Tranquility in Paradise

When you think of a tropical island in the South Pacific, do you envision silence?  Disturbed only by gentle waves lapping on the beach and birds chirping quietly in the jungle?  Sorry, my brothers and sisters, but you are incorrect. 

Here’s a blow by blow of my last night in Savaii before vacation. 

10:30 p.m.  I turn out the light and a few minutes later I’m in dreamland.  A happy place with air conditioning and no bugs.

11:16 p.m.  I was awakened by the sound of children’s laughter.  Actually, it was the boys in the family who are 23, 21, 18 and 14.  I believe the cousins who live on the other side of my house were with them.  They are 13 and 16.   They were in the fale closest to my house.  They were very happy.  Unfortunately for me, that was expressed by braying like donkeys and squeals of glee.   Much better than yelling in anger or pain but still makes it hard to sleep.

12:45 a.m.  The boys are still laughing and talking.  One thing about Samoans, they can laugh for hours.  Drunk or sober.   In tonight’s case I believe at least the older boys mirth was partially alcohol induced.  Samoans don’t just chuckle, they go for full on belly laughs.  And most have a similar laugh.  Women have a certain laugh that you can recognize a mile away (or at least a couple hundred yards) and the men have a male version.  Good for them for letting it all out and enjoying living the moment.  I just wish they could do it a bit further away from my bed.

1:15’ish a.m.  I doze back off.

2:35 a.m.  War breaks out between the pigs and dogs that sleep on either side of my fale.  I believe the dogs won the skirmish, since I heard a lot of piggy squealing as they headed to the back of the compound.

4:16 a.m.  Dear God, there’s something on me, get it off, get it off, get it off!  I felt something slide across my face and leaped out of bed.  No mean feat for a woman of my size and age.  As I stood there, breathless and confused, heart pounding, I realized a massive storm had blown in.  The wind had blown the curtain across my face.  Ok, back under the sheet.  The wind kept blowing the curtain and a mist of rain onto me.  I lay there, listening to the thunder and watching the strobe-like effect of the lightening through the blowing curtain.

4:42 a.m.  A brilliant flash of light inside my fale and the smell of ozone.  Lightening  must have hit the tree over my fale.  Electricity is out but my computer escaped unscathed.  After unplugging everything to make sure nothing is on fire, I crawl back under the sheet, scratching bug bites and wiping rain off my face.

5:00 a.m.  I’m waiting for the church bells.  They don’t happen.  I fall back to sleep.

5:30 a.m.  Brother’s alarm goes off.  He hits snooze.  Six times.  I counted.  I’d like to meet the sick individual who researched the most annoying sound possible to use to yank people out of a perfectl y nice dream.  My brother didn’t get up for another two hours, by the way.

5:40 a.m.  Pig and dog war erupts again.  This time the pigs are battling some really stupid 6 month old puppies who think their barking is going to scare a 300 pound boar.  Pigs are still at my fale.  Puppies are running back to their house, barking all the way.

6:20 a.m.  Ah, the sound of morning in Samoa.  Roosters, birds chirping and the family stereo playing full blast.  Another Saturday morning in paradise.

6:35 a.m.  Clearly it’s time to feed the pigs.  They’re squealing and my neighbor is standing inside the front fale yelling for his son to get up.  He sleeps in the fale next to mine.  He just yells his name.  Over and over. 

6:40 a.m.  I’m up.  The rain has eased a bit.  There’s music now from both houses.

7:55 a.m.  My neighbor finally came back to the fale to wake up the son to feed the pigs.  Now, instead of yelling from the front house, he’s standing 15 feet away from my fale, just outside where is son is sleeping.  Instead of just yelling his name, he alternates with “sole” (dude).  I just heard a teen age grunt.  Maybe the yelling will stop.  Please, make the squealing of the pigs stop, Clarice.

Last Day, Term 1

Today was officially the last day of the first term.  It’s also my last day in Savaii before leaving tomorrow on vacation.  My boss, the teachers and kids acted as if I was leaving forever.  I kept reminding them I’ll be back before school starts in three weeks.  Nice to know I’ll be missed.  One of the teachers reminded me to bring gifts.  I told her I was bringing her Ramen noodles, which is what we eat for lunch every  day.  She told me to bring chocolate instead.

I was the first teacher at school.  The few kids who came early joined me in the office.  They thought they’d get to continue watching The Lion King but I had a surprise.  I downloaded the photos and video I’d taken during Sports Day and we had a slideshow, followed by videos of the sack races and tug of wars.  The kids enjoyed them.

Today was very low key.  No decorations, no dancing, just speeches and announcing the top students in each class.  Things started about 8:15 a.m. when I was told to start singing with the kids.  I led songs and controlled mayhem until about 8:45 when I ran out of impromptu ways to amuse 250 kids and parents.

The ceremony itself was typically casual.  People talking and wandering around.  I took photos while the rest of the teachers huddled together to finish their grades and report cards.  Mid-way through the program, the principal drove off.  Seems he left his cell phone at home.  One teacher arrived about an hour into the program, just in time to announce his grades.

After announcing the grades, each class was supposed to perform a song or poem in honor of Mother’s Day.   One of the teachers was absent the other day and I was subbing so got the opportunity to teach them a poem.  I wrote it and they learned it, all in less than an hour.  Two girls recited it first, then the class recited it together.  I was very concerned but they were stellar.

After the ceremony, most kids went home.  Year 8 stayed to help with cleanup and a few of my fans hung around just because.  I headed to the office to upload the photos.  I wanted to get them off my camera before I go to New Zealand.

As I was packing up my stuff and getting the office cleaned up, a kid came and told me it was eating time and I should go downstairs.  I hadn’t seen any food so was a bit surprised.  The School Resource Officer had purchased fish or chicken plates with coleslaw and fries from the only fast food restaurant on the island.  She said she did it because I was leaving.  It was a very generous gesture and although my fish and chips had been sitting out for a few hours, they were tasty.

After too many rounds of goodbyes and hugs, we headed our separate ways.  I decided to go to the post office in town.  About 30 seconds into the ride I realized I’d made a huge mistake.  I thought an early afternoon bus ride would be relaxing.  I hadn’t considered it was the end of term for everyone plus big crowds doing Mother’s Day shopping. 

I thought the bus couldn’t hold another person when we stopped to pick up 13 high school students.  I was in the front seat, crammed in with my knees pressed into the metal bars in front of me.  As the kids got on, several had to stand on the stairs in front of me.  A couple were forced to lean over the metal railing so they were halfway in my lap.  Two guys were hanging out the door, holding on by looping their arms through the window next to me.  It was cozy.

That’s when it hit me.  The Post Office was closed for lunch.  Hmmm, what to do.  I could get off and just stand around for 45 minutes until it reopened.  But it was hot.  I could stay on the bus to the market and just wait the 30 minutes or so until it started the return trip and get off then.  Or, I could take the bus to the fast food place and get an icy cold smoothie.  Yes!

When I got off the bus, I noticed the parking lot was jammed and there were a lot of police standing around.  Had there been a robbery?  Fight?  Nope, just a bunch of people in the mood for fried chicken.  I stepped inside and saw there were no empty seats.  I looked at the row of tickets hanging in the kitchen, waiting to be served.  I knew that even though I just wanted a beverage, my ticket would be taken after all those ahead of me.

What the heck, I had to wait any way, I might as well be rewarded with a smoothie.  While I waited, I chatted with a woman who lives in a nearby village where there is another Pisi Koa (Peace Corps Volunteer).  She asked how old I was and when I told her, said “That is too old.”  I get that a lot.  Too old for…?  Working?  Living?  Living in Samoa?  Maybe I have an expiration date stamped on my forehead that I never noticed.

After waiting almost an hour in the crowded restaurant, which is not air conditioned, I got my smoothie and headed to the road.  A few minutes later, my “good” bus came by and I hopped on.  I considered the fact that I had a seat and a smoothie.  I would check mail another day. 

Now I’m home and I’ve already taken a quick shower to rinse off the sweat.  Rap music is blasting from the house closest to me.  The house in front of me has the TV on at full volume.   Based on all the activity in Salelologa today, I’m guessing that tomorrow morning, which is normally the big shopping day for the week is going to be a nightmare.  But if I want to get to the ferry, I have to catch a bus.

It will make the quiet and luxuries in New Zealand all the sweeter.

People in Samoa Who Make Me Happy

First, I’d like to talk about my pe’u (boyfriend), Julius.  He has a drooling problem and can’t sit up on his own for long but has the most enchanting grin.  He’s shy and when I talk to him he laughs then plants his face downward.  Usually into a mattress.  He seems to cry only when he’s hungry and has never failed to smile when he hears my voice.   I can’t imagine not being able to see him every day and watch him grow up.  He’s five months old.

I also love my young stalker at school.  I wrote recently about the Year 1 girl with the nerve to come to the office and ask me to turn on her favorite video song by the 3 Stooges.  For the last few weeks she’s become a stalker.  From the time I arrive at school until the time I leave, she’s there.  Watching everything I do, with love in her eyes.   I will so miss being a hero to these kids.  

Yesterday, because it is the last week of the term, the teachers had tea together during an extended interval.  My “stalker” stood outside.  She is tiny, so just peeked over the window ledge.  She watched me.    She’d say “Hello, Nancy!” and I’d smile and say hello back.  Then she’d wait.  After a minute, she’d say it again.  I’d smile and respond again.  After about 50 times, the other teachers grew annoyed and sent her out to play.  When interval was over she was supposed to be in her classroom but she wasn’t.  She was waiting for me to walk upstairs so she could shyly touch my hand. 

I love all the kids in different ways.  I wish you could visit the school to meet these amazing children.  Cheeky, shy, friendly, quiet.  They each are charming in their own way.  Isaac, for instance.  He’s  15 and in Year 8.  He’s as tall as I am and I have no doubt that he is stronger than I am.  But he has the heart of a child.  This morning as he walked toward me he started waving with both hands and saying hello in English.  He’s one of the kids who has been left behind.  He’s missed several years of school and been ignored in classes because he is slow.  But he loves to learn and I love to see the look in his eyes when we work together and he gets it.  There is nothing more gratifying than seeing someone grasp an idea and realize they’ve learned something new. 

My friend Meripa is a teacher.  She is a tevolo (devil).  She insists she’s an angel and she is, deep down inside, but her sense of humor causes the devil to come out.  No matter what the event, I can always count on Meripa to lighten the moment by playing the fool just to make people laugh.  She’s also very patient about explaining things to me when the Samoan is flying, fast and furious. 

I’m a big fan of most of the bus drivers and their helpers, who are called “supakoko”, which sounds a lot like “supercocko”.  That would be a hard title to live up to.  I depend on the buses to get me anywhere I need to go.  The drivers now stop if they see me walking, even if I haven’t flagged them down.  The supakokos carry my bags and make sure I get a good seat, relatively speaking.  Sometimes having any seat, and having someone sit on my lap is as good as it gets.

This is just a very short list of people I see every day who make me happy.

Interview

Just for fun (still bored) I decided to do this entry as an interview.  I’m pretending to be on a talk show.  I spent some relaxing time in the green room and now the cameras are rolling….

How was your day?  Anything out of the ordinary happen?

It was just a typical day during the final week of the term.  At 8:00 a.m., when school is scheduled to start there were just three of us teachers in attendance.  Although, as the kids pointed out, there were only two teachers.  “What about me?” I asked?  “You’re not a teacher.  You’re a Peace Corps!”  Wish I had my B.S. in Elem. Ed diploma to show them.

We had assembly, which we never do on Wednesdays, usually.  During assembly the principal talked about dividing the school into houses.  I know that means dividing the kids into teams for sports day.  Presumably, tomorrow.

After assembly my boss pointed out that the Year 7 teacher wasn’t coming to school so I should take his class.  I had one hour to teach them a poem or song about mothers to perform on Friday.  He said it would be good if I also gave songs and poems about Mother’s Day to all the other teachers. My inability to come up with 8 songs/poems on the spot is another indication of my deficiencies as a teacher.

I quickly wrote a poem and taught it to Year 7 then we broke for another assembly to discuss Sports Day.  I was assigned to coach one of the teams.  My co-coach is due to have a baby today.  I told her she wasn’t allowed to have it until Sports Day was over.

At 11:00 a.m. all the teachers from the district were supposed to come to practice for the Independence Day march.  The kids had brought 66 niu as refreshments.  But only about 15 teachers showed up so the practice was cancelled.

All in all, just a typical day at school.

Why were your neighbors laughing this afternoon when you went to buy a soda at their store?

They weren’t laughing at me, really.   They were laughing because the 1 year old screams in terror every time she sees me.  She’s seen me every day since she was born.  I’ve never hurt her.  I always smile and speak quietly to her.  But she’s still scared to death of me.  Everyone thinks it’s funny.  She started screaming and crying when she saw me coming so an older child took her away.   They brought her back a few minutes later and repeated the scene.  Funny stuff.

Why are there children running full speed back and forth in front of your fale?

I’m not sure, but I think they’re practicing for sports day tomorrow.  They’ll be representing their teams in the 100 meter race.   Same thing with the kids leaping around the yard in 50 kg rice bags from Vietnam.  They’re practicing for the sack race.

We heard you typed the 2011 school report yesterday.

Yes, I did.  I also helped write it, since it was in English.  The beginning of the report thanked different people and organizations for things they’d given the school.  At my suggestion, they agreed to put something in to thank the United States Peace Corps for sending a volunteer.  Having a full-time volunteer teacher ranked third, after desks from the Mormons and books from Australia, New Zealand and the United States.  I had to remind them that the U.S. sent books.  I was described (I did not write this part) as pretty and intelligent.   I suggested we add “sexy” but that was turned down.   My skills with typing and the copy machine were highly praised.

Frankly, you sound a bit cranky.  Are you enjoying the PC experience?

Actually, I am a bit cranky.  Mostly because I’m bored.  When I get to teach every day, I enjoy it.  The time passes quickly and I feel like I’m making a difference.  Days like today, though, drag.  I’m glad I joined the Peace Corps.  I’m glad I came to Samoa.  Do I get frustrated, cranky and bored sometimes?  You bet, but isn’t that true of every job?  Plus, it’s only a few days before vacation and I’m just ready to be out of here for awhile. 

Photos?

I just spent another 3+ hours trying to upload photos.  Screw that.  When I'm in New Zealand I'll give it a shot when I have access to high speed internet.  Unless, of course, I'm too busy having fun.  No guarantees.

In the meantime, I can tell you about the last day or so.  Let's see.  Thundering herds.  That's what I heard (have I mentioned bad puns make me laugh?)   The other evening, several pigs had taken up residence in front of my house, making the piggy noises they make when they're hungry. 

Here's the only way I can describe it to you.  You know when you are a woman of a certain age?  And you slip past the "Gee, I'm a little hungry." stage to the "Give me the fucking food or I'll kill you!" stage?  The way we're feeling is exactly how the pigs sound.  Very loud and very ornery. 

The pigs were at the latter stage in front of my house as I cooked dinner.  I was making faux nachos so I didn't care if there was a nuclear bomb attack happening.  I was focused on Doritos, cheese and hamburger with taco seasonings.  I told you it was faux.  But those are prized ingredients in Samoa and very expensive.  Don't criticize.

The next thing I knew I heard a thundering herd.  With growls and squeals.  It was my three dogs chasing 9 pigs.  It was loud.  It was powerful.  It was hysterical.  Really, when will I ever have dogs chasing pigs off my front porch again?

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

P.S.  I tried to explain why a Mexican Independence Day was celebrated in the United States.  Because we like any excuse for a party?  Because we love nachos and Mexican beer?  Sole, le iloa (Dude, I don't know.)