Sefulutasi

The Pacific is a vast place. For the past several days my class sessions have not only opened my eyes to the diversity of languages, cultural groups, geographies, and appearances all present in the 20,000+ islands (and even more cultural groups) located across the vastness of the Pacific Ocean. Question 1: did you ever realize that the Pacific region covers over one third of our entire world? And yet it's the least acknowledged region for most Americans.
So I guess one word to describe my thoughts so far is bitter. I've learned more about the Pacific in the last four days than I've ever learned about any other region of the world. By far the most pressing issue is global climate change. Question 2: have you ever considered the direct, immediate effect global warming has on the people of the Pacific? Probably not, because I never had. One of the professors from the University of Hawai'i (where I'm staying) put it simply, there's no recognition of environmental refugees. Take the people of the Carteret Islands for example. Their islands are sinking...literally sinking. Covered by salt water from rising sea levels, land that was once optimal for raising crops like taro is no longer usable, causing these people to starve. Shipments of food and water come into the Islands, but what is the greater issue at hand? Carteret Islanders can no longer inhabit the land that has been occupied by their people for 3,000 years. This issue isn't a problem of future generations, this is here and now. We can talk about polar bears and deforestation, sure, but never before did I believe how most environmental activists evade this devastation.

What's most frustrating for me is the realization that I never knew (or tried to know) any of this before four days ago. To me, the Pacific was an ocean with some islands here and there. I'm quickly becoming enthralled with the complexity of the people and places this region harbors.

What's beautiful is that Pacific Islanders don't view the ocean as a barrier to communication; it's a super highway available to any who have the skill and persistance to navigate. Consider this: the coconut was introduced to Hawai'i by migrants; prior to the peopling of the Hawai'ian islands, there were no coconuts this far north in the Pacific.

Aside from these passionate ramblings, my time here has been filled with splendor. I haven't sat down for more than an hour at a time; my friends and I have gone hiking, beaching, or partying in Honolulu and Waikiki every day. I feel like my life is on fire. I have more energy than I have in years, which I attribute to the life-giving sun and the green mountains constantly in my view.
A quick run down on the activities I've been able to do: swam in the ocean at least once a day, hiked Manoa Falls, saw Pipeline (and Jack Johnson's house), bonded with a sea turtle, body surfed, went to a Chinese New Year festival, learned pieces of the Sāmoan language, learned a Māori dance to the song "Kapi oioi," and tasted more tropical fruits than I can name. And I'm not even in Sāmoa yet.

So as my friends and I like to say, sefulutasi. It's the word for the number eleven, but to us it has come to mean YOLO.