
In the past 4 weeks, I have expanded my entirety more than imaginable. The smallest things have become the biggest: smiles, nods, ‘rananiems’ (Chuukese for ‘good morning’), ‘na-pungs’ (Chuukese for ‘good night’), having clean clothes, the comfort of my inch-thin sleeping mat on wooden frame after an 18 hour day, and the relief of a cool breeze rushing through my office at 3:30p.m. when the sun is directly on my back.
I have witnessed unimaginable things. Poverty, homelessness, sickness, wounds, drought, the smell of rotting food and feces from extreme pollution, and the aftermath of natural disasters is the average day here. I find myself trying to understand so much in this first month by asking thousands of probing questions (which I imagine to be rather annoying to those who have lived this for long periods of time already). I simply want to know everything, but the Chuukese are a quiet people. Many things are kept to themselves, but I am able to find a few Micronesians that are willing to share their experiences, culture, and knowledge of this world.
As I sit, I spot a Sapukian woman carrying baskets in ripped clothes and dirt on her face and she does not have an ounce of sadness or pain in her eyes. She radiates a smile at me, and I cannot help but return one through the urge to cry. She dances playfully with the children playing ball on the dirt road speaking something maternal in Chuukese to them, then turns and nods a departing smile back at me before disappearing down a rugged path to the village. This is like euphoria to me and I am overwhelmed with nothing less than the purest beauties of the world.

Having seen more of the island and the culture, I am amazed at the beauty here. My entire existence is awakened. My heart is full. My head is clear. My soul is on fire. I awake each morning eager to witness the sunrise from the roof, see my students’ faces, and learn from my co-workers and host family. I awake each morning with a purpose and go to sleep each night fulfilled.
Nothing has ever been so rewarding, and I continuously thank the stars for guiding me here.

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