After today, I will have interviewed eight people of different ages, backgrounds and races about Marshallese Identity and climate change.  I am interested mainly in documenting the vibrancy and strength of the people and the culture while at the same time documenting and any plans, fears or expectations regarding the sea level rise predictions for the RMI.  As all of the atolls are expected to be under at least a foot of water in the next 50-100 years.  I’ve talked with people in the government who work on climate change issues, I’ve talked with people in the municipality who are trying to urge their fellow citizens to think ahead.  I’ve talked with young people who are concerned but minimally informed.  I am working on talking with elders and craftsmen and women. 

Some people are staunchly against migration as an option; firmly believing that we will find a way to save this sacred land that has been bequeathed from generation to generation for thousands of years.  As a native person myself, I can’t imagine leaving the land my ancestors bled on, cried on, gave birth on and died on and are now in.  As nearly everyone has said, land is intimately tied to having a Marshallese Identity.  Every person owns a tract of Marshallese land somewhere in the country.  Most of the people in Marjuro do not live on the land they own as most people are from the outer islands and have moved into Majuro for work or to “upgrade” their quality of life. 

Other people are trying earnestly for people to start planning for migration, worrying that without proper planning, the 60,000 people of the Marshall Islands will be trapped in a drowning paradise while they watch their houses and hospitals sink below ocean waves.  The U.S. is an option - there are large Marshallese populations in Hawaii, Oregon, Arkansas (weird, right?) and part of Texas.  Tuvalu has arranged an agreement for land with New Zealand.  The Marhsallese could talk with New Zealand or another surrounding country.  As an indigenous person who can’t imagine being separated from her land forever, I also can’t imagine not planning for fatal “what if” situations of the future.  Evacuating 60,000 from an island nation which only has a few flights out a day sounds like a death sentence for thousands.  But here, it seems like by planning for migration you transposing “what if” into “what will be,” which politically is like giving up on your people and culture. 

I ask people what do they think will happen to Marshallese Identity if the Marshallese were forced to migrate due to rising sea levels.  Many point to what has already happened to the thousands of people who have already migrated to the states and say assimilation would be just around the corner.  Not that the people in the states don’t consider themselves Marshallese, but they don’t speak the language, follow the strict customs related to clothing and covering of the shoulders and thighs and engage more in American activities rather than Marshallese.  I am not passing judgment on when and how assimilation happens but the people who I am interviewing definitely see a marked difference in the “kind” of Marshallese who exist in the states and those that exist on the islands. 

There is so much of America here on the islands already that the idea of holding back even more American influence if the Marshallese had to move to the states or to another more industrialized country can be likened to holding back the rising sea waves that are expected to topple the country in the coming century.  How to fight for identity and against climate change and assimilation is what is on the table.  Let’s hope and work for the waves of American assimilation and the waves of climate change to be well abated before they reach the shores of Majuro.

In case you want to drop a line, send some chocolate or photos or whatever else pops into your mind, here is my address! I’d love to send you some things as well!

Also, its serviced by USPS so the shipping costs shouldn’t be too much. Sweet! :)

Susan Aaluk Edwardson

DVTP Program

P.O. Box 673

Marjuro, Marshall Islands, 96960

I’ll be here until March 15th!

Every run I go on, I am always astounded by the abundance of  young smiling faces.  Not pleasantly smiling or politely smiling either, but heart-felt, happy-to-be-alive smiling children.  Children who make eye contact and laugh sheepishly with beaming eyes - not out of anything but pure joy. 

And kids are everywhere.  And I mean everywhere.  The whole city is a playground with no ground untouched by the pitter patter of little feet.  They are climbing and running and swinging and jumping everywhere.  All together in transient bands with a few always joining one group and a few always leaving.  The sun shines perpetually and with such clarity that everything shines- even the garbage (which, also, like the smiles, is in abundance).

I can see why the kids are smiling.  They have no limits.  No boundaries.  No apparent rules.  Kids are up and out and about at dawn, noon, dusk and through out the night.  They are playing all day and night long - weekend or week day.  They have stray cats and dogs to play with and pester to their hearts content and even a few piglets and hens cocking about.  Toys are made out of anything and everything - big, small, sharp, dull, shiny, soft - as long as it pounds, drags, swings, clangs or clamors it works. \

I only ever see the kids eating ice pops, ice cream or some kind of koolaid powder.  Sugar for fast energy to keep them going like little energy bunnies beating their little play drums. 

For a kid, having a limitless playground with around-the-clock playtime hours and a perpetual supply of sugar might just be paradise. 

Woo hoo!  I have been waiting for access to Tumblr at the high school and now I have it! 
Sorry for the delay in updates everyone - my computer also broke down and I am waiting to have it fixed.  But!  I should be able to update you more often now that I have access to Tumblr here at the school.

I have so much to say since my last post but am off to teach!  I will write more tonight and send out my address as well for any of you wishing to send and receive postcards or what not from Majuro.  :) 

Talk soon!

Are wonderful!  They are so responsive, have great senses of humor and are full of life!  I have been very, very lucky.  Other volunteer teachers have classes that stare at them with blank faces for fifty minutes.  Or don’t stop talking.  Or don’t understand a word the teacher is saying.  Or don’t care.  I have kids that do care and that are forgiving of my shortcomings as a teacher. 

I am working on a Culture/Identity Unit.  I am trying to get the kids to understand that they have a very unique identity as Marshallese boys and girls.  After I get them to that point, I want to show them through scientific data, what might happen to their islands; that they might be underwater.  I hope then to have them interview their parents and grandparents about Marshallese identity and turn their findings into an essay or a poem or a short story or a play!  To help preserve what it means to be Marshallese.  It’s an ambitious project for the Marshall Islands School System, but I am trying anyway!  I think these kids can do it!

They call me Ms. Aaluk.  I love it.  I want everyone to call me Ms. Aaluk!  Well, maybe not Ms., but more people to call me Aaluk.  They all have very different names.  Everything from Tarwoj to Kennedy.  The majority of their names are a compliation of family names.  Take Kennedy for instance; Kennedy is taken from two grandfather’s names.  Kenitol and Nedytol.  Or Marylynn: from her mother Mary and her mother’s best friend Lynn.  There is also Tebrina and Kaliana.  Angerina and  Bolear.  Name giving here is similar to how it is at home in the sense that you name children after other people but instead of having someone named Tonya Sebrina the names are combined to become Tebrina.  I am furiously trying to commit the names to memory so as to honor my students and so I don’t have to say, “Hey you back there – quiet down!” J

The play has started off with a bang.  I am thoroughly impressed by the talent and fearlessness so far displayed.  These kids know English as a second language, yet are still willing to let it all out on the stage.  They speak with fractured eloquence but are not deterred.  When they decide they are ready to tackle the material, they jump in head on uninhibited by fear or embarrassment.  Laughter and whole-body happiness results creating an environment of acceptance and encouragement.  These kids know each other well and are willing to show sides of themselves that are often unexpressed at home or in school on stage.  That is therapy; that is progress towards peace. 

Callbacks are in thirty minutes and I can’t wait to get the ball rolling on the text itself.  I also have my first interviews tomorrow and will update soon!

(Written January 11th)

I taught my first class yesterday! 

It was a social studies unit on where I came from.  It was a seventh grade class and they had been using venn diagrams so I decided to compare and contrast the Marshallese culture with the Inupiaq culture.  It went over exceedingly well!  They enjoyed hearing about whales and snow and learning Inupiaq words.  I thoroughly enjoyed questioning them about mythologies, what they hunted and hearing the bursts of laughter when I tried to spell or say their words. The kids were surprisingly responsive.  We were told coming in that class participation would be hard to attain as the culture here doesn’t encourage kids to speak up in class (another similarity between here and Barrow - there are so many that I think I could write a book!).  At one point I had to put my hands over my ears and say, “I can’t hear you if you aren’t raising your hands” to get them to speak in turn.  It worked somewhat. 

I really love the kids.  While running outside, we often have kids run along side us - laughing because they think running for fun is just so silly.  (Exercise isn’t a widely understood activity here - people don’t understand why you would just run to run.)  One time, a girl of about four years old ran right up to me and put out her hand and told me her name.  Other times kids often have us high five them as we run by.  With the sun shining and the wind gently blowing - the kids smiles top off my day.  I miss my own son so very much and know he would love playing with these kids.

I skyped with Una the other day and a bunch of young, elementary-aged boys crowded around me (as I was outside).  They talked with my son and were dumbfounded when Una gave them a tour of his new apartment.  Most of the kids here live in shacks with dirt floors or if they have floors and windows they are rusted and broken.  When Una started showing off his toys the kids called him a billionaire and were amazed at the plethora of playthings they saw on the screen.  I was pretty embarrassed and didn’t know what to do but kept saying, “Yes, he is a very fortunate boy.”  I want my son to come here and see what these kids play with; deflated school basketballs, old soda cans and metal pipes, defunct lawn mowers or broken baby carriages.  They don’t have toys or couches like what they saw on Skype in Una’s house. Of course, my little almost 6 year old didn’t understand what he was doing by showing off his toys - that’s what you do in American when you are a kid.  You show off your coolest toys and wait for the other kids to do the same.  We learn at a very young age how to play the social game “Keeping up with the Jones,’” while kids here are learning how to survive for hours alone or hours and hours on the streets.

Kids are out all hours of the day here.  It is always warm outside and you can always find tons of kids outside.  There is no bedtime here.  Babies don’t have routine schedules - they have their mom’s schedules and they sleep while in grocery stores or cabs or wherever they happen to be when they are tired.  Kids make every area their play areas.  The insides of broken cars, the gutters in the streets, outside laundromats.  They hop fences and squeeze through gates to play wherever they can with whatever they can find.  And they aren’t scared at all. They are fearless and friendly.  Full and fun-loving. 

But then you see what the kids turn into.  You see a plethora of old drunken men roaming the streets or young men and women walking with something beyond the fear of death in their eyes and emotion carved out of their cheeks not looking straight or back but just forward.  I’ve seen this look before and these old men and young old-looking people.  But they are covered in Parkas or old beaten down wind jackets and the weather is bitter, biting at your face and ears.  I’ve seen these people before in Barrow, on reservations in cities.  The forgotten people that roam looking for purpose only to find emptiness, abuse and pain.  I look to the kids and tell them to hold on, to keep light because when they are big and grown much of it will be sucked out of them.  

That’s a horrible way to end a post but know that with much sadness and much pain there exists much joy and happiness.  I know that sometimes in these homes there is a warmth that glows and grows in the hearts of the people here.  I know that sometimes the food that nourishes their hungry bellies also nourishes their souls and sustains hope.  I know that sometimes these kids grow up and they are just as fearless and friendly at 30 as they were at 3.  I know because as many faces lost as I have seen here and at home, I have seen people succeed in finding light and grace.  I just hope my time here helps in some way to sustain such hope and promise in these kids. 

Starting interviews soon!  More to come! :)

I am definitely on the other side of the world!  We fly in the airport is outside.  It’s very similar to the airport at home -  small, bag drop baggage claim and minimal flights per day – but its outside!  Everything here is outside and also rusted and worn down.  It gives the island a rustic, forgotten feel.  Neglected feel.  But only materialistically neglected; the people are vibrant and full.  Very musical and curious.  They say yakwe (hello), or Happy New Year almost every time you see them.  Reminds me of home – people are always saying hello. 

            There are traces of America everywhere.  Actually, not traces, there is America everywhere.  Coke Cola, chevy cars and cheeseburgers.  But it’s not trying to be America.  Had an interesting conversation last night with some of the other Dartmouth kids about how culture is not definable but exists as it is.  It cannot be stated as “it is this” as culture is not stagnant.  The Marshallese wear jeans and buy convenience store dinners but they are not American.  They are contemporary Marshallese.  I can see many parallels between this group of indigenous peoples and my own indigenous peoples.  One of the other students on the trip said that he was embarrassed because he expected to find a less Americanized Marshallese village.  Embarrassed because he was slightly disappointed when he recognized some of the same conveniences from home in America.  Luckily, he checked himself and widened his perspective of what it meant to be “Native” in the Marshall Islands.

            The biggest party of the year is on New Years Eve.  It is a huge block party held in the center of the city.  And by center of the city I mean the middle of the one road that constructs Majuro.  Literally Majuro has one long road and everything is built around it.  It has to be that way.  The island is one long strip!  It makes getting around really easy.  And I thought Barrow had few roads. 

            Funny fact about the stores in the Marshall Islands.  They are entirely random meaning you have no idea what will be inside any given store (regardless of whether or not it says grocery or hardware or what not – similar to Barrow in that respect) but!  Also, there is not understood price range for anything.  A bottle of pantene shampoo can be $4 at one store and $8 right next door.  It’s kind of a gamble trying to shop cheap. 

More to come!  Teaching soon and excited to report back on what the classrooms are like!  :-)

Welcome to my Blog - Informed Theater.  Or, Beyond Entertainment: Informed Theater!

Here I hope to document, in what I hope to be an entertaining and informative manner, my progress in turning the world’s issues into understandable, accessible, compelling and quite entertaining theater.  

So much of what we read in the news or hear on the radio is informative but doesn’t necessarily compel a concerned citizen to action.  Why?  My theory is that it isn’t emotion based.  Some might argue that bringing emotion and the news together can be a recipe for disaster and take away from the information brought to the table.  I argue that without emotional motivation, much of the world’s actions are baseless.  Why do we do what we do on a personal, societal and even global level?  Are our actions to ourselves and one another done out of love, anger, loss or fear?  

I want to look at the world’s issues from an academic perspective but transform the information I gather into dramatic narrative that is emotion-based.  I want to be able to inspire action with the mind and the heart using the medium of theater; as theater can do just that.  Informed theater can do, just that.  

Follow me, teach me and show me how to create a world of understanding, acceptance and hopefully love, through the use of Informed theater.