The First Delegation of Bikinians to go to Washington, DC, and a trip to the Australian Outback as described by Nathan Note to Jack Niedenthal, June 1988 [Note: Nathan died in June of 2004].
Lobbying various U.S. government officials and representatives has become a way of life for the leaders of the people of Bikini, and this has been the case for quite some time. This rigorous travel and lobbying schedule the Bikinians maintain peaked in the year of 1988, my first full year as a Bikini Liaison. That was by far their most intense year of travel: it felt as if I had spent that entire 12 months in an airplane. By the end of the year I was a Continental One Pass Gold and United Mileage Plus Executive club member, had frequent flier cards for 4 other airlines, and had either completely ruined or lost several taxi-tested tough, hard-shell Samsonite suitcases.
During this one year, delegations of various Bikinians made several visits to Washington, D.C. to lobby various Congressmen and their staffers; to Las Vegas, Nevada to tour the Nuclear Test Site; to the Academy Awards in Hollywood because a film about the Bikinians and the 1946 Operation Crossroads atom bomb tests, entitled Radio Bikini, had been nominated for Best Documentary; to Tokyo, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, Japan for the 43rd Anniversary World Conference for a Nuclear Free World; and to the Emmy Awards in New York City because yet another documentary about the Bikinians, Nuclear Exiles, which had been produced by the National Geographic Explorer series, had been nominated for Best Feature Documentary. Also in 1988 then Mayor Juda, the late Senator Balos and I met with U.S. Secretary of State George Schultz when he visited the Marshall Islands in July. 1988 was also the year that the U.S. government awarded the Bikinians the $90 million to be used for the radiological cleanup of Bikini and Eneu islands of Bikini Atoll. The most unusual event of that year, however, was our visit with the Maralingan aborigines who inhabit the Great Australian Outback.
The idea for our journey found its genesis when a Maralingan aborigine, Archie Barton, from Central Australia, and an official from the Australian Office of Aboriginal Affairs, Graham Knill, visited the Bikinians on Kili Island early in 1988 to discuss the similarities of their people's respective plights.
[photo right: Nathan Note in the Outback of Australia, 1988]
The aborigines had been moved from their homelands in the 1950's so that England could test their nuclear weapons. At the time of our visit they had been kept off their homelands, without compensation, since their original exodus from Maralinga. As with the testing on Bikini, many people--specifically, aborigines and British and Australian military personnel--were exposed to radioactive fallout from these blasts.
Prior to moving forward with the testing, British government officials sent out one man in a jeep to locate hundreds of aboriginal people, all of whom were spread out and wandering over 100,000 square kilometers of the south central Australian desert. The man's mission was to warn the aborigines that they should depart immediately from the area because of the scheduled nuclear weapons tests to be held in their desert lands.
Of course it was impossible for the one man to alert everyone adequately. After a series of tests, code named Buffalo, they found an aboriginal family, the Milpuddies and their pet dog, sleeping in one of the craters which had been formed only days before by a nuclear explosion. The military officials who discovered them threw them into a jeep, sped with them to an army camp, forced them naked into showers, shot their dog, and began testing them for radiation sickness. Many other aborigines were also exposed; indeed, the aborigines called the phenomenon of the nuclear blasts, after standing by witnessing some of the explosions, the "Days of the Black Mist."
The major purpose for our visit with the Maralingans was to help them in their efforts to lobby the English and Australian governments [each of whom at the time pointed to the other as the responsible party for compensating the aborigines] for a resettlement and cleanup trust fund. Concurrently, the Bikinians were hoping that exposure to the world press would speed along their own negotiations with the U.S. Congress which were still at that time in progress.
For our small delegation of 6 people, the trip was exhausting. First we had to fly all day to the islands of Kiribati where we spent one night. After sleeping in a four room hotel, which was located beside a disco that played a total of five, volume-distorted Funky Town-like songs over the course of a very long evening, we embarked early the next morning on a flight, that lasted all day, to the then politically chaotic, coup d'état-torn Fijian Islands. We spent another night there. On the third day of the trip we flew into Melbourne, Australia.
The next day, while still in Melbourne, Mayor Juda and I did an interview that appeared that day on Australian Broadcasting Company news. After the interview, on this fourth long day, we traveled by plane to Adelaide in South Australia. Upon entering the terminal of the airport, we were confronted by men with TV cameras--with the accompanying bright lights used for the illumination of their subjects--and several newspaper reporters. Instantly forgetting our goal for the trip, which was media coverage, our delegation hurried off to one side thinking that perhaps some important government official was planning to disembark the plane on which we had just arrived. To our horror the cameras swung around and pointed at us. One strange looking man with a thick moustache asked which Bikinian was Tomaki Juda. Though we were a bit overwhelmed, we did the interviews as requested, then we retired to yet another small hotel room.
Finally, on the fifth consecutive day of air travel (this time on a tiny, six passenger plane), we landed in Maralinga via a connecting flight which we boarded in the small town of Ceduna. Following us into the tiny Maralingan airport (a strip of hard-packed dirt which had never before accommodated more than one airplane at a time) was an additional plane and a car full of media people. Our delegation disembarked from the aircraft.
We looked around the desolate, dry landscape. As we walked along a dirt path, we came upon a dozen young, shirt-less, dust-coated aborigine children who were frolicking happily on a large mound of dirt. When they spied us strolling along the path, they all screamed out: "Hey, come have a look!"
With some hesitation, we approached the hill. Screaming with joy, the dark, curly haired, dust-covered youngsters jumped onto pieces of plywood and rode down a long, white plastic pipe to the bottom of a wide hole. The uninhibited excitement of the children was funny to watch; they made me, at least, feel more at ease in the strange setting. The Bikinians, on the other hand, all of whom I had thought just loved to travel anywhere for any reason, kept asking me when we were going home. The Outback, apparently, was just a bit too rustic for their tastes.
As we stood around in our group, unsure of where to go or what to do, some of Maralingan elders, who were relaxing nearby under a scraggly old tree, called us over to them. With some reluctance we sat down in a circle of several men. They spoke sort of a pigeon English that was hard for us to understand, and, even though they were probably told, they seemed to have no idea as to why we were there or who we were. Their old men had long gray beards and wore very tattered clothes and hats. Despite their ragged appearance, however, they gave the impression that they were quietly looking straight through our souls.
I studied the small circle that was a mix of islanders and aborigines: As we sat around trying to figure out just what was up with all this, I thought about how this grouping personified the tragedies that can result when larger nations, in their unquenchable struggle to become even more powerful, show callous disregard toward a smaller country and the ancient human life that resides within its borders.
After spending a few moments recounting our respective tales of exodus (I, in one of the most awkward moments of my life, became by default a sort of go between and ice breaker for the meeting of the two markedly diverse groups of people), we met again with the press.
Later, as we curiously meandered through the main section of the nomadic community, an old bearded Maralingan guide led the delegation to a place where a family was cooking a kangaroo. The once lively beast had only its charcoal blackened paws visible because the rest of the body was baking slowly in an underground oven. Several of the old gray haired women sat together in one small house and wove belts made from human hair. I had never experienced simultaneous culture shock with someone from another country: The Bikinians had the same looks on their faces that I did, i.e., this is really, really different.
During our short visit to the Australian Outback, we stayed in a government building located a few miles from the village. Two jolly Australian government officials were in charge of running the outpost. At the end of our first day with the aborigines, in the evening, over tea, I mentioned to Nathan Note, a Bikinian alap who is in his seventies, how tiring the whole episode of dealing with the media, the airplane rides and the translating was becoming for me. He surprised me by laughing at my comment and stating that I didn't know what "being tired" was.
I thought about his comment for a moment as I studied the contents of the room. Nathan and I sat alone at a large table which was surrounded by fifteen, comfortable yellow-colored padded chairs. Beside the dart board that hung on the wall was a shelf that contained about 20 table games: Scrabble, Clue, Risk, Yatzee and others. The boredom of the lonesome desert obviously demanded a serious gaming attitude. The living room had been painted a screaming, fluorescent green: I am sure a lot of expensive psychological studies had gone into that entire setup, it certainly had me agape.
In those first years of my travels with the Bikinians, Nathan and I quite often shared a room. We had something in common: his culture interested me as much as mine interested him. Our discussions were always very deep and time consuming, and sometimes very funny as they just dripped in sarcasm. He held a firm and proud belief that Marshallese society was superior to all others: I found it entertaining to try to convince him otherwise.
In response to his earlier, curiously phrased comment, I said, "So I guess you are about to tell me what being tired is."
Nathan took another sip from his tea, and stated, "I was part of the first Bikinian delegation to make the 16 hour flight to Washington, D.C. from the Marshall Islands. You should listen to this story, then you will have a reference point for your agony."
Nathan is a handsome man: a better than average guess would probably have gauged him at that time to be in his mid to late fifties. He was seventy-four. His mind back then was so, so sharp, logic driven and astute; his eyes piercing and alert. He is taller than most Marshallese men, and even though an elder, his body was lean and hard in those days. Many times during our visits to Bikini, I had witnessed him casually hoist a weighted, 12-foot throw net, and then cast it through the air and into the lagoon upon an unsuspecting school of fish. It is a skill which requires timing, strength and endurance.
"How did it come about that, all of a sudden in the early 1970's, a Bikinian delegation found it necessary to travel to America?"
Without a reply, Nathan stood up and walked over to a table in the adjoining kitchen. He looked around for something for us to munch on. He paused to laugh at the huge, six-foot-tall stuffed gorilla that the station workers had propped upright on the chair at the kitchen table. Nathan punched at the hairy monstrosity and chuckled again: I remember him glancing back at me as if to say: "See, more evidence that you ri-bellies are completely nuts." He filled a plate with an assortment of sugar cookies, returned to the living room and sat down beside me. He offered me his plate. I pulled out my tape recorder.
NATHAN NOTE: "Okay Jack, here's the story. I hope that I am able to provide all the details with accuracy because this tale is of great value to our people. You, as a Liaison, should know about this event. I should remind you that this trip to Washington occurred many years ago. Now, I am a much older man. The journey that we made was very important, not just for the Bikinian people, but for the entire area of what was known before the Compact of Free Association as the Trust Territory."
"Why does the story have 'great value' for the Bikinian people?"
"Because it involved the High Commissioner's office, the counsel for the High Com [an abbreviation used for High Commissioner by many islanders], the Deputy Administrator for the High Com, the Marshall Islands government and, of course, the U.S. government and a wide array of its officials. And also because it occurred during the early seventies when the return to Bikini was being discussed as a result of President Johnson's statement that the islands no longer posed a threat to our health.
"To travel and speak before U.S. Congressmen also enlarges the meaning of this journey. It had a lot of importance for everyone involved. At the time that we decided to make the effort to take this particular trip, it should be understood, there was absolutely no money available for us to use. For this reason, I should take some time to explain how and why this trip came about.
"After the year of 1946, in fact, until the time of this trip in the early 1970's, U.S. government officials had used Bikini Atoll for what ever purposes they wanted. Mainly our twenty-six islands were used to test the firing capabilities of newly discovered nuclear weapons and to test the radiation levels that resulted from the fallout of the atomic bombs. The nuclear weapons tested by the U.S. military mostly affected three other atolls in the Marshalls: Rongelap, Utirik and Enewetak. And even though the Trust Territory government knew that these islands were affected by the weapons testing, they were constantly attempting to figure out ways to get the people of our islands back to their homelands. The T.T. [an islander abbreviation for the Trust Territory government] had developed and formulated several plans for our people to return to their respective islands. When I heard of these rehabilitation and resettlement plans, especially for those people of the other three atolls [Rongelap, Utirik and Enewetak] I was on Ailinglaplap Atoll living with my family. Very early in 1970, I went to Kwajalein Atoll to attend and help organize a Jaren Radek Dron [women's church group] meeting that was going to be held there. That was when I saw several Bikinian elders and their reverend from Kili Island; they were accompanying their women who were also attending the meeting.
"The men told me that I had been requested by the Bikinian magistrate, Lore Kessibuki, to go to Kili Island and help their Council with some decisions that had to be made regarding Bikini. They said that the Bikini Council wanted me to accompany a delegation that was to go to Saipan [in the Northern Mariana Islands] with Oscar DeBrum. He is a Marshallese man who was the U.S. Government District Administrator to the Marshall Islands. This delegation included myself, Lore, Moses and Taro [three Bikinians who were living on Kili]. This was before the Bikinians on Kili had begun to receive USDA surplus food, and though we were going to make this an issue in Saipan, we assumed that the main reason for traveling there was because the counsel for the High Com had sent word to us that some funds had been made available for us to distribute among ourselves.
"After we arrived on Saipan, however, there arose a misunderstanding about the use of the money. We thought that it was to be a per capita distribution to all the people, but the T.T. wanted it to be used for supplementing our diet. After a lengthy debate, our delegation finally agreed to this idea. The success of this short trip led to the idea for another journey--one that would change the Bikinian's lives, and my own, forever."
Nathan paused to sip his tea. He looked over at the stuffed ape in the kitchen, and asked, "Why did they put that thing in there?"
In the course of fulfilling my duties as a Liaison, I am frequently called upon by the islanders to elaborate on the reasoning behind the occasional and nonetheless bizarre behavioral quirks of Western man. In an attempt to respond to Nathan's query, I spent a long moment gazing at the immense stuffed animal that was sitting at the table. I thought, now just where am I supposed to go with this one? I had been in the Marshalls for 7 years at that point and the islands were beginning to show their influence on my mind: I replied, "I have no idea."
He shook his head, returned to his story: "Shortly after the delegation had returned from Saipan the Bikinians chose me to be the Secretary/Treasurer for the Council replacing Jukwa Jakeo. I assumed this office. I began working long, hard hours with the Council on a host of problems that were now confronting our people concerning the issue of returning to Bikini. Indeed, it was during this period that the United States, through the T.T. government, began trying to convince the Bikinians who were living on Kili to return to Bikini Atoll because they believed our islands were now radiologically safe and ready for rehabilitation.
"The U.S. was really putting a tremendous amount of pressure on us also to return to our islands as soon as possible. The Bikinians at that time were extremely excited about making a return. The reason? Because the AEC was making pronouncements to our people saying that Bikini was now safe, that the 'poison' was no longer on Bikini Atoll, and that the people could return any time they wished and need not worry themselves about any threats resulting from radiation exposure. Now, from the time I arrived on Kili and began living there, I never believed a word of this nonsense. I kept telling our people that it was not yet time to go back to Bikini because the reports that we were receiving were not all that convincing."
Knowing how the culture works, especially when it involves going against what the rest of your relatives want to do, I asked, "Nathan, didn't your family jump all over you for the position that you were taking concerning the return to Bikini?"
Nathan leaned back in his chair and laughed. "Yes, I took a lot of heat from my aunts, uncles, brothers, sisters and some other close relatives of mine. Why? Because they wanted so desperately to believe that Bikini was safe. They wanted so badly to return to their islands because they hated Kili as if it were a prison--certainly with good reason--because it had no lagoon, it had an inadequate supply of local food and was very small. I remained skeptical about this 'good news' which was coming from the Americans. I had made a trip to Bikini with the scientists. There were many times when I would become confused by their very technical explanations about this 'invisible poison' that they were describing to us. This confusion led to an uncertain feeling that I began to get about these men. My own intuition told me not to believe what the scientists were telling us. I knew the 'completed' radiological cleanup that they were talking about could not be true. How many nuclear weapons had they detonated on Bikini? Twenty three? And here they were telling us that they cleaned that mess up in a matter of months?"
This was vintage Nathan Note: he had the outlook of a skeptic, even when everyone around him had been overwhelmed by the vision of a happy return to their traditional way of life on Bikini. Curious about his defiance, I asked, "How did you manage to convince others of your beliefs?"
"My intuition really made me worry later when I realized that I alone was going to be unable to convince our people that Bikini was unsafe. I decided that I had to sit down with our leader and magistrate, Lore Kessibuki, and our judge, Moses Lewis, to try to make them agree with my ideas. The T.T. had already proposed a plan that would send ships to Kili, on-load all of our people and their belongings, and then take them to Bikini. I expressed to them my firm belief that I didn't think we should go back to our islands. I also explained about my fears upon seeing that the people on Kili, filled with an overwhelming desire to live on Bikini again, were already preparing their clothes and other items for the journey--without even thinking of the consequences if their decision to return turned out to be a bad one."
"Why were the people of Bikini so eager to return to their islands?"
"Everyone at that time wanted to go back because they longed to see their homeland again; and they were so tired of Kili. They didn't want to be rational, they just blindly wanted to return to Bikini as soon as possible. I pleaded with Lore and Moses to ask the Council to send a delegation to Majuro to get the facts firsthand from our own national leaders before deciding to send the people back to Bikini. Fortunately, my worries penetrated their monumental joy. They decided to send myself, Lore and Moses to Majuro in an attempt to get some further clarifications on Bikini's radiological status.
"We went to Majuro by ship, and upon disembarking, we went immediately to find [Marshallese] Senator Ataji Balos, a member of the national government. We found him. We sat down together and we took some time explaining to him about the issues that the Bikinians now had to face. Mainly, how the T.T. government was planning to return the Bikinians to their islands; and how the Bikini Council had its doubts about the proposal. Ataji told us unequivocally not to go along with this plan because he felt that it was not quite clear to him how safe Bikini truly was. He told us that it was not the time to pack our belongings and make ready for a return to our islands. He recommended that we wait awhile to see if the explanations received by us from the T.T. government were any better than those that we were hearing on an unofficial basis. We asked Ataji: 'how could we do this? We had already heard that the T.T. government was making preparations for ships to take us back. Also, we had already mentioned to the T.T. that we were ready to go back. Wouldn't this be a problem?' It was then that Ataji began suggesting that we should, indeed, fly to Washington, D.C. in order to resolve this problem directly with officials of the U.S. government.
"After this suggestion was agreed upon by myself, Moses and Lore, Ataji asked me if we had any money to finance the trip. I slowly replied, 'No.' I thought that my answer would be the end to all possibilities. He replied optimistically that a small amount of money was all we needed to make the journey. He suggested that we query the larger businesses on the island and see if they could possibly help us out.
"At that time there were four big companies on island: Robert, Bilimon, Adjirik and Moulik. We went to each of them and heard the same reply, that there was nothing they could do for us. Ataji then suggested that we petition the Marshall Islands government for help. He said that if we wanted him to help put the question forward, he would do so gladly. Moses, Lore and I agreed with Ataji, and then went directly to the government. We talked to the Speaker, Atlan Anien, and explained to him why we needed an estimated $7,000 in order to make this trip. We told him exactly what the money would be used for, and the reasons for traveling to Washington, D.C. Speaker Anien thought it was a good idea. He told us to go ask Atjang Paul, Namu Hermious and Jiten Anjain to come to his office. We went and found those senators. We brought them to the Speaker's office.
"We had a long meeting during which all the issues were reviewed. The senators requested that the national government appropriate the $7,000 required for our trip. The resolution quickly passed.
"The next morning Ataji found me and told me that the bill had passed on the second reading the night before. We were overjoyed at the news. Ataji then told us to go pack our suitcases and prepare for the trip."
"Was there opposition shown toward your plan from any Marshallese officials?"
"Oh, yes. Possibly because Oscar DeBrum had told the T.T. government of our plan, he and Dwight Heine, Consultant to the High Com from the Marshall Islands, came to us and requested that we meet together to discuss our idea for the trip to Washington, D.C. Dwight told us that we shouldn't make the trip. He explained that the men of these islands were less intelligent than the rest of the islanders who were under the jurisdiction of the T.T. He said that the other islanders were more educated than we were, and that many of them had a wide variety of college degrees. He suggested that whenever they had a problem with the U.S., or had a need to discuss an issue with officials in Washington, D.C., they went to the Congress of Micronesia and asked them to handle it for them. The presentation would then be made, by their representatives, in the forum where the questions from the all islands under the T.T. government would be stated at one time in a hearing room in Washington, D.C. Dwight told us that if we went off on our own, and expressed our needs to the Americans, we would be unsuccessful. They too tried to prevent us from making our trip."
"But you went ahead with your plans anyway?"
"Yes," Nathan happily exclaimed, "we left for Washington amid all the controversy and the continuous, endless attempts that were still being made to prevent us from going--even though we didn't as yet have the money promised to us by the government. Our airline tickets were purchased with Ataji's credit card. I was in charge of writing down everything that we charged on it because we believed our expenses would be reimbursed.
"We flew to Honolulu, where we arrived early the next morning. It was still dark. We slept in the airport until about 10 a.m. the next morning waiting for our connecting flight to Washington. I still remember how uncomfortable we were. There was no time to shop for the nice clothes that we should have had for meeting important people in Washington, D.C. None of us had suits or ties. We didn't have warm clothes, coats or shoes. In fact, we were all wearing zoris. I was just wearing trousers and an old, light pullover jersey that I had borrowed from someone on Kili. I recall being terribly cold during the entire trip to the east coast.
"We departed Honolulu and landed in San Francisco at night. We had to wait at the gate for about two or three hours for a connecting flight to Washington. We were so cold that it was painful; but the worst feeling was the one of hopelessness. I remember looking at Lore and worrying about him because he was weakened tremendously by the cool weather. His face and lips were blue, though it wasn't much different with Moses and me. I remember shivering, shivering, shivering. But Ataji! We were quite surprised by that man, because the cold seemed not to bother him. He had the same type of clothes on as we had, but he remained calm, collected and he seemed, somehow, to stay warm!"
Nathan interrupted his story and requested that I go and bring back some more cookies and tea. I stood up and walked into the kitchen. I paused beside the giant stuffed animal, lifted the fake beast up and shook it around. The gorilla wore a little blue polka-dotted hat, dark sunglasses covered its eyes, and its only clothing was a pair of gym shorts. The stuffed monkey must have weighed fifty or sixty pounds. I flung it back into the chair and returned to the living room with another plate of snacks and a pot of freshly brewed, hot tea.
Nathan proceeded with his story: "After flying throughout the night we landed very early the next morning in Washington, D.C. The pilot announced to us that, outside, it was 60 degrees. We could see that it wasn't snowing, but a fine rain was falling. It was very windy. As we walked through the airport, we started to get chills again. We boarded a taxi that took us into town, then we checked into a hotel."
"What did you do during your first day in the Capital?"
Nathan said laughingly, "We slept for almost the entire day."
After a pause, and after becoming a bit more somber, the old man recommenced his story with a clarification, "However, Ataji did wake us for a brief period in the afternoon so we could all listen-in on a call that we had put through to the High Com liaison office. The officials working in that office became very upset when they discovered that we had arrived in Washington, D.C. They yelled at Ataji and said, 'Who requested that you men come here? Are you people coming here to create problems for us?' Ataji told them that we weren't here to cause problems for them, but that we were here to help them and to work together with them in order to resolve the conflicts and concerns of the Bikinian people as quickly as possible. They softened a bit and answered that if this was truly the reason for our being in Washington, then it was perfectly okay with their office.
"Our ragged, tiny delegation felt relieved upon hearing these words, and so we immediately requested a time to meet together. But the men at the liaison office told us that we would probably have to wait three or four days before all of the hearings, that were in progress, were concluded. We explained that we had made this journey specifically to appear at those hearings. But, they said that it just wasn't possible because we weren't on the schedule of speakers who were to testify. Disappointed, we agreed to wait for a few days.
"Ataji hung up the phone, turned to us and said that it didn't matter that the High Com people wouldn't meet with us, we could still meet directly with some American Congressmen and attempt to educate and lobby them. The people on Kili had sent some Kili baskets along with us just for this purpose. [A Kili basket is made by weaving the white strips of dried pandanus leaves using a six pack of cola as a mold.] We decided to try to meet first with the Congresswomen from Hawaii, Patsy Mink."
"When did you go to see her?"
"The very next day--and without an appointment. We went straight to her office and asked her secretary, who was at the front door of her office, if we could see Ms. Mink for a minute. The secretary went and asked the Congresswomen if we could be permitted to come in, and to our great surprise and happiness, she allowed us into her office. We felt very fortunate that we were able to see her. We knew right from the beginning that she, if anyone, would understand about the problems that the people of Bikini were having with the T.T. government because she was from our part of the world."
[photo left: Nathan Note, Lore Kessibuki, Moses Lewis 1972]
"So, never having visited anyone in Washington before, you just walked into her office? How did she treat you?"
"Her very first question was, 'Why, when the Trust Territory government feels that your islands are now safe and therefore desires that the Bikinians move back to Bikini, do you people hesitate at the suggestion, and not want to return?' Ataji answered for us and said, 'We weren't satisfied with the scientific reports about the radiation levels on Bikini. In fact, every time we asked for more detailed information about our islands, the Americans didn't seem to have the ability to present us with any facts that made the situation more explainable.' Patsy Mink sat back in her chair comfortably and talked to us a great length, and though I couldn't understand everything that she was saying, I had the feeling that she really wasn't taking us too seriously. I had this feeling in my gut that perhaps the effort that we were making here in Washington was a big waste of time.
"She confirmed my exasperated feelings when she told us at the end of our session together that, indeed, there wasn't too much she could do for us. As we stood I could feel her eyes upon our very dejected souls; so it wasn't a total surprise to me when she suddenly asked us not to leave. 'Perhaps,' she said, 'there is something I can do.'
"Patsy Mink sat down, picked up her telephone and started making calls to some U.S. Senators and officials from the House of Representatives. She just kept dialing, talking, sighing, smiling at us and putting the phone back into its cradle. We could tell that these important people that she was talking with were agreeing to meet with us! Finally she stopped telephoning and said to us, 'You're lucky! All of these representatives of the U.S. government have agreed to meet you! In fact, they are all, indeed, very anxious to meet you. But I want you to go see one Congressman in particular first. His name is Philip Burton. He has an office on the top floor of this building and he said that you men can go right up.' The four of us exited her office elated that we had met with some success. At least now we had our feet in the doors of some very important officials of the American government.
"We rode the elevator to the top floors and found the office that we were looking for and went inside. We met Adrian Winkle, Philip Burton's assistant at the door. He told us to come in. He made some coffee for us and requested that we sit down and explain the reason for our being there.
"Ataji took quite some time to explain the worries, needs and desires of the Bikinian people to Winkle. Ataji requested that Winkle communicate our concerns to Philip Burton. Then, as we stood up to leave and return to our hotel, Philip Burton himself came out of his office. He immediately shook our hands and queried Winkle as to why these old men were visiting his office. Winkle referred to his notes and told Philip Burton all the reasons that we had discussed for our being there. And, he explained what exactly we wanted to see resolved during our stay in Washington.
"Burton then said that he sympathized with the Bikinian people and understood exactly what we wanted to see happen. He explained that he had been a Congressman for quite some time and that his opinion was held in high regard among the other Congressmen of the U.S. government and, in fact, most of the time when he favored a bill and voted for it, so did the rest of his colleagues. He said, 'I want to say something to you gentlemen at this time and I want you to remember it forever--even though it may not sound to you men like I am expressing anything of importance. What I want to say is this: Yes, I am going to help you Bikinians resolve your problems with the U.S. government. You men can absolutely have my word on that.'"
"How did you react to his remark?"
"His statement filled us with euphoria," Nathan said as he paused to reflect for a moment. Then, he laughed.
"What's so funny?"
"After Burton made that comment, I noticed that he was glancing at his watch. He told us that he had to attend his daughter's birthday party. Before leaving, he asked Winkle to address a letter to the Department of Interior telling them that he was 100% in agreement with what the Bikinians were requesting, and that whatever needs to be done in order to achieve these desires, should be followed up as soon as possible.
"He said good-by to us and we returned to our hotel. During the rest of our stay in Washington our telephone was ringing constantly. Officials were calling us from the U.S. government to ask us further questions about the Bikinians. Ring, Ring, Ring--all day long. From all this activity we became confident that our requests had been passed along to the right people."
"Did your demands meet with any response?"
"Once our questions had been formally put forth, we began asking for some form of compensation for the Bikinians. Similarly, we wanted an agreement to take back to our people to prove that there was something in the works which was being done for us. It was very apparent, however, that the U.S. didn't want to produce anything formal at that time. Our delegation decided to wait in Washington, and even though we were totally out of money, we were able to hold out for more than a month.
"It seemed that every time an official from the U.S. government would call, they would anxiously ask us: 'When were we planning to leave the country?' Our standard answer to this question was: 'We would stay forever; unless, of course, we could have some form of an agreement to take back to our people.' They were also curious to know whether or not our funds had arrived. They understood that we were still waiting for the money that had been appropriated by the government in the Marshall Islands. We could only reply that we were 'still waiting.' We made it understood that even if we received the funds from the Marshalls Islands government, we were still going to stay until we had something to show for our visit."
"Did you meet with any other officials from the U.S. government?"
"We held talks with as many officials as possible. Eventually it became clear to us that, while everyone sympathized with our plight, no one seemed to want to take responsibility for helping us. First we would go to (I think it was) the Pentagon, and after some handshaking and a short dialog, they would send us to some Congressional staff members. Then these people would put us through the same routine; and send us off to Department of Interior officials. Round and round and round we went. Three times we went to the same place. We were asking all of these officials only one question, 'What agency or department was going to be responsible for helping us?' I still remember that when we went to the Pentagon the final time we became frightened because they were about to have an important meeting or something and there were many soldiers, all with stars and medals glistening on their hats and on their neatly pressed uniforms. They quickly shuffled us away with their final words of advice: 'We should return to the Marshall Islands and let others here in America work things out.' They told us to submit a proposal on a piece of paper so that they could know what the specific requests were in black and white.
"Dismayed, we went back to the hotel. Ataji called a lawyer friend of his, who then recommended another attorney for us, to help us work on the requests that were to be put before the U.S. government. We worked hard on that proposal and the lawyer who guided us provided his services free of charge.
"After submitting the proposal to the Department of Interior, we asked them to help us put pressure on the High Com and our own government to get our $7,000 so that we could pay our bills. They did help. Oscar explained to them that the government had no money, but they somehow made arrangements with Saipan to finally get the funds to us. The money came through and we were elated because until then we were eating very little. Breakfast and lunch were eaten at one time, and this meal usually involved just a little bit of food. After work, at night, we would have a nice evening meal, a steak or something.
"Before these funds came through everything was being charged to Ataji's credit card, even the hotel bills. In Hawaii we had stayed at the Ala Moana Hotel, and when in Washington, we stayed at the Fox Center Hotel, the Roger Smith Hotel and also the Mayflower Hotel. All of these hotels were close to the White House and we were impressed because they all had huge Presidential Suites and very elegant meeting rooms.
"We immediately paid Ataji back for all the expenses that he had incurred on his credit card: our suits, shoes, food and hotel bills. We took some time off from our negotiations and went to New York City for a look-around, and to get out of Washington--we had been in that place for so long. Upon our return to Washington, D.C., we heard that when Oscar returned to Majuro from the hearings that were held in Washington, our people from Kili had asked him where were their 'old men'? Oscar told them that he wasn't really sure! So a rumor started on Kili that we were gone. To them that meant we were either dead or in jail. It caused a lot of our relatives to cry and worry about us, in a helpless way, because they knew that there was nothing they could do for us. They truly believed that we had been arrested and jailed for speaking out against the U.S. government's plan to send the Bikinians back to Bikini."
"So what happened when you did arrive back on Kili Island? Were the people happy with the progress that your small delegation made while in Washington, D.C.?"
Nathan shook his head dejectedly, and said, "We finally returned to the Marshalls with a short written statement from the Americans, but the people from Kili hated this minor gesture and shouted at us that the paper was worthless without any noticeable, immediate action taking place. Sadly, some of our people decided to go back to Bikini even against the Council's wishes. No one tried to keep them from going. Oscar said that they were Bikinians and therefore entitled to go back to their islands if they wanted to. We eventually received some compensation in the form of a three million dollar trust fund."
[photo right: Nathan Note, Lore Kessibuki, Moses Lewis 1972]
"Okay, Nathan, now I understand why you were saying earlier that I shouldn't complain about being tired. How do you feel now about that first excursion after the many thousands of miles that you have logged over the years?"
"Well, it was a long time ago, but to this day I thank Senator Ataji Balos for his help and the kindness that he showed toward us. And when I make a trip with a Bikinian delegation to the United States, or to different countries throughout the world, I wear warm clothes, I take five suits and ten neckties and I get per diem: But I will never forget that first trip to Washington and the hardships that our tiny delegation faced. It felt as if the entire world was against us. Nowadays, if we are having troubles, no matter what kind, I feel confident that eventually things will improve and take a turn for the better."
When Nathan finished his story, as he wandered back into the kitchen for some more tea, he let out a loud shriek. Horrified, I whirled around and looked into the kitchen. The stuffed gorilla had stood up and was now dancing across the floor waving his arms, kicking his legs and squealing loudly with an evil sounding laughter.
It momentarily scared the hell out of me until I realized the gag (when had the guy put the costume on??), but Nathan stood eyes-wide-petrified up against the kitchen wall: you could see that in his mind the cross-cultural dots were not connecting. The large ape, sensing the old man's prolonged state of fear, finally halted his antics and pulled off his furry gorilla head. Before Nathan stood one of the resident workers, first with a smile, then with a look of concern on his face when the old man did not return the comical facial gesture.
Even after I had interceded and walked Nathan to a chair, his heart did not return to its normal place in his chest for a good twenty minutes. As Nathan calmed himself in the kitchen (while I kept trying to explain that it was a joke), the stunt was pulled on the other members of our delegation in locations from the toilet to the bunkhouse. We were lucky no one died from a heart attack.
Another valuable on-the-road lesson learned: Dress warmly, take an extra tie and stay away from lonely, isolated Australians with just board games around for entertainment.
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