It is no secret, the islands are ‘melting’ away. And as they do–from the Marshalls to Pohnpei to Chuuk to Yap–residents are left with their own thoughts.
Should there be any need to choose? The majority of the older generation would rather stay; the young ones would like to seek out dry grounds.
It would seem the older folks are more concerned about their pride, culture and the idea of their islands as “mothers”. They’re more worried about caring for their elders, clans and their islands.
They would be the first to say: “This is where my mom’s buried, and where dad died. This is home. It’s where I’d rather be.”
In fact, Anthony Ratiloilug, 63, of Satawal, Yap, is in this category. He is a long time resident of Guam, and a landowner, too. Ask him why he chose to be the owner of a prime piece of real estate on Guam, and he will tell you he did it for his family. But he’d rather sit at home, carving canoes and watching stars.
“It’s been a long time since I was home,” said Ratiloilug.
He said he still gets homesick, and when he does he thinks about the only place that’s near and dear to his heart… Satawal.
Pollap is another atoll in the Northwest region of Chuuk, a neighbor to Satawal island. It has tell-tale signs of the effects of global warming: a near-disappearing sandbar and a seawall left in ruins, overtaken by seawater.
Representing islands that are literally eroding away, it’s famously known for it’s sandbar–Ulupi–a place where lovers used to frolic under the moonlit night.
Ulupi is poised to be soon submerged underwater. Once a prominent place tied to navigational chants, it will be reduce by seawater to a relic of old memories.
In the Federated States of Micronesia, many of the flatlands were hardest hit in the recent King Tides. Homes and majority of their crops were inundated with seawater; people wading in knee-high seawater to get to places. Such tide has renewed fervent thoughts of young islanders looking for dry grounds.
Russell Bejang, a former Ebeye resident, once said in Salem, Ore., “I like it here. I’d like to settle down someday.”
He said he wouldn’t mind dealing with clean Oregon and its convenient fastfood restaurants.
Joshua Choun, a Chuukese-born who grew up in Chuuk/Guam, said: “Where is home, but where there is plenty of us. Our small islands will be under water soon. And the mainland U.S. is where everyone is headed, it’s where we’ll enjoy the company of many.”
He voiced what is in the hearts of many of our younger generation: safety for self, and convenience.
“I don’t want to setttle for less,” said Choun, “and to be content with going back and forth to the islands. What are we going to do there? I want to buy lands where we can have a place called ‘home.’ My generation will be looking for a better location; right now our people are leaving. We’ve all seen better opportunities for future… a better life and better homes.”
Like Bejang, Choun is looking ahead. He has never had any significant ties to the island. Nothing that he would associate any true value to it anyway.
True, his mom, his dad, brothers and sisters are on Guam–his grandma still lives on their island (Houk) so are his uncles, aunts and cousins; but somehow they are not in his equation.
Many young Marshallese also growing up in the states and calling it their home, don’t have “significant” ties either. Therefore, it’s easy food, easy jobs; thus, easy money… and easy living.
At least, that’s what was important to Bejang in Oregon, anyway.
Is this cause for the young people to readily abandon their islands now… long time homes of their identity?
Editor’s Note: Chuuk declared a state of emergency after king tides caused massive flooding in low-lying communities last December 2021. King tides and storm surges contributed to coastal flooding throughout the Federated States of Micronesia and the Republic of the Marshall Islands.