I am in Saipan

And I am okay.

I am writing from Garapan, Saipan, Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands.

Over the last week, people have been reaching out with a certain amount of surprise as they have seen updates to my social media. I use those services less frequently than I used to, so big news in my life is less circulated.

Implicit in some of these questions is “Are you okay?” I understand the concern - the last update for many is that I am engaged to be married, lost my dog, and recently switched jobs. For someone who has written extensively about chronic depression, acute disillusionment in light of current events, and a broader search for purpose and principle, an unheralded move to an antipodal and unfamiliar speck in the Pacific justifiably sounds klaxons of concern.

“Call me Ishmael” is a shibboleth, but the remainder of Melville’s opening is still the best articulation of that feared mental trait:

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me.

Sure, there is some of that going on. I’ve had spiritually palate-cleansing bouts of travel before. But this is not a midlife crisis. Things are great with me. I have been appointed Special Prosecutor for the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands for a criminal case against the former governor. On a professional and personal level, the timing could not have been better.

The story of how this opportunity came about is long and full of serendipity; I will explain some of it in future posts. I won’t be writing about the specifics of my case or work while the trial is pending, but I will be sharing my experiences on island and, hopefully, spreading a bit of what I have been learning about what is easily the most interesting place I have ever been.

Here are some of the most frequent questions that I have been asked.

Where is Saipan?

The snarky answer I have been giving is “near Guam.” This response is a bit like when non-Texans ask where Corsicana is and I say ‘between Waco and Tyler.’ The Mariana Islands are in the Pacific Ocean, so a Google Maps image is primarily blue. For the geographically-inclined, draw a line from Tokyo to Sydney and another from Hawaii to the Phillipines. It is at their intersection.

Is it part of America?

Yes. It was seized from Japan in June of 1944 as part of the War of the Pacific and remains a territorial holding.

So is it like Puerto Rico?

Yes and no. As with all of the territorial acquisitions of the United States - including those that became states- the origin is unique. This has caused an idiosyncratic system of rights and benefits. I will spell out some of these in future posts because this is the exact type of thing that I find interesting.

Is it pretty?

Absolutely.

How big is it?

About 50,000 residents over three inhabited islands - Saipan, Tinian, and Rota. About 45,000 live on Saipan. In comparison, the US Virgin Islands have about 100,000 spread out over three islands. The county I grew up in - Navarro - has roughly 50,000 people, with about half living in Corsicana.

How do you get there?

United flies there from Guam and from Tokyo, so you can either go through Honolulu or, like I did, take a 13 hour flight from Houston to Narita airport outside of Tokyo.

What is the time difference?

It is across the international dateline and 15 hours ahead. 5 pm Wednesday in Austin is 8 am Thursday in Saipan.

Is it safe?

Yes, or at least certainly safer feeling for me than the mainland feels now. As for my position, the last time an anti-corruption effort resulted in a violent attack was an unsuccessful drive-by shooting of a legislator in the 1990s. (Depends on how you define unsuccessful, I guess. They dropped the inquiry after the attack but he was not shot.) I am mostly worried about my proximity to the Mariana Trench and the attendant risk of kaiju.

How is it going?

This is the view from the nearby coffee shop; it is going quite well.

I will write more tomorrow; please email or comment with questions or topics for me to explore.