Why? I dunno. But they've been here for over a year, probably much longer. I tried to get some perspective shots so y'all can judge scale. But when I say OOG, you will in fact see stuff out of the ordinary.
Like many islands in the Pacific, it rains. Not Seattle rains-for-days rains. More Hawaii rains-for-five-minutes-then-clears-off rains. So I had a little trouble navigating today to find the one cell provider on Guam that sells the iPhone 4S. I'm not gonna lie; I want to see how funny this Sirri app will be once I start interacting with it, and my team mate (who is a little late to the party, but hereafter will be known as Tesla Pete) has finally convinced me that my CONUS crackberry (which will be shut off while I'm out here, but turned back on when I visit the US) is an outdated paperweight, and that I really should upgrade. Someone recently inadvertently convinced me that Android was not the way to go (thank you, beautiful), so I decided why the heck not.
I had no idea what I was getting into.
See, Guam for some reason doesn't see the point of street signs. I guess, if you've lived here your whole life, you develop some sort of preternatural navigational sense, like a homing pigeon or something. Suffice to say, yours truly has not developed said trait, and is instead looking for street signs.
Josh, why didn't you bring that ghetto-ass GPS unit of yours, you ask? Ah, see, I did. But without a special extra chip, it literally looks like I'm driving around on the Pacific Ocean, not the island. This should kick off several Messianic jokes as well as a few Lost quips; trust me, I've thought of em all.
So, three attempts, and I ended up driving about 40 miles with no luck. Come back to the hotel, look at the map again, and realize that Google was directing me from the wrong hotel, even though there's only one Hilton on the whole island. So, later today, when sane people are awake (it's 0500 here), we'll try it again.
Good news is that household goods are here middle of next month, so the realtor and I had a talk. The realtors here on the island apparently all have access to the same databases of available houses, condos, and apartments for sale and rent, so it really does just come down to who you like dealing with on a renter/buyer side of things.
We're in the midst of integrating with Boeing this month, too. I think I have become my supervisor and program manager's shared long distance migraine, and sadly, we're not even to the hard part yet. It was a lousy time for us to pull chocks and go, but any later, and we'd have been traveling during the holiday season, which would have been a total nightmare.
The hard part about being out here is the disconnectedness. The rest of your world is literally 12 or so hours behind you. It's Friday here, and almost time for breakfast. You guys are just coming back from lunch and it's Thursday there. Right now, with the jetlag, I'm able to run between the two time zones, and make them both work with some ad hoc power nappage. But soon, I know the division will settle in, and it's gonna be hard to participate as fully as I usually do with people I care about. That's the one big downside to this trip: that it is, in fact, partially an exile.
That being said, I'm making the most of it. The other evening, while going out for sushi, the bartender from the jazz bar downstairs saw me, recognized me from past trips, and welcomed me back. I think I've been in that place four times in total, maybe, but the guy took the time. And that's the thing about the locals here: they're Americans, without the jadedness.
Example 2: I was in K-Mart today (there is no Walmart, there is no Target, but we do have Macy's, Coach, and several other high end stores at the Duty Free Section and the Mall, so yeah, again, OOG), trying to pick up some essentials (TSA squashed my toothpaste all over my toiletries bag, nobody on this island brews regular iced tea, so I decided to brew my own, etc), and there were some US Marines visiting.
Now, I'm not sure if they were stumping for Toys For Tots, a program the Corps supports every year that brings toys to needy families to ensure better a Christmas, or whether they were on a recruiting drive, or what. But there were three marines, two men, one woman who might've originally been a local, wearing their best dress and looking sharp in a K-mart. And they were getting fairly well mobbed by well-wishers. Folks were asking to have their pictures taken with them (especially the possibly local girl, which is part of why I suspect her being a local). Young, old, didn't matter. They were speaking praise for these marines' service, and thanking them for that service.
Now, I'm not saying such things are dead in CONUS American culture. It's not. But back on the continent, I've seen military funerals protested. I've seen recruiters told to stay off campuses, when I myself was a college graduate who gladly enrolled and was thankful for my time in service, what it taught me, and what it allowed me to see and do. I've seen folks heckled for being in uniform.
It reminded me of my time in Alaska. A few of us had gone out to eat at the Pizza Hut in Eagle River, about ten minutes or so outside Anchorage. We went to pay the check for the four or five of us who had the buffet, and found that someone had paid it for us. A local walked up, the guy was definitely blue collar, hard-working, and probably didn't have much socked away in savings, but he said he wanted to show us his gratitude for our service. It wasn't political--to this day, I can't tell you if that guy leaned left or right--it was just a gesture from a grateful citizen. It was neighborly.
And I think that's part of the dichotomy here on Guam. Yes, they're a tourist trap: I've told most of you, it's cheaper for a Tokyo exec to pack the family off to Guam for a week and go golfing than it is to golf in most places on the home islands. There are strip clubs here, with real live American girls, which is a big thing for the tourists, as I understand it. Guam's economy lives on tourism.
But the people here, the people that really live here, they're some of the nicest ordinary folks I've met, on average. Helpful, eager, and willing to go the extra step without being asked.
Now, I'm not sure when someone ceases to be a visitor and becomes a local. It could be like Savannah, Georgia, where you're an outsider for years before people start to accept you even provisionally. I know of some locals hangouts, but I don't even know how people make friends around here, given the transitory nature of a large chunk of the largest city's population. So, there are challenges ahead, socially speaking. But wow, if there aren't fewer impediments, too.
So, I'll take the lack of street signs. I'll take a little rain everyday. But, wow. I'll take the rest, too.
There are some non-Guam things on my mind that are weighing me down a bit. Unfinished business that I guess is just getting tossed on a shelf. The hard part is, as someone said to me quite recently, "you're going to be on the other side of the world." That's the thing about the world we live in, though, ladies and gentlemen: it keeps shrinking. Sure, I gripe about the flight out here--you would, too, if you spent longer than a day in planes and terminals--but things like this blog or facebook or email or skype puts me right there, a mouse-click away. And for me, even a virtual presence is enough presence, if only for a time.
I hate to end on a maudlin note. So, tonight (tomorrow for folks that are paying attention), I'll try to catch the sunset beachside. A friend in Fairfax asked me to drink something fruity by the beach, so I figured I'd time it just so for her and get a pic. Maybe I'll catch dinner someplace nice, too. I mean, it is Friday over here, after all.
That's all I've got from where America's day begins. Til later.
Guam
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