THE GREAT GUAMANIAN CAR SAGA

On my second day on Guam, after picking up garbage all morning, James took me out to his friend Dan to see a car he had for sale – for $500. We drove north on Marine Drive. I see the car as we drive up to the house. James says, “Hey it has wheels.” Dan gives me the key and I take it out for a test drive.

It is a 1988 Mitsubishi Mirage 2 door fully equipped with

• automatic transmission,


• steering wheel,


• windows,


• one side mirror,
  
• extensive rust,


• two bowling balls (?),


• bumper attached by bailing wire,


• a large ant colony.
  

I took it out for a spin and although the doors didn’t lock, the air con didn’t work, the windows took herculean effort to roll down, and the brakes took a few minutes to slow the car down, it did drive forward at slow speeds. After the drive, I offered $450 and Dan took it. Thinking back, I have to ask myself why the hell did I buy that thing? I was desperate. I just needed basic transportation that would last until I got a few paychecks in the bank to upgrade. What I got was a big mistake.

After the purchase, James followed me in my rental car to drop it off. After turning in the rental car, we jumped into my new “Guam Bomb.” But, it didn’t start; it didn’t even try to turn over. I owned the car less than 20 minutes and it was already broke down. The rental car mechanic, Rick, took a look at it and gave a summary diagnosis – “it sounds like the starter’s dead.” Rick agreed to look at it the next day. James and I got back into the rental car and left. The next day, after my first day at work, I went back to see Rick. Unfortunately, Rick hadn’t found the time to look at it. He promised he would move it two blocks away to the rental car garage on Tuesday (the next day). I called Rick on Tuesday and he said that it was indeed the starter. That night I called Dan to see what he would be willing to do. Dan had been explicit before the transaction that the car was “as is” so I did not expect him to take the car back. To his credit, Dan did offer to split the cost of the repair. I called Rick again on Wednesday to get an update. He was having difficulty finding a starter for the car. Car parts are not found in great abundance on Guam, especially car parts for vehicles other than the predominant Toyotas and Nissans. Rick called me back on Thursday to report he had obtained a rebuilt starter and would be finished later that day, but wanted to show me another car he had for sale. Rick was trying to sell a ’91 Cadillac Deville. After showing me what he and his coworker Bruno had done to replace, Bruno then went over the laundry list of additional things that need to be done. The radiator leaked, the brakes needed work, the ignition switch needed to be replaced, and on and on. They recommended that I take it back if I could – they would have nothing more to do with it.


But Rick was persuasive with his Cadillac. Not only did it start and run, but “this is no Guam Bomb,” Rick assured me. It ran very smoothly and braked well. Rick needed money immediately and agreed to multiple payments totaling $1,500 in exchange for the car. He also promised to stand behind the Cadillac if it broke down immediately. So I bought the Cadillac, still unsure of how I was ever going to rid myself of the Mitsubishi.

It also dawned on me that I still own two more cars in the states, a Ford Ranger in California and a Mercedes Benz in Tennessee. I own four cars?

After paying Rick an initial payment of $800 plus $200 for fixing the starter on the Mitsubishi, I realized how utterly broke I was. Long before my arrival on Guam, I had been leaking money like the Exxon Valdez. Not only was I required to pay my way to Guam, but I had to take care of all my incidental expenses once I arrived. I was near the braking point and I hadn't even found a place to live.

Early the next week, I called Dan to get 1/2 of the repair costs that he promised to pay. To my surprise and elation, Dan offered to take the car back and call it even (loss of $200 to me). YES! One car down. On the same day, my Dad left two messages on my cell phone. The first one: "Ben, this is Dad, I think I have someone interested in buying your car. Call me back as soon as you can." What an amazing turn of events! I need to call Dad immediately. The next message: "Ben, this is Dad. I sold your car. Give me a call back."

So as quickly as I had amassed four cars and dire financial straights, I had got rid of two and temporarily settled my money woes.

The Arrival of the Midget Submarine

If I were to remain true to a strict chronological narrative, I should now begin to spin the tail of my GREAT GUAMANIAN CAR SAGA, but in many respects it is still ongoing and I just don't want to think about it right now. Instead I will regale you, dear reader, with a story of my second day on the job.

My third day on the island is also my first day at my new job. In retrospect it was extremely short sided to begin my job so soon after my arrival. I wish I had allowed myself an entire week or at least another day or two to search for a place to live, or a car or even to explore. But instead on Monday morning, March 31st, I check out of my hotel, pack my bags in my rental car and head to work. Do I know where I will be sleeping later that night? Nope. All I know is I can no longer afford to stay at that hotel. I arrive at the Park Headquarters in Hagatna, Guam's capitol. I do the standard meet and greet followed by hours of paper work then I drive the government vehicle to the Visitor Center about 8 miles south of Hagatna near Santa Rita. Although the VC has been open since July, almost all the exhibits are temporary. A short time later I head to lunch with my new coworkers James and Robert. We meet one of James' friends Bret. Coincidentally, Bret is looking to rent out a room at his house in Tumuning. It is affordable and on a month to month basis. I jump all over that.

After my second day at work, a day spent doing paper work and reading a large volume of "Standard Operating Procedures for Interp Division," NPS people begin to arrive at the VC. I am then told we are about to receive an original 80 foot Japanese Midget Submarine from the Navy base. KICK ASS! Its new home will be right in front of the Visitor Center.

After another two hours of waiting it arrives. Guided by a police escort, the sub sails into view sitting on top of a flatbed trailer. The trailer is only 60 feet long, so about 20 feet of submarine is hanging off the back. It is much bigger than I imagined.

James explains the sub's history: In August 1944, this submarine beached off the southeast coast of Guam. Guam was only declared secure on August 10, a few days before. Marines swam out to the sub but the crew refused to open the hatch or come out. For days the Japanese crew refused to surrender, but finally three days later, the two man crew gave up. The sub was moved onto the island and then as the Navy base was established, began its new life as a large lawn ornament. Earlier this year the Navy decided to donate it to the National Park Service.

During the war, Japan built thousands of midget submarines. The last model, the type C could go 300 miles and reach speeds up to 20 knots. Despite the vast numbers and technical prowess, midget submarines were completely ineffective and only sunk one ship during the entire war. Only six are known to exist. We have one of them.

The sub's arrival is an excellent opportunity to get to know my new coworkers. We talk and crack jokes as we watch and wait. One of my coworkers looks confused. I ask if there is anything wrong. "I was just thinking," he begins, "is it still OK to call it a 'Midget' submarine? Maybe its not P.C. to call it that." I stare at him cautiously not knowing if he is serious. "Maybe we should call the little people sub, or the miniature sub, or something." At this point I can not help but laugh out loud. Lucky for me, people around me also heard the comment and join in my chuckle. After the sub is moved into position in what can only be described as a well choreographed ballet, we head home. In the twilight with the newly placed lighting, the 50 ton submarine dramatically beacons more than any sign possibly could.

Day 2

I wake up early, shower and then I’m off to the north. The previous day, James suggested I meet up with him and some of his friends at a northern beach for a trash pickup Sunday morning. Having nothing better to do, I decide to go. Guam is bisected by one major road – Marine Corp Drive. It goes from Anderson Airforce Base in the extreme north to the Navy Base in the extreme south. After 20 minutes, I realize I’ve driven too far and turn around. Amazingly I somehow find the correct turnoff and descend the steep cliff to the beach “park” bellow. I realize that this is not a park for tourists, but one frequented by the locals. There are some old concrete signs and a large trash filled parking area, but despite the ill kept appearance, it is beautiful. I meet James and some other people and begin to pick up trash. We head away from the main parking down a dirt road that leads to an amazing cove. Trash covers the beach and road for over a mile. And I mean a lot of trash. There are more than one places where large families have held a cookout and then left everything when they were done. One pile is clearly from the night before complete with food, Styrofoam plates, hot dog wrappers, raw meat wrappers, empty bags of buns, chips, and cookies as well as several dirty diapers and not to mention the dozens of empty beer cans. I am truly disgusted. We pick up garbage for over three hours and barely leave a mark. The sheer volume of garbage is mind blowing. On a side note, a few days before I arrived on Guam, the territorial land fill run by the local government was placed in receivership by U.S. Federal court order. Apparently in 1987 the EPA notified the landfill authorities that the landfill was in violation of a number of environmental protection laws. After over twenty years of warnings and fines with no results, a Federal judge felt he had no alternative than to take the landfill away from local authority and give it to a private company out of Virginia of all places. Reporters from the Guam Pacific Daily News arrive to report the event. They take this picture and even though I've been on the island for less than 48 hours, I've already made the paper (I'm in green). http://www.guampdn.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2008803310307

Day 1

I wake up about eight. I am surprisingly refreshed. I head down to the beach bar and restaurant to get breakfast. I order an omelet. Ten minutes later the waitress comes out and tells me the power is out and I won’t be able to have my omelet. Eventually I settle for a bagel and some fruit. Back at the room, I give James a call. He picks me up and and takes me to Cars Unlimited to rent a car.

For $25 a day I get a 1999 Nissan Sentra that has seen better days. It is dented, rusty, the paint is faded and chipped, and the interior isn’t much better. But it does drive at low speeds and the AC works. I follow him south through Tamuning, Hagatna, Asan, and Santa Rita to his girlfriend’s house in the hills overlooking Apra Harbor. Apra Harbor is Guam’s main port and is predominately a naval base. It is a spectacular view. After a few minutes we head back down the hill to the Visitor Center near Santa Rita. James works as a cultural resources Park Ranger which means he works on the museum collections among other projects. On occasional weekends James does a “curator’s corner” program at the V.C. I help him get out some rare WWII guns and get a glimpse of the extensive NPS collection. After the program I head back to Tamuning and walk around the beach for another amazing sunset. After that, I’m back to the room for sleep (still trying to adjust to the time change).

DISCLAIMER

I'm sorry. I know the few people that check this blog are probably disappointed that I have not yet posted anything from Guam. I have been incredibly busy and while I've already had a major and continuing crisis (details to come), I doing fine and the bottom line - I'm having a great time. So here's a little bit without pictures and as soon as things calm down I will update this with more detail and pictures.

Arrival

Friday 6:30pm
I got off the plane and much to my surprise both my checked bags had made it. Next I went through customs. Everyone has a passport but me. I’m worried. The officer asks for ID and accepts my Tennessee Drivers license. I’m relieved. “How long are you staying?” he asks. “One to four years,” I reply. I get through and proceed towards the car rental area. I have no idea if anyone will be picking me up and I am very doubtful that anyone will be here. “Ben!” someone shouts from my left. Whoa someone is here to pick me up – THANK THE LORD! Wait a minute… how did that guy know who I am? I must look very out of place. Well, I’m white, most people are not. I am very pale and even the few other white people are at least a little tan. But it turns out, it was my NPS tote bag that gave me away. I am greeted by James. Although he is much older than me, James is a STEP ranger, meaning he is a student working part time. James is actually wearing a Hawaiian shirt (cliché or just coincidence?). The heat and humidity hit me like I’ve just walked inside Godzilla’s mouth. It is similar to Tennessee in August right after a cloud burst. James takes me to his lifted but battered Jeep Wrangler and we take off. He gives me a quick drive around Tumon, the main tourist area of Guam. With the traffic, stores and sprawl, it could be anywhere, USA. Tumon is a mélange of stores and hotels with some English, but mostly Japanese signs. All the buildings are square concrete boxes in various states of decay. While there are many lavish hotels, poverty is very noticeable and the decaying concrete buildings give me a 3rd world vibe. The impressive tourist attractions such as Underwater World, the Hard Rock Café, and Planet Hollywood as well as the trendy and expensive stores such as Louis Vuitton and Rolex clash with the rundown eateries and “XXX” adult themed establishments almost next door. We continue toward the Tumon beach. James pulls up almost to the beach itself. We get out and walk about ten yards to the water. It must be high tide. The red sun is setting over Tumon bay and small puffs of clouds are smeared across the horizon. Both the clouds and the calm ocean reflect the amber hues of the setting sun. It is amazing. “Wow,” I manage to mutter. “Sucks doesn’t it?” James adds. James begins to talk to some of the people around us on the beach. I break away from the sunset and notice that James actually knows most of the completely random people on the beach around us and begins to introduce me. Of course I don’t remember any names. Among the random sampling of people on the beach I meet a French guy who runs the Louis Vuitton store, a former U.S. Olympic swimmer, and one of my future co-workers. After only 15 minutes we head to my hotel in the neighboring village of Tamuning. I check in, drop off my stuff and head down to the beachfront bar. I have a beer and realize how utterly exhausted I am. It’s only 8:30, but I head back to the room and crash.

Getting to Guam

After leaving Manzanar, I flew to South Carolina to visit family before leaving the mainland. I get back to California and spend a couple of days before I take the big flight. I arrive at LAX way too early on the morning of the 27th of March. After going through the fastest security line I have ever been experienced, I settle down for the two hour wait to get on the plane. I got there way too early – and there were still lots of people. Finally I get on the plane and sleep almost the entire way to Hawaii. About five hours later I’m in the Aloha state waiting in the airport. By the time I board the plane, I am sick of planes and airports. The flight begins and I begin to have a conversation with the passenger next to me. He’s a native of Guam – a Chamorro by the name of Peter Cruz. He is going home to his grandmother’s funeral and he hasn’t been to Guam in over ten years. “You’re gonna have a great time,” he assures me. An hour into the flight, I begin to watch the TV show House on the video screen in front of me. Two hours later I try to sleep but can’t and two hours later I watch the same four House episodes again. After an eternity we land on Guam. Looking out the window as we taxi to the airport terminal, Peter recognizes two people. The door finally opens and I escape. Free at last!