Did it just get wierd in here, or is that just me?

Really weird stuff happens here in the Marshall Islands.

I think that it has something to do with the fact that we are only a few degrees away from the equator. My theory goes something like this: As we are sitting on an island that is situated at the earth’s widest spot, we are spinning faster, which in turn makes normally impossible things run-of-the-mill-normal.

Case-in-point one — glass bottles act like rubber balls.

A few weeks ago my friends Katie, Robbye and I were sitting on the dock, waiting for a boat to take us to the island of Eneko for the night. As we sat there we all saw a glass beer bottle fall from the sky, bounce up off the parking lot, fly over an idling car and skitter to rest a few feet away completely unharmed. By all conventional standards that bottle should have been shattered but it was totally fine. I don’t know what is weirder about this case, the fact that after looking all around none of us could see where in the world this bottle could have dropped from, or the fact that we almost didn’t mention it to each other after it happened.

I think another side-effect of this weirdness is that while you are here, it seems normal.

Case-in-point two — I have super powers.

One day in class my student Bobby told one of his classmates to do something very vulgar to his mother.

“Get up out of your chair Bobby, and come talk to me outside,” I said to him in the sternest voice I have. Bobby didn’t move. “Bobby,” I said, “the whole class will just have to wait until you get up and talk to me outside.” Finally Bobby got up. He knew that he was in big trouble now and tears started pooling in his eyes. “I can’t believe you said that, Bobby, we are going to have to talk with your parents about it.” When I went to open the door to the outside hallway to have my little chat with Bobby a man was standing there.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Can I see Bobby?” the man asked. “I am his father.”

Yep, that is right, it was his father. Through some freak side effect of spinning so fast on the earth’s equator I now have the power to instantly call students’ parents to my door with thought. The rest of the students quaked in their seats.

Case-in-point three — old women fight like professional wrestlers on HBO.

One morning as I was prepping my classroom for the inevitable flood of shoving and shouting that is the sixth grade I heard a commotion outside. I opened my door and looked off the second floor balcony to the field below. There in the grass were two very old ladies, maybe in upwards of 75 years old, and they were vehemently spitting insults at each other like it was a rap battle.

“Everyone get back in class,” I shouted at my students. Reluctantly, heads bowed and feet shuffling, they filed into my class. Then, as I started to close the door on the last student the shouting erupted even louder. I turned around in time to see Old Lady One deck Old Lady Two in the face. Kids from other grades ringed the two ladies and the school-yard brawl was on. It digressed from there into a bunch of hair pulling as two teachers pulled them apart.

I only remembered to tell anyone about it a full three weeks later.

This place makes the impossible seem everyday — if only it could be applied to things like curing cancer instead of making beer bottles into rubber balls, giving me super powers and making old ladies pummel each other.

The love you give comes back in the end.
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