Zori. That's the word used (or some derivative of it) in the Republic of Palau, Guam, the Commonwealth of the Northern Mariana Islands, Federated States of Micronesia and the Republic of the Marshall Islands for what most people from there wear on their feet. The Japanese colonized Micronesia for about 30 years, and that's where the word originally came from.
I just did a 7 month work gig back in the Marshall Islands, and one of the things I regularly did was to walk on some of the lesser visited beaches on the Eastern side of the islands. I love picking through the flotsam and jetsam that the winds and waves had washed onshore. The amount of plastic and trash that's in the ocean is sickeningly staggering, but there can sometimes be some use there. When I lived on an outer island for a year as I was figuring out how to adult, my soft, sensitive white feet had hardened a bit, but I could never get used to walking on the coral lined paths without zori. I'd sometimes wake up and find out someone had 'borrowed' my precious zori that I left outside my house. I'd sigh, get some water out of the cistern, strain the bugs and gecko shit out of it and start to boil it for coffee and then go and look on the beach for a mismatched pair that had washed up. There was always a variety on the beach right outside my house and I was on an outer island. Sometimes, I'd have to walk down a little farther than I'd have preferred to find something that would kind of fit, but what washed up is what was there. I don't care much now what people think about what I wear, and I cared much less then, if you can fathom that.
So on the most recent work gig, I did what I always did - marvel at the daily changes on the beach. The sands had shifted from the night before, new pieces of coral, broken shells, high tide, low tide...and every manner of flotsam and jetsam, every day. To include zori. There were hundreds I found and left behind because I just didn't feel a good story in them. But there were some that I brought back with me. Who is Victor? He carved his name in his zori. How did he lose that one? Awwww, those sweet Hello Kitty zori. There were two of those, but different sizes, different colors. What winds and waves washed them towards me? The Popeye zori. Looks like a fifth grader's zori. Each one of those zori could have a fantastic story behind them. How they were lost, what they did to get home with one zori. Here is a link to a great short film about zori, and how terrible it is to lose one on an outer island done by a good friend of mine.
https://www.microwavefilms.org/zori.html
I want to know everyone's story about how they lost their zori. How long it was in the ocean. What storms and currents brought it where. How it was somehow blown/washed to shore on Kwajalein in the Republic of the Marshall Islands. If anything bad even happened to you or even if you ever lost one of your zori, I hope your story had a happy ending.
I just did a 7 month work gig back in the Marshall Islands, and one of the things I regularly did was to walk on some of the lesser visited beaches on the Eastern side of the islands. I love picking through the flotsam and jetsam that the winds and waves had washed onshore. The amount of plastic and trash that's in the ocean is sickeningly staggering, but there can sometimes be some use there. When I lived on an outer island for a year as I was figuring out how to adult, my soft, sensitive white feet had hardened a bit, but I could never get used to walking on the coral lined paths without zori. I'd sometimes wake up and find out someone had 'borrowed' my precious zori that I left outside my house. I'd sigh, get some water out of the cistern, strain the bugs and gecko shit out of it and start to boil it for coffee and then go and look on the beach for a mismatched pair that had washed up. There was always a variety on the beach right outside my house and I was on an outer island. Sometimes, I'd have to walk down a little farther than I'd have preferred to find something that would kind of fit, but what washed up is what was there. I don't care much now what people think about what I wear, and I cared much less then, if you can fathom that.
So on the most recent work gig, I did what I always did - marvel at the daily changes on the beach. The sands had shifted from the night before, new pieces of coral, broken shells, high tide, low tide...and every manner of flotsam and jetsam, every day. To include zori. There were hundreds I found and left behind because I just didn't feel a good story in them. But there were some that I brought back with me. Who is Victor? He carved his name in his zori. How did he lose that one? Awwww, those sweet Hello Kitty zori. There were two of those, but different sizes, different colors. What winds and waves washed them towards me? The Popeye zori. Looks like a fifth grader's zori. Each one of those zori could have a fantastic story behind them. How they were lost, what they did to get home with one zori. Here is a link to a great short film about zori, and how terrible it is to lose one on an outer island done by a good friend of mine.
https://www.microwavefilms.org/zori.html
I want to know everyone's story about how they lost their zori. How long it was in the ocean. What storms and currents brought it where. How it was somehow blown/washed to shore on Kwajalein in the Republic of the Marshall Islands. If anything bad even happened to you or even if you ever lost one of your zori, I hope your story had a happy ending.
