COVID Comes to the Marshalls

 

In March 2020, the Republic of the Marshall Islands closed its borders to the outside world. The only exception was for US Army personnel and contractors flying into the garrison on Kwajalein atoll. Military flights there were once a week, with the expectation that travelers would complete a long quarantine prior to travel in Honolulu, and an even longer one on island.  All cruise ships and sailing vessels were suspended until further notice. As a result, the RMI stayed COVID free for over two years. 

This island nation, part of Micronesia, is spread out over 29 atolls and consists of over 1000 small islands. The most populated of these is Majuro, the capital, followed by Ebeye, which serves as a workforce for the US Army Garrison on Kwajalein. 

Part of the attraction of accepting a teaching job on the island was that there was no COVID: no restrictions, no mask wearing, only the initial quarantine period. However, we arrived days before the first cases did. Reportedly, it is still unknown how COVID came to the RMI. United Airlines had recommenced flights to repatriate the Marshallese, and it is possible it came in that way. Our school reported the first two cases on Kwajalein military base among the students who come over daily from the neighboring island of Ebeye. Jon and I had been over to Ebeye days before, on a visit, without wearing mask, and were aware that we could have come into contact with Covid that way.

Like us, the Marshallese are largely vaccinated, and this is making a difference to the number of hospitalizations. The island of Majuro is currently leading the surge of Covid cases, but with few deaths. I am hearing of families, students and teachers testing positive, taking their 5 day sick leave, then returning to the community.  I had 5 students out sick with Covid last week, and had to cover for two teachers who were also positive. I am not sure what the weeks ahead will bring.

The community is starting to impose restrictions. Masks must be worn indoors. Some (although there doesn't seem too much rhyme or reason for which) events and sites are being closed. The dining facility is still open, but bars are closed. Events such as the Labor Day beach bash have been cancelled, but the soccer league and swim meets are still on. It is unlikely that schools will be closed, due to parent opposition. The hospital is advising everyone to do their own testing at home. We can no longer travel to other islands for our own personal recreation, and the dive shop has closed. 

Most of what we do on Kwajalein is outdoors and does not include large groups of people. Personally, I can continue to go to the beach, eat out and order my goodies online. Even when our local bar closed, we were able to hang out ocean side with our own drinks. And coming from Africa, where we found little airborne transmission of the virus, I am expecting the whole think to blow over soon.

However, the Marshall Islands have topped the charts of Covid cases as of yesterday. They went from zero cases to over 1,000 daily cases overnight. Although these are mainly on Majuro, there is no saying whether the same will happen on Ebeye. Obesity and diabetes due to poor diet could cause deaths, and there is not the hospital care to deal with a full epidemic. Although the island I live on is sparsely populated, Ebeye has a population of 40,000 per sq km. If they pull through this, it will be due to their high vaccination rate. Meanwhile we will just have to deal with fewer people turning up to work, facilities open less hours, and other restrictions the rest of the world lived through for 2 years. It is hard to say whether the RMI did the right thing in closing its borders for so long. I do not fault a government for trying to protect its population. I wish them all the best, and may the vaccinations hold the inhabitants of the Marshalls in good stead. 

Finding Nemo

 

It is easy to become ungrounded, especially when living on a speck in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Here one is so remote from the rest of the world; people come and go; policies change and new rules come into effect; one forgets why we came to be stranded out here in the Marshall Islands. The activity that grounds me, when living here in the past, is snorkeling. It is free, just a bike ride away, and can be done anytime of the day. I usually go alone, when the sun is out, but have had great snorkels in the rain as well. I escape from the world into a beautiful underwater paradise, full of colorful fish, corals and exciting rare sightings. I never kept a record, and am sorry to say I didn't even take the time to learn the names of what I saw. I did have one focus... to find something new, or unusual each time. At first it was about reporting back to my sons, who would ask, "See anything good today?" But my curiosity kept me going back for more. There are all kinds of parrot fish, and varieties of trigger fish. Then I would discover octopus dens and clown fish in their anemones, and felt I needed to check up on them regularly like one would a pet. After leaving Kwajalein, for years I could close my eyes and travel again over the reef to the drop off, visiting well known coral heads, and seeing turtles and rays swim beneath me. This is more than my happy place, it is my sense of being grounded, returning me my sense of wonder.

So why did I feel a sense of panic as I swam away from the beach this morning? My fins are in my packout, leaving me slow in the water with just a mask and snorkel.  My last snorkel, off another island in the atoll, brought me up close and personal with sharks. Instead of lying low, one grey reef shark swam right below me, checking me out. As I hurried to get back to the boat, another two white tips came along side me, probably just curious, but certainly giving me a sense of being hunted. The sharks circled the boat for sometime, watching us as we watched them. But then I had fins, and wasn't alone.  This morning I almost turned back to shore because I wasn't willing to take any more risks.

But I didn't... I kept to the shallows and marveled at the colors and shapes of the corals. Three years ago, raging storms caused coral bleaching and breakage. The reef is only now starting to show signs of making a comeback.  I especially miss all the sea anemones waving their tentacles to hide the clown fish inside. The storms must have killed these off as well.  A friendly turtle let me come near and I started to get my confidence back. There was nothing here that would hurt me! I was back to investigating the reef and patiently floating to see what might swim by.  And I did find my clown fish, staying within the safety of a good size anemone! As I watched, the babies darted out, and back in again. One day they will have the courage to go out on their own and find another anemone... might even have to go far.