One of my last blogs was dedicated to my newfound passion for dancing. Little did I know that when I returned from Thanksgiving weekend, I would be doing little else for the next two weeks. I am writing this blog on a rainy Friday morning as I wait for a break in the downpour for a chance to bike to school. I would much rather be sleeping though as I an utterly exhausted. Let me start from the beginning.
As you probably know by now, I have been participating in a program called The Samoa Challenge II, a group weight lose program which began in September and ends this coming Monday. The general idea of the program was to encourage women to lead healthier lifestyles through better eating and exercising. Once a week we met to discuss different topics in a seminar form and following the meeting we would do jazzercise (or modified aerobics for all you Americans). Because of our success with the jazz, my group was asked to prepare a dance to perform during the awards ceremony on Monday. This meant step up the dancing to make sure our routine was spotless.
A few weeks ago we started practicing twice a week, then two weeks ago we bumped it up to three. Last week, with only one week to go, the women asked if maybe we could meet every day as a final push to the finish and of course I said yes because it is great to see their positive attitudes towards exercise (or at least competition…!)
We met on Monday for the final “weigh-in” and of course, to “Waka Waka” as we now call jazzercise. Midway through the meeting I was thrown a surprise. My counterpart, Vern, approached me with a huge smile on his face: “Um Rachel, the women want us to help them with their dance for the competition in town.” I was confused. “What competition?” I asked. He told me that every year during the Christmas season all of the villages compete for “Best Jazzercise Routine,” and the winners get featured on TV for the entire month of December. Unfortunately the competition is on Monday at the same time as our ceremony, so our group will not be able to participate, but for the 40-50 women who are not doing our program, they were all eager to make a dance.
Of course, I signed on again to this task. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Like I said, it is Friday now. Tuesday I spent 4 hours learning how to make music mash ups with Garage Band (amazing program!) and Wednesday and Thursday I pretty much moved into the fale komiti from 12 noon till 10pm to rehearse dances on and off all day. When not dancing, Vern and I were busy organizing the uniform for our group to wear on Monday. Around 9:45pm last night as I was tensing up over all the work we have been doing I closed my eyes and let myself just zero in on the situation. Here I am in Samoa, leading an aerobics class till all hours of the night to a great mash up of Silent Night and Hey Soul Sister, and although it’s tiring now, in a year when I am no longer living this lifestyle, you can bet I will be thinking back with great nostalgia on these evenings. Just the thought of where I am and what I am actually doing was enough to let the funk pass me by and I was energized and excited for the rest of the evening.
Today I am taking a break from the rehearsals to go to town, but between school and my trip to town I will be printing 15 tee shirts with the Mali’oli’o logo for our ladies and tomorrow to compensate for my ka’a (my being a slacker pretty much), we are having two practices. While this is an intense schedule, the thought that America is just a few days away has been pushing me on, and in a few days, I can sit down on an airplane and just sleep. I am so tired. I can’t wait!
Friday, December 10, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Sunrise, Sunset....5 days till home!
Since prize giving was last week, this week not much is going on at school. The students do not come to school and the teacher’s show up an hour or two late, just to watch movies and gossip. If this was unique to my school I would be utterly embarrassed to post this in my blog, but as it turns out, this is protocol for all of Samoa. I could get into my personal feelings on the subject, but instead, I will write about how I spent my fourth to last day of the school year.
I woke up late, around 7am and was unpleasantly surprised by my refrigerator, which had gone on defrost mode at some point last night and flooded my floor with water. Yuck. I put on some water for coffee, reset the fridge, and dealt with the mess. After coffee I biked up to school with my computer to put in some face time and make an exercise CD for one of the other teachers. Arriving at 8:15, I was the second teacher to come; a big change from the normal school year.
I made the CD and then at 9am said bye to the teachers. They looked at me like I was a terrible person for leaving school early, but then I explained that I had been invited to cook food for the construction workers at the church – a task that has been rotating amongst the women. I was very honored to be asked, and with a great deal of pride I walked down the dirt road towards the construction site. Upon arrival, the women who were already there were scurrying around to get the food ready before 10. I asked how I could help and they looked at me, paused, and then laughed. The Faletua (preachers wife) told me that before I help, I should go eat some morning breakfast with her children, so inside the house I went. I was served a plate of egg sandwiches, an apple, an orange, and some koko samoa. Once finished, I tried to get to work, but I was instructed to watch TV and told that I should never cook for the church since I am a guest of theirs. So much for feeling included!
After hanging out for a few hours, I returned to my fale (house) to work on a new exercise routine. I was attacked by a pack of dogs on the short walk back to my house and luckily I had my umbrella and was able to take a few good swings at them, but I didn’t hit any and they were not letting up. Luckily one of my year 6 students came to my rescue and neither of us were bitten. I hate walking down that road! At 3pm Vern came over to learn the dance I had created. Using GarageBand for the first time, I figured out how to mash up “Hey Soul Sister” with “Little Drummer Boy” and I am really excited about the resulting song! We practiced a few times and then around 4pm we went over to the fale komiti to teach the women.
When I signed up for Peace Corps I never dreamed I would be leading a weekly aerobics class. Now I am leading two classes a day for two different groups of women, and unfortunately for me, each group will be competing on Monday in different competitions: my original group is going to Apia for the end of the Samoa Challenge II (check out our article in The Samoa Observer, titled “Style Meets Fitness,”) and the other group will be competing for best jazzercise routine in Savaii. I will travel with the Apia group and we will be dancing at the awards ceremony. Whether or not we win the overall competition, my women have worked extremely hard and have all benefited in some way or other from this program, so in a way, we are all winners. But deep down, I want the satisfaction of knowing that my women won the Samoa Challenge 2010. Bring on the results!
I woke up late, around 7am and was unpleasantly surprised by my refrigerator, which had gone on defrost mode at some point last night and flooded my floor with water. Yuck. I put on some water for coffee, reset the fridge, and dealt with the mess. After coffee I biked up to school with my computer to put in some face time and make an exercise CD for one of the other teachers. Arriving at 8:15, I was the second teacher to come; a big change from the normal school year.
I made the CD and then at 9am said bye to the teachers. They looked at me like I was a terrible person for leaving school early, but then I explained that I had been invited to cook food for the construction workers at the church – a task that has been rotating amongst the women. I was very honored to be asked, and with a great deal of pride I walked down the dirt road towards the construction site. Upon arrival, the women who were already there were scurrying around to get the food ready before 10. I asked how I could help and they looked at me, paused, and then laughed. The Faletua (preachers wife) told me that before I help, I should go eat some morning breakfast with her children, so inside the house I went. I was served a plate of egg sandwiches, an apple, an orange, and some koko samoa. Once finished, I tried to get to work, but I was instructed to watch TV and told that I should never cook for the church since I am a guest of theirs. So much for feeling included!
After hanging out for a few hours, I returned to my fale (house) to work on a new exercise routine. I was attacked by a pack of dogs on the short walk back to my house and luckily I had my umbrella and was able to take a few good swings at them, but I didn’t hit any and they were not letting up. Luckily one of my year 6 students came to my rescue and neither of us were bitten. I hate walking down that road! At 3pm Vern came over to learn the dance I had created. Using GarageBand for the first time, I figured out how to mash up “Hey Soul Sister” with “Little Drummer Boy” and I am really excited about the resulting song! We practiced a few times and then around 4pm we went over to the fale komiti to teach the women.
When I signed up for Peace Corps I never dreamed I would be leading a weekly aerobics class. Now I am leading two classes a day for two different groups of women, and unfortunately for me, each group will be competing on Monday in different competitions: my original group is going to Apia for the end of the Samoa Challenge II (check out our article in The Samoa Observer, titled “Style Meets Fitness,”) and the other group will be competing for best jazzercise routine in Savaii. I will travel with the Apia group and we will be dancing at the awards ceremony. Whether or not we win the overall competition, my women have worked extremely hard and have all benefited in some way or other from this program, so in a way, we are all winners. But deep down, I want the satisfaction of knowing that my women won the Samoa Challenge 2010. Bring on the results!
Sunday, December 5, 2010
V Nights
I went to town Thursday evening to enjoy some true American food in honor of the Thanksgiving holiday: pizza. Giordano’s makes pizza in three sizes: small, medium, and extra large. Although it feels excessive to order an extra large pizza for two people, food is one thing that is always supersized in this country, so titling the large pizza extra large kind of makes sense, and ordering one for two people has begun to feel a bit more normal. I need to remember not to do that in America though or I will be eating pizza for at least the following three days! Size aside, the pizza was great: half BBQ chicken, half spicy Thai chicken. Sweet and spicy in perfect harmony.
Following the dinner we decided to head down to V-Bar where a company Christmas party was being held. I have never gone to V-Bar on a Thursday and was pleasantly surprised by the packed dance hall, costume party, and music going to till midnight (it typically cuts off around 10pm). The theme of the party was “International” and so people were dressed as geishas, Egyptian kings and queens, tourists, and other fun outfits. At one point, a group of about 10 people busted into an impromptu (yet planned) “Beat It” performance which truly did honor to Michael Jacksons name. It was awesome!
Friday was “Fiesta Night” at V Bar, so a bunch of us decided to hit it up. We got there around 5:30pm, began dancing around 6, and didn’t stop till midnight! Jordan and Dan were celebrating their last weekend on the island and it was a really fun way to say bye and send them off. At one point “Empire State of Mind” came on and Lili, Dan, and I busted out our collective New York pride and honored the state we all love so much. Everyone was in rare form and the dancing was better than ever.
Saturday was the spectacular Thanksgiving feast at the Charge D’affair’s house, and being that I was too full to move I feared my three night dancing parade might be cut a night short. However, after a few hours of laying on the couch I was functioning at about 75% and figured what better way to feel better from over eating than to dance it off? So back to the V Bar we went to dance off those calories and enjoy one last evening in the “big city.”
Returning home Sunday, my body felt like it had been through a marathon. I fell asleep around 9pm and didn’t wake up until my snooze had been hit three or four times. Still feeling the effects of the Dramamine from the ferry the day before I hazily went about my school day before returning home and sleeping for another three hours. It’s now 8:30 and as I write this I feel myself sinking into the comfortable calm before sleep. I can say I have successfully carried out my first dance marathon in Apia and although I am exhausted now, I know it will only be a matter of time before the dance party returns. If I have learned one thing here, it is to dance freely and frequently!
V Nights
I went to town Thursday evening to enjoy some true American food in honor of the Thanksgiving holiday: pizza. Giordano’s makes pizza in three sizes: small, medium, and extra large. Although it feels excessive to order an extra large pizza for two people, food is one thing that is always supersized in this country, so titling the large pizza extra large kind of makes sense, and ordering one for two people has begun to feel a bit more normal. I need to remember not to do that in America though or I will be eating pizza for at least the following three days! Size aside, the pizza was great: half BBQ chicken, half spicy Thai chicken. Sweet and spicy in perfect harmony.
Following the dinner we decided to head down to V-Bar where a company Christmas party was being held. I have never gone to V-Bar on a Thursday and was pleasantly surprised by the packed dance hall, costume party, and music going to till midnight (it typically cuts off around 10pm). The theme of the party was “International” and so people were dressed as geishas, Egyptian kings and queens, tourists, and other fun outfits. At one point, a group of about 10 people busted into an impromptu (yet planned) “Beat It” performance which truly did honor to Michael Jacksons name. It was awesome!
Friday was “Fiesta Night” at V Bar, so a bunch of us decided to hit it up. We got there around 5:30pm, began dancing around 6, and didn’t stop till midnight! Jordan and Dan were celebrating their last weekend on the island and it was a really fun way to say bye and send them off. At one point “Empire State of Mind” came on and Lili, Dan, and I busted out our collective New York pride and honored the state we all love so much. Everyone was in rare form and the dancing was better than ever.
Saturday was the spectacular Thanksgiving feast at the Charge D’affair’s house, and being that I was too full to move I feared my three night dancing parade might be cut a night short. However, after a few hours of laying on the couch I was functioning at about 75% and figured what better way to feel better from over eating than to dance it off? So back to the V Bar we went to dance off those calories and enjoy one last evening in the “big city.”
Returning home Sunday, my body felt like it had been through a marathon. I fell asleep around 9pm and didn’t wake up until my snooze had been hit three or four times. Still feeling the effects of the Dramamine from the ferry the day before I hazily went about my school day before returning home and sleeping for another three hours. It’s now 8:30 and as I write this I feel myself sinking into the comfortable calm before sleep. I can say I have successfully carried out my first dance marathon in Apia and although I am exhausted now, I know it will only be a matter of time before the dance party returns. If I have learned one thing here, it is to dance freely and frequently!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Give Thanks
“Fa’afetai Iesu mo mea’ai, amene;” or in English, thank you Jesus for the food. It’s the first and only prayer I have learned to say in Samoan and I say it on a nightly basis before eating meals with other families here in the village. I say it at school before eating lunch with the teachers. I say it at the women’s to’ona’I before the Sunday feast. And sometimes I even say it in the comfort of my own home, just for fun. In each scenario, I truly am thankful to the women I am eating with for providing my food for the day. But this past year has given me more to be thankful for than just food.
On a day when I have struggled to get my water pipes fixed three times over the course of five hours, I think it most fitting to start off with a thanks to my next door neighbours, Mina and Vaifale. Vaifale is the self-appointed president of the water committee here in my village and therefore he is the go to guy for all water related issues. Over the past week he has fixed my pipes seven times. Today I proposed maybe getting new pipes… only time will tell what happens, but I think it will save him a lot of time if he agrees. At this point, I am totally willing to pay for them!
But water aside, Vaifale and Mina have become my parents away from home. If the power goes out, Mina is at the door with candles. If a cyclone is on the way, Vaifale is there updating me with the latest news from the radio. But perhaps most importantly, the two of them have opened their home to me. I eat dinner with them three nights a week and stop in on almost a daily basis just to say hi, to sip koko, and to chat. Without them, my village would feel like a village but not like a home. They make me feel at home, and for that homeliness in a strange land, I am truly thankful.
Along the village lines, I am thankful for my faifeau and his faletua, two of the kindest, most generous people I have ever met. When I moved in, the faletua sewed new curtains, bed sheets, pillowcases, and stocked the kitchen area with plates, bowls, forks, and knifes. They have proven to be just as welcoming as Vaifale and Mina and I am thankful for their endless support for me and my strange palagi ways.
Lili deserves her own paragraph of thanks for being the best friend I could have ever found. Her optimistic and hilarious texts always keep me laughing and using up all of my free texts throughout the day, and time goes by as if we were hanging out every day, not just once every few weeks. When we do get to kafao, be it in Salelologa or Apia, we always have the wildest adventures and part knowing that the next time will be just as fun. When I am having a down day, Lili doesn’t hesitate to call, and when I spend all of my money, she is quick to lend a few (hundred) tala. I am so happy that Peace Corps has introduced me to someone as great as Lili who I am proud to have as a friend and a sister.
And to the rest of my Peace Corps family, do not feel left out! Group 82 whom I came into this amazing country with has truly been a family from the beginning. My Savaii girls, Emi, Ali, and Elisa, provide the best stories and laughter every Saturday at Lucia’s (I am thankful for Lucia and Tui, too!), and I look forward to the weekly unwind Saturday afternoons with you girls. Tana, my other Savaii sister, was the first Peace Corps I met and although we might have had a shouting match the first night in our hotel back in LA, I have grown to love her so much. Samoa would not be the same without your enthusiasm Tana! I can’t wait to get tattoos in January! My Savaiian Brother, the mysterious Matt – you are one for the books, with such a positive outlook on life. I love how you inspire me to be calm, go with the flow, and just realize how BEAUTIFUL everything really is! I hope the yoga retreat happens! And to the Upolu volunteers, I love you all the same, and value the time we spend together in Apia. Bring on the ice cream!
To my friends back home, especially those who have supported me through emails, facebook updates, and calls now and then, I really appreciate your commitment to our friendship. Leaving everyone and everything you know for two years is an experience that is just as hard as it sounds, and without the contact with all of you, I would lose touch of who I am and where I came from. I look forward to seeing my Skyview Family, Rockland County Crew, 615 girls, Bucknell boys, and every one else in between in just a few weeks! Best care-package award goes to Haile with Ezra as a close second. For all of you who want a shout out at this time next year, I will be here another year, so get those packages in the mail; I love cheetos, chocolate, and pretty much anything manufactured in America. But to be honest, Arianna’s never failing holidays cards mean just as much as the treats which fill out my belly and my clothes, and I can safely say I have all of them hanging on my wall. Thanks girl! I could go on and on, but calling you all out individually goes against the spirit of what I am most thankful for: you. Friendship isn’t a competition, and with friends like these, how could I ever seriously compare?!
I am thankful for running water and electricity. For a reliable (green) bus, and an entertaining feud between my bus and the pink bus for never ending entertainment. I am thankful for the pili (lizards) residing in my room and the chickens eating centipedes outside. To red wine. Thanks Gwenn for the dress and The Lady Samoa II for the time served – we miss you, queen of the va’a! I am thankful to have such a supporting office staff and particularly the best PCMO in the whole world who is there to reassure me that my medical issues are not that severe and that almost everything can be fixed with a Benadryl. To DJ OKAY and Phish – may a remix of your music one day happen and further rock my mornings. And to Christmas lights being ok in November. I am thankful for my loving family back home and for all that they do for me. My thoughts are with you all until I return. Stay strong. I love you all. To Jacob, thank you for never letting me slip through the cracks. I appreciate your honesty and sincerity and am so glad to call you my twin.
Lastly, I am thankful for this wonderful adventure that I have been living for the past year and I look forward to the next year of Peace Corps service. The challenges faced and lessons learned in the face of those challenges have been some of the most insightful and meaningful ones of my life. It is hard to process service while still active, but I know a part of me has change for the better, and I am so thankful that I have had the opportunity to grow in this manner. So Happy Thanksgiving to all, may it be full of food, family, and love. Amene.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Mapping the World
The Painters - Day One
The last few weeks of school here in Samoa are characterized by song and dance practice. Teaching and exams are over and the students are left to work on what will be the best performance of the year… an event called Prize Giving. Prize Giving is a special day, which honors the top students for every subject in every grade. Three weeks before Prize Giving (this year December 3rd) my school began their preparations. Divided into three teams, each team will compete for the best song, dance, and sasa (traditional chat/song/dance combo). Being the Peace Corps, I was not assigned to a group. Instead, I was asked to work with the year 8 students on their number. I chose Thriller.
After the first few hours of song and dance practice I was more sick of my favourite song and dance nuber that I ever imagined possible. I decided we needed some variety in our daily plans for the last few weeks and the thought struck me: here is my opportunity to do the world map project I have wanted to do since hearing about it! Unfortunately for me (and fortunate for the students of the school), the villages’ past Peace Corps volunteer had beat me to the punch. So, to modify the project, I decided my group would do a map of Samoa, including all the villages and geographical features. The year 8 teacher and his students loved the idea, and soon I was off to town to buy plywood and gather the Peace Corps World Map Kit. I should note, although I may be wrong, that this is a trademarked project of the Peace Corps. Peace Corps volunteers have used the very same map and colour scheme in countless schools and communities around the world. A cool legacy to join. Here is Samoa, we have a world map kit which is two large woven baskets containing four large cans of paint and about 8 smaller ones of the less needed colours. Paint-brushes and a book explaining how to get the map on the wall, board, or fabric of choice is also included. We had to do without the book but managed to get a great image of the country traced in chalk onto our plywood board using the schools new projector (thanks Skyview!)
Day three of the project and the map is almost done…except for the more important part – the country itself! We began the project before realizing that we were out of green paint. So the ocean is painted, the country name is complete, and the Peace Corps logo is done. Now all we need to do is fill in the islands, label the villages, and outline the whole thing once the paint is dry.
The map has proven to be a great break from Thriller practice, but with the delay in the painting, it looks like the next two days will be strictly song and dance once more. Then come Monday, we will complete the map, and the year 8 students will join the world map legacy. I will post pictures of the completed project after prize giving. For now, enjoy the work in progress!
Take Me Through the River
Saturday, November 20th, 12:25am. I am standing at the kitchen sink putting away a few dishes following an epic evening with Emi, Ali, and Elisa where we made heaps of spicy (and not so spicy) delicious Thai food. Practically comatose from the food we fell to the floor where we watched “Whip It,” a great movie featuring the drama and fun of Texas’s own roller derby (Go Texas! – Emi). Following the film in my compulsory cleaning frenzy I found myself finishing up the dishes when I heard a strange, yet oddly familiar roaring noise. I thought out loud, “there is no way that could be the river…it is way too early in the season! And yet…that certainly is not rain.” Skeptically, I grabbed my phone which doubles as a flashlight and went outside to peak. Low and behold, there was the river crashing through my backyard in all of it’s muddy glory. I raced inside and grabbed the girls, who were not as thrilled about my late night burst of excitement as I was but came along to check out the site regardless. Being that 363 days out of the year this river runs dry, it truly is a source of pleasure to finally hear water running through the riverbed. Elisa caught the excitement and together we convinced Ali and Emi to take a midnight stroll down the road to where the river crosses the road. Being that it was almost 1am, we were some of the only villagers out and we took the opportunity to take some pictures. We headed back to the house and went to bed wondering if the river would be crossable by bus in the morning.
Saturday morning comes and we hopped on the first bus we saw. Thankfully the water had retreated quite a bit during the early morning hours and the bus was able to cross with no problems. I mentioned in on of my earlier blog entries (A River Runs Through It) that the designers of the Savaii roads thought it unnecessary to build a proper bridge over the Mali’oli’o River since the water only effects the road one or two days out of the year. Being that the river has flowed three times now in the past year, I would say their philosophy might need to be updated. Regardless, the concrete slab which serves as a bridge was built at river level, so when the river comes and it’s flow is strong enough, traffic comes to a complete stop on both sides of the road. Savaii only has one road circling the island, so one could argue that this creates a significant problem, especially for tourists trapped or prevented from reaching their touristy destinations at the top of the island. However, like I said, we were lucky this particular morning and got to town with no problems.
We did our shopping, did the typical afternoon chill session at Lucia’s Lagoon, and then it was time to head home. I loaded the bus not knowing what the river had in store for me and nervous as anything. I had texted Manuia, the guy who works the store right next to the river and he had told me that the river was flowing strong but was probably passable. I didn’t like that answer, however, I had to try my luck. Too soon, we reached what felt like judgment day. As we approached the river crossing, we were met by dozens of cars lined up on the side of the road, waiting for the river to retreat. We came to a stop just before the river and waited as a few people hopped off the bus and dozens hopped on. Starring out the river I wondered to myself if I qualified as stupid for staying on the bus and I had the impulse to jump off. Had we sat there a few minutes longer, I might have given in to my fear, but just as I was pondering my escape, the bus began to move forward. I turned to the man sitting next to me as I plotted my back up escape route through the window to his left and made a face implying, “do you think this is safe?” He just smiled at me and responded with, “This is the strongest river in Samoa, you know?” Some how his words did not help. The feeling you get in your stomach as you accent to the peak of a rollercoaster in nervous anticipation of the drop was the feeling that crept into me as we descended towards the riverbed. Then like a turtle who moves slow and steady both in and out of the water we began our progress across the short concrete bridge (completely hidden at this point). Water nearly reached the windows of the bus, but a man stood in the water showing the driver where the side of the bridge ended (and thus where to avoid!) Somehow, his calm presence in the gushing water was reassuring. If he wasn’t being swept down stream, chances we low that we would be. The bus creaked and moaned and then in a flash, we were out of the water and back on dry land. I think I breathed for the first time in about five minutes.
Saturday morning comes and we hopped on the first bus we saw. Thankfully the water had retreated quite a bit during the early morning hours and the bus was able to cross with no problems. I mentioned in on of my earlier blog entries (A River Runs Through It) that the designers of the Savaii roads thought it unnecessary to build a proper bridge over the Mali’oli’o River since the water only effects the road one or two days out of the year. Being that the river has flowed three times now in the past year, I would say their philosophy might need to be updated. Regardless, the concrete slab which serves as a bridge was built at river level, so when the river comes and it’s flow is strong enough, traffic comes to a complete stop on both sides of the road. Savaii only has one road circling the island, so one could argue that this creates a significant problem, especially for tourists trapped or prevented from reaching their touristy destinations at the top of the island. However, like I said, we were lucky this particular morning and got to town with no problems.
We did our shopping, did the typical afternoon chill session at Lucia’s Lagoon, and then it was time to head home. I loaded the bus not knowing what the river had in store for me and nervous as anything. I had texted Manuia, the guy who works the store right next to the river and he had told me that the river was flowing strong but was probably passable. I didn’t like that answer, however, I had to try my luck. Too soon, we reached what felt like judgment day. As we approached the river crossing, we were met by dozens of cars lined up on the side of the road, waiting for the river to retreat. We came to a stop just before the river and waited as a few people hopped off the bus and dozens hopped on. Starring out the river I wondered to myself if I qualified as stupid for staying on the bus and I had the impulse to jump off. Had we sat there a few minutes longer, I might have given in to my fear, but just as I was pondering my escape, the bus began to move forward. I turned to the man sitting next to me as I plotted my back up escape route through the window to his left and made a face implying, “do you think this is safe?” He just smiled at me and responded with, “This is the strongest river in Samoa, you know?” Some how his words did not help. The feeling you get in your stomach as you accent to the peak of a rollercoaster in nervous anticipation of the drop was the feeling that crept into me as we descended towards the riverbed. Then like a turtle who moves slow and steady both in and out of the water we began our progress across the short concrete bridge (completely hidden at this point). Water nearly reached the windows of the bus, but a man stood in the water showing the driver where the side of the bridge ended (and thus where to avoid!) Somehow, his calm presence in the gushing water was reassuring. If he wasn’t being swept down stream, chances we low that we would be. The bus creaked and moaned and then in a flash, we were out of the water and back on dry land. I think I breathed for the first time in about five minutes.
My river adventure over for the day and possible the year, I headed into my house, fixed a big bowl of cereal for dinner, and settled down to watch a movie. Who knows when the river will return again? Next time, I’m taking a canoe to town though!
Monday, November 8, 2010
Palolo
yum. palolo.
A year ago, hearing the word “Worm” conjured up images of long slimy earth worms living in the garden back home. Although gardeners would argue with me, I have never seen much in these animals. Along with spiders, they were a big reason why I never really wanted to get into gardening. I have a vivid memory of walking the track early Saturday mornings before marching band practice and having to consciously avoid all of the worms which had crawled off the football field in the early morning dew only to die on the track. Maybe that was the beginning of my lack of appreciation.
Since moving to Samoa, my immediate image of worms has changed. Instead of thinking of slimy animals in the ground, I now think of nasty bugs living inside the human body. I wonder if this is true of all Peace Corps worldwide? Although I am unsure as to whether or not I have actually had worms since coming here, I have had plenty of stomach issues, and it would be safe to assume that one tiem or another, worms may have been the blame.
However, Samoa has once again changed my minds image of the word worm. Two weeks ago was the big palolo, or sea worm, harvest. This culinary delicacy appears twice a year, around the time of the full moon in October and November. I need to double check my facts, but from what I have gathered, palolo is the sex organ of coral, and just before sunrise around the time of the full moon for a few days a year, these small worms emerge to reproduce. Due to it’s rare status, thousands of Samoans flock to the coral reefs during this palolo harvest to try their luck at capturing these worms. Those who are successful either feat on the worms within their families or sell them for huge profits. A small bag of the precious worms starts at about $100 tala, and a half-liter will sell for about $500.
People eat it live, dead, cooked, or uncooked. I had made plans to go fishing with the guys who run the store near my house, but come palolo morning, they slept through and thus I missed my opportunity to fish. Their older brother was successful in fishing though and brought about $100 worth back to the family. I was offered a small portion of the still live worms and although I pride myself in trying anything once, I just couldn’t eat the live worms. I resolved to seek out some cooked ones, however that never happened. Luckily for me, another volunteer, Supy, had gone fishing for the palolo, and brought some dead ones to our Halloween celebration. Still uncooked, yet dead, and on Halloween, it seemed fitting to give the worms a try. I took a small spoonful, swallowed, and was please to discover that it was not so bad. Pretty much, the worms tasted like salt water. Makes sense. Next year, I plan to find the palolo and prepare it the proper way – fried with butter and served up on crunchy toast. Till then, I hope to go another year without any kind of worm in my life.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Tortilla Flat
Luti, Pisi, and Siaki posing with the tortillas
Luti and Pisi in the kitchen
Pisi with her creation
Me and the kids post tortilla party
For tonights fiafia, Lily and I decided to make burritos for the new group. Last night, I invited some kids over to watch Mamma Mia and cook. Enjoy the pictures!
Jazzercise
Jazzercise is the Samoan equivalent of an aerobic dance class. A few weeks ago I began a health project in my village with the intention of raising awareness about diabetes and health disease and the determination to lower the risk of both diseases in the twenty women who joined my program. Joey, group 81, arranged the program with such detail that we each received practically a play-by-play book of what to teach during each lecture. I recruited my friend Vern to be my counterpart and together we recruited 20 overweight women to join our program.
Of course, no one showed up for our first meeting. So we tried again a few days later and had 12 women show up. At the first meeting we took basic measurements of height, weight, waist and hip circumference, and Joey came out to the sits to measure blood pressure. After a long morning we decided against jazzercise but promised the women an aerobic workout at the next meeting.
Meeting number two went even better than the first and although 5 women did not show up, we had 5 new women join the program, so our number hovered at 12. The session was lively and the women were really interested in all that we had to say. Finally we reached the exercise portion of the afternoon and the women jumped to life. Blasting Waka Waka, Vern and I led the women in a dance routine we had created the week before. For those reading this from back home, all those years of marching band paid off, and I was able to incorporate the very first marching band dance I ever learned into the Waka Waka chorus. Smith would be proud. And big thanks to Shaun for teaching me how to dance all those years ago!
White Sunday
This weekend marked one of the biggest holiday weekends here in Samoa, White Sunday Weekend. White Sunday, also called “Aso Sa Tamaiti,” or “Lotu Tamaiti,” is the holiday that honors Samoan children. For this day only, children are excused of their daily feau’s (chores), they are showered with gifts from their parents, and they eat first, a right at all other times reserved for elders, parents, and special guests. In addition to the pampering at home, church also shifts it’s focus to the children. Although the holiday originated at the EFKS (congregational) Church, it has been adopted to fit all the churches here.
I decided that being a teacher, I needed to be present to celebrate all of my students White Sundays with them, so instead of limiting myself to the EFKS church, I made an effort to visit the other denominations in my village as well.
I began my church tour Thursday night by attending the Assembly of God (Worship Center). This church is very different than the others here. It is sometimes called the “Pati Pati Church” (meaning “clap clap”) because the congregation is in a constant state of singing and dancing. I find it a little weird, but it is nice that people are free to worship through self-expression, however they feel fit. The show started around 8pm and went till 11. It was chock full of rock hymns, interpretive dances, small dramatic interpretations of the bible, and a Bible Trivia game offering prizes to the bright students of AOG. Although I was a little worshipped-out by the end, I did enjoy seeing my students perform. It turns out one of my students is the drummer for the AOG band, and many others get up and sing solo’s on a weekly basis. People of all denominations were in attendance of the show, so I did not feel like such an outsider. I felt more like a community member supporting the children, which is exactly what I intended to do.
The next day was my dancing with Mormons experience so check the last blog for that experience. Then Saturday I planned to go to the Seventh Day Adventist Church, however my ride never showed up. So instead of going to church, I watched Pee Wee’s Big Adventure on the projector with a few of my neighbors. I love that movie!
I woke up Sunday around 7am and hit snooze, enjoying the fact that I did not have to be at church till 9am. However, I was awoken by a phone call from Mina 15 minutes later, inviting me for morning tea. How could I say no? I jumped out of bed, did a quick bucket shower, and was over within a half hour to sip on sweet coffee and eat delicious homemade pudding (kind of like a ginger-papaya sponge cake made on the stovetop). Mina and I walked to church together around 8:45 and took a seat in the second pew.
At 9am, the children lined up outside and paraded into the Church, boys walking down one aisle and girls the other. They sang a beautiful song and joined each other in the front of the congregation. The morning service was not a traditional one: instead of the Faifeau preaching, the children each recited small prayers and then put on a magnificent show of songs, dances, and story re-enactments for the next two hours. I have to admit I fell asleep a few times, but it was still an excellent show!
I returned home around 11, gulped down a cup of coffee for fuel, and then headed over to Faoa’s house for Toonai (Sunday lunch). Faoa was having a family reunion and had invited me to attend, however when I showed up, one of her cousins whom I did not know looked at me as if I was lost and asked if he could help me. I responded with, “Fa’amolemole, ou te fia ai!” Meaning, “Please, I’m hungry!” Faoa showed up laughing at that point as her cousin looked at me questioning, and I was invited in to sit with the children (and therefore be served first!) The plates were piled high with sausage, BBQ chicken and fish, Taro, Breadfruit, and palusami. A side dish was set up with Oka (raw fish in coconut cream), and a special dish of my favorite food, fe’e, was served just to me! I guess it’s a good thing to talk about the foods I like all the time – it pays off in the end! I ate as much as possible, but Faoa was displeased and made fun of me, calling me too skinny. I tried to eat more taro but just couldn’t do it, so I was sent home with a heaping plate of BBQ chicken, taro, and of course, the fe’e.
I went home to enjoy a nice long afternoon nap and awoke at 3:45, realizing I was late for second service! I threw on my Sunday Whites and headed down the street to watch part two of the entertainment. The afternoon was so much better than the morning. Every family had prepared either a song or dance to perform in front of the congregation. My favorite was a family of about 12 kids who did a fake beauty pageant - lets call it a “Prophet Pageant.” They had 4 children dressed up as Abraham, Moses, Noah, and I forgot the last one, but each was equipped with an outrageous beard and paraded across the stage flaunting their staffs and wardrobes. It was very funny. The quality of the dancing was great, and overall I really enjoyed the afternoon.
When it ended I was invited to the Faifeau’s house for the evening meal where once again a plate of BBQ chicken and friend fish, palusami, taro, breadfruit, pisupo, and cake was placed in front of me. Again I was made fun of for how little I eat, but it was all in good fun. The meal was topped off with ice cream bars and picture sharing.
When I woke up this morning I was worried about offending my three favorite families by not being able to experience White Sunday with all of them. As it turned out, I got the best of all worlds. Each of these families feels like home to me. They are all so different but their common quality is the pure love and acceptance they have for me. And I feel the same for them. If all goes as planned tomorrow, I am going on my first fishing trip with Vaifale! I hope it goes through, I am ready for another village adventure!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Dancing With Mormons
Tuesday I was told that there would be a dance at the Mormon Church on Friday to celebrate White Sunday. Being that I have a newfound obsession with dancing, there was no question as to where I would be spending my Friday night. Plus I had come up for the name for this blog sometime Wednesday afternoon, so for the sake of the blog, I had to go dance with the Mormons. And “Dancing With the Stars” has nothing on us!
As the day drew closer I began to get cold feet. I had never actually been to the Mormon Church and I was not sure how many people I would know there as a result. I run past the Mormon Church when I am in the mood for a long run, but other than that, I do not get to that part of town too often. Then there was the question of dance styles. I was reassured many times that it would be “just like a night club,” meaning “siva palagi” (foreign dancing) would be in full effect. I have been to a fair share of dances between my time in Manunu, dances in Apia, and dances in Salelologa, and each has it’s own distinct flavor. In most cases you can expect an exceptionally loud base, drunken sole’s inappropriately groping at least one or two times, favorite songs played on repeat, and a fluctuating level of alcohol. I knew that the Mormon church would be free of the drunken sole’s and thus free of groping, but I knew nothing else.
The dance was scheduled to start at 4pm and go till midnight, but when I went for my run at 6:30 no one was at the church yet, although music was blaring loudly to draw people in. I ran home, ate a Cliff Bar for dinner with a bag of Doritos for dessert, and went to pump up my bike tires as I planned to meet Vern and bike over with him. I was most nervous about biking to his house because the dogs at night are vicious in Samoa and I had no headlight. Lucky for me and unlucky for Vern, my bike tires were flat as could be and my pump was not working, so Vern came to fix my bike up for me and I did not have to bike by myself.
We arrived at the dance around 8:30 and of course only a handful of people were there. The music was off and it sounded like prayers were going on. We biked right into the Mormon complex and pulled up our bikes next to the open fale. As we entered we were greeted by the smiles of many of my children and their parents, and I even recognized a few women who have signed on to my health project! A Peace Corps cannot go anywhere and not have a fuss made over them, so naturally I was called up to perform the opening dance and thus start the night. I felt like a queen arriving amongst my people. I have learned to expect this solo dance whenever I am a guest of honor yet I am still uncomfortable with the Siva Samoa. My body just does not move that gracefully! So as I made my way to the dance floor I made the decision to wow the crowds with some true palagi dance moves, and I performed a horrible cross between siva samoa and siva palagi. However, my dance had the effect I desired and people were cracking up at my ridiculously foreign moves. Before I knew it, I had at least 10 back up dancers and for the first time the song did not feel painfully long as it usually does.
Shortly after my initiation dance my student Gerald slipped word to the DJ that Waka Waka is my favorite song and must be played. The DJ began playing clips of the intro to Waka Waka in anticipation of the songs debut for the evening, and then bam, it was on us, blasting in all its glory. Vern and I did the Jazzercize routine we created for the women and a few of our ladies joined in, too. As the night progressed, Waka Waka was played 4 times. Like I said, Samoan’s are not shy to appreciate a good thing!
Other highlights of the evening were dancing with the children (who copied every move I did) to “Mambo Number 5” and “The Vegabus” (at least I think that’s what it is called, it has been a long time since I have heard that song…yet tonight, I heard it 3 times!) A touch of Samoa that I really liked was seeing two children passed out in the corner of the dance floor, as if there was not a pounding base rattling the floor around them. Their mothers sat protectfully by making sure no dancers got too close.
The night ended too soon, around 11, with a prayer from the faifeau and blessings for this special weekend. As I mounted my bike, my reoccurring break problem kicked in and a loud squeaking resistance met my every pedal. I dismounted and unhinged the back break, reminding myself to not ride too fast home. There was no hurry though and on this moonless night, the stars were shining extra bright, as if to light our way by their light alone. Thankfully Vern accompanied me home so I did not have to brave the dogs and his bike light helped us avoid hitting the groups of people hanging out on the road. I felt like I Could bike forever in the cool night air with the magical stars overhead.
Since moving to the village I have spent almost every evening by myself: watching movies, reading books, or going too sleep early to forget that I have nothing else to do at night. This past week has been a real eye opener for me as to all that I have been missing in my reclusiveness. For one, my Samoan language has taken leaps and bounds just this week by getting out there and hanging with people. I am embarrassed that I was not doing this all along as much as I am now, but I had to go at my own pace to feel comfortable. Monday I enjoyed an afternoon sipping Koko and weaving with some neighbors whom I had never met. Tuesday and Wednesday night I watched movies with some of the high school kids and although it was maddening at times (they are proud of the English they know and constantly wanted to fill me in on what was about to happen in the movie, thus taking away all elements of surprise), it was actually a lot of fun to do what I always do, just with people. Thursday night deserves its own blog, as it was spent at the Assembly of God’s (Worship Center’s) White Sunday show. It was my first time returning to the “Pati Pati Church” since I boldly went last Christmas, and I was reminded why I do not go. However, it was a nice evening, especially because I got to spend time with the students who I do not see on a weekly basis at EFKS, and their parents. I will try to blog about that experience later, but no promises.
As you can see, this week has been a true turning point in my Peace Corps experience. I feel more and more integrated as the days pass and less eager to leave the village and hang out in town. While those days will always be special days with my Peace Corps family, I am finding that my village has become a home away from home like I never imagined it could be. Plus I cleaned and rearranged my room today so I don’t have the disgusting mess to avoid anymore…!
Continuing the trend of new church experiences, I have agreed to attend the Seventh Day Adventist service tomorrow, which will also be a White Sunday celebration. And Sunday I will return to my home base, EFKS, to celebrate with my most familiar congregation. A few weeks ago, I would have dreaded a weekend like this. But now, I could not be happier.
As the day drew closer I began to get cold feet. I had never actually been to the Mormon Church and I was not sure how many people I would know there as a result. I run past the Mormon Church when I am in the mood for a long run, but other than that, I do not get to that part of town too often. Then there was the question of dance styles. I was reassured many times that it would be “just like a night club,” meaning “siva palagi” (foreign dancing) would be in full effect. I have been to a fair share of dances between my time in Manunu, dances in Apia, and dances in Salelologa, and each has it’s own distinct flavor. In most cases you can expect an exceptionally loud base, drunken sole’s inappropriately groping at least one or two times, favorite songs played on repeat, and a fluctuating level of alcohol. I knew that the Mormon church would be free of the drunken sole’s and thus free of groping, but I knew nothing else.
The dance was scheduled to start at 4pm and go till midnight, but when I went for my run at 6:30 no one was at the church yet, although music was blaring loudly to draw people in. I ran home, ate a Cliff Bar for dinner with a bag of Doritos for dessert, and went to pump up my bike tires as I planned to meet Vern and bike over with him. I was most nervous about biking to his house because the dogs at night are vicious in Samoa and I had no headlight. Lucky for me and unlucky for Vern, my bike tires were flat as could be and my pump was not working, so Vern came to fix my bike up for me and I did not have to bike by myself.
We arrived at the dance around 8:30 and of course only a handful of people were there. The music was off and it sounded like prayers were going on. We biked right into the Mormon complex and pulled up our bikes next to the open fale. As we entered we were greeted by the smiles of many of my children and their parents, and I even recognized a few women who have signed on to my health project! A Peace Corps cannot go anywhere and not have a fuss made over them, so naturally I was called up to perform the opening dance and thus start the night. I felt like a queen arriving amongst my people. I have learned to expect this solo dance whenever I am a guest of honor yet I am still uncomfortable with the Siva Samoa. My body just does not move that gracefully! So as I made my way to the dance floor I made the decision to wow the crowds with some true palagi dance moves, and I performed a horrible cross between siva samoa and siva palagi. However, my dance had the effect I desired and people were cracking up at my ridiculously foreign moves. Before I knew it, I had at least 10 back up dancers and for the first time the song did not feel painfully long as it usually does.
Shortly after my initiation dance my student Gerald slipped word to the DJ that Waka Waka is my favorite song and must be played. The DJ began playing clips of the intro to Waka Waka in anticipation of the songs debut for the evening, and then bam, it was on us, blasting in all its glory. Vern and I did the Jazzercize routine we created for the women and a few of our ladies joined in, too. As the night progressed, Waka Waka was played 4 times. Like I said, Samoan’s are not shy to appreciate a good thing!
Other highlights of the evening were dancing with the children (who copied every move I did) to “Mambo Number 5” and “The Vegabus” (at least I think that’s what it is called, it has been a long time since I have heard that song…yet tonight, I heard it 3 times!) A touch of Samoa that I really liked was seeing two children passed out in the corner of the dance floor, as if there was not a pounding base rattling the floor around them. Their mothers sat protectfully by making sure no dancers got too close.
The night ended too soon, around 11, with a prayer from the faifeau and blessings for this special weekend. As I mounted my bike, my reoccurring break problem kicked in and a loud squeaking resistance met my every pedal. I dismounted and unhinged the back break, reminding myself to not ride too fast home. There was no hurry though and on this moonless night, the stars were shining extra bright, as if to light our way by their light alone. Thankfully Vern accompanied me home so I did not have to brave the dogs and his bike light helped us avoid hitting the groups of people hanging out on the road. I felt like I Could bike forever in the cool night air with the magical stars overhead.
Since moving to the village I have spent almost every evening by myself: watching movies, reading books, or going too sleep early to forget that I have nothing else to do at night. This past week has been a real eye opener for me as to all that I have been missing in my reclusiveness. For one, my Samoan language has taken leaps and bounds just this week by getting out there and hanging with people. I am embarrassed that I was not doing this all along as much as I am now, but I had to go at my own pace to feel comfortable. Monday I enjoyed an afternoon sipping Koko and weaving with some neighbors whom I had never met. Tuesday and Wednesday night I watched movies with some of the high school kids and although it was maddening at times (they are proud of the English they know and constantly wanted to fill me in on what was about to happen in the movie, thus taking away all elements of surprise), it was actually a lot of fun to do what I always do, just with people. Thursday night deserves its own blog, as it was spent at the Assembly of God’s (Worship Center’s) White Sunday show. It was my first time returning to the “Pati Pati Church” since I boldly went last Christmas, and I was reminded why I do not go. However, it was a nice evening, especially because I got to spend time with the students who I do not see on a weekly basis at EFKS, and their parents. I will try to blog about that experience later, but no promises.
As you can see, this week has been a true turning point in my Peace Corps experience. I feel more and more integrated as the days pass and less eager to leave the village and hang out in town. While those days will always be special days with my Peace Corps family, I am finding that my village has become a home away from home like I never imagined it could be. Plus I cleaned and rearranged my room today so I don’t have the disgusting mess to avoid anymore…!
Continuing the trend of new church experiences, I have agreed to attend the Seventh Day Adventist service tomorrow, which will also be a White Sunday celebration. And Sunday I will return to my home base, EFKS, to celebrate with my most familiar congregation. A few weeks ago, I would have dreaded a weekend like this. But now, I could not be happier.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Teacher's Day...please pass the pig!
Today started of like any other day but quickly turned into the laziest, best day, of the school year. Today was Teacher’s Day, the day where the children bring gifts and perform acts to show their appreciation for us teachers. There was about 2 hours of teaching in the morning before the festivities began. The festivities included poems recited in both English and Samoan, dances, songs, and sort skits about the children’s love and admiration for us teachers. Following the show, each class lined up in front of the assembly and one by one presented gifts to their teachers. The year 8 teacher insisted that I accept his gifts from year 8 being that I have done so much for them. That is arguable, but it was a really touching gesture. So loaded up with tons of new hand soaps, 2 lavalavas, a handful of necklaces, and about $20, I sat down thinking I had made out pretty well.
After the show, the children were dismissed, and us teachers gathered in the year 3 classroom to feast on pig, taro, and palusami gifted to us from the village. Beer and coconut vodka was included. We spent the next 5 hours eating, chatting, and watching ridiculously emotional Pilipino soap operas. After one afternoon of chilling with the teachers, I feel so much closer to all of them. Everyone let their guard down and we were able to just have a fun celebration of us. Next on the party agenda: prize giving. After today, I cannot wait to see what prize giving has in store for us! Enjoy the pictures:
Blame it on the Water
For the past 6 weeks my stomach has been in knots (to put it nicely) thanks to my lovely water source. To top it off, my water pipes have been coming apart on what seems to be a weekly basis. So three out of the seven days a week I have no running water. This means that everything water related must come from either the rain or the mysterious water tank located behind my house. The water tank was probably the cause of all the trouble to begin with but I’m not even going to get into that….
The one year mark is just days away and with it comes anxiety about what the next year will hold. Maybe my language isn’t where I wanted it to be. Maybe I have not accomplished the 10 projects I envisioned at the start of service. But reaching this critical point in service does have some perks. I still have a full year and a half to go. That means time for the projects, time for the language, and time to continue coping with all that it is I am learning to cope with. For starters, the water came back on today, so all is not bad! I just need to make sure my back-up water reserves are full in anticipation of the next pipe break.
Walking home from school today I was invited to a neighbors house whom I had never met before. I joined her and her daughter for a cup of Koko Samoa while they were preparing leaves to weave into mats. I surprised myself by maintaining a conversation with the two of them strictly in Samoan! They were really impressed which of course boosted my slacking self-esteem and they invited me back any time to come weave with them and kafao. And just like that, a successful language lesson occurred and I actually spent an hour outside of my lonesome fale. It’s things like this that I must remember.
So to my friends in country, thank you for putting up with me over these past few weeks. And to my friends at home, I apologize for the depressing emails sent recently. On this emotional rollercoaster we call Peace Corps, things are on the rise. Only a matter of time before they drop again, yet keeping my optimism about me is going to help, and looking on the lighter side of things will get me through. Tomorrow is Teachers Day, so there will be no teaching. On the bright side, it will be a full day of praise for me and my fellow teachers – singing, dancing, acting, and funny poems will all occur. And the year 8 students have promised to bring me coconuts. All in all, I can say things are taking a turn for the better. Happy Teacher’s Day!
Monday, September 27, 2010
Daylight Savings Fa'a Samoa
I can only imagine that when the people who decide these things in the world decided to start daylight savings time it was for a good reason. In America it always made sense to me. The days were noticeably shorter in winter and longer in summer. Daylight savings time tended to even out the drastic changes. Yesterday for the first time in Samoan history, this country joined the daylight savings club. And moderate chaos followed. In a country where people follow the sun and not a watch or clock, it made little sense to bring about the change. Maybe in Apia where things run more to schedule it would have made sense, but out here in ku’a territoty, confusion reigned free.
I did not attend church yesterday because I was out of the village but the experiences I heard about were laughable: people showing up an hour late, an hour early, or the church service simply being moved to a different time all together to try to go with the flow of the day. In any case, it sounded as though most services had some growing pains with the new time. The bell for Sa which is signaled as the sun sets did not sound until close to 8pm, and so dinner did not start until 8:30 which was quite a change for me who has become accustomed to eating at 6pm every evening with my neighbors.
And then there was school. For the past year I have fallen into the habit of waking up at 6:15 every morning, making my morning tea (well, coffee and cereal), and then heading out to school by 7:15am to be there for the start of morning prayers at 7:30. However this morning when my alarm clock sounded, not even the roosters were crowing yet. As I lazily hit snooze awaiting the arrival of the morning sun, I had the realization that no one else was going to be on time today and I might as well enjoy a lazy morning. So I slept till 6:45 and then plowed through my morning routine. However, even at 7:15 the sun was just dawning over the still sleeping village and only the truly punctual students were finding their way through the early morning haze to school. Around 7:35 I left my house, well aware of my lateness but encouraged by the host of other stragglers still wandering lazily up the road. I arrived at school by 7:45am and was not the last to arrive. Talking with the other teachers it was decided that morning devotional period should be moved until 8am and school will therefore start between 8:30am and 9am. So, an hour later pretty much. Morning tea time will remain the same: 10:30am, and the school day will last until 2pm instead of 1pm. We will see if this actually happens; today everyone was gone by 1pm as normal. So, instead of savoring the daylight hours as daylight savings is meant to do, it has instead robbed us of one hour of our day. In this culture, the rising of the sun and the crowing of the roosters is the signal to start a day, not an alarm clock. So everything will go on as normal, just with a different time stapled to it. Who knows, maybe the clubs will now play music till 11pm instead of 10pm! In talking with a co-worker about his concerns about daylights saving, he stated, “don’t worry, come April, it all goes back to normal.” He’s absolutely right: why worry about something as minute as the time? The Westerner in me clings to my watch but the Samoan in me tells me to toss it now and not to look back. I give it another few months before I get that far!
Monday, September 20, 2010
Butter is Better
I never thought much about butter. Salt either, for that matter. I personally have never really enjoyed much of either on anything. However, moving to Samoa forced the topic of these additives into my brain. From my first buttered tuna sandwich in the training village to the countless lunches consisting of crackers layered in butter, it is something I have come to expect, and even enjoy, in small quantities. Namely, I enjoy some butter on toast in the morning, or maybe a little with my pancakes when I am treating myself to a nice breakfast in town. The Anchor butter used here and imported from New Zealand is actually so good that I have joked with other volunteers about visiting the butter factory when we are in New Zealand. This morning, however, reminded me of how outrageous the butter situation in this country has become.
It was the first day of school so naturally we were doing nothing but watching the kids pick weeds from the grass and rocks surrounding the school. After watching the kids weed for about 30 minutes it was time to retire for morning tea. I watched in horror as 5 loaves of bread were carefully sliced for the 10 teachers in the room. While one teacher was cutting the bread, another was busy mixing together a concoction of raspberry jam and what looked like a cake of butter. She had scooped the butter into an old ice cream carton and was busy whisking together the butter with the jelly until it looked exactly like what it was destined to be in the near future: pure cholesterol. I could not hold back my laughter as I was served four huge sandwiches of butter and flavor on thick slabs of white bread. To top off the whole experience, the one serving the food this morning was my identified counterpart in our health project, which is meant to kick off next week and focuses on reducing fats such as butter in our diets. I smiled, laughed, and ate one sandwich for good measure before passing the rest off to the other hungry teachers. All of the sandwiches were gone within a half hour. I know one thing for sure: I am going to have my hands full with this health project!
It was the first day of school so naturally we were doing nothing but watching the kids pick weeds from the grass and rocks surrounding the school. After watching the kids weed for about 30 minutes it was time to retire for morning tea. I watched in horror as 5 loaves of bread were carefully sliced for the 10 teachers in the room. While one teacher was cutting the bread, another was busy mixing together a concoction of raspberry jam and what looked like a cake of butter. She had scooped the butter into an old ice cream carton and was busy whisking together the butter with the jelly until it looked exactly like what it was destined to be in the near future: pure cholesterol. I could not hold back my laughter as I was served four huge sandwiches of butter and flavor on thick slabs of white bread. To top off the whole experience, the one serving the food this morning was my identified counterpart in our health project, which is meant to kick off next week and focuses on reducing fats such as butter in our diets. I smiled, laughed, and ate one sandwich for good measure before passing the rest off to the other hungry teachers. All of the sandwiches were gone within a half hour. I know one thing for sure: I am going to have my hands full with this health project!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Thoughts for the New Group
Hi Group 83, this one's for you! A few of you have contacted me, and I am so excited for you all to arrive! So in the spirit of welcoming your group, I have been thinking over things that I wish I had known before coming to Samoa. Here's a little list for you to ponder:
1. DO NOT GO OUT AND BUY CHACOS. Chacos are those over expensive, stripy sandals that people claim are incredibly comfortable once you break them in. Its also reputed to be "The shoe of the Peace Corps." This is not true of Peace Corps Samoa. What I found is that they are incredibly painful, providing the most blisters in the most awkward places due to all the straps, and to top it off, they are a pain to put on and take off. In this country, you are forever taking off your shoes, and you want the fastest method possible: the flip flop. So, do not worry about shoes, you will soon discover "Jandals," the basic white flip flop that dominate the feet of all who live here. They are cheap yet reliable. Where ever I am going, I wear my jandals. I wear them to school, to church, to the beach, to the bars, and have even seen people running and playing sports in them (although I do prefer sneakers for those types of things!) In short, avoid the Chaco.
2. Bring a computer if you have one. Seriously. It's a life savor in times of extreme down time. Plus, its useful for school! Don't bring TOO many clothes.
3. If you are going to have a bike, bring your own bike pump. The ones Peace Corps provides are no good. Also a good bookbag goes a long way in carrying things while biking. Or a bike bag.
4. Bring pens. Specifically, those multi-colored click pens. As you will quickly learn, Samoan students and teachers take a lot of pride in the tidiness for their notebooks. Everything is color-coordinated. It's kind of maddening, but you will get used to it. You will get yelled at if you sign the attendance book at your school in the wrong color. So be safe, have a multi-colored click pen on hand. White out is also incredibly popular. I don't use it, but I recently gave out some as presents to teachers. I have been treated like a superstar ever sense.
5. I wish I had a rain jacket. It rains a lot, and you will be walking a lot.
6. There is actually pretty good food here, so don't freak out too much about what you will be eating. I ate at all my favorite restaurants before coming to Samoa and then had delicious Chinese food the second night I was here. You won't find Starbucks, but there is still some really good coffee around. Still, get in those last tastes of home before you leave. You will relieve the experience many times while munching on taro.
7. Anything electronic is expensive. Bring a flash driver, or an external hard drive if you are into movies. Even if your not, you should probably still bring one.
8. Watch Mamma Mia. It's a way of life here. Rambo too.
9. Go with the flow. Fa'a Samoa, or the Samoan way, works. Just remember to laugh, breath, and be there for each other. Don't question things too much, everything has a way of working itself out. Samoa is a great country to be in.
10. We volunteers love chocolate. You should bring us some. Three Musketeers, please, otherwise I'll take some Milkyway Bars. Thanks new group!
1. DO NOT GO OUT AND BUY CHACOS. Chacos are those over expensive, stripy sandals that people claim are incredibly comfortable once you break them in. Its also reputed to be "The shoe of the Peace Corps." This is not true of Peace Corps Samoa. What I found is that they are incredibly painful, providing the most blisters in the most awkward places due to all the straps, and to top it off, they are a pain to put on and take off. In this country, you are forever taking off your shoes, and you want the fastest method possible: the flip flop. So, do not worry about shoes, you will soon discover "Jandals," the basic white flip flop that dominate the feet of all who live here. They are cheap yet reliable. Where ever I am going, I wear my jandals. I wear them to school, to church, to the beach, to the bars, and have even seen people running and playing sports in them (although I do prefer sneakers for those types of things!) In short, avoid the Chaco.
2. Bring a computer if you have one. Seriously. It's a life savor in times of extreme down time. Plus, its useful for school! Don't bring TOO many clothes.
3. If you are going to have a bike, bring your own bike pump. The ones Peace Corps provides are no good. Also a good bookbag goes a long way in carrying things while biking. Or a bike bag.
4. Bring pens. Specifically, those multi-colored click pens. As you will quickly learn, Samoan students and teachers take a lot of pride in the tidiness for their notebooks. Everything is color-coordinated. It's kind of maddening, but you will get used to it. You will get yelled at if you sign the attendance book at your school in the wrong color. So be safe, have a multi-colored click pen on hand. White out is also incredibly popular. I don't use it, but I recently gave out some as presents to teachers. I have been treated like a superstar ever sense.
5. I wish I had a rain jacket. It rains a lot, and you will be walking a lot.
6. There is actually pretty good food here, so don't freak out too much about what you will be eating. I ate at all my favorite restaurants before coming to Samoa and then had delicious Chinese food the second night I was here. You won't find Starbucks, but there is still some really good coffee around. Still, get in those last tastes of home before you leave. You will relieve the experience many times while munching on taro.
7. Anything electronic is expensive. Bring a flash driver, or an external hard drive if you are into movies. Even if your not, you should probably still bring one.
8. Watch Mamma Mia. It's a way of life here. Rambo too.
9. Go with the flow. Fa'a Samoa, or the Samoan way, works. Just remember to laugh, breath, and be there for each other. Don't question things too much, everything has a way of working itself out. Samoa is a great country to be in.
10. We volunteers love chocolate. You should bring us some. Three Musketeers, please, otherwise I'll take some Milkyway Bars. Thanks new group!
Waka Waka
I am one of those people who tends to get one song stuck in my head and then there it is for days, weeks, and sometimes even months on end. I don't know if this is lucky or if it is a curse. However, here in Samoa, it is pretty clearly a blessing, because it gives me an unparalleled tolerance for the music played here. When we arrived back in October, I was surprised to here Christmas music blasting on the radio and on the buses. The music wasn't just your traditional carols though, it consisted of the most amazing blends of holy music, Samoan jams, and American music, both new and old. My favorite mix was a version of Silent Night I heard spliced with DMX's Get it On the Floor. Remarkable.
Christmas music seemed to dominate the airwaves for a solid four or five months, and then the music quickly switched over to the next biggest thing: Nifoloa. Since January, he has released something like six new CD's, however, each CD is pretty much the same melodies as the previous one just with different lyrics over the original beats. Then there is DJ Ok who spliced together songs, using Lil' Jon's characteristic "Okaaaaay!" as his marker. I love it all.
Recently, Shakira's "Waka Waka," the World Cup anthem, has taken the stage. It is everywhere! You can't avoid it, and I Don't want to. As I write this blog, it is on repeat. Yes,I know I am a bit out of date, yet that tends to happen in this country, especially to me, who was obsessed with other songs when this one first hit the radio. Now, it is everywhere! A bunch of us went dancing the other night and the song was played twice! While visiting my host family today, my host sisters phone rang. Her ring tone: Waka Waka. And then on the ferry ride last week, I heard the song playing from someones small telephone speakers FOUR times!
I can't anticipate what song will dominate the airwaves next month, but if it is half as good as the tunes I've been vibing to recently, I know I will continue to be happy here. Every morning before school I put on my current obsession and start my day with a proper private dance party while sipping my coffee. As long as the tunes keep coming and the coffee is fresh, all is well.
The Island Relay
I should have blogged about this three weeks ago, but due to my parents visit everything has been put off. That being said, the island relay race was held on August 28th. Fifteen teams entered, including two teams representing the Peace Corps. The boys entered team "To a Samoa", and us girls entered team "Kope Keini" into the race. The much anticipated race began predawn for us girls, who although named "fast girls" had really anticipated a slow time. We arrived at the starting line just before 4am. Our Charge D'affairs, Robin, was incredibly supportive of our efforts, providing coolers full of snacks, refreshing drinks, fruit, and transportation! Honestly, I do not know what we would have done without her. The line-up was set with Kailin running the first leg, Erin running the second, Dana the third, Lili the fourth, me the fifth, and Corina the sixth and last stretch. As Kailin departed from the starting line a wave of nausea hit me: this much anticipated day had finally arrived, and over the next 10 hours, I would be running the distance of a half marathon. My stomach was in knots as each runner preceding me hit the road until finally my moment came. I strapped on my ipod and to the tune of Akons' "Freedom" got myself pumped up for my predawn run. As Lili approached, glow stick in hand, I grabbed some rocks (for the dogs), did a few jumps, and took off to the cheers of my teammates encouragement.
The first stretch was exhilarating but exhausting. Coming off of just a few hours of nervous sleep, I was awake enough to run, but it was still a challenge to tackle a 4.3km run at 5:50 in the morning! The day progressed at an alarming speed. Before I new it, it was time to run my second leg! I hit the road for part two around 9am and to my horror started feeling knee pain about 5 minutes into the run. I completed the stretch with decent time, took some ibuprofen and got some ice on my knee. Strapped into my knee brace, the third leg was smooth, but by the fourth leg my body gave up on me and shooting pain inhibited me from completing my portion of the last leg. I was devastated, yet my amazing team stepped to the challenge and like the true fa'amolosi teini they are, ran the extra kilometers to complete the race. Just over 10 and a half hours after we began our team gathered to run the sat few minutes of the race with Kailin in the lead. We crossed the finnish line miles ahead of the next fastest womens' team, taking gold for the Peace Corps girls. The boys powered through like non other, completing the 104km run in a record time of just over 8 hours. They passed us during the second to last leg, but there were no hard feelings from our team, just pure joy as two of the three categories were won with the Peace Corps name.
Peace Corps offers many personal challenges, both emotional and physical. This relay race was a landmark day in my life. I have never considered myself strong runner, yet after this day, I felt like anything was possible. It was so great to run with such a great group of girls, and next year, I look forward to doing it again. I have been resting my leg for the last few weeks since the race but plan to start strength training within the next month to avoid any knee problems next year. Go team go!
Looking Through my Fathers Eyes
My parents are here in Samoa for a three week visit. Somehow I thought the much anticipated day would never arrive, and then Monday night I found myself heading off to the airport on the 9:30 shuttle from Aggies to await their arrival. When they first began planning their trip, three weeks seemed like a long amount of time, yet one week later, our days have been full, although not busy, and they are gaining an in-depth understanding and appreciation for this beautiful island I call home.
Their visit began in a similar fashion to most tourists, with a brief stay in the main city of Apia. I tend to take Apia for granted and often forget to see how pretty the city actually is. While eating breakfast on a breezy corner of the main strip I marveled at my parents adoration of the city. Where I saw a dirty seawall, they saw a perfect harbor behind it. Where I saw ditty streets, they saw the well composed trees and flowers lining the sides. And where I saw a fast paced, crowded town, they saw a slower placed life. Sitting on the street corner sipping my coffee, I began to see Apia as I had once seen her, nearly eleven months ago, and I smiled with relief that inside of me I can still find that beauty.
We visited the market and sipped coconuts as we rummaged through the stations, each overflowing with bananas, papaya, cabbages, and other produce brought in from their family plantations. We visited the Robert Louis Stevenson Museum and we captivated by the charm of the house and the myth of the man who once lived there. We witnessed a traditional Samoan tattoo being chiseled into place (thanks Matt, it looks great!), and we strolled the seawall, admiring the traditional longboats practicing their warrior rowing in the harbor. After three days in Apia, it was time to head back to my village and introduce my parents to a more traditional way of life.
We boarded Lady Samoa I and left the wharf with blue skies overhead and a calm sea below us. My mom and I, who both tend to get hit hard by seasickness, each took a dramamine before boarding the boat and as a result were exhausted and a little cloudy headed. Like a true Samoan, my mom found a nice bench on the boat and stretched out to enjoy a breezy hour and a half nap as we made our way across the sea. My dad and I walked to the sides of the boat to gaze out at the open ocean on the right and the small islands which dot the sea on the left. The sea was a deep turquoise color which lightened to sky blue where the boat broke through the waves. The ride was short and easy and soon enough we were at Le Waterfront enjoying a taste of America with one of the best views of the South Pacific.
With food in us it was time to head up to the village. My mom became the designated driver for the trip and I took on roll of co-pilot, watching for pigs, dogs, and small children, while pointing out areas of interest along the road.
As we pulled into my driveway a child ran out and rang a bell for all the village to hear indicating our arrival. We brought bags of luggage and food into my house and were soon greeted by one of the Matai of the village. Shortly after his visit came visits from my neighbors, and finally from the pastor who my parents would be staying with. He embraced them as family and invited us all to come back to his house when ready for dinner. The community has been so welcoming to me throughout my stay here and they were no different to my parents. After just one evening, my parents felt like they too had been accepted into my extended Samoan family.
We are now at Bayview after a lovely stay in my village. Our fall sits right next to a lovely bay and a strong steady breeze rustles our curtains and mosquito nets, cooling the air. The fale has one air conditioned room with an attached bathroom. The patio/walkway leading up to the entrance to the room continues past the doorway and opens up into an enclosed deck created in the traditional open fale manner, with two beds surrounded by mosquito nets, three wooden chairs, and a small wooden table. Their is a criss crossed fence surrounded the fale with red flower patterned curtains lining the edges of the roof. Just below our deck is a small sandy area with two kayaks and two outrigger canoes. A short paddle across the bay is a barrier island, and just on the other side of the lush green barrier, gigantic waves crash down upon a black sand beach, tossing and turning huge stones and chunks of coral ripped up by the aggressive waves in the deep sea. The beach extends for a mile or two in each direction with juts of lava rock meeting the rough sea and splashing waves up to fifty feet through the lava tube blow holes. It is a unique resort with some of the best food I have tasted in my eleven months on the island and with an enchanting night sky that seems to penetrate the body and make you one with the universe. If you are planning on coming to Samoa, make sure Bayview is on your list of places to stay.
Their visit began in a similar fashion to most tourists, with a brief stay in the main city of Apia. I tend to take Apia for granted and often forget to see how pretty the city actually is. While eating breakfast on a breezy corner of the main strip I marveled at my parents adoration of the city. Where I saw a dirty seawall, they saw a perfect harbor behind it. Where I saw ditty streets, they saw the well composed trees and flowers lining the sides. And where I saw a fast paced, crowded town, they saw a slower placed life. Sitting on the street corner sipping my coffee, I began to see Apia as I had once seen her, nearly eleven months ago, and I smiled with relief that inside of me I can still find that beauty.
We visited the market and sipped coconuts as we rummaged through the stations, each overflowing with bananas, papaya, cabbages, and other produce brought in from their family plantations. We visited the Robert Louis Stevenson Museum and we captivated by the charm of the house and the myth of the man who once lived there. We witnessed a traditional Samoan tattoo being chiseled into place (thanks Matt, it looks great!), and we strolled the seawall, admiring the traditional longboats practicing their warrior rowing in the harbor. After three days in Apia, it was time to head back to my village and introduce my parents to a more traditional way of life.
We boarded Lady Samoa I and left the wharf with blue skies overhead and a calm sea below us. My mom and I, who both tend to get hit hard by seasickness, each took a dramamine before boarding the boat and as a result were exhausted and a little cloudy headed. Like a true Samoan, my mom found a nice bench on the boat and stretched out to enjoy a breezy hour and a half nap as we made our way across the sea. My dad and I walked to the sides of the boat to gaze out at the open ocean on the right and the small islands which dot the sea on the left. The sea was a deep turquoise color which lightened to sky blue where the boat broke through the waves. The ride was short and easy and soon enough we were at Le Waterfront enjoying a taste of America with one of the best views of the South Pacific.
With food in us it was time to head up to the village. My mom became the designated driver for the trip and I took on roll of co-pilot, watching for pigs, dogs, and small children, while pointing out areas of interest along the road.
As we pulled into my driveway a child ran out and rang a bell for all the village to hear indicating our arrival. We brought bags of luggage and food into my house and were soon greeted by one of the Matai of the village. Shortly after his visit came visits from my neighbors, and finally from the pastor who my parents would be staying with. He embraced them as family and invited us all to come back to his house when ready for dinner. The community has been so welcoming to me throughout my stay here and they were no different to my parents. After just one evening, my parents felt like they too had been accepted into my extended Samoan family.
We are now at Bayview after a lovely stay in my village. Our fall sits right next to a lovely bay and a strong steady breeze rustles our curtains and mosquito nets, cooling the air. The fale has one air conditioned room with an attached bathroom. The patio/walkway leading up to the entrance to the room continues past the doorway and opens up into an enclosed deck created in the traditional open fale manner, with two beds surrounded by mosquito nets, three wooden chairs, and a small wooden table. Their is a criss crossed fence surrounded the fale with red flower patterned curtains lining the edges of the roof. Just below our deck is a small sandy area with two kayaks and two outrigger canoes. A short paddle across the bay is a barrier island, and just on the other side of the lush green barrier, gigantic waves crash down upon a black sand beach, tossing and turning huge stones and chunks of coral ripped up by the aggressive waves in the deep sea. The beach extends for a mile or two in each direction with juts of lava rock meeting the rough sea and splashing waves up to fifty feet through the lava tube blow holes. It is a unique resort with some of the best food I have tasted in my eleven months on the island and with an enchanting night sky that seems to penetrate the body and make you one with the universe. If you are planning on coming to Samoa, make sure Bayview is on your list of places to stay.
Looking Through my Fathers Eyes
My parents are here in Samoa for a three week visit. Somehow I thought the much anticipated day would never arrive, and then Monday night I found myself heading off to the airport on the 9:30 shuttle from Aggies to await their arrival. When they first began planning their trip, three weeks seemed like a long amount of time, yet one week later, our days have been full, although not busy, and they are gaining an in-depth understanding and appreciation for this beautiful island I call home.
Their visit began in a similar fashion to most tourists, with a brief stay in the main city of Apia. I tend to take Apia for granted and often forget to see how pretty the city actually is. While eating breakfast on a breezy corner of the main strip I marveled at my parents adoration of the city. Where I saw a dirty seawall, they saw a perfect harbor behind it. Where I saw ditty streets, they saw the well composed trees and flowers lining the sides. And where I saw a fast paced, crowded town, they saw a slower placed life. Sitting on the street corner sipping my coffee, I began to see Apia as I had once seen her, nearly eleven months ago, and I smiled with relief that inside of me I can still find that beauty.
We visited the market and sipped coconuts as we rummaged through the stations, each overflowing with bananas, papaya, cabbages, and other produce brought in from their family plantations. We visited the Robert Louis Stevenson Museum and we captivated by the charm of the house and the myth of the man who once lived there. We witnessed a traditional Samoan tattoo being chiseled into place (thanks Matt, it looks great!), and we strolled the seawall, admiring the traditional longboats practicing their warrior rowing in the harbor. After three days in Apia, it was time to head back to my village and introduce my parents to a more traditional way of life.
We boarded Lady Samoa I and left the wharf with blue skies overhead and a calm sea below us. My mom and I, who both tend to get hit hard by seasickness, each took a dramamine before boarding the boat and as a result were exhausted and a little cloudy headed. Like a true Samoan, my mom found a nice bench on the boat and stretched out to enjoy a breezy hour and a half nap as we made our way across the sea. My dad and I walked to the sides of the boat to gaze out at the open ocean on the right and the small islands which dot the sea on the left. The sea was a deep turquoise color which lightened to sky blue where the boat broke through the waves. The ride was short and easy and soon enough we were at Le Waterfront enjoying a taste of America with one of the best views of the South Pacific.
With food in us it was time to head up to the village. My mom became the designated driver for the trip and I took on roll of co-pilot, watching for pigs, dogs, and small children, while pointing out areas of interest along the road.
As we pulled into my driveway a child ran out and rang a bell for all the village to hear indicating our arrival. We brought bags of luggage and food into my house and were soon greeted by one of the Matai of the village. Shortly after his visit came visits from my neighbors, and finally from the pastor who my parents would be staying with. He embraced them as family and invited us all to come back to his house when ready for dinner. The community has been so welcoming to me throughout my stay here and they were no different to my parents. After just one evening, my parents felt like they too had been accepted into my extended Samoan family.
We are now at Bayview after a lovely stay in my village. Our fall sits right next to a lovely bay and a strong steady breeze rustles our curtains and mosquito nets, cooling the air. The fale has one air conditioned room with an attached bathroom. The patio/walkway leading up to the entrance to the room continues past the doorway and opens up into an enclosed deck created in the traditional open fale manner, with two beds surrounded by mosquito nets, three wooden chairs, and a small wooden table. Their is a criss crossed fence surrounded the fale with red flower patterned curtains lining the edges of the roof. Just below our deck is a small sandy area with two kayaks and two outrigger canoes. A short paddle across the bay is a barrier island, and just on the other side of the lush green barrier, gigantic waves crash down upon a black sand beach, tossing and turning huge stones and chunks of coral ripped up by the aggressive waves in the deep sea. The beach extends for a mile or two in each direction with juts of lava rock meeting the rough sea and splashing waves up to fifty feet through the lava tube blow holes. It is a unique resort with some of the best food I have tasted in my eleven months on the island and with an enchanting night sky that seems to penetrate the body and make you one with the universe. If you are planning on coming to Samoa, make sure Bayview is on your list of places to stay.
Their visit began in a similar fashion to most tourists, with a brief stay in the main city of Apia. I tend to take Apia for granted and often forget to see how pretty the city actually is. While eating breakfast on a breezy corner of the main strip I marveled at my parents adoration of the city. Where I saw a dirty seawall, they saw a perfect harbor behind it. Where I saw ditty streets, they saw the well composed trees and flowers lining the sides. And where I saw a fast paced, crowded town, they saw a slower placed life. Sitting on the street corner sipping my coffee, I began to see Apia as I had once seen her, nearly eleven months ago, and I smiled with relief that inside of me I can still find that beauty.
We visited the market and sipped coconuts as we rummaged through the stations, each overflowing with bananas, papaya, cabbages, and other produce brought in from their family plantations. We visited the Robert Louis Stevenson Museum and we captivated by the charm of the house and the myth of the man who once lived there. We witnessed a traditional Samoan tattoo being chiseled into place (thanks Matt, it looks great!), and we strolled the seawall, admiring the traditional longboats practicing their warrior rowing in the harbor. After three days in Apia, it was time to head back to my village and introduce my parents to a more traditional way of life.
We boarded Lady Samoa I and left the wharf with blue skies overhead and a calm sea below us. My mom and I, who both tend to get hit hard by seasickness, each took a dramamine before boarding the boat and as a result were exhausted and a little cloudy headed. Like a true Samoan, my mom found a nice bench on the boat and stretched out to enjoy a breezy hour and a half nap as we made our way across the sea. My dad and I walked to the sides of the boat to gaze out at the open ocean on the right and the small islands which dot the sea on the left. The sea was a deep turquoise color which lightened to sky blue where the boat broke through the waves. The ride was short and easy and soon enough we were at Le Waterfront enjoying a taste of America with one of the best views of the South Pacific.
With food in us it was time to head up to the village. My mom became the designated driver for the trip and I took on roll of co-pilot, watching for pigs, dogs, and small children, while pointing out areas of interest along the road.
As we pulled into my driveway a child ran out and rang a bell for all the village to hear indicating our arrival. We brought bags of luggage and food into my house and were soon greeted by one of the Matai of the village. Shortly after his visit came visits from my neighbors, and finally from the pastor who my parents would be staying with. He embraced them as family and invited us all to come back to his house when ready for dinner. The community has been so welcoming to me throughout my stay here and they were no different to my parents. After just one evening, my parents felt like they too had been accepted into my extended Samoan family.
We are now at Bayview after a lovely stay in my village. Our fall sits right next to a lovely bay and a strong steady breeze rustles our curtains and mosquito nets, cooling the air. The fale has one air conditioned room with an attached bathroom. The patio/walkway leading up to the entrance to the room continues past the doorway and opens up into an enclosed deck created in the traditional open fale manner, with two beds surrounded by mosquito nets, three wooden chairs, and a small wooden table. Their is a criss crossed fence surrounded the fale with red flower patterned curtains lining the edges of the roof. Just below our deck is a small sandy area with two kayaks and two outrigger canoes. A short paddle across the bay is a barrier island, and just on the other side of the lush green barrier, gigantic waves crash down upon a black sand beach, tossing and turning huge stones and chunks of coral ripped up by the aggressive waves in the deep sea. The beach extends for a mile or two in each direction with juts of lava rock meeting the rough sea and splashing waves up to fifty feet through the lava tube blow holes. It is a unique resort with some of the best food I have tasted in my eleven months on the island and with an enchanting night sky that seems to penetrate the body and make you one with the universe. If you are planning on coming to Samoa, make sure Bayview is on your list of places to stay.
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