As Predictable as the Cockroaches
As Predictable as the Cockroaches
So, you're probably wondering what on earth this blog could possibly be about and do you want to even read on?
Well, here's the thing. When I flip on the switch to our downstairs bathroom anytime between 11 PM and 7 AM, I know I will see at least one cockroach scuttling across the floor to crawl back into its small hole in the caulking of the toilet. I've been after Mark to re-caulk that thing because our temporary solution, masking tape in several layers over the hole, has proved fruitless! The buggers burrow their way through the tape as well. Anyway, it is just as certain as finding their cockroach poo-poo on the bathroom sink counter in the morning. Wiping it down every morning before the kids use it has become my new routine. We will hopefully solve this problem soon. We might even try some Boric Acid. Regardless, cockroaches are just one of the many things I can “count on” here at Kwaj, unlike the mail plane, which was delayed this week, and new dairy products being on the shelves on Tuesday afternoon. I can count on the coconut palm climbers to come and cut the heavier palm branches and knock down the mature coconuts from my front-yard tree every few weeks before they fall on our heads from quite a distance. I no longer wonder what that thud, drop, thud, drop, thud, drop sound is out my front window. One of these days I hope to get a picture of one of my coconut-climbing Marshallese fellows, as long as they are not too self-conscious. Will you even believe it until I do? :)
Well, predictable is starting to be a wanted feeling. We all like to be able to plan, schedule, and know what to expect, and life doesn't allow that much of the time, but there is something comforting in knowing that the cockroach will no longer catch me by surprise. If it is nighttime, they are nocturnal, so it stands to reason they should be crawling out of where my toilet bowl meets the floor. What right have I to be caught off guard by that? They even leave little “clues.” So these are the silly things that bring me comfort in a slightly perverse predictability.
Another one would be knowing that when I see a certain 8-year-old boy (not mine) riding around aimlessly past 4 o'clock he will eventually land at my house and ask if anyone inside is playing video games or wants to? It is as predictable as the sudden onset of rain here that you know will end if you just count to 200 slowly. It is as predictable as my extremely extroverted 5-year-old asking for a play date to come over 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, or my 2-year-old sitting in his favorite chair, upon waking up, and singing “Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, Dora” as my cue to then turn on “Dora the Explorer,” get him a blanket, a bowl of Kix, and his sippy cup of rice milk so The King can start his morning off just right.
What is not predictable right now is who is staying and who is going. Our island is in the middle of a huge transition where there are huge budget cuts and many pink slips being passed out. While this does not threaten our livelihood directly, because of our particular contract, it does mean that many people who make this island function, from radar to police to teachers and medical personnel, are jumping ship in a mass exodus, many of them from fear of the pink slip. By 2009 and 2010, our numbers will greatly decrease, and while my mind is temporarily at ease about what this will mean for education, etc., I am finding out about 8 families a week who are leaving rather suddenly, and who I thought I could enjoy the friendship of for at least another year. It makes it hard to form attachments, and it makes you feel left behind (when we've only been here 6 months and are now “veteran residents,” it's a weird feeling). It rocks our world to have so many people that Mark works with (not directly in our organization) leaving or new friends the kids have made. There is growth ahead of us to learn how to cope with these new dynamics, and I'm sure good lessons will come out of it for the kids, but in the meantime, I sadly count things like the duration of rainfall, the coconut palm climbers, and my little potty-bug friends as constants. I pray that we can shine a light in the middle of this uncertain and insecure time for our fellow island-mates.
Friday, February 15, 2008