The Search Continues

 When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Unless life crams those lemons down your throat whole. And chokes you to death. Then I guess you're screwed. Life hasn't quite done that to me yet. 

I'm sitting on a beautiful tropical island in the Northern Pacific Ocean, looking out my window at a beautiful, sunny day, with just a few clouds in the distance. I have a great job waiting for me in an exciting, exotic foreign country. And I have lots of free time on my hands! What's not to love about life?

Well, there's an asterisk to most of what's above. The beautiful tropical island is Saipan, which is part of the United States. That seems like it should be a bonus, but for anyone like myself, who has no money to speak of, it only means that I now become the perpetually losing party in America's neverending war on the poor. Mind you, this island has a high level of expertise in handling poverty. Food stamps and Medicaid are de rigueur, so hospitals, pharmacies, and grocery stores have no problem accepting them. And the offices that issue these public benefits are fairly fast and efficient in doing so. And friendly.

Unfortunately, it's all done under the same philosophy of 'helping those poor unfortunates' rather than citizens collecting benefits due, so the language is still filled with penalties for doing it wrong and the feeling is that someone is doing you a favor, even though I and the other citizens are collecting what we're entitled to, what we spent years paying taxes for. As Erica constantly reminds me, it would be far worse on the mainland.

The more substantial problem with being in the US, even if you only consider that a technicality, is that main problem that, apparently, plagues every part of the country: cars. Or more specifically, the lack of any other form of transportation. This island should be a case study of how insane reliance on the automobile can get. This island has the remnants of at least one town and the potential for several more. There are communities all over this 12-mile-long island, but so far Garapan, where I live, is the only one that even appears to have been walkable at one time. If you've never read my other blog, Battling Burnham, you may not know how I feel about urban development and American-style exurban environments. So I'll give a quick summary: I don't like them. A small, densely developed area can easily be walked, giving access to the most number of people possible. American-style, exurban development restricts access to those who can afford a car. This means anyone too poor, too young, too old, too handicapped, etc. can't get access to anything, from jobs to food.

So walking anywhere is out. Public transportation, like most of the mainland, doesn't exist. As a side note, concrete bus shelters all over the island aren't used for anything except advertising. Also, there's a Commonwealth Transit Authority in Susupe complete with publicly owned buses parked out front. I'm told they plan to start service next year, but only if you call  24 hrs ahead for a pick-up.

Cabs aren't much better, as visitors (not locals) are warned not to use the 'illegal' taxi that costs $3, but instead to opt for the 'official' taxi service that charges $30. I'd just like to point out that paying $6/day for the privilege of getting back and forth to work will eat up an hour's pay for a minimum wage worker, so the $3 cab fare isn't great as a start. The $30 fare is just laughable.

The weather here is fantastic. Except when it's not. Yes, it's beautiful and sunny and warm. And humid. Very humid. Even before the sun is out in the morning and long before it's actually hot outside, I'm soaked in sweat. And I don't go out in it much anyway, as continually slathering SPF 50 every day can get expensive. At least once per day, the bottom falls out of those beautiful clouds and we get rain. Substantial rain. Enough that some streets become impassible. (Thank you, American hydro engineers!) So the myth of fantastic tropical weather is just that. To be sure, the flora and fauna that result from this weather do make the island beautiful. But the weather itself actually isn't that great. And that goes for anywhere in the tropics. Beautiful? Yes. Great weather? Are you serious?

That great job that's waiting for me in China? That is a good thing. Except, I can't get there. I've been trying since January to get in. I've gotten all my paperwork done. I've gone to the Embassy in Singapore, where I was promptly told that I could only apply in my home country. Which no one had mentioned until that point. I was somehow able to get back to US soil and it happens to be the only place in the US that doesn't 'do' addresses. The mail has been privatized here, so you have to buy a PO Box from a private company, which likely won't satisfy the requirements from the Chinese consulate to prove I'm a resident here. Further evidence that would be acceptable, like a mortgage, a driver's license, etc. is not something I can get. It's proving quite difficult to prove that I'm a long-term resident here (hint: that's because I'm not. I just got here.)

The final difficulty is work. I was hoping when I got back on American soil, I'd be able to find work while I waited on the visa process. But this is a tourist island. And tourism is the first thing to go into a recession and the last thing to recover. And while many people out there may think the pandemic is over (not yet a safe bet), only a fool would think that the economic impact has passed already. I don't expect tourists will return to the island for some time. And I don't think the people who run this island have prepared in any way for economic activity other than tourism. So there are very few jobs in Saipan at the moment. None that I've found. That should explain the 53% poverty rate.

And that's really the point of all of this. This island is just a microcosm of what goes on on the US mainland regularly. Economic mismanagement, poor planning, disastrous development. Then, when 53% of the population is living below the poverty level, we're told that's the result of personal choices. What jobs there require the worker to go out and pay for a vehicle (many jobs state that flatly in the description), or to pay more than their hourly wage for a cab ride to work (many parts of the island can be up to $15 fare, one way, even in the cheap taxi). 

Perhaps I'll end up finding one of those elusive jobs here on the island. Or online. Or tourism will return suddenly and to everyone's surprise. But for now, I'm just trying to survive until I can figure out another daring escape from the US economic trap.