In a whirl, the last day of school has come and gone, and with it, my first attempt at directing, stage-managing, writing, and producing a play. I am not fishing for your compliments here, but to be honest, even I am not exactly sure how I pulled it off in the end!
In an earlier blog, I described the formation of the idea and the hardships faced while rehearing. In short, the idea came to me while at church one Sunday morning about six weeks ago. This was the first Sunday following the devastating earthquake and tsunami in Japan, and so naturally, it was on my mind as I sat quietly contemplating the previous week while a sermon in Samoan rang throughout the church. Lost in thought, I scribbled down the musical, and by Monday morning, I had a script and an idea to present to the principal and other teachers. We got to work immediately, and six weeks later, a production was presented to the mothers of the school children.
The show went well, all things considered, and I learned a lot about producing a play in Samoa. First and most importantly, never again will I attempt a show on the last day of school. In the second to last week of school, the students were preoccupied with exams, which made rehearsals unreliable, but offered a good distraction for the kids after their daily test. However, being that exams finished Friday and there was a holiday Monday, many students decided that school was optional the last week and I guess there parents agreed, because for the dress rehearsal, only half the cast was present! I told myself that more students would be present for the actual show because we had worked so hard and they had seemed so excited, but to my dismay, I was mistaken, and even fewer students came to school for the final show! I had not cast any understudies (my second lesson in directing is to never forget to do that again!), but fortunately, a few of the year 8 students were eager to jump in and fill the deserted roles. They picked it up well and the show went relatively smoothly.
The parents seemed to enjoy the show, the students definitely enjoyed performing, and I felt a great sense of pride for what we accomplished as a school. I had assumed that my presence would be needed the entire time back stage for scene changes, but two of my year 7 boys really took to the behind the scene action and surprised me with their ability to follow the story-board and set the stage accordingly. I stayed with them to ensure smooth transitions, but next time, I think I know who my stage managers will be because these boys really stepped it up and impressed me!
I am so glad that the show was a success and am relieved that I am now on break and can just relax after such a stressful, unpredictable, last two weeks of school. Term Two the plan is to do an even more epic English Day celebration, and I will write another play to perform. I am thinking it will be based around the theme of “Under the Sea.” I am now taking song suggestions, so send them my way!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
There are Cucumbers in my Pumpkin Patch!
Since my arrival in Samoa I have been fantasizing about starting a garden. I tried to start one about a year ago and was somewhat successful, with eggplant and chili plants sprouting. However, my joy was short lived as the plants were ripped up by some cheeky pigs (or children….), and I, too soon, threw in the towel and gave up on my dream. About two months ago with the help of some of my students, I returned to my dream. We spent a week preparing the area. First came the massive weed clean up, which took two days in itself. Trees were cut, pig droppings were shoveled away, and rocks were combed away. Next came the building of the rock wall to keep out the pigs. And finally, we planted. It was a meager garden attempt. All that was planted were two stalks of laupele (kind of like spinach), and a pumpkin plant we had found growing among the weeds. Of the three plants, one died right away, and the garden was left to it’s own devices. Every few days I go out and do some weeding, but I have not put great effort into this project.
A few days ago I began to admire the massive growth that has occurred in the pumpkin plant. From one simple plant I would now argue that I have a pumpkin patch! After school today I decided to check it out. I wandered over to the corner of my rock fence to check the progress of my pumpkins. And wouldn’t you know, there was a cucumber growing in my pumpkin patch!! I thought it was a joke; that someone had put it there, but no, I began to look closer and realized that 6 other small fruits are blossoming as well! My ignorance and willingness to believe that any leafy, viny, green plant with small yellow flowers would be a pumpkin plant gave me false hope for pumpkins. But now I have something even better to look forward to: cucumbers! Let’s hope the children don’t discover it!
Monday, May 2, 2011
The Singing Spirits of Samoa
Friday night I stayed up late by Samoan standards watching movies and pondering my time here. Just before midnight, I called it a night and crawled into bed. As I was drifting off to sleep however, I was surprised by a strange sound coming from up the road a ways. I checked my clock and noticed the hand had just struck midnight. I was puzzled at the hauntingly beautiful sounds of choir music so late at night but I rationalized that a late night church service must be underway, as the music seemed to be coming from the direction of the Catholic Church. There were no other sounds in the village, not even a barking dog or a grunting pig, and I reached for my ipod to try to capture the late night musical treat, however, just as I did, the voices faded and once again all was quiet and still in the village. I drifted off to sleep and thought nothing more of the event.
The next afternoon one of the pastors of the village stopped in for a visit, and after hanging out for a while, I remembered the voices of the night before. I asked him if there was a holiday or some special service I had not been aware of, and went on to explain the music I had heard. He laughed and told me it was probably just a radio. I smiled at his thought, but assured him that I had heard actual voices here, not from any radio or TV. Then his face turned serious and he told me that he and his wife use to hear the hymns when they first moved to this village. He told me I had heard the spirits, which travel late at night down the empty river to the sea in those late hours. I tried to call his bluff, assuming he was just trying to scare me, but he was insistent that I had heard the singing spirits. His parting advice to me was not to worry. He said it was a rare treat to hear such music and that he wished he still heard them as often as he used to. He said not to dwell on it, and savor the memory of the sound.
The next afternoon one of the pastors of the village stopped in for a visit, and after hanging out for a while, I remembered the voices of the night before. I asked him if there was a holiday or some special service I had not been aware of, and went on to explain the music I had heard. He laughed and told me it was probably just a radio. I smiled at his thought, but assured him that I had heard actual voices here, not from any radio or TV. Then his face turned serious and he told me that he and his wife use to hear the hymns when they first moved to this village. He told me I had heard the spirits, which travel late at night down the empty river to the sea in those late hours. I tried to call his bluff, assuming he was just trying to scare me, but he was insistent that I had heard the singing spirits. His parting advice to me was not to worry. He said it was a rare treat to hear such music and that he wished he still heard them as often as he used to. He said not to dwell on it, and savor the memory of the sound.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Post Card Project
Inspired by the work some of my fellow volunteers are doing, I have decided to begin a post card project at my school. The objectives of the project are simple: to increase students reading comprehension while educating them about the world outside of Samoa. Postcards sent will be presented to the class, the students will read them, and for those who are interested, students will write letters back. Postcards will be taped to our wall sized world map and thus they will begin to give students a more in-depth understanding and vision of the map.
I am asking any and all interested people worldwide to take a minute of your time to assist me in this simple yet rewarding project. If you or someone you know would like to participate, send a postcard of your city, state, country (or vacation destinations!), and tell my students some information of your choice. Fun facts about the featured location, facts about your life, your profession, etc, would be great. Like I said, this is a very flexible and free project, and the more postcards we get, the better the project will be!
If you are ready, get out a pen and find yourself a postcard and send some mail our way, I look forward to hearing from you!
Peace Corps Samoa
Rachel Goldstein, PVC
Private Mail Box 7139
Salelologa, Savaii
Western Samoa
**If you would like us to write back to you, send me a note with your address: Goldstein.rachel.a@gmail.com
Passover 2011
Tuesday night 7 of us gathered in Asau to observe Passover. Of the Peace Corps volunteers, Lili, Elisa, Dana, Matt, Jeter, and myself were present, and Matt’s JICA roommate Dai joined us as well. It was a nice mix of people! Last year we had gone to Lili’s village and cooked the feast at her house, but due to time constraints this year, we made the meal more of a potluck, and it was greatly successful! A week before, Lily divided up the staple items and everyone was asked to make enough of their item for the whole group. I was in charge of cooking matzo and the charosets, and although neither were my dad’s cooking, I made a pretty close second on the apple-honey-nut mixture of charosets. I used my slap chop and had a lot of fun! Matt has a limited kitchen, so he boiled the eggs while his roommate made a delicious salad. Elisa conquered the market and made a beautiful vegetable soup, while Jeter conquered his fear of cooking meat and prepared a lamb stew. Lili cooked matzo and potato pancakes, and Dana topped the pancakes off with homemade applesauce.
It was a really lovely meal, but as always, the most special aspect of the dinner was the company. It was great to come together, retell the story, and share a special meal with people I consider family at this point.
Following dinner we sang songs while Matt played guitar, told stories, and swapped classroom experience tales. Then in true Samoan fashion, we took out our lavalavas, spread out woven mats on the floor, and drifted off to sleep.
It was a really lovely meal, but as always, the most special aspect of the dinner was the company. It was great to come together, retell the story, and share a special meal with people I consider family at this point.
Following dinner we sang songs while Matt played guitar, told stories, and swapped classroom experience tales. Then in true Samoan fashion, we took out our lavalavas, spread out woven mats on the floor, and drifted off to sleep.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Farewell to the Dancing King
Sunday night while watching a movie I received a call from an unknown number. Usually I do not answer numbers I do not recognize because 9 times out of 10 it is a random taxi driver or man who has somehow come across my number. However, something compelled me to answer the phone this one time, and as it turned out, it was my host sister from my training village calling with some very sad news: my beloved host father had past away the day before and she wanted to let me know of the funeral plans.
I was overwhelmed with emotion. I knew he had been sick but I did not realize just how sick he had been. Of course I agreed to go to the funeral which was to be held Wednesday morning, all the way back in the host village. Lili and I travelled there together as she had been very close with my family as well. Unfortunately transportation can be pretty unreliable here and as a result we missed the bus to take us to the ferry, and as a result did not arrive in the village till about noon. The trip in deserves it’s own blog. In the end, we made it though and were able to spend the day with my host mother, sister, and five brothers, as well as the rest of the Manunu community.
My host father, Asa, will be remembered for his great laugh, incredible cooking, and world class dance moves. He was so good to me, and I am still in shock that he is gone. Instead of describing the funeral, I would like to capture some of the many memories we shared together in the short two months that I lived in his family home.
Asa was an incredible cook. I was the envy of all the Peace Corps in training, because while they were eating white bread and butter for three meals a day, I was served homemade pizza’s, steak, salads, tuna sandwiches (with cucumber!), and of course, his signature dish, chop-suey. Asa had been a chef at a college and I greatly benefited from his experience. Going back to the village, my brothers teased me, poking me and saying I was nice and fat when Asa fed me, but now that I have left the house I am too skinny. Maybe there is some truth in that – although as an American, it does feel great to have people constantly telling me I am too skinny!
Asa did not believe in exercise. When I first arrived, I asked his permission to go for morning runs with my friends. I would have to wake up at 5 and be out the door by 5:30, otherwise it was too hot, but at first, Asa did not approve. For my first week, he insisted that it was unhealthy to run that early in the morning, but he offered a compromise. He would let me go for a walk with him at 6am. The first time we walked, we decided to go to the new store about a 20-minute walk from our village. Leading the way up a grassy dirt road, Asa took me to the store, and although the storefront window was boarded closed (because it was only 6:30 in the morning!), Asa pounded on the window, woke the sleeping family inside, and bought me a coca cola and a bag of chicken flavored chips. Definitely not my definition of breakfast, but it was his gesture of providing for his adopted daughter. I could not refuse! He did eventually grant me permission to run, but I am glad we got to share a few morning walks.
His dancing was superior to anyone I have ever met. Asa was the dance champion of Samoa back in the 1970’s and he travelled to American Samoa to compete in a competition, which he won! Forty years later, his dance moves were a creative blend of Disco, Michael Jackson, Hip Hop, and Siva Samoa. It was truly a sight to see, and us volunteers would fight over who got to dance with him at the weekly dancing during training.
One morning I came out for breakfast and there was a beautiful flower on the table, called the Christmas Flower. He had picked it for me to wear behind my ear to school. I told him how much I loved it, and from then on, I had flowers waiting for me almost daily at breakfast.
He had a pool table behind the house and at night the villagers would come over to play. Asa made money by charging them $2 per game. I once asked to play, and he asked if I had money. I thought it was ridiculous to have to pay at my own house so I didn’t. Later that day, he told me I could play one game, but then he had to get back to his business. He was a funny guy like that.
Sometimes I would bring out my guitar, and Asa would pick it up and pretending he knew how to play, would strum wildly and laugh and sing American pop tunes.
It is a shame that he passed away so early. He was full of life and had some much love to give. He played a significant role in my adjustment to Samoan life and for that I will forever be grateful.
I was overwhelmed with emotion. I knew he had been sick but I did not realize just how sick he had been. Of course I agreed to go to the funeral which was to be held Wednesday morning, all the way back in the host village. Lili and I travelled there together as she had been very close with my family as well. Unfortunately transportation can be pretty unreliable here and as a result we missed the bus to take us to the ferry, and as a result did not arrive in the village till about noon. The trip in deserves it’s own blog. In the end, we made it though and were able to spend the day with my host mother, sister, and five brothers, as well as the rest of the Manunu community.
My host father, Asa, will be remembered for his great laugh, incredible cooking, and world class dance moves. He was so good to me, and I am still in shock that he is gone. Instead of describing the funeral, I would like to capture some of the many memories we shared together in the short two months that I lived in his family home.
Asa was an incredible cook. I was the envy of all the Peace Corps in training, because while they were eating white bread and butter for three meals a day, I was served homemade pizza’s, steak, salads, tuna sandwiches (with cucumber!), and of course, his signature dish, chop-suey. Asa had been a chef at a college and I greatly benefited from his experience. Going back to the village, my brothers teased me, poking me and saying I was nice and fat when Asa fed me, but now that I have left the house I am too skinny. Maybe there is some truth in that – although as an American, it does feel great to have people constantly telling me I am too skinny!
Asa did not believe in exercise. When I first arrived, I asked his permission to go for morning runs with my friends. I would have to wake up at 5 and be out the door by 5:30, otherwise it was too hot, but at first, Asa did not approve. For my first week, he insisted that it was unhealthy to run that early in the morning, but he offered a compromise. He would let me go for a walk with him at 6am. The first time we walked, we decided to go to the new store about a 20-minute walk from our village. Leading the way up a grassy dirt road, Asa took me to the store, and although the storefront window was boarded closed (because it was only 6:30 in the morning!), Asa pounded on the window, woke the sleeping family inside, and bought me a coca cola and a bag of chicken flavored chips. Definitely not my definition of breakfast, but it was his gesture of providing for his adopted daughter. I could not refuse! He did eventually grant me permission to run, but I am glad we got to share a few morning walks.
His dancing was superior to anyone I have ever met. Asa was the dance champion of Samoa back in the 1970’s and he travelled to American Samoa to compete in a competition, which he won! Forty years later, his dance moves were a creative blend of Disco, Michael Jackson, Hip Hop, and Siva Samoa. It was truly a sight to see, and us volunteers would fight over who got to dance with him at the weekly dancing during training.
One morning I came out for breakfast and there was a beautiful flower on the table, called the Christmas Flower. He had picked it for me to wear behind my ear to school. I told him how much I loved it, and from then on, I had flowers waiting for me almost daily at breakfast.
He had a pool table behind the house and at night the villagers would come over to play. Asa made money by charging them $2 per game. I once asked to play, and he asked if I had money. I thought it was ridiculous to have to pay at my own house so I didn’t. Later that day, he told me I could play one game, but then he had to get back to his business. He was a funny guy like that.
Sometimes I would bring out my guitar, and Asa would pick it up and pretending he knew how to play, would strum wildly and laugh and sing American pop tunes.
It is a shame that he passed away so early. He was full of life and had some much love to give. He played a significant role in my adjustment to Samoan life and for that I will forever be grateful.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
A New Job - Soccer Coach!
I am now the soccer coach for the year 5 and 6 girls at my school. Practice started last Monday and we practiced every day after schiool for 2 hours. Then Thursday, we loaded up a bus with 125 excited children and headed to our first game.
The other teams of our district arrived one by one, and by noon there were 6 schools, about 700 children, sitting and singing in the main hall, pumping themselves up for the game. Teachers were standing around the perimeter with sticks to keep any rowdy children in line, but thankfully they were rarely used. As I listened to the singing children, it dawned on me: while every school was singing in Samoan, my children were singing all their songs in English! We ran through the English Day program, to the pride of my staff and the envy of all the others. It was a really awesome moment.
Then the games began and my girls were up first. I have a lot of pride when I say that of all the games played that day, we were the only team to score a goal during actual game time. We ended up winning 2-0, and although I am not that win-obsessed, it felt great to have my team win their first game. I am a new coach and they are new players. We have a long ways to go, but come the end of May, I am hoping we qualify for finals, and maybe, just maybe, we will be the juior champions of Samoa! Two months till the final tourdement. It’s anyones game at this point, but I know, we want it bad!
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