DCStafford | 04 June, 2008 21:49
All things on the island seem to have a polar opposite literally around the corner. Run down, crowded, and polluted city roads lead to isolated white sand beaches that one would expect to find on the front of a postcard. A radio station plays gangsta rap on Saturday night and quirky church music on Sunday morning. A herd of wild mountain goats crosses the street and blocks traffic in front of the Louis Vuttion and Prada stores. Elderly Chamorro women in tribal garb order grilled stuffed burrito supremes at taco bell. Everywhere I turn there is a clash of cultures and a conglomeration of images that leave my neck sore from endless double-takes.
Not only has the island varied from one extreme to the other, but my first few days have also been somewhat of an emotional roller-coaster. I arrived very early Thursday morning and Peter Yao, my supervising attorney, picked me up from the airport and took me to my condo. Overall the accommodations are pretty good. The interior of the building could use a facelift, but it’s right on the beach and very near the court and restaurants. My 10th floor balcony overlooks the Pacific Ocean, making it hard to justify any complaints. Thursday was basically a travel recovery day. I went for a swim and read on the beach for about an hour. The rest of the day consisted of Sopranos reruns and catnaps.
Friday was my orientation day at work, and by far the most fun to date. Peter picked me up around 9:00am and took me to me to get my car, a 1991 Haundi that has already died and been traded in for a sweet minivan (more on that later). He then introduced me to the Justices, clerks, and administrative staff. The camaraderie was immediately apparent and I felt very welcomed by all. After taking care of administrative duties such as a local drivers license, passcodes to the Justices’ chambers, computer accounts, etc… the guys took me out to lunch at a local resort.
There are 4 full-time clerks, all males between the ages of 26 and 32. I had the feeling that I was initially being sized up, as the guys were curious about the guy they would be spending countless hours with over then next six weeks. I’m the only non-ivy-leaguer, non-lawyer, and the youngest, so some slight intimidation would have been in order. However, just being myself has generally worked for me in the past and it didn’t fail this time either. At the end of lunch, Jon, from Connecticut, said, “one of our biggest fears is that the incoming intern is going to be uptight and negative and spoil our little family, but I think we all agree that you aren’t that guy.” It was a compliment that still makes me smile coming from such neat guys.
Following lunch my initiation into the “fraternity” began. I was served a bowl of ice cream and told it was a local delicacy. I immediately knew something was up when I was the only one given a bowl. The dessert smelled wretched. It was made from milk and durian, a fruit native to Singapore that tastes like a mixture between rotten oranges and dirty feet. I’ll try anything once, so I played along and sucked it up, not wanting to get the “wimp” label from the get-go. It was bad, very bad. The worst part is the aftertaste; it lingers no matter how much coffee you drink or gum you chew. Avoid it like the plague. The hazing got better after that though. After work we went for happy hour at a beachside café, then moved on to an expat bar called Godfather’s for a hamburger, and ended up at place called Flair which is famous for bartenders blowing fire and tossing bottles around like acrobats at a circus. The guys wanted to take me to a variety of locales to give me a taste of what Saipan has to offer. I was very impressed to say the least.
Saturday came and the rollercoaster started rolling downhill. I was very excited about seeing many of Saipan’s famous sights, but my little sedan wouldn’t start and I couldn’t go anywhere. I guess a red flag should have gone up the day before when I discovered that three of the four doors wouldn’t open and the glove box wouldn’t stay closed. I went back inside and turned the TV on. Even though I would’ve probably been doing the same thing at home, homesickness set in because I had no one (LeeAnn specifically) to share the time with. I spent the better part of the day wishing I was with her back on my own comfy couch in Atlanta. I felt somewhat silly moping, seeing as though I was in one of the prettiest places I have ever seen, but it’s not nearly as special when you don’t have your pretty girl by your side.
Thankfully the rollercoaster started going back uphill on Sunday. I got my first good night of sleep and was able to swap the Haundi for a ’94 Toyota minivan. All of the doors open, the glove box stays closed, and the air-conditioning is frigid! I ventured to the mountainous north end of the island to explore Suicide Cliff, Bonzai Cliff, the veteran cemetery, Bird Island, and the grotto. Most of these have some historical significance tied to WWII; the veterans cemetery is especially moving and beautiful (see photos). I would encourage you to do a Google search of each of the above-mentioned points of interest, as each has an intriguing story.
Later in the day the press secretary of the court invited me to watch a beach volleyball tournament at the Pacific Island Club, a resort about one mile south of my condo. I’ve never been much into volleyball, but watching good players is enjoyable (especially if you have a bucket of cold Carlsberg beer!). A funny thing happened though. About three beers into the bucket one of the contenders, a Koran named “Tiger” needed a new partner for reasons I was never able to discern due to the language barrier. Never being one to shy away from a challenge, I communicated to him that I could step in. I’m tall and relatively athletic looking, so he fell for it and let me play. Long story short: he had happened to draw a rather weak opponent for the round and we were able to squeak it out by a score of 15-12. Tiger and I then split the last two Carlsbergs and spent the next half hour trying to communicate using elevated voices and hand gestures. Overall it was a great day, and I realized that the dips on the rollercoaster made the peaks that much better.
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