On Island Habitations

I feel like I'm finally adjusted to live on Kwaj.  I've been here for a little over two weeks now and sort of have a routine.  My work schedule isn't set in stone yet, so once that happens I will be able to really get into a daily routine.  Though knowing myself, I will always find a reason to prevent that from happening.  Now it is because my work schedule isn't set.  Once that is set it will be because my pack out isn't here yet and I don't have things I need.  But I want to get in to a routine and have that stability.

The actual island is very interesting.  Each section of the island invokes different feelings for me.  It's sort of separated out into different zones.  Starting on the north part of the island, you have the domes.  These 1960's mid century modern looking domes look like if an ant and a tic-tac had a baby and you lived inside of that baby.... I have yet to go inside one, but I have met some folks who live in them.  They are apparently quite spacious, with the one my coworker lives in large enough to have three bedrooms and two full bathrooms.

As you move south on the island, you come to a few blocks of residential housing.  Housing is reserved for people with specific job titles.  There are several different companies working on the island in addition to the military.  I don't know if this is 100% accurate, but I was told if you're at the director level or higher in my company, you're entitled to a house.  The houses come in two different types.  There are the two story homes that look like boxes stacked on top of one another, or the larger ranch style houses.  Again, I haven't been in a house yet, but I am fine where I am now because the folks living in the houses don't have access to the dining facility.  They have full kitchens so they are expected to cook for themselves.  I'm sure after several weeks of the dfac food I will look forward to when a friend with a house invites me over for a home cooked meal, but as of now not having to cook or clean up after is a gift from god.

Separating the housing from the Bachelor Quarters is the child care center and the elementary school.  The Teen center where I work and high school are located on the northern side of the island, closer to the domes.  You also have Surfway, the only grocery store on the island creating that geographic separation.

I haven't had the need to buy food for myself yet as I have no way to prepare any food in my room, nor do I have any plates, cups or utensils to eat said food with, but I did check out the grocery store just to see what it's like.  It is an odd place.  Because I have most of the creature comforts of home, it's easy for me to forget that I am 4,500 miles away from the US mainland and that we rely on boats and planes to bring us literally everything we need on the island.  Going to Surfway with a friend, I was advised that if I see any food I particularly enjoy, I should hoard it because though we may have it now, we could easily go months without a resupply of that particular item.

The store itself is about half the size of the average CVS in the states.  There are shelves that are fully stocked with things I would never eat and shelves that are completely empty, with only the tags taunting you that you were too late to get the things you want.  Produce comes in twice weekly so you have to time your visits right to make sure you can get the best items before the fluff (the plus ones who don't work but live on the island) get there and take it all.

The pricing of the food is relatively inexpensive to start, but that may be just because I'm comparing it Washington, D.C. prices.  However, when the food gets closer to the expiration date, the have fire sales where they mark it down 75% or more.  If you like hamburger helper, you can stock up for $.45 a box.

By far the best part of the grocery store is the free delivery to your home or BQ.  Typically you tip them $1 per bag, but it is well with it, especially if you don't have baskets on you bike and/or live on the second or third floor of your BQ.  I happen to have no baskets on my borrowed bike and I live on the third floor... I'll gladly spend a few bucks for the convenience.

As you continue moving south on the island, you come to the land of the Bachelor Quarters.  This is where anyone who is unaccompanied or not entitled to a house will live.  Each BQ has its own flavor.  I haven't been in a ton of them, but the layouts of the rooms are slightly different depending on your building.  I am fortunate in that I live in a building where the rooms were originally built to accommodate two people.  Because of that I have extra lighting and two walk in closets.  I have more storage than I know what to do with right now.  I'm sure once all of my stuff is shipped here I will change my tune, but either way its fantastic.  I have one closet for clothes and one for my dive gear and dry storage.

My room itself isn't particularly grand or special, but it is large.  There is an alcove along the back wall that faces the interior courtyard, against which my bed sits.  I have a six drawer dresser, small coffee table and chair and a desk that comprise my living area.   I need to call the furniture warehouse and see if I can get another dresser.  I'm also debating if I want to try to find a couch for my room.  A friend who lives down the hall has a sectional in his room that makes it feel incredibly cozy.

The room is probably twenty by twenty, with the two walk in closets separated by a wet bar.  I have a mini fridge provided or me, and there is a cubby for a microwave should I want one.  Again, not super inclined to purchase one because the more opportunity I have to cook in my room, the more food I'll be eating in my room.  Not only would that slow my weight loss but also increases the opportunity for ants to become my roommates.... And they don't wait for an invitation.

The bathroom is a modest one with a small sink and toilet, as well as stand up shower.  While there isn't a ton of counter space, the medicine cabinet does allow me to store everything I need.  I am hoping to find an over the toilet shelving unit at some point.

I did receive my first amazon order already, which was nice because I had ordered a new shower head.  It makes all the difference in the world, one because I know it is a clean shower head and two I can change the water pressure from a trickle to a firehose.  And considering how much sunscreen I need to wear here, it's nice to be able to pressure wash my skin to get that off after a day in the pool/ocean.

I am really excited for my pack out to arrive because I have my king bed on its way.  I'll have more than enough space for it to fit along with the desired furniture.  I also ordered some lighting fixtures for the room.  The florescent lighting, while functional, may not be the most flattering.  I also plan on making a hanging light feature from drift wood I collected and some remote controlled soft LED lights I have coming in my pack out as well.

Overall I was pleasantly surprised by my living accommodations.  I throughly enjoy my room and love my building.  My window looks west which means I get to see the sunset every night.  I may not have the ocean view like those on the other side of the hall, but I'll take a good sunset silhouetting the coconut palms every night over the occasional sunrise I will be too tired to thoroughly enjoy.

I'll write about the practical places a little bit later, but hopefully this gives a solid idea of the living conditions on the island!

On The Voyage

I've been on this island for two weeks as of today.  There are some things that I won't be able to write about because the nature of my job and the nature of the island, but those things are actually just a minor part of my experience here.  

One of the most interesting I've noticed so far is that no one from DC has reached out to me to see how I'm doing.  I've talked to quite a few people there, but it's always because I check in on them.  I am not upset or angry or even saddened by this.  The last few weeks of my time in DC sort of prepped me for that.  I also think social media has a large part to play in this.  I have posted some picture and shared some statuses explaining how happy I am to be here, so people may not feel a need to reach out.  They think they have the full idea of how I'm doing.  But as anyone who has ever posted on social media knows, we only post our best selves.  

This entry will be sort of a reflection on the physical journey to get here.  I left DC on a Sunday to head to Texas, where I would attend a training (we had to do a bunch of online modules) and get a physical/have some blood drawn.  I would be in Texas from Sunday night to Tuesday morning, after which time I would fly to Honolulu for an evening before making the sojourn to Kwajalein.  

My time in Texas was uneventful until one of my best friends semi-surprised me.  She happens to be from the Dallas/Fort Worth area and her brother happened to be getting married the weekend after I was there.  So when I texted her, she and her husband rearranged their plans to drive up earlier to have one last dinner with me before I left.  They took me to this fantastic open air Mexican restaurant that serves nothing but fajitas and enchiladas.  Anyone who knows me knows that true Mexican food is among my absolute favorite foods in the world, and as much as I may want California to hold up the gauntlet for northern mesoamerican cuisine, I must acquiesce that Texas is the new title holder.  We caught up, laughed and took some pictures.  It is friends like these that remind me how loved I am.

After being overstuffed with cheesy goodness, they dropped me off at my hotel.  I do use the term hotel loosely though.  One of the first things that the trainer said to us in our training was that women should not be in the back parking lot alone and if gentlemen decided to go to the strip club (that was within walking distance), they should be on the lookout for the pimps following them to the hotel because a few weeks ago one of the candidates for deployment was beaten up and robbed while grabbing a smoke in the middle of the night. 

That notwithstanding, I went upstairs and got a good nights sleep.  I had to be in the lobby at 5:00AM the following day to get to the airport to make the flight to Denver before heading to Honolulu.  

I should mention that I made this trip from Dallas to Kwaj with a future coworker.  He and I made it to the airport with some time to spare, so we took advantage of my lounge access and grabbed the free hot breakfast at the American Express Centurion Lounge at DFW.  It was pretty cool, though I was a little sad I was there too early to take advantage of the free massages and manicures they offer. However, I did have a few mimosas to calm my nerves before the flight.

Getting to Denver was no big deal.  Fortunately the United pilot knew how to land the aircraft gently, unlike the American Airlines pilot that basically slammed the plane down as hard as he could on the runway at DFW.  I made a call to my grandmother and my mom, letting them know I was on my way!  It was sort of weird calling my mom from DEN when she was only an hour away, knowing I wouldn't see her for a long time.  

I made the decision to upgrade my seat from economy to first class on the flight from Denver to Honolulu.  I can safely say that was probably the best decision I have made in the last month.  I was able to lay flat and actually get sleep.  I watched some TV, ate the surprisingly edible food United served me and didn't feel insanely tired when I landed in Hono.  

While at the airport, my coworker and I had little direction from our employer as to where to go or what to do.... So after waiting about fifteen minutes, we realized we needed to go to the shuttle counter and order our own since no arrangements were made for us.  Not a big deal.  But then we waited around for an hour until a shuttle would take us to our hotel.

Fortunately, our hotel was in Waikiki.  At check in, I was talking to the incredibly friendly front desk agent and let her know it was our first time in Hawaii (only sort of true, but it was my first time in over twenty years) and that I owned a travel agency back in DC.  She gave us both complimentary upgrades to higher floors and a room with a king bed. 

When I landed in HI, I opened up FB and saw that an old coworker from my last job before starting my company was also in Honolulu.  Turns out she was staying at a hotel about a quarter of a mile away from me.  So I texted her and she was free for dinner!  We grabbed drinks and burgers at Dukes on Waikiki beach.  We caught up about all of the things that happened in our lives over the last two years.  She had gotten married, switched jobs a few times and was doing really well.  I hadn't really had much happen in my life save for this new adventure. 

But it was a surreal moment.  I had said my goodbyes to the people in my life when I left DC.  I wasn't expecting to see anyone in Dallas let alone Hawaii.  But I am so thankful and happy that I got to see people along my trip to my new home.

We had another early morning the following day, so I think I was asleep by 9:00pm.  When we arrived to the airport the next day at 5:00AM, the first thing that struck me was how open air the entire airport was.  I guess that you can do that when your average temperature doesn't get below 72˚F.  

We checked in for our flight and headed over to the gate area.  It was under construction and there wasn't much sitting room, but my coworker and I found a spot and hunkered down.  I asked the gate agent about another upgrade and she let me know I was first on the list.  Having status on United finally paid off because I was able to snag a business class seat from Hawaii to Kwajalein through our stopover in Majuro.  It was a long flight but no longer than flying DC to LA so I was comfortable.  

I didn't get off the plane in Majuro but some folks did.  I had wifi on the plane and a window seat so it was easier to stay on board than climb over the gentleman next to me.  

After about twenty minutes, folks re-boarded and we were off to Kwajalein!  

On Moving to the Middle of Nowhere

My journey to this island has been interesting.  I was recruited by a friend of mine through California Youth & Government.  I remember messaging her saying I wanted to come visit and asking how that was possible. She told me, but she also told me I could come work on the island.  I laughed at that idea.  I had my own business in Washington, D.C. that was thriving, and while going to live on a tropical island far away from the cares of the world sounded wonderful, it wasn’t realistic.

The more I saw of her life via photos on the island, the more I entertained the idea of actually moving here.  It wasn’t until late July of 2018 that I listen to my gut and told her I wanted to apply for whatever position at which she thinks I would excel.  

I am not a religious man.  In fact, I really don’t like organized religion.  But, and I’m sorry for the lazy writing, but I truly do feel my life has been blessed.  I have been at the right place at the right time too many times in my life to make it just coincidence.  Yes, there is a fair amount of privilege in that sentence.  Of that I am well aware.  However, ever decision that has led me to be here has been because I made the right choice with the decision before that, and before that, and before that. I’m not saying there is a God or a god that has intervened in my life, but I fully believe the universe was telling me to seize this opportunity, as it had in the past with other choices.

See, in May of 2018, after returning from Munich and Rome, where my grandmother unfortunately broke her hip and we had to return via air ambulance, I take a few steps in to my room and the carpet squishes under my foot. I’m still unsure what exactly happened in my three weeks away, but that room was uninhabitable.  Fortunately, I could sleep in the second bedroom in my apartment.  That is, until one fateful night in July when the downspout along the side of my house broke and the water drained right in to the window well of the room where I was sleeping.

After that night, I moved in to a hotel for a few weeks.  While there, I realized that I needed a change in living quarters.  My apartment was and is a fantastic gem in one of DC’s most iconic and historic neighborhoods, but I knew the universe was telling me to find something else.  And the more I took stalk of my life, the more I realized that I really did want to move to an island 7,000 miles away from the life I had built and with which I had come to be familiar. 

I interviewed with my friend who was on island, and two women who would, as I found out today in my training, would be my direct supervisor and her boss. The interview was short and I felt confident.  Later my friend told me they had made up their mind to hire me after the first question. 

There were several organizational changes going on on Island so I knew it would be a little while before I got here.  I didn’t think it would take almost five months, but it was out of my hands. 

Eventually I would make my way to Texas for a company orientation, physical and to have some blood drawn.  After about 36 hours in Texas, I was on my way to an Island in the middle of the south pacific.  I knew it was an adventure I that would change me.  I am still not sure how it will, but every time I’ve done something like this, I have come back a humbler, more appreciative, and more confident person.

The folks I’ve met here have been so welcoming.  My team threw a welcome barbeque the evening I arrived (I arrived with another person who is working in my department) to introduce themselves to us. My direct supervisor met us at the airport and spent the afternoon showing us around the island.  She also checked on both of our rooms to make sure they were in the proper habitable conditions (which if she hadn’t done, may not have been the case).  

I think the reason I am not overwhelmed by loneliness or a sense of the sheer change I have just made is because I feel supported.  When I moved to Nice for a summer in high school, I was shipped off to France without knowing a single person on the continent.  When I moved to Paris, I knew a few more people in Europe, but was still incredibly overwhelmed by the magnitude of the city, of the fact I wouldn’t be coming home for months.  But not moving here.  I have a routine, I have housing, I have a steady source of food (that I don’t have to cook myself).  I can start enjoying this gift I have been given from day one.  I don’t need to waste my time stressing.

I have high hopes for my time on the island.  

On New Years Eve

Upon reflection, New Years Eve is an excellent metaphor for my overall experience in Washington, D.C.  

For the last several years a friend from the chorus would host a New Years party.  It was one of the first social events I attended as a new member of the chorus.  I remember thinking how much fun it was to celebrate New Years with such a wonderful group of people.  I've always had high expectations for New Years Eve, only to never have it turn out as I would have liked.  Whether it was the New Years Eve house party in high school I had to take a taxi to because I wasn't old enough to drive and no one in my family was around to drive me, or the time that I went to dinner with my Dad and Step mom only to be in bed by the time the ball dropped.  

Well, after reaching out to the friend who usually hosted the party, I learned he wasn't doing it this year.  I totally understood and was thinking of what I'd do on New Years now, as I didn't have any plans.  I had talked with another friend and wanted to spend the evening with him.  I even changed my flight coming back to DC earlier so I would be able to ring in the new year with him, knowing it would likely be one of the last times I would hang out with him.  

I decide to throw my own.  I did this for a few reasons.  The first is I hadn't had a chance to host my cookie exchange this year, so why not do it on New Years Eve?  Secondly,  I am not a fan of packed bars and overpriced cocktails.  I've always enjoyed house parties far more than going out.  And thirdly, if I didn't plan a party, I wasn't sure I'd actually have any plans that night. 

I wasn't aware of any other conflicting parties that night and wanted to see as many people as I could, so I started my party early.  I said folks could start dropping by as early as 5:00PM.  A few did, though knowing DC and knowing gays, I wasn't really expecting a majority of people until 6pm or later.  And to my delight, my house was crowded with wonderful friends starting around then.  

But I knew it wasn't going to last until midnight, though I had originally hoped it would.  Earlier that day, I received an invitation for a New Years Eve party that was being hosted by another chorus member and his boyfriend.  I knew that my party wouldn't be able to compete with theirs, as a few people had changed the RSVP on FB from attending to Maybe, only to have their RSVP reflect Yes on the new invite.  

So I messaged one of the hosts.  I asked when they decided to host their party.  After a few minutes, he responded saying it was relatively recently.  I expressed my disappointment that they were hosting a competing party the same night as mine, as I was hoping to host people through the ball drop.  He made some platitude, expressing that their timing wasn't malicious and that he hoped I'd be able to come.  

So 9:30PM on New Years Eve rolls around.  We had run low on alcohol, so I called and ordered more.  I was happy to have my friends around me, celebrating new beginnings and hosting one last hurrah.  Thats when folks started saying their goodbyes.  I can't say I was surprised, but I was disappointed.  I was sad.  I was upset.  I wasn't enough.  They had another party to go to.  They wanted to go somewhere else to ring in the new year.

I was fortunate that not everyone left.  There were a few folks who arrived late and stayed later.  They folks who stayed weren't the folks I expected, but it was wonderful talking to them and spending time with them.  

But the part that hurt the most was the friend I had changed my plans for.  He arrived around 9:00PM (he had to work that day and has a long commute so I get he couldn't get there early), but he left my 10:00PM.  When I saw him get his parka, I was sort of surprised.  I asked if he was leaving and he said yes.  He was meeting one friend, and then going to meet another.  We had talked about our New Years plans pretty extensively and he hadn't mentioned that he had other stuff to do.  If I had known, I honestly would have just gone where he was going instead of planning a party at my house.  

The stragglers that stayed late were yawning by 11:15PM so they decided to pack up some of the cookies and head back to their houses.  I was alone on my bed and happened to see my computer clock flip from 11:59PM to 12:00PM.  

That's how I feel I'm leaving DC.  I don't think I am disliked.  In fact quite the opposite.  I feel like I am relatively appreciated when I'm there.  But I don't feel I will be missed when I'm gone.  I don't feel people will notice the lack fo my presence.  I have loved this city for all its given me.  I have enjoyed most of the relationships I've made.  But leaving has opened my eyes to how I am seen.  I am someone who is not sought out.  I am someone who is natural in the lives of his friends.  I am someone who would consider acquaintances friends, when the opposite would be true.  I am sad to leave DC this way.  But I'd rather leave DC thinking that I am liked than stay and realize that may not be the case.