Gang Land

Author: Jeff Hicks /

Teaching high school on Yap was rewarding, yet dangerous. The Yapese people lived under a different set of rules than anyone I had encountered to that point in my life. The silent, social contract that keeps a society peaceful and in harmony, was very loose and often non-existent on the island of Yap.

One day, Lunde was lecturing the students on Micronesian History. I was in the backroom preparing for my lesson which would be coming up next hour. Suddenly, I sensed that things were not right outside in the main classroom. I jumped from my chair and bolted through the door to see what was up.

A high school senior and one of the star members of the local motorcycle gang had paid us a visit. He wore a red bandana slung around his head with dark glasses hiding his eyes. He was only medium sized but his anger and vicious nature made up for his smaller stature.

His motorcycle gang was notorious for riding the island roads and trails on old, dirt bikes painted black - two riders to a bike. The man on back wielded a machete and it was his job to take swipes at passers by and see if he could not hack a piece out of an innocent human who might just be out for a relaxing walk or trip to the market to buy food for the family.

Anyway, I stepped from the peaceful confines of the backroom into chaos and disorder. Instantly the room had erupted into mass confusion as the thirty students in the room ran for cover, hid under desks, or ran outside. The dangerous gang thug picked up a chair and heaved it at Lunde who was standing in front of the class trying to restore order. Fortunately the chair missed Lunde’s head and smashed into the wall behind him, clanging to the floor.

The gangster lunged forward just as Lunde swore and demanded the man leave. Just then, the principal of the school showed up. The thug declared that we would all be dead tonight as he and his family was going on the hunt and would visit all of us and kill us all in our sleep.

“Why do you want to kill us” the principal asked? There was no answer as the gangster ran away with a small number of his posse tagging behind him.

That was the end of the school day for us. We went home and recuperated. We didn’t discuss the issue in great detail, but we were a bit apprehensive about what the night might bring.

As I lay awake in my bed that night, my own machete and bamboo club next to my bed, I was the most scared I had ever been in my life. They say when one is extremely scared, his butt will pucker. Well, that was happening to me. Every sound in the night brought a new vision of my terrible fate and the fact my family would never see me alive again. And the night was pitch-black with no moon overhead.