To: All the Single Ladies

Teaching school overseas with DoDDS for 20+ years—all of them as a single lady—I have been privy to manifold conversations amongst “the girls” decrying the dearth of eligible men even while abiding in the midst of a military population largely constituted of males of the species or else speculating and debating the best location(s) in which to make oneself present in order to meet men. Of course, a variety of clubs, organizations, and activities receive regular nods and accolades, but one “factoid” I found entertaining to consider and very possibly true is this: Get assigned to Cuba (Guantanamo) because the guys there don’t have any access to locals for dating purposes—or otherwise—and so all socializing must unfold strictly among the community on base! Nevertheless, should one not achieve an assignment to Cuba, another option exists, one that I have only very recently discovered: Move into the BOQ, BEQ, BLQ, whatever the acronym may be for your location—B for bachelor being the operative letter/word!



Although a founding member of the “Lodgettes”—an entity established in August, 2005, and comprised of incoming teachers to Yokosuka residing at the Navy Lodge while awaiting more permanent housing—I had to seek accommodation elsewhere on base after vacating my house June 1 in preparation for my upcoming transfer because the Navy Lodge (apparently) is full. Consequently, I have spent the last two nights at the Navy Gateway (BOQ), a place where men—mostly in uniform—seem to dwell in noteworthy abundance. (Surely I am not the only female guest, but I have yet to spot another of my gender residing here.) And these guys are all so NICE! Ranging in ages spanning spring to winter, nary a one has failed to greet or acknowledge my presence in the hall, parking, or common areas. Now, despite the fact that my age no longer falls into a “spring” designation, even “springtime” guys make eye contact and chit chat. Granted, a lot of the exchanges so far have been with the smokers because the designated smoking area falls between my preferred parking location and the building itself, but, hey, smokers, too, can successfully rev up a girl’s ego.


Saturday I think I’ll go for a run (there are always guys returning from their runs when I leave for school in the morning) and do laundry in the location provided for my hallway. Should those activities prove report-worthy, I shall report!

Monuriki, Fiji

I saw the Tom Hanks movie Cast Away (2000) just one time, yet glimpses of the island on which the Tom Hanks character is "cast away" have continued to flash across my mind's eye ever since--a visual setting both stunning and staggering.  So imagine my surprise and subsequent pleasure to discover one evening in March while perusing my Moon Handbook: Fiji that this island of movie fame (1) is in Fiji; (2) has a name--Monuriki; (3) truly is an uninhabited island, one situated on the western edge of the Mamanuca chain; and (4) I could not only see it, but actually spend a couple of hours on site as part of a day cruise embarking from Denarau Port, the port about a mile away from our first hotel, The Westin.

At The Westin travel desk, Beth and I booked the Seaspray day cruise, which, in addition to other activities, included about two hours on Monuriki to swim, snorkel, and explore a bit.  I loved the entire day--think sea, boats, tropical islands--but on Monuriki I was absolutely enchanted!

Beth on the beach of Monuriki

Here I am (at my whitest, by the way).

The Seaspray at anchor off the beach of Monuriki.  (The crew was preparing a barbeque lunch while we played.)

Looking back at Monuriki as we depart aboard the Seaspray.

Thanks to Netflix, another viewing of Cast Away awaits me when I arrive in the USA for my summer sojourn with my dad.  I am curious how I will respond now to the panoramas of Monuriki as portrayed in the movie.

Fiji: Boats

As far as humanity is concerned, Fiji began with a boat. Even today boats continue to hold an intrinsic domain in the setting, function, and aura of this land.


And I like boats—as an observer and as a participant. The lure of “going to sea” has long tempted me. In fact, I remember actually considering “running off to sea”—that would have been some moment during my high school years under the influence of having read Mutiny on the Bounty two or three times!


While in Fiji, I photographed lots of boats, a few of them multiple times over a succession of days. Here are my favorites:

blessing the boats
by Lucille Clifton

may the tide
that is entering even now
the lip of our understanding
carry you out
beyond the face of fear
may you kiss
the wind then turn from it
certain that it will
love your back may you
open your eyes to water
water waving forever
and may you in your innocence
sail through this to that

Fiji: An Adventure

A view of Nacula

This adventure has two parts because it ultimately played out over two different mornings. But first, some requisite background information . . .

Beth and I spent about five days on Nacula, one of Fiji’s Yasawa Islands. These islands are volcanic in origin—as are most of the islands of Fiji—and interiors often have elevation: as in peaky style hills cloaked in savanna with sporadic enclaves of coconut palms inscribing the preferred drainage route. A listing of possible activities posted at Oarsman’s Bay Lodge, our accommodation while on Nacula, included a hike to the summit of Nacula. There was a path, and round trip, lodge to summit and back, was estimated at two hours. Fiji is tropical—synonymous with hot and humid—so I posited that we begin our hike at dawn, to take advantage of our coolest timeframe, and return in time for 8:00-ish breakfast.

Attempt to summit commenced as posited. We arose about six with the dawn breaking but before sunrise, and I dressed for a day advancing thus: hike, breakfast, beach. Although we had conferred with Philip and Oni, Nacula natives and lodge personnel, about the path to the summit after dinner the night before, Beth and I did not remain on a marked path—most of which never was actually the correct path, we later learned—much longer than five minutes. Largely unconcerned, because Oni assured us there was nothing dangerous out there (like SNAKES), because we could see the goal above and beyond, and because the goal appeared easily attainable, we ascended—frequently on the vertical, using the grass for hand and foot holds. Eventually, though, we trekked through saw grass (it definitely had an edge, one that grew sharper with increasing contact) ranging from knee-high to over-our-heads-high without ever reaching the true summit. We gave up and turned back an hour or so after we began, only to confront much more daunting challenges than already encountered: a steep descent over terrain rendered invisible due to the grass and then the expansive thicket of dense bush—sans path—separating the savanna from the beach. I now marvel at the range and practicality of functions possible for a machete! We finally reached Oarsman’s Bay Lodge again just before 9:00, sweaty, dirty, hungry, out of water, and grass-cut across our arms and legs.

That's me encompassed in saw grass!

Looking down toward Oarsman's Bay Lodge

Notice the dirt on Beth's hands and knees...and we hadn't even started the hardest part yet--the descent!

We walked down this slope sans path--trickier than it may look!

We pushed and shoved our way through this bush to the beach; it took us about an hour!

Still, I yearned to summit Nacula. Although we chose to sleep in the following morning, on our final morning in Nacula—after a brief reconnaissance of the several paths snaking in various directions from the lodge and into the bush and then an additional conference with Philip and Oni—we headed out again. This time we found the path and followed the path all the way to the summit and then a bit beyond to where we could look down onto Nacula Village.

Beth--on the path this time!

Looking down on Nacula Village.

After our second attempt, our successful attempt, to summit Nacula, Pi—another native of Nacula Village who worked at Oarsman’s—asked to see my photos of our hike. While she perused the photos on my camera’s screen, I asked her if she had ever climbed to the top. She said only once: for the last tsunami warning, all the women and children on the island were sent to the top while the men remained below.

Pi, me, and Oni

What Stress Invokes

I rarely make lists. I do not own a day planner or appointment book of any kind, nor do I keep a calendar. With just my life to track, my memory and an occasional sticky note or two have largely sufficed. Every few years, though, an exception can emerge, and apparently 2010—with a transfer for me to Korea in its record—is one of those exceptional years. Several restless nights and one migraine later, I now have a calendar in place for the month of May!


April 30 Official orders arrive via e-mail for my transfer from Yokosuka to Seoul. (In the military world, nothing can proceed without these in hand.)

May 1, 1730 Caroline's baby shower at the O'Club

May 3 Fill out paperwork requesting shipment of household goods

May 5, 1500 Sign paperwork for shipment of household goods and confirm pack-out dates

May 8, 1100 Celeste's baby shower at Tsubaki Tower Party Room

May 10, 1730 Hair appointment, NEX Salon

May 11, 1400 Moving company preview appointment (A representative comes to the house and checks out how much stuff is lodged therein.)

May 13, 1430 Caroline's baby shower at school

May 14, 1430 Termination Briefing (sounds ominous, huh) at the Housing Office

May 15, 1400 Pedicure, NEX Salon

May 24 Pack-out for Unaccompanied Baggage (350 pounds, fast-tracked)

May 25, 0730 Appointment at Autoport to have belts on car checked (I have a buyer for my aged car--$500--but something in its internal workings has begun sporadically squeaking!)

June 1 Pack-out for Household Goods
           Take up residence in the Navy Lodge on base

 And still to schedule . . .

• washer/dryer pick-up (furnished by the US Navy)
• cancellation of cell phone service
• cancellation of Internet service, removal of cable, return of router
• utility meter readings and final payments
• final check-out with landlord and return of deposit

Why I Teach Eighth Grade

Jarae walked into first period today (Monday) wearing sunglasses.  The bell rang and he didn't remove them.  Now Jarae is smart, athletic, kind, good-looking, popular, and a great kid overall.

ME:  Jarae, what's up with the shades?
JARAE:  My eyes just don't look good this morning.
ME:  What's wrong? 
JARAE:  I'm just tired.
ME:  But, Jarae, I need to see the windows of your soul.
ISAIAH:  (who did raise his hand, by the way)  But, Ms. Cahoon, you're looking into the windows to the windows of his soul!

Fiji Impressions

• An assumption that Fiji stands in the ranks of so-called "third world countries" is probably fairly common. Yet, in comparison to other "third world countries" I've visited, especially tropical ones, Fiji is different.  In all of Fiji's major cities you can drink the water without concern.  There is no need to obtain and employ any malaria prophylaxis (HALLELUJAH!) because malaria is not a risk.  And I observed throngs of kids headed to and from school--all clean, pressed, uniformed, and, quite frequently, barefoot.  ('Tis the tropics, afterall!)  I also had the chance to visit a school on the island of Nacula, and a basic education for all seems to be culturally valued.  Since returning from Fiji, I have checked its ranking on three different listings of countries by GDP/PPP (gross domestic product/purchasing power parity), and out of 190-ish countries, Fiji shows up on all three lists somewhere in the 150s.  It's literacy rate is about 93%.

• Time is not so measured and allotted...Fiji time, they call it.

• People sing--these amazing, full-bodied voices seamlessly shifting between unison and harmony, sometimes a cappella and sometimes accompanied by ukulele and guitar.

Children singing for us at the school we visited on Nacula Island.

• Conceived in all the blues of the tropics, crystalline, the sea laps pristine white-sand beaches extending from canopies of coconut palms or else crashes against rocky headlands with dramatic spray and thunder or else grumbles and breaks into lines of white surf across the tops of coral reefs.

• Night is tangible, so dark the Milky Way seems to spiral across an endless swath of black velvet.