"Wow! It's jammed here today; I wouldn't
expect this mid-week, mid-day."
Grocery carts
around us were piled with 40-pound bags of rice, groaning under the extreme
weight. Families, raucous children
in tow, were stuffing their carts with staples and treats. While the Pay-Less had some unusual
specials (your choice of free Cornish Hens, or various snack foods if you spent
over $100), it didn't seem enough to drive this customer onslaught.
"Wait,
what day is it?"
"Tuesday?"
"No, day
of the month?"
"The
first."
"Didn't
Margaret warn us about shopping on the first?"
Our friends
Margaret and Jeff (Jeff, a Chamorro, with ancient roots on Guam has lived here
his whole life; Margaret was an Air Force brat and had moved with her family to
Guam when she was very young and stayed) had told us that the first was when
food stamp credits were issued on the island and families, at the end of their
monthly supplies, re-stocked their kitchens.
Almost 50,000
people on Guam receive food stamps, or close to one-third of the
population. This is a
significantly higher percentage than even Mississippi (at around 22% of the
population who receive food stamp benefits), the poorest state on the mainland. But like much of Guam, there's another
story if you look beneath the surface.
This story has to do with the Compact.
The Compact is
technically, "The Compacts of Free
Association between the United States and the Federated States of Micronesia
(FSM), Republic of the Marshall Islands (RMI), and Republic of Palau." The federal law, passed in 1986, allows
citizens of Micronesia, the Marshall Islands, and Palau to come to Guam without
needing visas and to work, take advantage of public services, and collect
government benefits, like food stamps.
Compared to most of the surrounding Pacific, Guam is the land of
opportunity, and, even more importantly, United State federal government
benefits, including minimum wage and labor laws, which do not apply elsewhere
in Micronesia. Micronesia, the
Marshall Islands, and Palau all exist in a sort of political limbo under the
United States Government umbrella: they have limited and complicated rights
that aren't clearly defined and remain essentially autonomous protectorates,
whereas Guam has official status, completely self-governed, and Guamanians are
full US citizens and protected by federal law. Sort of. As you
get to know Guam, you find quickly that there's a great deal of wiggle room on
how you read which federal laws apply and when.
But that's a
different thread; back to the Compact.
If you talk to the average employed Guamanian, the Compact is much to
blame for the government's continuing debt, the high cost of housing on Guam,
and low wages. When Congress
passed the Compact, there were provisions by which "Gov Guam" (as
everyone calls the government here) would be reimbursed on an annual basis for
the cost of providing benefits for these immigrants. But very quickly, the federal government stopped providing
full funding for the impact, or, at least according to Gov Guam, which compiles
a legally mandated yearly report on these costs.
Gov Guam,
which is the only tax collecting body on the island (no local school districts
or other political entities have taxing authority), gets revenue from a strange
hybrid system. Citizens of Guam
pay federal income taxes, but the money goes straight to Gov Guam, and Gov Guam
is responsible for tax refunds, not the federal government. Indicative of how government
"works" on Guam is the way Guam got through the 2008 recession: by
not issuing tax refunds. In fact,
only in the last 8 months or so has Gov Guam caught up on tax refunds. (Gov Guam also has about $1 billion in
long term bonded debt, although the actual amount is a subject of political
controversy.)
Income tax
funds about 50% of the general fund.
Additionally, Gov Guam assesses a "gross receipts tax" (the
GRT), basically a tax on everything imported to the island (but, there's no
sales tax in Guam - the GRT acts as a sort of "value added"
tax.) That accounts for about 40%
of government revenue. Then there
are federal government grants and programs, the same that any state would be
eligible for and with the same kind of criteria as well as the aforementioned
Compact reimbursement program; that's the last 10%. Guam also assesses a small property tax, although they don't
do a particularly good job of collecting it. And then there are dedicated taxes, i.e., gas taxes for
roads; hotel taxes for tourism; etc.
Gov Guam has
only one legislative body: it's senate, with 15 at large, elected
representatives, who serve two-year terms. Additionally, Guam has a full judicial system to administer
its locally passed laws. And, Guam
has 19 villages (see map at the beginning of this post), ranging in population from under 2,000 to over 40,000 and each
village (none of which have any taxation authority) has an elected Mayor and
Vice Mayor who are full time, highly paid employees of Gov Guam, as are the
elected senators of Guam. The
Mayors report to the Executive branch and have limited official powers, other
than the ability to hire people to do park and "village" maintenance
with funds coming from Gov Guam.
However, because of their ability to hire constituents into plum jobs,
the mayors wield huge political (and, ergo, economic) power. Gov Guam is the largest employer on
Guam (now larger than the military) and the average pay for a Gov Guam employee
is around twice the average pay of people employed in the private sector. Gov Guam employees (which include
public school employees) also receive full health, pension, and other benefits,
which are extremely rare in the tourist driven private sector of the economy.
Nothing is
ever as simple as it first appears on Guam. On an island, in this part of the world, culture, politics,
and economics are really all part of the same puzzle. And, to better understand the puzzle (no solutions
promised), you have to look at history, all the way back to ancient history.
Guam and the
surrounding islands were settled originally around 4,000 years ago by the
Chamorro, a stocky, seafaring group that probably migrated from the Malay
Peninsula via outrigger boats (called "Proa.") Chamorro society was highly organized
and successful taking advantage of nature's bounty in the sea and the
jungles. It was also a rigid caste
system with no movement among the three groups, and almost no interaction
between the top caste and the lowest caste; the middle caste served as
intermediaries. You were born into
power or not, and you stayed in power for generation after generation.
Even in
ancient times, Chamorro society was formed into insular, well-organized
villages, with the upper castes on the coast, closest to the abundant fishing
grounds. The Chamorro would mine
the volcanic and coral limestone rock and create large, cone-shaped pillars
that would narrow, and then widen to a circular platform called
"Lattes." These were
used as cornerstones for the platforms that comprised Chamorro structures,
found throughout Micronesia, and date back as far as 2000 years (from carbon
dating.)
Magellan visited Guam, and
was very impressed by the Chamorro Proas and how they sped across the water. He named Guam "Islas de las Velas Latinas"
("Islands of the Lateen sails".)
With its abundant resources and strategic position between their burgeoning
colonies in the Philippines and Mexico, Spain realized the importance of Guam
and claimed it for its crown.
In the
mid-seventeenth century, Spain had perfected extending its global power through
the Catholic Church. Missionaries
arrived on Guam and forced the Chamorro into a different village structure,
each centered on a local church.
They tried to break down the caste system and install only Jesus (and
the Spanish crown by divine extension) as the power to worship. Chamorro social life already was
organized around ritual feasts to celebrate family, social, and celestial
events. These celebrations, laden
with food, were one of the key binders of their society. The Spanish priests adapted to these
traditions, bringing them into the village church settings, and dedicating them
to Catholic saints. As the
Chamorro came to adopt Catholicism, these became Fiestas, and now are
celebrated not just on saint's days, but also for births, marriages, birthdays,
and funerals.
Every weekend,
driving around Guam, you see tents set up next to churches, in school parking
lots, in clusters of village housing compounds. Everyone is invited, including visiting strangers like us,
in this case, after Silvia had met Margaret at work, to her best friend's
niece's daughter's first birthday party.
We asked if we should bring food, but Margaret said no; just bring a
small gift for the birthday girl.
We were asked to
meet Margaret and her husband Jeff at the entrance to Macy's, at the Micronesia
Mall, Guam's biggest, at 6PM. It
was late Saturday afternoon and the parking lot was jammed and the mall car
lanes were filled with the various private buses catering to the oriental
tourist trade; shopping is serious entertainment on Guam. We had offered to meet them directly at
the Fiesta, but Margaret said we'd never find it on our own, and she was right.
About half an
hour late, Margaret and Jeff met us at the appointed spot with their sweet,
beautiful, one-year old grandson, Damian, in tow. Jeff, a stout, always smiling, gregarious retired fireman
extended a strong handshake and we were off to the countryside.
We headed north
to one of Guam's rural villages, Yigo (pronounced "jee-go".) North Guam is dominated by Anderson Air
Force Base, the US's largest Air Force base in the Pacific. But the land adjacent to the borders of
the base is covered with modest concrete block residences on narrow broken
asphalt roads. We threaded our way
through heavy traffic following Jeff and Margaret into a warren of dark side
streets. On the way, we passed at
least two other fiestas, tents standing awaiting the celebrants.
Even though we
were relatively early for the party, the street was already filled with parked
cars. Jeff motioned us to park
even further off the road as it was Saturday night, and as the evening wore on,
many drivers with impaired navigation skills would likely be weaving down the
narrow lane.
A short walk
took us to a driveway, slightly wider than a path, that led to three small
houses with an open space divided into 3 areas covered by tents around a middle
space with long, portable tables.
A DJ played under one tent where coolers filled with beer, soft drinks
and water sat. Another tent
covered an area where a photographer had set up with costumes and a
backdrop. The third covered area
had rows of folding chairs set up facing the middle area.
We were greeted
warmly and introduced to the mother and her birthday daughter, and chatted
amiably with the baby's grandmother and great grandmother. Guests were arriving, over 100 people
before the evening was over, many bringing covered dishes to the central table
which quickly filled to overflowing with homemade Chamorro food (red rice,
fried rice, white rice, barbeque chicken and pork, mixed vegetables, fried
fish, marinated fish, marinated chicken, fried chicken, salads, and a specially
prepared suckling pig.) The DJ
played popular tunes, with a nice mix of Reggae, Motown, and more recent
artists. Babies (including the
friendly and sweet Damien) sat on laps and were passed around when fussy; older
children roamed in noisy packs and took turns dressing up and having their
pictures taken. A short prayer was
recited and people lined up on both sides of the table to fill up their plates;
several times. A large bakery
birthday cake (chocolate, of course) supplemented home-made sweets on a
separate dessert table, which was invaded after a rendition of "Happy
Birthday", followed by a verse of the same tune with "May the Good
Lord Bless You" lyrics, the same as we'd always sung with Silvia's
Catholic family on birthdays.
The mix of
people reflected Guam's beautiful diversity: Filipino, Chamorro, Hispanic,
Chinese, Japanese, Mainlanders, African American. We weren't the only "friends of friends", and the
hosts treated everyone as honored guests.
You could almost sense the lineage of this tradition, its ancient roots,
its more recent adaptation to Catholic culture. We felt truly part of Guam.
We could not
leave without first helping ourselves to plates full of the remaining
food. Refrigeration is limited on
Guam, and even the 3 or 4 families that were sponsoring the fiesta would not
have room to store the mountainous leftovers; thus everyone as a matter of
course filled plates with their top choices and covered them with the provided
foil. And, in ancient time, there
was no refrigeration, so this tradition likely stretched back to the original
Chamorro. We ate well for the next
few days.
And food is
central to island culture; whenever there is a gathering, there is ample food,
often heavily fried. This is
reflected in public health statistics, unfortunately, as Guam has the third
highest rate of diabetes of any American state or protectorate, right behind
two other island cultures: Samoa and Hawaii. Some of this is genetic disposition, as Asians and Pacific
Islanders have hereditarily higher rates of diabetes, but Guam's public health
problems aren't limited to diabetes.
Life expectancy on Guam, at around 76 years, while significantly higher
than Micronesia, Samoa, and the Philippines, is lower than on the mainland, and
even lower than Puerto Rico. If
Guam were a state, it would rank around 45th in life expectancy.
But quality of
life isn't just about public health and life expectancy; it's about strong
social ties and sense of place and being.
Guamanians, not just Chamorro, place high value on family and social
connections, as well as acceptance of others. Gifts of money and tokens of gratitude are commonplace at
major family milestones: births, marriages, and deaths. Traditional Chamorro culture, with its
roots in rigid social structures, required a careful "bookkeeping" of
such gifts from family to family and a precise reciprocality. While this preciseness is quickly
disappearing from modern Guam culture, the monetary gift tradition is still
quite strong.
Guam family life
has also traditionally been matrilineal.
The brother of the mother is often the key father figure for the
children; aunts and uncles often are as important and revered as parents.
And, as with the
Philippines, family is also the source of power and influence on Guam. Perhaps the tradition is a direct
descendent of the ancient rigid caste structure of Guam; regardless, Guamanians
know well the powerful family names: Camacho, Cruz, Calvo, Flores among others. They are over-represented in every
aspect of Guam political and economic life and command allegiance through a
familiar system of favors and nepotism.
For someone like myself who grew up in and around Chicago, this system
is quite familiar.
Guam struggles
with social problems, some the makings of an often indifferent government
(abandoned buildings left to rot; feral dogs, descendents of World War II army
beagles and shepherds roam everywhere; litter and graffiti; serious problems
with invasive plants and animals; recycling is virtually non-existent; on a
tropical island with abundant sun and wind, there is virtually no solar or wind
energy generation except for a few individual residences; etc.); other problems
are more a direct result of low wages, poor quality schools, expensive cost of
living, and heavy alcohol and drug use.
Rape, especially, has become a serious problem. Prostitution is tolerated, often with
police looking the other way, perhaps in return for payoffs or other
favors. A recent scandal, in which
police acted as enforcers to keep forced labor prostitutes in line, ended up
with several high profile police officer convictions and long sentences. The main tourist area is lined with
massage parlors and strip clubs that are heavily patronized by Japanese
tourists and the military.
But for the
average middle class resident or tourist, Guam is extremely benign. There are occasional tourists victims
of purse snatchings and any belongings left in an unlocked car, or too long in
a locked car if visible, are likely to disappear. And, although there was a notorious incident three years ago
during which a local, mentally ill man went berserk and killed 3 innocent
tourists with a knife, violent crime against tourists and middle class
residents is pretty much unheard of.
By far the biggest danger for tourists is the ocean: swimming beyond the
reef can be extremely dangerous, and drownings are not uncommon, although the
victims are usually locals who are drunk and should know better, not tourists.
Sitting here,
viewing out my office window at Tumon Bay, large puffy clouds, high-rise
hotels, and verdant hills framing the bay, I find myself loving Guam. I guess I could complain about the
monotony of the weather (never cold, a bit hot during the day; trade winds
usually blowing; tropical rains occasionally giving us a quick drenching), but
no one would care and would be irritated at my lack of appreciation for never
having to think what jacket to wear outside. (The toughest decision is bring the umbrella or not; usually
yes; and, will the inside of where we are going be over-air-conditioned?)
Above all,
Guam's natural beauty is stunning and her people among the most interesting, diverse,
charming, and accepting in the world.
And, it's not just a surface friendliness - perhaps it's a product of
island culture, where natives don't have much opportunity to leave (although
there is a significant Chamorro Diaspora on the mainland, especially on the
West Coast), but Guamanians are truly interested in visitors and if you move
here, you are quickly embraced regardless of your background or culture. Even after only one or two visits,
staff at the restaurants we frequent remember us, even our names, and it's not
good training - even the best restaurant on the island, Proa, has a hard time
getting everyone's food to the table at the same time. You adjust to and learn to appreciate
"island time": how can you be in a rush when there's so much natural
beauty, good food, and so many people with interesting stories all around
you? The answer is simple: you
can't be in a hurry, not if you want to enjoy the trip. And, isn't that what it's all about,
experiencing the journey? Puzzle
solved, I guess.
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