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Marshall Islands 2015
Stay Out of the Improvised Way
July 23, 2015
In the first days of the program, the students listen with a kind of quizzical, blank look.  When they stand to answer a question or introduce themselves—wait, strike that—IF they stand and IF they answer and IF you can hear them, the words are laced with embarrassed giggles and quick looks about the room to see who might be laughing at them.  The words tumble out as fast and briefly as possible so the pained individual can sit back down as quickly as possible to wishfully disappear from sight. All of this belies the pos
Art and Behavior Psychology
July 18, 2015
I flung the incentive out to our trainees.  If we could all stay focused on the task of the day—rehearsing all of our songs and short performances—we could finish the day early.  For me, this was an unprecedented incentive.  In fact, I am not sure that I’ve ever ended a day early out here, mostly because there are always challenges of some sort that get in the way.  But it seemed worth the attempt.  Afternoons, the stifling hot afternoons of 35 people simultaneously rehearsing in a wooden box with a tin roof, sun hammering away at us, feel brutal.  Focus
I Have an Idiom
July 13, 2015
I sat at the back of the tin-roofed community room, a stiflingly hot building in which we were conducting our youth-oriented training.
A Tale that Perspires
July 7, 2015
I resisted writing a follow-up to my last blog.  It ended as the electricity in my apartment, and mine alone, went out.  It made for a brutal night of a stiflingly hot sleep.  I was, at times, slick with sweat.  A bed soaked by my perspiration.  I would lay still and snooze long enough to ‘dry out’ for a period, but upon waking to gulp some badly need water, my body’s waterworks would begin again.  The morning ‘shower’ was a trickle of water that took time to fill a small tub so I could bucket bath it.  The heat, however, did not allow me to dry.  I left
I am, most decidedly, back
July 5, 2015
As I walked to the waiting area for my morning flight, I glanced into the gate area where I first left for the Marshall Islands in 1990.  Several memories flickered through my imagination. The tall Marshallese gentleman must have read some nervousness in my demeanor which prompted him to ask me if it was my first trip to Majuro.  When I confirmed his guess, we got to chatting about my reason for the visit. He was very encouraging about my journey, which helped relax me as I faced one of my first international adventures.