Treat My First Like My Last And My Last Like My First

Here we are. This may be the last post of the school year on this blog. It may be the last post forever, for reasons I will get into a bit later. On to the show:

If you have access to coconut and tangan-tangan trees, I can build you one of these mofos. The Carolinians call them "Utts", which made me laugh a bit. I asked them if they wanted delivery from "Pizza Utt" and it took them a solid 10 seconds before they got the joke. Regardless, this bad boy took about seven hours to erect, including the weaving of dozens and dozens of coconut/palm leaves in order to make a roof and siding. This wasn't like any other construction project I've ever been near. Every time a lightbulb appeared over my head, I realized that these guys and gals knew more about this than I did, and that their hands worked better than any tools I could bring to the table.

Siding gauge: Not Necessary.
Hammer and Nails: Not Necessary.
Tape Measure: Not Necessary.
Contraband cigarettes to grease the wheels with the local helpers: Necessary. There are different rules in Saipan.

 

And there it is. This served as our "restaurant" during the recent Cultural Day at Marianas High School. We served burgers, hot dogs, drinks, and koko (pickled papaya and mango) in order to profit enough skrilla to outfit the graduating Refaluwasch Cultural Club members with "RCC" sashes to go over their gowns. In an unrelated note, I may be emceeing the graduation...a high honor for a white dude who's only been here for a short time. The Utt had to be taken down within the next week, but believe me when I say that it could have stood for another year or so with no issues. Rain leakage was minimal, and it was 1000x better than cramping yourself and your off-brand Nutty Bars against a bathroom awning for 4 hours while people give you sideways glances as you try to peddle your wares. 

I have some brown-nosers in my school; this was a sneaky-delicious cake presented to me by one of my best classes. The frosting, regardless of color, had the consistency and taste of Cool-Whip. Giddy up. I ignored the inappropriately placed apostrophe and dug into it with ferocity. Don't worry, I made sure to do five sit-ups that night to burn it off. 

By and large, my classes this year have been amazing. I'm guessing it's a combination of good kids and me getting better and better at my job. Speaking of teaching here...

So, the whole "staying in Saipan next year" thing...

Yeah...

You'd be surprised at how flexible "normal" is. If you work a 40-50 hour job for some random small (or large) company/school/etc, it doesn't take long for that to become your normal. You do your eight/nine/ten hours, regroup on the way home, and then spend time with your family and friends if you're lucky. Maybe you get some yard work done on the weekend. Maybe you get to catch a ballgame on TV or better yet in person. Maybe normal is having to lift your doorknob a bit so the deadbolt latches. Maybe your normal is that one non-rent payday when you get to splurge on good beer and food. Maybe your normal is spending Saturday on Pinterest looking at new and creative recipes for your boring boneless-skinless chicken breasts that have been taking up too much freezer space (Just use olive oil and Sriracha). 

Regardless, it's incredibly easy for one's "normal" to change. My normal has become nice weather (with the occasional monsoon), golf twice each week, bombing around a tropical island on a scooter, and killing it as a teacher in Saipan. It will be tough to leave the life I have here, however normal feels the most "normal" when I'm at home. Maybe I land a decent teaching gig in MN and that becomes my normal once again. Maybe I don't. Maybe my normal is having a bull running around my backyard, threatening to bash sliding-glass doors with its horns (look for the two eye-like dots, thems the horns):

Where does a 600lb bull run around? Wherever it wants. This was a borderline ridiculous scenario in which a bull that is normally on my street broke free of the rope and made it into my backyard. After a short consultation with its' owners ("Hey man, I think your cow went over here"), eight or nine locals sprang into action in order to get bovinezilla corralled safely. If that wasn't enough semi-domesticated wildlife for one blog post, here's some more:

The kitten was first named after the movie "Deathproof" after it fell off the side of my balcony and managed to CLAW ITSELF UP THE CONCRETE in order to avoid a 14' fall to an almost-certain death. His name was later changed to "Stuntman Mike" from the same film. Stuntman Mike only has one eye and should likely be dead by now, but after witnessing his ascent UP THE F*CKING CONCRETE I've taken a liking to him. I guess it's one of those "hey, buddy, you really want to live, don't you? Maybe I'll help you try to stay alive" things. I'm in charge of feeding him until I leave on 6/29, and although I don't want him dead, I'm not a fan of him climbing on my screen door. Termites are bad this time of year, and any gap in your screen door = flying termites in your home. Then again, when he trudged through the trees and grass to get to the palapala (gazebo), I had to admire his gumption. I admired it even more when he attempted to kill Andy:

I'm convinced that if the cat were 70lbs heavier he would have killed us within seconds. 

Stuntman Mike is alive and well as of now. I fed him raw bacon for a week or so before I broke down and bought cat food. Andy, on the other hand, may have some Cat Scratch Fever (What up, Nuge!)

Once again, here we are: Three years in Saipan. Two summers in MN. One relationship that didn't quite make it to the finish line (I hope you love Cape Cod and your new job, Wheelyum). Too many memories and new friendships to name. It's an odd feeling; when I moved out here three years ago I thought, "do I really want to move ALL THE WAY OUT THERE?", and now all I can think of is "do I really want to move ALL THE WAY BACK?". When your normal is a small rock 7,000 miles away from home, it's odd to think about snow and cold and the grind that everyone goes through and the fact that most of your people now have families and mortgages and "it's your night with the baby" nights and tangible, real responsibilities. Some of those things may sound awful, but some of them sound normal to me.

Just because I seem to always end posts with a sunset pic, here's what Saipan is like at 6:00pm and 6:30pm these days:

Yep, that's the gazebo in my yard. The bugs may be annoying, the geckos may be loud, and the rats eating fruit from the trees may be large, but it's still my favorite "room" in the world. And after a half hour, the view looks like this:

BONUS ROUND!!!!

1) Saipan Car-Related Moment: The rear tire on my scooter went kaput, and I had to push it (imagine a white dude on an island in Oceania pushing a scooter down a sidewalk for 1.5 miles in a dress shirt) to the nearest tire place. $58 later I was back on the road, however I'm conflicted as to whether I should include that expense when I sell the beast in a few weeks.

2) Camping at Managaha (the islet within the same reef as Saipan) cannot be beat. While I had a blast last weekend, I'm chagrined that it has taken me this long to partake in an overnight excursion on that small chunk of land.

3) Best student-related moment of the week: I was talking about the space race (I'm currently teaching the Cold War) and asked my students about their knowledge of the universe. I had to dispel the following ideas:

A) Transformers live in space

B) The North Star is the closest star to Earth

C) The Moon lights up on its own

D) The Sun goes down at night, therefore it doesn't face the Earth at all times

Keep in mind I teach high school kids.

4) New Recipe from Saipan. Not sure what I'm calling it yet, but "Breakfast Dogs" has a good ring to it:

4 Sweet Bread Rolls (Saipan Style) or 4 Brat Buns (MN/WI Style)
4 Bananas
Honey
Peanut Butter
Nutella

Slice each of the 4 rolls/buns lengthwise until they are about to fall apart. Spread peanut butter on one side and Nutella on the other side.

Place the 1/2 bananas in the rolls. Drizzle honey on the top of them. Wrap them in wax paper or aluminum foil and bring them to the golf course with you. Eat one before you tee off on the first hole. Eat another one after your first three-putt. Offer the other two to your playing partners. Everyone wins.

Until the next one...

-Steve

I Can Go Anywhere And Still Be Nowhere

I realize this has become a running theme on this page, however I really do need to write more often, especially on this blog. Or maybe I can convince myself that a 2/3 month period in between posts is a healthy and productive break. Then again, breaks don't pay the bills. Onto the show...

I've written about the holiday season feeling, well, not so much like the holiday season when you're in Micronesia. Indeed, bonfires at the beach, barbecues, and a rollercoaster golf game are certainly preferable to clearing your windshield with the big part of the scraper you broke last year and haven't gotten around to replacing yet. Being able to hike to Forbidden Island (more pics on Facebook) and check our other-worldly fish is better than shoveling snow, yes. But there's a silent nod and "fineyouwinigiveup" smile seen on some faces while watching the kids sing "Rocking Around the Coconut Tree". Ex-pats from north of the Mason/Dixon know that while warm weather is amazing, the cold has some positives as well: The beauty in being the only car on the road after a snowfall, the white stuff insulating the road so the only sounds you hear are from inside your car. The insanity that is a last minute trip to the casino even though I-694 is all but shut down. The small self-congratulations you allow yourself after the car is finally in park because dammit, you made it. How good great that first beer/slice of pizza/handshake is when you arrive at your local watering hole, realizing how many things had to go right in order for you and your close folks to get there, and for a moment no one is worried about how in the hell they're going to get back up their driveway when they get home. Simply put, the grass is always greener on the other side. 

The flora, however, is most certainly greener in Saipan this time of year:

This pic was taken at sea level near the aforementioned Forbidden Island. It's only a 20-some minute hike, but the 500ft in elevation change is no joke. I have no idea how people climb, you know, actual mountains.

I do know a few things, however, about coaching basketball. I inherited a ridiculously talented girl's program, so it was only a matter of scheduling before we were going to be taking home some hardware...

...and cutting down the net. Good times! I can't remember the last time I've been a part of an actual championship team, so it felt pretty good. 

I had a two week break between seasons and tryouts for the boys' team started in the first week of December. Gawd, have I really been doing this for over 3 months already this school year? Don't get me wrong, I love coaching, but umpteen consecutive ten+ hour days with teenagers is a test for even the most patient of people. I used to think working a double in the restaurant business was rough (and trust me, I've worked plenty of those), but restaurants will usually look the other way while you sneak in a drink or a cigarette or a 10 minute break to "wash a stain out of your uniform" or wash dishes or something that has nothing to do with being pushed and pulled by hungry and thirsty people. Teaching and then coaching is another animal, and I'm not sure my employer would be happy if I snuck in a Jack Daniel's or two at lunch or in between halves of a basketball game. Endless questions, smelly locker rooms, and the always hilarious interplay of puberty and athletics. They tell me I'll miss it when it's over, so there's that. Our first boys' game is on January 11th and the season looks like it will go until the first week in March, so it won't last forever. 

Yard golf is a great time. Sand wedge in one hand, Mason jar in the other. 'This one starts in the shadow of this coconut tree and ends inside that horseshoe pit'...that kind of thing. Par is always 3 and 9 holes is usually enough before everyone packs it in. Emily is a natural: Check out the textbook "right shoulder down" stance.

The yard has been productive recently, with bananas, limes, starfruit, jackfruit, guava, and figs all at varying levels of ripeness. It would be an odd fruit salad but undoubtedly worth trying once. For everything else food-related I am still a fan of McDonald's (What's up McRib!), however the local market has been dominating recently:

Yes, they do indeed "Accept FoodStamp". They also stock Pizza Rolls, Johnsonville Brats, and an impressively spicy bag of Planter's peanuts ("5 Alarm Chili" for you legume lovers). Like many small markets on Saipan, Welcome Supermarket is owned by ridiculously nice and hard-working Chinese people. They remind you that you haven't purchased ice in awhile and then bring the ice to your car for you. They'll bag up your groceries in six seconds and let you run your card for an extra $10 because the only no-fee ATM is a solid 10 minutes away and you're golfing in 5. Sure, the curse of inconsistent inventory hasn't spared Welcome Supermarket, however I can at least count on Diet Coke being in stock here. Believe it or not, that's a huge selling point.

BONUS ROUND!!!!!!

-Saipan Car-Related Moment of the Blog: The scooter has survived its' carburetor transplant and has not rejected the new part. I couldn't be more proud. Also, a former student of mine bragged to me about his 10,000 watt car stereo system that "made a girl pee her pants". If you're looking for 1996, come to Saipan and listen to "Compton" by Kendrick Lamar. You're a puffy yellow ski jacket and some Doc Marten's away from living the dream.

-I'm officially old. After a few buffet meals at various functions I feel the honest need to eat healthy for a while. 23 year-old Steve would be reveling in copious food offerings during the holiday seasons. 23 year-old Steve could put down 5,000 calories in a day and erase that mistake with a few sit-ups. 33 year-old Steve can't erase a big breakfast without a 2-hour basketball practice. Advice to you younger folks: Don't listen to people who tell you to take care of your body. Have as much fun as you can and do everything you can to destroy your body, because they day you actually have to start taking care of it is a huge bummer and shouldn't happen any earlier than necessary.

-Things will get interesting here in January when the new guard of legislators takes over. Chiefly among the issues they face is the question of whether or not the governor should be impeached. I've written many times on this blog about Saipan politics, but it seriously gets more ridiculous and hilarious by the day. I need to start archiving newspapers and web page screen shots for the day I start writing a book about this place. Check out www.mvariety.com after the calendar flips to 2013 and you'll see what I'm talking about.

-While I have no concrete plans for next fall, this summer Emily and I are planning a trip around SE Asia. Vietnam, Bali, and Cebu (P.I.) are on the list, and if anyone out there has suggestions I'd love to hear them.

Until the next one...

I'll Be That

3 months without a blog, including 3 weeks back in Saipan. All play and no work has been a blast, however it's time to get back on my teaching/coaching/advising/writing grind. New Saipan photos are at a dearth; in their stead I have some photos from my trip out east.  

Glad to have you back. Onto the show...

There's simply no way to take in this photo without chuckling a bit. Poor Liz didn't stand a chance. But then again, who knows? Perhaps her hubby's 4 acre lot was lush and had an ocean view. Maybe she was a shut-in who relished in a built-in excuse to not attend get-togethers and the Crossfit Muddy Warrior Dash 3-Day Paleo 5k Walk For The Cure. Then again, maybe after the first year she began to hate her surroundings. Perhaps a tree grew juuuuust large enough to ruin her waterfront view. It may seem like I'm rambling, but the first few weeks in Saipan have been a constant reminder of a story I once heard:

A old farmer had his horse run away one day. After the people in his village delivered this terrible news, he simply shrugged and said "We'll see".

The horse came back two days later with three other wild horses. "My Goodness! What great fortune you have!" exclaimed the villagers. "We'll see" was the man's response.

While trying to break the heartiest of the wild horses, the farmer's son fell off of the beast and broke his leg. "What horrible luck!" the villagers said. The man, his head held low, said "We'll see".

The next week the military came into town and drafted all able-bodied young men into their service. They passed over his son with the lame leg and the villagers congratulated the old farmer on how great everything worked out. "We'll see" is all he said in response.

Long story short: Things are never as bad (or good) as they seem in the moment, and I've had quite the rollercoaster since being back on the island.

When I arrived they hadn't shut off my power due to non-payment for 2 months: Awesome. 

When I saw the amount I owed the power company: Not awesome.

The scooter was still parked where I left it! Awesome!

The scooter doesn't like to start after it rains, and we're still in monsoon season: Brutal.

My supposedly 11th grade US History class is populated with freshman: Awful

Wait...9th graders still fear authority: AWESOME!

My second job as a college professor required me to buy a business license for $50: Terrible.

I'm now incorporated as Steve Jents, dba Prestige Worldwide: Worth more than $50.

You get the gist of it. Between the ups and downs has been a whole lot of good stuff, as the first weeks of high school have gone off without a hitch, the college gig remains fun, and coaching girls basketball has been a better time than I expected. The beach is still across the street and I still have fruit in the yard. It's not important to add up the small victories in life, however it is imperative that you know they are there and acknowledge them when they occur.

But, oh...Saipan. Oh my. Check out the Marianas Variety or Saipan Tribune online and see the damage for yourself. Doctors leaving the rock in droves to the point the hospital may actually close. The governor going through an impeachment. The school system all but begging on its knees for funding to reduce class sizes (I'm at 40-to-1 right now). An exponential increase in property crime coupled with the inability of local law enforcement. I wouldn't go as far as saying the island is in complete disarray, however we're in the neighborhood. But again...we'll see.

The warm and gorgeous small-town feel of Newburyport, MA reminds me quite a bit of Saipan. We couldn't walk for a bagel (trust me when I say there are bagels on the east coast and there are bagels everywhere else; they are not the same) in Emily's hometown without her spotting someone she used to babysit for or a parent of someone she went to school with. Such is life on the island, where our return was met with heart warming greetings from students and shopkeepers alike. You KNOW you've spent too much time in a place when the dude bagging your groceries reminds you that you need cigarettes. But then again, nothing compares to the sight of a half-dozen or so Carolinian kids jumping out of the back of a pickup truck and screaming your name and dancing with excitement once they've realized you've returned to their island. Guaranteed goosebumps.

There was a moment when I hadn't realized these boats were anchored to buoys. "My god, there are a TON of people out on their boats today". Emily did her best not to be condescending when she informed me that boats can float in the middle of the water without being used. Sweet Jesus I felt like a corn-shucker. May as well chew on this here grass until the milk truck comes to RR-1312...better'n white wawshin' the fence again. Honestly, I had no idea boats existed in anything in statuses other than being operated, sitting at a dock, or being towed around by F-150s. I felt a similar sense of dumbassery at a girls basketball practice last week. After watching a few girls set picks and screens with their arms folded straight across their upper torsos I blew the whistle:

Me: "Does anyone here know how to set a pick? Seriously, how long have you been playing basketball???"

Player: "Coach Jents, I think you might be thinking about..."

Me (interrupting): "YOU SET A PICK LIKE THIS" (places both hands over groin area, the way that boys are taught to set picks from an early age)

Players: "Coach Jents...um...girls set picks differently"

Me: "JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE A GIRL DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULDN'T PROTECT YOUR...oh. Ooooooh. Right. Carry on, ladies"

The again, my day could have been worse:

That's right. While everything you've heard about the east coast (and Boston) may not be true, there is some credibility to the "they don't take shit from anyone" stereotype. I'm not sure the Marge Gundersons of the world have the stones to place a sign like this outside their homes. Sure, we'll see crazy political signs and billboards, but nothing as personal as someone admonishing dog owners. Pissing off (no pun intended) dog owners in the midwest is akin to belonging to a Satanic cult, and at the very least Jill would have been expected to mitigate her feelings with some passivity. Something like "Please try to avoid the planted area of my yard. We work so hard to keep it looking nice for all of you!" seems right.

BONUS ROUND!!!

-Saipan Car-Related Moment of the Week: Emily's idler arm in her 4Runner snapped on the way to school. I babied that thing for 7 miles without much steering to speak of other than when it decided to swerve into or away from oncoming traffic. We made it, and Super Mechanic Manny had it back on the road within hours for a fraction of what it would have costed in The States.

-2 quick food recommendations: Squeeze a couple of limes onto your potato salad before you serve it next time. Sure, mix it in a little, but leave some for the top. Good times. Also, Mandi Wraps. Mandi Asian Spa is located a half mile from the apartment, and cheap membership rates are conducive to teachers who need a bit of quiet time every now and again. The food menu is the most ridiculous I've seen, as all items are microwaved (think Hot Pockets and Pizza Rolls...no joke) and start at about $9. The easy solution is to bring in food, however what will still be edible after a few hours of sitting in a locker? I present the Mandi Wrap:

1 Burrito-sized tortilla
1/2 of a red pepper
1/2 of a carrot (or 3 baby carrots)
1/2 of a cucumber
Ranch Dressing (as much as you want...you're eating veggies and that has to count for something)
Shredded Cheese or janky Kraft-esque singles that you've cut into thin strips (optional)

Cut veggies. I would say "julienne" but that may take awhile for those less inclined to the culinary arts. Regardless, stuff those mofos into the wrap. Drizzle the ranch. Add cheese if that's your thing. Wrap it up and cover with aluminum foil. Tasty, healthier than a burger, and you at least have the appearance of  eating right.

Until the next one...