This Sunday started just like any other Sunday: the pastor's son was mowing the lawn with a weed whacker, the pastor's wife was sweeping the gravel road with a palm frond broom, and we were awoken early by a rooster crow. Little did we know that this Sunday (and Monday and Tuesday) would be a little darker than we expected.
It all started when we got the great idea to tromp through the jungle in search of Uncle Larry's taro plantation. With lofty thoughts of machete slashing and deep forest exploring, we set off on the trail. Not 20 feet in, as we sank waist deep in mud, we began to realize that the plantation was merely a swamp with sporadic taro plants growing in it, so we continued. A quarter mile and an hour later, we found dry ground. Standing before us was the most magnificent climbing tree. It was a conglomerate of thin vine like branches wound together to make a moss covered, matriarchal-esque giant. So, like any swamp wilderness explorer would do, took pictures and proceeded to explore the tree.
Monday morning we again were awoken early. This time it was not by a rooster but rather the local elementary school loudly broadcasting the same song on repeat (for hours). Since it was track and field day at the high school (6 miles away) they deemed it necessary to alert the entire village at 6 am. We attended the events and were delightfully pleased to experience a Kosraean celebratory dance. The dance consisted of a woman screaming and hollering while brutally smashing an umbrella on the ground (We have been told that sometimes the women from rival villages brutally fight on the track. Kosrae track and field day is better than ice hockey!). Unfortunately our village (Tafunsak) finished second overall for the first day.
Things started getting weird the next morning. At staff worship Pastor, with a very sincere and concerned look on his face, asked, "Did you boys sleep okay last night? The tree that you climbed on Sunday has an omen that visits there. It is a very old legend on the island.". We had not only visited a "haunted" tree, but we had climbed and explored it as well. Later that afternoon BeeWee, one of the pastor's sons, told us that the reason Lelu (pronounced lay-luh) had swept the field on Monday was because they had used black magic to win. He told us that one of their runners was "drug across the finish line as if against his will and ability by an invisible force". Sufficiently creeped out, i said a quick prayer for our protection (although i don't believe in "haunted" things, i do believe in demonic forces that can cause the effects of "haunting" as well as black magic).
As we gathered around the dinner table later that night, the feint noise of celebrations could be heard. BeeWee came running to our apartment ecstatic. Tafunsak had beat Lelu on day two of track and field and had earned enough points to win the overall. Following dinner i stepped into the bedroom and was overcome with terror. The celebrations had turned from cheerful and lighthearted whoops and hollers to terrifying screeches and howls. The shrieks echoed through the swamp behind our building creating the illusion of a jungle alive with demon possessed warriors celebrating a raid on a neighboring tribe.
A few (many) prayers for protection were said that night as i lay in bed (knife nearby) trying to sleep. It was a wild night of dreams and restless sleep, but i awoke no longer afraid, confident in God's protection.
Updates: We have reached the 15 day mark without drinking a coconut, the withdrawal symptoms are ruthless (mostly just dehydration). We have a new surf spot that is deep even at low tide. Thanksgiving is only a week away! Don't take for granted anything that you have, there is someone, somewhere, wishing they had what you have (but by all means, enjoy the things you've been blessed with). Coffee has replaced coconut water.
Pray without ceasing,
Tyler
Still praying for you and your father.
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