FIRST CONTACT
First Contact: The capital atoll of Majuro is a place full of paradoxes. I got there worn out and exhausted on a Sunday. It was actually Saturday in my time - crossing the International Date Line hours before had instantly erased the one day I had scheduled for resting and getting my feet on the ground. So much for that.
I left my hotel room and walked to the rocky shore of the lagoon. I still vividly remember looking over the edge, into the water, beholding a site that literally took my breath away. The water was like crystal - liquid glass. I could see with perfect clarity the sandy floor that seemed 30 feet below.
Exotic fish were suspended in the water like glittering jewels. I had never seen such a menagerie of fish, every color, every size. Stripes, spots, long tails. I saw a flying fish skim across the water just moments later. It was hypnotizingly beautiful.
I went for a walk down the main road. The road is quiet on a Sunday afternoon, everyone at home after church or off on a boat to the nearby "picnic islands" where they pass the day. I soon found that the heat in Majuro is a full body experience. I don't know what causes this, but being in Micronesia feels like being woken up from a long night's sleep by having a spotlight trained on your face.
The sunlight penetrates every nook and cranny, and literally blinded me. Sunglasses aren't a fashion statement- they're a survival tool on Majuro. I bought a plastic pair of shades immediately and they never left my side again. I almost cried weeks later when I dropped them on Ebeye and they shattered. I spent the next day and half squinting, until my return to Majuro when I bought a new pair.
As I walked down the road, the beauty of the lagoon and the fish was slowly replaced by Marshallese buildings. The architecture of Majuro represents a steady race between improvised repairs and tropical decay. Balconies on old crumbling buildings were supported by piles of cinder blocks. Houses were surrounded by fences of corrugated tin that seemed like barricades.
I was quickly acquainted with the stray dogs of Majuro. I was watching a group of kids playing in an empty lot between buildings, when we all heard a din of yelping and screeching. I followed kids as they ran across the street to another empty lot where I witnessed my first Marshallese dog fight. This wasn't the kind of suburban-dog, territorial scuffle I was used to.
This was a flat-out, call-of-the-wild, Darwinian struggle to the death involving a pack of strays. There were legs in the air. There were jaws on throats. I was glad to be at a distance. The kids dispersed the dogs by throwing stones. Seeing this was among the most important observations I made during the trip. From then on, I always carried a rock in my hand during my pre-dawn walks. Dogs were aggressive, but very keen to the body language of hurling projectiles.
The rest of the trip would follow this pattern of encountering startling beauty intertwined with disturbing decay. I didn't get in the ocean for the first two weeks, because the crystal clear water was filled with garbage from the city, with diapers, cans and Styrofoam packages floating in the surf.
The nation's economic situation was terribly depressing, but I was inspired by the government officials and economic developers who tackle their nation's problems with undying energy and optimism. While the residents of Ebeye were plagued by health problems and overcrowding, I was amazed at their hospitality and generosity.
It wasn't uncommon to interview a family in their home for an hour before they finally asked: "Now, who are you? What are you doing here?" Though I was a stranger asking personal questions, they never failed to invite me in. During my trip I met some of the best people I have ever encountered, and some of the worst. But after all of it, I know one thing. I look forward to the day when I can once again visit my friends on Majuro, Ebeye and Arno.

BIOGRAPHY
Christopher Leonard was born and raised in Kansas City, MO. In 1998, he graduated from the University of Missouri-Columbia School of Journalism with a bachelor's degree. He joined the Columbia Daily Tribune in 1998, where he covered general news and business for two years. In 2001, Leonard joined the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette, covering business news in Northwest Arkansas. He has covered the area's regional economy, as well as Tyson Foods Inc. and now Wal-Mart Stores Inc. He lives in Fayetteville with his wife JoAnna and his dog Kona.

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