An Amazing Weekend in Salapwuk and Nahlap

Pohnpeian Word of the Day: pampap = “to swim”

Sorry that I haven’t posted anything in a few days – this weekend has been a bit intense, as you’ll soon read.

On Nialim (Friday), all of the volunteers – save the married couple which has yet to arrive – met for dinner at the Island Café near the airport causeway. About half of our number will be leaving for Kosrae on Friday, so this will probably be the last chance we have to socialize with them for a year.

The restaurant itself is completely open-air with an ocean view, and everyone was in high spirits for the meal. Sashimi turned out to be the best ordering choice (you can get it here for ridiculously cheap), but I just couldn’t resist the cheeseburger and fries. It had to have been the worst one I’ve ever eaten in my life - including Rally’s – and I couldn’t have enjoyed it more.

On Rahnkaulop (Saturday), we all woke up bright and early and walked down to PICS for the big hike in Salapwuk, near Kitti. After making and packing peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches, we piled into the bus/van for the half-hour drive. Our destination was closer to the interior of the island, so at some point we turned off the circular road running around the rim and onto a pretty intense incline – the old vehicle strained to pull its full load up the hill.

Eventually, the paved road ended and it was time to start walking… and thus began what would turn out to be a ten-plus mile hike lasting some six or seven hours. At first, the going was smooth and level, and the hardest part was simply keeping your shoes out of the mud – but that didn’t last.

Before long, we were on a trail carved out of dense jungle by a machete, which at some points was so narrow you had to put one foot in front of the other. The ground was a combination of slippery, sticky mud and slimy moss-covered roots or rocks, which resulted in dozens of hilarious falls throughout the hike. We were almost always climbing up or down a steep mountain ridge, and it was often necessary to use your hands as well just to hold on. That’s the thing about rainforests – they are awful damn wet.

After an hour or so of this, we finally reached our destination – a deep river valley. From the rim of this valley, six waterfalls tumble into the river below, and it was these that we had come all this way to see. Unfortunately, this part of the hike was also the hardest and most dangerous – for a few miles, we followed the course of the river, slipping and sliding along the rocks which lined either shore. More times than I can count, we were forced to cross it, and I am amazed I managed to keep my backpack (and the expensive video camera inside it) safe and dry.

The waterfalls were, however, well worth all this effort. The sound is penetrating in the almost silent jungle, so we could always tell when we were near one. Some had large pools at the bottom, and at these we stopped for a few minutes to swim – the cold water was amazingly refreshing in the tropical heat, and we always hated having to leave.

We finally crawled out of the jungle two hours after we had told the bus driver to pick us up, but he was fortunately still there. We were soaking wet and covered in mud, and a few of us (including me) had managed to pick up a few cuts and scrapes, but the sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. Everyone congratulated me on doing so well for my first real hike, to which I quipped, “Anything you can do, I can do slower.”

When we returned to the house, I was ready to pass out but we had other plans – our family was gathering for a little holiday on the island of Nahlap, and we were soon swept into the back of a pickup trudge barreling down the roads to Kitti. We made several stops, dropping off or picking up food and/or people, until finally we arrived at the boat dock. About a half-hour later, a boat arrived and picked us up for the ten-minute trip.

Nahlap is one of the barrier reef islands encircling the main volcanic one – as such, it is basically little more than an overgrown sandbar. In most places it is maybe a hundred or so feet wide, though it is a few miles in length. There is a sort of resort on one end of it, and this is where everyone would be spending the following day.

When we arrived, we were quickly led to a very large and well-built nahs that the family had rented for the night. True to Pohnpeian form, mats were already set up for us to sleep on, and I quickly made use of mine. I soon dozed off to the sound of the ocean crashing on either shore, and the laughter of the children as they danced to Shania Twain (don’t ask).

On Rahnsarahwi (Sunday), I woke up excited to explore the place I had been transported to in the dark of night, much as I had the day I arrived on Pohnpei. Indigo walked me to the other end of the resort, where a small white chapel stood empty, overlooking the first sandy beach I have seen since being here.

Soon after everyone was awake, the swimming began in earnest. The waters of the Pacific are warm and crystal-clear here, as I had always been told, and through them I could see the giant clams and blue starfish on the reef beneath. I could tell this day would be as relaxing as the day before was arduous.

We were offered a bottle of unmarked “sunscreen” which looked more like baby oil to me. I took one look at our host’s dark brown skin and decided to stick with my SPF 50, but Meghan took them up on it. Guess who got burned?

There were two piers where people congregated to swim. On one, a simple water slide had been constructed from a large piece of PVC pipe. If you had a friend with you, you could haul a bucket of water up from the ocean on a long cord, and have them dump it down the slide after you for the full effect. Unfortunately, on one of my many trips down this slide, I banged my hand on one of the wooden supports and now I can’t flex my middle finger – don’t worry mom, it’s just a sprain; they won’t have to airlift me to Guam. :)

The other pier ended in a platform which was ideal for jumping in – or pushing other people in. I spent at least a half-hour playing with some dozen kids on it. They would all try to push me in and I would try to push them in one at a time; it doesn’t seem all that fair, but I was the oldest and tallest so I held my own pretty well. I also taught some of the boys the cannonball, which I renamed the “coconut” in the interests of cultural sensitivity.

When I wasn’t swimming, I was napping in one of the few hammocks – it left marks on my back, of which I was quite proud. There was also barbecue… with such a large family, they essentially fill up a basin with chicken parts and marinade, then roast them a few dozen at a time on a grate over a barrel. It’s unbelievably delicious – I have to get the recipe.

Oh, and at some point I broke a light bulb on my head. I am taller than just about every Pohnpeian I know, and our nahs was definitely not built for six-foot Americans. None of the lights here have covers, so… well, you get the picture.

All in all, it was a full and amazing weekend – I got to know two different faces of the island I will be calling home, and I pushed myself to try all sorts of things I have never done or at least never enjoyed doing. I hope I will still be able to do stuff like this when orientation ends and I move out of the host family’s house...