pacific ocean | Captivated Me

Rota: Touch the light.

Rota. The island that blew me away. Where every place I visited, every person I encountered, every lesson I learned, every view I beheld felt like a hug from heaven.

Called ‘Luta’ in Chamorro, this is the third most populous island in the Northern Mariana archipelago, with somewhere between 2,500 and 3,000 residents as of 2020. Measuring around 32 square miles, it lies just less than 80 miles due southwest of Saipan. It is home to one of the warmest, friendliest, most relaxed communities I have ever encountered; to seemingly infinite beautiful sights, sounds, and scents; to numerous unique birds, some found exclusively in Rota; and to so many more gems, too numerous to list.

Words escape me when I try to describe how memorable this trip was. How full, whole and precious each moment was. What I can say is that it was the kind of retreat that leaves you with greater peace, deeper trust, and sharper clarity of purpose than when you arrived. And it is the sort of space that will gently teach you about yourself and about God’s love as you hike amidst its vast, mysterious mountains and palm tree jungles; enjoy its cool azure waters; or wind along its quiet, rocky roads to the tune of the local radio station.

A few of what feel like infinite highlights:

There is a custom on Rota called the ‘Rota Wave’. Any time you drive past an oncoming car, you lift your fingers from the steering wheel and acknowledge the other driver with a gentle wave.
Three giant orange sea turtles said hello, one while scuba diving, two while riding the waves near shore before submerging.
Scuba diving with a school of hundreds of convict surgeonfish.
Meeting so many kind souls and strangers who treated me like family: Tita Susan at Tiana’s Café, Calvin and friends at Alaguon Point, Officer Jim on Mount Sabana, Dive Masters Rubinsan and Daisukesan, Lynne from my AirBnB.
Scaling a dried waterfall, using tree roots as climbing rope, to a landing where the morning rains left only a small trickling natural cascade.
Watching hundreds of birds, some exclusively found on Rota and nowhere else, return to perch at I’Chenchon Park Bird Sanctuary just before sunset.
Standing stupefied at the summit of Mount Sabana, marveling at the sunset and the horizon.
Winding down on the AirBnB balcony at the end of the night, flamenco and jazz playing, full moon overhead.

As for my favorite moment here by far, it went a little something like this:

My dive master and I each flipped our way backward off the edge of the boat and met at the bow before deflating our vests and submerging to the depth of the underwater cave that we planned to enter. We swam toward the large access point and squinted into the darkened space, noticing the lustrous scales of small schools of fish resting in the recesses by the little light that shone in from the open water behind us. All of a sudden, clouds outside parted, and a pillar of sunshine cut through a small opening in the cave’s rocky roof overhead. This cast a sharp, defined, shimmering stream of light directly downward through the water like a search and rescue beam, which bounced off the floor of the cave and refracted to illuminate the whole space.

It.
Was.
Stunning.

We took a few moments to marvel at the spectacle from various vantage points within the cave. My dive master then took out his writing tablet and penned ‘TOUCH THE LIGHT’ in all caps, gesturing toward the spotlight. At first, I didn’t understand what he meant. I was still trying to process the magic of this ethereal phenomenon we were seeing! His prompt finally registered, and I slowly approached the pillar, practicing the gliding kick he had shown me earlier in the morning. I extended my arm into the light, studying how it radiated over the contours of my salt-pruned hands. Then, I moved my whole body into the beam, allowing my eyes to follow it upward to the source, the sun glowing through that small orifice and the dancing, faceted water surface above. I reached for it. A million mental pictures and reflections ensued at once.

In that moment, I thought about former seasons in life that were darkened by pain or fear. I thought about how some days, there were only small moments of sunshine to hold onto, to ‘touch’ and lean into and grab hold of. And I thought about how much healing and sweetness God has redeemed from those seasons, how those once-tiny glimpses of light have grown into a sunburst that now seems to illuminate everything I see, filling my heart with gratitude and faith, wonder and delight.

I thought about the hugs and smiles and love of family and friends, the passions and dreams God places within each of us that set our hearts on fire, the prayers already answered and the ones that lie in wait, the way God is so faithful through highlands and heartaches. And I found myself praying:

Help us to live lives in which we seek to ‘touch the light’,
To lean into the people and passions and moments and experiences that light us up,
To always look for the shining lining in the clouds and caves of life,
And to keep hopeful hearts in any season:
In those that feel dark and in those that are flooded with sunshine.

I’m grateful, if you please, to share some of the footage of this special island with you. 🤍

May 30, 2022

Saipan: History Edition

History is palpable, accessible on this precious island. Its seasons are commemorated with a thoughtful and well-done museum in downtown Garapan, housed in what once served as a small community hospital during the era of Japan’s reign. The displays here trace the island’s journey from past to present – from pre-contact days through eras of botanical exploration by the French, from Spain’s colonization of the land through Germany’s and Japan’s and, ultimately, the United States.

Overwhelmingly, though, history here is something that you hike to, dive to, walk past, stumble upon as you explore the multitude of open, public spaces where you can tread. Not sterilized behind gates and glass cases, but saturated throughout the island itself. For instance:

Old Japanese Jail: This former jail sits one block from my apartment complex. Overgrown by nature, and surrounded by homes, its crumbling walls and metal grates exude an eerie but compelling air. I walked the halls here and peered into the cells, for which the floor is dug into the ground relative to the raised hallways. Where prisoners once dwelled, large tree trunks now rose overhead, and light peered in through the concrete-framed windows. Legend tells that Amelia Earhart was jailed here at one point during her excursion across the Pacific. Legend also tells that her body is buried on this very block, though no physical evidence has been found to prove this.

Sugar King Park:

A man named Matsue Haruji, originally from Japan, pioneered the sugar processing and export enterprise that was so important to economic growth in the Northern Mariana’s in the early 1900’s. There is a park nestled in the heart of Garapan honoring his success with a statue of his likeness, along with:

– A commemorative tree planted as a friendship exchange between the island of Saipan and the city of Aizu wakamatsu (where Mr. Haruji was from)

– A reconstructed Shinto shrine called Katori Jinja (the original of which was destroyed in World War II)

– A set of delapidating rocky staircase lined with tropical foliage and caves which formerly led to a flag tower used by German administrators in the 1900s to signal visiting ships,

– A hexagonal pagoda that serves as an international house of prayer in Saipan, and

– The famed ‘Bell of Peace and Love’ which, when rung, serves as a vow on the part of the ringer to pursue a life of peace and love, and guarantees that he or she will return to this special place again.

Christo Rai Bell Tower:

Just off the main Beach Road along the western lagoon stands a historic stone tower, constructed in the 1930s and still rising tall to this day. The original church building affiliated with this tower, a Catholic parish called Christo Rai, was destroyed in 1944 during the invasion of Saipan, and a new church has since been erected.

What a humbling and sobering privilege it is to learn about the long and faceted journey that this island and its people have been on for so long. As I continue my time here, I am eager to keep learning and trying to understand both the beauties and the harsh realities that Saipan has faced. More brief historical editions are to come.

May 7, 2022

Forbidden and Hidden.

Two gorgeous treks unfolded before my feet over the past couple of weeks, and I would love to share them with you:

Forbidden Island: One of the many scenic hikes on the island, Forbidden is an adventurer’s favorite. Starting on the cliffside overlooking the Pacific to the east, you begin by hiking through jungle to breathtaking views of two separate coves. The first is a sheer drop-off where you can see the lush jungle rising up to your left side, the clear turquoise water below crashing on the reef, and a rocky cliff to the right. You then continue through tall and dense foliage to a somewhat gentler slope that you hike down to approach the island itself. From the shore, you can venture northeast along the beach to a junction with gorgeous views of both coves, forward into the channel between Saipan and Forbidden Island, or hike the cliffs and caves to the southeast. This particular day, we braved the channel, swollen with large waves and current as the tide changed, and spent a few minutes exploring the uninhabited, rugged, flat-topped Forbidden Island. Birds sung overhead, and would perch on the large boulders towering all around us. Gorgeous views of Saipan were seen from here. These moments were memorable and magical, even more so given I hiked here on the one year anniversary of my grandfather’s death. It proved to be a special place to heal and sit with the gratitude I feel for my grandfather and for his precious role in my life.

Hidden Beach: I parked my car at the end of a paved roadway, and walked along a palm-lined gravel path to a rugged stairway leading toward the ocean. A sweet sun shower sprinkled down from fluffy clouds above as I walked, refreshing my skin from the heat of the day. The clouds dispersed, and the sun shone on a tiny gem of a stretch of sand ahead. Hidden Beach boasts clear aquamarine waters, a crocodile-shaped rock formation, and a large stony shelf not far off shore where waves crash, causing immense ocean sprays. I came here after a 24-hour call shift, took photos, and marveled for hours at the rolling water, and at how I somehow had this stunning vista all to myself.