Finally, The Play: "We are such stuff as dreams are made on."

After much anticipation, many hours or practice, lots of scrambling, and many iterations of "bloody hell" and "bugger," the Marshall Islands High School run of Shakespeare's "The Tempest" started three weeks ago, Tuesday, March 8th, and ended the Sunday before last, the 13th.

I am still exhausted from the run.

The play has been, without a doubt, the thing that I am most proud of since I have been here. While I am happy with my achievements with my students, I feel like there is always more work to be done, another student to catch up. With the play, I was able to help see a project from start to finish. There were many instances when the prospects of a good production looked grim, but the final product was stellar. "The Tempest" is Professor Garrod's seventh Shakespearian production at Marshall Islands High School, and, as Garrod himself said, most likely his most relevant. I will allow you to read up on the plot at your own leisure but the setting of the play being on an island and heavy themes of colonized-colonizer make the play echo volumes in the RMI. Initially, I was double cast as Ariel, Prospero's (the lead) fairy servant with another MIHS student named Heron Ante. However, due to family complications and other obligations, Heron was not able to participate in the play and at the juncture when he dropped out, it was too late to recast the role. While at first I was uncomfortable being cast in not only a high school production but a production for a school in which I did not teach, I was informed that the true purpose of my casting was to set an example of dedication and passion on the stage. Garrod also wanted to juxtapose the Marshallese characters with myself and Jonathan Marable '08, a third year returning DVTP teacher who teaches at MIHS. We are both African-American, and Garrod wanted to put American characters in the roles of the spirit servants (John was double cast in the role of Caliban, the unruly monster servant) to create some kind of racial dichotomy while keeping the skin palette dark. I thought that both reasons for my casting were intriguing and noble and so I gladly took on the role.

To be perfectly honest, the play was a huge chafe at first. Garrod, understandably, required a lot of time from his actors, particularly since the play was being put on in such a short amount of time. I was fortunate enough to be cast in a role that was in most scenes in the play, so when specific scenes were called and some actors had the day off, i almost always had to be present. Since the rehearsals ran from 3:45 until near 6 pm every night, I had little time before cooking dinner to do what I needed to do for the day. By the time dinner was over, I was too exhausted to do things that I needed to do for myself (such as look for a job). Another difficulty was the fact that 80% of the play was translated into Marshallese. While this was great news for the students and the Marshallese audience, it was a formidable challenge for me since I had to learn a tremendous amount of Marshallese. Luckily, I had learned the pronunciations of the Marshallese alphabet from my students, so I was able to read through my lines with some level of decency, but learning them was difficult since I did not know all the intricacies of the language, and, for the most part, I was memorizing sounds and not words. To learn a small portion of Marshallese, I had to dedicate days at a time to repetition, whereas the English lines I could learn in a matter of hours.

In addition to acting in the play, I was given the role of associate director, giving counsel to the students as someone who had acted in plays and been in performances for most of my life. It was nice to use the things that I had learned from phenomenal past theater directors--Chiara Klein '10, Josh Feder '08, Michelle Shankar '12--and my Chicago Children's Choir directors--Josephine Lee and Christina Hatherly--to help teach the students how to have presence on stage. Many of the oldest tricks, such as mouthing "watermelon cantaloupe" on stage to make it look like you are talking in silence when you are not the focus of attention on stage, were extremely useful and new to the production and actors in the RMI. Helping direct was definitely a challenge because it took a lot of prompting to get the students to understand their roles as people they needed to embody in thought, word, and deed. They needed to understand motivations in each scene and needed to relate the emotions necessary in each scene to events in their own lives. Another challenge was commitment. The play required diligence that is not required of many of the students in their other activities. Professor Garrod required promptness and vigilant dedication. It was a challenge for the students to remain committed to the times and dates that they promised to so scene work. Many times we had to call actors or fish them from their homes because they forgot or they "were sleeping." This, in addition to a lack of commitment to learning lines immediately, put stressors on the play that were not predictable.

Despite the challenges, the play really came together (as all productions seem to) in the last week or so. When we started rehearsing the play in halves so that the actors could see the production coming together and, as the stage was constructed, excitement built and the students became more and more enthusiastic. Getting the play together at the end was a huge collaborative effort, or, as Garrod so aptly coined, "a miracle of coordination." The stage was built from materials used last year but the backdrop was newly painted by a MIHS student, Helmar Antiok (who also created the awesome t-shirt design). The lighting and sound was all engineered by Peter Satoris '11, who came to help a few weeks after the undergrads arrived. The light board was manned by Max Niedenthal, a 7th grader from a private school in Majuro called Co-Op. Costumes were reused from last year but some new ones, such as mine and Prospero's, were made and organized by Mona Strauss and Biriam Stege. Other member of the MIHS and Majuro community played their part as well, and when opening day came we were ready.

Each day of the play, I went whoever was playing Caliban that day (Jonathan Marable or John Riklon) to John Alefaio's tattoo parlor. He volunteered to draw native Marshallese tattoos on my chest and back each day with permanent marker. He also drew something menacing and monstrous on Caliban each day. I really enjoyed this time hanging out with him in his parlor and learning about tattooing. He is an incredible artist and it was nice to watch him do (a form of) his craft. Afterwards, myself and the Caliban-for-the-day would head to the MIHS library, which, during the production, served as the make-up, costume, and waiting room. There I helped harangue incoming actors and actresses to get into their costumes and directed them to Mandy, Rosa, and Kestrel for make-up. Everyday the boys would refuse to get make-up on. They were afraid that it would make them "look like a girl." They had to put the make-up on so that their physical features would not be washed out by the stage lights and though we explained this to them constantly, they still fought vehemently. It was to no avail since they were made to do it anyway.

Finally, the show started. The first performance went off perfectly, except for the fact that right as we were about to start the second half of the performance, it started to rain. The play was on an open air stage, which very much added to the atmosphere of the show, however, it made performing when it was raining difficult for safety reasons. Finally, the rain started to abate. Unfortunately, the fates were against us because when we were ready to begin, the power went out. We thanked the audience and told them to return for the next showings. The only other performance impediment we had was on Friday, where it rained so much that the audience seating was flooded. We moved the performance to Sunday, and were able to draw crowds so large that that you could not see the ground for the last three days of our show.

As these things tend to go, once the play started, it flew by. Once the stress of the first performance was over, each show went by quicker and quicker. Some of my personal highlights were all of the Trinculo, Stephano, and Caliban scenes which were expertly performed by Kamie Mackphie, Walthy Robert Jr., and John Rikon/Jonathan Marable. In these scenes, the characters are drunken, bumbling idiots, who are attempting to take over the island from Prospero. The audience loved these scenes the most and laughed uproariously every time the three entered the stage. I loved the chemistry between Ferdinand--played by Selvenious Marvin--and Miranda--double cast as Maria John and Wanda Bobo. All three actors carried their parts so well that it seemed as if they truly were in love. Prospero, played by Bate Dismas, was also incredible. Not only did he have the bulk of the lines in the play but his presence carried the entire show. I personally loved my costume as well. The wings in addition to the tattoos made me feel as if I was really signifying the archetype of a native figure. Consequently, in my portrayal of Ariel, a character who is bonded in servitude to Prospero, I did my best to portray the plight of any maligned conquered figure present throughout history--be it Marshallese or African--who is struggling to achieve his or her freedom.

While I was skeptical of the success and purpose of the play, as the production progressed, I saw how important something of this nature was to a place like the RMI. One could argue that it is even more culturally oppressive to put on a Shakespearian, Western canonical production in the Pacific. At its core, the DVTP and WT volunteers are here to teach the Marshallese so that they can get a better grasp on the English language that will enable them to be a player in global politics and so that the Marshallese people are able to access other resources that are not available to them in Marshallese. I believe that bringing such fine and globally appreciated art to the RMI brings the Marshallese people closer to a stronger world view and understanding. I believe that while it would be great for MIHS to put on a Marshallese play that to understand theater one must indulge in the works of the Bard whose work is so prolific and has withstood the test of time because of its universality. And, I believe that the most important thing about a production such as this is that not only are students able to learn about theater, Shakespeare, English, and the world outside of the RMI, they are also able to give that knowledge and experience to their community. I have never seen young children in America running around quoting lines from Shakespeare or even able to tell me the plot of one of his plays. Here, toddlers call me "Ariel" and recite my lines to me on a daily basis. The effect that the play has on the players in the production is tremendous. The changes are visible. Students come in lacking confidence, unable to find their voice in English or Marshallese. They come out with confidence, pride, and a willingness to take chances and make mistakes. It is no coincidence that the cast is full of leaders at MIHS, all of whom have been in previous productions. I do not know if it is that leaders are made from involvement in the play, those who are natural leaders are drawn to be in the production, or both, but there is definitely a relationship. My hope is that the students took something intellectual from the experience as well; that someone who was watching or in the play was made to consider the relationship that the conquered has with the conquerer or to even more simply consider what ownership and dominance really mean. While the moral of the play is that "The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance" (5.1.28-29), I think that these are the themes that are the most important to the people here.

Jack Niedenthal, head of accounts for the Bikinian people, wrote a rave review in the play, saying that, "In my humble opinion,as a seasoned veteran of all sever of the MIHS/Youth Bridge Shakespeare plays over the years, this ["The Tempest"] was easily the best production." He complimented all involved parties and, flatteringly, he wrote that I, "was magic and made he play go beyond just a stage production. [...} This was the character who made us leave ourselves and soar, which to me is the mark of success for any talented actor or well-performed play: They make you feel as if you are literally not 'here' anymore." Not to toot my own horn, but I was very proud of the praise. (The review can be found in the Marshall Islands Journal, V. 42, No. 11, pgs. 16 and 17)

The interns and Garrod left the Monday after the last show. Their departure was overwhelming. It was combined with a cast party where the students sang, danced, and presented gifts to all of us. At the end, they put on a skit, mocking each of us (I was aptly teased for always twisting my hair). Each of the interns received a grand send off from their individual students as well. I am certain that they will always remember their time here and will not be soon forgotten.

I will never forget the first night of the production, crouching on stage in act 3 scene 2, lightly playing my tabor and listening to Caliban, played by John Riklon at the time, comforting Trinculo as he panicked as a result of the sounds and spirits on the island. Caliban states, in beautiful prose:

Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again. And then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked
I cried to dream again. (3.2.129-137)

During that recitation, as we performed under the night sky, I looked up at the stars, contemplated the fears that I had when I first came to Majuro that have now dissolved into part of the "thousand twangling instruments" of this isle, and realized that I had come to love this place like home.

Ten more weeks and I will wake up from the dream.

Bar lo kom,

Andrew

PS: For more information on Professor Garrod's organization, Youth Bridge Global, that puts on this production and productions elsewhere, please refer to their website: www.ybglobal.org

PSS: Many of you contacted me and expressed concern about the tsunami that came across the Pacific after the tragic earthquake in Japan. Everything here was fine and the wave passed over without so much as a ripple. Please keep the people of Japan in your prayers and best thoughts.

The Dreaded February Slump

From the very beginning of this experience, as early as orientation at the end of senior year, we were warned of the "February Slump." I was always confused about the idea. I had been away from home many times (though, granted, not for this long or this far away) and was not too worried about becoming homesick. I understood how one would feel homesick around the holidays and how one could be eager to return home as one neared the end of the experience, but the other traits of the February Slump-depression, exhaustion, disinterest-seemed aggressive to me.

But here we are, a week into March, and I can tell you that the February Slump is a real thing. In the middle of the month, I had a moment where I was moping around Majuro and I stopped and said out loud, "Oh my God, it's happening!" I think this slump is the result of the culmination of a lot of different things. February is a strange time of year regardless of the volunteer-experience-in-another-country thing. It is not the first month of the new year, and thus is not the first month of the new quarter, and as a result, the students have started to become a bit restless again. I reported before that my students had been behaving poorly, but their behavior became a HUGE problem during February. This was not just the case in my classroom, but in Mandy's class and, seemingly, the entirety of Majuro Middle School. My classroom management technique--diving the class into teams and giving or taking points based on achievement and behavior--did not phase the students at all. Mandy had the same failure with her own technique. Despite taking off 5, 10, or 50 points, the students continued to behave badly. The issues were simple ones. I kept repeating the same rules and expectations that I had had since the beginning of the year: do not talk when others are talking, stay in your seat, do not throw things across the classroom, respect school property. It was as if I had never given these rules. I began to send students to the office with little warning. I had a week that I termed my "mean week" where I took no nonsense. I stated my expectations and if they were broken students were sent to the office. I do not know how I was perceived by the office, but between Mandy and I, we kept them extremely busy.

Shipping kids off to the office frequently helped in the short run, but the effects were month long. I am sad to say that lost my motivation. While I recognized that I had taught my students a lot of information and that i loved every opportunity that I was given to impart knowledge to my students, I lost interest in teaching THESE students. While the classroom used to be fun, the teaching had become so routine that the classroom had become a big daycare, and I was the only babysitter. This was not what I wanted from this teaching experience, or any teaching experience, as much of a reality as it might be in schools all around the world. I had planned on starting my MMS acapella group this term, but the behavior made me not want to do anything extra for the students. To infuriate me further, I noticed that this behavior was specially reserved for me and that the students were veritable angels for their other, Marshallese, teachers. One day, at the peak of my frustration, I candidly asked the students, "Why do you act this way with me? Is it because I am a ribelle?" Some of them solemnly shook their heads, "Yes." At first I was extremely insulted and felt almost discriminated against by my students. Thankfully, Dan Moore '10 put the response into context for me. He reminded me that I had told him many times about the nature of some of the other Marshallese teachers, how their classrooms where based much more on route memorization and regurgitation and that there was little room for free thought and personal expression in their classes. He suggested that I take it as a sign of respect that they felt as if they could be themselves and be vocal in my class. I took this advice to heart but added that while I wanted to be able to provide a space where the students feel as if they can be themselves, I also want them to be able to be disciplined, since, I have learned, it is an important part of growing up.

During a conversation during 31 Club on Thursdays, I got to the heart of the problem. As I said, I am proud that my students have learned so much from me. But, after having been here for 8 months, I have learned that teaching life lessons, like discipline and respect, is more important than any academic lessons that I can teach. I am even more proud of the fact that the majority of my students now turn in their homework than they actually understand what their homework entails. It was my failure to imbue my students with these life lessons that depressed me about my classroom.

Another thing that made February somber was the departure of Joanna Dai, another one of my Bungalow housemates. She was also feeling the pressure of February, and because of some health inconsistencies and other frustrations, she decided to leave. Jokingly, Mandy and I said months ago that the dorm would end up just being us by the end of the experience, mostly based on the fact that we were the only two people that spent any time outside of our rooms together in the house. Unfortunately, our prediction came true. This was a big blow to the both of us, since the house was finally empty and was a clear sign of things coming to an end. Joanna will be dearly missed from our household.

All of these things, compounded with the growing commitment of the play, made the month of February extremely challenging. I found that each day I only had an hour or so to myself before having to do things for others. I talked to my parents at one point during this hysteria and said, "I don't know how you do this whole adult thing." Their smart rejoinder was, "Now think of doing this for 30 some years and add children." I was immediately apologetic for any trouble I had given them through the years!

While February was hard, it is now March, and things have definitely turned for the better. While my students are not behaving as ideally as I would like, they are behaving markedly better than they were before. The play, while still a large commitment, has come to a head (we had our first night last night, and it was amazing, despite not being able to perform the second half on account of the rain and, subsequently, a power outage) and has become wonderful again. And while the Joanna situation is still sad, having the undergrads here has been great distraction from the empty house (two of them are living in the dorm for the time being). Though, when they leave, Mandy and I will have to deal with being our only company--for real this time.

Bar lo kom,

Andrew