Pohnpei, Pictorally

A few snapshots of life here in Pohnpei! This week marks the first full week of school. I'm really excited to get into a routine and learn the ins and outs of working here. It's been quite the journey so far, and I'm excited to get more settled and adjusted!

Local Catholic church, right across from Pohnpei Catholic School (PCS)

My classroom before cleaning/decorating

Before. Still working on getting enough desks for all my students!

PCS

Walking through the jungle to get to the J-house (Jesuit House)

The wonderful J-house!

Views from the J-house back porch

A little hut along the causeway

Little hut with Sokehs Rock in the background

Fried ice cream for dessert at the staff lunch on the first day of school!

So much green. So much sun. All the time.

Andddd after cleaning and decorating!

I am alive, having survived a gnarly stomach bug over the weekend. Ready to take on this week of school!

At a MicroGames basketball game

Retreat

Thank you for your prayers, support, and love. Please keep it coming!
Em

Keep On Keepin' On

This post was supposed to be called 'Pohnpei, Pictorially' and be full of beautiful island pictures so you can get a better idea of what I see everyday. Pohnpei is so, so beautiful. Imagine Jurassic Park meets George of the Jungle meets Tarzan, and you'll get Pohnpei in a nutshell. But, this post is not called 'Pohnpei, Pictorally' because of an unfortunate break in at our apartment this weekend. We were gone for 1 night, and some persistent thieves (who have already attempted 4 break-ins, and were successful once and stole a laptop) came back for more and stole my laptop, ipod, and cash, along with my community mate Kristen's laptop. Everything was strategically hidden, and in order to even get into our apartment the thieves climbed a large fence with barbed wire, broke a lock off of a huge black prison-looking-gate, and totally destroyed our door, breaking both the normal lock and the deadbolt off completely. Our relaxed, well-rested retreat selves morphed into tight shouldered, frustrated volunteers the moment we saw our door with several pieces missing. To soothe the loss, and because we didn't know what else to do, we bought yogurt at the store (a very expensive and rare treat) and played board games and tried to decide how to tell 4 sets of over-protective parents that we'd been broken into again. We topped the evening off with pasta and veggies and red wine and chocolate, and all was (mostly) well with the world. I prayed at dinner last night that the thieves would at least use the money they get from selling our electronics for good things, like their child's education or a gift for their mother. A girl can dream, right?

Here are some of the more amazing things that have happened my first two weeks on island:

-Caught a few events of the Microgames, including a party we stumbled across with all the athletes.
-I now have a Pohnpeian driver's license! It should win the award for most beautiful license design.
-We swam in a waterfall, and had to walk through the jungle (legit jungle) to get there. So. Beautiful.
-I've experienced massive, torrential downpours. It rains so much here, but I absolutely love the rain, because the alternative to rainy days are very hot, sweaty, sticky days. Because of Pohnpei's landscape and mountains and the surrounding atolls, it actually creates it's own weather.
-I've gotten to know the 2 priests on island, Father Dave and Father Julio, as well as the 2 orders of sisters on the island. The sisters don't wear traditional nun-attire, but they are sassy and wonderful. I get the joy of working with them everyday, and have so much to learn from them.
-I visited my host family for the first time! It was incredible and overwhelming and included traditional Pohnpeian food (my favorite dishes are fried bananas and bananas mashed with coconut juice), sakau, a Pohnpeian wedding (my host father is the deacon of the church), me learning how to shave coconuts and cook Pohnpeian food, and more. I can't wait to share more about my host family with you :)
-I've gotten acquainted with the layout of Kolonia, and feel confident walking around town on my own.
-Slowly but surely, I'm trying to learn Pohnpeian. It's a goal of mine to work hard on language, but it's a really tough one to learn!
-I've spent the last week preparing for school to start on Thursday! I'll be back tomorrow with a post about my classroom and thoughts on teaching here in the FSM. I'm in for the biggest challenge of my life.

If anyone happens to know someone who was planning on selling a laptop, shoot me an email!

Until tomorrow, friends. I'm in the 'keep on keeping on' mindset, and can't wait to get into the school rhythm and get to know my 7th graders!

Big-O

Written 7/26 en route to FSM!

Orientation is officially over and team FSM is en route! The six of us have been on quite the journey the past two days traveling from Newark to San Fran to Hawaii, sleeping overnight in the airport (this group of people + sleep deprivation + concrete floors + stolen airplane blankets = a good time, guaranteed) and finally taking a 10-hour island hopper which will take us to our respective islands after stopping in Majuro and Kwajalein (both in The Marshall Islands), and Kosrea (one of the four states of FSM).

The past two weeks at University of Scranton felt like our own mini theology-international-education-and-mission-work grad school. Our 12 hour days were packed with sessions on topics ranging from mental/emotional health, empathetic listening, and teaching in an international context, to power and privilege and spirituality in a changing epoch. We broke off into our respective country groups (Equator, FSM, Chile, Nicaragua, Tanzania, Peru, and Belize) and had the chance to talk to FJVs (former Jesuit Volunteers) who came to impart their wisdom on us newbies. We talked a lot about self-care. What are those practices that you need to do to keep yourself healthy? Running, reading, being alone? We brainstormed and shared and helped each other because when we’re in the field for two years, we have to take care of ourselves.At night we crowded into the community room for snacks and evening entertainment ranging from cards and bananagrams to a talent show and orientation prom.

After about a week of long, intense days we were met with a wonderful treat: the Silent Retreat. All 40-something volunteers piled onto a bus and drove into the Poconos to stay at a retreat center on Chapman Lake for 38 hours of silence. The directions were simple: you can do anything you want to for 38 hours…except talk or acknowledge one another. Sleeping, reading, running, journaling, napping, slack lining, writing letters…anything was fair game as long as it involved zero talking. The idea behind not smiling/acknowledging one other during silent retreat was simply because you don’t know what another person is thinking or wrestling with at any given moment. You don’t know what train of thought you could be disrupting by giving them a pat on the back or a smile. We were all a bit skeptical of the whole thing at first, but the experience was one of my favorite parts of orientation. I finally had the chance to process every handout I’d read and conversation I’d had. I ran and wrote and talked to God. I sat on the back porch, rocking in an oversized white wooden rocking chair, and watched squirrels climb skillfully up the trees and boaters enjoy lake recreation. What stuck with me most from silent retreat was the power of experiencing silence in a communal environment. Even though we didn’t exchange glances or words for two days, I felt a deep sense of community – we were experiencing this silence together. When we finally broke the silence, the group felt closer, in a deeper way than we had been before.

Sometimes, I liken silence to a really good stretch after a hard run. You know it’s gonna hurt if you lean into the stretch…but you also know that it’ll feel really good a few seconds later. It’s the same thing with silence – you know that it will hurt a bit in the beginning, but if you lean into it past the pain, it’ll be exactly what your soul needs, and you’ll be better and stronger because of it.

With this renewed spirit, we jumped into the second week of orientation with enthusiasm and brains ready to soak up knowledge. I had the chance to write a mini theology of mission, basically why I’m doing what I’m doing. I wrote something along the lines of: I come to FSM with the posture of Jesus – to sit, listen, and learn. I want to engage with the culture via my host family and my students. I come to offer my skills as an educator (and become a better teacher in the process) and do what the Jesuits and Pohnpei Catholic School ask of me rather than implement new American programs or what I think the school might need. I seek to serve out of my abundance and give in a sustainable way, finding joy in the challenges and teaching my students to do the same. More than I want to give my students the education they deserve, I want to show them that they are loved, capable, and cared for. 

I am now officially on island in Pohnpei! It is beautiful and lush beyond my wildest dreams. I have so much to learn and see and take in. I'm so thankful for my second years Brittany, Kristen, and Meredith who are taking me under their wings and teaching me the ropes. I have a week of in-country orientation (including a visit to my host family next weekend!) before 2 weeks of prep at school before starting with students. It is so, so wild to actually be here. I think being brave in this way (committing to 2-years of volunteering in a foreign country) came easy to me because I’ve got my priorities and heart straight. I know why I’m doing it. Because it’s God’s calling for my life – where my deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger collide. Teaching at PCS and being here with JVC feels like the best way for me to step out of my comfort zone to love & serve the world right now. And that doesn’t mean that it’ll be easy, but it does mean it’s worth it. Here's to experiencing a million new things with an open mind and allowing myself to fall in love with life here in Pohnpei.

"Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything." Fr. Pedro Arrupe

The Adventure Begins

Kaselehlie! [Ka-sa-leh-lia, meaning hello]

My JVC journey has finally begun! I am currently sitting in the airport waiting a few extra hours for my delayed flight to take me to Scranton, Pennsylvania. What might I be doing in Scranton? JVC International Orientation, of course! Two weeks of time (mostly) cut off from the rest of the world for all of the new JVC international volunteers to meet each other, learn about international service, and prepare our hearts to make the most of this incredible opportunity. JVC sends volunteers to 6 international locations and I can't wait to meet everyone. There are actually 3 different JV communities in FSM (one on Pohnpei and two on Chuk), so all 6 of us new volunteers will hang out a bunch at orientation and fly together to FSM on July 24th.

This is happening, and I couldn't be more excited. Woo.

As of now, I also don't have a cell phone! So, if you text me I sadly will not get it. But fear not, there are many ways to reach me!

Email: ehagenfsm14@gmail.com or ehagen@westmont.edu

Facebook/Instagram (emilyhagen)

Here, on this blog!

Or (and this is my favorite)...good old fashioned snail mail! Want to send me a letter? Really love me and want to send me and my community mates a flat rate box full of love? You totally can! I still don't really know why, but praise God that the Federated States of Micronesia is on the US Postal System. Slap a normal American stamp on a letter or pay normal American price for a flat rate box (must be a flat rate box or I'll never see it...), put my address on that baby, and it'll get to me in 2-3 weeks!

You can find me at:

Emily Hagen
Jesuit Volunteers
PO Box 160
Pohnpei, FM 96941

And if you write to me I promise to write you back!

Thank you so much for the support and love. I feel so, so, so supported as I embark on this adventure and so, so, so loved. I do not go to FSM alone, you're all goin' with me, and I couldn't be happier.

Here's to adventure and growth, to being totally out of my comfort zone but perfectly safe in the palm of God's hand, exactly where I am supposed to be.

Wonderfully Overwhelmed

Before I share more about the past few weeks, I want to share some other exciting news. I am over halfway funded in my Send Me to Serve campaign!! A giant thank you to those of you who have committed to taking this journey with me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. We are going to the Federated States of Micronesia together, and I’m so grateful you’re joining me. I’d invite all of you to consider coming to FSM with me. Whatever you have to give – your prayers, a few minutes to read blog updates, letters (I’ll share my address soon!), or financial support. By supporting me in any of those ways, you are coming to Micronesia with me. All financial support can be given through 

https://jesuitvolunteers.myetap.org/fundraiser/sendmetoserve/individual.do?participationRef=37.0.1166235701

                                                       ~~~~~

My first seven weeks of life as a college grad have been spent in 8 different countries, sleeping in 10 different beds, and trying to learn phrases of a few too many languages.

The day after graduation I loaded up my little blue car and moved home, only to spent the next few days deep cleaning my room and all of my earthly possessions through the lens of “I won’t have this for 2 years. Do I really need it when I come home?” Cleaning out every nook and cranny of the room I’ve lived in for 19 years was both a good trip down memory lane and an eye-opening reminder – I won’t see this place for 2 whole years. Cue every emotion known to man flooding my little heart. I’ve felt it all the past few weeks and I’ve tried to let each emotion resonate – giving them the time that they deserve in center stage before the next one moves in from stage left. Bittersweet goodbyes, deep joy, laughter making me double over in tears. I’ve been humbled, I’ve sweated through physical labor, I’ve studiously learned the history of Eastern Europe; I’ve been reminded how big God is and just how much I have to learn about the world (which is a lot!).

After getting my home affairs in order I hopped on a plane to Europe and have spent the past 5 weeks in Germany, Norway, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria, and Romania. Woo. 7 very different countries. This trip has felt like a million different experiences – and none of them your typical vacation – all in one.

First, a friend and I spent time living and working with a Christian couple in a tiny, tiny town in Eastern Germany. After a whirlwind 2 days in Berlin we touched down in so-beautiful-it-takes-your-breathe-away Norway, spending 2 weeks with Elizabeth’s extended family all over that incredible country. They showed us the real Norway – from kayaking through the fjords to enjoying Norway’s best seafood, and I’ve never felt such deep, honest hospitality in my whole life.

Next, if you can keep up, I met my family in Budapest, Hungary for a river cruise through Eastern Europe. To call these past 2 weeks in Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria, and Romania eye opening, humbling, and confusing doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. The history of Eastern Europe is still so new and so fresh. Some wounds these countries carry are healing nicely, but others still need a little TLC and a band-aid. Or possibly some stitches. I’ve finally learned the history that we never got around to in my 17 years of public and private education - communism, former Yugoslavia, dictators, the whole nine yards. While at ‘Senior Citizen Summer Camp’ (my fond nickname for spending 2 weeks on a river cruise with 150 grandparents) we studied the economy, the EU, and the issues these countries are facing today from the perspective of local guides, students, pastors, and our ship’s crew members.

Complicated. That’s what I’ve decided the history of Eastern Europe is: complicated. And in the midst of all this learning and seeing, I’ve been trying to prepare for the next big adventure – coming up so, so soon.

In exactly one month I leave for Micronesia. One month. Woah.

Thirty days and I will start the long journey to FSM. 36 hours of plane rides and an 18 hour time change. Two days later and I’ll touch down in Pohnpei…and the craziness will begin – I’ll have just a few days of orientation and preparation before I start teaching at Pohnpei Catholic School! I’ve heard whispers that I could possibly be teaching 7^th grade this year and 8^th grade my second year (essentially moving up with my students to the next grade), but I won’t know for sure until I get there.

One of the best parts about traveling this summer is the opportunity to share my passion for teaching overseas as a Jesuit Volunteer with so many people in so many countries. One person at a time, I’m sharing my vision. One person at a time, I’m sharing where the heck this little country is and what exactly I’m doing there. All of my new old lady friends are positively tickled that I’m doing this and are convinced that I’m going to have the best time ever. The positive responses I’ve gotten from complete strangers about my decision to step out in faith has helped quench the fear and nerves that bubble to the surface every so often. The fear of living life in another country, on the complete opposite side of the world from family and friends, in an entirely different culture than the one I've grown up in, for two whole years. That fear sometimes plagues my heart like a child plagued by the very real fear of monsters living in her room. But, just like the kind parent that opens the closet door and checks under the bed for monsters, people’s enthusiasm and support has reminded me in my moments of fear that this decision was the right one. The best one I could have made at this point in my life.

This jumbled mass of thoughts you’ve just read should explain why I’m wonderfully overwhelmed. Wonderfully because I’ve gotten to see so much of the world the past few weeks – and not only see, but dig into the nitty-gritty details we often push under the rug – and see it with friends and family that I love by my side. Overwhelmed because this history just hits my heart so deeply. You can’t come here, sit down, and hear someone share about how the Nazi’s invaded Norway when they were in high school, or how the Communists tried to start brainwashing their precious baby straight out of the womb, or how bombs exploded in 1991 and annihilated 90% of someone’s hometown – and not be moved. Overwhelmed because I have so little time at home and so much to do before leaving for FSM. Overwhelmed because I want to prepare in the best possible way for all that God has challenged me to do in Micronesia, but don’t know what that looks like. Overwhelmed by warm smiles and kind words filled with love and support from friends and strangers alike.

Wonderfully overwhelmed.

The Next Step

In 90 days, I’ll bid America adieu for 2 whole years and start my journey across the Pacific. My final destination? The island of Pohnpei of the Federated States of Micronesia. This island contains a wealth of biodiversity and boasts an annual rainfall of 300+ inches. Pair temperatures that stay between 73 and 90 with high humidity year round and I’m preparing for 2 sticky, tropical years.

I’ll be teaching with the Jesuit Volunteer Corp at an elementary school in the capitol city. I’ll be living in an apartment on the Jesuit compound with 3 other JVs (Jesuit Volunteers) who’ve already been in Pohnpei a year. They’ll show me the ropes and we’ll all live together for a year before they head back to the States. At that point, I’ll welcome three new volunteers to the island and help them get acquainted. This offers us community and support, two essential elements if our service is going to be effective and we’re not going to burn out in the process.

I’ve always wanted to teach internationally – the only question was a matter of when and where. Now, I have a when and a where, which is both terrifying and exciting. As I’ve shared the news with friends and family lately, many people have told me some variation of, “I’m so proud of you for your faith and courage traveling so far away from home for so long.” I appreciate their words of affirmation, but I really can’t take much credit. We are all unique beings, and I truly believe this was one thing that I was made to do. I love teaching. I love immersing myself in new cultures. I love opening myself up to others - listening, watching, learning, giving others a voice. This is one of the most challenging and beautiful experiences I could ever say yes to, and I truly believe that this is where my deep gladness will meet the world’s deep need.

This does not mean it will be easy – living as an outsider in a foreign country means being ok with not always understanding what's going on and rarely having any answers. I’m not there to solve any problems, though. I (hope to) come with an open heart where others can come and go, with ears that listen more than a mouth that speaks, and diligent fingers that enable me to share these stories with the larger world. I don’t want to observe human beauty, an incredible culture, or human pain from a distance – I want to get up to my elbows in it.

Because I’ve learned over and over again that you’ll never regret investing in God’s bigger picture. He needs His people in every workplace, in every school, and in every country living for His glory and not our own. I’m thankful to be a part of that in a country that, 4 months ago, I couldn’t even point out on a map and I'm excited for you all to partner with me on this journey.

The Home Alone Diaries

Written June 22nd:

I’ve spent the past 19 days with my dog, home alone and holding down the fort while my parents went gallivanting through Europe for their 30^th wedding anniversary. Considering I spent all last fall gallivanting through Europe, and considering it’s a pretty great accomplishment to stay married to someone for 30 years, I sent them off with much excitement. They were visiting some places I’d been to in the fall (Rome, Cinque Terre, Pisa) and I LOVED that we shared that, that I knew exactly where they were going. I could picture the view in front of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, picture the Crayola-colored houses of Cinque Terre, picture the baptistery and church in Pisa that never make it into the pictures, but are right there next to the leaning tower. So, I waved them out of the driveway with a “have fun! Be adventurers! Don’t worry about a thing, I won’t burn the house down!”

Commence home alone experience. You really find out what kind of person you are when you live all alone in a big ole’ house for a few weeks. Can you roll over and nod off when you hear creaking around the house, or are you more the axe-wielding type? I thought I’d be the latter, but it turns out I’m the former. I’d made a plan that, worse comes to worse, I’d fend off an intruder with the nearest heavy object - which turned out to be either a Bible or a handheld vacuum cleaner. But never once did I roam the house, vacuum in one hand, phone in the other ready to dial 911. 

Being alone, still, and silent for extended periods of time is something we as a society are afraid of, I think. We stick earbuds in and crank up the volume, scared of what thoughts we might have to face in the silence, what person or question might come to mind if we take a second to let ourselves be still. What a paradox it is that the sound of silence can be louder than the noisiest of crowds. I struggle with this as much as the next person, but the perfect opportunity was placed before me (story of my life this summer, but more on that another day) to spend some time in silence and solitude, and I chose to say yes, to say thank you, opportunity, for knocking at my door. Let’s see what you’re made of.

Opportunity knocked. Responsibility called. And I answered. Student, preschool teacher, athlete, repairwoman, exterminator, gardener, chef extraordinaire, chief of security, dog walker, pool girl. Phew, it’s been quite the few weeks. Being the sole Hagen in El Dorado Hills taught me a lot about myself and the people that surround me. I need both my fingers and my toes to count how many people came over to visit, skyped with me, called me to check in, and told me ‘if you need ANYTHING, you call us.’ To have that kind of community – I am thankful, my heart is full.

My home alone routine?

Dinner Dates: Every night I chose who I wanted to eat dinner with – Richard Castle, TED Talks, Sister Bertrille, the opportunities were endless. I also learned that I’ll eat a whole lot of broccoli for dinner – just broccoli – and then wonder why I’m starving 2 hours later. Duh, Emily. Protein, gotta work on that.

No one was there to stop me, so I baked cookies and cobblers at 11 pm. I hosted concerts for my dog every night while doing the dishes, belting out the tunes like nobody's business.

My lawn mowing skills improved from mowing like a drunken sailor to mowing like a sober person (yay progress!). I almost fell in the pool while checking the pool chemicals. How embarrassing, I can’t believe I’m even sharing that.

Ant Invasion: I fended off a few hundred ants in an ant invasion in the laundry room like a boss. Those ants didn’t know what hit them. They won’t be messing with Emily Hagen anytime soon, I'll leave it at that.

Full days led to full nights. I didn't live monk-status for 19 days, but I made sure the TV wasn't always on. I gave my mind time to wander, my heart time to search, my feet the chance to walk and explore, my eyes the chance to open and see the world anew.

It’s easy to be scared when you’re alone, to be scared that no one cares, that everyone else is at some great party that you didn’t get invited to. It’s easy to push the silence away with the touch of a button, refusing to slow down, refusing to listen, refusing to face the questions or feelings we’ve been running from all along. There’s something about silence, about being alone, that is both wonderful and terrifying.

There exist two types of silences, I think. The cold, lonely silence and the rich, filling silence. One leaves you feeling small and empty inside. The other, satisfied and comforted.

We were meant to live in community, of that I am more than certain. But, in one of the great paradoxes of life, it is equally important to stand on your own two feet, to silence your own racing heart, to be comfortable in your own skin and to own the silence. 

I am learning. More and more.

To be comfortable in who I am I must remember whose I am. Ephesians 2, anyone?

The silence I felt was incredibly filling, incredibly rich. It felt full, this silence, full and thick with possibility and wonder and growth. The world is a big, big place. There are places to go, things to do, people to meet and share life with. There are callings to be found, adventures to be had. It’s a big world, and the future is very bright.

In Home Alone Kevin McAlister says, “This is my house and I have to defend it!” That boy knows what's up, he wraps up my feelings in one dramatic sentence. The home is still standing. I am alive. The dog is alive. Success.

Over and out from the Hagen household. As much as I enjoyed my sojourn living alone, I’m grateful to have some company back in this house...and some pesto and pasta from Cinque Terre just waiting to be cooked.

It’s 105 degrees in the shade here. I hope it’s cooler wherever you’re at, friend. Thanks for sticking with my ramblings this long, you're a champ.

Here’s to you and to me, to finding who we are and whose we are. And to answering the door with joy and grace, even when you don’t know what’s knocking.