Early in the Morning

I’m going to be short because I’m tired. Why am I tired? I slept at Phil’s house last night and made it to my school this morning in time to teach first period. That’s a taxi ride, a boat ride, a bus ride, and another taxi ride before 8:00 a.m. True, it was a plan of my own design, but it’s one thing to make the bed and another to lie in it.

Speaking of bed, I was still asleep when the taxi showed up at Phil’s house this morning. Though when we made arrangements with the driver last night, he had agreed to be at Phil’s at 5:00 a.m., he woke me up at 4:18 shouting, “Lipo! Lipo!”

When I showed up at the window groggy and confused, he asked in Samoan if I was going to Apia. “Yo!” I shouted as I put on my ’ie faitaga.

The taxi ride seemed short, probably because I came in and out of sleep. Stevie Wonder was on the radio, and the driver’s son sat in the passenger seat. I asked if we could stop at the bank on the way to the wharf. When we reached our final destination, the driver wished me a good trip back, “Manuia le malaga.”

The wharf in Salelologa is surprisingly busy on Monday mornings because so many people spend Sunday resting and rely on that first boat to get them back to Apia in time. The gates were still closed when I arrived, so I decided to head to the satellite Peace Corps office across the street to kill some time.

After a brief fight with the faulty Internet connection, I headed back to the wharf in time to join in the obligatory minor scuffle at the ticket counter. Either I’ve gotten much better at maneuvering this crowd, or people have started to give me space because I’m a palagi; I’m not sure which, but I’ve been getting through that madness a lot faster lately.

When I boarded the boat, I first went for a seat in the air-conditioned cabin, but the pre-dawn air was already cold, and the air conditioning was freezing. So I headed upstairs to the observation deck, where I found Supy. He was headed into town to see the Medical Officer.

We chatted for a bit and watched the sun rise. The girl down the row from me ended up sleeping on the floor, covering herself with an ’ie.

There was more pandemonium getting off the boat, but somehow Supy and I both got seats on one of the buses headed for Apia.

Me and Supy.

A bleary (blurry) sun rises on the horizon just north of Upolu.

What Do We Say Always Comes First?

Breakfast this morning was a little awkward. Dustin and I sat across from a German couple who spoke almost no English, so we wound up talking to the English speakers to our left while the Germans spoke to the Turkish couple to their left. As strange as it was, it felt a little like a literal International House of Panekeke. And though the meals aren’t served “family style,” eating at a long table with a bunch of people—even though most of those people are strangers—makes everyone feel like family.

During my family’s visit to Hawai’i earlier this month, we hit up Germaine’s Luau, where they set “family” as a focal point—not in the sense of “good, wholesome entertainment” but more like “we are all on this bus together and therefore we’re family”. It’s certainly fun. The bus leader referred to himself as “Cousin” and I swear the guy used the actual word “family” 400+ times during our 40 minute bus ride. It was nice, but not completely authentic. Tanu Beach Fales, on the other hand, is the kind of place that makes you feel guilty for not calling enough.

Tanu Beach Fales in the village of Manase on Savai’i is slightly less overt. They highlight the fact they’re a family-run business during the after-dinner Samoan Culture Show, but by then you’ve already been immersed in the Tanu family.

Samoan children litter the compound, playing games or running feaus or napping out in the open. Adults sit in family’s open fale talking, eating, cooking, barking orders at children, etc. There’s a palagi who works the reception desk; I’m not clear how he’s specifically related, but I’m sure he is somehow. How could he not be?

The after-dinner show showcases children, adults, and seniors alike. Suddenly the girl who brought an extra mattress to our fale and poured our tea at breakfast performs a siva Samoa in full traditional regalia. This morning the kid who did the siva afi, the fire dance, last night was walking around with a circle saw helping his cousins (brothers?) construct the floor of a new fale.

It inevitably makes you wonder what it would be like if your family ran a beach fale resort by day and performed a show at night. It would be like the Swiss Family Robinson and the Partridge Family merged and ran a hotel.

In any case, this atmosphere makes you feel like less of a “customer” and more of a “guest”. This morning Dustin and I walked to the front desk to ask when the bus for Salelologa would come. The guy behind the desk, not the palagi, was the emcee for last night’s show, with whom I’ve never spoken.

“Hey Matthew,” he called out as I approached. “You know anyone here named Niko?” I have no idea how he knew my name, but his tone was so casual I might as well have been a Tanu myself.

And I must say being a Tanu looks like it would be pretty fun. As long as I don’t have to do the fire dance.

I hope you’re well.  Picture below.

Dustin at dinner at Tanu Beach Fales.

Fire Dance during the culture show.

Dustin swimming.

These 2 dust devils showed up just off the coast about an hour before we headed out.

Come On, Supy

This weekend marked my first visit to Supy’s house. We moved into our houses 16.5 months ago, and there are still a handful of group 81 houses I have yet to visit. But Supy’s finally been checked off that list. The one time I visited Supy’s village before this weekend was when my mom and dad visited a year ago, and we went to swim in Supy’s village’s waterfall—while Supy was in Fiji. But now I’ve finally seen the kid in his natural habitat.

First a few words on Supy: everyone loves him. He’s laid back and incredibly social and ridiculously nice. And because of this, it takes twice as long for him to get anywhere because he has to stop and chat with everyone he runs into along the way. This can grow tedious if he’s in your travelling party, but on the whole, Supy is great. But it’s important you understand Supy is everyone’s friend. In fact, even if you’ve never met the kid, rest assured you’re his friend too.

On its own, the Peace Corps lifestyle is based on forging relationships with the people in your village, and most volunteers become village celebrities the day they move in. But Supy is so perfect for this role, he brings things to a new level.

When I first got off the bus and approached the school gate, a man came out of the neighboring house to inquire about who I was and what I was doing there. Supy came out promptly, resolved the situation, made a couple dirty jokes, asked about the car the guy was working on, gave a summary of our plan for the evening, made more jokes, asked about the guy’s wife and kids, briefly remarked on the recent issues he’s had with his plumbing, observed a passing pig, threw in a couple more jokes, and then finally wished the man a pleasant evening. It probably lasted 10 minutes, and I was exhausted by the end. I should add that Supys sees this guy all the time. This wasn’t a conversation after a long absence or “catching up”; this was a routine, everyday. Personally I tend toward briefer, more reserved interactions, but Supy chats.

In fact, while I was there he had similar conversations with his pule, the lady down the street, her sister (separately), the lady who runs the faleoloa, the lady shopping at the faleoloa (also separately), the matai who collects admission at the waterfall, and countless students and soles.

The effect is he comes across as having all the time in the world to chat with whomever, and he is thus beloved by everyone. And this is not limited to his village. Walking with him around Salelologa, the main city on Savai’i, I felt like part of a celebrity entourage. Pedestrians waved, people shouted from cars, all the shopkeepers know his name. After a bunch of random kids walked by and waved and called his name while a bunch of us sat a ways back from the road drinking niu, K8 observed, “Supy’s pretty much the Blakey of Savai’i.” Well put.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

Jordan's silhouette Saturday morning.

Supy's shower. The spigot is high enough Supy has to stand on the chair to turn on the water.

Koa and Paul at yesterday's Cinco de Mayo celebration.

Phil and Joey 81.

Trojan getting off the boat Friday afternoon.

All the Way Home

I took a flight from San Francisco to Geneva once. That was a long way. I flew from Los Angeles to Rio de Janeiro. I think that might be a longer distance; I’ll have to Google that. My point is in the grand scheme of things, today’s entire trip was a relatively short distance. But with the exception of my New Years Eve trip to Falealupo, today’s trip back to Apia from Manase was my longest one-day journey in country, point-to-point.

One other thing that sets today’s trip apart from that NYE trip: a bunch of us went in on a taxi for the longest leg of that trip. Our trek today comprised wholly of public transportation. That’s a little more of a headache.

The day started at Tanu Beach Fales where we had complimentary breakfast and I took a brief swim since the tide was in. Luisa and I had our bags packed and our fale cleaned by 9:45 since we’d been told the bus would come through the village to pick us up at 10. I was told over the phone when I made the reservation, we were told yesterday when we checked in, we were told this morning when we checked out. 10 a.m., 10 a.m., 10 a.m.

The bus came at 11:30.

It was cool though. The family that owns Tanu is very nice, and when the bus finally did show up, there were plenty of open seats. We sat in the bench at the back and we were off.

Though Los Angeles is a bigger city with a wilder reputation, I find drivers in the San Francisco Bay Area drive a lot faster on average. This same juxtaposition seems to be true of Upolu and Savai’i: despite being the quieter, more laid back island, drivers on Savai’i haul ass. It took us an hour to get to Salelologa. On an Upoluan (Upolutian?) bus, the same distance would have taken twice as long. No exaggeration.

We got food at a hotel in Salelologa, and then walked to the wharf where most passengers had already boarded the ferry. With the new boat in and out of commission, the boat schedule has been all over the place. Today, the (old) little boat was not running so there was an extra large crowd on the (old) big boat. The air conditioners were off, and by the time we got on, there were very few seats left. Luisa squeezed in to a bench. I sat on the floor.

At first this arrangement wasn’t ideal, but I got sleepy and laid down in the aisle and took a nap. And it was awesome.

Getting off the boat is a crucial point in any journey given the scarcity of bus seats back to Apia. I have no idea why they send 3 tiny buses for a boat carrying >400 people. I try not to use the blog to complain, but the whole pasiovaa arrangement is absurd. Cramming that many people on to that few buses makes no sense in terms of safety, comfort, business, or efficiency. I don’t expect things to be overly accommodating or hoity-toity, but surely someone could scrounge up one more bus? Particularly on Sundays when only one boat is running and there’s bound to be hoards of people? It’s about the same as when there would be one Muni bus waiting after a San Francisco Giants game.

As you can probably surmise, the bus back to Apia was not fun. By the time we got on, there was standing room only, and we were near the front. Looking out the window, there were still at least 20 people waiting to get on. Luisa ended up riding on a random lady’s lap. I had to contort my legs and arms to fit into a tiny space in the aisle.

In the end, we made it back to Apia about 6 hours after we left Manase. On the whole, this was good time. Especially considering we got to eat lunch. But I’m still ready to take a break from buses for a while.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

Phil and Luisa on the rocks out in back of his house.

I finally got to use the underwater camera bag this weekend.

Coral at Manase.

You can always tell a Milford Man.

Satellite

Due to circumst- ances not worth discussing here, the satellite Peace Corps office in Salelologa, Savai’i is expected to close sometime this Summer. But for now, it’s open in all of its convenient glory. Centrally located, it provides a small haven of air conditioning and dial-up Internet, and so after lunch Friday, Luisa and I headed over to kill a little bit of time while we waited for the school day to end so we could head to Phil’s house.

Opening the door to the satellite office involves a code and specific procedures, and for whatever reason, the mnemonic I use to remember this process ensures I remember incorrectly. I always think I remember the code, and I never do. Luckily, Dan 81 was already at the office, and he was able to open the door for us.

Dan was headed to Apia for the weekend to re-up on groceries and supplies. He noted how rare of a trip this was, and emphasized his embrace of the rugged Savai’ian lifestyle. “Up until yesterday, I hadn’t worn sandals in a week and a half,” he reported. “I’ve been wearing running shoes to work out, but other than that, I’ve been going around barefoot.”

He told a story about asking his boys which color Jandals he should buy. “They didn’t like blue, black, or green,” he said. “One kid said red was seki a, but then I asked another kid about yellow and he called it ‘gangsta.’ And then I knew I’d get yellow.”

After more conversation, Dan left to swim at Lusia’s. About 2 minutes after he walked out the door, Paul 81 walked in. He was headed out on the same boat.

“How’s school?” he asked. “How many students do you have this year?”

I told him my load this year is much lighter than the insanity of last year. Paul, who was also overloaded last year, looked a little sullen. “My schedule is as busy as it was last year.”

We talked shop for a while, comparing notes on disciplinary measures and classroom management, grading papers and issuing partial credit, correcting student’s English and maneuvering relationships with staff. We agreed that treating students as subordinates and sending them on feaus, errands and favors, has been useful in establishing our roles as authority figures deserving of respect.

Somewhere in there, Elisa came in and used the Internet. She was happy because the main office had sent word her guitar arrived in the mail.

Briony showed up. After a week on Savai’i working with the Ministry of Fisheries, she was headed back on the same boat as the others.

By then, it was time for the boat people to roll out and Luisa and me to catch a bus to Phil’s.

Nothing incredible happened, but it was nice to have a place to come together. It’ll be a shame to see the office go.

I hope you’re well. Pictures from the satellite office computer below.

Lili 82, Rachel 82, and Nate the Kiva volunteer.

Halle, who is an American studying abroad at the University of the South Pacific.

Boat and Photos

Scout and I are back in Apia. Despite waiting 2 hours for a bus that never showed and a taxi driver who took his sweet time picking us up, we made the boat with seconds to spare. In addition to carrying people across the isthmus, the boat also ferries cars. Usually the cars are loaded on after the people are already on board, but today I had to walk the narrow paths between cars, cat in box in hand, up to the front of the boat, where I realized the doors to the upper levels—where most passengers ride—were locked.

So I sat with the cars and a handful of passengers who were staying down there by choice. The car compartment has no windows, so it was a strange way to ride a boat. I hear some people prefer to ride on the bottom because being low and near the center of the boat is a good way to avoid seasickness. I, on the other hand, like to look out and the horizon and watch it move with the listing of the boat. Not an option today.

But after a while I took out my book and wiled away the time. And now we’re back in Apia.

I figure I’ll keep today’s post short so I can catch you up on pictures from the past couple days.

I hope you’re well. Enjoy.

This is the inside of the air-conditioned cabin of the new boat. It's got seats, not benches, and passengers are not allowed to lay in the aisles contrary to the common practice on the other boats.

Blakey and the cat (inside her box) on the new boat Thursday morning.

The upper level of the new boat is outside (and therefore not air-conditioned), but it does have a translucent roof, and laying in the aisles is allowed up here.

The air-conditioned level has a canteen/snack bar where they sell saimini and tea and coffee among other things.

Also, there's a lady who walks around selling coffee. It costs $2.

Both levels allow passengers to sit outside and watch water go by.

The northern coast of Upolu as seen from the new boat.

I don't remember this from last year, but I guess that's because I spent Good Friday in Apia last year. Apparently it's fairly common to construct a cross and put it in the middle of your front yard on Good Friday. It's a little like hanging your American flag on Memorial Day or something like that, I guess. Although the cross makes it look like you're going to have a ritual crucifixion, which is kinda weird.

Phil, Blakey, and I sat down to play cards, and the cat wandered in and sat down directly opposite me, as though she wanted to be my partner in Bridge. It was funny.

I don't have much to say about this picture. I like the storefront.

Phil and Blakey eating lunch at Lusia's on Friday.

I like this picture, so I'm posting it twice. Doesn't it sort of look like a more tropical version of that popular Pink Floyd poster? Left to right: Slovenian tourist whose name escapes me, Leah 82, Dan 81, A.J. 81.

Comfortable

Savaii and I have had a rough relationship. It all started with my second visit during which my iPod and camera were stolen from Phil’s house. They were recovered a month later, but the experience left a nasty taste in my mouth. Later I lost my camera during at our cinco de mayo celebration, and shortly after that, my parents and I had an unfortunate run-in with a taxi driver. Given all this, and the fact I dropped my camera in the ocean yesterday, it’s a little surprising how smooth and easy-going this weekend has been.

Okay, the trip over was a little stressful—mostly because of the cat. Things the cat likes: string, chasing the laser beam, expensive cat food. Things the cat doesn’t like: being cooped up in a sweltering cardboard box for six hours. Blakey and I thoroughly enjoyed the new boat in all of its pristine glory; the cat tolerated the trip, only because of the air conditioning. The second we stepped into Savai’i’s humid heat, the cat got really really cranky. She was pissy for the rest of Thursday.

Other than that, this trip’s been the relaxing holiday for which I’d hoped. Early in the week, word went around about staying at Aganoa Beach Fales on the south side of the big island. Financially and logistically, this didn’t appeal to me, and it turned out Blakey and Phil felt the same. Besides, a bunch of us got together at Lusia’s last night—a much more accessible venue, so it’s not like we’re being completely antisocial.

We needed to be at Lusia’s yesterday sometime between noon and 4:00 p.m. That kind of window allows for a lackadaisical outlook to the day. No rush. We’ll get there when we get there. Even though life in the Peace Corps is markedly slower than life in America, it’s still rare for a day to be so relaxed and unencumbered.

Today has been even slower. We all woke up mid-morning, and given the heat, we decided to play cards for a while outside in the faleo’o behind Phil’s house. Blakey was picked by one of her Apian friends, and Phil and I along with Trent 80 decided to head into town to get lunch.

We ate at a small restaurant in Salelologa right on the ocean, Le Waterfront, which has good, reasonably priced portions. It a beautiful spot. Too bad I threw my camera in the ocean.

In any case, the general success of this weekend seems to stem from the fact that we’ve been here long enough we’re much more in control of the way we spend our day. Or perhaps we’re better at discerning between what we can control and what we can’t, and maneuvering the system accordingly.

In that sense, the Peace Corps’s policy of having volunteers stay for 2 years makes sense. As much as I feel like I’ve been drowning in work lately, I feel like I’ve also learned to maneuver that system more capably.

We’ve hit our stride. Maybe between now and December is when the magic happens?

I hope you’re well. Pictures tomorrow.

Which Boat?

For whatever reason, heaps of people in Apia and its surrounding areas have family in Savai’i. Or were born there or grew up there or still stay there on weekends. Thus Friday boats are more crowded than those during the week, and like most airports in The States around Thanksgiving, the boats get insanely crowded during the holidays in December and in the lead up to Aso Maliu, Good Friday. In fact, most schools in the country have Thursday off so students can get home.

I have decided to spend the weekend in Savai’i this year, and sometime late last week I started weighing my options to decide when to leave and which boat to take. Monday’s going to be hellish, there’s no way around that, but being smart about things should yield a comfortable trip going out, at least.

In the past there would have been two options: leaving Wednesday afternoon or leaving Thursday morning. But right now, there is a third option in the mix. The Samoa Port Authority recently received a third ferry from the Japanese. This ferry, in a stroke of genius, leaves from Apia Harbour, not from the wharf an hour’s drive outside of Apia.

Oh, and one more complication: Scout’s coming. I’m bringing the cat along with me, which means lugging around a bulky box and having other passengers stare at me.

Here is how things break out:

Wednesday Afternoon Boat
Pros: Time-wise, farthest away from Friday rush. Also allows for most time away from home.
Cons: The 4 o’clock boat is always a bit of a zoo. Also, since today is the last day of school for most students, they’re all out, and it’s conceivable many headed straight to the boat. Oh yeah, and I’d have to pay the $3.20 bus fare to get to the wharf.
Bottom line: Too much of a rush. Also, I’m writing this post on Wednesday afternoon. A little late.

Thursday Boat: Wharf
Pros: Likely to be least crowded option, particularly if I was to leave in the morning. Every boat tomorrow will still be pretty crowded though.
Cons: I’d have to leave at 6:00 a.m. to make the big boat at 8:00. Also, bus fare.
Bottom line: A good fallback.

Thursday Boat: Apia
Pros: No bus fare. I can walk to the dock from my house. Also, did I mention the new ferry has a much larger seating capacity than the other 2 ferries? Also, I haven’t taken this brand new ferry yet, and it sound pretty exciting.
Cons: This one also leaves at 8:00 a.m., which means I’ll have to get there pretty early. Since it’s the last boat from Apia before the weekend (Port Authority’s closed for Good Friday and Easter), it will also be crowded.
Bottom Line: It makes the most sense, so long as I can get a seat.

So it looks like I’m going from Apia tomorrow morning. The final complication: though students aren’t coming tomorrow, it’s considered a staff work day. My pule said it’s cool if I miss since I’m heading to Savai’i, but my staff has opted to meet up at the seawall at 6:00 a.m. to do a 2-mile walk. Anyone who doesn’t show up by 6 will have to buy lunch for everyone else on Tuesday. Since it’s early enough that I can make it, I think I’m obligated to show up.

So here’s the plan. They’re meeting up at Seafood Gourmet, which is pretty close to the dock. I’ll show up, show my face, and they’ll take off one way, and I’ll go the other way.

Also, I’ll be carrying my cat. In a box.

Wish you were here! Pictures will be uploaded later.

The parade for the Manu Samoa, fresh off their victory at the Hong Kong 7s Tournament, was this afternoon.

Parade.

More parade.

Kids from the junior league.

They never shut down the other side of the street. We had oncoming traffic the whole time.

R and R

Toward the end there, RPCV Sara talked a lot about how she wished she and Cale had been assigned to a more rural site where they could have immersed themselves in the community more. Group 82 left for their sites last week, and as I heard about the places they were being sent, I also felt slightly jealous. PCV Kyle is being sent to the most unreachable part of Upolu. PCV Dana is going to join Spencer and Jenny at the westernmost point in Samoa, and technically, the westernmost point in the world. But then I realized one of the great things about the Peace Corps is once a volunteer is living in a certain place—and assuming all is good between you and that volunteer and its acceptable gender-wise by village standards—you can go and sleep there for free.

With school out and the weather in Apia hot as sin and my growing boredom with my own house, I’ve set out across the strait to visit Phil on Savai’i. I had a couple errands to run in Apia this morning, but I caught the 10 a.m. pasiovaa and the noon ferry and the right bus and now here I am at Phil’s.

Usually trips to Savai’i are rushed for a couple reasons. First, during most of the year, school is in session, and there’s a pressing need to come on the last boat on Friday, and leave early enough to be back on campus Monday morning. Second, there’s an unofficial weekly gathering of Peace Corps in Savai’i’s main city, Salelologa, and it’s difficult to avoid the social obligation. But I’ve arrived on Monday afternoon, and there’s not really a big rush to do anything or be anywhere, and so far the trip has been quite leisure.

Phil’s house sits on a little cove, and sitting around this afternoon, I asked if we could go swimming. “Yeah,” said Phil. Phil got the snorkels out while I found the sun screen in my backpack, and 10 minutes after deciding to swim, we were wading into the ocean in Phil’s backyard.

When I was assigned to the heart of Apia, I was very happy, but I admit I’ve always been a little jealous of Phil’s place. He’s got a scenic view of all 4 of Samoa’s major islands, and his house is far from the dirt and grime and crowds in Apia. But I didn’t even know the half of it. The coral reef in Phil’s backyard is breathtaking.

The current was strong enough today that from castoff up the shore to the swim back into Phil’s backyard took roughly 15 minutes. We did 2 rounds and saw many different types of fish and coral and anemones and stuff. I imagine it’s the kind of thing that might grow tedious after a while, but I feel like living here I’d be out there whenever the tide allowed.

Afterwards we hiked up to the grocery store to pick up supplies for dinner, only to have Phil’s pule cover over and drop off barbecue.

Overall, the day has been great and very un-Apia.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

The new open-air market in Salelologa.

We played Jenga tonight.

Jenga soon devolved into strange impromptu offshoot variations like this one here. This version was a tangible mix of Battleship and Jenga. I built 4 towers out of 50 Jenga blocks, and Phil blindly threw 4 Jenga blocks at my towers. I then got as many points as the height of my tallest tower left standing.

Night Terrors

Since I have no TV, I’m constantly afraid of running out of stuff to watch, so I tend to ration my TV viewing. But last night, Phil and I splurged. We watched one episode each of “It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,” “Rome,” “Mad Men,” and “Eastbound and Down”. We set Phil’s laptop on his kitchen table and watched while we sat in plastic dining chairs. Not too far into “It’s Always Sunny…”, I shut of the lights, and almost immediately termites started landing on the screen of the laptop. Phil remedied the situation by turning on the light in the bathroom, to which the termites swarmed; however, the mosquitoes refused to relent.

When the 3-hour TV marathon concluded, cleaned up and started to get ready for bed, and Phil found the source of the mosquitoes: the backdoor to Phil’s house was open the entire time. Like the ones at my house, Phil’s screen doors are not completely sealed, and when the lights in the house are on and the door isn’t completely shut, unwanted guests invite themselves in.

Not too long after that, we settled into bed, Phil in his bedroom and me on the living room floor. Against Phil’s advice and my own better judgment, I didn’t light a mosquito coil. Mosquito coils are flat, cardboard-like discs that, when lit with fire, burn slowly and emit mosquito-repelling smoke. I neglected to light one last night instead relying on the electrical fan to create a draft strong enough to deter the pests.

The fan didn’t work. Within 10 minutes of laying down for the night, I had 3 huge bites on my right wrist and one to match on my left. At that point, I realized my folly and put on a t-shirt, covered up with an ’ie, and went so far as to spray insect repellent on my forearms.

Mosquitoes are crafty little bloodsuckers, and they will exploit whatever gap in security they can find. For me last night, it was my feet. An ’ie is roughly 2 yards of fabric, which isn’t enough to be an effective bed sheet. My feet inevitably exposed themselves during the night, and sometime around 3:00 or 4:00 a.m., I woke up to a throbbing itch on the bottom of my left foot.

I don’t know whether it’s the rude awakening or the depth of the mosquitoes’ puncture or the chemical makeup of the venom, but fresh bites in the middle of the night seem to ache more than they itch. In fact, the throbbing and the aching seem to exacerbate one another. I often feel that if it was just the pain or just the itch, my brain could adjust to the discomfort and move on. But the two in combination are too much for my brain to ignore. But when I’m faced with 3:00 a.m. mosquito bites, I still try in vain to distract my mind from the pain. Sleep! Sleep! I try and will myself.

The strangest part of all this is how my body has developed an immunity to the venom. By the time I woke up this morning, there was no trace of any bites on either of my wrists nor my foot. The pain and the itch are gone, and all the overnight bleary-eyed trauma feels like nothing more than an extremely unpleasant dream.

But it’s early tonight, and I’m already feeling sleepy on account of all the waking up in the middle of the night last night. Sleep deprivation is now the most lasting mosquito-caused malady.

I should have used a coil.

I this weekend has left you well-rested. Pictures below.

Phil and AJ.

The GoMobile Store in Salelologa on Saturday.

The Bus to Salelologa

Phil, AJ, and I woke up groggy this morning. AJ played games on his cell phone, I read a book, and Phil slept late. We took turns taking showers, and enjoyed a breakfast of “Magic Shapes,” a generic version of “Lucky Charms.” None of us felt any sense of urgency about doing much of anything, but eventually it was decided we should head into Salelologa, the largest city on Savai’i where the satellite Peace Corps office is. So around 11:00 a.m., we walked out to the road and waited for the bus.

There is no hard and fast bus schedule in Samoa. The buses run back and forth during certain hours of the day, and if you live somewhere fairly close to town like Phil does, it doesn’t take long for a bus to show up. A bus drove by as we were walking through the gate of Phil’s school, which was poor timing. When it’s unclear when the next bus is coming, it’s lousy to miss one. A bus in hand is worth two in the bush.

We were in luck though: Phil barely had time to put his trash in the roadside receptacle before a bus from Puipa’a appeared at the top of the hill. AJ waved it down, and within 20 seconds of arriving at the road, we were climbing on a bus.

The bus was mostly empty when we boarded. There were a sprinkling of passengers, but we were all able to get an entire seat to ourselves. Phil pointed out that bus rides like this are his favourite: the bus is empty, and it wasn’t a popular time to go into town so the driver made few stops along the route into town. The public transportation system in Samoa is nothing like any in The States, but I remember thinking the same thing about Saturday Muni rides into downtown San Francisco.

A bus ride on a Samoan bus can overwhelm the senses: the bus’s lack of shocks, the rigidity of the wooden seats, the bright colours, the smell of gasoline and sweat and barbecue, the temperature change—i.e. hot as hell when the bus is stationary, cool and windy when the bus is moving. And then there’s the music.

Magik 98.1 tends to be at the center of popular music in Samoa, but its reach isn’t as wide as the bus system. Most buses are outfitted with blaring sound systems and CD players, and drivers often swap CDs when they congregate at bus hubs in Apia or Salelologa. This system is amazingly efficient and viral. I’m unclear on how CDs are duplicated, but certain songs have a tendency to spread like wildfire. Currently en vogue is a Samoan artist whose name I don’t know, but his songs are everywhere. Googling his lyrics yields no results. I’ll get back to you.

In addition to popular music, a Saturday morning bus ride gives a constant stream of glimpses into the lives of Samoans who live along the road. There was a basketball game in Fogapoa, competing barbecue sales in Fusi, and a funeral in Sapapalii.

We rolled into Salelologa after a quick ride, and that was that. The ride was uneventful, but no bus ride in Samoa is ever ordinary.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

Boy selling taro in the shadow of a breadfruit tree.

Church in Salelavalu

Phil and AJ in silhouette with guy outside store in the background.

Liz and Briony.