Mr. Gersh goes to Majuro

Bringing Home the Silver

2006-03-30T01:48:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I entered Majuro’s annual Coconut Cup race. The Coconut Cup is a sailing race held each year where vessels ranging in size from one man dinghies to 90 foot yachts compete in short 3 mile circuit around the rusting appropriated fishing boats on the eastern side of the lagoon. I entered as a windsurfer and you will all be proud to know that I took home a silver Coconut Cup trophy, never mind the fact that there were only two registered windsurfers in the race. In addition to taking home a half coconut shell with a woven sail attached to it, my grand prize (chosen at random) is a free tattoo from one of the island’s tattoo artists. The certificate did not specify size so I’m open to suggestions. Here’s the list I’m considering so far

Potential--------------
A math equation
Return Address
The Three Rs

Not worth considering-----
barbed wire
Eyebrows
Sword with a coiled snake around it
The Nike swoosh
Instructions for Cooking

As you can see I need some help with ideas so if there are any of you out there that have ever imagined me with a tattoo, I could use your help right now, even if you are strongly cautioning me against the idea.

The Things We Take Pride In

2006-03-23T17:48:00.000-08:00

Today our journal topic was "Tell me about something you are proud of that you can do all by yourself." A lot of kids talked about household chores but I actually had one kid say "watching the t.v." Totally serious too. Best answer ever.

2006-03-16T22:55:00.000-08:00

2006-03-16T17:52:00.000-08:00

2006-03-14T13:29:00.000-08:00

Last day in Likiep

2006-03-14T13:28:00.000-08:00

This man was our host for the weekend. His name is Joe Debrum and the hospitality he showed us was on above and beyond anything we expected. We were told to bring our own food but Joe insisted on making us breakfast and dinner every night.

2006-03-14T13:24:00.000-08:00

Some friends walking back to the boat from snorkeling.

2006-03-14T13:23:00.000-08:00

We stayed at a place called the Plantation House. This was the view from the porch.

2006-03-14T13:21:00.000-08:00

Some friends and I went to an outer island called Likiep for spring break. This shot was taken from teh airplane on our way out from Likiep. This is one of the other islands in Likiet atoll.

2006-03-14T13:20:00.000-08:00

That a lot of Cat in Hats

2006-03-14T13:11:00.000-08:00

Maria hates having her picture taken... hates it. But she loves The Cat In The Hat.

2006-03-14T13:10:00.000-08:00

Ngyolani shows a job well done

2006-03-14T13:09:00.000-08:00

About two weeks ago we celebrated Dr. Seuss's birthday which is marked by the weeklong holiday Read Across America week. The capstone event to our week was making stovepipe hats like The Cat In The Hat wears. We didn't have enough paper to make the hats go all the way around our heads, so we adopted this adaptation of a headband. Here Vinson shows his pride in his work and his admiration for Dr. Seuss.

Zen Moments and Head Injuries

2006-03-01T21:03:00.000-08:00

This past Wednesday was a national holiday in the Marshall Islands. It was Nuclear Victims Remembrance Day and it’s purpose was to honor those who fell victim to the affects radiation after the United States detonated 67 nuclear explosions during a 12 year period. We had the day off from school which felt odd to have a holiday in the middle of the week but was actually pleasant. Wednesday as you might know is my toughest day of the week. It is the day when we don’t have any specialists so the kids are with me all day. I decided that in the morning I would take the new moped for a trip down to Laura. It’s about 30 miles and I wanted to see how the moped did on some long distance trips. I packed a small bottle of water but not much else. The drive down was awesome. A few days beforehand, I had downloaded the NPR Driveway Moments CDs onto my mp3 player for this trip specifically. I was anticipating an afternoon traveling similar to those I left back at home – with coverage of all the day’s events, as is one program’s slogan. But this ride was different. I had the very best stories from NPR’s entire history of broadcasting. Since I’m a rather new recruit to NPR, I missed out on hearing many stories live in their first broadcasts. But other I heard for a second time on this trip. Believe it or not, when I heard these stories again on Wednesday, I could remember exactly when and where I had first heard them. If you own the Driveway Moments CDs you may know which story I’m about to talk about. It was called “Doctor’s Stories” and it was about a physician who worked at Belleview Hospital in New York City. She was chosen as the subject for this story because she wrote a book called “Singular Intimacies” on the stories patients tell her. And hearing the story again, I was immediately brought back to my summer spent in Oregon a few years back. I was driving down the road to Indian Beach for an evening session after work. The road was lined with moss covered trees and snaked over hills and around small banked hills finally ending at the parking lot for Indian Beach. I had driven that road almost daily all summer long and I remember listening to the story not even feeling the road. The turns and braking by then had become more or less instinctual To be listening at that moment on a summer evening along the Oregon Coast and have the sun’s last rays pass through the trees was one of those remarkably unremarkable moments I’ve spoken about before. It’s significance was captured simply by incidence. When trying to relive a moment and have it bear the same significance as it’s predecessor is always kind of a let down. The second time always seems to have a watered down quality to it. Driving down Majuro’s one main road, thirty miles away from my home (which is far as you can get by car on Majuro), I can on the one hand say that it was a little sad looking back and reflecting on how much time has passed between the two times I heard those stories. But I left Majuro that morning not having any idea what stories I might listen to on my ride. I saved the first listening specifically for this trip. So in a way, hearing the piece again had the same quality of happenstance as the first time. Along another shoreline but on the same ocean at moment that is enveloped with the same sound. It’s become a cliché but I truly felt as though I was I was in the moment.
If you’re not really into what I just wrote, read on. But if your name is Grandma or are a health insurance company, please turn the computer off now. The day gets a whole lot better. It was brutally hot all day yesterday and by 5:00 or so, I was in dire need to get wet. I strapped my board to “The Bad Apple” (name of the scooter) and joined a couple of friends down at the bridge for a surf. Over the last couple of days, the tide has reached it’s peak height for the year, which makes surfing here less dangerous, or so one would think. The wave at the bridge is normally a very technical wave which I make about 10% of the time. Yesterday with the high tide, the wave had smoothed out into a beautiful slower, more watered down (pardon the expression) of itself. I had one of my best sessions yet. But of course on the last wave, it all went wrong. With the high tide, the level of the lagoon raised to a point where people’s back yards were under water. Seeing as how we live on land that is just a few square miles in area, finding place to dispose of one’s trash is a challenge. I’ve mentioned before that Majuro is not a clean place. And when the back yards turn into new sections of the lagoon, the coconuts, 2x4s, and all other trash that has sat there derelict for the past year, turns into a floating landfill. When the tide goes out, the many passes of Majuro lagoon turn into rivers of trash. Old broken toys, dirty diapers, plastic bags and bottles, they all get sucked out to sea. It just so happens that the bridge, where we surf, happens to be one of the passes into Majuro lagoon. It all gets stuck in the break and makes the waiting game go even slower. On what turned out to be my last wave of the day yesterday, I incurred the wrath of the trash. I went duckdive an oncoming wave. I was underwater when it broke over my head. But in the process, I took what was either a 2x4 or a coconut to the head. When I came up, they were both sitting there looking like equally suspiciously guilty parties. I put my hand up to my head and looked at my palm to find it covered in blood. Well, those of you who know me well know that isn’t the first time I’ve needed stitches from surfing. You’ll see a picture below of what it looked like last night after they stitched me up. Pretty gruesome, eh. Needless to say, Mr. Andy had a whole lot of questions from the class on his new bald spot. I told them that a monster bit me which caused in them all a brief solitary moment of absolute petrified terror. But then I told them truth. Most of them seemed very concerned, except for one. She laughed.

DO NOT READ ON IF YOU DO NOT LIKE TO SEE HEAD INJURIES

2006-03-01T20:59:00.000-08:00

AMAZE YOUR FRIENDS!!! Take one coconut and mix with one head. Shave head and suture with five stitches. The white stuff you see is only Bacitracin, not the early signs of severe infection. My God, no wonder that girl laughed.

2006-02-27T01:06:00.000-08:00

I had to let the first moped go. When I recieved it, there were a lot of problems left over from the manufacturer. But the man who sold it to was nice enough to let me exhange for this one. This shot was after school today. The broad smile accounts for the fact that I will never have to hitchhike to the bridge anymore. Although it may look perilous, this little rigging system I devised is surprisingly secure.

Barbasol

2006-02-17T14:17:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I thought we would have some fun in the classroom. I found a creative little lesson on National Geographic’s website that had kids building models of landforms out of shaving cream. I thought this would be an amusing way to assess the students on distinguishing the characteristics of the landforms we studied. Whoops! About 4 kids followed directions when I said “show me what an atoll looks like” or “show me a volcano.” To the rest of the kids, it was as if they were on an episode of that old Nickelodeon show Double Dare. Oh and if any of you are reading this and feel like you’re spinning your wheels at your job back home, we have a few openings next year.

-7th grade teacher – will teach 7th grade social studies and middle school math
-6th grade teacher – will teach 6th grade social studies and 5th and 6th grade language arts (aka English)
-Possibly Kindergarten – will teach kindergarten to a group who are now in preschool and are by far the most well behaved group of preschoolers I have ever seen.
-Either 5th grade social studies and 7th and 8th grade language arts or 8th grade social studies and middle school science.

So there’s a little something for everyone. Please email me if you are interested and I will pass your information on to our principal.

2006-02-17T14:10:00.000-08:00

Others found the shaving cream a little less manageable.

2006-02-17T14:06:00.000-08:00

Mr. Andy, Can I have more shaving cream?

2006-02-17T14:04:00.000-08:00

Albios and "mini Majuro"

2006-02-17T14:01:00.000-08:00

Mael with his signature pose. It might be kind of difficult to see but the directions were "show me an atoll" hence the small hole in the pile of shaving cream.

2006-02-17T14:00:00.000-08:00

My new scooter

Learning About Where We Live

2006-02-10T14:05:00.000-08:00

Hi Everybody!
I know the last post wasn’t up to snuff and left most of you questioning my sanity. But it was a slow news week in the Marshalls and most of the time, even our local newspaper can’t produce stories on that magnitude. This last week wasn’t very exciting either but it made me recall where I was last year at this time.
I had just mailed off my references to Search Associates and was on my way to Carmel for what was probably one of the greatest weekends of my life. It was only great because of the contrast it took to the rest of my weekends at that time. I arrived late Thursday night and rented my first car ever, a pint sized Chevrolet something or other. I went to sleep in comfortable hotel room and awoke the next morning to one of my most memorable runs . It wound through through a park that only my friend Rogers will remember the name of and up the wall of a valley. Coming from the cold weather and relatively flat runs in Tacoma, I remember how wierd it felt to sweat and have my lungs burn like hot coals. I jogged up and down the trails and over streams and felt very satisfied with my first victory of the weekend. The breakfast afterwards at the Black bear café across the street from my hotel was blueberry pancakes. I saw that restaurant before I left for my run and told myself that their famous pancakes were to be my reward if I ran until I absolutely drained the tanks to E. That afternoon I spent exploring Safeway, getting ready for my interviews, and relaxing at the shore in Carmel. When the weekend was finished, I had three job offers from the job fair and one that I had managed to finagle on the side in the Marshall Islands.
And here I am one year later. I will remember that weekend for the friends I met, the drinks we drank at the Mucky Duck Tavern, and the opportunities for work in all corners of the world I was met with and wound up turning down.
But most of all, I will remember that run and the pancakes afterwards. Looking back, I would’ve bought the plane ticket to Carmel just for that.
I am at that mental mid year point again when I realize the amount of ground you’ve covered but have a difficult time appreciating it because there are still 5 months left until summer. I may sound a little more down than I have in my previous posts. I’ve also had my first prolonged cold in years and haven’t been able to do anything after work for the last two weeks except come home and sleep. But for almost two and a half years of teaching and getting sick just now; well that’s a pretty good streak. Even with this cold, I’ve been in the classroom and been able to record a few classic moments and mileposts that my kids have reached.
- We are learning about landforms in social studies. We don’t have much of a first grade social studies curriculum so I’ve been putting some lessons together on things that I think will interest the kids. We studied volcanoes first. It was a rather brief lesson but they enjoyed making volcanoes out of play dough and watching them explode as I doused thier creations in vinegar, baking soda, and food coloring. Since Majuro is an atoll and all atolls used to be volcanoes, I thought that would another interesting landform to study. Atolls are volcanoes that have detached from their underground cracks. As the continental plates drift, they carry the old volcanoes in a cleft in the earth’s crust. Since they no longer have the ability to erupt, they begin the crumble under their own weight. As this happens, the fringing reef on what is slowly becoming the “ocean side” grows and evolves into a barrier reef. The center portion erodes sinking under its own weight and a lagoon forms in the middle. Now try explaining this to a first grader. It’s important for them the know where they live and with the vested interest they showed in volcanoes, reason led me to believe they would enjoy learning about atolls. I explained with drawings and in very rudimentary details the process that a volcano undergoes to become an atoll. Most of them were able to understand the basics but they had some really interesting questions that I just didn’t want to get into. For instance, I didn’t go into details about the volcano moving due to the shifting of the continental plate and it’s placement along the earth’s crust. So when one student asked “Why does the volcano stop erupting” I was forced to say “It just does.” We went outside and made a human model of a volcano turning into an atoll and that helped the kids grasp a better understanding of the concept. But from an onlookers point of view, it probably resembled some sort of an interpretive dance or religious ritual. Later on, when the kids were coloring their sheets outlining the process, I walked around and asked them questions about how atolls are formed and was really surprised at the amount of information they had retained and understood.
- Last night we had our school wide dance. That’s right! Preschool to eighth grade were cordially invited to cut the rug at the Lanai Club (not as fancy as it sounds). If you’re in preschool, first, or second you dance and have a blast. But if you’re any older, you act like you’re forced to be there and be victimized by some ritualistic preteen sort of torture. One thing that was both funny and disturbing was watching my kids doing that move that Britney popularized – the forearm in front of the face thing.
- I’m buying a scooter. Hopefully it will be off the container today and I’ll be able to make my first solo trip down to Laura.

Top of the Morning to You

2006-01-31T01:45:00.000-08:00

To greet someone a good morning in Marshallese you simply say "Morning" or "Morning, morning" if you really mean it. That's just to help with translating the following transcript of a conversation that I had with a student this morning. Have you ever arrived at work, locked your car door, and immediatly felt that feeling of "Oh crap! I left (item) on the counter." Maybe it was your lunch or briefcase. Maybe it was your gradebook or your keys. But I'll wager you probably never said, "Oh crap. I left my leg on the countertop" or have arrived at work, stepped out of your car and noticed that you are now dragging a third one off your rear end. Maybe this student was just practicing her English. Maybe it was an astute observation. Maybe walking into work on two legs in the Marshall Islands is as anomolous as walking into work with three legs in the United States. I invite you to read the following transcript of a conversation that I had with a student this morning and devise your own conclusions.

Time: 7:30 am
Place: Majuro Co-op Playground

Mr. Andy: Morning, Morning!
Other students: Morning!
Emily(yelling loudly): Hey Mr. Andy! You have two legs!

Well, I guess the secret's out. I have two legs. For God sakes, stop staring at me! Take care folks.

2006-01-09T20:56:00.000-08:00

Ah the infamous "eat and run" solution to mouse troubles. A tried a true way to to rid your house of mice.

2006-01-09T20:54:00.000-08:00

I can just imagine "Hurry up! Hide the mouse up your nose so mom doesn't see it!" The sad thing was in introducing this journal topic I might've sarcastically proposed this as a plausible way of ridding your house of mice. Well, so much for sarcasm.

2006-01-09T20:53:00.000-08:00

I think what she meant was lick it and then eat it. Either way, it takes the mouse problem off of my hands.

2006-01-09T20:51:00.000-08:00

What this student lacks in artistic ability he/she makes up for in the graphic details of how they will end the life of the rodent.

2006-01-09T20:47:00.000-08:00

Monica has an obvious distate for rodents as shown in her vehement proclomation "all stamp it and spray the mouse nose." I think vengeful anger is an important quality for an exterminator to have.

2006-01-09T20:45:00.000-08:00

I think this might be Sharron's solution to solving a mouse problem. Viable and seemingly simplistic, I would most likely hire this one as my exterminator.

What would you do?

2006-01-09T20:41:00.000-08:00

One night last winter while I was reading at home on a Friday night and simultaneously festering in Tacoma, I saw a mouse scamper across my bedroom floor. Thinking that my room was under the infestation of mice, I ran to the store and purchased a half dozen mouse traps for my room. I bated them with peanut butter and then set out to place them in spots where I would most likely catch the culprit (in the closet, under my bed and the heat register, under my desk, etc.) I never caught the mouse and six months later when I moved out, I found that I had only succeeded in growing mold.
Apparently there are better, more tried and true ways to catch mice. Last week in reading we read a story called "Eek! There's a Mouse in the House!" and one of our daily journal assignments proposed a "What would you do?" scenario - If you found a mouse in your house, what would you do?" Before you read on, I feel obligated to mention that these solutions were made up completely on the part of my students (well mostly, you usually have to give them a few examples to get them going). While perhaps effective in thier own right, I would feel irrresponsible if I did not mention that I do not condone nor have a I tried any of these practices. Many of these solutions are dangerous, potentially deadly, and should not be tried at home. Especially shoving a mouse up your nose ... don't do that! Enjoy.

2006-01-04T02:12:00.000-08:00

Sarah from World Teach and I celebrating 2005.

2006-01-04T02:10:00.000-08:00

Ahh, the New Years block party. I'd give the details but as you can see, children are present.

2006-01-04T02:07:00.000-08:00

It's amazing what you stumble on when you've tied a few on. This was New Years Eve when I met Erika, a World Teach volunteer. No, we're not getting married, or even dating, Mom. But you may be just as excited to know that she is another former employer of Colvig Silver Camps. She worked there the summer after my last summer. Small world, eh!

2006-01-04T02:05:00.000-08:00

Mom and Dad on one of the trees at Laura beach.

A visit from mom and dad

2006-01-04T02:01:00.000-08:00

Where should I start? With the visit from family halfway around the world? With the first grade boys dressed in attire strikingly similar to that of Mormon elders performing Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree?” With a visit to an outer island that was summed up best by my mother with the words “It’s a good thing we didn’t bring Grandma?” With diving in water so deep and so blue that my view of the world was quite literally turned upside down? The last few weeks in my own little Lake Wobegon have been anything but quiet.
Bubu and Juma were their new nick names (meaning Grandma and Grandpa in Marshallese) and when my parents arrived, they in effect adopted my class as grandchildren for three days. They even went as far as sneaking them candy behind their parent’s (me) back. My mom and dad spent three days volunteering as aides in my class as we finished out our last week of school. This was their first encounter with Marshallese culture (excluding customs and hotel check in) and the greeting that my students gave them set the tone for the cordiality and sincerity that would be the standard for the remainder of their trip. All it took was my parents walking out the door to recess, and they were immediately surrounded by nearly every child and almost every staff member asking “Are you Mr. Andy’s Mom and Dad? How do you like the Marshall Islands? Do you want to jump rope?”
The hospitality of their three days spent at school converged on our evening of the Christmas concert. My directions to the boys were to wear “white collared shirts, pants, and neckties.” Somehow I had forgotten that it is 85 degrees here year round and that if my boys owned collared shirts, they were most likely short sleeved. So you can imagine the look of happenstance that I had on my face when I walked into the venue and saw the boys in my class dressed looking like miniature Mormon elders. The only thing they lacked were the nametags. When it was time to perform, every class from preschool through eight grade, stepped up to the stage and sang with such joy and charisma, it only added the to greeting my parents received the previous day. Preschool stole the show with a screaming version of “Jeremiah was a Bullfrog.” But I have to say my class’s choreographed routine to Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, complete with air-sax solo, will probably go down as the greatest show ever put on by a first grade class in the history of the world.
With the second quarter of school wrapping up the next day, we had a sparse attendance in class. My class along with my parents spent the day in perpetual first grade party mode starting out with the morning movie Madagascar. This led to a junk food lunch catered by such wonderful brands as Oreo, Pringle, and Duncan Hines which led to our afternoon activity (perhaps the only remotely educational portion of the day), making kites. We sent the kids home at 2:30 just as they were crashing from their sugar overdoses and I was crashing from 4 months of teaching them.
For the first few days of winter break, my mother being one to always sneak in a little work wherever she goes, entertained herself by catching up on research for her doctoral thesis that she shlepped with her. Dad, being a prudent packer, shlepped scuba gear. And for two days, we had incredible diving. We dove with white tip reef sharks, a grouper the size of one of those pumpkins you only see at the fair, drift dove alongside a wall of table coral that lead to the bottom of ocean. We dove with puffer fish, three banded anemone fish (Nemo, which believe it or not can only be found in the Marshalls), and so much more aquatic life that it would take you days to get through this blog entry.
In traveling to destinations such as the Marshalls that occupy the warmest waters the Pacific has to offer, one cannot escape the allure of the ideal – a little island ringed with a white sandy beach and coconuts in copious supply. Majuro this is not (except for the part about the coconuts). To see what folks here call “real outer island life,” you have to visit the outer islands. There is one not too far from Majuro, about 10 miles to the east called Arno. You reach Arno by taking a small boat that bashes its way through the notoriously rough channel between Majuro and Arno. Drenched in seawater and probably bruised almost beyond recognition just from crashing through the waves, my mom turned to me and summed up the trip with just these simple words – “It’s probably a good thing we didn’t take Grandma.” For three days we stayed on this not so distant island of Majuro and immersed ourselves in outer island life. Maybe immersed is the wrong word. We stayed at a little bed and breakfast and buried our noses in books and coconuts. As a tourist with a lack of motivation to do much of anything else (and even with a motivation, one could only add one or two more similarly lackluster activities) we accomplished everything we set out to do, which as you can see was almost nothing. Life for the locals moves at about the same pace. The boys play basketball along the one dirt road, families farm copra (coconut meat) to turn an absolutely miniscule profit, people visit their neighbors and sit and talk. From my three days on Arno, I gathered this was everyday life…pretty remarkably unremarkable.
The trip to Arno was the capstone event of my Parent’s trip out here. And after that, it just didn’t feel right trying to recreate or outdo a trip on the scale and magnitude of Arno. So we sat and read some more. If the truest and most holistic purpose of vacation is to leave schedules behind, relax and live, albeit briefly, based on decisions of pure spur of the moment desire, I can safely say we honorably served and upheld our duties. I’ve had Christmas vacations every year since I was six years old. This year marks the big 20 year anniversary of Christmas vacations and I think that this year I best fulfilled the obligations that come with vacationing. If I’m around here next year for the twenty first, you’re welcome to come and join me. Be sure to pack a book but not much more.

And Stories To Come

2005-12-23T20:15:00.000-08:00

That's what it says. When I get a few minutes, I'll write a little bit and tell about the last few weeks. Take care.

2005-12-23T20:13:00.000-08:00

Boys playing Ukulele

2005-12-23T20:10:00.001-08:00

lagoon side picnic hut at Arno

2005-12-23T20:10:00.000-08:00

The short trail from our cabin to the lagoon side beach

2005-12-23T20:09:00.000-08:00

Some of the kids on Arno

2005-12-23T20:06:00.000-08:00

Isao, the caretaker of the cabin we stayed in on Arno

2005-12-23T20:04:00.000-08:00

Joseann and Crystalyn

2005-12-23T20:02:00.000-08:00

Look at where Marshall's eyes are. Again, priceless!

2005-12-23T20:01:00.000-08:00

If these guys showed up on my doorstep, I would have a hard time saying no to them.

2005-12-23T19:59:00.000-08:00

Mael, happy with his arranged marriage to Joseann. Just kidding. When I took this picture, I kept asking them to get closer and closer. Mael (the boy) obliged but Joseann kept inching away little by little with each approach that Mael made. Mael, being one to please struck this priceless pose when I counted to three to take the picture.

2005-12-23T19:56:00.000-08:00

This is from our Christmas concert where the boys in class mistook my directions for proper attire and all decided to come dressed as Mormon elders. Here's Peter taking his job with the church very seriously. Sir, Yes Sir!!

2005-12-03T15:50:00.000-08:00

Our trip to the clam farm two weeks ago was big news here in Majuro. This is the shot that made it into the local paper the following Thursday. The recognition we recieved can most likely be attributed to the fact that the editor in chief of the paper was a chaperone on the trip.

2005-11-26T23:36:00.000-08:00

This is the boat I am sailing on, Windswept. As I mentioned before, it's a 64 foot tri-maran so it's hard to get the whole boat in one shot. This was after our race which we were expecteed to win but failed to even cross the starting line. Yes the starting line. Don't ask!!

2005-11-26T23:33:00.000-08:00

Today we had our first sailing race. You can see that we ran into a little squall. This was a boat coming up on our starboard side.

What you're looking at

2005-11-24T02:15:00.000-08:00

So the following pictures are from the past few weeks at Co-op. Today, my class had its first field trip of the year, the clam farm. The next set is our introduction to tangram (pattern blocks) activities. The last pictures are from our Halloween celebration. Enjoy!

2005-11-23T20:31:00.001-08:00

"Thank you Mr. Tom!!!"

2005-11-23T20:31:00.000-08:00

Even with a shark lurking not 3 feet behind them, my kids anything but aprehensive.

2005-11-23T20:29:00.000-08:00

Crystalyn and Monica

2005-11-23T20:28:00.000-08:00

This face tells me that Kelly will probably be running the clam farm one day all by herself. The kid behind her, maybe.

2005-11-23T20:27:00.000-08:00

Get a load of this turtle!!

2005-11-23T20:26:00.000-08:00

Monica explains how exactly hermaphrodites (giant clams) have babies.

2005-11-23T20:25:00.000-08:00

Tom is a friend of mine who runs the clam farm. When he pulled this guy out of the water and invited the kids to feel the shell, I think he was more overwhelmed than the turtle.

2005-11-23T20:23:00.000-08:00

Today we had our first field trip. We went to the local clam farm where the American company "Ocean Reefs and Fisheries" breeds giant clams to sell back in the United States. Sharron, Nadia, and Ngarangi pass the time on the way to the farm with some Dr. Suess. I think they were reading "Ten Apples on Top."

2005-11-23T20:21:00.000-08:00

Once the kids found out they could make flowers, they were addicted.

2005-11-23T20:20:00.001-08:00

Randy puts a lot of pride into his work.

2005-11-23T20:20:00.000-08:00

Ummm... Wow!

2005-11-23T20:19:00.000-08:00

Robert stoked on his creation.

2005-11-23T20:18:00.001-08:00

We're free to "Tangram" here as much as we want!

2005-11-23T20:18:00.000-08:00

Peter as Spiderman

2005-11-23T20:16:00.000-08:00

This was on Halloween. Eric Tsia, a kindergartner strikes a pose as Porthos.

The First Thanksgiving

2005-11-22T22:22:00.000-08:00

It’s Wednesday here which in the past I have never really looked forward too. It’s a day when I have the kids from 8 until 2:30 with the only breaks being a half hour for lunch and 20 minutes for recess. Other than that there is no break. And in the past, I have found myself scrounging for engaging material to hold the kids’ interest for the part of the day when everyone in the classroom, myself included, want nothing more than to go home. As I’ve become more accustomed to my schedule, my ability to plan for the inevitable arrival of Wednesday has improved. I used to slot in half hour of singing. The first week they enjoyed it as well as the second week when the remembered some of the songs. However, having two blocks of scheduled music class with a teacher actually trained in music instruction proved to be an already healthy dose of singing for these kids. So I tried doing some social studies. With limited writing ability, I resorted to activities that had the kids drawing pictures. I’ve never met kids so reluctant to draw. I remember when I was in grade school abhorring any assignment that required me to write. But if it involved drawing pictures, I considered it a fair compromise. But back to my kids and their drawings. Almost all of them rush through the job as if it was a plate of spinach that had to be eaten before they could get dessert. You can almost see them plugging their noses. Since I’m proponent of the practice makes perfect mantra, I make them draw as much as I can. At least twice a day usually. I think my directions frustrate them even more… “Ok kids, to draw a car, draw an oval with two circles on the bottom.” They laugh but not at the joy of their creations. Rather it’s because my car and my directions, lead them to draw an oval with two circles that is more representative of a phallus than a car. What’s even funnier is when I ask them problem solve, inquire, or perform any other sort of high powered thinking and represent their thoughts through drawings rather than words.
On Wednesdays now have a science block which, from the responses I got today, the kids really seem to enjoy. We are performing the legendary science experiment of placing a dried lima bean in a wet paper towel and observing the changes that it undergoes. My question to them two days ago was “What do you think this bean will look like tomorrow?” A flower, a tree, a big bean were some of the responses I got. Albios, who you can find if you scroll back through some of the pictures, thought that bean would turn into a quarter overnight. He even convinced others at his table of this potential marvel of nature. In looking over their drawings of predictions the next day, I found multiple drawings that implied putting beans in paper towels somehow, someway is a way make small profit. When I revealed the actual phenomenon of the bean growing twice its size and sprouting a small plant, I expected to hear the kids screaming about the bean being broken or a rip off. The good thing about a lesson on predictions is showing them that predictions can be wrong. Even if they were expecting a wet wad of money to emerge from the paper towel, they didn’t show a hint of discontent. They all marveled at the sight of the bean and the fact that it twice it size over night.
I thought I’d move on to the challenge portion of the experiment and ask them to make another prediction: What will happen if I fill this juice box full of lima beans, pour water over them, and seal it shut with tape. Some guessed the beans will grow, others were optimistic and hoped for a flowers or a beanstalk. Others mistook the box for a Santa disguise and were hoping that tomorrow they would find a doll on the inside or instead of a quarter, a dollar now. Again, the nice thing about teaching the skill of making predictions…. They say it’s not good to laugh at the kids. But most of the time, it really is next to impossible.
Anywhoo, tomorrow is Thanksgiving and most of you are probably sitting down to dinners with multiple helpings of turkey, potatoes, sweet potatoes, stuffing, green bean casserole, cranberries, pie, ice cream, cheese curds (which I know my family will devour), gardettos for the big game, and whatever else the host manages to put out. Before I sat down to write this I remembered that we celebrate Thanksgiving to commemorate not only our freedom, but also to remember the Pilgrims first harvest. Which got me thinking, is eating a meal of such volume really an accurate celebration of a first harvest? Do you really think that after one year, and probably less than that, the Pilgrims were blessed with a bounty of food so great it could induce a coma after it was eaten? The immigrant stories you hear never tell of someone who stepped off the ship and was blessed with a shit load of food for the holidays. I have nothing to back this up and I’ll probably get a bunch of email attachments of scholarly papers from professors who have studied the first Thanksgiving in detail and have memorized all the side dishes. But my guess is the pilgrims probably ate some ground up corn and squirrels for Thanksgiving dinner. Plus, where the hell were they gonna find cranberries. I mean they’re good and I won’t turn them down, but maybe they should be somehow segregated from the rest of the "more accurate" Thanksgiving entrees.
Ri-belles (white people, oddly enough) are celebrating Thanksgiving here in force. And I’ll probably attend a dinner or two and I’ll probably eat a lot, pass out, and then eat some more. But I guarantee you, I will not once think that what I’m eating is a tribute to the meal the Pilgrims ate. Hmm, but if anyone wants to send me a squirrel, I send you a picture of a Thanksgiving meal. Happy Thanksgiving, friends.

The Trades

2005-11-21T01:54:00.000-08:00

The season of the trade winds has officially hit Majuro. It means the surf will become more and more sporadic until March or April. But for those who find their tempo with the wind, these months offer the most consistent and cleanest wind the Pacific has to offer. Much in the same way that snow birds park their RVs in Arizona end enjoy an endless summer, several yachts moor in Majuro through March to enjoy an endless windy season. And then I suppose, when the winds change or move locations, the Yachts will proceed in suit. During the trades season, the owners of these yachts participate in races which, as far as I know, offer a grand prize of bragging rights in Majuro. And God bless the owners of these spectacular vessels because when they need a crew, or more precisely, take a batch of inexperienced land lubbers and offer them the privilege of learning to crew, they look to the locals. This last weekend was the official “learn to crew” day sponsored by our local yacht club. When I say “yacht club” most of you are probably picturing men in white trousers, sitting in a cabin of varnished teak with a platter of local delicacies prepared just moments earlier by his private chef. It’s a little different here but the details are not important in this story. Although, worth noting, my new yacht club membership works for any yacht club in the world. So maybe when I’m in Monaco or St. Thomas, the scene I just described will perhaps be more accurate. But now I’m in Majuro, so I’ll get on with it. I chose to have my first crewing lesson on the largest boat here, a sixty four foot tri-maran built by the captain himself over a period of eight years. The captain and his wife have been living off of their boat for the last six years, living many of your dreams of sailing around the world. Just as they chose last year, they are spending the season in Majuro to compete in the yacht races. Sailing on a boat of this size, not to mention again, built by one man, is an experience like no other.
When the captain yells “ready about” and your hands are cranking the winch which are wrapped in the sheet of a 500 lb sail and the vessel which is now turning is only at the behest of wind and the speed of your hands, well…. Using one of nature’s greatest transformative forces or rather working in partnership with it is for me, indescribable with words. The next day, the addiction is so overwhelming that you find yourself trying windsurfing and using the know how of harnessing wind that you learned the previous day. You may actually find that you’re enjoying yourself and after a couple of hours, you’re using body weight to heal the board and although you had not intended, reach land under darkness (whoops!) and the breeze you were using is blowing at a consistent 15 knots. Well, for an uneventful past month or so, the last two days have more than made up for it. You’ll know where to find me if you’re in the area. Take care guys. Keep in touch!

2005-10-24T12:10:00.000-07:00

I saw this on my way home last night. It reminded me of a line from Bill Bryson's book "Lost Continent." When approaching a similar grammatical blunder while driving across the U.S. he writes, "A few miles further down the road there was another sign that said "We still can't punctuate."'

2005-10-24T11:54:00.000-07:00

That little speck on the wave is me. I forgot to show the photographer where the zoom button was.

2005-10-24T11:53:00.000-07:00

Provin and I surfing. I'm on the left.

Not To Be Taken Literally

2005-10-18T01:09:00.000-07:00

I apologize for not keeping my promise of updating you all weekly on my stay here in the Marshalls. The news I have is of little consequence and probably will not even make a ripple in the lives of all of you (the readers). However even when there is nothing going on, there is still always something new to report. For evidence of that just watch you local news channels. But I digress. On with the news from the unbearably hot (meaning the Marshall Islands just in case you were temporarily confused).
The Marshalls, similar to many other tropical destinations boasts having some the greatest scuba diving in the world. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been learning the basics behind mortally injuring yourself underwater, or how not to. Last Saturday I went for my first dive which was down to about 40 feet. It was part of the training protocol and I passed but the first minute underwater, breathing off bottled air, sitting on “the ocean floor,” was hands down one of the weirdest and most frightening experiences I’ve had. It was similar to riding your bike without any hands – you let go for a second, the bike continues along its predestined path, and you say to yourself “Well I can cross that off my list and now I NEVER have to do it again. I can say to everyone ‘yes I can ride a bike with no hands.’” It’s good to know you can do it and if a situation ever arose where you would have to ride your bike without hands, you would be able to perform. But from this point forward, your conscience will lead you towards prudent and rational decisions, and you will never ride your bike without hands again. Or so you believe until about a minute later you try it again and discover that, yes, you can still ride without any hands but would only do so in the future if the situation absolutely demanded it.
The first minute or so of breathing underwater is in many ways similar. I sat on the bottom in 10 feet of water, breathing with no trouble at all. But I had an urge to shoot to the top, or grab the handle bars if you followed the lead in to this entry, and say “that’s it! I’ve done it. I can breathe underwater and if I ever find myself in an involuntary situation where I am strapped with a tank of air, shoved off a boat, and ordered to sink to a depth of 10 feet and breathe or I would be shot, I could survive (until I ran out of air).” Of course, if you know anything about scuba diving, shooting to the top (grabbing the handlebars, again) can lead to your demise rather than recovery. It is better, meaning increases your chances your living through the ordeal, to stay underwater, continue breathing, and wait for directions from your dive instructor (that’s as far as I’ve gotten in my dive instruction). For those you who tend to take the word of parables literally (i.e. interpreting the bible as saying the apocalypse was supposed to have come with the millennium), PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE THE HANDLEBARS FROM YOUR BICYCLES. I don’t think I need to go any further.
So the big story is I’m taking my scuba certification course. Also tomorrow I’ll be relocating from the Co-op school to the house at 17 mile beach. Once I’m out there, I won’t have internet access but will post pictures on the blog. It’s pretty sweet, but I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves.
And now some pictures of the kids. I don’t know exactly what their doing in the pictures but nonetheless, they show what a blast they are to teach.

2005-10-18T01:06:00.000-07:00

Three Amigos - Albios, Peter, and Mael. Mael greets me every morning with "I'm fine, thank you" and sometimes I don't even need to ask.

2005-10-18T01:04:00.000-07:00

Joseann. She made a sliding stop head first into the gravel that you see at her feet and lived to tell about it!

2005-10-18T01:03:00.000-07:00

Toruwe. Kind of like taking laughing gas. Guaranteed to be hilarious!!

2005-10-18T01:01:00.001-07:00

Andrea. Believe it or not, she has relatives in Spokane!!

2005-10-18T01:01:00.000-07:00

This captures the whole of the experience so far.

2005-10-18T01:00:00.000-07:00

Randy. I'll probably get a lot of flack from some of you for this but he and say goodbye to each other everyday with "hasta la pasta." And, yes, I taught him that.

Weekend Trip

2005-10-01T16:28:00.000-07:00

About 60 nautical miles south of Majuro lies another dotted set of islands called Mili Atoll. When Robert Louis Stevenson first sailed into the Marshall Islands he called them the “pearls of the Pacific,” which undoubtedly is reference to the string of islands that make up each individual atoll and I would not be surprised if he thought of this phrase when sailing through Mili. Living on Majuro, I’ve become accustomed to living around the day to day matter of a developing country – cars, slums, trash, charming children, shacks, tiny stores that carry ramen and chewing gum. In contrast, Mili is virtually uninhabited. I’ve heard there are people who live on the main island, and apparently there is a runway and even a road. But for the three days I spent on a boat fishing the lagoon, the only evidence of life I saw was the occasional abandoned shack on a very remote island. I certainly didn’t see anyone living there and I definitely didn’t see a runway. You can get an idea of what the scenery is like from the pictures that I’ve included above this blog.
I was invited last week to go fishing with a Co-op family and I accepted the invitation knowing this was a rare chance to see what the father called “real outer island living.” It was three day weekend so we left about 7:00 pm on Thursday night. I had heard the trip can be rough so I prepared by taking a few Dramamine before I got on the boat. In about 30 minutes, the first stitches of drowsiness set in so I found some space on the bench in the cabin and settled in for the night. There were some swells on the water so I was never fully able to fall asleep but instead just sorta dozed half awake, half asleep. Later on the evening when one of the beds freed up, I thought I’d give it a try. The swells were still fairly high and the trip wasn’t any calmer. But I thought that if I could at least lie down instead of bracing myself still in half supine position, I might be able to sleep a little more soundly. I went to lie down on the bed which was at the front of the boat (and evidently the part that hits every single swell and ripple with the maximum force). I lied down for what seemed like less than a minute before I was fully airborne above the bed. The Dramamine was now fully working and I had assumed a semi-catatonic state – able to hear what was going on but incapable of reacting. I landed face down on the bed with a tremendous thud. After about 2 or 3 more of those, I picked myself up from the bed and resumed my braced position on the bench.
Friday morning came with rain, but we had the fortune of tremendous fishing. The pictures tell the stories better than I can. In the morning I bottom fished and hooked 2 rainbow runners and a grouper among a few others that I can’t remember (nor have the evidence for). The afternoon however was when we really hit it. I took to cat napping to catch up on sleep from the night prior and during these times the other guys fished. In the late afternoon I woke to everyone hooting so I grabbed my camera thinking they had reeled in a good catch. They hadn’t reeled it in yet but on the other end of a 50 lb test line was a 400 lb marlin. After I took a few shots and a short movie of the fish flailing in and out of the water, they (being the other guys on board) slipped a harness over my head which would hold the pole. The shots you see of me red faced with 3 guys facing me is what it took to attempt to land this fish. They would try and pull in line with their hands and I would reel. Before we were able to pull in a respectable amount of line, the marlin had nearly taken the line to its end. And when you see the size of the reel, you realize how much line that is. In the end, Kenneth, our captain, wound up cutting the fish loose before were able to land it. We didn’t have the ice to carry that big a fish with us and if we had taken it on board, we would have had to cut the trip short to go back to Majuro.
But that wasn’t the end of the day, not even close. I was awakened from another nap to guys screaming something about a school. On the other side of one of the islands, a huge flock of seabirds were feasting on a school of small fish near the surface. And where these birds feast on schools of miniscule fish, 50 lb yellowfin tuna turn the water in a roiling death match for rights to their dinner. Every man on the boat grabbed a line of some sort as we sped towards the school. Some had poles rigged with flashy lures and others held spools of line that would be pulled in by hand when the fish attacked the lure. Tuna fishing, or maybe it was just this tuna fishing, is like no other fishing I have ever experienced. There is no art or tact involved, like what one might find when fly fishing. The cast consists of throwing your hook from the back of a boat and letting the speed of the boat pull your line out for you. This is happening at full throttle and everyone is trying to get their line in the water. Then the captain makes a graceful u-turn and heads directly into the flock of birds feasting on the school. He slows down so the tuna will at least see the lure and they take it as it speeds by their head. There’s no indication of strike, your line just gets very very heavy. You pull the line in with your hands as fast as you can with everyone on the boat egging you on, unhook the 40 pounder as you see in the picture, and get set up for another go around. The whole thing lasts only a few minutes, but it’s an insane adrenaline rush.
Those were the highlights of the rainy day fishing. We ended the evening with some night bottom fishing and those are the shots you see of me with red snapper. This fish I found out that morning makes a great breakfast as indicated by yet another picture.
On Saturday, the fishing slowed down but I did get to try net fishing for rabbit fish. The shot of the pile of fish is the bounty of our catch. I also spent some time in the water with a snorkel and spear. I hit one fish but it slipped of the spear. Even though the fish got away I can now say that I have swam with sharks. The biggest one was maybe 5 feet and it wasn’t one of the notoriously dangerous sharks like a great white. For the record it was a small black tip reef shark. But to have these sharks within striking distance is an incredible feeling. Thank G-d they’re shy and rarely, if ever, become curious around humans.
So that’s the weekend in Mili. Those of you who are coming to visit, I’ll try to arrange something similar while you are here either with a dive guide or a fisherman depending on what floats your boat. Take care folks.

2005-10-01T16:27:00.000-07:00

This is a reef shark one of the guys hooked on our second night. It gives you an idea how big they are.

2005-10-01T16:26:00.000-07:00

Red snapper for breakfast. Even more tasty.

2005-10-01T16:25:00.000-07:00

Red snapper... ummm, very tasty.

2005-10-01T16:24:00.000-07:00

Sunset on our last night in Mili.

2005-10-01T16:23:00.000-07:00

Off of this little island is where I speared my first fish that got away. This is also where I came face to face with a small reef shark. The coral was like nothing I have ever seen before - absolutely incredible. And the hoards of parrot fish thought so too.

2005-10-01T16:21:00.000-07:00

Pandanus fruit. You pull one of those big pieces off and grind and twist between your teeth. The Marshallese say it makes a good tooth brush but it leaves a bunch of strings stuck in between your teeth. The flavor is bland but sweet, kind of like sugar cane.

2005-10-01T16:17:00.000-07:00

Dick gutting the rabbit fish so they won't go sour before they get sold. He pulls the bottom fins off with his teeth and then pulls the stomach out. The stomachs are then used for chum.

2005-10-01T16:16:00.000-07:00

rabbit fish that we caught net fishing

2005-10-01T16:14:00.000-07:00

A grouper

2005-10-01T16:13:00.000-07:00

strapped in and with a little help pulling in the marlin

2005-10-01T16:11:00.000-07:00

If the movie doesn't work, this grainy shot gives you an idea of how big and powerful the fish was

2005-10-01T16:09:00.000-07:00

I don't know if this will work but it's a movie of the marlin on the line

2005-10-01T16:08:00.001-07:00

My big fat yellowfin.

2005-10-01T16:08:00.000-07:00

A small rainbow runner but not bad for a first catch.

A Frames

2005-09-21T00:34:00.000-07:00

The last two days it's been solid A frames here at Co-op. Picture perfect peaks rolling in at 4:30 in the afternoon. The timing couldn't be more perfect. I've had my longboard out the last two days and have never had so much fun on it. I got inside on a few sections, but had the wave break on my head on just about every one. Still it's nothing like what I've ever surfed before. Perfect! And that's the surf news.

Our First Catastrophe

2005-09-16T15:02:00.000-07:00

Well I've made it through another week with the six and under crowd. Friday (yesterday) was my most pleasant day of teaching until just after lunch. First I should probably qualify what makes a great day of teaching. Seeing growth in students, watching them use their strategies to work through thier reading, having 3 groups seperate from my own group successfully managing themselves, having an extra volunteer in the classroom all day, making it out to recess and lunch on time, having leftovers in the fridge when I go home for a quick bite to eat all made Friday morning a great day of teaching. As we began our afternoon with a short game of Close to 20 before art, I hear kids outside my classroom screaming "Fire, Fire!" Even if they were joking, the score of a perfect 10 day was rapidly dropping. I walk outside to find the hospital across the street is engulfed in black smoke and flames. I tried to ignore it and told my kids to keep playing, nothing was happening but I could only keep the news at bay for so long. When I did tell them about 2 minutes later, they handled it pretty well. Or rather those whose parents didn't work at the hospital handeled it well. The rest were panicstricken. To compound the chaos of the situation, I had parents rushing to the school to pick up their kids. Had they just said "I'm here to pick up ____ " it would have been relatively calm, considering what was going on. What I didn't need was parents lining up at my door, and crying in desperate tones across the classroom in Marshallese that the fire was spreading and was going to burn down the school any minute (which was in no danger of happening). So much for keeping calm. So they all burst into tears and hysterics. I was so frustrated and incensed with the parents I actually said above their cries and whimper "Oh stop crying! The fire is NOT going to burn down the school!" And you know what? They did. Some even said after me, "Ya stop crying!" We cancelled school at about 1:30 in the afternoon after about half the parents had shown up to pick up thier kids. The rest I let play with legos and the marble roll that was left in my classroom. By the end of the day when the rest of the parents showed up, it was hard to get the kids to leave. That's a bit of an exaggeration, but you can imagine how enamoured these kids were with the thought of getting the afternoon to play in first grade. It was actually really fun just sitting thier watching them. In the end, all that was lost was the hospital's kitchen and supply room. In-patients were moved to the capitol building and then down to the Outrigger Hotel where, when you think about it, services are probably very similar to what where recieving in the hotel as far as clean sheets and food delivery. I doubt the hospital had room service for cocktails though. No one died (from the fire), no one was hurt. But all of the medicine on the island is a complete loss. THERE IS NO MEDICINE ON THE ISLAND. When I write it like that, it makes it sound pretty frightening. I don't know where they're going to get it from or how long it will take to get here. If any of you work in the medical field and have any ideas on overnighting a pharmacy to the Marshalls, please email me. In other news, I spent last night with some of the Fijian teachers drinking Kava. I had about 8 or 9 cups, my mouth went numb, and I have never slept so well in my life. Viva la Kava!

What's Been Going On

2005-09-07T23:57:00.000-07:00

Well the answer is not too much. We're making headway in school as you can see below. I'm surprised at how quickly these kids catch on to concepts in math. My daily schedule of my classroom has taken on a the shape of a McCarver day - a 2 hour (or so) reading block in the morning, a one hour (or so) math block in the afternoon. Does keeping to this schedule half way across the world entitle me to any of the reading or math grant money? The kids and I have been keeping healthy. About 2 weeks ago, the USS Boxer which is a Navy aircraft carrier, was in port. It was the biggest ship most of these folks had ever seen. The U.S. Boxer is resposible for dispensing medical aid around the world and on their way back to the U.S. they made a 3 day stop in Majuro. Apparently it was a community service project for getting kicked out of their last port, but that aside, they screened every kid at Co-op, did a very quick and dirty job of certifying any teacher who was interested in CPR and First Aid ("Here's what compound fracture looks like when it pokes through the skin.... cover it and get your victim some help"), and even did free dental and health screenings for the whole island. I got what was my first an will probably be my only tour of an aircraft carrier. I don't remember any of the details because the whole tour was given in code talk and acronyms. All in all, there were a lot of drunk sailors in Majuro that weekend. But now it's back to its quietness and that makes it a much nicer place to live. Take care folks. And McCarver people, how did the first week of school go?

2005-09-07T23:55:00.000-07:00

This is what a 10 looks like in "Close to 10."

2005-09-07T23:53:00.000-07:00

Singing some songs. I think our music teacher was leading us in "My Bonie Lies Over the Ocean."

2005-09-07T23:49:00.000-07:00

The whole lot of 'em. They just seem to go on for miles.

2005-09-07T23:45:00.000-07:00

A good shot of some Close to 10 action. Players (left to right) are Angella and Vinson.