Teeth
Last night we had a discussion about teeth. Since we are at the one year mark, we are able to go on our dental check. Some people who have gone on their dental check ups have always had perfect teeth, however now the Samoa factor comes into play.
Things about us keep changing since we have entered Samoa. Things that have always been, always turn around, and it goes the opposite way. It is just the way of Samoa.
One of the girls in my group had the Samoan factor happen to her mouth. All of a sudden she went from a cavity-less mouth to having 8 cavities. This is a girl that not only attends the flossing parties that I have been at, but also flosses regularly.
We were trying to figure out the cause of this, and came up to one solution. Our mouth had become used to all of the chemicals that the US puts in their water, especially the fluoride.
Here we drink boiled water, filtered water, or tank water, which is rain water. There are no real chemicals, besides the bleach we put in our water filters. Our mouth hasn’t found a way to be used to this factor, so many of us end up with cavities. A scary thought.
It still is better than the Samoan mouth. Samoans rarely see dentists, and if they do it is only to have teeth pulled. So instead of fixing the tooth, the often will just take the tooth out of their mouths. There are many teenagers missing their molars because of this.
The Samoans that I have talked with think the only time to go to a dentist is when your mouth is in pain, which means a tooth needs to be pulled.
I really wish there was access to better dental care as well as education on teeth here in Samoa for Samoans.
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Monday, November 29, 2010
Apia makes me homesick....for Savai'i
Stuck in Apia
Oh, Apia. Some days you are a great place to eva (hang out) in, and many times you get to be too much, and I just get homesick for Savai’i. If it were not for Thanksgiving I would be enjoying a great weekend in my village. I would be eating a lot, relaxing and enjoying myself. But I was planning on going to Apia for Thanksgiving.
I ended up arriving in Apia earlier than expected, since I needed to see our medical officer on her day off (I felt horrible for doing that to her!). On Friday morning I found myself having a staring contest with a horse to pass the time before the bus arrived. I finally arrived “downtown” at about 8.
Apia is great in many ways because I get to see my friends. I don’t realize how much I miss them, until I get to see them. I love the people that I have met here, Peace Corps, Australian volunteers, Japanese volunteers, and my other local friends. Samoa has such a small population that I feel like I know just about everyone. If I don’t know them, they definitely know me. A few times I was stopped this weekend by someone I didn’t know and they told me my name, village, and even which family I live with. It is really strange (and maybe borderline creepy).
I was really looking forward to a quick trip over here. I was looking forward to being back in my village doing the plans I already had in place. Instead on Friday, after a quick trip to see my medical officer, I was taken to the hospital (I am happy it was a private one) for them to open up my infection and take the disgusting things out of it.
I am a person who does really badly with shots, and blood, one of the things I inherited from my mother, so while this was going on, I was seeing double and in a lot of pain. Thankfully I had a hotel room with air conditioning to go back to. (As well as Rachel who was willing to bring delicious ice cream to much on)
The following day, I went to see my medical officer for her to clean up my infected area, and for the first time saw the gaping hole by my armpit. I was told to stay in town until Monday.
Today is Monday, the hole is getting smaller because of how amazing my medical officer is about coming in on her days off to help me clean it out and re-bandage it. I am really looking forward to the ferry home, since I know it will only be a quick trip to Savai’i.
Oh Apia, I love you, but I’ve had enough. I am ready for home.
Oh, Apia. Some days you are a great place to eva (hang out) in, and many times you get to be too much, and I just get homesick for Savai’i. If it were not for Thanksgiving I would be enjoying a great weekend in my village. I would be eating a lot, relaxing and enjoying myself. But I was planning on going to Apia for Thanksgiving.
I ended up arriving in Apia earlier than expected, since I needed to see our medical officer on her day off (I felt horrible for doing that to her!). On Friday morning I found myself having a staring contest with a horse to pass the time before the bus arrived. I finally arrived “downtown” at about 8.
Apia is great in many ways because I get to see my friends. I don’t realize how much I miss them, until I get to see them. I love the people that I have met here, Peace Corps, Australian volunteers, Japanese volunteers, and my other local friends. Samoa has such a small population that I feel like I know just about everyone. If I don’t know them, they definitely know me. A few times I was stopped this weekend by someone I didn’t know and they told me my name, village, and even which family I live with. It is really strange (and maybe borderline creepy).
I was really looking forward to a quick trip over here. I was looking forward to being back in my village doing the plans I already had in place. Instead on Friday, after a quick trip to see my medical officer, I was taken to the hospital (I am happy it was a private one) for them to open up my infection and take the disgusting things out of it.
I am a person who does really badly with shots, and blood, one of the things I inherited from my mother, so while this was going on, I was seeing double and in a lot of pain. Thankfully I had a hotel room with air conditioning to go back to. (As well as Rachel who was willing to bring delicious ice cream to much on)
The following day, I went to see my medical officer for her to clean up my infected area, and for the first time saw the gaping hole by my armpit. I was told to stay in town until Monday.
Today is Monday, the hole is getting smaller because of how amazing my medical officer is about coming in on her days off to help me clean it out and re-bandage it. I am really looking forward to the ferry home, since I know it will only be a quick trip to Savai’i.
Oh Apia, I love you, but I’ve had enough. I am ready for home.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Blogging
I was smart, I wrote my blogs, and began to post them….But just as I got onto the website, I had a phone call for Thanksgiving. This kept happening all day, until the power went out.So there were many falavelaves yesterday…
It didn’t matter since Apia awaited me today. I was excited, and then I left my flashdrive with those blogs on it at home….This is what happens when you take the 2AM bus, you seem to always forget something!
But notable events from the bus…
The bus showed up about half an hour late, so I had time to bond with a horse. I learned horses don’t always like apples. Also this horse is timid, and scared of getting hit.
Along the bus ride, I sat next to a teacher from my school. If you have never been on the road at night in Samoa, it is an interesting experience, and quite frightful! On the road the driver will encounter many obstacles. First off, the dogs think they own the road at night, so they will be lounged about on it. Also, pigs will be crossing for whatever reason. I learned the little piglets make a pop sound when they are run over. I don’t know what happens to the gigantic ones. Cows and horses get tired of being tied up, and want to hang out. They think their nightclub is the road. So often there will be a group of 7 cows blocking the road, or some horses in the way.
Because of these obstacles, I am thrilled to not be a driver in Samoa, especially early in the morning.
In a few days, I’ll return home and put up the blogs I meant to yeterday. Hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving!
It didn’t matter since Apia awaited me today. I was excited, and then I left my flashdrive with those blogs on it at home….This is what happens when you take the 2AM bus, you seem to always forget something!
But notable events from the bus…
The bus showed up about half an hour late, so I had time to bond with a horse. I learned horses don’t always like apples. Also this horse is timid, and scared of getting hit.
Along the bus ride, I sat next to a teacher from my school. If you have never been on the road at night in Samoa, it is an interesting experience, and quite frightful! On the road the driver will encounter many obstacles. First off, the dogs think they own the road at night, so they will be lounged about on it. Also, pigs will be crossing for whatever reason. I learned the little piglets make a pop sound when they are run over. I don’t know what happens to the gigantic ones. Cows and horses get tired of being tied up, and want to hang out. They think their nightclub is the road. So often there will be a group of 7 cows blocking the road, or some horses in the way.
Because of these obstacles, I am thrilled to not be a driver in Samoa, especially early in the morning.
In a few days, I’ll return home and put up the blogs I meant to yeterday. Hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving!
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Emails
Since it is a rainy Saturday, I decided to spend my money putting up blogs for you to read….besides I really do like the sound of my own voice. (I talk to myself out loud sometimes while I write…)
In America, I would check my email several times a day usually. At work, at restaurants that had wifi, and whenever I was bored. I didn’t have internet at home, but it didn’t matter because it was so accessible. Because I checked it so often, I did not mind the boat loads of junk mail that I was sent, as it was easy to press delete. When I was about to leave the country my family, yes we had a family plan for our telephones, switched to an amazing package where we would get internet, so email as well. I never got to enjoy email on phones, except for when I would borrow my friends’ phones. Now, I know some of my family only reads my blog or emails through their telephone. It is strange to think how much things have changed in one year…
In Samoa, I was having trouble distinguishing what I needed to read and what was pure junk. I wasn’t able to delete my mail daily, which made email checking a horrible chore; so I switched email accounts. This helped quite a bit, and I began to be able to distinguish what was important. It also made sure I didn’t “accidently” delete an important email when deleting a page worth of junk mail.
When I went online today, I was amazed at how full my inbox was for one week. I had over ten emails. I quickly got to work with opening a letter, signing offline, to not waste mb, reading the letter and typing a response, and then going online quickly to press send and open up the next letter.
It took me quite some time to go through them all….so much time that I missed the ride to return to church this evening, and did not want to walk up the dirt road hill in the pouring rain. (Don’t worry, I did go this morning to earn my delicious to’ogani and will go again tomorrow, in hopes of more delicious food!)
It is funny how I used to think ten emails would be nothing for a day, and now I am flabbergasted at the site of my inbox with that many inside.
I am not saying to stop writing, I love when people write to me. (I also love real letters…) It is just funny to realize the little ways you have changed in the past year…
Since it is a rainy Saturday, I decided to spend my money putting up blogs for you to read….besides I really do like the sound of my own voice. (I talk to myself out loud sometimes while I write…)
In America, I would check my email several times a day usually. At work, at restaurants that had wifi, and whenever I was bored. I didn’t have internet at home, but it didn’t matter because it was so accessible. Because I checked it so often, I did not mind the boat loads of junk mail that I was sent, as it was easy to press delete. When I was about to leave the country my family, yes we had a family plan for our telephones, switched to an amazing package where we would get internet, so email as well. I never got to enjoy email on phones, except for when I would borrow my friends’ phones. Now, I know some of my family only reads my blog or emails through their telephone. It is strange to think how much things have changed in one year…
In Samoa, I was having trouble distinguishing what I needed to read and what was pure junk. I wasn’t able to delete my mail daily, which made email checking a horrible chore; so I switched email accounts. This helped quite a bit, and I began to be able to distinguish what was important. It also made sure I didn’t “accidently” delete an important email when deleting a page worth of junk mail.
When I went online today, I was amazed at how full my inbox was for one week. I had over ten emails. I quickly got to work with opening a letter, signing offline, to not waste mb, reading the letter and typing a response, and then going online quickly to press send and open up the next letter.
It took me quite some time to go through them all….so much time that I missed the ride to return to church this evening, and did not want to walk up the dirt road hill in the pouring rain. (Don’t worry, I did go this morning to earn my delicious to’ogani and will go again tomorrow, in hopes of more delicious food!)
It is funny how I used to think ten emails would be nothing for a day, and now I am flabbergasted at the site of my inbox with that many inside.
I am not saying to stop writing, I love when people write to me. (I also love real letters…) It is just funny to realize the little ways you have changed in the past year…
Construction
Construction
When I arrived at my village a year ago I was told about one of the churches being banished. I never knew why, but I just accepted it, and enjoyed that they still got together to meet at their pastors house. They met in an open that was decorated beautifully. The ceiling was covered with amazing lavalavas of all different colors, quilted together in beautiful patterns.
Many months ago they began construction on a new church building. It has been an amazing to watch the process of this construction. The people of the church have been doing everything to build it, and are doing an amazing job.
A month ago I stepped inside the new building. People had brought in mats to cover the concrete floor which gave it some of its amazing coloring that I loved about the old “church”. There were giant opening where doors and windows might be one day, but otherwise it was one giant room. The ceiling had its beams and iron roofing.
I went back last week and was amazing with the progress already. There was electricity in the building, and a ceiling was put up, and was even being painted. It looked so great, and you can tell everyone was putting so much pride into their work.
Today, I passed by the church, and there is now stained glass up at the windows, loafer frames on the windows, and doors. It is great to see.
I might be impressed with the church since I know a little bit about construction, even though I only refinished a bare space. When Jen decided to buy a house in Colorado, she decided she needed to buy a place with a basement we could play with. We couldn’t have been luckier with where we ended up with our neighbors, and how amazing our house is. (Well, it really is hers….I just love being her tenant!)
Then, our cousin Tommy came to visit, and we decided we had read enough books about construction, that we could finish the project ourselves. We learned the art of framing, as we learned how much fun power tools really are. Friends came to help with plumbing and electrical, along with the other random spots we were working on. I became an insulation expert, as I did not let the itchiness bother me. (A step that isn’t needed in Samoa.) We then hung dry wall, taped, mudded, and I had to leave for Samoa, without the project completed.
Jen did not give up, and finished the project without me, as ended up with heated floor tiles in the bathroom, and fun flooring in the rest of the basement. We had little cubby holes that each had their own puck lighting. I heard stories about what it looked like for such a long time, that when I finally saw pictures, I was beyond amazed. I helped Jen to create something that looked amazing. She even did a great job with interior design at the end of the project.
Because of Jen’s basement, I know the pride that comes from a finished project like the church. I wasn’t there for the end result, but I know how many manual hours we spent working, and even more hours thinking up ideas on how to use the space to get the most out of it. I feel so good for them when I see all of their improvements each week.
(On a side note if you want to see the amazing basement in Colorado, I think Jen would love to have visitors! Of if you want to see the church being built here, you can come too!)
When I arrived at my village a year ago I was told about one of the churches being banished. I never knew why, but I just accepted it, and enjoyed that they still got together to meet at their pastors house. They met in an open that was decorated beautifully. The ceiling was covered with amazing lavalavas of all different colors, quilted together in beautiful patterns.
Many months ago they began construction on a new church building. It has been an amazing to watch the process of this construction. The people of the church have been doing everything to build it, and are doing an amazing job.
A month ago I stepped inside the new building. People had brought in mats to cover the concrete floor which gave it some of its amazing coloring that I loved about the old “church”. There were giant opening where doors and windows might be one day, but otherwise it was one giant room. The ceiling had its beams and iron roofing.
I went back last week and was amazing with the progress already. There was electricity in the building, and a ceiling was put up, and was even being painted. It looked so great, and you can tell everyone was putting so much pride into their work.
Today, I passed by the church, and there is now stained glass up at the windows, loafer frames on the windows, and doors. It is great to see.
I might be impressed with the church since I know a little bit about construction, even though I only refinished a bare space. When Jen decided to buy a house in Colorado, she decided she needed to buy a place with a basement we could play with. We couldn’t have been luckier with where we ended up with our neighbors, and how amazing our house is. (Well, it really is hers….I just love being her tenant!)
Then, our cousin Tommy came to visit, and we decided we had read enough books about construction, that we could finish the project ourselves. We learned the art of framing, as we learned how much fun power tools really are. Friends came to help with plumbing and electrical, along with the other random spots we were working on. I became an insulation expert, as I did not let the itchiness bother me. (A step that isn’t needed in Samoa.) We then hung dry wall, taped, mudded, and I had to leave for Samoa, without the project completed.
Jen did not give up, and finished the project without me, as ended up with heated floor tiles in the bathroom, and fun flooring in the rest of the basement. We had little cubby holes that each had their own puck lighting. I heard stories about what it looked like for such a long time, that when I finally saw pictures, I was beyond amazed. I helped Jen to create something that looked amazing. She even did a great job with interior design at the end of the project.
Because of Jen’s basement, I know the pride that comes from a finished project like the church. I wasn’t there for the end result, but I know how many manual hours we spent working, and even more hours thinking up ideas on how to use the space to get the most out of it. I feel so good for them when I see all of their improvements each week.
(On a side note if you want to see the amazing basement in Colorado, I think Jen would love to have visitors! Of if you want to see the church being built here, you can come too!)
Rats and Cockroaches
Rats and Cockroaches
I knew I used to hear noises in my bed. I always thought it was rats, but never positive. I found the hole. A rat hole. I haven’t heard any rats in awhile in the box spring, but I still want to try and cover the hole. Would duct tape work?
I’ve seen rats recently sneak into buildings a lot. (I don’t know why I am always looking at the ceiling cracks.) It is so easy for them with how the Samoan houses are built. There are so many cracks in the roofing areas and in the walls. They don’t even usually have to bite through something to get inside.
Cockroaches have been my problem lately. They have been keeping me up at night. They used to not bother me, but lately they have been jumping into bed with me. I swear I saw one fly onto my computer yesterday . I have been keeping a shoe by my bed to try to destroy the ones I see, but they are always too fast for me!
I rearranged my room recently, so maybe this disturbed the cockroaches, and that is why they are on the prowl?
I just wish they would stay away….
I knew I used to hear noises in my bed. I always thought it was rats, but never positive. I found the hole. A rat hole. I haven’t heard any rats in awhile in the box spring, but I still want to try and cover the hole. Would duct tape work?
I’ve seen rats recently sneak into buildings a lot. (I don’t know why I am always looking at the ceiling cracks.) It is so easy for them with how the Samoan houses are built. There are so many cracks in the roofing areas and in the walls. They don’t even usually have to bite through something to get inside.
Cockroaches have been my problem lately. They have been keeping me up at night. They used to not bother me, but lately they have been jumping into bed with me. I swear I saw one fly onto my computer yesterday . I have been keeping a shoe by my bed to try to destroy the ones I see, but they are always too fast for me!
I rearranged my room recently, so maybe this disturbed the cockroaches, and that is why they are on the prowl?
I just wish they would stay away….
Hey Mom, Look what I found!!!
Condoms
I was over at a neighbor’s house and the girls were helping their uncle, who is about my age, pack for church camp. They were ironing his clothes, when the teenage girls (about 16) noticed something in a pocket.
They pulled it out, and gave a shriek. They read the label to make sure it was what they thought it was. She threw the condom down and said, “This is my first time seeing these, especially holding one.”
I then had a talk with the girls about them. They asked me where people get them and had a lot of other questions. I didn’t go too deep into information, but I made sure to answer them all. It was a strange afternoon, but it was a great learning experience for the girls.
The girls wanted to tell their mom about what they found (their family is really involved in the church), and I think they decided not to. Which was probably for the best…
I mean, at least a few people know to be safe….
I was over at a neighbor’s house and the girls were helping their uncle, who is about my age, pack for church camp. They were ironing his clothes, when the teenage girls (about 16) noticed something in a pocket.
They pulled it out, and gave a shriek. They read the label to make sure it was what they thought it was. She threw the condom down and said, “This is my first time seeing these, especially holding one.”
I then had a talk with the girls about them. They asked me where people get them and had a lot of other questions. I didn’t go too deep into information, but I made sure to answer them all. It was a strange afternoon, but it was a great learning experience for the girls.
The girls wanted to tell their mom about what they found (their family is really involved in the church), and I think they decided not to. Which was probably for the best…
I mean, at least a few people know to be safe….
The Bus
Riding the Bus
I love the bus. I love it more and more each time I am on it. The music is amazing, people laugh when I dance and it is always full of people I know (or at least who know me…). I have been here long enough where I can still get a seat for being a palagi, but people will actually sit on my lap when there are no other seats. The people on my bus also respect me when I stand to give up my seat to someone else. (It is always interesting juggling your feet in between baskets of bananas, fish, bread, and whatever else might be on the floor.)
There is only one thing I still don’t like about the bus experience. Smoking. I hate that people are constantly smoking on the busses.
If only that could change, then the bus experience would be perfect. Sitting close to your neighbors, juggling others packages from the market, and enjoying great Samoan holiday music. Is there anything better?
I love the bus. I love it more and more each time I am on it. The music is amazing, people laugh when I dance and it is always full of people I know (or at least who know me…). I have been here long enough where I can still get a seat for being a palagi, but people will actually sit on my lap when there are no other seats. The people on my bus also respect me when I stand to give up my seat to someone else. (It is always interesting juggling your feet in between baskets of bananas, fish, bread, and whatever else might be on the floor.)
There is only one thing I still don’t like about the bus experience. Smoking. I hate that people are constantly smoking on the busses.
If only that could change, then the bus experience would be perfect. Sitting close to your neighbors, juggling others packages from the market, and enjoying great Samoan holiday music. Is there anything better?
Gratitude and School
Gratitude
I have been at my school for almost a complete year. I hear it when I do things wrong, or the possibility that I messed up (especially with electronics), but usually nothing too positive, except from the kids. The children are amazing, and make me feel so loved. This is why I spend so much time with them. I love hanging out at recess with them, walking to and from school with them and talking to them wherever I am.
I do spend time with the teachers, and am impressed with the amount of their conversation I am understanding compared to the previous year. One day I was in the car with another teacher, and he gave me an actual compliment. It made me feel so good inside.
He told me how he enjoys me being at the school because he likes my teaching style, and has learned a lot from watching me. He told me that the children really respond to how I teach.
A few weeks ago, my country director came to visit, and asked me about working with the other teachers, and if they adopted any teaching styles from me, and I told him the truth that I was too busy teaching in other rooms to observe differences in the teachers. I sometimes hear the songs and games being played in other classrooms, but that is only because they sing loud. I only wish I had this conversation first to tell him about.
In other school news…
Final exams are next week, it seems strange to be coming up on summer vacation. But I am excited about it!
I was asked to present the year 4 class at Prize giving in Samoan, since I have primarily been there teacher this term. Wish me luck. (I was warned to practice names because a few month ago a kept saying one person’s name wrong, and ended up calling him a bad word.)
I mentioned to some teachers how I really don’t like seeing the year 8 class be rule enforcers, hitting children if they do anything wrong. The teachers made sure immediately that the year 8 class was without sticks. (A small corporal punishment victory.)
I have been at my school for almost a complete year. I hear it when I do things wrong, or the possibility that I messed up (especially with electronics), but usually nothing too positive, except from the kids. The children are amazing, and make me feel so loved. This is why I spend so much time with them. I love hanging out at recess with them, walking to and from school with them and talking to them wherever I am.
I do spend time with the teachers, and am impressed with the amount of their conversation I am understanding compared to the previous year. One day I was in the car with another teacher, and he gave me an actual compliment. It made me feel so good inside.
He told me how he enjoys me being at the school because he likes my teaching style, and has learned a lot from watching me. He told me that the children really respond to how I teach.
A few weeks ago, my country director came to visit, and asked me about working with the other teachers, and if they adopted any teaching styles from me, and I told him the truth that I was too busy teaching in other rooms to observe differences in the teachers. I sometimes hear the songs and games being played in other classrooms, but that is only because they sing loud. I only wish I had this conversation first to tell him about.
In other school news…
Final exams are next week, it seems strange to be coming up on summer vacation. But I am excited about it!
I was asked to present the year 4 class at Prize giving in Samoan, since I have primarily been there teacher this term. Wish me luck. (I was warned to practice names because a few month ago a kept saying one person’s name wrong, and ended up calling him a bad word.)
I mentioned to some teachers how I really don’t like seeing the year 8 class be rule enforcers, hitting children if they do anything wrong. The teachers made sure immediately that the year 8 class was without sticks. (A small corporal punishment victory.)
Health Check
Health Check
My mom read my blog about me hopping fences, and told me to be careful. Three and a half months after her fall here, she is still struggling and told me about the times she falls. She now has a boot on her foot, which makes it easier for her to crawl up and down stairs, so she is not stuck on the first floor of the house. Mom can now sleep in an actual bed. She is worried that I might have an accident like hers.
As for my scraped face, it has healed for the most part. I still feel the mark where I scraped it, but it no longer stings when I sweat or anything. I am still hopping fences when I am too lazy to open the gate, sorry mom.
In other news, my bike is broken. Someone borrowed it and so the chain is broken. It won’t catch the gears. So at least for awhile I won’t be falling off my bike.
I still have my boils. They are under my armpit, and irritate terribly. One of them is infected. (Well isn’t a boil an infection already? I am not sure of this. So maybe there is another infection on top of the infection…) Today I noticed a nice green coloring on the big red blob. Good thing I am going to Apia Thanksgiving weekend, because I might give up on my home remedies of curing them. They keep growing bigger, and now they are big enough where I am thinking about naming them. Any suggestions?
During the dry season the mosquitoes were used to me, so I rarely was bitten . Now, since it is the rainy season, if I neglect to put on bug spray I end up with about fifty bites in one day. No joke. Thankfully, none of the mosquitoes have kissed me with Dengue. I hope it stays that way.
It has been raining every day for a week, lately it’s been for the entire day. I keep hearing everyone playing volleyball in the rain, and I want to join them, but I don’t want to chance getting sick before Jen comes to visit. (A little over a week to go!) So I feel somewhat trapped indoors. It could be worse… I could be stuck indoors where you are…(Ha ha, just kidding!)
(In other injury news Lauren, one of the amazing girls from Stanley Lake High School, in Jefferson County Co, who is playing college ball, just had surgery on her knee. Good luck Lauren! I hope you have a fast recovery!!!!)
My mom read my blog about me hopping fences, and told me to be careful. Three and a half months after her fall here, she is still struggling and told me about the times she falls. She now has a boot on her foot, which makes it easier for her to crawl up and down stairs, so she is not stuck on the first floor of the house. Mom can now sleep in an actual bed. She is worried that I might have an accident like hers.
As for my scraped face, it has healed for the most part. I still feel the mark where I scraped it, but it no longer stings when I sweat or anything. I am still hopping fences when I am too lazy to open the gate, sorry mom.
In other news, my bike is broken. Someone borrowed it and so the chain is broken. It won’t catch the gears. So at least for awhile I won’t be falling off my bike.
I still have my boils. They are under my armpit, and irritate terribly. One of them is infected. (Well isn’t a boil an infection already? I am not sure of this. So maybe there is another infection on top of the infection…) Today I noticed a nice green coloring on the big red blob. Good thing I am going to Apia Thanksgiving weekend, because I might give up on my home remedies of curing them. They keep growing bigger, and now they are big enough where I am thinking about naming them. Any suggestions?
During the dry season the mosquitoes were used to me, so I rarely was bitten . Now, since it is the rainy season, if I neglect to put on bug spray I end up with about fifty bites in one day. No joke. Thankfully, none of the mosquitoes have kissed me with Dengue. I hope it stays that way.
It has been raining every day for a week, lately it’s been for the entire day. I keep hearing everyone playing volleyball in the rain, and I want to join them, but I don’t want to chance getting sick before Jen comes to visit. (A little over a week to go!) So I feel somewhat trapped indoors. It could be worse… I could be stuck indoors where you are…(Ha ha, just kidding!)
(In other injury news Lauren, one of the amazing girls from Stanley Lake High School, in Jefferson County Co, who is playing college ball, just had surgery on her knee. Good luck Lauren! I hope you have a fast recovery!!!!)
Saturday, November 13, 2010
photo Memories 4
More pictures...Everyone loves pictures of chickens! At least I do!
Also a picture of group 82 on the bus, and the scenery around Apia.
Photo Blog 3
Everyone loves coconut trees! I especially like when people climb them to give me niu to drink!
Scenery 
Pretty trees! 
Picnics are amazing! This is group 82. 
I love Samoan Beaches!
Photo Memories 2
Here are some more memories from the past....Pictures from the Lady Samoa, Snorkeling, and hanging out with group 82.
Picture Memories
Here are some pictures from the past....Sort of a blast form the past of Samoa.
Upolu Beaches when Group 82 when during water safety day.
Friday, November 12, 2010
Bees go Buzzzz...but Sometimes They Spell....
Spelling Bee
The spelling bee has been going on for over a week, so when I was offered the opportunity to go to our district spelling bee I decided to take them up on it.
There are two representatives from each school. One is to spell in English and the other is to spell in Samoan. They are given about twenty words from all of their subject areas and are to spell them correctly, getting points for each correctly spelled word.
The year 8 teacher was to bring their two students, which was easy if the year 8 teacher had a car like ours does. However, some teachers and students had to wait for the bus, hitch rides, or even take a taxi. This meant that people were showing up at different times to the event, and we started about an hour late since we had to wait for each school to arrive.
While we were waiting I greeted the teachers I knew, and spent time with the kids. I am surprised with how many students know me from all over. I just kept hearing, “Hi Lili!” for all different directions. I had my IPod, since I was originally going to be at school, and we do many sing a longs in class, so a few of us sat in the corner listening to music while singing and dancing in our chairs while we waited.
The event started like most events in Samoa, with a prayer. They then went over the rules for the competition and what to expect the following week. The students were to have 5 seconds to spell the word, a time that I thought was surprisingly fast. They then called 5 schools up to compete.
First 5 students competed in English, then the next 5 competed in Samoan. I learned quickly that spelling bees are completely different in America. First off, I felt horrible for the children, because the announcer did not always have the best pronunciation, and often dropped letters, especially at the end, which caused the students to spell the words incorrectly. Often they said a different word than what they were supposed to spell. Only once did they offer a sentence for the word to ensure the student had the correct word.
One of the announcers cut students off too quickly saying it was incorrect, while the other announcer gave them a second to resay in the correct spelling.
The words that they used are supposed to be words that come up in English class, Samoan, math, social science, and basic science. It still cracks me up when I hear the word math pluralized to become maths, along with other math terms like subtraction becoming subtractions. I never heard before coming here, “Take out your maths book and practice subtractions of three digit numbers.” Okay…well subtractions I guess can work sometimes, but maths I don’t think ever does.
To make the spelling bee even harder students had to remember to say capital letters for proper nouns, and Samoan markers such as ‘ and -. This makes spelling so confusing in the different languages.
When all ten students were finished, the second round started, and finally the third.
The event ended with ice cream and cookies for the teachers, which they shared with their students. We then got clamshells full of food to bring home to eat.
I learned that spelling bees are completely different than they are in America, and I tried to explain the differences to my year 8 teacher on the drive home. Children are given more chances here, and they are willing to repeat words, while in America it seems like they have an unlimited amount of words to use. Also, spelling bees would last a day, and not weeks.
We then discussed the meaning of the word, bee as in spelling bee. I explained that it is an in school competition for subjects like spelling, geography, math and others. (Is that correct?)
Next week the television camera are coming to film the semi final round. (Not that we have a working antenna to watch it at home.) I was told to get a new outfit made and to come back.
Maybe I will to see how it turns out…
The spelling bee has been going on for over a week, so when I was offered the opportunity to go to our district spelling bee I decided to take them up on it.
There are two representatives from each school. One is to spell in English and the other is to spell in Samoan. They are given about twenty words from all of their subject areas and are to spell them correctly, getting points for each correctly spelled word.
The year 8 teacher was to bring their two students, which was easy if the year 8 teacher had a car like ours does. However, some teachers and students had to wait for the bus, hitch rides, or even take a taxi. This meant that people were showing up at different times to the event, and we started about an hour late since we had to wait for each school to arrive.
While we were waiting I greeted the teachers I knew, and spent time with the kids. I am surprised with how many students know me from all over. I just kept hearing, “Hi Lili!” for all different directions. I had my IPod, since I was originally going to be at school, and we do many sing a longs in class, so a few of us sat in the corner listening to music while singing and dancing in our chairs while we waited.
The event started like most events in Samoa, with a prayer. They then went over the rules for the competition and what to expect the following week. The students were to have 5 seconds to spell the word, a time that I thought was surprisingly fast. They then called 5 schools up to compete.
First 5 students competed in English, then the next 5 competed in Samoan. I learned quickly that spelling bees are completely different in America. First off, I felt horrible for the children, because the announcer did not always have the best pronunciation, and often dropped letters, especially at the end, which caused the students to spell the words incorrectly. Often they said a different word than what they were supposed to spell. Only once did they offer a sentence for the word to ensure the student had the correct word.
One of the announcers cut students off too quickly saying it was incorrect, while the other announcer gave them a second to resay in the correct spelling.
The words that they used are supposed to be words that come up in English class, Samoan, math, social science, and basic science. It still cracks me up when I hear the word math pluralized to become maths, along with other math terms like subtraction becoming subtractions. I never heard before coming here, “Take out your maths book and practice subtractions of three digit numbers.” Okay…well subtractions I guess can work sometimes, but maths I don’t think ever does.
To make the spelling bee even harder students had to remember to say capital letters for proper nouns, and Samoan markers such as ‘ and -. This makes spelling so confusing in the different languages.
When all ten students were finished, the second round started, and finally the third.
The event ended with ice cream and cookies for the teachers, which they shared with their students. We then got clamshells full of food to bring home to eat.
I learned that spelling bees are completely different than they are in America, and I tried to explain the differences to my year 8 teacher on the drive home. Children are given more chances here, and they are willing to repeat words, while in America it seems like they have an unlimited amount of words to use. Also, spelling bees would last a day, and not weeks.
We then discussed the meaning of the word, bee as in spelling bee. I explained that it is an in school competition for subjects like spelling, geography, math and others. (Is that correct?)
Next week the television camera are coming to film the semi final round. (Not that we have a working antenna to watch it at home.) I was told to get a new outfit made and to come back.
Maybe I will to see how it turns out…
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Reading-The Road Show
Reading On the Road
I love being outside and people watching. I always have. This is why I would often sit outside to read in America. In college I would sit around in public places to study so I could be distracted by people I know. It probably isn’t the best way to retain information, but it worked for me.
I decided there is no reason to only read at home anymore. So, I am taking it on the road. Literally. I’ve been enjoying sitting under a big ulu (breadfruit) tree next to the main road (opposed to the plantation road) to read. Sometimes I have kids come by to sit around me and watch me read, something they talk to me. Other times I get invited to different houses to spend time.
It is funny because the kids see the size of my books, and they are much bigger than the picture books that I normally read to them, and I think the only large book they have seen is the bible. So they assume that I am reading the bible every day. It is really funny to explain that there are different books in the world that people read for fun.
Sitting outside on the road to read is good because it is promoting reading more and more. I have had many people come over to me to request books. It is nice to promote literacy here….now if only books were more accessable….
I love being outside and people watching. I always have. This is why I would often sit outside to read in America. In college I would sit around in public places to study so I could be distracted by people I know. It probably isn’t the best way to retain information, but it worked for me.
I decided there is no reason to only read at home anymore. So, I am taking it on the road. Literally. I’ve been enjoying sitting under a big ulu (breadfruit) tree next to the main road (opposed to the plantation road) to read. Sometimes I have kids come by to sit around me and watch me read, something they talk to me. Other times I get invited to different houses to spend time.
It is funny because the kids see the size of my books, and they are much bigger than the picture books that I normally read to them, and I think the only large book they have seen is the bible. So they assume that I am reading the bible every day. It is really funny to explain that there are different books in the world that people read for fun.
Sitting outside on the road to read is good because it is promoting reading more and more. I have had many people come over to me to request books. It is nice to promote literacy here….now if only books were more accessable….
Lice
Lice aka fleas
A few times a week I will have someone pull me aside and check my hair for lice, what some people call fleas. Lice is a big problem in the village, and it is really interesting from an outsiders perspective to see what people do to combat the problem.
You will always find people grooming each other to check for the little nasty creatures. Some people comb them out with the lice combs, and dispose of them on a cloth (I am not sure what happens to them after than), which other pick them out and eat them. Still others take a more inventive approach.
I heard a story once about a volunteer who let her village help her with her lice problem. They sprayed a lot of the toxic bug spray in their hair, along with oranges (I think it was oranges), and wrapped it overnight. The next day, the lice were all dead.
I have had lice only once since being here (knock on wood) and I did the normal treatment we participate in America with, shampooing them out. It took a few weeks, but they finally disappeared completely.
No matter what, I always go over when a women calls me over to check my hair, because it is a comforting thought that they will help me with whatever problem I may encounter.
A few times a week I will have someone pull me aside and check my hair for lice, what some people call fleas. Lice is a big problem in the village, and it is really interesting from an outsiders perspective to see what people do to combat the problem.
You will always find people grooming each other to check for the little nasty creatures. Some people comb them out with the lice combs, and dispose of them on a cloth (I am not sure what happens to them after than), which other pick them out and eat them. Still others take a more inventive approach.
I heard a story once about a volunteer who let her village help her with her lice problem. They sprayed a lot of the toxic bug spray in their hair, along with oranges (I think it was oranges), and wrapped it overnight. The next day, the lice were all dead.
I have had lice only once since being here (knock on wood) and I did the normal treatment we participate in America with, shampooing them out. It took a few weeks, but they finally disappeared completely.
No matter what, I always go over when a women calls me over to check my hair, because it is a comforting thought that they will help me with whatever problem I may encounter.
MyVillage
Village Growing
I set a goal for myself, in order to possibly run the half marathon for Independence Day, I would run at least that distance each week. This meant that I would begin to run further than I was used to. I added a new village to my running routine.
Now my running spans 8 villages. Eight villages where people know me, call my name out, and invite me to rest with them and have a drink of tea, or a game of volleyball. In the further villages not everyone knows me, and I still get called “palagi” a lot, but I am not letting this bother me. It just encourages me to keep running to see these people until they recognize me by name.
This may sound strange, like an attempt to become popular, but really I just want to connect with more people. It is nice to know people in your village, but it is also nice to know people elsewhere. You never know when you might need something, whether it be a drink, a bite to eat, a ride, or even a smile, and the more people I know, the better chance I have of people helping me each and every day.
I set a goal for myself, in order to possibly run the half marathon for Independence Day, I would run at least that distance each week. This meant that I would begin to run further than I was used to. I added a new village to my running routine.
Now my running spans 8 villages. Eight villages where people know me, call my name out, and invite me to rest with them and have a drink of tea, or a game of volleyball. In the further villages not everyone knows me, and I still get called “palagi” a lot, but I am not letting this bother me. It just encourages me to keep running to see these people until they recognize me by name.
This may sound strange, like an attempt to become popular, but really I just want to connect with more people. It is nice to know people in your village, but it is also nice to know people elsewhere. You never know when you might need something, whether it be a drink, a bite to eat, a ride, or even a smile, and the more people I know, the better chance I have of people helping me each and every day.
Ode to Sundays
A Sunday to never forget
I love Sundays. I did not used to. I used to think they were so boring. All you do is walk to church, eat, sleep, then eat some more. I did not see the beauty in the day, because I was busy thinking of the negativity.
The longer I have been in Samoa, the more things have began to change. Sundays now are my favorite. They are a day that I really get to spend in my community, and enjoy relaxation.
Almost every Sunday after church I go to eat with a different family. We have a gigantic feast of the best food Samoa has to offer. Then, we joke around, hang out, and maybe even lounge on the floor and take naps.
This past Sunday after church I went to the bishop’s house. I love spending time with his family because they are so friendly, and really are my family. For our meal, they made sure to put dishes with my favorite food directly in front of me. Which meant, pumpkin soup, mashed pumpkin, fish, taro and other goodies. (Wow, that is all food I would never touch in America…) They always make sure I eat until I feel like I am about to explode, and with the many dishes of deliciousness, it is a task that is easy. Then since they had family visiting from Apia, we had a special treat, ice cream.
I then spent hours talking and hanging out. The girls and I alternated lounging out on the mattresses with putting on wigs and dancing to music.
I was planning to go to the neighboring village to go to the afternoon service, but after spending the time with the family, I did not want to leave. I felt so much at home, a feeling that I love because I feel all over Samoa.
So when they invited me to drive to the other side of the island, I quickly agreed. I wasn’t ready to say good bye for the day. We loaded up 11 of us into a van and headed west. It was great. We drove past all the villages I know so well, and felt like I was having a homecoming. Then, towards the area that is unfamiliar to me. It was beautiful. I fell in love with Savaii all over again. We finally arrived in Manese, the village we were to drop someone off at, exactly on the complete opposite side of the island. I saw some palagis at the beach resorts, and were happy that they had the opportunity to visit my island.
The ride was going so quickly because we sat there singing, talking and having the time of our lives. As my 9 year old friend was sitting next to me so close, that she was practically on my lap, I began to reflect on how I would have felt in this situation a year ago.
A year ago, I would not have thought the idea of a few hour car trip for no reason would be fun. I also would not be fond of the closeness of a young girl to me. I used to need my space. Now I see nothing wrong with how close we all get to one another.
It made me think of another volunteer’s story of going back to America for a visit. She was taking public transportation, and saw a seat between two women. Of course she decided to sit there. Apparently the women did not like the closeness in proximity to them, and had to stand up. How the women were feeling, is exactly how I would have felt a year ago. But now, it feels like close is the only way to be. Which is why, uncomfortable as it may be, I do enjoy the crowded busses, where we often sit four to a seat.
The sun began to set as we finished winding from the east side to the west side. I looked over at the east side, and became thrilled with where I live. Although the eastern side of Savai’i has nice beaches, but it does not come close to comparing to the sunsets on the west side. In my opinion, I live in the most beautiful place in the world.
We arrived back in our village and even though I was exhausted from the day, I could not stop beaming. I had such a fun day, that it is impossible to put into words.
Sundays are so unique and special. It is a time to not have any worries and think about all the people that love you. Like most volunteers, I feel really fortunate since I have such a large family here and in America.
When you combine my Sundays with Saturdays being spent in a similar fashion with family, I think I have the best weekends of any volunteer. They may laugh at my dedication to church and village life on the weekends but weekends aren’t about that. It is about relaxing with the people you love. Which is why I love weekends.
I love Sundays. I did not used to. I used to think they were so boring. All you do is walk to church, eat, sleep, then eat some more. I did not see the beauty in the day, because I was busy thinking of the negativity.
The longer I have been in Samoa, the more things have began to change. Sundays now are my favorite. They are a day that I really get to spend in my community, and enjoy relaxation.
Almost every Sunday after church I go to eat with a different family. We have a gigantic feast of the best food Samoa has to offer. Then, we joke around, hang out, and maybe even lounge on the floor and take naps.
This past Sunday after church I went to the bishop’s house. I love spending time with his family because they are so friendly, and really are my family. For our meal, they made sure to put dishes with my favorite food directly in front of me. Which meant, pumpkin soup, mashed pumpkin, fish, taro and other goodies. (Wow, that is all food I would never touch in America…) They always make sure I eat until I feel like I am about to explode, and with the many dishes of deliciousness, it is a task that is easy. Then since they had family visiting from Apia, we had a special treat, ice cream.
I then spent hours talking and hanging out. The girls and I alternated lounging out on the mattresses with putting on wigs and dancing to music.
I was planning to go to the neighboring village to go to the afternoon service, but after spending the time with the family, I did not want to leave. I felt so much at home, a feeling that I love because I feel all over Samoa.
So when they invited me to drive to the other side of the island, I quickly agreed. I wasn’t ready to say good bye for the day. We loaded up 11 of us into a van and headed west. It was great. We drove past all the villages I know so well, and felt like I was having a homecoming. Then, towards the area that is unfamiliar to me. It was beautiful. I fell in love with Savaii all over again. We finally arrived in Manese, the village we were to drop someone off at, exactly on the complete opposite side of the island. I saw some palagis at the beach resorts, and were happy that they had the opportunity to visit my island.
The ride was going so quickly because we sat there singing, talking and having the time of our lives. As my 9 year old friend was sitting next to me so close, that she was practically on my lap, I began to reflect on how I would have felt in this situation a year ago.
A year ago, I would not have thought the idea of a few hour car trip for no reason would be fun. I also would not be fond of the closeness of a young girl to me. I used to need my space. Now I see nothing wrong with how close we all get to one another.
It made me think of another volunteer’s story of going back to America for a visit. She was taking public transportation, and saw a seat between two women. Of course she decided to sit there. Apparently the women did not like the closeness in proximity to them, and had to stand up. How the women were feeling, is exactly how I would have felt a year ago. But now, it feels like close is the only way to be. Which is why, uncomfortable as it may be, I do enjoy the crowded busses, where we often sit four to a seat.
The sun began to set as we finished winding from the east side to the west side. I looked over at the east side, and became thrilled with where I live. Although the eastern side of Savai’i has nice beaches, but it does not come close to comparing to the sunsets on the west side. In my opinion, I live in the most beautiful place in the world.
We arrived back in our village and even though I was exhausted from the day, I could not stop beaming. I had such a fun day, that it is impossible to put into words.
Sundays are so unique and special. It is a time to not have any worries and think about all the people that love you. Like most volunteers, I feel really fortunate since I have such a large family here and in America.
When you combine my Sundays with Saturdays being spent in a similar fashion with family, I think I have the best weekends of any volunteer. They may laugh at my dedication to church and village life on the weekends but weekends aren’t about that. It is about relaxing with the people you love. Which is why I love weekends.
Free Nights
Free nights
Having a cell phone is great, I mean it puts me in contact with everyone I want to. It makes it easy to make plans both for work and socially. It also means that people I don’t want to will contact me. In the US this meant telemarketers, here it means random strangers that are looking for a pe’u (girlfriend).
I don’t know how people find out my phone number, but they do, and sometimes really need to get in touch with you….which means calling, and calling and calling again. Sometimes, they are courteous, and text several times instead.
I feel like there are certain days where the whole island decides to get in contact with me. Which means my phone does not stop ringing from texts or calls all night long. (Not enjoyable when you love sleep as much as I do.)
The promotions that the cell phone company has do not help. If you talk for 3 minutes, you get 3 free hours of talk at night (beginning at midnight). I think some men might think three hours of talk is a perfect way to find a pe’u, and that might be the cause for some of these late night calls.
At least I can always shut my phone off, to get a good night’s sleep.
Having a cell phone is great, I mean it puts me in contact with everyone I want to. It makes it easy to make plans both for work and socially. It also means that people I don’t want to will contact me. In the US this meant telemarketers, here it means random strangers that are looking for a pe’u (girlfriend).
I don’t know how people find out my phone number, but they do, and sometimes really need to get in touch with you….which means calling, and calling and calling again. Sometimes, they are courteous, and text several times instead.
I feel like there are certain days where the whole island decides to get in contact with me. Which means my phone does not stop ringing from texts or calls all night long. (Not enjoyable when you love sleep as much as I do.)
The promotions that the cell phone company has do not help. If you talk for 3 minutes, you get 3 free hours of talk at night (beginning at midnight). I think some men might think three hours of talk is a perfect way to find a pe’u, and that might be the cause for some of these late night calls.
At least I can always shut my phone off, to get a good night’s sleep.
Hopping Fences-Not Always the Best Idea
Fence Hopping
My family has a fence around our house. The fence is to keep out the pigs. Somehow pigs always find a way to get inside, despite how many time you reinforce the fence with different types of wired fencing. The gate opens up to allow cars inside, but the door that once used to swing so easily, now is one heavy piece of wood. It is big enough for a large vehicle to pass with ease.
On days where I ride my bike, I struggle with opening the gate a crack to allow my bike to squeeze through. However, when the gate is closed, I do not want to struggle with the rope tying the gate to the fence, so I do the only sensible thing; I hop the fence.
The fence is about waist high and I usually climb on the boulder next to the fence to give me an extra few inches of help. Some days my shorts get stuck on the wiring of the fence, other times I worry about wearing a skirt, but it never stops me from jumping over the fence.
This morning, I think I must have still been half asleep. I stood on the rock and lifted my legs and hopped over. It was like any ordinary day, but this time I neglected to see where one of the wooden posts were.
I felt a burning sensation on my cheek, but figured it was nothing from a slight incident with a piece of a stick. As I walked down our road my students began stopping me to ask me what happened. I asked what they were talking about, and they asked about me my mouth. I was completely confused as my mouth is in perfect condition. Finally I realized what they were talking about my cheek. Stupidly, I asked what was wrong, and the color of my cheeks. They replied nervously, about it being all red.
All day long people around the school kept asking me what happened, I had yet to see my face, and was confused about all of the commotion. When I told them what I did, they were all surprised that I didn’t open the gate myself. (This shows they think of me as being different than themselves, because no one usually opens gates, they usually hop over them. Something I have learned not to mind doing….although I prefer to only hop the fence near the gate, and not elsewhere unlike my sister and others.)
Finally, about nine hours after my incident with the piece of wood on the fence, I arrived back home, a place where there is a mirror. My cheek was still a dark red from the gash the wood took out of it.
Will this teach me a lesson from hopping fences, instead of opening gates, probably not. Wounds heal, and gates still are not fun to open.
My family has a fence around our house. The fence is to keep out the pigs. Somehow pigs always find a way to get inside, despite how many time you reinforce the fence with different types of wired fencing. The gate opens up to allow cars inside, but the door that once used to swing so easily, now is one heavy piece of wood. It is big enough for a large vehicle to pass with ease.
On days where I ride my bike, I struggle with opening the gate a crack to allow my bike to squeeze through. However, when the gate is closed, I do not want to struggle with the rope tying the gate to the fence, so I do the only sensible thing; I hop the fence.
The fence is about waist high and I usually climb on the boulder next to the fence to give me an extra few inches of help. Some days my shorts get stuck on the wiring of the fence, other times I worry about wearing a skirt, but it never stops me from jumping over the fence.
This morning, I think I must have still been half asleep. I stood on the rock and lifted my legs and hopped over. It was like any ordinary day, but this time I neglected to see where one of the wooden posts were.
I felt a burning sensation on my cheek, but figured it was nothing from a slight incident with a piece of a stick. As I walked down our road my students began stopping me to ask me what happened. I asked what they were talking about, and they asked about me my mouth. I was completely confused as my mouth is in perfect condition. Finally I realized what they were talking about my cheek. Stupidly, I asked what was wrong, and the color of my cheeks. They replied nervously, about it being all red.
All day long people around the school kept asking me what happened, I had yet to see my face, and was confused about all of the commotion. When I told them what I did, they were all surprised that I didn’t open the gate myself. (This shows they think of me as being different than themselves, because no one usually opens gates, they usually hop over them. Something I have learned not to mind doing….although I prefer to only hop the fence near the gate, and not elsewhere unlike my sister and others.)
Finally, about nine hours after my incident with the piece of wood on the fence, I arrived back home, a place where there is a mirror. My cheek was still a dark red from the gash the wood took out of it.
Will this teach me a lesson from hopping fences, instead of opening gates, probably not. Wounds heal, and gates still are not fun to open.
Rock the Boat
Rock the boat
I found myself in Apia. A place I didn’t plan to be. It is such a commute to get to the city, and I hate doing the round trip in one day. (If I take the first boat, it takes about nine hours to arrive at the city. Which means the previous night is usually sleepless as I am often afraid of missing the bus.) So I decided to stay in Apia over night, and convinced my partners in crime Cassie and Rachel to do the same. (Rachel was will to do the roundtrip to Savai’i that day, but I convinced her boat trips are more fun with a friend, and thankfully she listened.)
This trip I found myself doing something that I have not done in a year. At 1:30 in the morning, I opened up my Ziploc bag that contained pants, and put on a pair of pants. It was weird as I finished getting my things together around my room, I felt so scandalous walking around, since I was wearing something I never wear, since it is sa (not allowed) to wear pants in the village for females. I put on my lavalava over the pants, making sure they were covered completely, because I felt a little weird to be wearing them.
The bus arrived in Salelologa around 4:30, and I headed to the tiny Peace Corps office to wait for the boat. Awhile later Rachel met me there, and I showed her what I was wearing. “Wow, you look so American,” she told me. I told her how weird it felt to be wearing the clothes I was.
We went to the boat together, and took naps on the top deck of the boat. I used my lavalava as a blanket, like normal, and when we arrived at the wharf, I looked at Rachel and asked if I should put it back on. “We are in Apia,” she reminded me. So I acted as many Samoans do when they arrive in the big city, I ignored the many village rules that had been engraved into my brain and decided to “let loose”. I walked off the boat with my lavalava in my bag, and wearing my pants. With how scandalous I was feeling in my room, I was feeling even more so as I headed on the bus. I felt as if everyone was staring at me for wearing something I shouldn’t be. Of course it was all in my head, but it was weird to reflect on where my head is, especially in comparison to a year ago.
After doing the errands that sent us to Apia, we found ourselves with a loss on how to spend the remainder of the day. We knew we could easily find a place to sleep, but we could not ignore the opportunity to be around the friends we rarely see. We contacted some of our favorite people in Apia, and learned some of them had relatives visiting form overseas.
This lead us to being tourists for the first time in the nightlife setting.
We were going to Rock the Boat.
I had heard stories of Rock the Boat, that is was a little party ship, but knew not much about it. Rachel and Cassie, both being from NJ and NY respectively, began thinking of the little boats that go around the NY harbor, and figured the night might be something like that.
Except for the many white people, dressed how we would picture them if they were going out in New York City, we couldn’t have been more wrong.
The boat left the dock before sunset, and travelled for about ten minutes before stopping. This is where we would be for the next few hours. We were to be on a rocking boat, looking at Apia. We were so close that some of our friends who missed the boat’s launch were able to catch up to us on a little dingy.
There were so many white people on the boat, that us girls do what we have done as a response to seeing a group of white people for the past year, get nervous. We don’t remember how we used to act around a group of non-Samoans, and don’t want to do anything that we would think of as being offensive, so we cling to all of the Samoans we can (Besides our palagi friends that we know in Samoa, since they are also safe to us). This meant we befriended the staff quickly.
Besides staying in our tight knit group, we had an amazing night full of dancing and karaoke. We were surprised how much fun we had on a boat that was sitting right next to the dock.
When I summed up the day to my friends, they had a laugh with me. What was I to do in a year when I arrive back in America. They pictured what I found be wearing my first Christmas, and it gave me a laugh. We then imagined us going on in NY together, wearing our lavalavas and weird tops from CCK, our favorite store.
No matter what, I know that I will have my connections to Samoa in America, with my Peace Corps friends, and my sister Sharlene. Maybe one day we will go on a real night boat ride together, and get to see something besides the Apia harbor. We could even go tasi’ed up. (That would be a site to see…)
I found myself in Apia. A place I didn’t plan to be. It is such a commute to get to the city, and I hate doing the round trip in one day. (If I take the first boat, it takes about nine hours to arrive at the city. Which means the previous night is usually sleepless as I am often afraid of missing the bus.) So I decided to stay in Apia over night, and convinced my partners in crime Cassie and Rachel to do the same. (Rachel was will to do the roundtrip to Savai’i that day, but I convinced her boat trips are more fun with a friend, and thankfully she listened.)
This trip I found myself doing something that I have not done in a year. At 1:30 in the morning, I opened up my Ziploc bag that contained pants, and put on a pair of pants. It was weird as I finished getting my things together around my room, I felt so scandalous walking around, since I was wearing something I never wear, since it is sa (not allowed) to wear pants in the village for females. I put on my lavalava over the pants, making sure they were covered completely, because I felt a little weird to be wearing them.
The bus arrived in Salelologa around 4:30, and I headed to the tiny Peace Corps office to wait for the boat. Awhile later Rachel met me there, and I showed her what I was wearing. “Wow, you look so American,” she told me. I told her how weird it felt to be wearing the clothes I was.
We went to the boat together, and took naps on the top deck of the boat. I used my lavalava as a blanket, like normal, and when we arrived at the wharf, I looked at Rachel and asked if I should put it back on. “We are in Apia,” she reminded me. So I acted as many Samoans do when they arrive in the big city, I ignored the many village rules that had been engraved into my brain and decided to “let loose”. I walked off the boat with my lavalava in my bag, and wearing my pants. With how scandalous I was feeling in my room, I was feeling even more so as I headed on the bus. I felt as if everyone was staring at me for wearing something I shouldn’t be. Of course it was all in my head, but it was weird to reflect on where my head is, especially in comparison to a year ago.
After doing the errands that sent us to Apia, we found ourselves with a loss on how to spend the remainder of the day. We knew we could easily find a place to sleep, but we could not ignore the opportunity to be around the friends we rarely see. We contacted some of our favorite people in Apia, and learned some of them had relatives visiting form overseas.
This lead us to being tourists for the first time in the nightlife setting.
We were going to Rock the Boat.
I had heard stories of Rock the Boat, that is was a little party ship, but knew not much about it. Rachel and Cassie, both being from NJ and NY respectively, began thinking of the little boats that go around the NY harbor, and figured the night might be something like that.
Except for the many white people, dressed how we would picture them if they were going out in New York City, we couldn’t have been more wrong.
The boat left the dock before sunset, and travelled for about ten minutes before stopping. This is where we would be for the next few hours. We were to be on a rocking boat, looking at Apia. We were so close that some of our friends who missed the boat’s launch were able to catch up to us on a little dingy.
There were so many white people on the boat, that us girls do what we have done as a response to seeing a group of white people for the past year, get nervous. We don’t remember how we used to act around a group of non-Samoans, and don’t want to do anything that we would think of as being offensive, so we cling to all of the Samoans we can (Besides our palagi friends that we know in Samoa, since they are also safe to us). This meant we befriended the staff quickly.
Besides staying in our tight knit group, we had an amazing night full of dancing and karaoke. We were surprised how much fun we had on a boat that was sitting right next to the dock.
When I summed up the day to my friends, they had a laugh with me. What was I to do in a year when I arrive back in America. They pictured what I found be wearing my first Christmas, and it gave me a laugh. We then imagined us going on in NY together, wearing our lavalavas and weird tops from CCK, our favorite store.
No matter what, I know that I will have my connections to Samoa in America, with my Peace Corps friends, and my sister Sharlene. Maybe one day we will go on a real night boat ride together, and get to see something besides the Apia harbor. We could even go tasi’ed up. (That would be a site to see…)
Me? An expert? Why would you think that?
Expert
Somehow I am back to being thought of as the expert of everyone anyone needs help with. People call me over to get help with homework in all subject areas, to see if I know how to fix something, or just in random knowledge. I don’t know how I got this reputation, but I am trying my best to be what people want.
This means after school (or sometimes even during school) I find myself in different situations. Helping people with calculus (never took it…), setting up electronics, teaching people to use computers , and fixing computers.
I don’t know why people think I have this magical ability to do all of those things, and more, but they seem to really trust me. So I don’t want to let them down, and I always agree to go over to their house and perform the various tasks. Sometimes I am a hero, other times I at least get to enjoy a delicious cup of Samoan coco while humoring them with my attempts.
Last week being an expert sent me to Apia, a trip I was not looking forward to doing. I set up our new school computer, and photocopy machine, but when I attempted to connect them together, I experienced problems. Setting up a printer to a computer should be easy, especially when you have the cd. But, there was some sort of error, and I was unable to complete my task. For two weeks I called the company that sold it to our school, and they never called me back. My school decided that the only solution was for me to go to Apia to talk to them in person.
After a seven-ish hour commute, I arrived at the business and told them my problem. After telling them all of their easy solutions did not work, I was instructed to try something else, even though the computer was on another island. I told them to hold on, and I would call the school and have someone try, but technology is expensive, and if someone who is not palagi uses it, it will break (according to them).
So I had to wait until Monday to try it out. And it did not work (of course). This time it only took two phone calls to get in touch with the tech support from the company. Everything they suggested was failing. Their only solution was for me to come to Apia and bring the computer. I was not about to hop on the boat and do that long commute with a big desktop computer. (A few busses and a ferry with that big old thing, not fun! ) (Thankfully my school was in agreement on it waiting for someone travelling to Apia to bring it in.)
Everyone is scared to touch the computer for fear of it breaking, even though I try to reassure everyone that there is nothing really wrong with the machine. So again, the technology sits there….
I guess in closing I just think it’s weird that everyone seems to trust the thought of me being an expert, when I clearly know I am not. (I’m sure Billy is laughing right now thinking of me solving all the math and computer problems from my area of the island…)
Somehow I am back to being thought of as the expert of everyone anyone needs help with. People call me over to get help with homework in all subject areas, to see if I know how to fix something, or just in random knowledge. I don’t know how I got this reputation, but I am trying my best to be what people want.
This means after school (or sometimes even during school) I find myself in different situations. Helping people with calculus (never took it…), setting up electronics, teaching people to use computers , and fixing computers.
I don’t know why people think I have this magical ability to do all of those things, and more, but they seem to really trust me. So I don’t want to let them down, and I always agree to go over to their house and perform the various tasks. Sometimes I am a hero, other times I at least get to enjoy a delicious cup of Samoan coco while humoring them with my attempts.
Last week being an expert sent me to Apia, a trip I was not looking forward to doing. I set up our new school computer, and photocopy machine, but when I attempted to connect them together, I experienced problems. Setting up a printer to a computer should be easy, especially when you have the cd. But, there was some sort of error, and I was unable to complete my task. For two weeks I called the company that sold it to our school, and they never called me back. My school decided that the only solution was for me to go to Apia to talk to them in person.
After a seven-ish hour commute, I arrived at the business and told them my problem. After telling them all of their easy solutions did not work, I was instructed to try something else, even though the computer was on another island. I told them to hold on, and I would call the school and have someone try, but technology is expensive, and if someone who is not palagi uses it, it will break (according to them).
So I had to wait until Monday to try it out. And it did not work (of course). This time it only took two phone calls to get in touch with the tech support from the company. Everything they suggested was failing. Their only solution was for me to come to Apia and bring the computer. I was not about to hop on the boat and do that long commute with a big desktop computer. (A few busses and a ferry with that big old thing, not fun! ) (Thankfully my school was in agreement on it waiting for someone travelling to Apia to bring it in.)
Everyone is scared to touch the computer for fear of it breaking, even though I try to reassure everyone that there is nothing really wrong with the machine. So again, the technology sits there….
I guess in closing I just think it’s weird that everyone seems to trust the thought of me being an expert, when I clearly know I am not. (I’m sure Billy is laughing right now thinking of me solving all the math and computer problems from my area of the island…)
Me? An expert? Why would you think that?
Expert
Somehow I am back to being thought of as the expert of everyone anyone needs help with. People call me over to get help with homework in all subject areas, to see if I know how to fix something, or just in random knowledge. I don’t know how I got this reputation, but I am trying my best to be what people want.
This means after school (or sometimes even during school) I find myself in different situations. Helping people with calculus (never took it…), setting up electronics, teaching people to use computers , and fixing computers.
I don’t know why people think I have this magical ability to do all of those things, and more, but they seem to really trust me. So I don’t want to let them down, and I always agree to go over to their house and perform the various tasks. Sometimes I am a hero, other times I at least get to enjoy a delicious cup of Samoan coco while humoring them with my attempts.
Last week being an expert sent me to Apia, a trip I was not looking forward to doing. I set up our new school computer, and photocopy machine, but when I attempted to connect them together, I experienced problems. Setting up a printer to a computer should be easy, especially when you have the cd. But, there was some sort of error, and I was unable to complete my task. For two weeks I called the company that sold it to our school, and they never called me back. My school decided that the only solution was for me to go to Apia to talk to them in person.
After a seven-ish hour commute, I arrived at the business and told them my problem. After telling them all of their easy solutions did not work, I was instructed to try something else, even though the computer was on another island. I told them to hold on, and I would call the school and have someone try, but technology is expensive, and if someone who is not palagi uses it, it will break (according to them).
So I had to wait until Monday to try it out. And it did not work (of course). This time it only took two phone calls to get in touch with the tech support from the company. Everything they suggested was failing. Their only solution was for me to come to Apia and bring the computer. I was not about to hop on the boat and do that long commute with a big desktop computer. (A few busses and a ferry with that big old thing, not fun! ) (Thankfully my school was in agreement on it waiting for someone travelling to Apia to bring it in.)
Everyone is scared to touch the computer for fear of it breaking, even though I try to reassure everyone that there is nothing really wrong with the machine. So again, the technology sits there….
I guess in closing I just think it’s weird that everyone seems to trust the thought of me being an expert, when I clearly know I am not. (I’m sure Billy is laughing right now thinking of me solving all the math and computer problems from my area of the island…)
Somehow I am back to being thought of as the expert of everyone anyone needs help with. People call me over to get help with homework in all subject areas, to see if I know how to fix something, or just in random knowledge. I don’t know how I got this reputation, but I am trying my best to be what people want.
This means after school (or sometimes even during school) I find myself in different situations. Helping people with calculus (never took it…), setting up electronics, teaching people to use computers , and fixing computers.
I don’t know why people think I have this magical ability to do all of those things, and more, but they seem to really trust me. So I don’t want to let them down, and I always agree to go over to their house and perform the various tasks. Sometimes I am a hero, other times I at least get to enjoy a delicious cup of Samoan coco while humoring them with my attempts.
Last week being an expert sent me to Apia, a trip I was not looking forward to doing. I set up our new school computer, and photocopy machine, but when I attempted to connect them together, I experienced problems. Setting up a printer to a computer should be easy, especially when you have the cd. But, there was some sort of error, and I was unable to complete my task. For two weeks I called the company that sold it to our school, and they never called me back. My school decided that the only solution was for me to go to Apia to talk to them in person.
After a seven-ish hour commute, I arrived at the business and told them my problem. After telling them all of their easy solutions did not work, I was instructed to try something else, even though the computer was on another island. I told them to hold on, and I would call the school and have someone try, but technology is expensive, and if someone who is not palagi uses it, it will break (according to them).
So I had to wait until Monday to try it out. And it did not work (of course). This time it only took two phone calls to get in touch with the tech support from the company. Everything they suggested was failing. Their only solution was for me to come to Apia and bring the computer. I was not about to hop on the boat and do that long commute with a big desktop computer. (A few busses and a ferry with that big old thing, not fun! ) (Thankfully my school was in agreement on it waiting for someone travelling to Apia to bring it in.)
Everyone is scared to touch the computer for fear of it breaking, even though I try to reassure everyone that there is nothing really wrong with the machine. So again, the technology sits there….
I guess in closing I just think it’s weird that everyone seems to trust the thought of me being an expert, when I clearly know I am not. (I’m sure Billy is laughing right now thinking of me solving all the math and computer problems from my area of the island…)
Friday, November 5, 2010
Speed Bump
Speed bump
About eight months ago, after the first death occurred from a vehicle in my village, I helped my father type a letter to request a speed bump in our village for safety reasons. They answered our call, and we received one last week.
It was interesting to watch a construction crew at work, and I don’t think I would have been as interested if I was in America. Everything was don’t by hand, including the painting. They used paintbrushes and pieces of wood to paint in the lines.
Since then, cars have slowed down, which is a good thing. (It also makes it easier to explain my house to outsiders! Being near a speed bump is more recognizable than one of the many churches of Samoa.)
It is nice to have a safer village.
Iake- AKA Jacks
Iake
When I was real little we played with jacks (iake in Samoan), but it didn’t last long.
For the past few months, every day I see the students playing iake. It is a little difference since they lack the little rubber ball with the little fun metal pieces. They collect stones and play with those.
I’ve learned from watching how amazing of jugglers you can become from playing jacks. I am especially impressed with the size of some of the rocks they play with. I don’t know how the little kids fit so many rocks in their hands and play a game with them.
The only problem I am having with iake is the kids want to play it all the time. Everywhere I look, I see them playing. The problem is, they keep trying to play while I teach, and it is really distracting for me when I see rocks being thrown up in the air. It seems like every day I catch one of my students with rocks in the classroom. (Once I even saw them trying to play with small pencil stubs.)
I guess jacks is a past time around the world.
It is entertaining to watch, as long as I am not teaching!
Halloween 2010
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Halloween
Last year Halloween was beautiful. It was so unlike an Halloween I have ever had since we were sharing our tradition with people for the first time, which meant it was all about the kids. We played games, danced, and shared ghost stories-complete with a blackout in the middle of the story. We made costumes with the little materials we had, which made them interesting.
This year was going to be different. A few of the Peace Corps volunteers were throwing a party with the JICA volunteers and everyone had enough notice to make a costume….but I didn’t go.
Which meant I was to celebrate Halloween by myself. I wasn’t too worried. I know how to have a good time!
The week before Halloween I began teaching my students about the holiday. I shared with them pictures, books and stories from my past. It was a big step into my life for the year 4-8 classes.
The first day, I don’t know if it was the vocabulary I was using, but the students left my class for the day thinking Americans were weird for what they believed. (In fact they still might think so, from what I was telling them!) This pre assessment told me I had to take a step back.
With the help of my amazing art skills we went over vocabulary, especially what scares us around Halloween. Bats (pe’a) they thought were silly. Bats fly around everywhere and don’t do anything to humans, so why should people be frightened. Black cats (pusi uli uli)are still just cats. Cats don’t do anything bad. I tried explaining how in the dark you only see their eyes and it sends shivers down your spine, and they thought I was even weirder than the start of the class. Ghosts (aitu-probably spelled wrong) were normal. Everyone is scared of ghosts. Then I began to explain the hardest word, since I did not know the Samoan word for it, witches. I tried to explain how a witch could just point at you and turn you into something. I pretended I was a witch and did pointed to a kid and said I would switch you into an apple, pointed to a boy and told him to turn into a girl and so forth. It gave them quite a laugh.
I told them what kids do on Halloween and explained the phrase “Trick or Treat”. I asked them which one they would prefer from a neighbor, a trick played on them or candy, and just about everyone wanted the candy.
After an amazing story, written by yours truly (and other stories around the library) complete with reading comprehension, I taught the kids the amazing rhyme:
Trick or treat
Smell my feet
Give me something good to eat
If you don’t I don’t care
I’ll pull down your underwear
They burst into tears of laughter hearing this. Some of them were curious if people do get their underwear pulled down on Halloween which gave me even more laughs.
Halloween was on a Sunday. So like most Sundays, I went to church. The only reminder I had of it being Halloween and not an ordinary Sunday was when I went with my sister to buy pancakes in the evening. I looked up at the dark, cloudy, spooky sky, and saw a lone bat flying overhead.
Happy Halloween
My First Boil
Boil
I have felt horrible for my friends when they describe the pain they are in when they can’t walk or sit down from boils. I was wondering what they much have been doing to get them. It wasn’t just one sex, as boils don’t discriminate.
I was beginning to think I might fly through the two years without ever getting one. Almost 13 months in, my luck ran out.
I am getting a boil in my armpit. I know they say every place a boil emerges is uncomfortable, but this surely is as well. I can’t always keep my arms spread that open to give it air to breathe. But I am trying. The boil is still in its primitive stages, and I don’t want to develop into anything bigger than it is.
Please boil-go away soon!
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