Written sometime in the last couple of weeks. I’d tell you exactly when but can’t remember. Time flies here in the tropics.
Here are some random observations and things I’ve seen that may point out some of the differences between my home here and my home in Florida…
Décor – home and personal. One of the biggest houses in my compound is a large palagi house. It has one enclosed room in the rear and the remainder of the house is one large room, with lots of windows on 3 sides. Part of one back wall is open to the outdoors. My Easter guests asked why it was abandoned. They assumed that because there is no furniture. Just a large empty room. It is, in fact, lived in. The furniture consists of sleeping mats which are rolled up and stored in the enclosed room during the day. Minimalist, to the extreme.
Personal style, among women, is at the opposite end of the spectrum. The overwhelming majority of women here have long hair. It is worn in a bun, at the back of the head. Usually held in place with a hair clip. The clips frequently are made to be decorative. They are colored, or have artificial flowers or something else attached. I frequently see women wearing 3 or 4 at one time, each with a large flower attached. A real flower is then placed behind one ear. Rhinestone studded sunglasses are sometimes then placed on top of the head. And, for practical reasons, a pen is stuck in the bun.
As I waited for the bus yesterday morning I watched a Year 3 boy walking to my family’s faleoloa to do some shopping for his family. As he walked back, bag of onions in hand, a young woman carrying an infant and leading a toddler was headed toward the store.
She called the boy over. She took the bag of onions and gave him her money. He turned and ran back to the store, clearly sent to buy her groceries. Back he ran, a few minutes later with the items she’d asked for. He gave her the change and her items and she handed back his onions. It saved her some steps.
Kids are commonly used to run errands. I didn’t do it at first, thinking it was taking advantage of them. When I realized that they wanted to run errands for me and would argue over who got to do it next, I caved. I will miss having small, willing helpers when I get home. Who will fetch a cup of Koko Samoa for me? Or run to the faleoloa during interval to buy some ramen?
Yesterday was a typical bus ride to the market. That’s the only place to buy fresh vegetables and fish. Occasionally neighbors sell fresh produce on the street, but that’s rare in my village. Between the wait and the bus ride, it took me 1 ½ hours to get to the market. That’s also how long it takes to get to the internet café, which is why I post sporadically. It took 2 hours to get home because I had to wait longer for a bus.
I got up early this morning, about 5 a.m. It was raining and I enjoyed lounging in bed listening to the rain on the tin roof and the roosters half-heartedly crowing. Shortly after I got up and was opening my curtains, one of the boys of my family walked by. He said “Happy Mother’s Day.” And we chatted. I find this type of conversation disconcerting. Why? Because as we were chatting, he was taking a shower. 2 feet outside my window, while wearing a lava lava.
The whole sleep thing in Samoa fascinates me. Where and when people sleep is somewhat fluid. I’ve had numerous conversations with Samoans who find it very odd and somewhat upsetting that I sleep alone, in my house. Why would I choose to sleep indoors, alone, when I’m perfectly welcome to join them in the open fale? Explaining that I’ve had my own, private bedroom since I was 4 seems bizarre to them. Why would you force a child into a room alone? As opposed to my view at the time which was “Finally, I got rid of the brother and have my own space!”
Yesterday morning I left early for the bus. My family was still sleeping. Generally mom and the girls sleep in one house while dad and the boys sleep in the open fale. But not always. There’s a third house where they sometimes sleep. That’s also where they made the cement blocks a couple of weeks ago. Inside the house. Mixed the cement on the floor.
Anyway, as I walked past their fales I saw bodies in two of the houses and one girl sleeping on one of the graves in front of the house. Later, I was talking to one of the boys and asked how he was. He explained that he hadn’t slept well. Seems he was the last one home after bingo. When he arrived the two houses were locked and the open fale was full, so he slept on a chair on the lawn.
We also discussed who was taking a shower at 1:30 a.m. and then at 2:00 a.m. He explained that his mother showered first then he showered. They’d both been asleep. So why get up to shower in the middle of the night? “I don’t know about my mom, but I woke up and realized I’d forgotten to shower before I’d gone to bed.” Personally, I’d have rolled over, gone back to sleep and showered in the morning. It’s just one of the many small things that’s different here.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Monday, May 16, 2011
Christmas in May
It feels like Christmas. Our PCMO (PC Medical Officer) brought the new guy around for a howdy tour. His name is Dr. Sam and he’s based in Tonga. Seems like a nice, down to earth guy. I’m trying not to take it personally that the Peace Corps hired a doctor for us who used to be a vet. At least he’s from the South, so I don’t have to explain the difference between “ya’ll” and “all ya’ll”. For any Samoans (or Yankees) reading this, the first one is singular, the second is plural.
After a brief exam, Dr. Sam thinks he has the answer to my ear issue that has caused severe hearing loss in my left ear since just after I arrived in Samoa. Likely that I have a problem with my Eustachian tube and it could easily be fixed with minor surgery. I’ll pass for now, but good to know.
In addition to bringing the obligatory stethoscope, they brought loot. It was great to meet Sam and see Teuila, but they weren’t out the door two minutes before I was checking out the boxes of stuff they delivered.
My friend John the Welder left recently after almost 4 years in Samoa as a volunteer. He was kind enough to pack up all his stuff and send it out to those who might use it. Or who begged loudest/longest. Whatever, he sent me a TV, radio, extension cord and a box of assorted goodies including spices, really good balsamic vinegar, wasabi powder, Febreze and a huge box of gallon size zip lock bags.
Are you aware that Samoa is a tropical island? Are you familiar with the aroma of mildew? Do the people who market Febreze not have a clue that we are a huge untapped market? Two large bottles of brought-to-Samoa-in-luggage Febreze is worth its weight in gold. John, I’ll miss you, but will think of you fondly as I use your stuff. Be safe on your ride home from Vegas.
BTW, the TV works and I get one channel that has a very snowy picture but pretty good sound. I get several radio stations very clearly and will have access to daily news for the first time in over 7 months. I think that’s a good thing. I’ll let you know how it turns out.
Next, I ripped into the box from one of my best buddies. She moved to Florida the week before I left. Ironic, huh? I talked to her yesterday and she was telling me about their new pool. She knows how much I used to enjoy looking out at my pool at night, all lit up (the pool, not me, although wine was frequently involved). She said I’d be jealous because she has a remote control for her pool light. I used to have to walk ten feet. I’d just finished doing two buckets of laundry, by hand. I told her as politely as I could to shut the hell up.
Anyway, my friend wanted to share some of life’s luxuries and sent me treats for my new bathroom. A shower curtain and very nice shower hooks. Up until now I’ve been letting the water just spray all over the bathroom and then wiping it up after I shower. Now, I have a very attractive shower curtain. I don’t know if she realizes that the container for the shower hooks has a note on the label “Use container as tumbler or cotton caddy.” Reusable packaging. Very cool.
She also included, drum roll please, a set of sheets. Nice, soft, palagi sheets. Not like the current sheet I’m using that is roughly the texture of fine sand paper. Roughly…get it? I crack myself up.
Years ago I discovered the meaning of thread count. I prefer 800 count Egyptian cotton sateen sheets. When I was living in the lap of luxury with a room in my home whose sole purpose was to house a washer and dryer, I used to change my sheets often. As in 2-3 times a week. In the summer, I’d sprinkle a tiny bit of talcum on the sheets. In the winter, a wee spritz of cologne. “Green Tea” by Bulgari. How my life has changed. Did I not just wax poetic because I now have Febreze to spritz on my “it’s been raining/I’ve been too lazy to wash my laundry for over a week” sheets?
After putting down the new bath mat and contemplating how I’ll hang the shower curtain (there will be rope involved), I turned my attention to the last package. It was from cousins in Yuma, Arizona. Second only to Tucson, AZ as having the best Mexican food in the country. Yes, I know that people living in New Mexico think their Mexican food is best, but when you’re born in AZ, you tend to prefer the AZ version of Sonoran. We can argue about Hatch chiles and red vs. green another day.
I didn’t expect this package. A fabulous reminder of how someone’s unexpected thoughtfulness can have such a huge impact. I did not just rip into this package. One of my family had stopped by between package openings and I let him admire my new electronics. I allowed him to gaze at my new shower curtain and bath mat. I even allowed him to touch my fabulous new sheets while we hummed along to Enrique Iglesias on the radio. I was not, however, going to share the glee of package opening with him.
I’m very selfish that way. I wanted to be alone to slowly savor every object in that package. To think about what my cousins were thinking/talking about as they chose the objects and packed them. To allow myself to get a little homesick because we are so far apart. That’s part of the joy of opening a package, you see. Whoever it’s from, it’s about the care and love that went into it. The actual items are just incidental.
Well, not completely incidental. Especially when you have cousins like mine who are not only generous but f’ing brilliant (genetics, runs in the family.) Ok, so here’s what I found in that magical box:
• Jello. They took it out of the boxes to save room but remembered to cut the directions off one box and include it. I have not seen Jello in Samoa. I think we’ll be starting off the second term with a special treat for the teachers. Can’t wait to see their reaction! And there could be jello shots made with the cheap Niu Vodka.
• Individual size artificially sweetened drink mix. You may not be aware that I can’t drink the tap water here. I have a PC-provided water filter. If I forget to fill it, I get very thirsty. If I forget to clean it, I get very sick (hasn’t happened yet.) Diet soda is rare here. I drink a lot of water. Thanks to my buddies Kia, Poolboy (aka Michael), John and Madonna, I’ve been drinking a lot of different varieties of Crystal Lite. But, I’ve been hoarding my stash, since it’s getting low. Now, I have a new stash with a new brand and some new flavors. A delightful change of pace from plain water that may not sound like much to you, sitting in the United States surrounded by more food and drink choices than you could ever need, but for me, it’s a big deal.
• Cocoa. I don’t know who Swiss Miss is but I’d like to meet her. As much as I love koko Samoa, it’s a pain in the neck to make for myself at home. This morning as I made my 6:00 a.m. tea I was thinking how nice it would have been to have some cocoa instead. I have a friend who believes that God will provide so we shouldn’t worry about the future…it will be taken care of for us. I believe in a balanced portfolio, myself. I don’t think that because I wished I had cocoa that God made it appear. I believe he’s likely got much bigger fish to fry. All the same, the timing works for me.
• It is early May. Easter was last month. And what better way to celebrate Easter than with…PEEPS!!! Have I ever mentioned that I buy all my Easter, Valentine’s Day and Halloween candy at the ½ off sale after the holidays? Yes, I’m cheap. And I prefer my Peeps to have a little age to them. These should be awesome. Tonight, Mr. Kindle and I will be gorging ourselves on Peeps. In bed.
• And it will be romantic, because there will be candlelight from my new SCENTED, FLAMELESS CANDLE! For over 7 months people have been asking me what I wanted/needed. I never would have thought to ask for a candle like this. They included the batteries needed for the candle. Did I not say these cousins are brilliant?
• Fruit roll-ups, granola bars and a bunch of nutty goodness items. Like trail mix. Are you aware that peanuts are expensive here and any other kind of nut is not available? A good person would bring these snacks to share at next week’s training. I am not that good. Ok, Danny and Mika since your moms have been so generous to me, you may be in luck. May being the operative word. (Dear Danny/Mika's moms: I had full intentions of bringing some caloric love to your boys, but forgot the snacks. Didn't even bring any for myself. I apologized and gave them extra big hugs instead. I think they would have preferred fruit roll-ups, but they were gracious.)
• Black beans and chicken bouillon. I have some bouillon from a couple of other generous friends, but trust me, it will not go to waste. Samoans boil chicken in plain water and call it soup. I demonstrated what happens when you add some bouillon cubes, a few veggies and a bit of rice. They were impressed. And black beans…I’m already planning a Cuban night of gustatory delight that involves black beans and green bananas, which are very much like plantains.
• Lipstick. Did I mention that my lipstick bit the dust last week? I figure when you cut your lip by sliding it over your mouth when the lipstick is well below the level of the metal, it’s time for the trash. So imagine my delight when I found 2 tubes of new lipstick?? Love the colors. Subtle. Lipstick is the only makeup I still wear every day.
• What do you need when you have lipstick? A mirror! A giant hand mirror. I used the small mirror I have along with my new gift mirror to see the back of my head. For the first time in four months. Since the last time I got my hair cut she couldn’t show me the back because her mirror was broken and they’re too expensive to buy. Sadly, the back of my head is looking better than the front.
• Candy. Have I mentioned my sweet tooth? And they sent special candy, from Mexico. For those without a map, Yuma is very close to the Mexican border. This candy is suckers. They’re mango flavored and in a pouch of salt/chili powder. Lick, dip, lick, dip. What, you’ve never dipped green mango slices into salt and chili powder? Very popular in Latin America. I plan to introduce it here when mango season arrives. In the meantime, I’ve already enjoyed the first sucker.
• My cousins are not only brilliant but they’re a talented bunch. Terre included some of her homemade greeting cards. Beautifully done and I promise to try to be better about sending snail mail. Samoa does have very nice postage stamps, including one shaped like a butterfly that covers about 1/3 of the envelope.
It’s been a stellar day. It was clean up day at school and when the kids were done doing yard work I played games, sang and generally acted the fool with them. It was nice to see Peace Corps staff. It was great to get the loot. Yes, I love the stuff, but it really is the thought that counts. Knowing that my friend took the time to look closely at the pictures of my house so the items she sent would color coordinate…that my cousins took the time to find small and very special treats that will brighten a less than stellar day. I’m feeling the love. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Sports Day
Today is the May 13, 2011. It is the last day of my first term teaching in Samoa. It feels as if I got off the plane yesterday. Time really is flying by. I’m watching the sun come up over the lagoon as I type this on my bed. A bowl of oatmeal and a cup of Swiss Miss (straight from the U. S. of A.) next to me. I’m dawdling because school starts late today. I’ll still go in an hour early because kids will want to play hangman on my computer. It’s been a good last week.
Yesterday was Sports Day. I finally figured out the mystery of how everyone but me knows what’s happening next. Like Sports Day. There was no discussion or planning for the event. My limited Samoan, though, allowed me to understand what the pule was telling the kids at assembly Monday. On Thursday we’d have Sports Day. 4 teams, or “houses” as they call them. A teacher was assigned as coach for each team. Two Year 8 kids were named as co-captains for each team. They were told to bring baskets with six coconuts for each team.
There was a committee of 3 teachers responsible for the event, but I knew they hadn’t met to discuss it, so how would they know what games to play? Sequence? Judges? Scoring? This is the riddle that I’ve finally found the answer to. They all know because they do exactly the same thing, in the same way, every year. And they’ve done it the same way since the teachers were in primary school. No need for planning or discussion because it’s always done the same way.
OK, it’s not like I solved the mystery of life, but it has perplexed me and a lot of other PCV. How do they all know to come late tomorrow but we don’t? It’s because last year they came late on that day. How do they all know to wear a certain outfit on a certain day? Because that’s the traditional day for it. They don’t think to tell the PCV because it would be like telling us every day to breathe. Duh, everybody knows that.
On to Sports Day. The kids were majorly geeked about it. On Wednesday before the end of school each coach met with their kids to select which kids would participate in which events. Not all kids got to play, sadly. I don’t agree with the philosophy of many Americans that all kids should win every event because there are no losers and we don’t want to damage their self-esteem. That doesn’t prepare them for life, where there are winners and losers. Some get the scholarship, some don’t. Some get the job, some don’t. I think it’s better to prepare them and teach them about sportsman ship with small losses, as children.
I do think all kids should be able to at least suit up. There are no schools for kids with special needs on Savaii. We have children in class who are slow academically. They rarely get a chance to shine in the classroom. Sports Day would let them show off their physical talents. Some didn’t get the chance. That was the only downside to the day, for me.
We started with some standard relay races. Lines of kids passing a ball over their heads to each other. Passing the ball through their legs. Kids taking turns throwing the ball to each child on their team. First game was the elementary kids, years 1-3. Next came intermediate, years 4-6. Seniors were years 7-8. The SRO and Infant Supervisor kept track of scores, by division, for each event in new notebooks, brought out for the occasion. The judges sat at desks on the stage of the faleaoga. As an esteemed staff member (aka white and old) I sat with the judges.
Team members sat on the edge of the faleaoga to watch and cheer on their teams. Coaches sat on benches behind the observers. This was all arranged without discussion. Not because Samoans are psychic, which is what I’d begun to suspect, but because they do it exactly this way every year. Except for having a PCV there, which required explanation to the PCV on where to sit.
After the initial races we had sack races, using 50 kg sugar sacks from Thailand. Which explains why the kids next door were practicing sack races the other night. They knew it was coming, because they did it last year. An aside. I planned to visit southeast Asia while I was here. Shorter flight than from the U.S. But, about the same price as flying from the U.S., which is about the same price as flying home from Samoa. So how can they get the sugar so cheap from there to here? BTW, kids here are strong. I’ve seen year 8 boys carry the full 50 kg bags. I couldn’t lift one onto my shoulder unless my life depended on it.
We also had 3 legged races. We had a longer distance relay race that required running the length of a soccer field. The final event was a race to see who could peel and eat a hardboiled egg and drink a mug of water the fastest. I was impressed that in the senior division, the girl who is number one in her class academically was also the fastest peeler/eater. One of my favorite year 7 boys got robbed. He could have won easily, but the peel to his egg stuck and ripped the egg apart so it slowed him down. Clearly the cook didn’t put vinegar in the water when she boiled the eggs.
After the races, the bell rang for recess, which meant we all stayed outside, but the play became individual and the kids just did what they normally do during recess. The teachers also did the normal routine, except they cooked ramen and ate outdoors. Tea yesterday included the leftover boiled eggs, ramen and sandwiches provided by one of the parents. Avg. was 2 eggs, 1 package of ramen and 2 sandwiches per teacher. I had an egg.
After an hour or so of recess we had the announcement of the winners. They were told at the beginning not to cheer or applaud until the end. The SRO made a very traditional speech, first thanking the committee, the teacher/coaches, me for showing up to watch and God for allowing us all to be there. She then announced winning teams, by event, by level. When the big announcement came of overall scores a huge cheer came from the winning team, which was quickly silenced. She went on to announce the scores of the losing teams. They didn’t seem overly disappointed and when told it was ok to cheer for the winners, everyone did.
A couple of side notes. No parents were present. I was surprised, since parents are routinely there to watch me do the Hokie Pokie in the morning with the kids. Apparently it’s also traditional for all parents to stay away for Sports Day.
Before coming to Samoa I did a lot of reading and learned that Samoa is a collective society and as such there is little individual competition. We were told in training that children are shy about being called out individually and would not want to compete against each other.
I’m here to tell you that the people who said those things have never seen four Year 2 girls eating hardboiled eggs in a race. They were going for the glory.
If you look carefully you can see the ball being passed through their legs. These are the youngest kids.
Yesterday was Sports Day. I finally figured out the mystery of how everyone but me knows what’s happening next. Like Sports Day. There was no discussion or planning for the event. My limited Samoan, though, allowed me to understand what the pule was telling the kids at assembly Monday. On Thursday we’d have Sports Day. 4 teams, or “houses” as they call them. A teacher was assigned as coach for each team. Two Year 8 kids were named as co-captains for each team. They were told to bring baskets with six coconuts for each team.
There was a committee of 3 teachers responsible for the event, but I knew they hadn’t met to discuss it, so how would they know what games to play? Sequence? Judges? Scoring? This is the riddle that I’ve finally found the answer to. They all know because they do exactly the same thing, in the same way, every year. And they’ve done it the same way since the teachers were in primary school. No need for planning or discussion because it’s always done the same way.
OK, it’s not like I solved the mystery of life, but it has perplexed me and a lot of other PCV. How do they all know to come late tomorrow but we don’t? It’s because last year they came late on that day. How do they all know to wear a certain outfit on a certain day? Because that’s the traditional day for it. They don’t think to tell the PCV because it would be like telling us every day to breathe. Duh, everybody knows that.
On to Sports Day. The kids were majorly geeked about it. On Wednesday before the end of school each coach met with their kids to select which kids would participate in which events. Not all kids got to play, sadly. I don’t agree with the philosophy of many Americans that all kids should win every event because there are no losers and we don’t want to damage their self-esteem. That doesn’t prepare them for life, where there are winners and losers. Some get the scholarship, some don’t. Some get the job, some don’t. I think it’s better to prepare them and teach them about sportsman ship with small losses, as children.
I do think all kids should be able to at least suit up. There are no schools for kids with special needs on Savaii. We have children in class who are slow academically. They rarely get a chance to shine in the classroom. Sports Day would let them show off their physical talents. Some didn’t get the chance. That was the only downside to the day, for me.
We started with some standard relay races. Lines of kids passing a ball over their heads to each other. Passing the ball through their legs. Kids taking turns throwing the ball to each child on their team. First game was the elementary kids, years 1-3. Next came intermediate, years 4-6. Seniors were years 7-8. The SRO and Infant Supervisor kept track of scores, by division, for each event in new notebooks, brought out for the occasion. The judges sat at desks on the stage of the faleaoga. As an esteemed staff member (aka white and old) I sat with the judges.
Team members sat on the edge of the faleaoga to watch and cheer on their teams. Coaches sat on benches behind the observers. This was all arranged without discussion. Not because Samoans are psychic, which is what I’d begun to suspect, but because they do it exactly this way every year. Except for having a PCV there, which required explanation to the PCV on where to sit.
After the initial races we had sack races, using 50 kg sugar sacks from Thailand. Which explains why the kids next door were practicing sack races the other night. They knew it was coming, because they did it last year. An aside. I planned to visit southeast Asia while I was here. Shorter flight than from the U.S. But, about the same price as flying from the U.S., which is about the same price as flying home from Samoa. So how can they get the sugar so cheap from there to here? BTW, kids here are strong. I’ve seen year 8 boys carry the full 50 kg bags. I couldn’t lift one onto my shoulder unless my life depended on it.
We also had 3 legged races. We had a longer distance relay race that required running the length of a soccer field. The final event was a race to see who could peel and eat a hardboiled egg and drink a mug of water the fastest. I was impressed that in the senior division, the girl who is number one in her class academically was also the fastest peeler/eater. One of my favorite year 7 boys got robbed. He could have won easily, but the peel to his egg stuck and ripped the egg apart so it slowed him down. Clearly the cook didn’t put vinegar in the water when she boiled the eggs.
After the races, the bell rang for recess, which meant we all stayed outside, but the play became individual and the kids just did what they normally do during recess. The teachers also did the normal routine, except they cooked ramen and ate outdoors. Tea yesterday included the leftover boiled eggs, ramen and sandwiches provided by one of the parents. Avg. was 2 eggs, 1 package of ramen and 2 sandwiches per teacher. I had an egg.
After an hour or so of recess we had the announcement of the winners. They were told at the beginning not to cheer or applaud until the end. The SRO made a very traditional speech, first thanking the committee, the teacher/coaches, me for showing up to watch and God for allowing us all to be there. She then announced winning teams, by event, by level. When the big announcement came of overall scores a huge cheer came from the winning team, which was quickly silenced. She went on to announce the scores of the losing teams. They didn’t seem overly disappointed and when told it was ok to cheer for the winners, everyone did.
A couple of side notes. No parents were present. I was surprised, since parents are routinely there to watch me do the Hokie Pokie in the morning with the kids. Apparently it’s also traditional for all parents to stay away for Sports Day.
Before coming to Samoa I did a lot of reading and learned that Samoa is a collective society and as such there is little individual competition. We were told in training that children are shy about being called out individually and would not want to compete against each other.
I’m here to tell you that the people who said those things have never seen four Year 2 girls eating hardboiled eggs in a race. They were going for the glory.
The beginning of the egg eating contest. They were really into it. Us teachers got to eat any eggs not used in the contest.
3 legged race - this is also how the kids walk around, arms around each other.
There were some collisions during the 3 legged race.
Samoan sports shoes. Also known as "socks". Most of the kids just went barefoot, as usual, but some went for socks.
An action shot of the sack race with the lagoon in the background.
The sacks are sugar bags from Thailand
Friday, May 6, 2011
Observations
This was finals week at school. Next week is only 4 days, since we have Monday off to celebrate Mother's Day. I've heard that we won't have regular classes, but much like the first week of school it will be a time for cleaning, gardening and general mayhem.
It was a challenging week, since the Year 7 teacher was off on paternity leave. I supervised the test taking and then tried to maintain control as the kids were given 'quiet time' to study for the next day's test. Quiet time consisted of spit balls, hitting, wrestling and other non-educational activities.
I'm a believer that busy hands are happy hands and if the kids are occupied, they're less likely to drive me crazy, so I took on both Years 7 - 8 for the last couple of days. They're learning a new song - Faith of the Heart, by Rod Stewart (from Patch Adams) and by the end of class today had the first verse and chorus down. I also had a math challenge between the grades. I'm preparing now for next week because with the excitement of end of term combines with lack of structure, it's all fun until someone gets hurt. And a few kids were in tears this week because of fights. I plan to be ready to keep them active and occupied.
In the meantime, here's some stuff you might find interesting:
Every morning I arrive early. I set up my laptop for the kids to play the few educational games I currently have. Hangman and word memory are VERY popular and it's common to have 15 kids huddled around the laptop screaming which key to press to the two kids with access to the mouse.
Almost equally fascinating to the kids is the copy machine. The office was off-limits to students before I arrived. I suspect the other teachers wish it still was since they now stay away. The kids had never seen a copy machine before and love watching me make copies. When I hand out fresh copies of a puzzle they marvel that it is hot. When I make two-sided copies, they stare at the machine as it alternately spits out then sucks in the page before spitting it out for good.
Loading paper is exciting and a paper jam is best of all. As I open various compartments and show them the inner workings of the machine there is much discussion in Samoan as they check it all out.
I figure it can't hurt for them to see how the equipment works and with luck I'll have a new copy machine helper. They just think it's entertainment.
The other fascinating piece of equipment in the office is the two-hole punch. Not power, just a standard, small hole punch. I showed them how to use it. They were excited. I showed them how to make patterns of holes and gave them a couple of pieces of paper and it kept 12 boys occupied for 30 minutes. One little hole punch.
I mentioned the sexual joking and grabbing before. Today after interval one of the teachers tried to pull my skirt off. Elastic waist, so easy to do. I saw her coming though and had a firm grip. We're a wild bunch in the elementary school.
I still haven't figured out how Samoans are not comatose all day. I prefer 8 hours sleep...in a row. They may get 8 hours, but not at one time. The other night I woke up exhausted. It was light out and music was playing. I thought I was late so jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Then I realized it wasn't actually light out. It was the light from the house next to mine. Then I heard the shower outside my back door. I checked the clock. 3:30 a.m. I have no idea why someone was showering at that hour. Or why they had all the lights on. Or the music playing. They all get up the same time I do...about 5:30 a.m. They usually go to bed around 1:00 a.m.
With my new house,I have everything I need. Indoor plumbing, a kitchen with a small fridge and electricity. A view of the ocean. I did realize the other day some things I don't have:
I haven't had a steak or glass of red wine in over 7 months. A rare porterhouse and glass of good Malbec would be nice. I've only had beef a handful of times in 7 months. Good thing I love chicken.
For the last six months I've done all laundry in a bucket. I'm used to it now but if you want to share my experience, this weekend try washing your sheets and towels in a bucket in your shower. Hang them outside and hope for no rain. Since I only have one set of sheets the rain thing is a critical factor.
Silence. When I walk down the street there is traffic noise, normal noise of people's lives - music, etc. and the sound of people (mostly children) screaming my name. I hear it in my sleep.
Yesterday I was swimming toward shore after snorkeling. Just lazing along in the water and I heard my name. Yup, seven boys walking boy screaming my name. They seemed very excited that I was swimming. "Nancy's swimming!" They asked "Are you swimming?" "Yes." "Why?" "Because it's fun." "Oh." When they see me at the village store, which happens at least once a week I get the same reaction. "She's shopping!" "Are you shopping?" "Yes, I'm shopping." "Why?"
Then there are the things I have now that I didn't at home...
People screaming my name and being fascinated by every thing I do. Wanting to know what I eat and when. Where I'm going and why. Who I'm talking to and what we're saying. At home, people don't notice when I step out of my house. Fame is kind of fun. Most of the time.
I have stars. I step outside at night and I can see the Milky Way.
I have a sense of purpose, greater than just a paycheck. I may not change the world or even this school, but I may help one child. The goal of any teacher.
I have palusami. Yes, there are a lot of foods I don't have but taro leaves baked with coconut cream makes up for a lot. I also have Samoan oranges. They call them Chinese oranges. I call them tangerines and they are cheap and delicious. Don't get me started on Koko Samoa. What's not to love about having people bring you really sweet, rich hot chocolate everyday?
I have laughter. Samoans are good at laughing. The family I live with and the people I work with all enjoy laughing. They don't take life too seriously.
Dogs. The neighbors dogs have adopted me. They now sleep in front of my house. They are the dogs I thought most likely to bite me when I moved in. Now they are the most likely to bite anybody who comes near my house after dark. I appreciate that.
I have a kung-fu panda. It's small and someone puts it on my porch, every afternoon. In exactly the same location. It disappears at night. I have no idea who or why.
I have helpers. I no longer carry bags because I have Year 7 and 8 boys and a few girls who walk me to and from school and carry my bags. I figure they're young and strong so I'm happy to let them.
Last weekend I fell as I was walking home from the store. I fell hard enough that I broke the power strip and light bulb that I'd just purchased. I scraped my hand and knee but no lasting damage. My family, however, now wants me to take their 17 year old son with me every time I go shopping. To carry my bags. I explained that the bags had nothing to do with it, I'm just clumsy. Imagine your neighbors sending their teenager to the store with you so you didn't have to load your own groceries.
I'm off to do a little shopping (without an escort) and some snorkeling to start the holiday weekend. More next week, along with some new photos.
It was a challenging week, since the Year 7 teacher was off on paternity leave. I supervised the test taking and then tried to maintain control as the kids were given 'quiet time' to study for the next day's test. Quiet time consisted of spit balls, hitting, wrestling and other non-educational activities.
I'm a believer that busy hands are happy hands and if the kids are occupied, they're less likely to drive me crazy, so I took on both Years 7 - 8 for the last couple of days. They're learning a new song - Faith of the Heart, by Rod Stewart (from Patch Adams) and by the end of class today had the first verse and chorus down. I also had a math challenge between the grades. I'm preparing now for next week because with the excitement of end of term combines with lack of structure, it's all fun until someone gets hurt. And a few kids were in tears this week because of fights. I plan to be ready to keep them active and occupied.
In the meantime, here's some stuff you might find interesting:
Every morning I arrive early. I set up my laptop for the kids to play the few educational games I currently have. Hangman and word memory are VERY popular and it's common to have 15 kids huddled around the laptop screaming which key to press to the two kids with access to the mouse.
Almost equally fascinating to the kids is the copy machine. The office was off-limits to students before I arrived. I suspect the other teachers wish it still was since they now stay away. The kids had never seen a copy machine before and love watching me make copies. When I hand out fresh copies of a puzzle they marvel that it is hot. When I make two-sided copies, they stare at the machine as it alternately spits out then sucks in the page before spitting it out for good.
Loading paper is exciting and a paper jam is best of all. As I open various compartments and show them the inner workings of the machine there is much discussion in Samoan as they check it all out.
I figure it can't hurt for them to see how the equipment works and with luck I'll have a new copy machine helper. They just think it's entertainment.
The other fascinating piece of equipment in the office is the two-hole punch. Not power, just a standard, small hole punch. I showed them how to use it. They were excited. I showed them how to make patterns of holes and gave them a couple of pieces of paper and it kept 12 boys occupied for 30 minutes. One little hole punch.
I mentioned the sexual joking and grabbing before. Today after interval one of the teachers tried to pull my skirt off. Elastic waist, so easy to do. I saw her coming though and had a firm grip. We're a wild bunch in the elementary school.
I still haven't figured out how Samoans are not comatose all day. I prefer 8 hours sleep...in a row. They may get 8 hours, but not at one time. The other night I woke up exhausted. It was light out and music was playing. I thought I was late so jumped out of bed and headed for the bathroom. Then I realized it wasn't actually light out. It was the light from the house next to mine. Then I heard the shower outside my back door. I checked the clock. 3:30 a.m. I have no idea why someone was showering at that hour. Or why they had all the lights on. Or the music playing. They all get up the same time I do...about 5:30 a.m. They usually go to bed around 1:00 a.m.
With my new house,I have everything I need. Indoor plumbing, a kitchen with a small fridge and electricity. A view of the ocean. I did realize the other day some things I don't have:
I haven't had a steak or glass of red wine in over 7 months. A rare porterhouse and glass of good Malbec would be nice. I've only had beef a handful of times in 7 months. Good thing I love chicken.
For the last six months I've done all laundry in a bucket. I'm used to it now but if you want to share my experience, this weekend try washing your sheets and towels in a bucket in your shower. Hang them outside and hope for no rain. Since I only have one set of sheets the rain thing is a critical factor.
Silence. When I walk down the street there is traffic noise, normal noise of people's lives - music, etc. and the sound of people (mostly children) screaming my name. I hear it in my sleep.
Yesterday I was swimming toward shore after snorkeling. Just lazing along in the water and I heard my name. Yup, seven boys walking boy screaming my name. They seemed very excited that I was swimming. "Nancy's swimming!" They asked "Are you swimming?" "Yes." "Why?" "Because it's fun." "Oh." When they see me at the village store, which happens at least once a week I get the same reaction. "She's shopping!" "Are you shopping?" "Yes, I'm shopping." "Why?"
Then there are the things I have now that I didn't at home...
People screaming my name and being fascinated by every thing I do. Wanting to know what I eat and when. Where I'm going and why. Who I'm talking to and what we're saying. At home, people don't notice when I step out of my house. Fame is kind of fun. Most of the time.
I have stars. I step outside at night and I can see the Milky Way.
I have a sense of purpose, greater than just a paycheck. I may not change the world or even this school, but I may help one child. The goal of any teacher.
I have palusami. Yes, there are a lot of foods I don't have but taro leaves baked with coconut cream makes up for a lot. I also have Samoan oranges. They call them Chinese oranges. I call them tangerines and they are cheap and delicious. Don't get me started on Koko Samoa. What's not to love about having people bring you really sweet, rich hot chocolate everyday?
I have laughter. Samoans are good at laughing. The family I live with and the people I work with all enjoy laughing. They don't take life too seriously.
Dogs. The neighbors dogs have adopted me. They now sleep in front of my house. They are the dogs I thought most likely to bite me when I moved in. Now they are the most likely to bite anybody who comes near my house after dark. I appreciate that.
I have a kung-fu panda. It's small and someone puts it on my porch, every afternoon. In exactly the same location. It disappears at night. I have no idea who or why.
I have helpers. I no longer carry bags because I have Year 7 and 8 boys and a few girls who walk me to and from school and carry my bags. I figure they're young and strong so I'm happy to let them.
Last weekend I fell as I was walking home from the store. I fell hard enough that I broke the power strip and light bulb that I'd just purchased. I scraped my hand and knee but no lasting damage. My family, however, now wants me to take their 17 year old son with me every time I go shopping. To carry my bags. I explained that the bags had nothing to do with it, I'm just clumsy. Imagine your neighbors sending their teenager to the store with you so you didn't have to load your own groceries.
I'm off to do a little shopping (without an escort) and some snorkeling to start the holiday weekend. More next week, along with some new photos.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Food and Guests
Since the last two entries have featured stuff that happened on Friday, I figured I might as well tell you about the rest of the day at school on Friday.
Other than spending a couple of hours teaching Years 7 & 8, I spent my day in the office, typing and copying. I watched the eye exams and was served food and drink.
There are only two reasons that I’m served food in the classroom or office. It happens if a parent brings food for the teachers. That only happens about once a month. Frequently, it’s koko Samoa. Nothing like a hot mug of cocoa on a steaming day. Really, I’m not being sarcastic. You get the sugar/caffeine jolt, plus the hot liquid makes you sweat even more, so the breeze feels delightfully cool. Unless there’s no breeze, which means you’re just a sweaty, caffeinated mess on a sugar high.
The other reason that we are served food is that there are “guests” in the building. I love when that happens. It is fa’a Samoa that when someone visits you, whether at home or office, you serve them refreshments. My mother had the same view, although her idea was of a slightly lighter/smaller view of snacks than the Samoan norm.
When I was in the training village, if another trainee stopped by for a couple of minutes, usually to whine about tense markers or other aspects of Samoan language, my host sister came up with snacks. It didn’t matter if there was not a lick of food in the house. She would sneak out to the neighbors or the closest faleoloa and bring something back for us. Even when I begged her not to.
It’s the same at school. The teachers are responsible for buying/preparing food for visitors. Out of their own pockets. Fascinating to watch how it happens and how the money is tracked and collected. I tried to chip in, but that didn’t pan out. They know I’m a volunteer, so they don’t want to take my money. To make up for it, I bring a huge amount of food for their morning tea a couple of times a month.
On Friday, we had the nurses here for the eye exams. That involved cracker and butter sandwiches and the Samoan version of instant coffee. For the nurses it also meant ramen, which is the “go to” meal of choice in Samoa.
At interval, I didn’t join the other teachers as usual, because I was busy typing the Year 7 exam and copying/collating 110 copies of the 10 page Year 8 exam. I had to make enough copies for the whole district.
Interval is when we normally have “tea”. The other teachers usually have ramen (called seimini here) while I try to bring something a bit healthier. I admit, I’m not as good about that as I should be. Friday, though, I was prepared. I had an egg sandwich and a small knock-off version of Pringles in my lunch bag. Yeah, not significantly healthier than ramen, but at least a change of pace.
Because I’d had the cracker and butter sandwiches and tea earlier, I didn’t plan to eat during interval. I kept working and wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on outside, although on one trip to the door to get some air and a view of the ocean I noticed a group of men talking downstairs. Ah, the school committee.
Shortly after interval started, the School Committee came into the office, along with our Pule/Principal. It’s not a large room and since the copies had to be finished, I couldn’t excuse myself to another space. No problem, they just ignored me and sat at the table at the other end of the room for their meeting.
A few minutes after they arrived, in came some of the girls, carrying food. Two groups of visitors in one morning means two “snacks”. It’s a sign of how busy the teachers are that this impromptu snack was really just that – some cookies and soda from my family’s faleoloa.
Each teacher and guest was given a plate of about 10 cookies, along with a can of soda. I thanked the Year 6 girl who tried to deliver my snack but turned it down. She wasn’t sure what to do. Who turns down free soda and cookies?
I don’t have a classroom of my own, so move from room to room. When I’m not teaching, I’m in the office. I change rooms about 5 times a day, hauling my junk with me. It took me awhile to realize that the kid assigned to deliver food to me sometimes has to wander the school looking for me, carrying whatever food has been made for the special occasion.
When visitors are scheduled, meals are planned and shopped for in advance. The amount and quality of food seems to vary depending on the status of the guests and the duration of the stay. The food is prepared in the Year 2 classroom. If it’s a big deal, the children from Year 2 are sent to spend the day with Year 3. Older girls are used to help prepare/serve the food and do the dishes. Boys are used to take money to the store next door to fetch necessary items.
The most elaborate meal I’ve seen prepared was for the group here to teach soccer. I’m not sure who sponsors it, but assume its FIFA. They are well-organized and seem to have a ton of money. Their own vehicles, staff, matching uniforms and lots of equipment. Impressive.
The training for the teachers who’d be leading the soccer in their schools was held in my school, for two days. Meals our teachers prepared involved rice, tinned fish, ramen noodles and canned corn beef (pisupo). I made 3 trips to my house to bring my hotplate and various pans.
Like the rest of the teachers, I love a free cup of koko Samoa. It’s an unexpected treat. I’m glad, though, that we don’t have visitors and snacks often. Bad for my diet and a major disruption. Teaching stops to accommodate the guests.
One more word about food at school. Traditionally teachers were served full meals every day during interval. I experienced that in Safata during our teaching practicum during training. Parents take turns cooking and delivering meals for all the teachers. Some schools, like ours, stopped it. I’ve heard that it was stopped because it put too much pressure on the families of the children. It can become a kind of competition among the parents over who can provide the biggest and best meal.
I know that during practicum we had a good meal every day. Some days, though, it was fresh fruit, taro and fish. One day, it was that plus lobster, palusami and more. Not all the families have the resources, both human and monetary, to provide that kind of largesse.
One of the teachers at my school was doing a lesson on meals. He laughed and said that Americans eat so much – “They eat three meals a day. Samoans only eat two meals a day. Lunch and dinner.”
After the lesson we were chatting and I pointed out that Samoans eat before school, at interval, lunch after school and dinner. His response? The “snacks” before and during school do not count. They are not meals served in the home.
Tell that to my waistline.
Other than spending a couple of hours teaching Years 7 & 8, I spent my day in the office, typing and copying. I watched the eye exams and was served food and drink.
There are only two reasons that I’m served food in the classroom or office. It happens if a parent brings food for the teachers. That only happens about once a month. Frequently, it’s koko Samoa. Nothing like a hot mug of cocoa on a steaming day. Really, I’m not being sarcastic. You get the sugar/caffeine jolt, plus the hot liquid makes you sweat even more, so the breeze feels delightfully cool. Unless there’s no breeze, which means you’re just a sweaty, caffeinated mess on a sugar high.
The other reason that we are served food is that there are “guests” in the building. I love when that happens. It is fa’a Samoa that when someone visits you, whether at home or office, you serve them refreshments. My mother had the same view, although her idea was of a slightly lighter/smaller view of snacks than the Samoan norm.
When I was in the training village, if another trainee stopped by for a couple of minutes, usually to whine about tense markers or other aspects of Samoan language, my host sister came up with snacks. It didn’t matter if there was not a lick of food in the house. She would sneak out to the neighbors or the closest faleoloa and bring something back for us. Even when I begged her not to.
It’s the same at school. The teachers are responsible for buying/preparing food for visitors. Out of their own pockets. Fascinating to watch how it happens and how the money is tracked and collected. I tried to chip in, but that didn’t pan out. They know I’m a volunteer, so they don’t want to take my money. To make up for it, I bring a huge amount of food for their morning tea a couple of times a month.
On Friday, we had the nurses here for the eye exams. That involved cracker and butter sandwiches and the Samoan version of instant coffee. For the nurses it also meant ramen, which is the “go to” meal of choice in Samoa.
At interval, I didn’t join the other teachers as usual, because I was busy typing the Year 7 exam and copying/collating 110 copies of the 10 page Year 8 exam. I had to make enough copies for the whole district.
Interval is when we normally have “tea”. The other teachers usually have ramen (called seimini here) while I try to bring something a bit healthier. I admit, I’m not as good about that as I should be. Friday, though, I was prepared. I had an egg sandwich and a small knock-off version of Pringles in my lunch bag. Yeah, not significantly healthier than ramen, but at least a change of pace.
Because I’d had the cracker and butter sandwiches and tea earlier, I didn’t plan to eat during interval. I kept working and wasn’t paying much attention to what was going on outside, although on one trip to the door to get some air and a view of the ocean I noticed a group of men talking downstairs. Ah, the school committee.
Shortly after interval started, the School Committee came into the office, along with our Pule/Principal. It’s not a large room and since the copies had to be finished, I couldn’t excuse myself to another space. No problem, they just ignored me and sat at the table at the other end of the room for their meeting.
A few minutes after they arrived, in came some of the girls, carrying food. Two groups of visitors in one morning means two “snacks”. It’s a sign of how busy the teachers are that this impromptu snack was really just that – some cookies and soda from my family’s faleoloa.
Each teacher and guest was given a plate of about 10 cookies, along with a can of soda. I thanked the Year 6 girl who tried to deliver my snack but turned it down. She wasn’t sure what to do. Who turns down free soda and cookies?
I don’t have a classroom of my own, so move from room to room. When I’m not teaching, I’m in the office. I change rooms about 5 times a day, hauling my junk with me. It took me awhile to realize that the kid assigned to deliver food to me sometimes has to wander the school looking for me, carrying whatever food has been made for the special occasion.
When visitors are scheduled, meals are planned and shopped for in advance. The amount and quality of food seems to vary depending on the status of the guests and the duration of the stay. The food is prepared in the Year 2 classroom. If it’s a big deal, the children from Year 2 are sent to spend the day with Year 3. Older girls are used to help prepare/serve the food and do the dishes. Boys are used to take money to the store next door to fetch necessary items.
The most elaborate meal I’ve seen prepared was for the group here to teach soccer. I’m not sure who sponsors it, but assume its FIFA. They are well-organized and seem to have a ton of money. Their own vehicles, staff, matching uniforms and lots of equipment. Impressive.
The training for the teachers who’d be leading the soccer in their schools was held in my school, for two days. Meals our teachers prepared involved rice, tinned fish, ramen noodles and canned corn beef (pisupo). I made 3 trips to my house to bring my hotplate and various pans.
Like the rest of the teachers, I love a free cup of koko Samoa. It’s an unexpected treat. I’m glad, though, that we don’t have visitors and snacks often. Bad for my diet and a major disruption. Teaching stops to accommodate the guests.
One more word about food at school. Traditionally teachers were served full meals every day during interval. I experienced that in Safata during our teaching practicum during training. Parents take turns cooking and delivering meals for all the teachers. Some schools, like ours, stopped it. I’ve heard that it was stopped because it put too much pressure on the families of the children. It can become a kind of competition among the parents over who can provide the biggest and best meal.
I know that during practicum we had a good meal every day. Some days, though, it was fresh fruit, taro and fish. One day, it was that plus lobster, palusami and more. Not all the families have the resources, both human and monetary, to provide that kind of largesse.
One of the teachers at my school was doing a lesson on meals. He laughed and said that Americans eat so much – “They eat three meals a day. Samoans only eat two meals a day. Lunch and dinner.”
After the lesson we were chatting and I pointed out that Samoans eat before school, at interval, lunch after school and dinner. His response? The “snacks” before and during school do not count. They are not meals served in the home.
Tell that to my waistline.
Eye Exams
I mentioned recently that a “doctor” had been at the school checking the eyes of the Years 7 &8 students. I was told it was because of the round of eye infections the school had been having. The “doctor” (who is actually a very nice nurse) was back today, along with a male counterpart to test the eyes of Year 6. Seems this is an annual event to check all the kids’ eyes and is funded by someone in Australia. I’m not sure if funding comes from the government there or an NGO. No one here seems to know or care where the funding comes from.
Fridays are a light teaching day for me and it was a good thing today, since I was finalizing the Year 8 English exam, which I’d helped author and typed as well as writing/typing the Year 7 English exam. These exams are a huge deal – about 80% of the term grade, from what I can tell. They are 9-10 pages long and include comprehension, grammar, vocabulary and writing.
Since the eye exams were taking place in the office where I do my typing/copying, I got to observe. Kids would come in in pairs or groups of three. First, one would sit on the bench for a typical eye chart exam. Next would come a more detailed exam, for some kids. You know when the optometrist has you look through the machine and switches lenses, saying “Better? Worse?” It was like that, except that instead of a machine with a myriad of lens combinations, the nurse had two pairs of old, beat up glasses. I couldn’t tell if the lenses were just covered in fingerprints or spider-cracks, but I’m impressed that the kids could see through them.
She’d have the kids use both pairs of glasses, while testing which helped their vision most. She made notes on the results. The kids were then sent to the male nurse, who wore a headlamp that was strikingly similar to the one my mom used to use when doing fine work in her jewelry making. He appeared to be looking for disease in the eyes. He’d look in the eyes, pull the lids up and down while having the kids look left and right, up and down. He’d make notes and then send the kids on their way.
One of the teachers came in to make a few copies and do the obligatory match-making. My Samoan still stinks but I know enough to know that her greeting to him was along the lines of “So, how do ya like the old broad? She needs a boyfriend.” I interjected, in English, that I neither wanted nor needed a boyfriend, thank you very much, even though he was a very handsome man. While she made her copies, the joking continued, as he assured me that he didn’t have a girlfriend. I called him a liar, in Samoan, which got a laugh from even the kids in the room.
Did I mention that this kind of banter happens in front of the kids? Not the really raunchy stuff, but the “let’s find Nancy a boyfriend” humor isn’t restricted to adults only gatherings.
After the teacher finished her copies and kissed me goodbye, the male nurse continued telling me that he would be a good boyfriend for me. I dismissed him as too young. “How old are you?” he asked. “50? I’m 50, too.”
“No, I’m older.”
“60? I’m 60! We’re the same age!”
Actually, the guy was about 35. I wouldn’t have cared if he was born on the same day in the same year, however, since he ruined any chance of romance when he slapped a kid. Because the kid didn’t scoot forward on the bench fast enough. The boy seemed resigned and unsurprised.
The second boy he slapped took it in stride and they both laughed about it.
At about 9:30, some kids delivered morning breakfast (which comes before morning tea, which is served at 10:45). For the nurses it was “tea” which can be tea (rarely), koko Samoa or in this case, instant coffee that is so watered down and filled with milk it is a dirty white color. It is also filled with enough sugar to make your teeth ache. Along with the tea, the nurses received crackers with butter and cups of ramen.
I received 3 butter/cracker sandwiches and a mug of “tea”. Personally, I’ll take Samoan ‘tea’ over Starbucks any day.
There happened to be five kids in the room, lined up for their exams, when the breakfast arrived. I kept working, sipping as I went. The nurses stopped for 20 minutes for their food/tea while the kids sat on the floor silently, waiting.
The kids seemed to enjoy the deviation from routine that the eye exams afforded. I remember enjoying eye exams in school, too. You got out of class, the exams didn’t hurt and it was something different.
Savaii
We took 2 days to drive around Savaii. You could do it in a day, although it would be a long drive. It's a beautiful island. I'm biased, but am happy to be where I am. Beautiful lagoon and a great swimming beach, plus only 45 minutes from the wharf, post office and groceries. I have the best of all worlds, living in the "suburbs" of a rural island. I hope these photos make up for all the whining I've done. I'm a lucky, lucky woman.
Hope you enjoy the photos...
Hope you enjoy the photos...
The road trip crew - Pat, PCV; John RPCV who had the car; me; Lilly PCV who we joined for lunch and Chelsea, PCV and my BFF and former roommate
BFF in the lava fields
BFF swimming with the sea turtles. She smiled the whole time. $5 for the experience, BTW.
Guess how many times I hit my head going into my room at Vai Moana (stellar place!) My butt is not that big. It's a shadow. I swear.
Outdoor shower at Vai Moana. Instead of shower head, water came out of holes in overhead bamboo. Waves were about 2 feet past the far wall. Did I enjoy my late night shower there? You bet.
Pat's fale - remote and rustic. I'd be happy with the fale but would hate no indoor running water.
Western side of the island. No sheltering lagoon.
"Lover's leap"
The honeymoon suite at a resort on the west side. Can't remember the name but when I find out I'll let you know. We had lunch there and it was great. Room is $85 tala a night. About $40 USD.
Blow holes. My personal favorite stop. I'll be posting video of a coconut being shot hundreds of feet into the air. You can hear me screaming with glee in the background.
What's a tropical island without a waterfall? That's my BFF
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