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
