe ate riaffou rekan eani. Ewe rekan panguratiw are pangurata won palian en nu mi sosotiw lepwel pwe epwe pwal mecheres an io me io repwe kan sokuru o pwal weweiti pwe ir mine ewe chon riaffou me siongaw a kan mak faniter.

Kapong fiti tong chapur epwe wesewesen ngeni io mi kan sakuru ach kei tatan mesen mak won ei weblog. Esap fanitan met nge a wesewesen chok fanitan ach posituk pwe en chon fanuach nge a fansoun langetam ach sise chiwen werifengeni kich.
Ekiekum me ekiekin fanuach iei mi penges fan mwaremwarei. Esap much tori mala.

Choi Seng

The title, to the Oneopese, literally means "those who will cry".  It is one of those phrase with profound meaning that is uttered by our elders who still has keen minds and retained their profound intellect but who could no longer physically restraint the youths from misbehaving or doing mischievous deeds, so all they could do was threw their hands up in the air and said, "Choi (chon) seng".

The Guam Buildup

While it will create a tremendous boom to the economy in Guam and help the fledgling economies of the neighboring Compact of Freely Associated States by creating thousands of jobs and contributing to the local businesses, it worries me just to think about the "other" consequences and the impact that the military buildup on Guam will create in the region. Since the closing of the US base in Okinawa, there has been so much mobilization and activity in this area that it seems to me like we are being readied and groomed to be used again as we'd been used over and over again in the past by our so-called "friends."
I am worried that this commotion (I wanted to say saber-rattling but that is too harsh a word) is used to shift attentions away from somewhere and direct it to us. Congresswoman Bordallo, in her quest to secure major appropriations that will go directly to her district (GUAM), doesn't seem to mind that that the gears on some enemies' ICBMs are turning and Guam is showing up between its crosshairs. I wouldn't be worried except the fact that if worse comes to worst and if an incoming projectile misses Guam by a mere fraction of an inch, the FSM and maybe the Marshalls will be at the receiving end, regardless whether they are a part of the conflict or not. History will be repeating itself only this time, it will be on a much grander scale.
Am I a pessimistic "cry wolf"? You betcha! I would rather be a live pessimist than a dead optimist.

A Letter to My Son

My dearest I.S. Ruben,

Son, tonight, like most nights before you go to bed, you gently opened my door and said, “Good night, Dad. I love you, Dad. Sleep well, Dad.” And tonight, like most nights, I acknowledged you with a mumble, “Hmm, hmm, hmm.” I was so busy reading through other people’s comments and posts on Facebook and caring about their feelings and such that I didn’t even turn around to look at you as you were wishing me a good night sleep. “Oh, and by the way, I had to run home from the park because there was lightning and I was scared,” you added. My usual response was, “Hmmm.” Several hours later, as the house quieted down and as I lay in bed trying to sleep, I thought about you and the way I treated you earlier. I tried to imagine how you must have felt when the only most treasured thing you can possibly give me, the assurance of your unconditional love for me, was fallen on my deaf ears. I got up and went to your room and peeked in. You were already asleep so I went back to my room and I thought some more about you and how you seem to bring sunshine into my darkest days and how you always seem to remind me that the problems and low points in my life are very small in comparison to your problems and your lows. And I thought, then how come you always manage to smile and infect other people, me included, with that killer smile of yours?  Where do you find all the strengths and power to smile and find humor and happiness even in the face of adversity? How do you manage to hide your sorrow, sadness and vulnerability? So, I sat back up and started to write down these thoughts that I have about you and the way I feel about you. I hope that you will forgive me for being such an a**hole of a father. 
It seems like only yesterday when the doctor told me that you had to come out because your mom was not healthy enough to carry you to the full 9-month term. So, you were C-sec'd out two months early. I still remember helplessly watching you through the incubator as you struggled to breath, with tubes in your face and IV needles in your veins, trying to make sense of what had just happened. I prayed constantly during those trying times. I prayed for your mom and I prayed for you. You were so fragile that I flinched every time the nurses moved you, thinking they might hurt you. I was so happy when they finally took off the tubes and IV and let me hold your tiny body for the first time. Your tiny head could fit inside the palm of my hand. As I held you and cradled you in my arms, I thank God for giving us another son. In that ward at the Chuuk Hospital, I made another promise, just like the ones I made when your older siblings were born. I promised that I will love you with all my heart, my soul and my being. You smiled and then you arched your left eyebrow--a feat non of us except your mom can duplicate--then closed your eyes and went back to sleep.
So, tonight, I reaffirm that promise:  Sometimes I may not show it but know this, son: I love you forever. 

Where Do We Go From Here?

I am making these observations as a Chuukese living on the outside looking into this enigma called, “Chuuk.” I am calling it that for I just don’t know what to call it anymore. I used to called it fondly and with pride as my home; my beloved state; where I long to be; my burial place and home of my children’s children’s children. As I peer into this process, I cannot help but recognized some remnants of what used to be a very well organized and yet adaptable society where life was simple but it supported and catered to the whims and well-being of its citizens. And I am saddened to see only the bits and pieces of that proud and peaceful existence. The once fierce and wise leaders and loyal stalwarts of the municipalities and clans that make up Chuuk are gone. However, if they are still alive, they are stripped of their prerogatives to lead their people effectively and control their realms fairly and charismatically. They, along with their wisdom and mastery of negotiations and of conflict resolutions which are key to an island environment where everyone knows everybody, were no longer accepted in this new era and were thrown out like old mats that dirty up our modern linoleum and ceramic floors. In their places are starry-eyed, ambitious young Chuukese with college degrees earned through their theses on Quantum Theories of Relativity and The Philosophy of the Metrosexual Man in Retrospect, and The Experiment: The Effect of Turkey Tails on Island People, and so on. They came and suppressed the old-age knowledge and skills honed through thousands of years of trial and error by our ancestors who knew what was best for the existence of their descendants in and on an island environment and force on the people their new-found knowledge from far away continents which really does not have anything in common with the Chuuk way of life. This changing of the Chuukese way of life to the modern Western lifestyle brings about the demise of the Chuukese identity. They said we should move forward into the 21^st century. It is the only way to go. Well, it seems that we’ve arrived there but what do we show for it? Are we better off now that we have cell phones and high speed internet; that we ride in imported automobiles and fiberglass boats with outboard motors and fly in jet planes to destinations all over the world? In order to have all these modern technologies, nano inventions, and high tech toys, we also need to have a lot of money to make sure that they are always updated and upgraded; that subscriptions are always paid on time; that we always have fuel for our boats and automobiles and, that we have thousands of dollars to purchase United airline tickets to Hawaii or the continental USA. Indeed, we cannot go back to the way we were anymore. We’ve ignored the Last of the Mohicans and there is nobody left anymore to show us how to do just that. In the Mortlocks, only a handful of men still know how to carve a canoe out of a breadfruit tree. But still, they can only now build the single or two-seater canoe. No one still has the skills and knowledge to build a sailing canoe, the majestic Maaisuuk or the sleek and sea-worthy Eachol and the likes. So, herein lies the problem. There are thousands of fiberglass boats with outboard motors owned by Chuukese families through the generous donations and distributions of what was known OIC (Only In Chuuk) as “projects” by our congressmen and legislators. These were purchased by porks that were appropriated every year to buy votes and other political favors by our congressmen and legislators. Many of these “project  boats” are now idled because of lack of money to buy fuel and parts for the motors. And since the canoe was forced out of existence by these sleek and fast fiberglass boats, there are no more alternatives to travel between the islands and to and from favorite fishing spots. The small commercial or passenger boats were also forced out of existence by these thousands of “project boats”--thanks to our distinguished starry-eyed congressmen and legislators. Yes, it's true! We have arrived! BUT, we have arrived at where we once started from. Only this time, we are 100% dependent on someone else to lead us, to show us and to sustain us. So, where do we go from here? Full speed ahead or full speed backwards? You’re a Chuukese, you decide.

The Threat of Sea-Level Rise on Oneop Island

It is a known fact that the warming of the planet has caused the polar ice caps to melt at a very rapid rate that scientists predicted that as a consequence, the sea-level rise will be increased by 1 meter within this century. Well, if  you look at those figures, 1 meter in one century doesn't seem much. But that is if you are living on a continent or at high elevations. But for us on Oneop or on and in any low-lying atolls, where the highest points of our islands are a mere few meters above sea-level, this is BIG! This threatens our very existence and should be given priority over everything else. It is up to us to be creative and try to come up with solutions that will guarantee that our islands are still there for our children and our children's children to live and survive and carry on our legacy as Mortlockese.
Here are a few ideas and suggestions on how to start addressing this threat on a grass-root level instead of waiting for the government or other entities to come and do it for us:

• Radical Landscaping and Shoreline Restructuring - the only way this can work is for every shorelines and tidelands owners to give up the strip of property from shoreline out to 15 meters in the water all around the islands. This property will be obtain by the municipal government through an easement or through an eminent domain scheme. After all, if nothing is done, there won't be any more land or people to hold the deeds to these properties. The island will be gone and everyone will be gone or, if they are fortunate, relocated to another place. At the outer perimeter of this 15 meter strip, this is where the shoreline restructuring will take place. Oneop Island tried to do a similar project in the 90's but it was poorly designed and it met many oppositions by some land and tide-land owners that it, ultimately, failed. This new project will require the cooperation of all the islanders in order for it to succeed. It is a 100-year project and it will take several generations of islanders to finish it and make it work. The people will work on this project with the understanding that their very life and existence depend on the success of this project. It is not a contract so there is no deadline to beat. People will work at their own pace but they should always keep in their minds that they are working on this in order to stay alive. They have to understand that there is no pay. This is purely volunteer work as there is no price on life. There are several methods and types of shoreline restructuring and erosion control that we can adopt for our small and fragile island. Here is a sample of one project. Yes, this is an aesthetic nightmare but it will serve its purpose. Among many, this type of wave breaker/erosion control is ideal for our islands. In fact, one of the benefits of adopting this system is that it not only provide a wave breaker but it also reverses erosion. Because of the shapes of each individual concrete element, when randomly placed, it leaves spaces, nooks and crannies that will dissipate wave force as it breaks on the structure. As the wave recedes, it will deposit sands and coral rocks that it churned up from the sea floor. This constant breaking of waves on the structure will create dynamic sand dunes or beaches beyond the concrete structure. So, that in itself is an island builder. Yes, it is a monumental task or undertaking, but as mentioned earlier, it is a 100-year project and it is doable. If the people are willing to do this project, they can raise some money to purchase the metal forms and then commit themselves to fabricate 10 to 20 elements per year. The government can then provide assistance when it sees that people are committed to this life-saving project. That's how government sometimes work. It needs to see initiatives from the community in order for it to provide support and funding.
• Mitigation and Conservation of Mangroves and Other Shoreline Plants and Vegetation - The decimation of our shoreline ecosystems, primarily the erosion-controlling plants and vegetation (chia, chokiis, net, umaaf, etc.), is one of the reason why we see the rapid disappearance of our shorelines and the acceleration of the encroachment of seawater into our taro patches, plantations and water lens. We often see stumps of coconut trees out in the water and we often wondered why someone planted coconut offshore. In fact, those coconuts were used to be on land and due to erosion of the  beachheads and sand bars, they are now standing in the water. This is a result of the disappearance of our shoreline plants and vegetation which hold the topsoil intact. The mitigation of this ecosystem is essential in the reversal of the erosion of our shorelines. The plants and vegetation also serve as the natural wave and wind breakers for our islands. If we replant or reintroduce these erosion-controlling plants and vegetation, it slowly but surely help restore our rapidly disappearing shorelines.
• Radical Agricultural Practices And Introduction of Salt-water Resistant Crops (Taro, Breadfruits, Bananas and Other Local Staples) -- If we cannot prevent the intrusion of salt-water into our plantation and water lens, it is wise to look at other options that will work well with the building of sea-walls and the replanting of erosion-controlling plants and vegetation. All Oneopese males who often go into the taro patch to plant, cultivate and care for their plants know that there are always controlled seepages of salt-water into our taro patch. In fact, the old men said that the reason why the "konomel" of Oneop is so delicious and popular is because it is "salialela chok" meaning "no need meat". The salt plays a major role in the chemistry and genetic makeup of our taro. The salt-water seepage is controlled by nature so its effects on the whole taro patch is minimal. There are some "weep-holes" from where salt-water seeps into our taro patch all year round. Sometimes the seepage is small, sometimes it is large depending on the position of our planet in relation to the sun and the moon (in other words, TIDES). In addition, the amount of standing fresh water in our taro patch also determines the extend of the salt-water damage. Some of these salt-water "weep-holes" are located at Lukun Lukunopwong, Lukun Kako and Lukun Lukula. Even if we erect a high sea-wall or elevate the land, we may not be able to elevate the taro patch. In fact, it will become lower in relation to dry land and it will be difficult to drain the intrusion of sea water from it. The salt-water seepage from the "weep-holes" will continue to accumulate until the whole taro plantation becomes a murky sea-water lake without any more taro pants. So what is the plan? Well, when all else fail, when we can no longer defeat the intrusion of salt-water into our taro patch, it is only natural that we come up with some radical agricultural practices and techniques in planting our taro. I hate to say this, but we have to start planting our crops in elevated concrete containment like the ones that some of the Yap outer islands experimented with in the 80's and 90's (We'll explore this in detail at other time). We have to work with scientists and experts on developing salt-water resistant crops. The University of Hawaii and other South Pacific institutions are already studying and experimenting on these things. We can also look into hydroponic farming such that some of our allies and friends in the global community are the leaders. We can utilize our close friendship with them and ask them to help us design and build our own hydroponic systems to use to plant our own food.
• We need to address these issues now as the threat of sea-level rise is real and looming over our head. We need to think about our future and the future of our children and their children's children. Once the island is gone, so is our identity. There will be no more "back home" so we will be nomads again.

What Goes Around Comes Around

Here in Hawaii, we (the poor Micronesians) are stigmatized as the harbinger of all the social, political and economical ills that befall this wonderful state. Yes! Blame it on the new immigrants--the Micros. They're the reason Hawaii is in the dumps. They're the reason the not-so-local Hawaiians are struggling with homelessness, drug abuses, and corruptions. They needed a scapegoat and they've found one in the stupid Micros. There is so much negative stereotypes that people here in Hawaii are projecting to the hapless and seemingly ignorant Micronesians. Even the second and third generation immigrants from other foreign countries follow suit and blame every thing on us.
Ironically, while little flak is directed towards us from the true indigenous Hawaiians, we're getting hard hits on all fronts by the  modern day bourgeois: descendants of the Portuguese cowhands, the Japanese, Okinawan and Chinese fishermen and laborers, the Ilocano plantation workers, and the tough Polynesian warriors and football players from American Samoa.
As new arrivals, we will try our best to be strong and to persevere. It is only natural that we endure the same hardship and face the same challenges that each of the ethnic minority groups went through as they tried to establish a foothold in this new community. We will run the gauntlet of ridicule and letdowns; we will go through the FOB hazing and finger-pointing; we will bear the brunt of Island 98.5 Micro-jokes and we will swallow our pride just for a while longer.
We've come a long way and, short of a mass deportation back to our country on large ships, we will remain here. The fact of the matter is, we didn't ask to be here. We were invited. Uncle Sam decided to show his might by hydogen-bombing our islands rendering them uninhabitable, used us as guinea pigs, made us pathetically depended on him, and then invited us to come to America. So, here we are! Whether you like it or not, that is your problem.

Me Lom Me Lom (Nostalgia)

I was living on my island. No worries at all.

I grew up on taro, breadfruit, coconut, noni and afuch and I was sated.

Fish was plentiful and they splashed and frolicked in my back yard - the lagoon.

There was never any need for refrigeration as everything was picked or caught only when ready to be consumed.

O, but we preserved breadfruits that became the scrumptious “maar”- the food of the gods.

I was never sick as there were never any plague, STD’s, hepatitis, cancer, diabetes or AIDS.

I didn’t have Ibuprofens and Acetaminophens, insulin and metformin or any dialysis equipments. And I didn’t need them. I found remedies all around me.

I was a star pupil even though I did not read any textbook, write any essay or learn Spanish, German, Japanese or English.

I never learned geography but I could easily name every pieces of rock and sea mounts between Mili and Tobi.

I never had any compass or navigation instruments. “Apiileng” was my chart, the stars, the winds, the waves and the drifters, my instruments.

I never learned meteorology but I could accurately forecast rains and squalls and changes in weather without the aid of any satellite image.

I never had any radio or cable TV but I could get news and information from dreams, from signs and symbols in driftwood, from sightings of unusual fish or birds, from thunders, and from the century-old oracles.

I didn’t go to any court and didn’t need any lawyer to advise and rob me blind. The traditional chiefs were the judges, the mediators, the conflict resolvers and peacemakers.

I didn’t need a belt and tie as I never needed trousers and suits. I was most comfortable in a “weiweita” and in my birthday suit.

I never relied on fossil fuels to power my boat. Instead of gasoline, my canoe ran with the wind and on harmony and sweat.

I never heard about sea-level rise due to global warming. I walked and fished the reefs during low tides and I was never aware that someday my island will be underwater as a result of someone else’s poor stewardship.

I was happy and carefree. I enjoyed life without any reservations. Nobody told me it was a sin to have everything and enjoy them, too. And nobody ever told me that all good things must, sooner or later, come to an end.

And then . . . a large boat with many white sails appeared on the horizon.

And the beginning of the end came upon the Mortlock Islands.

Suun Namukuk

Safe in a cocoon of sand and darkness;

away from the unrelenting whispers

of the blood-lust 'quitoes, in the stillness,

at Meseniang, I was lulled by the deafening sounds of the Pacific rollers.

I stared up the dark sky and marveled at Creation,

Thinking. In the overall scheme of things, I’m so insignificant.

O Universe, from eternity to eternity, what majestic domination!

Your stars, countless, are only points through a mariner’s sextant.

And O what beauty! Like diamonds on black velvet, they shimmered

And glittered and pulsated in harmony though it was in chaos.

From Dusk to Dawn, they followed in the shadow of Helios-the revered.

But Fuuesemwakut, sentinel, yearned to be with the Southern Cross.

Machemeas, in her splendor, its radiance and warmth, the night felt.

The procession, from east to west, never pau

The celestial ballet by Uul and Orion’s belt

Up at the dark canopy of Apiileng - the chart of Doctor Mau.

What Do You See?

Your perception of whether the glass of water is half-full or half-empty very much determines who you are as an individual in relation to the world around you. Experts will tell you that if all you see is a half-empty glass, then you are a pessimist and you have a tendency to view things in a negative light and as a consequence, you will fail. On the other hand, if you see a half-full glass, then you are an optimist and you have a can-do attitude that can make a great impact on your life and on the lives of those around you.

As for me, I see a  glass that contains 1/2 water and 1/2 air. Technically, that glass is full. So, what does that make me?

"Send The Foreign Aid Check to the Republic of Micronesia"

The title is a comment made by Congressman Charles Djou of Hawaii concerning the citizens of what he called the Republic of Micronesia. He made it clear that he did not want the Micronesians to come to Hawaii and use up all the social services and become burden to the state especially because they are not paying taxes to the state. In fact, he'd rather that the "Foreign Aid Check" should go to the government of the Republic of Micronesia and that they should take care of their own citizens. He also wanted to require these citizens of the Republic of Micronesia to apply and have visas whenever they enter the United States just like any of its allied countries' citizens.
Well, while his concerns may be legitimate, it is rather sad that his rather prejudice viewpoints had blinded him to the fact that there are many more Micronesians that are working and paying all sorts of taxes to the state of Hawaii. For each Micronesian that is utilizing the social services, there are at least three that came to Hawaii because of that one person and they are working and paying taxes to the state just like everybody else.
Mr. Congressman, we will be here in Hawaii and elsewhere in the United States seeking out opportunities for ourselves and for our children. We won't go away just because you don't want us here. But we will if both of our countries agree that the Compact of Free Association should be terminated or if you started a Pogrom and haul us all back to the Republic of Micronesia. Until then, Mahalo.

It's Not Only Kunol

  I remember posting somewhere that I survived a bout with Kunol or "Iokone" as they say in Lagoonese. Turned out, it was a full-blown infection that if I didn't go to the emergency room on time, I would be a goner. It started with a my small toe-nail which I stubbed on something but didn't give it much thought. On Thursday night August 12th, I started having chills and fever. Friday the 13th , it got worse and I kept wolfing down pain killers and burning my left leg with hot water to relieve the pain. The leg became red and swollen that standing and walking was almost impossible.
  Saturday was our last day at our old apartment, so I helped Believe and the other guys moved our stuff to the new home. The leg was still swollen and red so at the end of the day, I drove to the Queen's emergency room to get treatment and to ask for prescription for the problem. I thought it would be an easy in-and-out situation. I was wrong. After checking the leg and running some blood tests, the doctor advised that I be admitted to the hospital right away. He said the infection was entering my blood-stream and it started to affect some of my vital organs. I ended up staying for a whole week and they were pumping me full of anti-biotic medicine.
   After that one week, I was released from the hospital and I came and laid down in my new apartment for the very first time. I was lucky to have recovered from that infection disease. So, I thank God for giving me another chance to continue to live for His sake and for the sake of my children.

Love - Mortlockese Style #1

I am not an expert on love but I do know one thing: Mortlockese Love is the real deal. It is genuine and sincere, it defies descriptions. If you're shown love Mortlockese style, you will lose yourself in its warmth, comfort and beauty that you will always find  yourself coming back for more. Incidentally, I'm not talking about eros or your typical sexual love. I am talking about the love for your own people, your family,  your relatives, your fellow islanders, your lands and your seas. It is the love of all these things combined and more. It is also the love you extend to your neighbors, to strangers and to visitors that come to your islands. It is the love of your own rich culture and traditions and unique lifestyle. It is the love that I'm afraid we will lose through our exposure to foreign customs and influences if we're not careful.
For instance, on Oneop, as on any other island in the Mortlocks during the Japanese rule, young men were selected to go and do hard labor in the phosphate mines of Angaur, Palau. Actually, they were ordered to go. They did not have any other choice. To refuse is to defy the Imperial Empire and would end up severely punished or even executed. The selection of able-bodied men to go on such a dangerous and sometimes fatal mission was not an easy feat. The local chief was given the task by the bumon cho and the kenpei tai to pick who was to go. This difficult task always tore his heart to shreds. Who would want to send his father, uncle, cousin, brother, nephew or son to die in a far away land? No one. So, out of concern and compassion for his people, the chief decided to send only those that were related to him - his brothers, uncles, cousins, nephews and sons. At least, if something happens to any one of them, only he and his family will suffer and grieve for their loss. He just could not send anybody else. However, that wasn't always the case.
During the general assembly before deployment, the chief openly wept as he read out the names of the men he had selected to go to Angaur. As he called out each name, a young man stood and went to the front. Everybody started to sobbed and wailed and cried out his name. His mother and female family members went up to him, put coconut oil and mwaramwars on him, sobbing and begging him not to go. The next name was called and the same thing was repeated. There was sadness all around. The chief continued to read off the names on the list and after a while, the people started to realize that all those young men standing up there at the front were from the same family or clan; that of the chief's. Immediately, young men from the other clans jumped up and stood in solidarity with them, volunteering to replace some of their brothers on the list. To them, it was unthinkable and unacceptable to send all the men from the same family into harm's way. Some of them were needed to stay behind and look after their womenfolk and children.
The Mortlockese Love that becomes apparent in situation like these guarantees that people on those islands live together in peace and love and harmony. It makes sure that no family or clan is deprived of its rights to live and prosper and produce offspring that will carry on their family name into the future and beyond. It is the kind of love that makes me proud to be a Mortlockese.

What is a Mortlockese?

Is it an identity? Yes. An ideology? Of course. And a  Mortlockese is an individual, a bonafide citizen of the Mortlocks Islands who was born there or elsewhere to Mortlockese parents and grew up in the Mortlockese culture and upbringing that distinguish him or her from other peoples. The Mortlock region spans southeasterly from the Chuuk Lagoon, specifically from Lukeisel (Nama, Losap, Piisemwar) in the north, through isolated Loilam or Namoluk at the south end of Appong, out to Namosepei or Ettal which is effoch iaas away from Moch which shares the atoll with Kuttu, and long and skinny Ta which stretches from Aliar Pass to Parang end of Satowan-the sub state center. East of these, there is Lekinioch always staring down at Oneop through that seven-mile stretch of blue lagoon called Nomonemu. Remochuloks are found in large groups in Weno and scattered throughout the rest of the big islands in the Truk Lagoon. They can also be found in Sokehs, Sekere and other villages in Pohnpei. There is a large contigent in Guam and in Honolulu as well as in Maui and the Big Island. They are also scattered all over the continental USA and throughout the world. But wherever they are, these Mortlockese never forget their identities, their roots and cultures and the islands that they left behind. For them, those islands are always refered to as "Back Home."

My Stance on Abortion

Abortion should be banned not only because it is immoral but also because it is a crime against humanity. Its acceptance by the American people and this administration is orchestrated by lies, deception, and by treacheries of those that stand to benefit from its legalization.
First, abortion of a fetus at any stage of its development is immoral because the fetus is a human being and as such, deserves the right to live as does any other individual. While the proponents of abortion argue that the fetus is just a "blob of tissue", many experts from the medical sciences unanimously declared that it is human and that its life begins at conception. A leading researcher at the Department of Genetics at the Mayo Clinic testified at a Senate Judiciary Committee hearing that, "By all the criteria of modern molecular biology, life is present from the moment of conception."
The proponents of abortion or "choice" argue that women have the rights to control their own bodies. It is their bodies and they can do whatever they want to do with it. However, what they seem to overlook is the fact that the fetuses that they carry inside their wombs are separate individuals. As individuals, they have separate circulatory systems and each has its own DNA setup, unique and different from the mother and from anybody else for that matter. In fact, the heart of a fetus begins to form 18 days after conception and its heartbeat begins to be measureable after 21-24 days. Its brain begins to form on the 25th day and starts to produce brain waves by the 6th week. So, while it is true that the mothers can do whatever they want to do to their bodies, it is morally wrong to abort a fetus because it is the same as killing another human being.
Second, abortion is a crime against humanity because no matter how one views it, statistics show that it is genocide. Since the Roe vs. Wade became law, thirty-seven million babies across America had been lost due to abortion. It is also a crime because, initially, the pro-choice groups argue that legalizing abortion would help reduce child abuse and neglect. However, statistics show that in 1973 when abortion became legal in the United States, there were 167,000 cases of child abuse and neglect that were documented by the Department of Health and Human Services. The following year, there were 785,100 cases; a 370% increase from the previous year. In the third year following the legalization of abortion, there were 2,025,200 case of child abuse and neglect which, sadly shows that there was an increase of 1112% and that abortion has a direct link to this crime against the innocents and the helpless.
Third, abortion should be banned because its legalization is a result of lies, deception and treachery, with which the pro-choice people used to accomplish their goals. The two landmark cases which bring about this immorality, Roe vs. Wade and Doe vs. Bolton, were never the true intentions of the plaintiffs. The counsels in these cases used the plaintiffs and their lawsuits to accomplish their own hidden agendas. On the other hand, many women had abortions because they were pressured and coerced into it by their spouses or partners who do not want to give child supports, and by a society who turns a blind eye to these helpless mothers who need help and support in dealing with pregnancies that nobody seems to accept.
In conclusion, because abortion is immoral, criminal, and does not serve any good or purpose other than exterminating millions of babies, then it should be banned.

The Making of the Famous Konomel

It started with a special kind of giant swamp taro called mwache. Although mwache can be found on other islands throughout Chuuk and the rest of the Micronesian islands, this variation that is grown on Oneop is different. While it usually takes a year or two for the other types of giant taro to reach maturity, mwache can be harvested only after six to eight months. From the initial planting of young shoots up to the time of harvest, mwache leaves all the other types of taro in the mud (pun intended) in terms of maintenance and upkeep. No fertilizer, no compost, no dead cats, no rotten fish, no black magic, and no constant monitoring and pampering is ever required to assure a healthy and succulent tuber or corm. In the words of one Oneopese farmer, “Just stick it in the mud and leave it the hell alone.” And the end product is always the same: a great tasting, mouth-watering, highly fibrous, good textured, energy-inducing, jaw-strengthening tuber that, when pounded, turns into the famous Konomel.

Some folks may ask, “But what is a Konomel?” Well, let me just say this. Konomel is similar to the Hawaiian poi although, it is different in taste, texture, color, nutritional value and . . . did I say taste? Once you taste Konomel, you will never go back to rice or poi or anything else. And this is how it is prepared:
1. First, the taro has to be harvested at least a day or two before cooking. Only the petioles, the leaves and the roots will be cut from the taro bulbs at this time. The mud and the skin should be kept on until immediately before cooking at which time, the women who do the preparation and cooking must skin them and hack them into little pieces using very sharp machetes and stack them neatly in gigantic aluminum pots, cover them with taro leaves and cook over open fires. This practice of keeping the harvested taro overnight is called amesapwin. They say that when amesapwin is done, the konomel becomes more scrumptious. (Note 1: The men who harvest it have to make sure that the corm or tuber is cut from the stem or the petioles (leaf stalks) at the site of harvest - the taro patch. One inch of corm has to stay on the stem to ensure that the leaf stalks don’t separate and fall off. These tuber-less adult taro plants are not discarded but stacked neatly in piles in the taro patch to await replanting as soon as they sprout new leaves. This cycle of harvesting and replanting of already harvested plants happens twice in the life of a taro. In other words, you can harvest two corms from on taro plant.)

2. The taro is cooked or boiled in large aluminum pots or vats over open fire for about ten to twelve hours. During that time, the women must keep vigil on the pot to make sure that the fire is always stoked and that water is always added to the pot when it becomes low. For that reason, the cookhouse also becomes a temporary sleeping quarter for the women. This time is very important to the women because it also serves as a time to share quality time together. It is a time to exchange information and a time to learn new things. Young pubescent daughters and nieces are taught and instructed in women’s affairs and things during this brief but fruitful period. Furthermore, this is also a time when the juiciest of gossips and the secretest of secrets are exchanged and adds to the fire; not the one under the pot.. (Note 2: This is also a time when husbands, fathers and boyfriends must also be vigilant. On Oneop, there is a band of night crawlers and marauders that are known as the “Ninjas”. They are a menace to society in that they sneak into homes when the people there are sleeping to look for hidden treasures (other than jewelry or money). It is a known fact that when the women spend the night in the cookhouse to cook and prepare the Konomel, these ninjas also go out at night to prowl. They bid their time and wait for the women to doze off so they can sneak in and steal from their pots. So, it is even harder for the poor husbands, fathers and boyfriends because while they must stay out of hearing distance from the cookhouse (it’s taboo for Oneopese males to eavesdrop on women’s conversation), they’re expected to miraculously materialize at the cookhouse at the exact moment the ninjas strike. So, you will often see them sitting in the dark at a distance from the cookhouse, swatting and eating mosquitoes, and constantly swearing at the damn ninjas and at life in general.)
3. Twelve hours later, when the taro corm is cooked, the actual creation of the Konomel begins. The excess water has to be drained from the pot leaving only a little bit in the bottom to steam the taro. Some embers are kept in the hearth under the pot to keep it warm. Rock pounders, pounding boards, coolant, and containers are collected, washed and set up. Pounders (females only) are selected and sent to shower and get ready to pound the taro. These pounders are prohibited from wearing any perfume otherwise the konomel will be ruined. Even only just a tinge of Eternity or Passion can render a whole batch of konomel inedible and worthless. The pounding starts when everyone is present and the server starts to serve the piping hot corms to each pounder. The pounding usually lasts for five to six hours depending on the number of pounders. So, when the pounding starts, there’s no more peace on earth. The constant pounding and staccato of rock pounders on wooden board (it is called kutupwurur) is enough to drive a deaf man crazy. It goes on and on and the konomel paste keeps growing and growing until there’s no more room on the pounding board. At such time, the konomel paste is transferred into large round containers called naoro’s or kapu’s where it awaits the rest of the paste for the final phase of creation. (Note 3: Interestingly, while the kutupwurur is going on, the flow of information is also non-stop. While pounding, the women tell stories and jokes and, sometimes, even blare out favorite songs and local chants. It is a time for hard work and merriment and according to the Oneopese women, there’s nothing more fun than female bonding on the pounding boards.)

4. While the women are pounding away, the men are busy collecting and husking adult coconuts – one ingredient in the konomel creating process. The coconut shells are cracked into halves and given to the young men who are manning the pweikers to grate the copra into large bowls in which the coconut cream will be extracted. Before the coconut cream is extracted from the grated copra, wild yellow ginger is added to create a distinct smell in the konomel. The wild ginger also serves as a type of preservative that keeps the konomel from getting spoilt after only a few days. (Note 4: In order to have the perfect konomel, the amount of coconut cream to be used is very critical. The master konomel maker calls all the shots. She knows by experience how many coconuts are needed to produce the exact amount of cream to mix with the konomel paste to produce the desired outcome and she lets the men and boys know. Often, the master konomel maker is the eldest among the females in the family and she wields her matriarchic power in such a manner that makes the Queen looks like a timid new recruit in a convent full of butch nuns.
5. During the final stage, the konomel paste is divided into portions and placed into the naoro’s and kapu’s. A naoro-ful of konomel often weighs fifty to sixty pounds and a kapu twenty-five to thirty. The master konomel-maker orders one of the strong men to knead the konomel paste. So while he’s doing that, the master measures and pours in the coconut cream into the container mixing it with the paste. The mix will have to be just right or the product will, like fish and tourists, stink in three days. When it’s done, the master will put the final layer of coconut cream on top and uses her hand like a trowel to apply the final finish. Unlike konomels from Lekinioch, Satowan and the other neighboring islands where gothic arts are drawn on them, the Oneop konomel is bare, smooth and unblemished as a baby’s bottom. The final product is then covered with banana leaves and stored in the main house. No body will partake of this delicious feast until the next day when the elders divide it up among the members of the family including their guests and those that help in its preparation. (Final note: The art of eating konomel is unique. So, before you eat konomel, it is a good idea to get some training and lessons on the proper way to eat it beforehand. In fact there are two ways to eat konomel. First, if you are a male, it is advisable that you use your fore and middle finger together to scoop up the slippery paste (konomel is only eaten with the fingers--no utensils allowed). But the only way to ensure that the paste is stuck to your fingers is to stick those fingers into the konomel, swirl it around clockwise five times and then bring it up to your mouth. The swirling will cause the konomel to stick to your two digits and not fall off on its way to meet your mouth. Second, if you are a female, you use the same techniques as the males but use only one finger--your middle finger. This is a good technique because if you're mad at your husband or boyfriend, you can use this technique to get back at him and let him know how you feel. Stick your middle finger in the konomel, swirl it around clockwise five times, bring it to your mouth and smack your lips as you suck and swallow it. Keep the middle finger extended upward while staring into your hubby's pathetic eyes and whisper, "In your eyes!")

Happy Thanksgiving

God provides everything for my family including our very lives. For that very reason, I will give thanks to Him on this special day with the hope that he will continue to bless us and look out for us especially through these tumultuous times.

And to everyone, happy Thanksgiving.

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.