The Majuro Diet

The Majuro Diet

When I came home last summer, one of the first comments I got from friends and family was, "wow, you lost a lot of weight!" I lost almost 20 pounds in about 5 months here in the Marshall Islands. I call it the Majuro Diet, and my brother said I should write a book about it. I'm sure it'd sell a million copies but it's pretty specific to here. In fact, you'd probably have to move out here to follow it so you'd really restrict the number of followers. Let me tell you how it goes.

1.    No fast food. There is no such thing as fast food here. First step is to remove yourself completely from McDonalds, Burger King, Taco Bell, White Castle, Dairy Queen, Starbucks etc. Preferably over 1,000 miles away so as to completely remove temptation. Mmmmm Taco Bell.

2.    Drink water. I'd say I drink water here 99% of the time. When I'm not drinking water, I have iced tea, coconut water, and occasionally a beer ($3.50/ea at the grocery store) or diet coke ($1/ea at the grocery store) thrown in there when I'm feeling rich. I get no extra calories from imbibing on this island. In Majuro it's hard to get any fancy (and calorie crazy) cocktails or those 500 calorie lattes. The locals drink a lot of sugar laden soda but I've been opting out.

3.    Live in unbearable heat. You know on a really hot summer day when it's like 2pm and you think "boy I haven't eaten lunch yet!" because your appetite is so shrunk from the heat? Well here, that's everyday. Also, any exercise I do here is "hot." There's hot yoga, hot running, hot weight lifting, hot pushups, hot walking to the grocery store, hot typing, etc.

4.    Eat local (eat fish). The local food here is really healthy when prepared right. Coconut meat is high in fiber as is breadfruit and taro. Pandanus are like a really grainy and stringy squash but sadly aren't my favorite. Ney and I eat bananas like they are going out of style. I don't cook much but I'm trying to really hone my smoothie skills. I just made an orange/pear/banana one and up next is coconut/strawberry/banana. Fish are everywhere. You can even buy fish at the gas station. Our neighbors are always catching them and sharing it with us. I try to order it when we go to a restaurant - especially sashimi. Fresh caught tuna is unreal good! And of course fish is extremely healthy with a side of brown rice. In addition to being healthy, local food is also way cheaper than anything imported.

5.    Don't overeat. Don't get me wrong, food here can be really good, but the restaurants are seriously lacking. When food is a lot of times just OK, you don't end up stuffing your face like I do when I'm in the States (sidenote: I gained 7 pounds in 2 months while back in the States this summer! I have no self control!). Have you ever tried to stuff your face with sushi or sashimi? It just doesn't work the same as it does with a burger and fries. Mmmmm burger and fries.

That's the funny part about here. I'm not trying to lose weight. It's just the lifestyle. So if you're ready for some isolation and island weather, you too can follow the Majuro diet.

Still trying to figure out Majuro, but I love it...

            Majuro is a place unlike I have ever been.  It’s hard to make heads or tails of it.  When I first got the job here at Majuro Cooperative School I had never heard of Majuro.  I had heard of the Marshall Islands only in the context of WW2 and Nuclear Weapon testing, but I knew nothing of the culture, people or history.  That was certainly part of the draw for us, to go to a place that we knew little about and that we probably would never visit if we don’t take advantage of the opportunity to live there.  It is amazing to me that there is this entire nation of people in the middle of the Pacific inhabiting 24 tiny atolls with a total population of less than Wheaton, IL, the town I grew up in.  Despite this, I have found that living in Majuro confronts one with an amazing juxtaposition of amazing beauty and relentless sadness.  Whether it is the people, the nature or the culture it is hard as an American not to be simultaneously amazed and horrified by all three. 

            The people of the Marshall Islands are difficult to describe.  Even though it is such a small community there is a large chasm in the society, an amazing division between the haves and the have-nots.  There are those on island who have much wealth and then there is the massive amount of poverty.  The unemployment rate here is over 50% and those who are employed make a futile few dollars an hour, while prices for everyday goods and food are almost double what they are in America.  There are so many children around in Majuro.  Almost 60% of the population is under 18 years of age and the Marshalls has one of the highest birth rates in the world that is just over 7 children per woman.  Everywhere you look there are children playing, running and enjoying life, but rarely do you ever see an adult with them or monitoring them.  It is not unusual to see children as soon as they can walk spending most of the day away from their parents with a sister or brother out about town.  Many of them are lucky to get one meal per day and although they are required to go to school, few of them actually do.  When discussing the people of Majuro, the majority are these seemingly parent-less and education-less children.  Many of them are very kind and clearly not in great health, but one has to wonder about what this majority will mean to a country that according to one educated reform minded Marshallese man, “…is going through a time of soul-searching.”  The beauty of the Marshallese people is the joy that you see in the children playing and the embracing of the natural surroundings, but the horror comes in seeing just how high the poverty rate is and how many children go without and the tragic reality that those who can change this do not seem to have any solutions to alleviate this.  I have repeatedly asked what charities are available here for those children and always get blank stares. 

            On our flight into Majuro back in December of 2012 as we were landing I was in awe of this tiny coral atolls with the water in all the breath-taking hues of green, blue and purple.  The flight attendant leaned over us and said, “This view never gets old.”  She had been serving this flight for 15 years and said there is nothing as beautiful as landing over Majuro, and she’s right.  Its natural beauty is unsurpassed.  When you see the sun rising over the ocean or setting over the lagoon or a low full moon illuminating the ocean waves you can’t help but wonder how more people don’t come to see this hidden treasure of beauty. 

            A few days after we arrived in Majuro, we had the pleasure of going to one of the small islands on the north end of the atoll to relax on the natural beach for the day.  Up to this point, I had never snorkeled in my life, but when I did I was like a child on Christmas morning.  I simply couldn’t believe the fish that were every color of the rainbow swimming amongst the corals and how I could swim right into a school of thousands of fish and they would move right out of the way for me as if they were escorting me to the next area of ocean to discover.  The combination of warm sun, temperate ocean and unrelenting underwater beauty made me realize that there was an entire world that I had been missing in my first 32 years of life that I desperately wanted to explore more. 

            Despite this amazing beauty from the air and under the water the simple fact is that there is no place you can go in Majuro without being surrounded by garbage.  It’s everywhere.  Floating in the ocean, on the beach, in the road, on school campus and even at the bottom of the ocean.  This tiny atoll was not made to house all of the trash and waste that a modern economy generates.  With the combination of the problem of over-crowding and trying to put a population of roughly 20,000 on an atoll with less that 15 square miles of land, there simply is no room for an adequate dump.  I really can’t imagine a solution to this since the island’s antiquated system of trash collection rarely allows for any recycling and most trash is disposed by littering.  It is a tragedy that this beautiful atoll cannot remain as pristine as it should. 

            As an American coming to Majuro you have three choices when adjusting to the culture either: find an amazing amount of patience, live in total and complete frustration or you can leave.  We have chosen the road of patience and this has both made us better people and has helped us find a love for Majuro and the Marshallese people.  By enlarge the Marshallese culture has a very casual relationship with time.  It is a cultural expectation that everyone will be late, so you might as well show up late too.  This can make it difficult running and teaching at a school that is supposed to be based on a western model and curriculum, but we make it work.  The culture is also very hierarchical and similar to a caste society.  It is rare to find people from the “upper castes” befriend and socialize with those who are merely “commoners.”  This is a new phenomenon in Marshallese society as this sort of system was founded in a pre-modern hunter and gatherer society where everyone was valued and needed.  Now that a cash economy has replaced the traditional society there is a reluctance to replace the old societal norms with more modern ones as those at the top now have way too much to lose (money that is).  It has very quickly become an oligarchic society where the few rich and powerful make decisions for the entire country.  While the Marshallese may live in the moment better than any people I’ve ever witnessed, this has bred a sort of fatalism in the future of the country.  Too many people think that there is nothing they can do about many of the problems that everyone sees; so many choose to do nothing.  Too many people think that global warming will destroy their country in their life times, so what does it matter if I litter or pollute.  The sort of “live in the moment” attitude that is laudable in Marshallese society has combined, strangely, with a sort of fatalism or ignorance, I’m not sure which one, for the future of the Marshall Islands.  I have come across only a rare few that really work toward and hope for a truly better future for ALL Marshallese. 

            All of this being said, I love our life here Majuro.  I love my students and I love the school at which I teach.  We have made friendships that will last a lifetime and whenever we do leave it will be with heavy hearts that we depart this tiny atoll.  Beyond anything I hope that my analysis of life in Majuro doesn’t offend anyone and that if it does you can blame it simply on the tiny 8-month experience of an ignorant ri-belle.  ;-) 

I've got bugs in my head...

This morning we awoke to a beautiful sunrise and majestic waves crashing right behind our back window.  Then Janae turned to me and said, "Last night was the worst night of my life."  Now there's no question that she was using major hyperbole here, or at least I hope so, but I'm sure you're now wondering, "Oh boy, what happened?"  Well it was termites.  Janae is no fan of bugs, but especially not of the invasion of the size that we had last night. 

            I came in from a beautiful evening of sunset basketball and as I was getting ready to shower I noticed a few moth-like bugs flying around the lights and noticed that they were all over the outside of our screens.  When I say "all over," I mean that you could barely see out the screen because they were covering it so densely.  As I took a shower I noticed that many were getting in somehow through the screen and by the time I was done showering there were no less than 100 termites in the bathroom and shower.  As I went out to the bedroom and kitchen I realized that in that 10 minutes that I was in the bathroom our apartment had been invested with the tiny creatures.  Janae was not happy to say the least.

            They were in our bed, in Neyla's bed, on the floor, on the counters... they were pretty much everywhere.  Janae immediately got into Navy Seal mode and started fly swatting the s#%t out of every termite she could.  The gritty angry look on her face was one I had not seen since the last time she tried to beat me in a 1 on 1 game of basketball.  She was not happy.  She started spouting all sorts of non-sense that I found mildly humorous, but I thought best not to laugh at the time.  I thought that someday she'd laugh about this, or I at least hoped she would.  She was yelling, "I can't live like this...  Get out of my house...  Die! Die! Die!..  I will not allow my baby to sleep in this..."  If you know Janae well maybe you can imagine this. 

            I put my sandals on and started stomping the life out of the poor buggers and then swept them up poured them outside into a large pile of dead termite carcuses.  Janae kept fly swatting, Neyla kept crying and our neighbor Rachelle was wondering where these bugs came from and if Janae was possessed.  I then went into the bathroom and Windexed the life out of the ones in the bathroom and it actually worked.  Very soon they all reached the end of their lives and I scooped them up to meet their friends in the newly minted termite cemetery we had created outside.  We were convinced (actually just Janae) that our apartment would be permanently invested by these silly creatures, but to our amazement our stomp, swat and windex plan was working quite affectively.  Slowly, too slowly for Janae, their numbers were dwindling and our termite genocide was showing some success. 

            An hour later our apartment was mostly clear of the termite invasion, with a few stragglers being eliminated throughout the remainder of the night.  As Neyla went to bed I vacated the premises to have a glass (or 3) of whiskey with my great friends Dan and Rachelle and our new fantastic colleague Karina and Janae stayed up until almost midnight frantically cleaning and recleaning the entire apartment.  I came home about 1 am and Janae and Neyla were both sound asleep in a surprisingly clean and bug-free environment.  Janae is actually still cleaning as I write this, but she is slowly getting to point of being able to laugh about last night, but still thinks that I did not take the infestation of the evil ones seriously enough.  I was going to have Janae write this blog, but she is still way too emotional about last night and it would've been way too anti-bug and we are an equal bug opportunity blog.  Maybe in a few years when she has settled down a bit I'll have her write about her thoughts on last night.  

I'm going to borrow your stuff...

I'm going to borrow your stuff indefinitely

... and other concerns

I woke up this morning in a great mood. The night before we had a staff potluck with dancing, guitar playing, singing and a generally nice kum-by-ya evening. Even though I'm not officially staff this year, they let me and Neyla come along for the ride for the social gatherings. Potlucks are my favorite because someone often makes these delicious coconut sticky white rice balls that are amazing and I eat as dessert. I try to limit myself to one.

The next morning, I wander out the door, probably to look at the ocean or something, and I notice Neyla's shoes are missing. I had left her new swim shoes outside to dry and I forgot to take them in overnight. I cursed at myself for leaving them out and then proceeded to tell Bryan how angry I was someone took her shoes.

In Marshallese culture there is a very "what's mine is yours mentality," I guess it's from living on such a small island trying to survive for so many years. If I catch fish, I give you fish and if I collect coconuts, I give you coconuts. Mind you, that was many, many years ago. In today's Majuro, you go to a store to buy food like most of the rest of the world, but sharing is still expected.

I kept thinking, those darn kids took her shoes! They've taken her soccer ball a couple times before when I've left it outside. I found kids playing with it later and got it back. One time, I heard kids by my front window trying to be sneaky and giggling. I had old cardboard boxes by my front window and they took them, clearly thinking that I still wanted them but instead they just took out my trash for me.

Bryan, good ole Bryan, set me straight and said these kids have nothing, literally nothing, often no toys, no shoes, no clean clothes, and are constantly knocking on our door looking for food. If they took Neyla's shoes maybe they are better off with them. That is good reasoning but it still didn't make me less mad it just made me guilty and mad.

Bryan's coworker at Coop used to live on an outer island and he said they his host family would constantly take his stuff, like his iPod, but never return it. They would also "borrow" his light bulb for the main house. He said he ended up buying like 3 lightbulbs because anytime the main house's went out, they'd knock on his door to have his. The kids here in Majuro embrace this idea and will play with any and all toys left outside. Sometimes they are permanently borrowed. I don't mind so much with the toys, but the shoes are a different story. They wereher reef shoes and they fit her exactly.

Well back to this morning, I was sulkily taking the trash out and lo and behold I see Neyla's shoes. The stray dogs had taken them and chewed them up. 

Cockroaches, Ants (marching) and Crabs

Cockroaches, Ants (marching), and Crabs

Who needs pets when you have these friends?

When I would convince Bryan to have lunch with me in the Loop, back when we were in Chicago, he said it gave him the creeps. The thought of "ants marching" came to mind often for him. Though I agree with him to extent - there was a palatable air of misery on the El on a Monday morning - I am now dealing with my own version of ants marching in my new occupation, housewife. This time it's in the literal sense.

We live in a 500 square foot apartment with a lot of critters. In fact, I just caught a crab that wandered in through our front door. (Sidenote: after some trial and error I figured out the best way to catch a crab is with tupperware. The lid makes a nice scoop to help the crab in the main tub. Then you also have the top to keep him in.) Or sometimes I just let the crabs wander. I was bathing Neyla last night and gave her a toy crab to play with, meanwhile a (real live) crab had crawled up the drain and was sitting right next to us. I thought about throwing him in the tub but decided against it. That's the thing about Majuro, Neyla gets to do things that most kids have to imagine or simulate with toys, for better or worse.

This morning Neyla decided to pet a gecko at the base of our bed, not knowing that it was a living, breathing and, most importantly, moving animal. When she reached for it, it didn't move, but once she touched it it started wiggling away. Neyla is still learning how to pat gently so she poked the poor guy. As soon as it started moving, she looked at me and began to wail. I picked her up and explained to her what it was. I'm not sure if she understood, but she's getting better about words. She can now say "shoes" and "outside" really well. Both of those words, of course, get her closer to her one year old self's goal of playing outside at every possible moment. I'm anxiously waiting for her to want to pet a hermit crab which won't end as nicely as the gecko, I suspect. You can find those in droves just outside our apartment.

If you stare at one spot in our apartment long enough, you'll find an ant. They're everywhere. They're annoying to me, but most people here don't mind them. The most optimistic opinion I've heard about the ants here is that "At least you know where you haven't cleaned." Bryan looks at me like I'm crazy when I say, "Die ants!" then proceed to smack them with my flip flop. If reincarnation and karma exist, I'm most definitely coming back as an ant. 

My craziest critter story is actually Bryan's most heroic moment. I was lazily snuggling with Neyla at night on our bed, chatting with Bryan. I'm not sure what we were chatting about but it went down something like this:

Me: "... and then Neyla walked not once but twice today! Ten steps total, I bet."

Bryan: "uh, huh."

Me: "I'm pretty sure she said mama today, or maybe was just humming..."

SMACK!

While mid-conversation, Bryan got up from the bed, grabbed his flip flop (best bug killer tool ever) and killed a cockroach right above my head. I jumped a mile high, Neyla started bawling and I asked him what the heck was he doing! You don't want to know, was his reply. I knew right then it was a cockroach, my biggest critter foe. Bryan had killed him right by my head on the wall above our bed. I don't think I've ever loved Bryan more.

Cockroaches are the grossest creature on the planet. Here is why. I almost always see them out at night in the dark, which makes them the most vampire-like of all insects. Their antenna would be comically long for their body if it wasn't so creepy long. They move at the speed of light or maybe just sound I'm not sure but either way it's impossibly fast. The Orchan commercials with the cockroach close up has not helped the cockroach PR. It's a disease bag. Before they die, they lie face up as a final F you so you have to stare at their beyond disgusting underside. Pretty sure they have 65 legs. I have to smack them with my flip flop (turned weapon) at least 3 times before they die.

So to sum up:

Gecko (so adorable! and they eat ants)

Crabs (interesting and cute if small)

Ants (annoying)

Cockroaches (the worst)

And those are just a few of the critters in our apartment. Tune in for more critter info and Neyla info on "Life in the Marshall Islands" with Janae Rusin. I've got a lot of time now that I'm not teaching Algebra anymore.