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.  ;-)