Home is Where the Heart Is

Me with a handful of my students after the Prizegiving ceremony.

It has been a month and two days since I boarded the plane leaving Samoa and headed home. Every day I have thought to myself, “I should really write that final blog entry,” yet self denial of the finality of my time as a Peace Corps volunteer prevented me from sitting down and concluding this twenty-seven month blog. Even today, I find myself at a loss for words. How does one summarize twenty-seven months of service? And how do I capture the lessons learned? The beautiful thing is that this blog has already captured so many of those memories and experiences.

Coming home, I expected more culture shock. I thought that I would be overwhelmed by speeding cars, technology, supermarkets, and of course, the mall at Christmastime. But when it came down to it, coming home felt more like waking from one dream to begin a new one. You might say I eased my transition a bit by road tripping through New Zealand for 16 days before coming back to New York, and maybe that is the reason I was not so overwhelmed by American life. I had anticipated a fear of driving, yet that has not been the case at all. I have been driving every day, and even took a few trips into Manhattan already! I have upgraded my Samoan monochrome cellphone to the iPhone (4s) and am LOVING the apps, games, and easy flow of information. I miss being able to throw my rubbish (oops, trash!) out my back door, but I am appreciative of the regular garbage collection, recycling collection, and composting going on here. And I cannot stress enough how amazing it has been to come home to a snow-less winter! My tan is still holding true, and I still wear my jandals around the house (so weird to wear shoes inside!) but for the most part, I am embracing boot fashion, jeans, and bubble jackets. I have seen Phish twice, Mamma Mia on Broadway, celebrated my birthday in a posh NYC nightclub, eaten pizza, sushi, bagels, and wings, and have visited the Jersey Shore. I have made cookies in an oven and washed clothes in a washing machine. And I have stopped float-testing all eggs before consumption. I have also put away all fans and embraced indoor heating.

Job-wise, I am not sure what is next. I have picked up two part time jobs from my past: dog walking (yes, dogs are friendly here!), and I will soon start working the front desk at the Rockland Conservatory of Music, now in their new location. I am slowly readjusting to the strange sensation of living in my parents’ full house once again, but I am savoring the moments we all have together and am happy to have arrived home when I did.

In a way, I now feel that I have two homes: Skyview, and Samalaeulu. I find myself missing my village and Samoan life to the point where it literally hurts my heart, yet tears do not come to me when I think of leaving. Instead, I feel gratitude for the two years I was fortunate enough to spend living in such a loving village in the South Pacific. The friends I made there and students I taught feel like a family, and thanks to technology, I have been able to stay in touch with many of them; one students, unaware of the time difference, has been calling the house at 3am in the morning! I do not know when I will return to Samoa, yet I do know that when I do, it will not be the same as my two years spent as a Pisikoa. However, the experiences shared there will forever remain in my heart. I am a proud Returned Peace Corps Volunteer! Today, the 960 photos I selected out of thousands should arrive and I will be able to relive my 27 months as a volunteer as I create my largest scrapbook to date.

This concludes my blog…. until the next adventure :)

Kicking the Cat

... It seems I forgot to post this back in November, so enjoy!

Pulega and I at Culture Day in Sasina.

With the end of service so near, many families have been inviting me over for dinner as a final farewell. It has been a great way to spend some quality time with those families that have become such an important part of my life. Last week, I ate with two families, this week I have plans with another three. My first dinner last week was with Pulega’s family, and it was as comical as ever.

Pulega has a large presence. He is very fat and a flamboyant fafafine who lives with his sisters family. He is also Ali’s principal. Ali and I often joke about the two sides of Pulega. She knows him as a firm and demanding teacher, who always wears a pristine floral shirt and ie’konga (black wrap around skirt - - - business-wear for Samoan men.) For me however, I know him only as a friend in the village – a laughing, joking, shirtless man, who has a cat and two dogs. Which brings us to the brief yet somewhat horrible (and hilarious!) story of the cat.

I showed up for diner just before sa, or evening prayer, was to begin. The sun was setting and short bursts of heavy rain were blowing through the village. I sat with Pulega in the large open fale that makes up his home, while behind the house, Pulega’s sister and children busied themselves preparing our feast in the fale kuka (cooking house.) The rain was really picking up, so I helped Pulega to lower the tarps, creating instant makesift walls surrounding the fale. The sound of the rain beating down was immense, and for half a moment I worried that the river might come, thus cutting me off from my home on the other side. I quickly brushed the worry aside, knowing full well I would have a place to stay if that was to happen. Pulega’s cat, which he affectively calls Pusi (meaning cat), crept under the tarp to avoid the rain with us. It was clear that she knew meal time was approaching and lurked closely around Pulega’s chair. He spoke to it, pet it, and showed affection towards it. And then the meal came. Pulega transformed from a loving pet owner into a ravenous territorial man almost instantaneously. The formerly loved cat looked up with begging eyes for a scrap or two and “Whack!” Pulega kicked him in the side. I was so startled I almost couldn’t eat! Then, with bravery and perhaps a bit of stupidity, the cat continued to beg with a similar outcome every time. Finally Pulega had had enough. He called over a child, who picked up the cat, and through it out of the house. The routine continued for the whole meal, and although it sounds terrible in writing, the kicking and throwing never seemed over the top animal abuse – more just comical. When Pulega wasn’t looking, I slipped the cat some chicken bones.

At the end of the meal, I was walked home by Pea (Pulegas sister) and her two children. Senara, the eldest child, held a beach umbrella sized umbrella for the three of us to walk under. Jason, to the horror of his mother bounced a ball, and she kept hissing at him “Aua! Sa!” apparently afraid of attracting the attention of ghosts with his noise at night. I walked in the middle of the three of them. Pea held my hand, as we walked home, and although it felt unnatural to be walking holding this motherly womans’ hand, I just went with it. It is common in Samoa to see two grown men walking down the street holding hands, or two girls holding hands while walking to church. As awkward as it felt, there was something really touching about the moment. I will miss Pulega, Pea, Senara, and Jason. I hope our paths will cross again one day, as they have so generously included me in their family for the past two years. Tofa soifu lo’u aiga!

Tattoo, Take Two!

My first tattoo was made by the Suluape Family in Apia back in February of this year. Tattoos are a Samoan tradition and great meanings are held in the design and placement of every symbol. Traditional Samoan tattoos have been such a part of Samoan heritage and culture that they have been around for hundreds of years. As a result, the Samoans have a very different method of tattooing than we are accustomed to in the West.

Naturally, in the spirit of Samoan culture, I wanted my tattoo to be done in the traditional style using the traditional tools. However, this was not possible for my first one, as its designs were too curvy and detailed. Once again, Anna provided the necessary means to get things done that I have been putting off.

Inspired by her travels, Anna decided that she wanted to get a tattoo before leaving as a constant reminder of her time abroad. Finding herself in Samoa for her last country, it seemed a fitting time and place to do it, especially with the cultural significance. Early in the week I encouraged her to really think about what she would want. Over her week here, she saw many tattoos, and she soon decided on what she would get. The traditional womans tattoo, called the Malu, is located on the thigh area and extends down past the knee. One of the symbols used is a star, signifying “Navigation.” After two months of travel, what better symbol could she have decided on?

We went to the tattoo parlor together on a rainy Saturday, and as often happens when one is sitting in a tattoo shop, I got inspired to stop the tautalatala (too much talk), and finally get my foot tattoo that I had been dreaming of. Since my first tattoo had been done with the gun, this time I opted for the traditional “tap-tap” method.

Unfortunately, my design could not be done all with the tap-tap because the flower in the middle was too curvy, so my tattoo was done in two stages. Part one was the flower, made by the gun, and the rest of the designs were done with the pillow, stick, razor, and tapping. All in all, I was surprised to say that the tap-tap did not hurt nearly as much as the gun. Maybe it was the style of the design or the placement, but I found the tapping almost soothing, and the pain totally bearable.

Although I cannot predict the future, I think I am done with tattoos for the time being. I have two great designs to last me a lifetime, and to top it off, they were done in a country I now consider a second home by people I now consider friends. I hope that my tattoos will serve as a daily reminder of the people I met, the experiences I had, and the lessons I learned, while serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Western Samoa.

Halloween in Apia

Halloween has always been one of my favorite holidays. I love creating characters and for one night pretending to be someone or something that I am not. Usually I envision lavish costume ideas that never come to fruition. However, this year, my idea was too good to sit on, and months away from Halloween, I began the preparations. After attending the Magic Circus of Samoa back in February and witnessing the impressive 4-legged man act, there was no question as to what I would be: the 4-legged lady soon materialized in my head, along with all the ways to make it happen.
In true magician form I cannot reveal how I was about to grow two extra legs for the big event, but on the night of the Halloween celebrations, I had transformed from a Peace Corps Volunteer into a fat, four-legged Samoan lady. The costume along with some rehearsed dance moves won me a slot as one of the best costumes of the evening.
The count down has begun for next years Halloween, but if my magical abilities hold true, who knows what will happen next?!

Halloween in the Village

This year I was lucky enough to celebrate two Halloweens, one in the village and one in Apia. The Apia story will be told shortly, but this blog will focus on the one in the village.

A week before Halloween, Anna arrived for her week-long visit! It was so exciting to see her and to catch up, as she had been traveling through South East Asia and had many fascinating stories to tell. Since she had been on the move so much, we decided that it would be a nice change to just stay put and let her experience the daily life of a Peace Corps volunteer. So after a night in Apia, we made our way back to the village and the fun began!

In anticipation of Anna’s visit, I had planned a fun filled week of Halloween activities. Unfortunately, I had not counted on the teachers springing surprise exams on the students, so my first two days of activities were removed. However, with Anna’s help, we kicked things into gear on Wednesday with a mask-making day in the lower levels. When Thursday came around, we did pumpkin carving with the upper levels, and had the students in Year 6 paint faces onto eggplants. Friday was the final celebration, filled with candy (Thanks Ilovea!), trick-or-treating, and a costume contest.

Overall, it was a great success. Anna’s trip deserves it’s own blog and I hope to find the time to get that up before leaving because it was a real treat to have her here, and we did so much!

Craving [CAVING!] for Pizza!

One great thing about having a visitor is that it gives you the excuse to do everything you always wanted to do but never justified finding time for. Anna had told me all about her adventures riding elephants and paddling through floating villages, so I felt the pressure to impress her with Samoa’s natural wonders. Flipping through the tourist pamphlets I have acquired over the past few years, one activity sprung out at me: Dwarfs Cave.

The history of Dwarfs Cave is a bit unclear, and it seems that every person who goes there will be told a slightly different tale as to its past. From what we gathered, Dwarfs Cave is really an expansive lava-tube, formed during the 1904-1911 eruption. The legend states that since it is so long, no person has ever been to the end of it. At one time or other, it is believed that 30 “Eskimos,” lived in this underground layer, feasting at the impressive flat table located just a few minutes inside the cave and bathing in its natural, muddy pools. Although a believable story from the size of the cave, there seems to be no evidence of humans ever having lived in the space.

On a Tuesday afternoon, Anna and I, along with two of my top students Pisi and Sapi, met up with two of the other Peace Corps Ali and Jenny, to check out the cave. Our “tour guide” (some man from the village), dubbed himself the cave man, and led the way through the cave, making sure we got as dirty as possible along the way. The caves have no light, neither natural or brought in, so it was up to us to carry flashlights to guide us on our journey. This proved a bit challenging as the path led us up and down step inclines of muddy rock and through pools waist deep of silt and mud. However we endured and made it to the farthest pool before turning back for the adventure out.

Having just finished reading The Hobbit (in anticipation of the movie release!), I found myself looking around for Gollum, as this cave could easily have been his home. I hope Peter Jackson was able to make the trip out here before filming those scenes! There was not much life down in the caves, other than a few bats. Probably the scariest part of the adventure was shining the flashlight onto the walls of the cave and noticing the large cracks, assumedly formed from recent earthquake activity. I am glad to say we made it out alive, a little bruised and beaten, but overall successful in our exploration.

To celebrate, Anna and I took the girls out for pizza at the local pizzerias (Sekia Pizza). It was a great field trip and I am so glad that we found the time to tackle this cool site. For anyone planning a trip to Samoa, Dwarfs Caves are a must!

Lord of the Rings

Over the past month of school, I have become a champion crafter. Due to lack of activity in the classrooms following the Year 8 National exam, I found myself spending my days in a corner of the Year 8 classroom learning how to weave with the rest of the Year 8 girls. At first it was tricky. My fingers did not want to cooperate with the fine strands of the la’au fala leaves and instead of making mat shapes, I was making long belt-like creations. Then one day, one of my girls made me a ring, and the course of my days were hanged forever. Stubbornly, I did not want to ask for help, so I sat at my desk trying to figure out just how she had done it. After a day of failed attempts, I gave in to my desire to know and asked for assistance. After a 5 minute lesson, I was weaving rings! I started simple, with one color, but soon needed to expand my artistic abilities to incorporate multi-colors into the jewelry. Three days later I have created a small store worth of jewelry. Rings of every shape, size, and color hang from a string in my room, and my arms are adorned with bracelets. I even found the time to create a few headbands, necklaces, and belts. With the jewelry mastered and just a few weeks left in the village, the time has come to embark on my last great weaving challenge: the mat. Only time will tell if I can pull it off in time!

Parade of Nations

This picture is dedicated to all of you who helped with our project!

Today was the much-anticipated “Parade of Nations” for my Year 7 students. When I began the postcard project back in May, my objectives for the students were to raise their level of reading comprehension and to increase their knowledge of the world at large. From a reading and writing project, it soon evolved into an ongoing geography lesson, and in these final weeks, it became an outlet for practicing methods of research and presentations.

Last week, all of the names of the countries we had received were put into a bag. One by one, the students drew country names until each one had their own country. I then gave each student a packet of information on their country, including printouts from Encyclopedia Britannica, a map of their country, and of course, the post cards received from their country, and guided them through the material, helping them highlight key information and answer guiding questions. Next, they had to assemble a paragraph worth of information on their country, and when that was complete, I gave them an atlas and they were responsible for finding their country’s flag and painting it. So after days of preparations, today was the final presentation! It was really exciting for me to see these students get up in front of the class and in English inform their classmates of their chosen country. A lot of new words were learned, and although it was a challenging assignment, I think everyone gained something from it.

After the presentations, we went outside and took a class photo of the kids and their flags.

Frangipani

Nothing beats the sensation of walking past a flowering frangipani tree and catching a whiff of it’s sweet scent in the breeze, picking one of the white buds and placing it behind your ear, savoring the fresh scent all day long.

Teach Your Children Well

Last week was the trial exam for the Year 8 students’ National Exam. Every day, the students in Year 8 came to school to take a 2-hour practice exam for the final exam, which will be held in two weeks. On top of the pressure of the exam, the Year 8 students and their parents were also required to prepare food for the teachers all week. As traditional school feasts go, we were treated to fried chicken and sausage every day, stir-fried noodles, and lots of taro. Boiled eggs and buttered bread rounded out the mix and the koko samoa flowed. It was a nice change, since we are not usually served meals at school (many schools in Samoa do have this luxury!)

During our extended breakfasts and lunches, the students were left on their own, and supervised by a top student or two from the level above them. Being that we took our breakfast in the classroom holding grades two and three, I was privileged to witness these tiny children teaching each other, and what a sight it was! The Year 3 teachers’ grandchildren are both in Year 3, and so they naturally took over the class. The little boy likes to rule like his grandmother and would walk to the front of the room with a big stick, ready to hit any children who misbehaved or got an answer wrong. The granddaughter was much sweeter though and would sit at the teachers desk, calling up students to recite things on the board and encouraging them with phrases like, “Very good, Peni, keep it up!” This went on the whole time we ate and although I felt a little guilty for sitting there watching the children teach themselves, it was so adorable, and there was something remarkable about witnessing the students drive to learn from each other in the absence of a teacher. These children do not have it easy, and to see them take the initiative to continue learning was quite admirable. I like to think that in five years, this class will have great results on their Year 8 exam. And who knows, maybe I will be back to see it!

The Island Perimeter Relay Race 2011

This year I participated in the Island Perimeter Relays Race once more, but due to knee injury, this year I was not a runner. Being an honorary member of Team Kope Keine (or in English, “Hurry Girls!), I was made the team driver, responsible for getting the runners from one exchange point to the next, making sure each runner was sufficiently supported in terms of food, drink and medical relief, and possibly most important, scouting out Mormon Church’s (for those who do not know, Mormon churches have SWEET bathrooms!)

The race was as epic as any 104km run can be. After an evening of preparing sandwiches, filtering water, and me learning to drive on the wrong side of the road, we got to bed early in anticipation of our 2:45am wake up. By 3am we were out the door, and at 4am, the first runner took to the empty road, glows-tick baton in hand and ipod strapped on. In order of runners, our team consisted of 6 Peace Corps girls: Natalie “the animal” hailing from group 83, Kaelin “the flash,” Jenny “kuka and MVP,” Lily “the warrior,” Dana “the killer,” and Corina “CorinaC”* (her name sounds cooler altogether but due to Peace Corps policies I cannot give her full name here). I was given the snazzy original name “Driver.”

As one can expect, the day was full of emotion and team spirit. Along the way, Peace Corps who were not running met us on the road to cheer on the runner and give support. Inside the car, we blasted our favorite “pump you up” tunes and tried to keep the atmosphere light. Ten hours and forty-three minutes after setting out we reached the finish line in Apia. Many of our office staff had turned out to cheer on the runners at the finish line as well as a host of volunteers. It was a really beautiful day highlighting the tight bond that has formed between this group of 35 volunteers and our staff and I am proud to say that I was a part of it. Kope Keine took first place in the open women’s division and the mixed team of Peace Corps Runners took first in their division as well. I am proud to be a part of Peace Corps Samoa!

Keke Pua'a

Keke pua’a translates to “pig cake.” It is a glorious Samoan food combining three of my guiltiest food pleasures: fried dough, soy sauce, and pig (or really any of the various mystery meats that find their way inside of these tasty buns!) Keke pua’a costs $1 tala (or about 45 cents) and can be found for sale on the side of the street, at school canteens, and at the market, but my favorite keke pua’a are the ones sold between the hours of 4am and 6am at the Salelologa wharf. This delicacy has indeed become one of the main reasons I opt for riding the ridiculously early 6am ferry when travelling to Apia. Yes, it requires me to wake up at 2:45am and catch the 3:30 bus to town, but it is well worth it, for nothing beats fried salty meat and soy sauce in the morning!

Farewell to Mail

1:58pm I receive a text from Emi: “Are you home, I have your mail.” I was at home and asked where she was. “On the bus, about 15 minutes out, will text when I get closer. Left side of the bus.” And so it went that on this raining Wednesday afternoon without having to leave my village I received a carepackage full of delights from home, a postcard from Africa, and music to keep me rockin’ till December! It was all so perfect that I must admit I shed a few tears, missing my friends back home and loving the support they continue to offer me, two years into my program! To those that have sent mail, postcards, music, etc. during my time here, it goes without saying that it has been super appreciated and keeps me going when I am feeling down. I will be eating Mac and Cheese for dinner tonight and cannot convey my excitement properly! I promise Samoan treats for all of you when I return J

And as my service comes to an end, I have been advised to put up this statement that reminds me that yes, this experience really is passing: Any mail you wish to send will probably not reach me before I leave, so it is time to return to emailing. It has been a fun snail mail run while it lasted! That being said, any postcards u may wish to send should be posted no later than the end of this month. Thanks to all who have participated, my students and I truly appreciated your support and eagerness to see our project succeed. Thank you!!!!

Manu v. Namibia

“Are you from Namibia?” a man asked me as I was fighting my way to the front of the ticket mob, pushing and shoving to get our tickets for the 4pm ferry. “No, Go Manu!” was my reply! This was to the be the boat-ride of the year, for boarding time was 3:20 and the Manu Samoa were set to play their first rugby match against Namibia at 3:30. Wearing my blue shirt for support I rushed onto the boat at 3:20 to join the crowd gathered in the air-conditioned area of “the big boat.” This ferry is new to Samoa, beginning its operation just last year and boasting two flat screen TVs inside the air-conditioned cabin. Of course, it was the place to be for the match. The seats quickly filled and in no time at all we were watching the players march solemnly into the stadium in New Zealand. The Samoan national anthem was played and a few patriotic Samoans sang along on the boat. Next the Namibian anthem was played, and then we got the show we were all waiting for. The Samoans took the field and performed their traditional war dance, the haka. The boat went crazy as the men chanted and slapped their arms and chests! And then the game began and I remembered that I do not understand rugby. But there was hope! Sitting behind me was a man from New Zealand calling out all of the terms and thus educating my American sporting mind. I found myself really getting into the excitement of the match. Number 11, can’t remember his name, was unstoppable and scored almost all of the teams touches. The kicker was also precise and the whole team just stunned me with their athleticism. I had to feel sorry for Namibia as the game wore on, for they were just towered over by the powerful Samoan team. A controversial play that was particularly memorable was seeing one Manu player practically “clothesline” a Namibian player – at it was considered fair play! Wow, rugby is an intense game! The match was a sweep and at the end of the brutal game, Samoa walked away the victors, having scored 48 points to Namibia’s… zero. Next match is set for Friday, and as long as my schedule allows, I will be on the ferry cheering on the Manu!

I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

In rereading some of my earlier posts, I have noticed a trend in my writing themes: laundry, lack of water, and the kindness of others. Today I intend to focus on all three.
I awoke as usual around 6:30am and did some yoga. While in a meditative state, I resolved not to go to church and at the same time not to go to Apia as I had intended. I figured this Sunday would be the perfect day to catch up on laundry, reorganize the house, and get in some good hours on guitar. All was going according to plan. Laundry was soaking, kitchen was polished, and my guitar was waiting patiently for me in the corner. I decided I should get the laundry out in the sun sooner than later, so I went to ring it out and then as is always the case when I have planned a laundry day, the water was not running for me to complete the “rinse” cycle (aka dumping the clothes into a bucket full of non-soapy water.) I figured I would give it a half hour then try the tap again.
At that moment, my neighbors called me over for the Sunday meal, so I went over to feast of pig, taro, and chop-suey (all the staples of a toonai.) I noticed their tap was running, so at the end of the meal I returned to my house with high hopes for my laundry. But I was out of luck. Not only was my tap not running but the spigot near the store was off as well, meaning my side of the road was without water once again. I called my neighbors as asked if theirs was still on. They apologized saying no, but assured me it would be on again in a few hours. I told them my laundry dilemma and they asked if I would like to come finish it at their house. I did not want to impose on their water supply, but they insisted that they had a 44 -gallon barrel of water set aside for these reasons.
I loaded my soapy laundry into my own smaller bucket and walked over to their stashed water. And twenty minutes later, my laundry was hanging on the line to dry during the prime sunny hours of the day. Yes, I get by with a little help from my friends. ☺

Teuila Thursday

This week marked Samoa’s’ annual “Teuila Festival,” a festival celebrating Samoan culture and geared towards tourism. In Apia it is a big deal and every night different events take place, ranging from the Miss Fa’afafine Pageant (drag queen Miss Samoa) as well as the REAL Miss Samoa Pageant, to traditional Samoan dance competitions and my favorite, the long boat race. In the village however, it is re of an after thought. People gather at night to watch the televised broadcasts and speculate on the results of the Miss Samoa Pageant, but for the most part, the festival is not celebrated.
However, Thursday as I walked to school I was greeted by the decorated faces of the village’s two women’s committees. The village, being so large, is divided into two groups: the sasa’e group (meaning south/east), and the north/west, although I forgot the name for that group. Around 7:30 in the morning, the women of the north/west, all wearing red and white, were gathering at Mina’s house across the street from me. As I walked by, Sineva ran out and insisted I join their group once school let out. I agreed and so began my day.
An hour later, school was over, as all the teachers were planning to participate in the villages Teuila activities. I raced home, but on my Maliolio Girls shirt (from the Samoa Challenge last year), and got to the volleyball court where the games were just beginning. The south/east team was decked out in red and blue shirts with yellow lavalavas and had clearly been practicing, because they began singing and dancing at 9am and did not stop all day! My team was a little less organized and it took some coaxing to get them signing, but both sides were merry and fierce on the court.
The volleyball games went on for hours, and not once was I invited to play, although I had been chosen for a team. Then finally, my opportunity came and I was thrown in. I soon remembered how much I dislike volleyball, and the blazing noon sun only furthered my lack of enthusiasm for the sport. I enjoyed my first game, and then was shocked to learn that my team, although the losing team, was slated to play two more rounds! By the end we were all exhausted, however, in traditional festival mode, we all danced back to our teams shaded trees where the older woman were beating time on old metal cracker containers and the younger woman sang. This strut back to our team areas turned into a dance off with every woman trying to out dance the others. Laughter, song, and dance grew to a loud peak, and then died off to await the next round of players. The day continued like this till 5pm at which point the women sang their final songs and then loaded up into cars to drive home and reflect on the day. I will never forget the music of that day!

Brooms

Today I was able to check off a long awaited goal of Peace Corps Samoa – that is, I learned how to make the wispy brooms, called salu. A few weeks ago at school I had mentioned to Sapi, one of my year 8 students, that I desperately needed a new salu for my house and that I would love to make my own. “Come to my house after school!” she immediately offered. I was going to Apia that afternoon and had to pass, but I told her I would love to take her up on the offer the following week.

So today Sapi arrived at my house around 2pm telling me to get ready, her father, Siaki, would be here with his car any minute to take me to their home at the other side of the village (about a 30 minute run away from my home…so pretty far!) We arrived at her home and gathered in the large open fale to drink koko and watch music videos with the rest of the family. Sapi disappeared to cook our lunch as I conversed with her father, grandfather, mother, little sister, two little brothers, and two men from the store. The youngest brother was not happy about something or other and kept balling up his fist in a tight ball and with the full force a four year old can offer was laying punches into his mothers arm. She just laughed and called him cheeky. I smiled and hoped he wouldn’t turn on me, because I would not be so polite in dealing with him! Sapi soon reappeared with chicken soup and rice, and it was delicious!

After lunch, Sapi grabbed a fine matt and some pillows and dragged them outside to the shade of a mango tree. The children and I lay under the tree digesting and enjoying the breeze while her father went of to collect coconut leaves for our project. About a half hour later he returned and Sapi’s mother, Matelena, brought us each a knife (me, Sapi, and Sapi’s 7 year old sister, Gagau). The girls each took a coconut palm and handed me one as well. They then proceeded to show me how trim the desired leaves to their spines and pluck them off the main stalk. After we had collected a pile of about one hundred spines, we returned to the matts in the shade and began the task of cleaning the stalks with our knives. Sapi taught me how to press the knife against my thumb and glide the blade against the spine of the stalk to strip it of any remaining leaves. Once “cleaned,” we cast the finished stalks aside and continued with our task. Over the next hour we worked together to create two brooms. Sapi said I should take both home, but after all of her work and the generosity of her family, I insisted that they keep one for their own home.

The afternoon was quite memorable and reaffirmed everything I have been telling myself about these next few months: that I must seize every opportunity I can to live village life to the fullest. Since I had travelled so far from my home, I was able to interact with the women who live on the other side of town who I rarely see, and truly took them by surprise when they found me making brooms right next to their scheduled volleyball game! It was really fun just sitting around chatting with them and laughing, laughing, laughing! In this spirit, I had made a solid commitment to not turn down any invitation that comes my way from here on out. So tomorrow night, I will once again join this great family, for their Friday night dinner. I am so excited at the outcome of today and have already made a mental list of other skills to acquire (and where to go to acquire them!) before leaving. Three months to go, and it doesn’t feel like enough time to do it all!

Le Manu Samoa!

Yesterday around 2pm I found myself in a taxi heading towards the market to catch the bus to go back to my village. Low on cash and exhausted, I figured it was for the best to leave Apia Saturday instead of Sunday. Then in an instant, it all changed. As I was approaching my final destination, the Australian rugby team passed by heading towards their match in Apia Park. I was caught in a moment of limbo, and then instantaneously asked the taxi to turn around: when will I ever have the opportunity to watch the Manu Samoa play live again? It was a once in a lifetime opportunity that I could not miss!

I raced back to the office where I found Elise and Matt getting ready to go to the game. Remembering there was blue face paint in the office, I asked Elisa if she would paint my face, and then I painted hers. We raided the offices “free box,” and were soon geared up and ready to go cheer on our team!

Walking to the game which was to take place about a mile down the road from our office, we found ourselves loaded with excitement and anticipation. The street was filled with others decked out in their white and blue Manu gear, all heading to THE place to be.

We arrived at the stadium, which felt like entering another world. High, clean bleachers surrounded a pristine field. Samoan flags waved in the wind, and the bleachers, packed with fans, seemed to sway as the ocean of blue danced and sang.

The game began and I quickly realized that I do not know the rules of rugby. I met an Australian woman who tried to explain it to me, but ultimately, we were both at a loss. Here is what I took out of the game:

1. Samoans are incredibly quiet spectators, until a “touch” is made.

2. Rugby is WAY more intense than American football – they do not wear padding of any kind!

3. The players throw themselves at one another, sometimes being dragged across the field – their laundry bills must be high!

4. The ball can bounce off the ground without going out of play.

5. The kickers would make great NFL kickers as they kick from seemingly impossible angles.

6. The team does NOT always do the Haka. Too bad!!

Overall, I am incredibly happy with my decision to stay for the game. I felt like I was witnessing some great feat of human power watching those teams battle it out. In the end, THE MANU SAMOA WON!! All in all, it was a great day!

Savor the Moment

With under four months left till my departure from Samoa, I have been making a conscious effort to appreciate the here and now while I still can. For a while I found myself caught up in a last quarter funk, desperately craving the comforts of home. But then it hit me, when will I ever have the chance to live in a Samoan village again? I need to live each day to the fullest and take in all Samoa has to offer before it’s too late.

Strolling to school in the mornings, I no longer rush by the women as they ask me where I am going. Instead, I make an effort to engage them in conversation, if only for a brief moment. Yesterday was the epic return of BINGO to the village and I found myself sitting in the middle of the huge church hall with a circle of teachers, in a situation where I once felt out of place but now felt among friends. I looked around the room between games and was met by smiles of familiar faces. And in the end, even though I spend $24 to place and only made back $2, the day was worth it for the memories alone.

Today in school there was no tea to start the day. Having had a heavy morning of song practice with grades 3, 4, 5, and 6, I eagerly awaited the bell signaling interval, and guaranteeing tea. When the time finally came, a fifth grader brought me my cup with a smile: “Rachel, tea!!” I took my cup, gazed into the milky mixture, and had to laugh. Not one, not two, not three, or four, but five ants were floating at the top. With less ants I would have scooped them out and drank my tea, but following the culinary rules I have come to learn over the years, for than 4 bugs in a dish means time to toss it. I took out my water bottle, soothing my over worked voice, and made a mental note to enjoy the moment, for in America, I doubt I would have laughed being served ants for lunch!

Hey, Jude!

This blog is dedicated to Mystery Man Jude, travelling through Asia and Europe and sending post cards as he goes. I think our count is close to 10 but I haven't been to the post office in a week, so I can't wait to see what awaits me when I go. To you, I just wanted to say an official, blogged-out THANK YOU, because without your support, my project wouldn't be nearly as full. The kids love your notes and have learned so much about a part of the world previously so foreign to them. So Jude, thank you again. My kids would love to write back to you and to your students as well, so if you read this note, I would love to get your information. Till then, I will remain your grateful, curious, snail-mail friend!