My travels to and arrival in Truk, Micronesia

March 31, 2013, 7:06 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

You will notice that I never spell Truk (or Truuk) the same way, that is because no one else does either. The spelling goes back and forth and generally both seem to be accepted.

From Honolulu, I took the “island hopper” to Truk, aka, the milk run. The cab driver in Honolulu had told me about the “cooler people” of Micronesia. This is not in fact a reference to their trendiness but more in relation to the fact that they travel with coolers, as luggage. They pretty much use anything for travel but suitcases. Some use them to carry clothes and supplies and some carry, well fish. And, the coolers smell like it.

Flying over the islands, I was surprised at the amount of turbulence. Often, there was no service because it wasn’t safe for the attendants to be up and about. The first leg of the milk run was 5.5 hours and landing was a new experience. The runway didn’t appear forever, the water kept getting closer and closer and it wasn’t until the last second that you could see the land. The planes come in very fast and then throw on the brakes jolting everyone forward because the runways are so short. The advantage, the islands are stunning from above and you can see all the beautiful colours and reefs surrounding them. From the first to second island was 1 hour 25 minutes and then to the third island was 56 minutes.

After this island was when I got to chatting to my neighbour, Eileen. She was a native of one of the islands and we had the most amazing conversation about what her life was like and what I could expect during my time in Micronesia. She was a career woman, who worked in mental health and drug counselling on the islands and her goal was to improve services amongst the islands of FSM (Federal States of Micronesia). During one of the stops, she had one of the guys behind us get off the plane to get me some local tangerines. They taste just like the tangerines we’re used to but they are green in colour. I was touched that she had been so thoughtful. She told me that all the islands have their own language but it is all similar enough that they can communicate with each other and most people speak english.

She took the time to warn me about my time in Truk. She said that because I was a white female that I had to be especially careful and it was not wise to venture out on my own. Drinking has had a negative effect on some of the population and she warned me that some men did not handle their liquor well.

Arriving in Truk was different. Everyone stared at me everywhere I went. I was always aware that there were many sets of eyes on me. I just tried to keep my head down and get into the van waiting to take me to my hotel as fast as possible. Everyone was very nice for the most part, more curious than negative in any way. The question from the beginning of this trip was the same until the end, “are you married?” and when I said no, they asked where my father or brother were. It was clear that they don’t come across many folks like me often.

Driving to the hotel, I was struck by the poverty. I wasn’t sure what I thought I was going to see but this is definitely a third world country. The rainy season had just ended and the road was a complete mess. We stopped at a store so I could get a cold drink for the drive and when I entered, it felt like the whole place stopped at what they were doing. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough but not without first grabbing a delicious can of fresh pineapple juice.

Stubs.