Tag Archives: Nuku Hiva

School Daze

Trent's class photo with the ubiquitious "bird" captured in this Kodak moment, the student at the front-left corner.
Trent’s class’s Kodak moment captures the student at the front left corner sporting the playground’s ubiquitous “bird” on his righthand.

Leslie and I dreamed of Bryce and Trent learning to some day speak fluent French. Although it was not our original intention when setting off to sail around the world, the new emphasis toward cultural immersion in lieu of sailing around the world affords us this opportunity. It is one of the main reasons for our extended stay in French Polynesia, allowing us to enroll Bryce and Trent in a French public school; first in Nuku Hiva, Marquesas, then maybe in Raiatea, Society.

At first, we were all excited to start school, all of us except Trent. He was, and remains, less convinced of the benefits surrounding the acquisition of a new language. For Leslie and I, learning to speak French has become a requirement of them. In August of this year, Bryce and Trent made Nuku Hiva history, perhaps even Marquesas history, becoming the first Americans ever to attend school here. At first, Bryce welcomed the attention his unique circumstances offered. Everyone watched his every move. Girls flocked to him, requesting instant girlfriend status (being a small island of limited population, many kids are related, making it difficult to date, so new blood represents new possibilities). He was instantly popular. Trent on the other hand did not welcome the global attention. No matter where he went, on campus or off, he felt the inquisitive gaze of locals. When at the store, what products would he buy, what items interested him? At school, kids stared to see what clothes he wore, what technology he brought, what skills and attitudes he might introduce. He did not welcome the unsolicited attention that being a blond-haired, blue-eyed, white-skinned American brought him in a school 98% brown-haired, brown-eyed, brown-skinned Polynesian. Conspicuous simply for his differences was an uncomfortable circumstance for Trent. I tell the boys to remember how it feels to be different in appearance from the general population and to be treated like a freak, so that when they find themselves in a circumstance where they see someone different being introduced into their cultural, that they reach out to them to help them feel at ease, to welcome them in a more constructive and caring manner than their current classmates are.

Another challenge for the boys is entering a scholastic social structure unable to communicate. Not understanding what kids are saying to you or each other, not understanding what the teachers are saying when they are teaching, describing the assignments, the homework, and handing out the tests is akin to living a nightmare for an honor roll student like Bryce, or a student like Trent who likes to please others, especially his teachers. “They think because we don’t speak French that we’re idiots. They can’t believe we’re so dumb, coming from America. It’s not fair. We know more about most of these subjects then they do. Just because we don’t speak their language, doesn’t mean we’re dumb. Even little kids think they’re smarter than us just because we can’t answer even simple questions,” they protest. Again, I ask that they always remember this injustice so that when they meet someone learning English, or even a new skill, that they accord them the same allowances that they feel the Marquesan students, and even some of the French teachers, should extend them. For the first 6 weeks, most all the teachers were sympathetic to their circumstance. After the first school break, a one-week vacation, patience ran out. Nearly all of their teachers began treating them as if the grace period for learning to speak French were over. Apparently for many, six weeks is all it should take to be able to speak French.

The boys were learning. And as in when learning any language, they were beginning to understand what was being said, more than they could speak, especially when others made the effort to speak very slowly and deliberately. When a debutant linguist asks a native speaker to speak slowly, he or she slows down from 70 mph to 55 mph, but still freeway speed. What a very beginning student of a language wants is for a person to speak at 5-10 mph, crowded parking lot speed. You want each word clearly spoken and separated from each other with a fair pause in between. Only someone in the process of learning a new language seems to appreciate this requirement. Others soon tire of the effort and slowly ramp back up to freeway speeds. As parents introducing non-speaking students to their class, it’s not fair to ask teachers to teach their class in a manner necessary for Bryce and Trent to understand, either by translating in English or by slowing speech to a snail’s pace. So, to assist their learning, we hired a professional French-as-a-second-language teacher, experienced in teaching French to Americans. Bryce and Trent meet with him outside of school, 3 times a week. In a constructive environment, he instructs them in basic French, addresses their language questions related to any recent experiences, and helps them with their homework.

Language is not the only challenge confronting Bryce and Trent’s introduction to school in the Marquesas. Cultural differences make for difficult and unpleasant social lessons. Petty theft, lying, vulgar acts and language, and threats of violence are commonplace behaviors in Taiohae’s secondary school. The boys’ backpacks are pilfered through when they’re not looking, during recess, lunch, or physical ed. Bryce and Trent’s stationary supplies are taken from their desk when the walk away to approach the teacher with a question. Locker locks are picked open and items removed. Those whom Bryce thought were his frie

School au Collège de Taiohae

October 16, 2015

Trent starts French public secondary school in Taiohae, Marquesas
Trent starts French public secondary school in Taiohae, Marquesas

Moving from one school to the next is hard. Every school is different. You have new kids to deal with; new teachers and you have to start the friend making business all over again. All that is a pain in the butt, yet eventually it all turns out fine. Starting up at the school in Taiohae was a little different for my brother and me. It’s all French and we don’t speak French.

School entrance with guardian monitoring comings and goings
School entrance with guardian monitoring comings and goings

Our parents brought us to this island out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and threw us in school. We had no clue about the Marquesan culture, what the kids would be like, and the hardest part was we had no idea how to communicate. In a nutshell our parents enrolled us in a school, on a remote island, without us knowing the culture, the language or other kids, then told us how long we were going to attend – one year! That’s what I call a little bit of a challenge.

Eastside of campus reveals open-air cafeteria
Eastside of campus reveals open-air cafeteria

On our first day of school we woke up at 6 in the morning since school starts at 7 a.m. We quickly got dressed and ate breakfast, drove our 8’ inflatable dinghy to shore then started our 20-minute walk to school. We walked up to meet the principal and to check out the school: where the restrooms were, lunch would be, basketball courts were, etc. The bell rang so it was time to find my first class. The vice principal told this random girl to lead me to my class. We arrived in a classroom. The teacher looked at my schedule book and pointed to the class I had to go to. It was math class with Monsieur Evain. He spoke to me in English, telling me to sit next to a boy across the room whose English was okay. His name, I learned, was Phillip. He was really nice.

Bryce's class, Bryce center. Phillip is on the end, to Bryce's right
Bryce’s class, Bryce center. Phillip is on the end, to Bryce’s right, Mr. Evian, to his left.

We were the first Americans to ever attend this school. Everything you did or said they thought was what all American kids did or said. In a way, we represented all American kids. It was like we were celebrities and everything we did they thought was cool. The reaction I would normally get arriving at a new school in America would have been much different: no one would have noticed me or cared to know my name or try to make me feel comfortable. But in the Marquesas, it seemed to be the opposite. It was, “Oh, you need help? Let me help you.” Practically on our first day of school everyone knew our names. After math was Physics and then History/Geography and following that was Physical Ed. We played basketball. The kids here are terrible at basketball. I am probably the best player in 7-9th grade! At home, I was just passable.

Bryce's English class. His teacher by chance visited Ventura this past summer, during the 4th of July.
Bryce’s English teacher, standing in the back of the class, by chance visited Ventura this past summer, during the 4th of July.

After P.E. we had lunch. Phillip led me over to the lunch line. For lunch there is a different protocol than the schools attended in Southern California. You grab a metal tray; slide it on the rails in front of the kitchen while servers place fresh food on your tray. That first day we had rice, lentils, grapefruit and a piece of French baguette. When I saw the spread I thought, “Geeze, this is so good, and it didn’t come out of a bag!” When I was done there was not a crumb left on my plate. It was so delicious – like rich kids’ food. After lunch, surprisingly, I was finished with school. That’s when I started thinking, “Man, this is the best school ever. Fantastic lunch, school finishes at twelve most days, and I’m treated like a celebrity.” This school was really turning out to be a great experience for the both of us.

The cafeteria serving station before lunch
The cafeteria serving station before lunch

By the time this week was finished, my brother, Trent, and I were top news for most of the island. Everyone was giving us greetings when we biked down the street. Random people saying, “Bonjour,” “Salut,” “Hi!” In sum it was looking really good for us. People we had never seen before knew us.

Students before the first bell
Students before the first bell

The next week was even better. During our morning breaks, we had pretty girls asking if they could be our girlfriends. But after awhile it got a little annoying having people pulling you over into their group and examining you, asking the same silly questions. At the same time, I liked the attention. For the first month, this was the normal day. Then the attention started cooling off. People were getting used to us, which was a bad thing.

Students in the courtyard before the first bell
Students in the courtyard before the first bell

Now during school I have to watch my back because everyone wants to fight us, putting up their arm saying, “I’m gonna fight you!” I never know if someone is going to pounce on me, and every time I turn around there’s at least one person giving me the finger or shouting, “F-you, Bryce!” On top of that, everything got harder. Now I’m expected to understand everything being said in class and I have to do homework in French. Fortunately, after school I go to a tutor for help with my French.

Getting flipped off is a regularly occurrence.
Getting flipped off (face blurred) is a regularly occurrence.

A few times now I have had trouble with a couple kids. One day before my English class, this kid named London all of a sudden came at me and said, “Shut up, be quiet!” then put his chest against mine and peered down at me like he was going to hit me. Then I said, “Go, go, come on. Allez, allez, viens!” In my head I was thinking if this guy hits me, he would have more pain than me once it’s all over. Since the village of Taiohae has a small population of 2,000, everyone would know he’s the one who struck the American who doesn’t even speak French, for no good reason. Plus his parents and the school would be very mad. As this was going on, a teacher came out and the kid cooled down. It was over and he apologized after class. Anyway, it’s happened a few times after that before it totally ended. It is now resolved without any physical confrontation.

Bryce goes toe-to-toe with a stone tiki
Bryce goes toe-to-toe with a stone tiki

After that first month, the college turned into a bit of a wild school and hard to handle. You can’t even leave your backpack alone without fear of some kid rummaging through your stuff and picking out what he wants. The way I look at, it’s just a few more months before it will all be over. So, in the meantime, just toughen up and deal with the problems straight up. Attending this school has been a crazy new experience. At the moment it seems worth my while. Although I do have to say, I can’t wait until it’s all over and things go back to normal: homeschooling with mom and dad.

Kandu in Anaho Bay, Nuku Hiva, Marquesas
Kandu in Anaho Bay, Nuku Hiva, Marquesas

by Bryce Rigney