Ali's blog address:
http://alisonlemoine.wordpress.com
Tuesday, September 25, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
Ali's here!
Not quite a week in the RMI & the lovely Ali is perusing a magazine on the island of Enecko. Ali arrived and is adapting to life. We took a couple of days this weekend to enjoy the fruits of her first week here by boating over to a nearly uninhabited island for some relaxation. Ali actually quickly got to work with the Marshall Islands Council of NGOs (MICNGOs) - an umbrella organization for the various NGOs here. Ali is the 1st paid Director of the organization, so there's a lot of organizing for her to do, in addition to setting the direction that MICNGOs will take over the next year. But first she has to learn how to understand the European Union grant that made her position possible - so she can get paid!
It's interesting that I'm the one that's always wanted to manage a not-for-profit organization and Ali's always been interested in education. Our roles have reversed! Or maybe we've come closer together and can take on jobs inter-changeably. You can be sure that we'll be enthousiastically giving each other advice and support.
In the next day I'll add a link to her blog - which promises to be amazing. Not only are her photographic abilities really impressive, but she's also a witty writer.
Lest ye be judged
An alarming conversation was held by the Nitijela in the week before last. The Nitijela is the Marshallese legislative body, like a parliament or senate. Elected senators make the laws. But they decided to have a conversation about religion.
Trying to define what religion is can be really tricky. There are so many different views on spirituality. If we try to capture “religion” in a few sentences, something is bound to get left out. Therefore, defining religion is arguably a slippery slope that can lead to the erosion of liberty. We certainly need rules in society, but the name by which we call our deity seems to be subjective to me.
The conversation in the Nitijela about religion was especially alarming because of its tone. Religious leaders from the almost universally Christian nation were invited to speak to the Nitijela. Comments quoted in the Marshall Islands Journal accused Islam in particular of being a dangerous religion that should be banned from the country. Senators actually in some cases agreed, such that the session was about bashing Islam rather than defining religion.
I wrote the following letter to the editor, which was published in the September 20th edition. My tone is more measured in the letter because I’m still figuring out how wise it is to criticize my elders. In Canada, the Prime Minister can be pied in the face and we mostly have a good laugh because he deserved it (true story). But not every country is like that.
Letter to the Editor of the Marshall Islands Journal
I am writing in response to the articles I read in the September 14th issue of the Journal. When I initially learned that the Nitijela was going to discuss the question, “What is religion?” I admired our leaders’ foresight, because I thought they were trying to anticipate possible problems with terrorists in the future. Every country in the world has had to cope with feelings of insecurity since September the 11th, 2001. If there are more people of a different faith entering your region, it is important to be aware of the implications to your society. But hearing our elders generalize about a “specific religion” (see Nitijela attacks Islam) that is a “threat to the Marshall Islands” (see Religious leaders debate hot topic), I was greatly disturbed. There are 1.2 billion Muslims in the world. Like most Christians, they are peaceful and educated people. We must not allow ourselves to generalize an entire civilization based on the actions of the violent ones, just as we shouldn’t judge one person by another.
September 16, 2007
Steven Courchesne
Trying to define what religion is can be really tricky. There are so many different views on spirituality. If we try to capture “religion” in a few sentences, something is bound to get left out. Therefore, defining religion is arguably a slippery slope that can lead to the erosion of liberty. We certainly need rules in society, but the name by which we call our deity seems to be subjective to me.
The conversation in the Nitijela about religion was especially alarming because of its tone. Religious leaders from the almost universally Christian nation were invited to speak to the Nitijela. Comments quoted in the Marshall Islands Journal accused Islam in particular of being a dangerous religion that should be banned from the country. Senators actually in some cases agreed, such that the session was about bashing Islam rather than defining religion.
I wrote the following letter to the editor, which was published in the September 20th edition. My tone is more measured in the letter because I’m still figuring out how wise it is to criticize my elders. In Canada, the Prime Minister can be pied in the face and we mostly have a good laugh because he deserved it (true story). But not every country is like that.
Letter to the Editor of the Marshall Islands Journal
I am writing in response to the articles I read in the September 14th issue of the Journal. When I initially learned that the Nitijela was going to discuss the question, “What is religion?” I admired our leaders’ foresight, because I thought they were trying to anticipate possible problems with terrorists in the future. Every country in the world has had to cope with feelings of insecurity since September the 11th, 2001. If there are more people of a different faith entering your region, it is important to be aware of the implications to your society. But hearing our elders generalize about a “specific religion” (see Nitijela attacks Islam) that is a “threat to the Marshall Islands” (see Religious leaders debate hot topic), I was greatly disturbed. There are 1.2 billion Muslims in the world. Like most Christians, they are peaceful and educated people. We must not allow ourselves to generalize an entire civilization based on the actions of the violent ones, just as we shouldn’t judge one person by another.
September 16, 2007
Steven Courchesne
Friday, September 14, 2007
Under the sea
Let's play a game.
Where's fishdo?
I don't yet know what these two species are, but the two on the bottom I find particularly beautiful. There's several species of yellow and black fish (including the moorish idol I posted earlier) that I love to watch.
The following is not computer animated. This is live coral. Talk about vibrant!
Where's fishdo?
I don't yet know what these two species are, but the two on the bottom I find particularly beautiful. There's several species of yellow and black fish (including the moorish idol I posted earlier) that I love to watch.
The following is not computer animated. This is live coral. Talk about vibrant!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
My funny cab ride story
Getting around Majuro means taking shared taxis. This is a foreign concept in North America because the destinations of any two people might be a dozen kilometres in opposite directions. But Majuro basically has 1 road with a few that briefly branch off. The difference between passengers has to do with how far each needs to go in a particular direction.
On my way into town I stuck my finger out to signal the next cab that I needed a ride. He pulled over and let me in. There were already 3 people riding this one, so the 2 in the back seat had to scrunch to the left to let me in. An exchange of greetings followed and we were on our way.
A few minutes later I felt a nudge against my back, like something had just pushed against the back seat. My first thought was, “Strange.” And then it happened again. My next thought was, “Something alive is riding in the trunk.” I glanced to my left to see if anyone else had noticed. Nope, or like me, they were playing dumb.
It didn’t take more than another minute to hear a low-squeal, almost a grunt, but definitely a squeal. I then remembered that this taxi had probably started at the end of the island (I live pretty close to one end) where there’s a pig farm.
But I was afraid to strike up a conversation about it, just in case it was actually somebody’s grandfather. “So,” I’d casually start, “Who’s having a feast tonight?” Abashed, the girl next to me might reply, “Jab jab. Grandfather and I only had the fare for one person.” I pictured one of my grandfathers in the darkness of the trunk; a darkly comical thought.
Then I imagined that I had uncovered an operation by the Majuro Mafia. Unlike the Italian mafia, their business is smuggling fish; a slippery game indeed. Maybe the guy in the trunk didn’t make his tuna quota and was now shark bait.
A few more nudges against my back and I could hear it moving around. More squeals. Yup, someone was having a feast tonight. I almost burst out laughing because there was a pig walking around in the trunk of my cab. But I contained myself. I didn’t want to seem strange. So I acted like nothing at all was amiss. Every squeak and bump against the back seat was perfectly normal.
The absurdity of everyone in the car ignoring the sounds and movements also almost made me laugh, but I’m a disciplined anthropologist.
On my way into town I stuck my finger out to signal the next cab that I needed a ride. He pulled over and let me in. There were already 3 people riding this one, so the 2 in the back seat had to scrunch to the left to let me in. An exchange of greetings followed and we were on our way.
A few minutes later I felt a nudge against my back, like something had just pushed against the back seat. My first thought was, “Strange.” And then it happened again. My next thought was, “Something alive is riding in the trunk.” I glanced to my left to see if anyone else had noticed. Nope, or like me, they were playing dumb.
It didn’t take more than another minute to hear a low-squeal, almost a grunt, but definitely a squeal. I then remembered that this taxi had probably started at the end of the island (I live pretty close to one end) where there’s a pig farm.
But I was afraid to strike up a conversation about it, just in case it was actually somebody’s grandfather. “So,” I’d casually start, “Who’s having a feast tonight?” Abashed, the girl next to me might reply, “Jab jab. Grandfather and I only had the fare for one person.” I pictured one of my grandfathers in the darkness of the trunk; a darkly comical thought.
Then I imagined that I had uncovered an operation by the Majuro Mafia. Unlike the Italian mafia, their business is smuggling fish; a slippery game indeed. Maybe the guy in the trunk didn’t make his tuna quota and was now shark bait.
A few more nudges against my back and I could hear it moving around. More squeals. Yup, someone was having a feast tonight. I almost burst out laughing because there was a pig walking around in the trunk of my cab. But I contained myself. I didn’t want to seem strange. So I acted like nothing at all was amiss. Every squeak and bump against the back seat was perfectly normal.
The absurdity of everyone in the car ignoring the sounds and movements also almost made me laugh, but I’m a disciplined anthropologist.
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
It's gettin' hot in here
But we can’t take off all our clothes. So it’s no surprise that the Marshallese have bought into the idea of air conditioning in a very serious way. Practically every car I’ve ridden in and nearly every office has air-con. Fine.
But!
A lot of people don’t have a clear conception of how much juice these things drink. So it’s not uncommon for people to leave a door to the outside wide open while the air conditioning units in 10 offices are running. This is particularly the case where I work, at the Ministry of Education. About half the people shut the door and the other half just can’t be bothered. In the first two weeks I would get pretty upset. People ask: If the Marshall Islands invests the greatest amount of money into education in the entire Pacific island region, why do students perform so poorly? Well, maybe a lot of that money is going to Marshalls Electric Company.
I know it’s not people’s aim to waste the education system’s money. The head of such and such department doesn’t say to herself, “Those children have too many books!” and then plots to boost the electricity bill in order to cut the textbook budget.
The Marshallese are very considerate and polite with other people in general. Moreover, children are really at the center of the society. It’s become such a common sight for me to see older kids with the youngest ones. Tiny children are always being held. And I don’t know why, but Marshallese children don’t seem to cry.
I was told that if I have a problem with the air conditioning cooling the entire Pacific rim, I should relate the problem to people. That’s what gets the attention of Marshallese people; makes sense. When you get caught up in the budgetary and bureaucratic abyss of a government ministry, it’s no wonder that nobody really thinks about the electricity bill. I’m willing to bet there isn’t a single person at the Ministry that knows how much electricity costs month to month. Or, maybe the information isn’t disaggregated by building. So the Ministry simply has an electric bill that includes all the schools too.
I’m going to try an experiment. I’m gonna see if a sign that says something like: “Please keep the door closed so that more MOE $ goes to our children”, makes any difference. Habit is also really hard to break, so it may take a while.
But!
A lot of people don’t have a clear conception of how much juice these things drink. So it’s not uncommon for people to leave a door to the outside wide open while the air conditioning units in 10 offices are running. This is particularly the case where I work, at the Ministry of Education. About half the people shut the door and the other half just can’t be bothered. In the first two weeks I would get pretty upset. People ask: If the Marshall Islands invests the greatest amount of money into education in the entire Pacific island region, why do students perform so poorly? Well, maybe a lot of that money is going to Marshalls Electric Company.
I know it’s not people’s aim to waste the education system’s money. The head of such and such department doesn’t say to herself, “Those children have too many books!” and then plots to boost the electricity bill in order to cut the textbook budget.
The Marshallese are very considerate and polite with other people in general. Moreover, children are really at the center of the society. It’s become such a common sight for me to see older kids with the youngest ones. Tiny children are always being held. And I don’t know why, but Marshallese children don’t seem to cry.
I was told that if I have a problem with the air conditioning cooling the entire Pacific rim, I should relate the problem to people. That’s what gets the attention of Marshallese people; makes sense. When you get caught up in the budgetary and bureaucratic abyss of a government ministry, it’s no wonder that nobody really thinks about the electricity bill. I’m willing to bet there isn’t a single person at the Ministry that knows how much electricity costs month to month. Or, maybe the information isn’t disaggregated by building. So the Ministry simply has an electric bill that includes all the schools too.
I’m going to try an experiment. I’m gonna see if a sign that says something like: “Please keep the door closed so that more MOE $ goes to our children”, makes any difference. Habit is also really hard to break, so it may take a while.
Saturday, September 1, 2007
It dawned on me
It dawned on me recently that Marshallese folks love to laugh. It may be genetic, because it seems a smile reactively comes to face in the space of good humour. At first I thought my favourite laugh is a girl’s giggle.
Proof,
meant to be sung,
Then I had a thought while at work. Sitting one day at my desk in the Ministry, tucked away in the corner of a room called ‘Teacher Quality Office’, I stared at the Consumer Price Index for the Marshall Islands. The thought was, “Can this moment get any more boring?”
Suddenly the air in the room was sucked out the door (like when in a movie somebody shoots a hole in a flying plane). Not a moment later, the heartiest bellow of a laugh boomed out of a big lady out in the hallway. It was the healthiest laugh I ever heard. Must have taken all the air in the building to achieve that laugh.
But that wasn’t when it dawned on me that Marshallese folks love to laugh. Living for short periods of time in foreign countries is a challenge because I don’t understand what most people are saying. The conversations I’m not part of are in Marshallese, so when somebody laughs, hoots, giggles or even bellows a booming cacophony, I don’t understand why. That alone is reason enough to learn Marshallese!
That’s why it had to dawn on me slowly that it may be genetic that Marshallese people love to laugh. To learn, I had to hear it many times. And I’m glad to say I have.
Proof,
meant to be sung,
as the best laughs are.
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