After the medium sized blow out of my PCS party, I still had about a million chores to do before I left the rock. I thought I was on top of things, but as my final days proved, clearly, I wasn't. AT. ALL. After the whole Pohnpei flight debacle,SL had remarked that it was funny that I was only worried about my plans for the party and not the larger logistics of moving halfway around the world. I can only say now that she was entirely right, and the only reason that I wasn't more upset was because I had no fucking clue what I was doing or what the coming days would entail.
I won't bore you with details, but that last week was one of the worst of my life, and the last day was too terrible to even remember. Who knew that packing up would be like that?!? I sure didn't. There were a lot of good things about those days, though. I feel very lucky that I was granted a little extra time to spend with friends and with my island. N Pance threw my "Last Night" celebration at her boatshack, and once again everyone (who could) came through for me and turned out to wish me one final goodbye. It was everything I could have asked for.
When I finally got to the airport on the 16th, I was physically and emotionally drained. I felt blank for most of my goodbyes; like my departure was an event so large that my emotions couldn't encompass it. I stayed just that little bit too long, though, and when someone's eyes started to well up, all of a sudden all five of us girls were in tears, and I was almost sobbing (And, yes, I cried all the way to Majuro. It was completely pathetic). It meant so much to me that they were all there, and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving any of them. I sometimes still feel like I've subconsciously convinced myself that I'm on a very long vacation and that the real reckoning is yet to come.
I can't imagine the path that my life would have taken if I had not come to Kwaj, and I don't want to. I feel like Kwaj was the making of me; every minute I spent there seems impossibly dear to me now. I know I won't ever forget it.
Sort of. There wasn't much Olympic-ing going on, it was more about, you know, drinking. That was certainly okay, though I would have liked to have played a few more games (if only to distinguish my PCS party from the rest of the Coral Sands parties). But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I had to get a vehicle, so that morning I woke up as early as I could possibly manage to, which was about seven thirty. I tried to get up at six to do the whole reservation thing, but, of course, was too hung over. I was still looking (and feeling) like the back end of a moose when I arrived at the motor pool, rubbing sleep boogers from my blurry eyes. Since I'm a total slacker, there were only step vans left, so I promptly rented one and went back to my room to sleep. When I woke up a couple hours later, I had to work! A lot. Carrying back and forth, running in and out, and driving a huge beheamoth of a vehicle; it was a sweaty, frustrating morning. Finally everything was ready, though; all my fields were set up, the beer was frosty, and I was more than ready to tap into it!
Luckily for my fragile psyche, people started showing up pretty close to the appointed starting time. If they don't do that, I start to hyperventilate and go into a tailspin about how nobody is going to show and I'm clearly the most unpopular girl in the world. It's a situation best avoided, really. Soooo, not only did people start showing up, but some of the kids helped me finish filling the water balloons for dodgeball, along with various other last minute tasks. It was nice to have some company, frankly. It's funny, I would have thought that an instant and rowdy start would have been something to be preferred, but I loved just sitting around and spending time with everyone who was there early. It was a good way to ease into things.
People kept trickling in as the Mother's Day festivities came to a close, DJ P had started to crank some killer music, and suddenly, it was a party! I was trying to push for a game of wiffle ball, but as with all my previous tries, it was a dismal failure. I can't say that I wasn't having a good time, though, everyone was laughing and drinking and not going in the water at all. You know, pretty typical stuff. I thought all my preparations were going to be in vain and that we weren't going to play any games a'tall when the boatshacks crew came through for me. I don't know what alchemy they used to get people out on the kickball field, but clearly, I am not blessed. with it. Who cares, though? I was just glad to be following along with the original plan for the day, no matter how nominally.
It was fucking great, too. We randomly divided up into teams and dove right in. It was fathers against their children, kids against adults, cats and dogs, living together - mass hysteria! And, of course, since Mouth was playing, it was as cuthroat as a game can be when one of the rules involves holding a beer in one hand. People were getting pegged in the ass, kicking homeruns, and tripping over flip flops, uhh, I mean bases. I don't remember who won, but I do remember a lot of yelling, a lot of laughing and a lot of shenanigans. It was, by far, my favorite part of the day.
Not that some other fantastic things didn't happen, too. The massive water balloon fight, in particular, stands out in my mind. Alas, the pre-filled balloons never got to be used for dodgeball; we were too busy coshing each over the head with them. It's impossible to describe somthing as chaotic as a water balloon fight, but suffice to say that we were all soaking wet and beyond breathless when it was all over; not one single balloon survived the purge, including the ones I had stuffed down my dress. And yes, Stanimal finaly got his (though I think he just felt bad for Mouth). After that we decided to calm things down and light the palettes off with 1800 tequila. Yes, criminal, I know, but it was the only thing we had since I hadn't planned on a fire. The palatte fairy very kindly left us fodder for the fire, but forgot to leave us somthing to set it off with. Ahh, well.
By the time all the wood had burnt to cinders, it was pretty late, so people were starting the long and dark ride home from our remote location. Me, I still had the step van, so I was spared all that. Ceeby-ceeb and I piled as many bikes as possible into the back and drove (rather wildly, it must be admitted) to the shacks for a couple more drinks. None of the Community Activities stuff got taken back, but then again, I hadn't signed it out, either. I hope it's getting good use, wherever it ended up. I woke up the next day with absolutely no hangover, which was more than I deserved.
My PCS party didn't turn out exactly the way I planned, but in the end, it was just what I needed it to be. It was a fitting farewell to the four year party that encompassed my life on Kwaj. The important parts, anyway.
By the time that Wednesday rolled around, I was ready to go. Though I'd had a wonderful time both with my friends and the island itself, everything I had wanted to see had been seen. Sometimes twice. I felt a burning desire to get back to Kwaj and savor the very last days I was ever going to spend there (in the foreseeable future). We got our stuff up to the lobby and settled in to do some accounting. Our bills were all jumbly, so we had to do a lot of sorting before we could all pay and check out. Leaving aside the minor inconveniences that always pop up the day of a departure from anywhere, gaaaah, we all jumped into the van and headed to the airport.
Check-in was a breeze; soon after we arrived we were sitting in the waiting room and playing a game of hand and foot. BWSBM and JS both noticed that it was absolutely teeming outside. It was monsoon worthy rain, truly. Comments were being thrown around about J's plane flying over Kwaj for a similar reason, but I was blissfully concentrating on my awesome hand and so the information didn't sink into my brain. I was still in a state of ignorance when an innocent looking woman came into the room and got our attention. I thought she was going to tell us it was time to board - never mind that there was no plane on the runway. I think my subconscious had already cottoned on to the situation and was trying to protect me for as long as it could. After she had gotten our full attention, she then proceeded to shatter my world when she told us that inclement weather had caused the plane to skip right over the island and merrily continue on to its next destination. Everything immediately snapped into a dream sequence for me. I was led out of the departure lounge like a stunned lamb. You know those moments that are so mind bogglingly horrible that it feels like (or you hope) you're dreaming? Yeah, that was what it was like. It proved to be the calm before the storm, though, because by the time we were back in line to book onto the next flight two days hence, I was a jibbering, slobbering, sobbing wreck. I think I was temporarily demented. Tornados of thought were whirling around in my head and destroying eveything in their path. It went something like this, "Ohmygod, ohmygod!!! The next flight is in two days!! Ohmygod, that means that I'll only have two days left on Kwaj, and I haven't finished ANYTHING!! Ohgod, ohgod. No time to pack, no time to rest, to spend time wandering the island, no time to plan the PCS party properly, or...or anything, anything!!! This is the worst day of my life!!" This string of thought would then repeat multiple times with more hysteria, faster and faster. Someone should have slapped me.
Through no doing of mine, we soon had tickets on the Friday flight and a room at the Village until we left. Again. It's a good thing that V and JS were there, because I was completely incapable of rational thought, and even the smallest decision was utterly beyond me. Back into the van we got; everyone was chattering brightly while politely trying to ignore my not so private nervous breakdown. Swear to god, every cheerful quip slid right into my heart and twisted mercilessly. I can laugh about it now, but at the time I was legitimately traumatized. Think about it. You're moving your entire life across oceans and continents in a matter of days. That's bad enough. But now something has gone drastically wrong, you're stuck in another place, and your tight but doable schedule has been shot to fucking hell. A rising stress level doesn't even begin to cover it. Perhaps I shouldn't have gone away on vacation so close to my PCS date. Just a thought.
Anyway, I wasn't the only one affected by the changed plans. The couple who had gone to Nan Madol with us were so pissed that they left their suitcases at the airport and got a ride to some fleabag hotel, no doubt to sulk in their crappy room until they left Pohnpei. What else could you do if you didn't have a change of clothes?!? Weird. Then there was D and JE, who were out money for a prebooked room on Kosrae, and even worse, J was in danger of missing his pig hunt! It was a bad situation all around. I was so exhausted from my emotional upheaval by the time we got back "home," that I had to take a nap. It was my only escape.
I woke up considerably calmer, just in time for V to come and get me for dinner. Funnily enough, that dinner with the girls and our fellow Kwaj folks, D and JE, was one of the nicest in the whole vacation. The food was wonderful, as usual, and we finally got our coconut drinks after five days of trying. It was one of those nights when everyone is telling story after story and everything is hilarious. It was still an early night for me, though. The combination of the day's events and the most uncomfortable chairs on the planet defeated me. Everyone else stayed up until the wee smas and had a grand old night. I regret missing it, but I was simply done in. Bed had never looked so inviting as it did that night.
As for the extra day and a half, it was fun. For a description of it, see all the other days of the trip. You know, shop a little, get a pedi, play some hand and foot, drink some sakau. The usual. I'm not meaning to belittle the extra time we spent on Pohnpei; I did have a good time. The stress of everything looming in front of me just wouldn't go away, though, and I was the happiest girl in the world when our plane landed and subsequently took off with us in it.
When I finally got home I could have kissed the pavement. Pohnpei was a fab trip, make no mistake, but my planning could have been a little better, I think.
