Almost Paradise Pt 32 Changing Times

(15 Jan. 87) On the ocean side of Carlos I watched an old woman in a bright colored MuuMuu take some garbage to the beach. A little later another woman carried a plastic bag filled with empty cans and bottles to the beach on the lagoon side of the cemetery. It’s taken some time to build up this collection of garbage around the island. I once found a type of coke bottle here that hasn’t been produced for over thirty years.

Some of the young boys noticed me taking pictures near the cemetery and came over to mug for the camera. My Marshallese was understandable and a couple of the boys could speak a little English so we managed to communicate. They said they would soon be going to school on Ebeye by boat since the teacher quit.  Just south of the houses, off in the woods, I saw modern school desks scattered about in front of a small pink schoolhouse  with a sign that read, Carlos Elementary School Welcome. In the meantime, they are left alone.

There is something sad about the children on Carlos. And from what I have learned from other sources recently, many children throughout the Marshalls may be in the same situation. Within minutes after meeting the local boys, they gathered around me closely. A couple of the smaller boys held on to my pants leg. When I walked over to the bench near the pool, two boys curled up next to me, one on each side. They didn’t say anything but seemed to find comfort in my presence. I noticed that they displayed the same affection for other American adults who showed any interest in them.

With a few exceptions, the only adults I found with the kids were elderly Marshallese women. One morning I met another woman coming from the north village as she herded about a dozen children past the security building. All appeared to be under six years of age.

I asked my constable Thomas Ten about this and he said that most of the parents worked on Ebeye or Kwajalein.

The Marshall Islands Journal often publishes articles and editorials dealing with the pressures being exerted on Marshallese society by the modern world. One such pressure is caused by the migration of men and women to urban centers such as Majuro and Kwajalein in the hope of finding good paying jobs.

Their children are often left behind in the care of grandparents and other relatives. No one is around to give guidance, to pass on Marshallese traditions such as the many ways to catch seafood, or just to be there when a child needs some assurances that he or she is not alone. The islanders can’t return to the ways things were and the new culture, based on a money economy, is destroying a culture that developed over 4,000 years. Replacing the old for now are anxiety, alcohol, despair, violence and suicide.

2230 – The Sprint ferry brought the relief power plant operator because the waves on the lagoon were too rough for our patrol boat, the Q-260. The pilot, a rotund man, about thirty-five, and his crew of two tied up at the pier and waited for the other operator to come out.

One Eye walked over to the boat and stared at the crew. The pilot started howling and One Eye responded. The pilot continued and One Eye joined in again. The two of them harmonized for a minute. The dog was so involved in his part that when the boat operator quit, One Eye continued for a few seconds, then stopped and looked around in confusion. He walked around in a circle, looked at the crew again and walked away.