It's so good to be back on Roi, diving and enjoying adventures on the atoll with good friends. There's just something about this place. "Roi Resort" is definitely an apt nickname for those who aren't required to live in its isolation every day of the year. I've never been a full time resident, but I have spent enough time to get a sense of how different it is for long term residents versus the "downtown" Kwajalein visitors and "baggers" (nickname for those who live on Kwaj, but commute back and forth to Roi on the plane daily). When you live here all the time, the smallness of the place (only around 80 full time residents), the lack of food to cook with and enjoy at the one convenience store on island (there's no grocery or department stores on Roi as there are on Kwajalein), the limited entertainment options (Kwajalein has a bowling alley, two theaters, a range of various community activities almost every weekend; whereas, Roi does the best they can with the one fabulous activities director for the residents), and the general "forgotten stepchild" feel of the island to residents who hear and see of various ways Kwajalein folks and their non-working family members are catered too (there's no housing or children allowed to live on Roi, so everyone here works with the exception of one or two wives), it can become a "hardship" assignment in most senses of the word. It's an unfortunate phenomenon because without the radars and missile and space junk tracking capabilities of those radars located on Roi-Namur, Kwajalein would not exist. The radars are critical to the U.S. purpose of the testing range. The residents here should be treated more like Iron Man rather than like Cinderella before she became a princess.
That said, it takes a certain type of person to live here for very long. You have to be strong enough to handle the isolation without being overcome by loneliness, depression, or maybe even slightly crazed thoughts. You have to be able to remind yourself of the advantages over the disadvantages of life here almost daily. And you have to learn to appreciate the beautiful differences between Kwaj and Roi to fully enjoy it. For example, Roi is half covered with actual jungle. This jungle is filled with gorgeous butterflies, disintegrating WWII Japanese bunkers and gun placements, and fantastically bright green foliage and various flowering plants. Every time the boys and I cruise through it in our rented golf cart, we find a previously unexplored path or "secret hiding place" to crunch our way through and discover treasures such as an old radio or coke bottle or even more exciting for little boys, a shell from a 50 cal gun where we can picture soldiers hiding and fighting over 6 decades ago on the very piece of ground on which we stand. There's also a number of lush, private beach shacks on the lagoon side which residents take care of, but are all too happy to share with whoever wants to relax in their comfy hammocks under wooden coverings for shade and often with grills to make a day of it. My boyfriend recently wrote the best promotion of his shack in an e-mail sent to friends who thought they might not have a place to stay while visiting, so we were going to set up the tents for them to camp. It was such a appealing description of his secluded shack with a fresh outdoor shower and built in air conditioning provided by the trade winds and music to provide sound sleep created by the waves just a few feet away that we were all ready to settle down in it as if it was the finest accommodations on a resort tropical island such as Tahiti. I wish I could cut and paste his description here for you all to read, but alas, it's on my computer at work, plus, I need to ask his permission first anyway. Point being, sometimes it's all a matter of perspective.
If we can learn to be content in our circumstances, no matter what those are, then we have achieved true peace and because of this, we will be able to handle whatever life throws our way in its chaotic, roller coaster ride of constant changes. For me, Roi means diving the airplanes as we did today, which is something much harder to find on Kwaj. It's mostly ships there, which are exciting too, but seeing those airplanes which used to fly so high settled completely on the bottom of the ocean and providing a home to so many magnificent anemones, fish, and brilliantly colored and structured soft and hard corals is a symbol of accepting our fate, our current place in life, and finding joy and peace in it. Roi-Namur has some of the best diving in the world, and those of us who are lucky enough to dive it, can count that as one of the advantages of life here. There are also the people who live here, who have decided to make Roi their home and not Kwajalein, and they are quite special too. Some of the warmest, most engaging people I have ever met, I've found on Roi. I think it attracts people who are in many ways more insightful and reflective than those from the "bigger cities" like Kwajalein. Because of the isolation, you have to like yourself and spending time on your own, and that usually means you are comfortable in your own skin and able to reflect on who you are and who others are and accept people more easily without judgement. You also recognize your room for growth, and for me, this is definitely a place where I can grow, where I have the time to read, write, and see life in a different way, and accept its hardships along with its beauty. Life at Roi Resort is pretty unique, and I for one, am thankful for those friends I've made here who have accepted me into their hearts, invited me into their lives, and considered me a "sudo Roi-Rat" even though I've never had the opportunity to become a full fledged resident.
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