Photos

Let's be honest, you only come back hoping I'll shut up and post some photos.  Don't blame you.  Before I get to the photos, though, another real time update.  It's Friday, January 28 and I'm town for the Peace Corps All Vol meeting tomorrow.  Should be a fun day of team building.

Met with PC staff today and someone will be coming to my village next week to let them know they need to find a place for me to live, that meets PC standards, sooner rather than later.  They were just put on notice that they have to live up to their responsibilities or I'll be moved to another village.  So, fingers crossed that the school committee finds something or builds something and I don't have to start over in a new village. 

Now, onto the good stuff - photos!

You have to step up, then down, before entering one of the main stores on the island.  Unique, don't you think?

 This dad was playing in the water with his kids.  Wearing a green hard hat.

Later, a young boy from a different family was wearing the same green hard hat.  When is my turn??

Now them's some banker's hours.  Only branch on the island and the ATM is down about 50% of the time.  

Results of a shopping trip to 2 different stores and 3 different vendors on the street.  I described the shopping in an earlier entry.  The breadfruit leaves are wrapped around limu.  Notice how big that cucumber and those avocadoes are!

Limu, which is a kind of seaweed and delicious.  Tastes like the ocean smells.

Largest "mall" on the island.  Closed on Saturday afternoons and Sundays.  Oh, and closes at 4:00 p.m. on weekdays.  Makes shopping tough for us working stiffs.  Plus, the post office is in there.  I bet I have packages languishing behind those gated doors.

Think someone was stockpiling sand?  Nope, came from the sea after the waves went across the road.  Left large, perfectly shaped piles of sand in front of the beach fales, instead of on the beach behind the fales.

 

A couple of the guys I sleep with.  The photos belong to the family I live with.  Yes, that's a bed.  It's used for storage.  I'm still sleeping on the floor.  No, I don't understand the logic.

They used big equipment to clean up after the storm.  He's filling in a large puddle that forms in our driveway every time it rains.

 

Lady Samoa I.  The old, small ferry with no indoor seating.  It was coming in to dock, then take me to Upolu (the other island) on Thursday.  That's Apolima island in the background.  

 

I guess when you can see the ocean through the hole in the shoes I paid a quarter for 7 years ago, it's time to retire them.  I'll miss them. Have I mentioned I've been doing a lot of walking?

Biggest pineapple I've ever seen.  She was charging $20 tala for it at the market in Salelologa.  The other night for dinner I ate an avocado.  And a pineapple.  A much, much smaller pineapple.  No cooking required.

Questions and Answers

Dear Anonymous:

You left a comment on a recent entry, asking some questions.  While you didn’t seem to expect a response and I’m not ordinarily big on having a conversation with “anonymous”, I gave them some thought and here they are.  Please note, as with everything in this blog, this is purely my perspective.  Right or wrong, it’s how I see things, as filtered through my life experiences.

Has your experience thus far with Peace Corp Samoa been what you expected before you left the States?

Pretty much.  There are more amenities than I expected.  Cell phones are everywhere.  I haven’t seen a house yet that doesn’t have electricity and all I’ve seen have running water, although it may not be in the house.  Many families have cars. Most homes I’ve seen don’t have any indoor cooking facilities, which is more in line with what I expected.

The reception in my village is not what I expected.  I’m not sure if it’s the size of the village (much larger than average), the presence of a resort, which means locals are used to seeing foreigners, or what, but people have not been overly friendly.  I talked recently to a Samoan, born and raised overseas.  Her perspective is that adults want to talk to me but are reluctant because they’re embarrassed by their English.  The fact that I’m older, makes it even harder for them to approach me.  I’m hoping as I begin teaching and work on my language skills continue, folks will realize I’m living here and want to get to know people.

Also, it’s sinking in that this is two years.  You could give birth to two babies in the time I’ll be gone.  Friends will die.  Annoyances that I could ignore for a few weeks are things I need to get used to for two years, or drive myself crazy.  Yeah, hard to really anticipate two years.

What is the attraction of serving with Peace Corp Samoa or why do volunteers give up the comforts of America to serve with Peace Corp Samoa?

Like other applicants, I was attracted to serve in the Peace Corps, not Peace Corps Samoa.  Applicants to PC are given an opportunity to express preferences for specific regions or countries but are discouraged from doing so.  By being willing to serve anywhere, PC has more flexibility in assigning volunteers.  I applied to serve in any country served by Peace Corps. 

There are a lot of reasons I volunteered.  One is that I’ve been blessed in my life.  I’ve had family, education and opportunities.  I want to pay it forward.   Because I’ve always been passionate about travel and learning about other cultures, Peace Corps provides me an opportunity to share with others while learning a new culture.

I was also willing to give up the considerable creature comforts I had at home to learn more about myself and learn more about how others live.  Bottom line, at sixty I was not ready to stay in a comfortable rut.  I wanted to stretch myself and hopefully, help someone else at the same time.

Peace Corp Samoa is a tough gig; the diet, climate, language, lifestyle, and lack of amenities. Should Peace Corp train and send nationals living in America to serve in the countries (of their or their parents' birth) rather than sending true blue Americans who have to go through the senses jarring process of adjusting to the local cultures?

First, the Peace Corps is a program of the U.S. government.  You must be a U. S. citizen to join. 

That aside, the easy answer is in the numbers.  Imagine trying to find 20 Americans of Samoan descent, familiar with the diet, language and lifestyle of Samoa.  Who also have all the requirements (physical, mental, education, etc.) to meet the Peace Corps criteria.  Who wish to serve, without pay, for two years in Samoa.  Now, amplify that – we’re the smallest post in Peace Corps.  Imagine finding 450 Americans of Ukrainian descent who meet all the criteria and for whom living in the Ukraine would not be jarring. 

There are three basic goals of Peace Corps.  One is to share knowledge/experience of the volunteers with a country with needs.  Another is to help people in another country have a better understanding of America by getting to know an American first hand.  Third is for Americans to gain a better understanding of another country by having an American who’s lived there share their experiences back home in America.

A basic premise of Peace Corps, and one I wholeheartedly share, is that peace comes from knowledge.  Knowledge gained from knowing and understanding other cultures and people.  I believe there’s a value to be gained in having people unfamiliar with a culture living there.  Yes, it can be jarring.  No, not every aspect of a new culture will be well received or appreciated.  But even as a “true blue American”  with not a drop of Samoan blood, after two years, I think I’ll be able to tell folks back home what it’s like in Samoa.

Is Peace Corp Samoa still relevant; are there better avenues for the American government to assist developing countries like Samoa?

A question being asked by a lot of people, especially Republicans in Congress.   First, PC has a very small budget, as government agencies go.  Let’s start with ”is it still relevant.”  No, not nearly as relevant as it was years ago. 

When PC started fifty years ago, there wasn’t internet, cell phones and other technology that has turned our world into a global village.  Talking to someone who’d served two years in a foreign country most Americans had never heard of was pretty much the only way to find out what it was really like in another country.  Those volunteers could come back and fight stereotypes and give honest, accurate information about life in a different country.  They could also let others find out that Americans are caring, smart, funny and individuals with strengths and limitations, just like people everywhere.

Even though we now have the ability to know more about other places and people, most Americans don’t.  I was first saddened, then horrified, when telling people I was going to be a PCV in Samoa.  One woman didn’t know where the Pacific Ocean was.  You know, like the ocean that touches California??  Many didn’t know there was a difference between Samoa and Somalia.  Even after explaining the difference, people asked if there were elephants on the island.  And, no, Samoa is not a small country in Central America, so I won’t be coming home once a month.  That was another common misconception.

So returning volunteers now have an opportunity to be proactive about spreading the word about the countries where we serve.  For example, I’m part of a program that links serving volunteers with schools in the U. S.  I’m going to be a pen pal with a 7^th grade class in a school near Atlanta.  Hopefully, that experience will spark some curiosity in at least one of those kids – who will then go on to learn more about the world.

Are there more effective ways to provide aid to foreign countries?  Probably.   I just wrote and erased a long answer to this.  I realized I don’t have the answer.  It’s a complex question about economics, anthropology, politics and more.  So my answer is just that:  probably. 

One question you didn’t ask directly, but seems to be implied is “Should I be here?”  I’ve been asked why I didn’t stay in the United States since there are huge needs there.  I’ve been asked if I think I can make any real difference.  I’ve been asked if I’m wasting my time, when I should be continuing work as a management consultant to build up my retirement fund.

I don’t know the answers to all those questions, either.  I can’t speak for anyone else.  I just know that when I applied to Peace Corps, it felt like the right thing, at the right time.  It still feels that way and I plan to be here until I feel otherwise.  I’m planning on that being at least two years out.  While I’m here, I hope I take advantage of the time, to learn, grow, have some fun and maybe change one person’s views.

Have you tried the breadfruit pulu?

Leai. But, I’m looking forward to trying it soon.  My brother and I used to chew on pieces of freshly poured road tar when we were kids so ulu pulu should be better.  Much better name, for sure.

It’s the Little Things, Part II

I knew I liked pork but had to come to Samoa to find out I love pigs, too.  A wee conflict. 

I figured sequels worked out well for Rocky and Bruce Willis, so thought I’d do a sequel to the whiny entry I did about the little things that make me nuts. Actually, I could run that list out until we’re all old and grey, since I’m a tad irritable.

Part II, though, is a bit different. Instead of continuing the whining, I thought I’d share some of the little things that make me smile.

The puppy

I could easily add the puppy to the whiny list, since he still leaves puddles, likes to chew on my long skirts and will likely be the cause of my next broken bone, since he believes that wherever my feet are is where he should be.

All that aside, I can’t resist laughing every morning when I open my door and there he is, acting like I’m a better treat than a Milk Bone. Even when I just come back from a walk, he acts like his best friend has just returned. Nice to have all that pure love and energy be part of how I start my day.

The baby

My family has a granddaughter, who’s four months old. Her name is Eden and she doesn’t live here, but visits frequently. She has huge brown eyes, a monk’s fringe hairdo and is one of the best babies I’ve ever met. Initially, she wasn’t fond of me or my glasses, I’m not sure which. She seems to have adjusted though and is very patient with letting me hold and love on her. When we returned from the aborted teacher’s meeting, she was waiting. How could I be cranky when she laughed out loud to the sound of me reciting the Samoan alphabet? There are few things that are more soul-deep satisfying than giving a chubby baby a raspberry and hearing her laugh.

For Whom The Horn Honks

Samoans like to honk. Many have installed special horns to make unique sounds. It’s not about the rims here, it’s about the horn. They honk to get you to move. They honk to let you know they’ve arrived. They honk to let you know they’re leaving. Mostly, they honk because they see someone they know.

It is gratifying to hear a honk and realize that it’s me they’re honking at. One of the neighbors passed me yesterday when I was out for my daily stroll. I’ve never spoken to him, more than a talofa, but he honked and the entire family was smiling and waving energetically. I gave them my best wave back. They passed going the other way a couple of minutes later. We repeated the honking/waving. Felt just as good the second time.

I may have written about a negative experience I had recently when a bus didn’t stop for me, even though I was signaling and the driver clearly saw me. I talked to someone who knows several of the bus drivers. I don’t know what he told them but I haven’t had that problem again. And now, the buses honk when they see me. All of them. Plus, I get the special wave that cool guys do here. I give ‘em my own cool wave back, along with a big smile.

The kids

I like kids. I like that they are eager to try new things. They want to learn. They don’t care if doing something makes them look silly. If it’s fun, do it. There are a lot of kids in Samoa and unlike the States where we have to be so cautious when near a child, there’s always a kid to play with here.

Like the six year old who comes to watch me read at the beach fale. How bored would you have to be to sit and watch some lady reading? He relieves his boredom by singing. So then I sing something. Then we work on a tune together. Ends with smiles, every time.

Yesterday as I headed out on my walk, a girl of about 13 was trying to ride a bike. It wasn’t going well. She’d pedal once, get her other foot on the pedal and then lose her balance. I asked if she knew how to ride. No, and clearly a bit embarrassed about not being able to ride. I told her where to put her feet to get started and said “Just pedal. I’ve got you. Just steer straight and pedal.” We only made it about ten feet before she ran off the road into the bushes, with me holding her up, but it was 9 feet farther than she’d gotten before. More smiles.

Pe’e pe’e

No, that’s not peepee, it’s coconut cream, pronounced peh-ay, peh-ay. It’s labor intensive to make, but Samoans put in the effort and use it on everything. The other day the family asked me to join them for to’ona’i (big Sunday lunch). The first thing they put in front of me was a soup bowl full of something that looked like oatmeal. Nope, it was hot, mashed ripe bananas, cooked with fresh coconut cream. It took everything I had in me to not lick the bowl.

Soup made from fresh papaya and coconut cream? Lovely. Fish cooked in coconut cream and onions? Delicious. I haven’t found anything with coconut cream that I haven’t liked and I’m looking forward to the next thing.

Reactions to my eating

A couple of things. First, palagis, especially American palagis, are known as picky eaters. Second, Samoans eat with their hands. So, people tend to be a bit surprised and pleased that I will eat pretty much anything they put in front of me, with my hands. People seem surprised and happy that I actually seem to like the food they give me. I’ve heard my host sister proudly brag that “She eats limu and kui kui and oka. She eats like a Samoan. Except that she doesn’t like too much talo, kalofai.”

Luckily for me, I’m not a picky eater. I was as a kid, but my parents broke me of that habit. They believed that people’s tastes change as they get older, so I had to try everything new, even if just one bite. And, even if I didn’t like it, I had to try it again the next time it was served. They were right. I hated cheese as a kid. Too strong, even the American slices that come wrapped in plastic. Now, there’s not a cheese made I don’t relish and the stinkier, the better.

So when someone here puts food in front of me that I don’t recognize, I don’t ask questions, I just dig in. Sunday it was what I’m assuming was chitins’, based on the word “pig” and where the person pointed on her body. They were delicious. The best part, though, was after lunch. I excused myself and was walking back toward my fale, when I heard them discussing with what seemed like great delight how much I like “their” food.

Natural beauty

It’s really hard to stay in a pissy mood when such raw, natural beauty smacks you in the face every way you turn. The constantly changing moods and look of the ocean, the clouds that seem to be lit from within in shades of red and blue at sunset and sunrise, the sound of the wind through the leaves of the breadfruit and banana trees. I can’t describe the physical beauty of Samoa. I might have trouble walking out of the cold shower I just shared with a couple of cockroaches if I wasn’t stepping out into paradise.

And, have I mentioned the beautiful people? Samoans are some good looking people, from babies to old folks. Not all are beautiful, of course, but there are a lot that are. And if you’re into the not-an-ounce-of-fat, tan six-pack kind of guy, come to Samoa. Working in the plantations as most of the young men here do is hard physical work. On numerous occasions I’ve glanced over at a group of men working, wearing nothing but lava lavas wrapped around their waists, sweaty muscles gleaming in the sun, with abs you could crack walnuts on. Don’t judge me – bet you’d smile too.

Running pigs

I know it’s not just me, or the pig races at state fairs wouldn’t be so popular. I’m not sure what it is about running pigs, but they crack me up, every time. Pigs running in the rain? They send me into giggling fits. I try to tone it down, because the Samoans don’t seem to share my amusement. But it doesn’t matter what I’m doing, if I see the dog sneaking up behind a group of pigs, I get up to get a better view. I know that Blackie will get right behind the biggest pig, let out a bark and the chase is on. Pigs squealing and running surprisingly fast, with Blackie and the puppy in hot pursuit.

I tend to write about the negative stuff. As you read it, I hope you’ll take it with a grain of salt. There’s also a lot here that I smile about every day. Way more than I’ve written in these paragraphs.

I didn't write about how much I love getting packages, because they're not a little thing.  The love sent in those beautiful boxes (shown here in the bus on my way home from the Post Office) is HUGE and I can never thank you enough.

Some flowers next to the beach.  Beautiful, isn't it? 

First Day of School!

The only other person who showed up for the teacher's meeting. 

Written Wednesday, January 26, 2011

School officially begins on January 31, 2011. I heard earlier this week that we’d be having a teacher’s meeting on today, Wednesday, January 26, 2011. I was told to be ready to go at 8:05 a.m.

I was excited. I’m more than ready to get this show on the road. I did my nails, laid out a puletasi and packed everything I thought I’d need in my briefcase and went to bed early. I woke up early and was disappointed when I went to take a shower. Instead of regular water flow, there was very little water pressure. It happens fairly regularly, which is annoying because one thing worse than a cold shower is a cold shower with only a trickle of water.

I finished my abbreviated shower and put on my puletasi and even put on some make up. The nails and make-up, by the way, weren’t to impress my new boss and co-workers. They were just to make me feel more like my old professional me and give me a boost of confidence.

I was ready at 7:30 a.m., so had some crackers and peanut butter and a cup of American Cocoa. (Thanks, Donna!) At 7:55 a.m., I saw K come out of her fale, heading to the bathroom. At 8:02 a.m., I saw K start her laundry. Hmmm. Since she’s not dressed and told me we’d be leaving at 8:05 something seems to be amiss. Also was confusing was that the resident driver had driven off at 7:45 and hadn’t returned.

At 8:15 I asked K what was up. She seemed confused. Why was I asking when we were going? “Not so early. No one will be there this early.”

She said we’d go after she took her shower and got ready. And, after our driver, who was at the plantation feeding the chickens, returned. We headed out about 9 a.m.

She was 100% correct. We were too early. When we arrived at 9:15 for a meeting scheduled to start at 8 a.m., the only one there was the guy using a weed whacker to cut the lawn.

We waited for 15 minutes or so, chatting and swatting flies. Then she made a couple of calls. The first apparently was to the former principal, who was working in Apia. The second call was to have someone come back to take us home. Seems that the meeting had been cancelled due to weather (it was cloudy) and the new principal was supposed to have told us the night before.

While we were waiting for our ride, about 9:45, another teacher arrived for the 8 a.m. meeting. K told her the meeting had been cancelled.

I came home, changed into my everyday clothes and am typing this. The sun is shining, although there are clouds on the horizon.

I’ve heard that if the dress rehearsal for a play is a disaster that means that opening night will be stellar. I’m hoping the concept translates to school in Samoa. Since I’m scheduled to leave for Apia to attend a PC meeting on the early ferry tomorrow morning, not returning until Sunday afternoon, it looks like I’ll first meet my new principal the first day of school.

Based on what I’ve experienced so far, along with what I’ve heard from previous volunteers, this will not be an isolated incident. Things starting much later than scheduled or not happening at all is very common. Locals laugh as they call it “island time”.

I’m a nut about punctuality. My weather-watching father was also a clock watcher and I learned young that being punctual was important. I was in firm agreement with the facilitator of a time management course I took years ago when he said “People who are chronically late are simply rude and showing their disrespect for others by wasting their time.” So I tend to be just a wee bit obsessed with punctuality.

I figure two years of “island time” will have one or maybe more of these results:

• I wait one-too-many times for something to start and just jump in the ocean and start swimming for home;
• I learn patience and get a lot of reading done while I wait for events to start;
• In two years, after returning to the U.S. I am at least an hour late to everything.
P.S. In case you were wondering what a well-prepared PCV teacher carries in her briefcase for her first teacher’s meeting:
• 1.5 liter of bottled water
• Blank pad of paper
• 2 pens
• Toilet paper
• English/Samoan Dictionary
• List of common Samoan slang terms
• Mr. Kindle, who prefers to always be by my side

Cyclone and Other Updates

 Waves crashing over the sea wall near the beach fale where I hang out.  They got much worse.

 Written Tuesday, January 25, 2011

The Weather

I swore I would never turn into my dad, who was obsessed with weather. He would sit and watch the weather channel for hours.  Here, I’m at the opposite end of the spectrum, since I don’t have television or radio.  I heard from the PC that a cyclone was coming, although predicted to be small and miss a direct hit on Samoa. 

A cyclone, by the way, is the same as a hurricane.  If you’re in the northern hemisphere it’s a hurricane, if you’re below the equator, it’s a cyclone. 

We’ve had steady, heavy rain, with some wind for about a week.  On Sunday morning as we drove to church we saw that waves had come over the seawall, past the beach fales and across the road.  The waves left huge piles of sand, debris and in one stretch, boulders that were washed from the seawall into the road.  It was a mess but cars could still get by.

We received periodic texts Saturday and Sunday from PC, updating us on the weather predictions and putting us on alert for possible (although unlikely) regional consolidation.   Mostly we were told to just watch the weather and use our noodles, as Granny T. would say. 

According to the PC, who uses the most reliable weather sources possible, the threat of the cyclone was over on Sunday night.  Monday, I woke up to more rainy, stormy weather. I was a bit stir crazy so used a break in the rain in the morning to walk the mile or so to the store.  I’m glad I did, since I got to see the biggest waves I’ve ever seen in my life.  I’m guessing the winds at 30 MPH with stronger gusts.  Rain was spitting and I made it home just in time for the worst weather I’ve seen since coming to Samoa. Heavy winds and torrential rain that didn’t stop for over 20 hours.

The wind blew rain across the open fale, so Mr. Kindle and I stayed in our room, trying to stay dry, since the windows don’t close completely.  Thanks to the generosity of my friend Kay, I’d downloaded the “Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” before heading here, so I enjoyed a great book during the stormy day.  And, thanks to Kia and family, I was sipping Crystal Lite while I read.  Very cozy.

Work and Housing

Last week there was a meeting for all school principals and lead teachers.  That included the woman I live with, since she’s the lead teacher at my school. When she returned she told me, over the course of two days, that: I had a new principal; I started work on January 26 instead of January 31; and the school committee has to find another place for me to live, since I would not be moving to the house I’d cleaned in preparation for moving.

So, for now, I’m staying where I am. It will mean taking the bus to and from school, or walking six miles or so a day.  Not having a place to unpack and settle in is frustrating and having absolutely no control over the situation makes it harder.  I’m trying to make the best of the situation and go with the flow.  The next few months as I start teaching and find out where I’ll live should be interesting.  I hope that’s not the same as the Chinese curse “May you live in interesting times.”

Host Sister from the Training Village

I’ve stayed in touch with Fa since moving to Savaii.  I miss her and think the feeling is mutual.  When I told her about my housing conundrum, she suggested I just move back in with her.   Unfortunately, that would mean leaving the PC, which would mean having to leave the country since my visa would no longer be valid. 

When I lived with Fa, she had some health issues, primarily with aching joints.  It seems that after I left it got worse, to the point that she’s no longer able to walk.  She’s now staying with family and had to leave her beloved home and animals.  She went back to check on things last week and one of the pigs, Snow, is missing, along with four of her piglets.  It’s not just the loss of a valuable commodity that hurts.  Snow was like a pet to Fa.  Hard to think of her as Sunday dinner, but that was likely her fate.

Please say a prayer that Fa’s health improves quickly and that she’s able to go back to the home, church and life that she loves.  I really empathize because Fa is one of the few middle-aged women I’ve met here who live alone.  It’s not easy to do here for a variety of reasons.  She values her privacy and independence.  I hope she gets it back soon.

  Waves made a mess in the road but crews had it cleaned up the next morning.

This may look like debris, but it's actually the materials they use to make fine mats.  They put it out to dry in the sun.  Not very effective during a cyclone.  Amazing that it didn't blow away.

It's a Sign of the Times

I've always enjoyed signs. I annoy people in the car with me because I read them while cruising down the road.

I thought you might enjoy a few signs I've seen in Samoa:

In English, this means "Good Taro - $15.00"  Apparently, that's different than Talo Leanga - Bad Taro

Reminds me of Thailand where you could book a tour, buy a hammer or a wedding dress.  I was surprised to see a liquor department in an appliance store.  And karaoke??

The only kind of snow you'll see in Samoa.  This is in Apia.  I have the luxury of drinking something cold about once a week when I go to town and splurge.  Ice?  Haven't seen it in a month.

We love our volleyball in Samoa!

Heaven help me, I may resort to this when I return to Apia.  

The green "Reload Here" sign let's me know they can "top up" my cell phone.  Seki a Digicell!

These were over the driver on the bus I took last week.  Hard to argue.

Hair!

No, I’m not talking about the 60’s musical, although I’m humming that to myself.  I’m talking about the amazing hair in Samoa.  I was born with a head of white blonde, baby fine, curly hair.  Over the years it darkened to dishwater blonde and became a bit wavy rather than curly.  It’s still baby fine.   Growing up in southern Arizona, I was always incredibly jealous of Latina women’s hair – thick, dark and luxurious.  I’m equally jealous here in Samoa.

It is customary in Samoa for women to wear their hair up.  Most pull it back in a pony tail, and then wrap it around to form a bun.  Some of the buns are huge.  When I pull my hair back and wrap it around it doesn’t form a bun.  It forms a ridiculous tiny lump.

I sat behind a young woman on the bus the other day.  She was wearing her hair in a single French braid down her back.  It was so thick, that I couldn’t have gotten my hand around it.  We both sat with the wind blowing through the bus windows.  I got off looking a hot mess, like I’d just been on a bus with the windows open.  She got off without a single hair out of place.

A lot of Samoans have curly hair.   I saw a woman the other day who, for some reason, had let her hair go “natural”.  It came down to the middle of her back and was a HUGE Afro. 

Hair products are big in Samoa.  One of the smells I will forever associate with Samoa is hair gel.  You can’t miss it on the bus on a hot day.  Stores sell a wide variety of hair gels in sizes ranging from small to “are you kidding, who could ever use that much gel in a lifetime” large. 

Instead of gel, a lot of women use baby oil to tame flyaway strands.  I’ve watched women come out of the shower with freshly shampooed hair, pull it up into a bun, then smooth a handful of baby oil over it. They look great and are ready to roll in 2 seconds.  I, on the other hand, have to dry my pathetically thin locks with my fan.  It takes at least half an hour, with me fanning frantically while getting dressed. 

I’ve also noticed that most men here don’t lose their hair.  I grew up with a dad who’d gone bald before I was ever born.  Thick head of hair or bald as a cue ball, doesn’t matter to me.  I’ve met a few men with shaved heads here, who appear to be balding, but I’m guessing the bald gene is recessive.

I thought that I was the only one obsessed with hair here, but it seems that Samoan women are also checking out each other’s hair.  How long it is, how thick it is, how straight or curly are all topics for conversation.  I’ve never heard it in a disparaging way but always a “Oooh, look at her hair, how thick it is” with just a touch of envy in the voice.

My hair’s getting longer, to the length that I really should start wearing it up rather than hanging in a “flashy” way.  Rather than exposing my pitiful bun, though, I’m just going to get it cut.  My hair does attract notice, mostly because of its color.  The sun has lightened it even more than usual, so with the silver that age has given me, it’s very light.  It’s not unusual to be on the bus and feel a small child stroking my hair.  No doubt they’re thinking, “Poor palagi, she has hardly any hair.”