The Other Frontier

Last month a short article, hidden in the homepage carnival of the New York Times online, spoke of Alaska, specifically how it is presented as the homeland of Sarah Palin, as the "last true frontier." Alaska's distance, "its mammoth size, its severe climate, its many unpopulated miles," contribute to the perception that the state is the American testing-ground for ideologies, the human spirit, and isolated governance.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/09/14/weekinreview/14roberts.html?partner=permalink&exprod=permalink

Guam is way further West than Alaska. Though it is smaller, more densely populated, and has a relatively consistent climate (humid), I want to make the case for Guam as another incarnation of the American frontier (it is a territory), and for myself as a casual observer/collector of some of the stories that rise from the steaming post-rain asphalt.

Today, our first full day on the island, Sloan and I followed a speedy white BMW, our very own white rabbit (hopefully not melamine tainted), along route 4, through Talofofo and Inarajan, to our new house in Merizo, on the southern shore. To extend the metaphor, it did feel a bit like falling down a hole: rushing past gems, fossils, artifacts embedded in the earth in the way of concrete block homes, tidepools, village post offices and erroded rock formations. I can only hope that over the next year I will be able to slowly climb back out again and document each curiosity in greater detail. (Follow our path in purple).

In the BMW was our realtor, Mat, a very earnest and honest man with a full beard and ponytail. Armed with a cell phone holstered to his belt, he showed us around the property commenting on the price points of ocean-facing windows and grey-tinted paints versus true whites. I was distracted by the walking stones in the front yard - hermit crabs - and wondered whether I would ever be able to travel with their apparent ease and economy.