Like a Cocoon

The beds in the hostel are like a cocoon. They are enclosed in pods, like pine boxes, and sounds are muted. I sleep for two hours and then wake up to the evening. Today is hot. But I dance in the heat and enjoy the cover songs the band play. It is a pride march in Seoul, Korea. I it find by accident while walking back to my room in Myeongdong from one of the royal shrines—a beautiful garden in the heart of the city. I have a week in Seoul. It is cheaper to spend the time here than to fly direct from Yap via Honolulu.

My last two months in Yap go by in a flash. I find out that my college will not create a new position for me as a researcher, and my contract ends soon. I start sending out applications. What a surprise when I am hired in only five weeks, with only seven queries sent. That’s far less than the 400 applications I send to find this job in Yap four years ago. I have a lot to do to tie up loose ends.

I make arrangements for an apartment in South Carolina, where I’m teaching next. And post a video of James Taylor singing online to let my friends know. It is a real shock.

There is still enough time to run one set of experiments. I order a few more things on Amazon and they arrive without a problem. I have twenty pounds of powdered charcoal, the activated kind used for make-up, soapmaking and toothpaste. I buy a full length (20’) of half-inch PVC pipe and try to pack it in. The idea is to mimic the action of water through an aquifer. The dissolved minerals flow and set up an electrical potential in the rock. It is called self-potential or streaming potential. It can create a few volts.

But the powder packs in air, and I have trouble tamping it down. The pipe bends and I twirl it around to help, but it is not easy. I abandon the half-inch PVC in favor of a shorter two-inch pvc pipe I order before. I add small granules of activated charcoal as well. In total it is about ten pounds packed inside.

I spend more than twenty hours to get the digital multimeter to log the data into my laptop. I am running Linux instead of Windows, and the app I find needs an old set of python libraries (PyQt4). It works. The pipe plus charcoal doesn’t produce any voltage. I let the logger gather data for a few hours overnight.

In the morning the wonderful caretaker of the apartment and his son help me put the pipe in the ocean by a bridge. Rabo arranges permission for us to work in the shade by the side of one of the resorts on the island, and ties bamboo to the ends of the pipe for guiding it into place. We have success. The experiment logs 40 millivolts consistently for pipe that is less than ten feet long. It is a good start. The powder impedes water flow a bit and there are some dry regions inside we find as we clean it out. A longer pipe and more granules with less powder will probably increase the voltage in the future. It is the first example I know of where streaming potential is used as a model for generating electricity.

My friends make arrangements. They make sure I will come to our community volleyball match on Sunday. They plan ice-cream eating and other contests along with the volleyball games. It feels like a very sweet kid’s party. It is my farewell. A friend also named Daniel spends hours arranging a basket of fruit just right for me. I have a wonderful time. And the next day is another party, by Rabo and also the owner of the apartment, one of the former governors of the island. I eat an entire pomelo and talk to a businessman from Pohnpei about new technology and wireless projects in Yap. That is Monday. On Tuesday I head to the Oceania Hotel and Restaurant for another farewell. It is so bittersweet. I don’t have enough time to share all the thoughts in my heart, as the flight will be leaving soon. I head back and finish packing. I realize in Guam that I forget the charger for my laptop. But it is no problem. I buy a new charger at Micropac, the one on the road opposite the ITC building. First I head to the Micronesia Mall. There are hundreds of people lined up here. I ask a security guard. It is to get relief funding for Typhoon Mawar. For food stamps. The storm devastates the island a few weeks earlier. It is only by luck that there are not a lot of casualties. The airport is closed and now reopened, but with renovations needed. The carpeting is all gone.

When I head from Yap, I say a last goodbye to many people. A former student comes to the apartment with her brother and they give me a lei to wear. I am stacked high with three leis around my neck and four on my head. At the airport another former student who works there wishes me well. And another friend comes to see me off. I park for a time in Guam and sleep in the rental car for a few hours, and then start on my successful search for the charger.

The flight is only four and a half hours to Seoul. I arrive and take the express train to Seoul Station and then the subway to Myeongdong. It is night but there are still sellers with street food and stalls, and the stores there are open. I walk for a bit and then ask for help from a shop that sells Korean cosmetics. The salesperson is happy and finds the hostel on her phone. It is only a block away. I buy some products for my daughter as a way of saying thanks, and make my way to the 15th floor of the building where reception is. The time here is easy.

My first full day is full of rain. I head to the National Museum and see so many artifacts and scenes of Korea’s past and enjoy my wandering. I meet two students who are traveling from France, and we talk about their plans for the future. They are master’s students in hospitality and tourism, and I talk about grantwriting as a way to raise some capital. It’s not an easy thing to join the job market.

The night before, my first night in Seoul, it is evening and I go to a Seven-Eleven and buy a fruit cup of tomatoes and grapes, and chat with two women who are visiting from Japan. They teach cheerleading, and I get them to train me in some cheer routines. We have a good time laughing. They live in Osaka, near enough to make the trip a few times in the past.

And today, after a hot day wandering through a nearby market and the shrine, I stumble into a pride march. I join in the colorful procession. After forty minutes I see the stage. The band plays three songs. “Cake by the Ocean” is a fun one, and I dance hard despite the heat.

In a few days I return to Los Angeles and then after a month will head to Spartanburg, South Carolina. Wofford College hires me to teach environmental studies classes. I am cover for a professor taking sabbatical. The people I meet via Zoom are all so friendly. I am planning my classes already.