It Could Happen Here - It Could Happen Here Weekly 99
Episode Date: September 9, 2023All of this week's episodes of It Could Happen Here put together in one large file You can now listen to all Cool Zone Media shows, 100% ad-free through the Cooler Zone Media subscription, available e...xclusively on Apple Podcasts. So, open your Apple Podcasts app, search for “Cooler Zone Media” and subscribe today! http://apple.co/coolerzone See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
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You should probably keep your lights on for Nocturnal Tales from the Shadowbride.
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About 20 years ago, maybe 30, a circus visited Majuro,
the largest island on the Majuro Atoll and the capital city of the Marshall Islands.
They came to Majuro as almost everything that isn't breadfruit, pandanus or fish does on a boat.
After performing, they couldn't find a boat to take them to their next destination. And so the residents of this tiny island, which at times is
no wider than the single road which travels its whole length, decided that they'd have to share
the food that they themselves had imported at great cost. And they set about gathering apples,
bananas, and anything else that they thought an elephant might like to eat
while it waited for a way off an island that barely has enough room for its own people,
let alone the largest land animal on earth.
The people of the Marshall Islands, for whom hospitality is as natural as the tides of the sea,
greet each other the same way they do strangers, by saying yokeway.
The word has several meanings, but I'll let David Kabua explain them.
He's the president of the Republic of the Marshall Islands, so he seems like he'd be
a good source.
I would say the word yokwe, yokwe is our greeting word.
Yokwe has a lot of, several meanings.
And you can say, when you meet someone first time,
you say, yawe, when you greet someone.
And when you also say goodbye,
instead of say goodbye, you also yawe.
So you can use that also.
Like during the weekend, there was a tournament,
fishing tournament.
And if you were fishing and you caught a, you have a big fish on the weekend, there was a tournament, fishing tournament. And if you were fishing and you caught a,
you have a big fish on the line,
and you really,
you're about to land the fish, but the line snapped.
So what do you say?
You say, oh,
say, ya koi.
Not hello to the fish, but you just say ya koi,
because you lost the big catch.
So it can be used that way.
Like when you lose someone or someone passed away, you miss that person.
Yaku, so and so, he was here, but no one could hear, so you can say yaku.
So it has several meanings, but the deeper meaning of yaku is you are beautiful like
the rainbow. Ia means rainbow and kwe is you.
So we combine the two words.
You are rainbow.
You are beautiful as a rainbow.
On the map, the Marshall Islands look like the little dots
that appear in my photos of the beach at Majuro.
But unlike those little specks of dust
that manage to sneak their way onto my camera sensor,
the Marshall Islands belong here.
Here is a pretty vague term. The 29 coral atolls and five islands that allow 54,000 Marshallese to live on 182 square kilometers of land span an oceanic territory of 200,000 kilometers.
It's like you took a small American town and scattered it across an area one and a half times the size of Alaska.
Even though the RMI is 98% water, every inch of land is precious to the Marshallese,
whose matrilineal society ensures that land passes from mother to daughter
and ties families to the remote islands that make up the low-lying atolls of the Republic.
It was on one of the bigger chunks of land that I recorded
the music you heard a minute ago. Majuro is an atoll. That's a coral ring that encircles the
lagoon. And its biggest island is about 30 miles long, but often less than 100 yards wide. There's
one road that runs the length of it, and sometimes also spans the width of it. It's also home to about half the
RMI's population. The highest point on the atoll lies just three meters above sea level. If you
want to get higher than that then your only options are houses or palm trees. From the top of the fifth
floor of the Napa Auto Parts store, which also houses the UNDP and the Marshall Islands Olympic Committee. You can see the whole island.
For Marshallese people, these tiny pieces of paradise
that barely poke their heads out from the top of the ocean are everything.
Their land and their ties to it define them.
Without their place, they can't be themselves.
Even though many thousands of Marshallese live in the diaspora of the United States,
they still import handicrafts made from little shells on the outer islands Even though many thousands of Marshallese live in the diaspora of the United States,
they still import handicrafts made from little shells on the outer islands and coconut husks.
Many of them come back to the islands to retire.
But slowly, the ocean is taking those islands back.
Rising sea levels and more extreme tidal surges have placed this tiny Pacific nation on the front lines of climate change. There isn't an exact estimate as to how long the Marshall Islands have,
or what they can do to halt the creeping advance of the ocean. They've always existed on just a
few square kilometres of land, among millions of square kilometres of ocean, and they depend on
that ocean for everything, but now it's threatening to take everything away from them.
One day, they fear their islands will become uninhabitable, as saltwater invades the water
table and their trees die, or storms bring more and more frequent floods that sweep away their
homes and their possessions. They don't want to leave, but they can't stand alone against
climate change either. But the Marshallese were resilient people. They've weathered many storms
to get to where they are now. The tiny museum in Majuro hosts artifacts of several crises that
would seem apocalyptic. A nuclear bomb, the Second World War. But in the end, these did
little to crush the incredible kindness of the tenacity of the Marshallese.
The islands that make up the Aramai have been inhabited by indigenous people for thousands
of years, and they have been variously ruled by the Spanish, German, Japanese, and United
States governments before becoming an independent republic.
Before they were named by a British sailor, the islands had their own name.
Alet Jeff, a Marshallese Renaissance man who was at once our driver,
the head of the World Health Organization's EMT program on the islands,
a registered nurse, and the custodian of an incredible collection of Marshallese music,
explain what they were called before that.
Before we used to call it lolly, lolly, lolly.
Before it used to call it Lolli Lolli. Like L-O-L-L-O-L-L-A-P-L-A-P.
That's before it turns into Marshall.
Because this word Marshall came from this guy that found these islands, Captain Marshall.
Undeniably, the Marshall Islands are not a bad place to find yourself on a summer afternoon.
And in the time I spent there, I took several trips to the smaller islands around Maduro Atoll.
They look like the platonic ideal of a tropical island, complete with coconut palms, vibrant coral reefs, white sand and turquoise water.
I love freediving, and dropping down onto a wrecked aircraft and dozens of brightly coloured species of fish in almost infinite visibility,
without even needing to put on a wetsuit or a weight belt, might be the closest I'll ever get to flying.
But I wasn't just here for a dip in the ocean.
I'm actually here to tell you a story of incredible resilience.
Much of America, both on the left and on the right, spends much of its time and money preparing
for its own imagined version of a crisis. For some, that's the unimaginable destruction of
nuclear war. For others, it's the encroaching of the ocean onto their land and the resulting
loss of places to live and grow food. And for others, it's the collapse of basic services like power
and clean water that we take for granted. These are all storms that the tiny island nation has
already weathered. And it hasn't done so in the atomized and individualistic way that so many
American preppers fantasize about online. It's done so as an incredibly strong, optimistic
and welcoming community. There's a lot we can learn from the people of the Marshall Islands
and their story. And so this week I'll be doing my best to share the stories that they shared with me.
If you're familiar with the islands, it's likely because of the history of one of the
other atolls in the group, Bikini Atoll.
The name is a German bastardisation of a Marshallese word, pikini.
Pik meaning plain surface, and ni meaning coconut tree.
It's a flat base where coconuts grow.
But you likely don't know the island for its coconuts, and those aren't safe to eat
anymore anyway.
If you've heard of Bikini Atoll, it's because of what the United States did there after the Second World War. On the 18th of July 1947, the Marshall Islands were placed in a strategic
trust territory by the United Nations. This territory was administered by the United States,
which was supposed to administer the islands in the best interest of their inhabitants
and of international peace and security. But a year before the Trust Territory was created,
the US began nuclear testing in the lagoon at Bikini Atoll, a site that would, over the next
15 years, become the most heavily bombed place on earth, with some islands entirely removed from the
map, and much of their population left dead, sick, and without
the land that defines them and their ability to thrive on these tiny islands amidst the endless
ocean. As far as possible, I want to let the Marshallese survivors of the nuclear tests,
and their families, tell their own stories. They call what happened on Bikini and Enewatak Atoll
the nuclear legacy of their country. Talking about the nuclear
legacy is a difficult topic for the Marshallese, especially at a time when none of them have been
paid the compensation they were allotted, and the US was negotiating a new agreement with the
Marshallese government that was very far from settled, and the numbers the US were offering
were very far from sufficient. I was very fortunate to join a few other journalists on the tiny island of Bokenboten, a short boat ride away from Marjorie, and home to perhaps the
most beautiful coral reef I've ever seen. We had lunch, walked around the island, and then had a
talk on the nuclear legacy from descendants of some of the survivors. I'll let them introduce themselves. My name is Chaka Bekidion. I'm from the Marshall Island.
I am a student at CMI, College of the Marshall Island,
and I am currently the president for the CMI Nuclear Club,
which we mostly work under National Nuclear Commission
with our director, Mary Silk,
and our commissioner, Ariana Tivon.
Alright, once again, my name is Ariana Tivon Kiluma.
I work as a commissioner and nuclear justice envoy for the RMI National Nuclear Commission.
Once again, thank you very much for having us this afternoon.
Welcome to Marshall Island.
My name is Evelyn Ralfo.
I'm the Director for Education and Public Awareness.
Once again, welcome.
Enjoy the rest of your days here.
My name is Cinsurlene Pernet.
I work with the National Nuclear Commission as a Hatman and Physical Officer.
I'm not sure if it's necessary for me to come, but since the boss said we all go, with the National Nuclear Commission as an admin and physical officer.
I'm not sure if it's necessary for me to come, but since the boss said we all go,
so let's go. You support the boss to go work on the same boat.
Welcome to the Marshall Islands.
She's from Mediato.
She's from Mediato.
And she's from Mediato.
Yeah.
The three of us are all descendants of nuclear survivors.
They were exposed to fallout.
Her mother was exposed to fallout.
Her mother, Grace's mother, was also exposed to the radioactive fallout,
as well as my great-grandfather.
I think that's what really drives us to share this with you.
Almost everyone in the RMI has a family member directly impacted by the testing
and the decades of mistreatment that came after it.
Although we know the name Bikini Atoll,
the entire republic was impacted by nuclear fallout,
including Majuro itself,
thanks to the ill-advised decision to drop bombs on a day
when the populated atolls were downwind of the test site.
In fact, right next to our hotel and showing the same parking lot,
there's a US Department of Energy office.
I asked Jeff what that was doing there.
Yeah, I saw there's a DOE office, like health office,
in the street here.
The one next to the hotel,
that's the office where they do the radiation testing.
And there's one near the AMI, Air Marshall.
That's the clinic for those survivors.
Now the survivors, there's few of them left.
Like, maybe less than 50.
The RMI saw fighting in the Second World War.
It's memorialized in murals across Majuro.
It's memorialized in murals across Majuro.
In 1943 and early 1944, the USA bombed and then fought the Imperial Japanese military,
who had been occupying the island since 1914.
US soldiers and marines, along with Marshallese scouts,
landed on Majuro, Kwajalein, and Eniwetok on Higgins boats that were virtually identical to the boat we took
across the lagoon to Bochumboeton. The fighting was fierce, and the scale of the destruction was
immense. Overall, the Americans lost 611 men and suffered 2,341 wounded. 261 were missing.
Meanwhile, the Japanese lost over 11,000 men and had 358 captured.
Today, the Bikini Atoll Lagoon still holds the ghostly remains of the ships and planes
that fought that battle, alongside the Nagato, the flagship of the Imperial Japanese Navy,
and the ship from whose bridge Admiral Yamamoto launched the attack on Pearl Harbor.
and the ship from whose bridge Admiral Yamamoto launched the attack on Pearl Harbor.
It was a shadow of this war that was evoked in 1946, when 167 of Bikini Atoll's inhabitants were forcibly relocated by the United States. They initially accepted this settlement,
quote, for the good of mankind and to end all wars, in the words of the US commandant at the time.
to end all wars, in the words of the US Commandant at the time. Assisted by US Navy Seabees,
they disassembled their church and moved to different atolls. Nine of the 11 family heads from Bikini elected to be transported 125 miles to Rongerik Atoll, an island with about one quarter
of the landmass of Bikini Atoll. Many believed the island to be haunted,
and by the time the Navy left them with a few weeks of water and food,
they had every reason to be afraid.
I'll let Arianna explain what that removal process was like.
They had asked the people if they were willing to give up their homelands for the good of mankind and to end all wars.
And because our people are people of faith in Christianity,
and they were very afraid, they did not want to leave.
But because of the amount of power that the military showed up with,
with their big ships compared to our small canoes,
and the amount of troops that were on that island on that morning,
it was very hard for them to, you know, fight against what was being, you know, asked of them.
And if you have time to look through documentaries of the nuclear legacy, you will see a certain
part where the commander, a commodoreore his name was ben wyatt he
was sitting down and asking the chief at that time can we use this island for the good of mankind
and in response the people all respond in unison which means okay and from their testimonies they
had to take that um shot over 40 times to make sure that, you know, they all said
M1 at the same time to get the best shot they could for, you know, maybe for reports to the UN.
But it was a very frustrating time for them. Following their removal, the testing began.
The idea was to test nuclear bombs on ships. so the US bought 95 ships, fully loaded with weapons and fuel.
At this time, this would have ranked the navy of Bikini Atoll just outside the top five biggest fleets in the world.
But those boats didn't stay afloat for long.
Now, you might think that, given the testing was on ships, the Atooll's navy would be some kind of mid-century Mary Celeste.
But you'd be wrong.
3,350 experimental rats, goats and pigs
died in the service of this strange nuclear experiment.
Some of them after being subjected to the great indignity
of being covered in sunscreen,
which bizarrely scientists thought might be useful
in alleviating
the impact of radiation. It's rather staggering that this research was being done three years
after the United States dropped nuclear bombs on whole cities full of human beings.
But as you've maybe already picked up in this story, the possibility of unintended but entirely
predictable human suffering does not seem to have been top of the priority list.
unintended but entirely predictable human suffering does not seem to have been top of the priority list. The first test at the island somehow misfired. The gathered press were
disappointed and many of them went home. But the second, codenamed Baker, didn't.
Chemist Glenn T. Seaborg, the longest-serving chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission,
called the Baker test the world's first nuclear disaster. It drove a 2,000
foot wide pillar of water into the air. It sunk the USS Arkansas and released massive amounts of
radiation across the islands of the atoll, which at the time the residents had been expecting to
return to. Just five days after the first bomb went off, Louis Royard, a French mechanical engineer
who was working as manager of his mother's lingerie shop in Paris,
introduced a new swimsuit design,
named the Bikini, after the Atoll.
It was, one writer quipped,
the atom bomb of fashion.
The people of the Atoll, however,
gained little from the outfit or the testing.
In January of 1948, just two years after their removal,
Dr. Leonard Mason visited the Bikinians on Rongerik
and was appalled to find the people there had almost starved to death.
We were dying, but they didn't listen to us, one of them said to him.
Mason, an anthropologist at the University of Hawaii,
asked that food and water be bought immediately.
The US built houses for Bikini Atoll residents on Ujalan Atoll,
but it decided to use these for the residents of Enewatak Atoll,
where it was also about to begin conducting nuclear experiments.
Instead, the Bikini Islanders were placed in tents alongside a runway before
they eventually chose Kili Island, a land of less than one square kilometre, as their
next home.
Also evacuated were Enewatak, Rongalap and Wathau Islanders. They too thought this was
a temporary arrangement and that they could go home in a short period of time. They too thought this was a temporary arrangement, and that they could go home in a short period of time.
They too found out later that this was not the case.
Over the course of their exile, they had been moved several more times, starved half to death, cheated of their compensation, and stripped of their ancestral homeland. For the next 12 years, the United States would drop increasingly large bombs, culminating in 1954 with the Bravo shot of Operation Castle,
also known as Castle Bravo,
the biggest nuclear device that we know of the US ever deploying.
Within those 12 years, there were 67 known devices that were tested here.
There could have been more, but all we know of is 67.
One of them was the Castle Bravo shot that yielded 15 megatons,
which when scientists calculated, the equivalent of the Bravo shot would have required testing the
Hiroshima bomb one and a half times every single day for 12 years. That 15 megaton Bravo shot yielded more than 2.5 times the estimated 6
megaton explosion when it was detonated on an artificial island in the Bikini Atoll.
The device's mushroom cloud reached a height of 47,000 feet, which is 1,400 meters,
and a diameter of 7 miles or 11 kilometers in about one minute. Eventually, it reached a height of 40
kilometers and a diameter of 100 kilometers. This took less than 10 minutes. It traveled more than
100 meters per second and covered 7,000 kilometers of the Pacific Ocean and everything in it with
nuclear fallout. On the eve of the Bravo shot, weather reports indicated that the quote conditions were getting
less favourable, but nonetheless the decision to go ahead with the first test was taken
by Dr Alvin C. Graves. Joint Task Force 7 ships, located 30 miles east of Bikini in
what was thought to be an upwind position, began detecting high levels of radiation just two hours after the test.
Very soon after, they began traveling south at full speed to avoid the fallout.
But directly downwind of the blast and unable to travel were Rongelap and Alinganay atolls.
Ariano explained the impact of the fallout there, which residents were not warned about.
American service people there were warned to stay inside, not eat or drink anything. But no such warning was given to the local residents.
Some said it looked like the sky was changing colors from red to yellow to orange. It was just
a very, very bright morning. And then they started hearing like thunderous roars a couple minutes
later. And it was just like roars after roars.
And it was a very frightening time because this was just not something, you know, does not happen every day.
And then around 10 a.m., the fallout had started to arrive.
And these are accounts from Rongelap Atoll, which is the closest to Bikini.
The fallout had started to arrive and they were not sure what was going on.
There was men out fishing.
There was also stories from these witnesses
that prior to this test,
the military had gone to Rongelap
and they had movie nights
and they would show the community movies
where it's snowing.
Tomorrow, we'll hear more about the consequences of the Bravo shot for the people who,
despite never having any quarrel with the USA,
were the recipients of the largest nuclear bomb it's ever detonated. Welcome. I'm Danny Thrill.
Won't you join me at the fire and dare enter
Nocturnal Tales from the Shadows
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Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas,
the host of a brand new Black Effect original series,
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the podcast for diving deep
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Blacklit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers
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Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app,
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Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast,
and we're kicking off our second season
digging into how tech's elite
has turned Silicon Valley into a playground for billionaires.
From the chaotic world of generative AI
to the destruction of Google search,
Better Offline is your unvarnished
and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech
from an industry veteran with nothing to lose.
This season, I'm going to be joined by everyone from Nobel winning economists to leading journalists in the field and I'll be
digging into why the products you love keep getting worse and naming and shaming those responsible.
Don't get me wrong though, I love technology. I just hate the people in charge and want them to
get back to building things that actually do things to help real people. I swear to god things
can change if
we're loud enough. So join me every week to understand what's happening in the tech industry
and what could be done to make things better. Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app,
Apple Podcasts, wherever else you get your podcasts. Check out betteroffline.com. The The music you just heard was the anthem of Bikini Atoll,
sung at their church on Kili Island in 1997.
The words translate as follows.
No longer can I stay, it's true.
No longer can I live in peace and harmony.
No longer can I rest on my sleeping mat and pillow,
because of my island and the life I once knew there.
The thought is overwhelming, rendering me helpless and in great despair.
My spirit leaves, drifting around and far away,
where it becomes caught in a current of immense power,
and only then do I find tranquility.
Bikini Atoll has a flag as well. It looks a lot like the US flag, but in the top left blue
rectangle, you'll only find 23 white stars. They represent the islands of Bikini Atoll.
The three black stars on the upper right of the flag represent the three islands that were
vaporized by the March 1st, 1954,-megaton hydrogen bomb blast codenamed Bravo.
The two black stars in the lower right hand corner represent where the Bikinians live
now, Kili Island, 425 miles to the south of Bikini Atoll, and Egypt Island on the Majuro
Atoll.
These two stars are symbolically far away from bikini stars on
the flag as the islands are far away in real life, both in distance and in terms of quality of life.
The Marshallese words running across the bottom of the flag,
Men, Otemjej, Rejilo, Ben Anij, translate to, everything is in the hands of God. These represent the words spoken in 1946 by the
Bikinian leader, Judah, to the US Commodore, Ben Wyatt, when the American went to Bikini to ask
the islanders, on a Sunday after they'd just been to church, to give up their islands for the good
of all mankind, so the US could test nuclear weapons there. The close resemblance of the
Bikinian's flag to the flag of the United States is to remind
the people and the government of the USA that a great debt is still owed by them to the
people of Bikini.
In today's episode, I want to pick up where we left off yesterday, in the hours after
the Bravo shot.
Here's Ariana again.
And so when that fallout had arrived, the children, you know, they remember that they saw it in these movie nights.
They thought it was snow and they were playing in this fallout.
And then later on that day, they started to realize that this was maybe poisonous.
They just were not sure.
But by midnight that night, the people were not able to move around as much. They were suffering dramatically. Their stomachs were churning. Their hair had started to fall out. Their skin was peeling off. And like they said, it was so itchy. And when they would scratch, the skin just peels off as they scratch. And the fish that the men were out fishing for,
when they had came back that evening to eat, when they ate the fish, they said it was like
they were just munching on sand. John Ajean, the mayor of Rongelapatole,
gave an interview in 1977, recounting his experience with the fallout.
It fell on me. It fell on my wife. It fell on my infant son. It fell on the trees
and on the roofs of our houses. It fell onto the reefs and into the lagoon. We were very curious
about this ash falling from the sky. Some people put it in their mouths and tasted it. One man
rubbed it into his eye to see if it would cure an old ailment. People walked in it, and children played
in it. Later, people on Utrecht Atoll experienced the fallout as mist. Mimic Kel, one resident of
the Atoll, said that, quote, several of my babies, who were healthy at the time they were born,
died before they were a year old. Altogether, I lost four babies. My son Winton was born one year after the bomb,
and he has had two operations on his throat for thyroid cancer.
The Japanese fishing boat Lucky Dragon No. 5 also came into direct contact with the fallout,
which began raining down on them that same morning.
They'd been fishing outside the designated danger zone that the US government had declared in advance,
but when radioactive dust began to fall on them, they scrambled to leave.
Pulling their gear took nearly six hours, during which time they were covered in the dust
and gathered some of it in bags to take home and determine what this dust was.
Later in the day, they began to get sick as they headed home.
One member of the crew kept a bag of the ash to have it analyzed on their return home,
but he hung it from his bunk bed, causing the crew to get continued exposure all the way home.
It took them two weeks to get back to Japan,
and doctors quickly determined the cause of their blisters, sickness, and hair loss.
They asked the U.S. Atomic Energy Committee for information on how to treat the fishermen.
Instead, the U.S. sent two scientists to observe them.
One of the fishermen died, and the others were sent home after 14 months in hospital.
They faced stigma in public, and most of them eventually died from liver cirrhosis or cancer.
36 hours after the test, United States servicemen were evacuated from Rongelap.
54 hours afterwards, the people of Rongelap Atoll were evacuated.
And 78 hours after the fallout hit them, less than half of Utrecht's 400 people were eventually evacuated.
Here's Ariana again, recounting the story of one of those Rongelap residents.
And so they were evacuated on March 4th, 1954.
And upon evacuation, the community was ordered to strip down naked on the ships.
They did not separate the males from the females.
The entire community stood naked on the ship and they were hosed down with a pressure washer.
When you talk stories with them today, they recall it as, you know, they say, you know, the hose was so strong, it felt like those hoses that they used to put out fires.
put out fires. And after they were pressure washed, they were given a soldier's underwear and t-shirt to wear for their journey to Kwajalein Atoll. And for the bigger women that were a part
of this group that could not fit these soldiers' underwears and t-shirts, they were given just a
small towel to cover while they were journeying to Kwajalein. And also from these
testimonies, one of my neighbors, she was seven years old at that time, and she said, you know,
she's just a kid. And when everybody was standing naked and she saw her uncles and she thought it
was funny at that time, but she realized later that that was such a breach of privacy and a moment of humiliation. And she recalls her
grandmother's skin falling off. And she said, it looked like we all were like in a burning house
and everybody had these scars on like just the peel burning off. And but at that time, she did
not really realize it. She did not have a lot of burns. She's still alive today, but she did not have
a lot of burns because when the bomb was detonated, she was told to go inside her house.
And so she had a little bit of protection. They were taken to Kwajalein Naval Base,
where things became even worse for them. A week after the test, the Atomic Energy Commission and
the U.S. Department of Defense sent a joint medical team to Kwajalein,
and these doctors drafted a memo stating that the exposed people should have, quote,
no exposure for the rest of their natural lives.
111 traditional Marshallese leaders petitioned the United Nations to be more cautious with testing
and to stop it entirely if at all possible.
The UN decided to continue, but with added precautions.
It urged but did not compel the US government to compensate the Marshallese people.
In fact, the United States was only beginning the damage it would do to the people of the
Marshall Islands, and compensation would not come for another three decades.
I'll let Arianna explain what actually happened next.
let Arianna explain what actually happened next. On March 9th, 1954, the Project 4.1 scientists arrived. And then on March 11th, 1954, the Project 4.1 officially commenced without consent from the
people. And this Project 4.1 was the study of radiation on human beings. And if you look at
declassified files, we have a lot of them at the
College of the Marshall Islands Nuclear Institute. There's, you know, all different types of projects.
And for example, like one project 2.3 could be the study of radiation on corals. And then,
you know, 7.2 is study of radiation on the trees. And 4.1 just so happened to be the study of radiation on the trees and 4.1 just so happened to be the study of radiation on human
beings and when they were in Kwajalein they were there for a couple days they were ordered to bathe
in the lagoon in salt water and scrub their burns three times a day every single day also they were
ordered to provide urine samples three times a day they also had to provide urine samples three times a day. They also had to give blood samples three times a day.
And this went on for the people of Woodrook.
It was three months.
And for the people of Ronglap, it was almost a year.
And then they were moved here to one of the small islands here where they lived and waited for their home to be cleaned up for them to return.
their home to be cleaned up for them to return. And the thing is, while they were taking these blood and urine samples and having them bathe in the lagoon and scrubbing their burns in salt water
three times a day, they all had clinical numbers. And so even the pregnant women, their babies in
their wombs also were assigned a clinical number because even if there was still a baby,
they were already monitoring these babies.
And the thing is, even with their hair falling off
and their skin peeling off
and their fingernails turning black
and just feeling very nauseous and having a severe headache.
They were not given pain medication.
They were not given any type of Tylenol or any of that.
They were just being monitored.
And this whole time, they thought they were being treated.
They didn't realize that they were a part of this project
that was just there to study how their body reacts to exposure to radiation.
Three years after being evacuated, the people of Rongelap were allowed to return.
And then they moved them back in 1957 because the bomb that they were exposed to was in 1954.
And they were there for 28 years.
This wasn't a benevolent effort.
It was a continuation of the USA's use of the people of the Republic of Marshall Islands
as subjects of experimentation.
Later on, when they were going to move the people of Rongelap back to Rongelap,
what they wanted to study now was how radiation evolves in the food chain.
Because when they had moved them back to Rongelap, this was the original exposed group.
When they went back, it was not just the exposed group anymore because they were here for three years.
And they took their family members that were on Majuro and some of them got married.
And so when they went back back there was 400 of them and
I always switch up which group was given a green card and a red card but like if it was a red card
they were the exposed group and the green card was now the new control group that was going to
eat the crops on the land and eat off of the land to see how the radiation has moved in the food chain. And that's when my mother's father was born on Rongelap in 1959.
Eventually, the people of Rongelap were evacuated in 1985 thanks to Greenpeace,
who moved them to other atolls when the US government refused to help them or acknowledge responsibility.
It was not just the people on Rongelap and the other atolls at the time who were impacted by the radiation.
The consequences have lasted for generations.
And also, we've had many cases of birth defects or babies that were born and according
to the testimonies of these mothers that had had given birth their babies were born
sometimes looking like jellyfish sometimes their babies were born without
a head without limbs all they could see was the heart beating and the blood
flowing through their veins and their intestines and they just were not sure
whether they should bury this this baby when the heart is still beating or if they should wait for the heart to stop beating.
And some mothers had told their stories of giving birth to babies that they recalled looking like octopus.
Some mothers recalled their babies looking like turtles.
recalled their babies looking like turtles. Some of them, on many occasions, they also had babies that were born looking like grapes, the fruit. It just looked like a bunch of grapes
lumped together. And for many of these cases, these women were not speaking up at that time
because what they were told by the Atomic Energy Commission's officials was that
this is the result of incest. And so it was a very humiliating experience. Many of these women
had no idea that their own sisters were also giving birth to these monster-looking babies
that they were giving birth to. And they would oftentimes bury their
babies alone where nobody else was watching. And it's a worldwide culture that when someone
passes away, we all gather to mourn this loved one. But for the women, the Marshallese women at
that time, it was a very heartbreaking moment for them because they did not want anybody else to see this baby that
they had given birth to, not realizing that their own sister was also enduring the same fate.
Things were not much better for the Bikinians, who'd been evacuated at the start of testing in 1946.
After a failed attempt to settle them on another atoll,
many of the Bikinians elected to try living on Kili as their new home.
Kili Island lacked a coral reef,
and this made their traditional lifestyle of island hopping and fishing in the calm lagoon impossible.
The Bikinians,
inhabitants of the most remote atoll in the already remote Marshall Islands,
were legendary for their ability to navigate using the stars and seas.
But on their new island, the waves were so big that their traditional canoes couldn't sail at all.
Soon, the boat the USA had given them to import food had sunk into the ferocious seas around the island,
and they were entirely reliant on airdropped food.
Some families moved to other islands or split their time between Kili
and the atolls with better resources. But life on Kili was hard, and the lack of protected lagoon
made every delivery of food or supplies by boat a high-risk endeavor. Along with the loss of their
homeland, many generations of Bikinians began to lose their navigation skills and their connection
to the lagoon that provided so much sustenance and material for their traditional lifestyle.
They had suffered severe starvation because for the people of Bikini,
the atoll that they were now living in was just uninhabited in the first place because all the fish around the atoll are cicatera fish, so they could not eat off the ocean.
They could not grow any crops.
And are you guys familiar with what anoni fruit
is? Anoni tree? And it does not smell good, right? But they started eating the anoni fruit
because they did not have any breadfruit or papayas or anything growing on that land. And
the men oftentimes had to sail out in their canoes and they would be gone for almost a week because they sailed out as far as they could to be able to get fish that
was edible for them. And then for the people of Enewedok from their
testimonies, the atoll that they were evacuated to was rat infested and so
their babies had to sleep in boxes. They had to build like boxes for their babies
otherwise the rats would come and nibble
at their toes while they're sleeping. And there was a lot of ways that they were trying to figure
out how to solve this rat infestation. And at one time they were giving people incentives,
like I think it was five cents if you brought a rat's tail or something, you know, like because
they were just trying to get rid of the rats and they could not and yeah it's just a lot of trauma and a lot of moving
around when the people of Bikini were first moved from Bikini to this new home
of Rongerik Atoll where they lived for the next two years by the time the
military had gone back to pick them up.
He's a very elderly man now, but he was six years old at that time.
And the way he describes it is that he says it was a very traumatizing moment for him because they were carrying some of the people on leaves to the ship.
They were very fragile.
He said, if you have seen photos of the Holocaust,
this is what our people looked like because there was just severe starvation at that time.
In 1968, LBJ promised the Bikinians a chance to return to their beloved home,
and the U.S. Trust Territory began rebuilding the structures and decontaminating the soil.
These efforts were hampered by infrequent
flights and delayed by the discovery that the large coconut crabs on the island were still
dangerously contaminated. In 1972, 100 people from three extended families moved back and began
rebuilding their paradise, but it wasn't long before it became clear that their home was far
from recovered. A visiting team of scientists
from France, not the USA, found dangerously high levels of radioactivity in fruit, well water,
and in the urine samples of islanders. The islanders had sued the federal government,
and more research was done. By 1978, scientists had found an 11-fold increase in the cesium-137
body burdens of the people living on
the islands, a level which the Department of the Interior called, quote, incredible.
Once again, the islanders were removed from their home. In 1983, the Republic of the Marshall
Islands gained its independence and signed the Compact of Free Association with the United States.
When the Compact came into effect in 1986,
the Marshallese received their first financial settlement from the USA, courtesy of section 177 of the Compact of Free Association, which pledged reparations for damages to the former inhabitants
of Bikini, Enewatap, Rongelap, and Utrecht Atolls. They were promised a 12% rate of return on the
trust fund, which would be administered by the US and would provide healthcare and property damage reimbursements.
However, this fund relied upon the fiction that only four atolls were impacted by the nuclear fallout.
There is considerable evidence to suggest that the entire Republic of the Marshall Islands was directly impacted by fallout from the Bravo shot.
The trust fund also tied the interests of
the Marshallese to those of global capital. As the value of the fund's investments went up,
so did their ability to fund healthcare and improve their living conditions.
But I found financial reports from that trust fund in 2016. At the time, it had funds invested
in US domestic public equities, 29.5% of the portfolio as of September
30th, 2015. International equities made up 27.4%. Fixed income funds made up 18%. Real estate made
up 5.5%. Hedge fund made up 15%. And a private equity fund made up the remaining 4.6%.
But the interests of a low-lying atoll nation
and those of global capital will never really be fully aligned. The only reason hedge funds
could offer such astronomical returns for their investors is that they are comprised of businesses
who don't pay the full cost for their production. This is nowhere more obvious than the rapidly
shrinking atolls of the Marshall Islands, where the rising sea levels driven by the need to ensure rising stock prices are posing a new
threat to the people who endured and survived the largest nuclear bomb the US is ever known
to have deployed. In 1987, a stock market collapse known as Black Monday reduced the value of the
fund. And even to this day, despite other settlements and agreements, not one single
person in the Marshall Islands has received the full amount of compensation that they were
allocated. A great many have received less than half. In 1995, the Island Council learned that
the Environmental Protection Agency standard for radiation reduction requirements was a lot lower
than those that the Department of Energy scientists had been using thus far. 15 millirems as opposed to 100 millirems. Between this and the demand on settlement funds
for services that would lift the surviving islanders and their families out of poverty,
the cleanup of Bikini Atoll began to lose steam. Today, 600 people still live on Kili,
subsisting largely on a US settlement fund. Their children,
like many other Marshallese, go to boarding schools and other atolls. But they still can't
sail their canoes at home. Other Bikinians live on one of the islands or Majuro Atoll,
but with no matrilineal ties to their land, they don't have access to that which defines
them in their culture. Despite being so isolated that the government thought it could safely nuke
the island without damaging the mainland, or really anywhere it cared about,
the island's trust fund is still privy to the rising and falling of the stock market,
and it took a significant hit in 2008. In 2017, Trump's Department of the Interior
allowed Bikini's mayor and council to supervise the use of the fund in order to, quote,
restore trust and ensure that sovereignty means something. When turned over, the fund was valued
at 59 million US dollars. Today, it holds a little more than 100,000 US dollars.
The island's mayor, Anderson Jivas, oversaw the fund at the time of its depletion and has admitted
to claiming personal expenses from the fund and spending six-figure sums on his trip to the USA. He's also made more
popular purchases, like a small aircraft and two cargo ships to help supply the more isolated
Bikinians, as well as construction equipment to build seawalls to protect the islanders against
another crisis, rising sea levels, which threatens to swallow their whole country in a few decades.
rising sea levels, which threatens to swallow their whole country in a few decades.
Sadly, this spending has left the fund virtually empty, and the checks Bikinians got,
which amounted to about $80 per person per month, have stopped coming.
These stipends help feed Bikinians and pay for medical care, and without them things are even harder. Today, a few caretakers live on Bikini Atoll, and you can visit to scuba dive.
But the community that once existed there is gone.
Edward Madison, one of those caretakers, was grandson of one of the residents removed in 1946.
Madison helped lead dives in the islands, tested cleanup methods,
and monitored the pollutants for the U.S. Department of Energy,
as well as mapping the lagoon's World War II wrecks.
He passed away on March 29th, 2020.
On any Watak Atoll, the cleanup will never happen,
even after it ended nuclear testing.
The US tested conventional and biological weapons there.
It shot missiles from California at the atoll
and tested airborne bioweapons.
From 1977 to 1980,
the US began scraping radioactive topsoil off the various islands
it had tested for both nuclear and biological weapons
and transporting that waste,
along with some waste from Nevada, to Runnet Island.
Once on Runnet, the waste, along with some waste from Nevada, to Runnit Island. Once on Runnit, the waste was mixed with concrete
and secured in a giant concrete
dome. Jeff's family is from
that island, but thanks to levels of radiation
which rival Fukushima and Chernobyl,
he can't go back.
My grandfather is from this island.
Oh wow.
But I've never
been to that island.
Is that where you're like did his his father live there and like his whole
did they live there for a long time your family before yeah yeah that's your traditional do you
want to go uh i'm not gonna go guys the dome. Yeah. Like all the people from that island, they get to test their radiation level.
Today, thanks to the other extinction-level threat the U.S. has helped create,
climate change, the dome is slowly sinking and cracking.
Hundreds of U.S. servicemen developed cancer building the dome.
Six died, and many others have struggled to get full VA benefits.
As the ocean rises, the concrete cap could simply slide off the dome and the 33 Olympic
swimming pools worth of nuclear and biological waste could flood out into the ocean.
Locally, this dome is called the tomb.
On the 5th of March 2001, the Nuclear Claims Tribunal handed down a decision on a seven-year lawsuit
that the Bikinians had bought against the United States for damages done to their islands and their people
during the nuclear testing on Bikini.
The tribunal was created by the Compact of Free Association and it always had been underfunded.
The settlement and the $563 million it awarded stood in limbo as the islanders sued the federal
government for it. On the day we left Majuro, the Republic of Marshall Islands negotiations
with the USA over the renewal of the Compact of Free Association had gone on until two in the
morning, Marshallese time. We ate breakfast that day with Hilda Hine, the first woman to be president
of the Marshall Islands and the first woman president in the Pacific.
I didn't get great audio there but she shared with us the ongoing struggle
that the Marshallese people have had
to secure adequate and fair compensation.
With the US offering 700 million
and the calculated costs of healthcare and cleanup
closer to 3 billion
there is a long way for the US to come
to make the islanders whole.
They also,
even six decades on, haven't apologized to the people who had no quarrel with them and whose homes and lives they destroyed. The case of the people of the Pacific Proving Grounds illustrates
rather well how we can't find financial settlements that are going to offset the kind of disasters
that climate change is bringing.
This doesn't mean that people who are harmed shouldn't be compensated,
but it does mean that no amount of cash can right the wrongs done.
This is why I wanted to anchor this series, which is about the future, with a story about the past.
Because in the next couple of episodes, we're going to hear a lot about what might happen to the Marshall Islands, and again, how virtually none of it is the fault of the islanders.
That doesn't mean we shouldn't accept their leadership on these issues, though.
As we saw at the negotiations that led to the Paris Accords, the Marshall Islands can and should
take a place at the heart of global discussions about climate change, because they are the ones
most impacted by the constant growth neoliberal model that makes
other people pay for its negative externalities. As we will learn in the next few episodes,
we should ask the people impacted how they want to be helped, and not tell them what they need.
I want to end today's episode with a poem, and a very Marshallese moment. I tried to meet the poet
who wrote this when I was on the island because
I remembered the impact of her poetry at the UN climate summit. She was off island while I was
there, but it turned out that Hilda Hine, the former president who I was having breakfast with,
was her mum. Here's Kathy Gentle-Kidgeno reading a poem she wrote for her own daughter
to the United Nations. Dear Mata Felebenum, you are a seven-month-old sunrise of gummy smiles.
You are bald as an egg and bald as the Buddha.
You are thighs that are thunder, shrieks that are lightning, so excited for bananas, hugs,
and our morning walks along the lagoon.
Dear Mata Felebenum, I want to tell you about that lagoon. Dear Mata Feli Beinu, I want to tell you about that lagoon,
that lazy lounging lagoon
lounging against the sunrise.
Men say that one day
that lagoon will devour you.
They say it will gnaw at the shoreline,
chew at the roots of your breadfruit trees,
gulp down rows of sea walls
and crunch through your island's shattered bones.
They say you, your daughter, and your granddaughter too, will wander, rootless, with only a passport to call home. Dear Montefiolipino, don't cry. Mommy promises you no one will
come and devour you. No greedy whale of a company sharking through political
seas. No backwater bullying of businesses with broken morals. No blindfolded bureaucracies
gonna push this mother ocean over the edge. No one's drowning, baby. No one's moving.
No one's losing their homeland. No one's becoming a climate change refugee.
Or should I say, no one else.
To the Carteret Islanders of Papua New Guinea
and to the Tarot Islanders of Fiji,
I take this moment to apologize to you.
We are drawing the line here
because we, baby, are going to fight.
Your mommy, daddy, boo daddy boo boo jima your
country and your president too we will all fight and even though there are
those hidden behind platinum titles who like to pretend that we don't exist who
like to pretend that the Marshall Islands Tuvalu Kiribati Maldives typhoon
Haiyan in the Philippines floods floods of Algeria, Colombia,
Pakistan and all the hurricanes, earthquakes and tidal waves didn't exist?
Still there are those who see us. Hands reaching out, fists raising up, banners
unfurling, megaphones booming and we are canoes blocking coal ships. We are the
radiance of solar villages. We are the fresh, clean soil of the farmer's past. We are teenagers
blooming petitions. We are families biking, recycling, reusing, engineers building, dreaming,
designing, artists, painting, dancing, writing and we
are spreading the word.
And there are thousands out on the streets marching hand in hand, chanting for change
now.
And they're marching for you baby.
They're marching for us because we deserve to do more than just survive. We deserve to
thrive. Dear Mata Feli Beinam, you are eyes heavy with drowsy weight, so just
close those eyes and sleep in peace because we won't let you down. You'll see. Join me at the fire and dare enter. Nocturnum, Tales from the Shadows, presented by iHeart and Sonora.
An anthology of modern day horror stories inspired by the legends of Latin America.
From ghastly encounters with shapeshifters,
to bone-chilling brushes with supernatural creatures.
I know you.
Take a trip and experience the horrors
that have haunted Latin America
since the beginning of time.
Listen to Nocturnal Tales from the Shadows
as part of my Cultura podcast network available on the iHeartRadio app, Apple podcast or wherever you get your podcast.
Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich world of Black literature.
I'm Jack Peace Thomas, and I'm inviting you to join me and a vibrant community of literary
enthusiasts dedicated to protecting and celebrating our stories. Black Lit is for the page turners,
for those who listen to audiobooks while commuting or running errands for those who find themselves seeking solace,
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From thought-provoking novels to powerful poetry,
we'll explore the stories that shape our culture.
Together, we'll dissect classics and contemporary works
while uncovering the stories
of the brilliant writers behind them.
Black Lit is here to amplify the voices of Black writers
and to bring their words to life.
Listen to Blacklit on the iHeartRadio app,
Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.
Hola, mi gente.
It's Honey German, and I'm bringing you Gracias, Come Again,
the podcast where we dive deep into the world of Latin culture,
musica, peliculas, and entertainment
with some of the biggest names in the game. If you love hearing real conversations with your of Latin culture, musica, peliculas, and entertainment with some of the biggest names in the game.
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Don't miss out on the fun, el té caliente, and life stories.
Join me for Gracias Come Again, a podcast by Honey German, where we get into todo lo actual y viral.
Listen to Gracias Come Again on the iHeartRadio app, Apple
Podcasts, or wherever you get your
podcasts.
United Airlines Flight 154
starts at Honolulu.
When it leaves, it carries not only a full load of passengers,
but also a mechanic and spare parts for the plane.
On its journey, it stops in the Marshall Islands at Majuro and Kwajalein,
before heading west to make three stops in Micronesia.
And finally, it stops in Guam.
The next day, it turns around and does the same route in reverse.
Landing in Majuro, you can see the ocean on both sides of the plane.
In fact, you can see the ocean on both sides of the plane from a disturbingly low height.
And despite this being one of the larger islands in the Marshall Islands,
it almost looks like the plane won't fit on it without a wingtip overhanging the lagoon.
The plane does fit, of course, and there's even room left at Majuro Airport for the
best airport bar that I've ever seen. But even after a couple of hours in the company of the
island's finest whiskey collection, it's very clear that the Marshall Islands are in a great
deal of danger when it comes to rising sea levels. The Marshall Islands don't have much land to begin
with, and through no fault of their own, their island paradise is being gradually lost to the
ocean.
To start with, I want to let Kathy Gentle-Kichner, the poet who we heard from yesterday, outline the scale of the threat.
Climate change is a challenge that few want to take on.
But the price of inaction is so high.
Those of us from Oceania are already experiencing it firsthand.
We've seen waves crashing into our homes and our breadfruit trees wither from the salt and drought.
We look at our children and wonder how they will know themselves or their culture should we lose our islands.
Climate change affects not only us islanders, it threatens the entire world.
To tackle it, we need a radical change of course.
This isn't easy, I know.
It means ending carbon pollution within my lifetime. It means supporting those of us most affected to prepare for unavoidable climate impacts.
And it means taking responsibility for irreversible loss and damage caused by greenhouse gas emissions.
The people who
support this movement are indigenous mothers like me, families like mine and
millions more standing up for the changes needed and working to make them
happen. I ask world leaders to take us all along on your ride. We won't slow you
down. We'll help you win the most important race of all, the race to save
humanity. Currently, Pacific Island nations are responsible for less than 0.03% of global
greenhouse gas emissions. But the United Nations estimates that more than 50,000 people in the
Pacific are displaced every year, many of them by climate change. Of course, people
leave for other reasons. Perhaps they're looking for work which can be hard to find on a small
island, or perhaps they want the opportunities that the United States Life offers. Thanks to
their compact and free association, Marshallese people can live and work in the USA without a visa.
Most Marshallese people who do leave the islands move to Springdale, Arkansas.
It's where the largest off-island Marshallese community is gathered,
and they tend to cluster around the reliable jobs offered by the Tyson Chicken Factory.
In 2020, the Tyson Chicken Factory remained open during lockdowns,
and people who had left the islands for a more steady income and a better chance for a stable future
suddenly face more great risks at work.
Life is by no means easy for Marshallese
people, both in the US and at home, and the choices they face because of climate change,
constricting global economy, and the United States refusing to pay its fair share of compensation
don't make that any easier. On my last night in the Marshall Islands, I was having a beer in a bar
and chatting with a local journalist. I asked him what I should write.
He said that I needed to tell you that people in the RMI aren't moving because they're afraid of waves.
We're not afraid of the ocean, he said.
We're ocean people. We go in the ocean every day.
He was right, of course.
The drivers of migration are complicated, and they always have been.
I always tell people who ask me what I cover that they cover climate
and conflict and migration because in fact they're largely the same things.
There is many reasons for migrating from the Marshall Islands if there are people who have left
and all of them are valid but everyone I spoke to whether they'd left or come back or stayed there
their whole lives were pretty clear that nobody wants the community to leave.
The people of the Marshall Islands love their islands, and they want to raise their children and grandchildren on their ancestral land. But the people making the choices that impact their
ability to do that are a long way from the lagoon that's creeping closer and closer to the houses
around Majuro Atoll. Climate change making the islands unharvestable doesn't necessarily mean
they'll be swallowed entirely by the ocean.
Long before the last scrap of land disappears, the rising salt water will kill breadfruit trees, and flooding will destroy homes.
To get a sense of that threat, we spoke to a meteorologist.
I'm Reggie White, Reginald White, and I'm the meteorologist in charge here.
Reggie explained what climate change might do to make the islands less easy to live on,
and eventually perhaps impossible to live on if something doesn't change.
It's hard for people to see these kind of creeping changes.
When we think about climate change rendering an island uninhabitable,
we think about that island ceasing to exist,
or the houses being swept away by a storm surge,
or a massive king tide perhaps.
But in fact, the changes are more gradual, but no less destructive.
We have to go back to the emission scenarios that IPCC produced, and based on that.
Worst case scenario, if we look at it, I have to open up the computer and look at the table.
But in a hundred years, we may be not not completely sick and that's not what's important
here. What is important is the islands will be uninhabitable way before they
sink. Because we will not be able to drive on the road, we will not be able to
rely on our water lenses because they'll all have salt water into them as
more and more frequent salt water
intrusion get on top and down into the water lens they will be undrinkable. So at what stage
can we put that target? I'm not comfortable at this moment to point that out but I think
any one of us can look at the numbers and decide based on this emission scenario, this is the day. Based on that emission scenario, that
is the day. So there is not a set day or a, what do you call it? The hair that broke the
camel's back? I cannot call it. What was it? What was the American saying?
Yeah, that's it.
As Reggie explained, the impact of rising sea levels is already being seen,
particularly in the case of flooding.
Oh, there are many.
But in a low-lying atoll, your most concern is flooding, coastal flooding.
So we've seen more frequent flooding during La Niña.
La Niña is the phase where in the Marshall Islands,
specifically, you get elevated sea levels
about 10 centimeters or so,
8 to 12 inches,
on top of the normal sea level at any given time.
So when there is a storm surge,
king tide,
those things compound on one another to give us more frequent coastal
floodings in the low-lying areas. If you go in the back of Majuro you will see
people building up seawalls to protect their properties. With those seawalls the
impact has been lessened a bit but without those seawalls, nuisance flooding has been almost a monthly occurrence during
El Niño phases.
In 2021, the World Bank and the Marshallese government produced a report which allowed
visualisation of the impact of climate change on each building in Majuro.
In broad strokes, the report stated that, quote, rising sea levels in the atoll nation of the Marshall Islands are projected to endanger 40% of existing buildings in the capital, Majuro,
with 96% of the city at risk for frequent flooding introduced by climate change, according to a World Bank study.
Change seems to be very hard for the corporations and governments most responsible for it.
Indeed, one could argue that seeing that change is hard because of those corporations and governments.
Naomi Oreskes, a Harvard historian of science,
studies the propaganda that has allowed major corporations to deny the damage they do to the planet
and generate massive profits by not paying for the negative externalities of their actions.
profits by not paying for the negative externalities of their actions. Negative externalities, if you're not familiar, are the costs that their business imposes on other people
that they don't pay. In her book, Merchants of Doubt, Oreskes traces how nuclear testing did
huge damage to the ozone layer. Indeed, much of the technology we use today to track global climate
change was developed using government money.
Part of the reason why was to assess if the Soviet Union was doing nuclear testing by tracking the environmental damage that was done. Using some of the data these instruments created, scientists,
among them Carl Sagan, began to discuss the possibility of a nuclear winter and the fact
that any use of nuclear weapons, or even a nuclear accident, could put the future of all humanity at risk.
Unsurprisingly, a huge public relations effort spun up
to dismiss the idea of nuclear winter
and attack the concept of nuclear war being an unwinnable proposition.
There was, after all, a huge amount of money at stake.
In an excellent New Yorker essay on the subject,
Jill Lepore, another Harvard historian,
outlines a campaign to discredit those
scientists and their claims. In 1984, in an effort to counter Carl Sagan and to defend what was
called the Strategic Defense Initiative, the George C. Marshall Institute was founded by Robert Jastrow,
a NASA physicist, Frederick Seitz, a former president of the National Academy of Sciences,
and William Nirenberg, a past director of the National Academy of Sciences, and William Nirenberg,
a past director of the Scripps Institute of Oceanography right here where I live in San Diego.
The Marshall Institute began trying to get PBS to not air documentaries opposing the Strategic Defense Initiative. The so-called Star Wars program wouldn't be of any use if
a single nuclear incident could trigger a devastating change in the global climate. Another Marshall Institute scientist, Seltzer's cousin Russell, who is a
physicist at Harvard Center for International Affairs, published an essay in the National
Interest in the fall of 1986, dismissing the idea of nuclear winter and saying it was nothing but a
series of long conjectures. He describes the nuclear winter theory as dead, cause of death, notorious lack
of scientific integrity. By 1988, the Institute had pivoted, and it began publishing the first
of many papers on climate change. Other scientists there, including Fred Singer,
challenged the model that predicted a nuclear winter. They've gone on to do the same with
climate change, claiming that in both cases it was far from certain that catastrophic consequences would occur. Singer,
incidentally, was a consultant for Arco, Exxon, Shell Oil, and Sun Oil. He died in 2020 after
serving for years as a director of science and environment policy at the Heartland Institute,
which was founded in 1984.
Its position on global warming at the time was,
quote,
Most scientists do not believe human greenhouse gas emissions are a proven threat to the environment or human well-being,
despite a barrage of propaganda insisting otherwise coming from the environmental movement
and echoed by its sycophants in the mainstream media.
wise coming from the environmental movement and echoed by its sycophants in the mainstream media.
In the Marshall Islands, this kind of denialism, no matter how well funded and qualified,
really isn't going to stick. Everyone here has personally seen the impacts of rising sea levels eroding away on their precious land. But it's the actions of people everywhere that impact people
here. So they have to persuade the rest of the world to care about them.
I will bet that every Marshallese understands impacts because every Marshallese has been a victim of some coastal innovation, has been impacted by those. So they understand.
The youngest ones, maybe they experienced their first. But the older ones, they've been around during those days
when coastal flooding wasn't an issue.
One of the things I like to do in my free time is to free dive.
Sometimes I can collect sea urchins or cool shells.
But lots of the time, I just like to be underwater.
I've never done scuba diving.
All the gear and
equipment kind of scares me but holding my breath and swimming around the reef is probably the
closest thing I'll ever feel to flying. To be able to hold your breath for a minute or two underwater
you need to get your heart rate very low and this means being very calm, letting tension and stress
float away. It's a magical feeling and one that I've tapped into even outside the water in stressful situations. Sometimes, that ability to calm yourself could
be a bit too effective. I remember once starting to walk off a broken pelvis and passing out from
blood loss later. Sometimes, that calm focus though can be exactly what you need. Like when
you're holding your breath on the bottom of the ocean and you realize that you've got your fins
tangled and abandoned fishing line and you need to cut it so you can get back to the
surface and breathe. I saw that same ability to remain calm and even happy despite what seems
like another impending crisis every time I spoke to Marshallese people about climate change.
Between their nuclear past and their perilous future, the Marshallese people have every right
to be angry. And maybe they are angry when they're not talking to British journalists. But whenever I asked people,
they still seemed hopeful, upbeat, and excited about the future of their country.
As we're going to see tomorrow, Marshallese people are still very much investing in their
shared future. I think there's something we can all learn from the resilience of the Marshallese
community, even in the face of what seems like a second apocalyptic threat.
Here's Reggie discussing how climate change makes him feel.
Well, I try not to dwell on what could happen.
I could try to think of what we could do now to change people's heart,
to change how we behave, how we treat the world.
I mean, it's our only home.
You go out in space and look back,
it's one lonely place in an entire galaxy of stars and whatever.
But when you look at it that way,
you begin to realize, I must respect my place.
Who else will respect it if I don't?
It's worth noting that some people we talked to
were less concerned about climate change.
My name is Juliet Miranda from Marshall Island. I live on Takarn.
Juliette's an older resident of Rong Rong, one of the outer islands on Majuro Atoll.
Her life there is in many senses idyllic. Her cookhouse is built around a large breadfruit
tree. The tree also serves as a work service. It's like a solar punk vision of the
future where we live in harmony with nature. But for her, it's just a place she makes lunch.
Along with the other Rongrong Islanders, she served a visiting group that I was part of a
delicious lunch of coconut, breadfruit, pandanus, crabs, and rice, while we talked about what brought
her back to the Marshall Islands after 30 years living in the United States.
Well, because you're always homesick when I'm in the USA.
I miss my, you know, walk around freedom.
Like, USA, you cannot go to the next door because, you know, trespassing.
But around here, you do everything yes it's it's
different lots of things so I love it USA that light all my old thing I usually do
wrecking and
make my own chicken
and swimming
on beach in Santa Barbara you have to
get a bag to go
to the beach, over here you go to
the beach
she clearly loves her little piece of paradise
and it's easy to see why.
She was happy to share it with us, as were all the islanders on Rong Rong.
A short walk away from her house, her neighbor's children played in the sand with their pigs, chickens, and dogs.
And it's certainly a very different place from Santa Barbara, where she spent much of her time in the United States.
But it's no less special.
Like many Marshallese, she has a very strong faith.
And that faith is helping her explain why climate change is happening.
Do you think it's because their sea level is rising? Do you think it will make it harder
for people to live and move?
Some people do that, but I don't believe it. Only God will do it.
Only God will?
Only God will do it.
Only God will?
I believe in God. When they do the weather and say it's going to rain tomorrow,
and tomorrow is not going to be raining.
God's going to make it rain.
The news don't know.
You know it.
You're a minister.
For others, the threat is already here. Here's one conversation with
Monique and Francine from Cora in Okurane, a local NGO who you'll hear a lot about tomorrow.
They're doing incredible work investing in the future of the Marshall Islands by installing
water filters and smokeless stoves in homes across the nation. You might never have had to worry
about clean water or never been concerned that cooking your food might hurt your lungs.
But both of those things are massive public health issues if you don't have access to
electricity, gas, and clean water from a pipe that comes into your home.
One night, before dinner, we talked to them about climate change.
The scientists are saying that you've got so many years until all the ice melts and affects us.
We don't have mountains to run to.
Like some places, they can just run to the mountains.
We don't.
And it's Marshall Islands and all these...
Kiribati.
Kiribati.
We're at the front lines.
Yeah.
So you're also blessed that you get to see the Marshall Islands.
Yeah, and really look, really see firsthand what the possibility would be.
The impact goes beyond the individual, though.
When we heard from the Ministry of Health on the impact that climate change is already having
on the well-being of Marshallese people,
they reminded us that both the physical and mental health
of residents has been affected.
So, farewell.
Farewell.
As the acting secretary said,
my name is Nathan Carter.
I'm a climate change and Health Admin.
Well, first of all, welcome to the RMF.
Very grateful that you're here to visit us.
I think Michael Jackson said it best.
If you want to see change in the world, you have to look in the mirror and look at yourself.
So this is our
climate change and health department
climate
impacts on health and well-being.
Nathan went on to explain
what that means, both in terms
of mental health and in physical
health as mosquitoes and other disease vectors
adapt to the changing climate and rising
sea levels.
I.e. communicable diseases and NCDs, reducing vulnerabilities with vector-borne diseases,
and then improving mental health resilience. So the mental health resilience is a really key point.
We have an art seminar that's ongoing right now in partnership with Jojibu, which lets the youth express how climate change
makes them feel. And also involving the community and getting their feedback.
The climate issue is not just at a national level,
it's mostly at the community level.
All of these changes are hard to predict,
but it's easy to see the impact climate change has already had.
We spoke to the island's Environmental Protection Agency to get a sense of what that meant.
My name is Moriana Phillip and I'm the general manager here. As you can see we're a very small
organization with a very broad mandate. Anything environmental related we are accountable to and we're supposed to provide advice to the government and the
marginalized people about new issues that are coming up. And so, you know, we're easily
overwhelmed and outmatched. And then, you know, you throw in climate change into the mix,
and suddenly I can't even imagine what the change is going to be like
in the next five years or ten years.
It's hard for me to imagine.
When I was a child, I used to go to the school across the street.
It's DES, it's a public school.
And we would cross the road and swim from here all the way to Delop
and then cross the road and go home.
This was all white, sandy beach.
You know, obviously that's not the case anymore.
One way that the Marshallese community has responded to climate change
is to take a position of leadership on mitigating carbon emissions.
We heard about this all over the island,
with solutions ranging from electric canoes to sailboats
to a grid that runs on renewable energy.
They've also taken leadership in how aid money is
spent. Rather than just accepting the projects as funders suggest them, the RMI has been vocal in
making sure that the unique challenges that they face are reflected with unique solutions that they
propose. For example, they simply don't have the space for larger solar farms, even if they do have
the funding. My name is Angeline Heine-Reymers.
Other than being part of PEO, I'm also the director for the National Energy Office.
And then I'd like to introduce you to Ben.
He's the deputy director.
So we're a very small office.
It's newly created.
It was developed in 2018. So we're trying to be creative
and we partnered with our local government in exchange, building them basketball courts. The
reason why there's so many basketball courts is that we'll be installing a rooftop, and on the rooftop, that's where we're going to be housing the solar,
connecting it to the grid.
And with this project, it took us, I think, more than a year, Ben,
to go back and forth with our partner
because they just wanted to go ahead and put on solar.
Sometimes, the scale of the programs larger countries use
simply isn't a good fit for
the Marshallese.
We get funding to go on trips to places like Korea, Japan, Okinawa, to see all these systems
that in the eyes of big countries they see as islands, like Jeju Island in Korea.
But they're like so advanced compared to here.
You go there and they have ocean thermal.
And to us, we're like, OK, what about our corals?
That's where our reef fish lives in. Do we have to get rid of our corals?
Maybe we should rethink that.
They also make sure to incorporate traditional methods
and their culture along with
their modern solutions i wanted to ask more about the electric canoes that they use i know they're
really cool um and i'm interested to know like a well jeremy i really like that you were incorporating
the traditional ways into your way of moving,
sort of ignoring them or trying other things.
Was that something that, you know,
to continue, was that something that was dreamed up,
like here, at the WAM, and like,
can you talk about how far through this convention,
how much you think it might save?
Then do you wanna start with how we came up
with the idea for the, and then where we
are at in it?
Yeah.
So WAM started the initiative of the boat building and they wanted to, it strictly started
with WAM.
We had no idea about their project, but initially they got a project from a donor
for boat building where they would modernize
these traditional canoes just to make modifications
to like make the hull bigger for catching fish
or just why not.
And then out of the blue, the director for WAM said,
hey, what if we put solar on this boat i think there's something in
the market so we just out of the blue just wanted to test it um unfortunately when we purchased the
motor and they want to start the testing one burned down and the motor burned down with it
but they did a few runs in the lagoon with it and it was really awesome i
wrote on it one point they started using winning the wind died down turned on the motor and they
started using the motor and the one pick up they turned off the motor it was really awesome yeah
but we in eo uh the director wanted to procure another one so we procured another one with our own funds.
So it's on its way and should be here very shortly to do some real testing.
Nice. But we also partnered with WAM.
Because of that just pilot project, we saw the need to build more of this similar kind canoe.
So we asked another donor if we can use their funding to fund
the second phase of that project so right now they've been approved and they're building an
additional 18 more canoes for each out of each island and uh so the process is they bring in
these boat builders from the outer islands they train them how they build these new style canoes with modern technology and then they ship it back out. One success story without the motor
is in the atoll of Likyip, they completely stopped using their
motorized boat because they're 100% using the canoe. And the canoe can carry up to a ton.
So they've been carrying Cobra from one islet to another back and forth with the canoe.
And they said they'd save so much money that they decided to do a fishing tournament at
their outer islet from the money they save on fuel.
Here's Reggie talking about how he sees his role in combating climate change.
I don't enjoy being helpless.
I don't believe that the impacts of others should impact me.
I make the changes where I can.
I try to behave in a manner that is not detrimental to the earth. And I preach that
to my kids. And hopefully the compounding effect will grow exponentially from them to
other ambassadors to spread the word that, you know, we need to do something. It's not about politics and it's about, you know, your
overhead or how much profit you gain at the end of the day. It's about how you gain those
by, you know, being a good ambassador to preserving the earth and the climate,
you know, all the other inhabitants, not just humans.
Wherever we went in the Republic of the Marshall Islands, it was hard to find doom and gloom with
regards to climate change. What we found everywhere was people adapting and making changes,
both the kind of changes that reduced their carbon emissions and the kind that made their
homes more defensible because the rest of the world is not making that first kind of changes.
Resilience doesn't just mean sea walls and houses on stilts that can withstand flood,
although those are important.
It also means making hard choices and forming strong communities.
Here's Mariana again.
There's a lot of attention on us as front line countries in the face of climate change.
We get a lot of reporters come in asking us questions.
We get a lot of consultants that come in and out and collect data.
Of course, we're seen as the sad countries that will eventually face the reality of having no land to live on, right?
So forced relocation, displacement.
I don't want to say migration
because that's not exactly migration.
If you have to leave you're you're
you're being displaced um our concern is that
we're not we don't have all the capabilities and the science at our fingertip to help inform the government or, you know, everyone interested, donors,
about how much is changing, how much is going to change, and especially how that change is going to change us.
You know, it's overwhelming.
We have a national adaptation plan.
I hope that you will get into that when you get the chance to.
That's the survival plan.
that's the survival plan um in that survival plan there is you know there is very scary reality that we may need to take down some islands to elevate some islands you know and every island have their landowners
and what happens to those people Marshallese are connected to their land so much culturally
and so how do we adapt to that change when it comes so quickly. That's scary.
Everywhere you go in the Marshall Islands, you see the impact of climate change and rising sea
levels. But you also see the community responding and supporting itself through the existential
threat. The RMI isn't a sad place, quite the opposite. It's a tremendously happy and beautiful
place. And I had one of the most enjoyable weeks I can remember there.
I'd go back in a heartbeat.
But the joy with which people approach every day doesn't mean they aren't concerned.
It certainly doesn't mean they're not worthy of our concern.
Tomorrow, we're going to discuss how the people of the Republic of Marshall Islands,
and in particular the women of the Republic of Marshall Islands,
are making sure that Marshallese people have a safe and healthy future.
Welcome, I'm Danny Threl.
Won't you join me as the fire and dare enter?
Nocturnal, Tales from the Shadows, presented by iHeart and Sonora.
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Listen to Nocturnal Tales from the Shadows
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Hey, I'm Jack Peace Thomas, the host of a brand new Black Effect original series, Black Lit, the podcast for diving deep into the rich
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Hi, I'm Ed Zitron, host of the Better Offline podcast,
and we're kicking off our second season
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offline is your unvarnished and at times unhinged look at the underbelly of tech from an industry
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and naming and shaming those responsible.
Don't get me wrong, though.
I love technology.
I just hate the people in charge
and want them to get back to building things
that actually do things to help real people.
I swear to God things can change if we're loud enough,
so join me every week to understand
what's happening in the tech industry
and what could be done to make things better.
Listen to Better Offline on the iHeartRadio app,
Apple Podcasts, or wherever else you get your podcasts.
Check out betteroffline.com.
This is for all you guys so you can dance.
It's going to take too much, so you've got to do something.
You've got to move it. Twice in the week I spent on Majuro,
I didn't get to sleep until after midnight
because the hotel's event space was about eight feet from my pillow
and someone in that event space was having an absolute rager.
Before trying and failing to go to sleep, I chatted with some folks who were at the party to see what was going on. The first night was a first birthday party. Infant
mortality has been so high in this area in the past that children making it through the
first year of their life was a cause for massive celebration. It was rather sweet to see adults
enjoying such a good time around a one-year-old
who had no idea what was going on. The next party, a few days later, was no less festive,
but for a much more sombre reason. It was a celebration to remember an eight-year-old girl
who died exactly one year before. People showed me her photo, and despite my condolences,
they assured me that it wasn't a sad affair. I don't want to make this series a sad affair either,
because despite the incredible challenges they have faced,
Marshallese people have persevered,
and they clearly have a great pride in their islands,
and I don't think they would want to be seen as helpless
and acted upon by global forces beyond their control.
Instead, they should be seen as a strong community
that has withstood some of the worst things a history can throw at a community
and continue to thrive. As we spoke about yesterday, they're taking huge steps to
ensure that they lead the way on sustainable development. They're also ensuring their future
in other ways. Some of those might not be as shiny and glitzy as solar power grids or canoes powered
by the sun, but which have made a huge difference to the residents of the country, particularly in the outer atolls. What I want to talk about today is one of those projects.
It's a project imagined, implemented, and executed by the women of Kora in Okrane.
The name means women who rise at dawn, and it's very appropriate. Every interview you've heard
so far, and every place we went to, was thanks to the women of Keogh.
The trip I was part of was there to witness the installation of the final water filters, on the island of Rong Rong,
that would bring to a successful conclusion a five-year project to ensure that every single person in the Marshall Islands had access to clean water.
I'll let them introduce themselves to you, as they did to us.
My name is Francine Wassey Jacklick, but most people around town call me Matu.
So if you hear Francine, they're not going to know who that is.
I am a KIO member.
I'm one of the officers as the secretary.
And I've been a KIO member, gosh, I can't remember when.
But, you know, we've come a long way.
KIO is about 17 years old right now.
Wow.
17.
Yeah, it's been a very fun ride.
It's my fun job.
Aside from Kiyo as my fun work, I work at the Ministry of Health and Human Services.
My permanent position is the Deputy Secretary,
and Human Services. My permanent position is the Deputy Secretary overseeing Office of Health Planning, Policy Preparedness, Personnel, and Epidemiology. And three months ago, I was also
given the authoritative role as the Acting Secretary of Health because the secretary was not renewed.
Politics.
So, yeah.
Kiyo is Kiyo.
Kareena Urani.
And we're very happy because our founder is here.
And it's Monique.
So we'll do introduction and then we'll go into the agenda.
Is that okay?
Sounds like fun.
Yeah.
Okay. we'll do introduction and then we'll go into the agenda is that okay okay so I will hand it to the back which is our founder Monique somebody go ahead
hello everyone
Hi!
Welcome I'm Monique
I am the co-founder of Q actually not the founder but
we're really happy that you've made it.
You know, your flight wasn't canceled.
Last week so many flights were canceled
so we're so nervous.
But welcome in our language we say ya kwe.
Ya means rainbow and kwe is you so you are a rainbow to us.
is you, so you are a rainbow to us. I am a mother for now. I don't work. Most of us have their work, but I'm a full-time mother. And this is my baby, actually, Kiyo, it started 16 years ago. Myself and a friend, we were in school on the East Coast
and we graduated and we all came back. And, you know, we were raised with this mentality
to give back. We have lots of Marshallese proverbs and means to turn the tides.
So it was our time to turn the tides.
So we banded together all these like minded, smart ladies and created Q.
And it's a volunteer organization.
We do this in our sleep, basically.
All volunteer work. We don't get paid yes so we do various work from small projects like you know reading with the kids and big projects like water
this water project my name is Kathy I work for the Ministry of Natural Resources and Commerce
with the Fisheries Memorandum.
And I've been a field member since the first year,
like 16 years ago at least.
And it is, like Monique said, it's an honor and we are very humbled by the visit.
I welcome you all and hope you have a great visit.
Thank you.
My name is Samantha. I work at the Ministry of Finance as an accountant and I'm a CEO of Trello. Thank you.
So I'm very pleased to meet all of you. When they say we have all these media, you know, big news media outlets coming from the
state, I was kind of nervous.
But anyways, I've been a KIO member since 2014, and I was so amazed by all the work
that these ladies have been doing for the Marshall Islands and I'm very proud
to be part of Kia Club. I work at Rongelap Atoll Local Government and I'm not sure if you know but
Rongelap is one of those atolls that was affected by the nuclear testing so again welcome. Kia
worked with Soya, the people who make the ubiquitous water filter which is a
favorite for through hikers and other outdoors people to provide a water filtration system that
allows marshallese people to filter the rainwater they collect and remove harmful bacteria that can
cause diarrhea and vomiting while these might seem undesirable to listeners in the u.s they can be
fatal in other settings in 2019 around 1.5 million people died from diarrheal
diseases. That's more than all violent deaths combined. Around half a million of those deaths
were children. One thing that's remarkable about the project is the way it was realized.
Keogh began distribution in the most remote and hard to reach atolls, taking tiny boats across
choppy seas for days
at a time to get to remote islands and then working with traditional women leaders to ensure
that everyone on the islands knew how to use the filters. Then they began working towards Majuro,
the capital. I've seen lots of NGO projects in dozens of countries. I've worked with some of
them, but I've rarely seen a model that prioritizes need this well.
In far too many cases, proximity to power ensures access to resources.
This is a global problem.
Just look at how the US distributed masks and COVID resources to reservations last.
Or if I step outside, I can see how the lowest income parts of San Diego, the city I live in,
have the worst roads and get the least infrastructure spending. The fact that Keogh did things differently is a testament to the strength of their commitment to their community. In fact, the project finished distribution during my trip
to the Marshall Islands, completing the last island on Majuro Atoll in early July. But a few
days later than that, when Keogh invited myself and some other journalists to a goodbye breakfast,
they presented a filter to the former president of the Republic of Marshall Islands, Hilda Hine.
Despite being the last person to get one, she was very grateful.
And it served as a great illustration of the priorities of the group.
They wanted to go to the hardest places first because they knew people there needed help the most.
Here's President Hilda Hain after receiving her filter.
I was telling Monique that we don't drink from our tap water.
We have our own system, but we don't know if it's clean, so we buy our drinking water
all the time.
So with this one, I probably will stop buying Pacific Pure Water.
I joined Keo and several other journalists for the final leg of their project,
which involves installing the water filters.
This doesn't really take long.
They're basically a soil filter attached to a five-gallon bucket with a length of flexible hose,
and then explaining their value and upkeep to the community.
As we heard yesterday, groundwater is harder and harder to come by in the Marshall Islands thanks to climate change,
and so people rely almost exclusively on rainwater.
They collect rainwater in giant plastic tanks.
They've only recently replaced a hodgepodge of different collection vessels.
Incidentally, a visiting scientist from the CDC told me that the installation of these tanks has increased the safe disposal of waste because people no longer need to take their bins to collect rain
water when it rains. Once water is in the tanks, the residents can draw it out into their five
gallon bucket and then filter it for safe drinking. The Soya filter system may seem very simple,
and it is, but that's what makes it a perfect solution here. A complicated electric
filter or one that relied on pipe water pressure or had a ton of moving parts would require
constant maintenance, which is hard given the long journey to the outer islands.
In my career in journalism and in non-profit, I've seen countless well-intentioned aid projects
completely fail to consider the need for sustainability and become useless oddities
in a few years.
Cargo bikes made a huge difference to coffee farmers in Rwanda until they needed new brake pads and there wasn't an importer for them. The same goes for the countless glucometers I've seen
distributed to people who can't access the batteries they use or the test strips they rely on.
This won't happen in the Marshall Islands, In part because the project was led by the community itself and not by outside non-profits looking to maximise donation dollars or media opportunities.
And in part because the only maintenance a soil filter needs is a backflash of the filtered water that it makes.
Yesterday, we heard a little from the Marshallese Environmental Protection Agency about how they grapple with climate change.
about how they grapple with climate change.
Today, I want to explain how they're working alongside KEO to ensure that even as sea levels rise,
Marshallese people will have access to safe water.
The Marshallese EPA works to ensure
that the water in people's tanks isn't contaminated,
and the filters that KEO provided work to make sure
that even if it is, people won't get sick.
They often travel to the outer islands
together to reduce the cost, sharing a small boat. It's a rare example of a non-profit
and a government working together without competing or doing the same thing twice.
At first, Mariano explained, people weren't sure that such a tiny filter could make such
a big difference. So Keo worked with the EPA to use a visual test for microbial activity
to show people how effective it was.
Here she is explaining how the EPA helped Kio build trust in the efficacy of the Sawyer filters.
When Sawyers and Kio approached us with the filters,
before that a lot of people were already asking us, so can we trust this?
Can you do a test in your lab to tell us and confirm that this is as good as they claim it to be?
Doing the test allowed the EPA to help Keogh get greater uptake for their filters
and allowed Keogh to help the EPA achieve one of its mandated goals.
And so when we produce these very visual like quanta, quanta or quanti trays,
the experts will get into it. But when we produce them and show a visual contrast between the water before the filter and then the water before the
after the filter filtration it was you know amazing like it's it's so clean and
and you know we we make decisions based on science and that science right there. And so we used that visual photograph
outside of that meeting to show people,
we're not gonna get into the microbials or whatever.
This is the difference, the water before the filter
and then after.
And so we're just really happy that KIO was able to include us.
This is one of our mandates, but we're never resourced that way to, you know,
do all of the things that we want to do to address water quality issues.
Of course, it's impossible to deal with a water issue in isolation.
Everything in the Marshall Islands, and really anywhere else where you're paying attention,
has to take into account the impact of climate change
and how communities are going to survive when faced with an increasingly hostile home planet.
Marianne explained how access to clean water helps make the community in the Marshall Islands even more resilient.
helps make the community in the Marshall Islands even more resilient.
Well, if you're trying to survive,
the last thing you want to worry about is an outbreak of diarrhea or hepatitis or, you know, waterborne diseases that are preventable.
And so clean water, you know,
you're much, much more better as a community if you can thrive on clean water.
It's as simple as that. Water is life.
One night during my trip to the Marshall Islands,
I was able to join Keo for a dinner that celebrated the completion of their water project,
meaning that everyone in the Marshall Islands had access to water that won't make them sick.
To get a better sense of what this really means,
I wanted to talk to some families who had received those filters
and to see what the clean water access meant to them.
We've all heard that water is life,
and that was a slogan used for Kiyo's project. But it's difficult to appreciate that if you
live in a place where you can just turn on a tap and have access to clean, safe water whenever you
want. When Kiyo made their posters for that dinner, they included a photo of a little girl
on Arno Island who'd been one of the first to receive their filters, happily drinking from a jar of clean water.
That was back in 2018.
Since then, they thought they'd heard the terrible news that she'd died.
But just before the dinner, they found out she hadn't,
and so they invited her to join the celebration.
I was able to sit down with her, her mother,
and other recipients of the filters for a quick interview via translator
on the tiny island of Bokanbotan.
So they never filtered their water before.
They would drink straight from the water wells or the water catchments.
Sometimes, she said, people would get sick.
We also spoke to Anidi, a resident of Rongrong,
on the day that she got her filter.
Francine helped to translate her responses.
What she had heard about that there was going to be filters coming to the island,
when she first heard, she thought the filters were going to go directly to the water tanks.
And now that it's more accessible,
it's like she saw this bucket, she's happy.
It's better?
It's better, yeah.
Recently, there had been an outbreak of diarrhea around the atoll,
so this was a welcome relief.
So she had heard that there was uptick of cases in Maduro, the capital. So this was a welcome relief. folks coming here to the island to check on the water,
it made them feel a little bit more at ease.
The family from Arno, who had travelled a long way on a small boat to meet us,
were looking forward to getting back to their home.
Life on the outer atolls isn't easy, but it's not one they want to walk away from.
With the threat of climate change already putting their home in peril,
having access to clean water must be a welcome relief. I asked if they preferred life here on the Capitol Atoll or back home. Yeah, she says life in the outer islands is better. There's more space, more freedom
to move around for the kids. There are things she'd like to change, of course, but mostly her
concern was preserving their little piece of paradise for future generations.
She'd like her kids to be able to enjoy access to clean water,
whether it be through more water catchments being available to the family, also Electric City as mentioned perhaps with
the generator stuff like that to make life more easier in the Outer Islands.
She'd like to you know like in the future be able to see the fishing grounds preserved as well as the land for their farming needs.
The way Kia works with local communities, because they're from local communities,
enables them to be much more effective than a non-profit which comes from outside the community.
On Rong Rong, they joke and laugh with local women. Monique's husband comes from the island,
so they're already welcome. And then after some time bantering, they explained the way
the water filters work. In Marshallese families, there's still a fairly gendered division of labour
in many cases, and it seemed to be that the women on the island were the ones who stayed
to learn about the filters, so it was appropriate that it was women who were teaching them.
Preservation doesn't mean there can't be change.
The Marshall Islands have seen a huge change in the last few years,
and much of that is down to the dedicated work of a large number of women
who have formed community groups to empower each other
and address social, ecological and public health issues that are facing their communities.
The umbrella organisation that works with these women's groups is called WUPMI.
I'll let Maria from WUPMI explain what that means and why they started the group in the
first place.
First of all, welcome.
As you know, WUPMI stands for Women United Together Marshall Islands.
It also means in Marshallese, your flower.
And that's how we wanted the acronym to be, to mean both English and Marshallese.
And as Daisy said, it was established in 1987 to fill a gap with respect to the advancement of women.
In 1975, that was the decade for women, UN Decade for Women. And there were two conferences that took place,
and there were a lot of issues that came about in those two meetings.
They were dealing with domestic violence, alcohol abuse, suicide of the youth,
other problems, child abuse and neglect.
other problems, child abuse and neglect.
So from those, women started to meet,
at least some women, started to talk about this, because there were no representatives of women
in the decision-making bodies,
whether at the local government levels
or at the national level.
So that's, and we got the support of our traditional women leaders.
WUMI works alongside traditional leaders and not around them.
The same was true of all the programs that have been successful on the islands.
On our last day, we visited WAM, the program that builds the canoes we heard about.
Although the program was founded to preserve the cultural heritage of the islands
and their unique seafaring technologies,
some of which are only just being replicated in modern craft in Europe and the USA,
it also responded to a need that the community had.
In this case, that need was education.
So we are a training program for at-risk young men and women of the Marshall Islands.
It started out as a
project back in the 80s. One of our co-founder of this program, the museum
contracted him to go through various islands in the Republic and you're talking about
back in the 80s and we were losing our designs fast. People were coming to Maduro or going to the States or just going off islands for many reasons.
And because of that, they wanted to capture that uniqueness of each design.
But when he was going through from one atoll to another, he noticed that there were a lot of young kids not going to school.
So I'm not sure if you're aware of it but throughout the Republic there's only
about four or five high schools and most of them are boarding schools. So for example
I grew up in Jelluit and in that atoll there there's a boarding high school,
and then it gathers to about six or seven other islands.
So parents have no choice but to send their kids.
If they want to go beyond eighth grade,
you have to leave home and go to this boarding school.
In addition to offering a skill set and an education,
the program has counselors in mental health and addiction.
They teach young men and women maths, literacy,
and how to build the canoes.
But they also empower them in creating the sustainable alternative transport method
that will be vital in building a sustainable future for their home.
Likewise, Wutmi's approach is based on listening to people.
Women chiefs, you know, we let them know what we'll be doing
and what would they want us to do.
And we ask them to talk with their, you know, like,
because these women chiefs are owning some of the neighboring islands and they know their people.
And do need assistance so they can understand what their needs are
because all the neighboring islands are different needs.
They make an effort to tie their efforts to traditional Marshallese principles.
And in doing so, they keep their culture alive.
So, being together
and getting this. The other thing
that would be a stand, which
is connect
our
being to our culture.
Being a matrilineal
society, we have different sayings
or traditional roles of women.
And then we have the domestic violence one is called wado in meur.
Wado meaning it's a land parcel.
Meur means to be alive, to live and not to be killed as opposed to being abused.
So whether or not it's somewhere you go to
and you're able to live freely or in a being,
I mean, you're well protected.
So in all our conferences, we do use these traditional,
so that it's something that it's not new, it's traditional.
So they cannot say, you know, you cannot do that because it's a tradition.
And we keep the culture alive through that way as well.
Almost everyone you've heard from in this series, aside from the men,
is a member of Keo or Wutmi or both.
Keo is one of the chapters of Wutmi,
and many of the Keo leaders are the daughters of Wutmi's leadership.
Wutmi have implemented parent-as-teacher early childhood education programs,
domestic violence prevention programs,
and many other social, economic, and political programs across the islands.
The results are easy to see.
All over the Marshall Islands, government offices and NGOs are run by women now. The Marshall
Islands had the first woman president in the whole Pacific, and she was elected in January 2016,
a year when rampant misogyny was more evident than ever in the United States presidential election.
Of course, many Marshallese women go to the United States, and what means members are no exception.
One of the major challenges has been to make sure that we keep the organization intact.
Because it's, especially at present time, because there's a lot of out-migration
that we have to constantly work with, especially with women in the islands where
they come and then they don't stay long in the urban areas they just
migrate out so now there are so many of them that they're trying to form
women's group in the United States as well so so we they come and visit us and
we communicate with them occasionally, sharing information or other issues, because
what issues they experience here, they also experience in the United States.
And so they need to be aware of how we're trying to deal with those.
But many women also go to the US for their education and then return to be part of their
community and help lift their community up.
the US for their education and then return to be part of their community and help lift their community up. Now, thanks to Wutmi's hard work and the government's efforts, women don't have
to leave to get these skills. The energy department has trained women on outer islands, for example,
to fix their own power grids. Yeah, so we're kind of all over the place. At one time we went and actually trained a community of all women.
Like, we had to include men to allow women to be part of the training.
And we have nine women that graduated certified trainers.
And we awarded them with tools and everything so when there's
power outages in their solar home systems and they can address it and Grace who's in the middle that
that's the island where she's from where we train the woman to become trainers and it's our first
ever so when we found that it was successful we try to
extend it out to the other islands so i think that's one of the reasons why it's difficult
for countries such as us where we've been colonized and trying to find a balance between
a modern day government form of democracy where you're taught that individualism is
important and your rights are important and then you have your traditional
structure when where you're when you grow up you're taught that it's a
collective society you your piety is important respecting it's not your
thoughts are not worth it,
your elders and your chiefs.
So I think that's where we have to find the balance.
This comment that Angeline made in our chat
after her excellent presentation on energy sovereignty
really got me thinking about the post-colonial future
of the Marshall Islands.
Today, they're empowered as an independent nation,
but they still have to
exist within a framework where corporations and more powerful governments don't have to pay for
the consequences of their actions. In 2022, the US unsealed an indictment of a Chinese couple who
bribed five Marshallese members of parliament and attempted to bribe a sixth in order to help them
carve out a kind of mini-state, a so-called special economic zone, as a tax haven
on Rongelapitol. This is one of the places heavily impacted by the nuclear testing we spoke about
earlier. Hilda Hine, among others, opposed this. She said, economic development is and should be
encouraged, but not at the expense of money laundering and other similarly ill activities
that are usually a part of money laundering, as was obvious in the Rongelap Atoll Special Administrative Region legislation.
The people of Rongelap deserved better standards of living and economic development.
While there's no evidence of CCP involvement in this scheme,
it came as part of a larger panic about Beijing's influence in the region.
In 2022, the Solomon Islands signed a pact with China to help improve their internal security. And China has already provided the Solomons with
police training and donated replica guns and riot control equipment, such as water cannon vehicles.
The Solomon Islands are still covered in bombs from the US and Japan's fighting in the Pacific,
but instead of helping dispose of these, this form of investment is sending more weapons to
the government, not help to the people there. According to a recent published study in the
journal Science, the world's corporations produce so much climate change causing pollution that it
would eat up 44% of their profits if they had to pay damages for the impact of their activity.
Your reusable straw might help, and it's good that you're using it, but until the world,
and giant corporations especially, listen to the voices of people impacted by our choices,
things won't change. I want to end by talking about the future of the Marshall Islands,
and how Marshallese people are determining that. In the last century, they've been let down by the
League of Nations, who reallocated the islands to the Japanese under South Sea's mandate, then let down by the US and the UN after the war, and they're
still being let down by international institutions today when their demands for climate fairness are
ignored. But this doesn't mean they can't benefit from international solidarity. It was American
made water filters, and a significant donation from a company better known for hiking
that helped every single person in the Marshall Islands get clean water.
It was Greenpeace who relocated people when the US government wouldn't.
And it was Marshallese women who took week-long nausea-inducing boat rides across dangerous seas
to distribute those water filters that save lives in places where there's less access to care.
With access to the right resources and
international solidarity and goodwill, the possibilities for the Marshall Islands seem
endless. They've endured world war, survived the dropping of the atom bomb, and they're adapting
to climate change by centering community and their obligations to each other, rather than trying to
each take what they can and get out. With access to clean water and homes free
of smoke, their children will be healthier, and every child I met on the island seemed to have
bright hopes for the future. I met one kid who wanted to be a basketball player, and another
who aspired to apparently be as tall as I am. People on the islands don't focus on their past,
but on their future, and with a little solidarity and decency from the rest of the world, they have a very bright one. I want to finish this series with the explanation
we got from Wutmi of the Marshallese flag. It's a great flag by the way, and you should look it up
if you haven't seen it. It's one of the most common flags of convenience for merchant vessels
all over the world. I've seen it in several continents, but never really knew what it meant.
At least for now, it seems to mean that these
tiny islands, which have been through so much, still have great hopes for the future.
The Marshallese flag, there's two, the orange and the white, right? And they represent the
relic chain and the radar chain, the sunrise chain of islands and the sunset chain of islands,
the sun rise chain of islands and the sunset chain of islands, which form the Marshall Islands. So those two lines, but those lines, there's one orange and one white.
Orange is for courage.
It's called kill.
And the white is for peace.
So but these lines are not parallel.
They become larger as they move up.
And they don't start from the corner.
They start from a little bit over the corner of the flag.
Meaning that we have a past.
We didn't start from the beginning when we started this new government in 1979.
And then it moves up. It doesn't go all the way to the corner at the top.
Because we're always growing.
So, you know, we're always growing. We more episodes every week from now until the heat death of the universe.
It Could Happen Here is a production of Cool Zone Media.
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