Living on a Prayer

Author: Jeff Hicks /

One day we bolted into the house after a long, hot day of teaching, stripped off our hot and sweaty clothes and wrapped up in our lava-lavas. That is what we wore the majority of the time we were at home. When the humidity is so heavy you can see it hanging in the air, you will seek out whatever clothing is loose-fitting and light. It is surprising what one can do with two yards of cloth and the know-how to tie it around his waist. I bought my leopard skin print lava-lava in Guam before going to Yap and wore it every day of my mission at least once. In fact, I still have it now – twenty-five years later, even though I don’t wear it very often because my wife thinks it’s funny to rip it off at embarrassing times. Not only that, but in this western culture of rugged individualism, men wearing long, wrap-around skirts still hasn't caught on.

Anyway, we were getting comfortable and about ready to fix dinner when a huge ruckus suddenly erupted outside. Doors were slamming and a lady was screaming for her life. I ran to the window to see what was going on. A middle-aged couple had recently moved in below our neighbor friends’ house and we thought it might be them having a knock-down-drag-out fight.

Sure enough! The man was holding the lady by the hair in a death grip with one hand while he pummeled her head with an un-husked coconut with the other. He was screaming that he was going to end her life and that is exactly what it appeared he was doing. She was so bloody and battered her face was completely unrecognizable.

I ran out the front door and down the small grade to the front of their tiny pad. I grabbed the man’s hand in my own death grip, threw him to the ground and held him there while his wife jumped up, wiped the blood out of her eyes and stumbled off as fast as she could go. I was surprised she could see well enough to run; her head and face was so swollen and damaged. The man gave me an evil look as I held him down and I knew right then I had made a fierce enemy. Within a minute, after I thought the woman had a good head start, I let the man up and he ran off after his wife.

I went back in my house and sat down to catch my breath and think about what had just happened. I figured my action in restraining the man was not the wisest decision, but I didn’t want to see the poor woman beat to death. I had been told it was taboo to interfere with marital squabbles and other domestic problems on Yap. According to many I talked with, it was a firmly held belief that a man could do to his wife what he felt necessary if he thought she needed to be punished. And it would be curtains for anyone who had the audacity to interfere.

It wasn’t long before the details of the domestic episode got around. A few days later, some of my friends from the north part of the island informed me that the man’s family was looking for me and would try to kill me if they got the chance. I had never had a contract on my life before, so that was a new experience. For the next while, I made sure I always had a good sturdy bamboo club nearby and was wary of spears and machetes flying out of nowhere.

After awhile, things settled down and were pretty much forgotten. The woman moved back to the village to be with her family and the man left the pad and did not return. The few times I saw him after that, he cast some evil looks my way but never came after me – probably because he didn’t want to chance having his cranium dented with my bamboo club.

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Boorish Moronics

Author: Jeff Hicks /

I had a good friend named John who was a Navy SeaBee stationed on Yap. We met about twice a week and lifted weights at the SeaBee camp. John had a large Olympic weight set and some other nice exercise equipment and we were mutually happy to have each other as workout partners. My companion went along for the ride and diversion it offered.

Because, as missionaries, we were not allowed to be out tromping in the jungle after dark, I decided to use those evening hours to exercise and lift weights. If I was not lifting with John, I used my own makeshift weight set at home. I had the neighborhood kids hustle me some old train car axles with iron wheels that they dug up from somewhere on the island. They were relics left over from the Japanese mining operations that were in full swing during WWII and they made very good, makeshift workout bars.

I paid those kids $5 bucks each for their efforts and the day they delivered, I didn't want to know where they got them. Five bucks was a huge payday for them and we were all happy with the deal. My routine workouts kept me from getting the island jitters like some, because I was able to completely divert my mind to something different for a period of time each day.

One time when I had a planned workout with John, we were joined by the AP’s (assistants to the mission president) that were visiting from Guam. They were on a two day visit and decided they wanted to go and meet my workout partner. They were a couple of typical boys who hinted that they couldn’t wait to meet some topless island ladies. Because of this and the fact that they had that air of arrogance typical of AP's, I made up my mind that they were a couple of morons and looked forward to the day when they would be gone. We subtly reminded them that they were our guests and these Yapese people were our friends and neighbors and they better not disrespect them.

As I was introducing the AP’s to John, he mentioned that he had a really nice, hand-carved Yapese story board that he would be willing to sell. In unison, they both asked, “How much?” John said, “Oh, forty bucks and not a penny less.” The elaborate board depicted the life-cycle of the turtle which was ancient mythology for the Yapese people.

They both ran to the truck for their wallets. One AP had a wad of cash and the other, a check book. Naturally, the one with cash had his money ready sooner than the other and he made the transaction before his partner could dash up with his check that he had to quickly write out.

You should have seen the look on that AP’s face when he realized his partner had beaten him to the deal. He was furious! They both stood out by the truck and screamed and yelled at each other for quite awhile and at one point, they squared off and were ready to punch it out! Neither I nor my companion cared. I got busy with my workout and was completely indifferent to whether or not they beat the piss out of each other, as long as they were healthy enough to get back on the plane and leave when the time came.

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Getting Lei'd

Author: Jeff Hicks /

We were notified that a new mission president had arrived to take over for President Losee. The new guy, we were told, was from Canada. That is about all we knew about him. It wasn’t long before he announced, via written notice, that he would be visiting our island. He gave the precise dates so we knew when he would arrive. Since we almost never had visits from outsiders, we were anxious to receive his visit.

The day before our new President Keeler was slated to arrive we went next door and asked our outer island neighbor ladies if they wouldn't mind making some gifts. We said, “Our new chief and his wife will be coming and we think it would be fitting if they were able to receive some nice leis as a gift to welcome them to our island.” Those ladies were overjoyed to help us out and said they would start working on them very soon. The neighbors were not Yapese but were from the island of Wolei. They made beautifully woven leis that, in my opinion, could not be matched by any others I’d ever seen. They artfully folded and wove the flower petals into a fiber braid and the finished product looked heavenly.

The president arrived and we picked him up at the airport. He and his wife were prim and proper Canadians who looked as if they had never been on anything more than a Sunday picnic. President Keeler had a large iron hook for one hand due to a farm accident – he lost a battle with a hay baler at some point in his life.

We took them to our little pad above the lagoon and said that our neighbors had a small gift to offer for our chief and his wife. We really weren’t trying to be sarcastic. We all went to the neighbor’s house and out came those ladies with some beautiful leis. It is customary in Yap for the givers of leis to place them on the necks of the recipients.

As I stood with my camera ready, I suddenly had an ill feeling that we were headed for a train wreck. Keeler was a tall man and our neighbor lady was short with very large, bare breasts. As he bent over to receive his lei, his face was nearly lost between her huge breasts. Things did not go much better for his wife. Whatever humor one might have seen with the whole event was completely lost and our new mission president and his wife were livid. They remained composed until we got settled in the living room of our pad, then president unleashed hell on us for what he perceived was a set-up by a bunch of deviant boys.

In spite of our honest and sincere apologies, I don't think he ever forgave us. We had a good chuckle after the visit, however, and figured if he was going to come to our beautiful island home, he better be prepared for some culture shock.

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