Christmas in August

I left my house twice today. I couldn’t find the motivation to put on a shirt before I took out the garbage this morning, which resulted in a tongue-in-cheek “Seki ā lou tino,” sweet body, from one of the boys who lives on campus. Then later on this evening after my propane stove ran out of propane, I walked up the mountain to purchase a chicken salad wrap from one of the nearby pizza places. Yes, when it rains on a Sunday, it’s hard to find any reason to go anywhere. I made some phone calls and talked to people back home, and that was nice. But I think the highlight of my day was Northern Exposure, season 3 episode 10: an episode entitled “Seoul Mates”.

From the DVD’s description of the episode:

Cicely townsfolk await the pageant of the raven, the town’s annual Christmas rite, and this means a first ever Christmas tree for Joel, unexpected time alone for Maggie, a nostalgia for past holidays for Shelly, and a new family for Maurice.

This particular episode won an Emmy for outstanding writing in a drama series, so it’s got qualified brilliance, but I think it hit me on more of a gut level this afternoon.

I miss American Christmas. Don’t get me wrong: experiencing Christmas here in Samoa has been educational, and I’ve had some enjoyable times, but it’s hard for it to feel festive amid the tropical heat.

I also feel like my Christmas experiences here have either been either too heavy on the Jesus (e.g. laying it on thick at midnight mass) or too heavy on the secular (e.g. radio mixes mashing “Feliz Navidad” with the Black-Eyed Peas’ “My Humps”). Is there no middle ground?

Also, since Thanksgiving isn’t a thing here, and Halloween isn’t much either, there’s no official start to the Holiday Season. It’s like sometime around September, someone fishes out their copy of the Mariah Carey Christmas Album, and just thing like that, things have begun.

I won’t bore you with my reverence for Northern Exposure, but I will say that this afternoon’s episode captures all the best parts of the American holiday season: the cold, the pluralism, the music, the fun. But it also has that overarching Peace-Corps-like tone with the stranger-in-a-strange-land premise and the relative isolation. In short, it made me look forward to being back in America for Christmas this year.

I’m still queasy about my return home in a few months, and anyone who knows me knows I detest starting the Holiday season too early. But I guess I just felt a warm wash of anticipation this afternoon. The malls, the cold, the red cups at Starbucks, the Drifter’s version of “White Christmas”. It’s going to be a good time.

Yeah. So that was my Sunday.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

Treme

Perspective is a funny thing. Last night someone brought up a scene from an early episode of “Curb Your Enthusiasm” in which a Holocaust survivor and a contestant from the television show “Survivor” argue over who had the more difficult experience. It’s dark and absurd and arguably tasteless, but it provides an extreme example of the way we look at life through the lens of our own experiences. I watched the first 2 episodes of David Simon’s “Treme” this afternoon, and I think Peace Corps life dulled some of the show’s more shocking elements.

The show is set in New Orleans three months after Hurricane Katrina hit, and it follows an array of characters that face, in addition to the normal obstacles of life, the challenges inherent in living in a post-disaster city. I followed the news back in 2005 when Katrina hit, but with characters and a narrative the whole the show lends an intimacy to the disaster.

Many of the show’s images are devastating: a man comes home to find his living room floor caked in mud, a musician who didn’t move his instruments to the second floor before he evacuated, entire communities in darkness. The show doesn’t wallow in all of this, but the horror and the difficulty of life provide a backdrop. I feel like the difficulty of my life here in Samoa, to which I’ve grown accustomed, lowered the shock value.

Early in the first episode a man frets over taking a cold shower because he lost his water heater in The Storm. New Orleans is surely colder than Apia, and I wouldn’t want to trade places with the guy, but I’ve done that cold shower dance lots and lots of times since I moved into my house.

Also, the mud on the living room floor didn’t feel too far off from my life here. I admit my floor isn’t caked in an inch or two of mud, but I do have piles of dirt the ants build along many of my walls. There’s a dead millipede in the corner, lizard feces under the window, and ant piles along the floorboards. And I swept this morning! My house has four walls and a roof, but life here still feels a little like camping.

I don’t want to sound insensitive. Coming to a developing country for a finite amount of time is very different from having your entire life taken away by a natural disaster. The devastation is difficult to stomach, and my heart goes out to the people of New Orleans. I can’t imagine what it feels like to have your hometown, your possessions, your livelihood, your community washed away.

I’m just saying certain aspects of life in the developing world seem similar to those in the re-developing world.

At one point a man walks down the street and drinks from a can. For a moment my mind was transfixed by the obvious faux pas, but then I realized the show is set in New Orleans, not Samoa.

In any case, it’s a really good show. You should watch it.

I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

I ran into Dana and Matt (both 82s) tonight on my walk home from the grocery store. They are in town to help Erica 80 with a soccer clinic.

Jordan 81.

I'm a Survivor

The United States Chargés d’Affairs invited Americans to the embassy last night for a Survivor premiere party. Survivor Samoa premiered in The States last week, but it probably won’t show on either of the TV stations here for a while. And though we won’t be able to watch the rest of the season, who’s not down for a castaway-themed party? So the Apia volunteers met up and headed over.

I thought the castaway theme was funny. The Peace Corps lifestyle is rough on clothing, and my joke was that since castaway costumes were optional, I could either wear something from my closet or I could wear something from my closet. Another volunteer had holes in the shorts and t-shirt he wore today, and leaving his house he looked down and thought people might think he’d showed up in costume.

I haven’t been to the embassy since the election last November, and a visit there is always a regal experience. There are all kinds of posters and pictures on the walls touting the greatness of America. The bathroom is fancy. There are cubicle walls and cable TV. All of these things that seemed so menial are now posh.

The food was great. In addition to the Chex Mix, which was fantastic, there were deep-fried mussels and breaded fish and samosas and tropical fruit.

And then it was time for the main event. I watched the first 2 seasons of Survivor, and I remember how much of a media event the final episode of Season 1 was in which Richard and Kelly went head-to-head in the final Tribal Council. “On this island there are snakes and there are rats,” was a moment to remember. But none of that compares to watching Survivor Samoa in Samoa with a bunch of Samoans. Last night was surreal.

Though shots of Samoa tended to be quick glimpses strung together into quick montages, and it was difficult to recognize any actual place, I started calling out, “Been there! Been there! Been there! Been there!”

News of Jeff Probst’s recent Emmy win had spread, and expectations were high. I imagine if the season aired after I return to The States, I would be nit picky about things and it would annoy everybody else because no one would care about the minutia of my complaints. But watching here with a room full of people who collectively cringed at Jeff Probst’s butchering of the Samoan language was satisfying.

As far as the actual contestants go, I have 2 thoughts. First, America should not export reality television. It flies in the face of the rosy portrait of respect we strive for. On the other hand, my second thought is there are ridiculous parallels between the show’s premise and the Peace Corps experience. In their first moments on the island they look haggard and appear to be in shock. They immediately establish an internal pecking order. Alliances are formed and broken and formed again. And someone gets a million dollars at the end.

Finally, the best part of the show might be the middle-aged mulleted female ex-marine who calls herself “Shambo”. We could certainly use a Shambo within our ranks. Come on, group 82.

Pictures below.
















Erik, Blakey, and Cale.
















Briony and Erik.
















The crowd watching the TV.
















These people are American tourists who just happened to be in town.

Part One

Even though today is the first day of May, last night was May Sweeps in my house. Season 1 of Weeds has 10 episodes and Season 2 has 12, and the first season of The West Wing has 22. The planets aligned last night and I watched the season finales of both shows, each ending in a cliffhanger. The time was appropriate since the plan is to head to Savai’i this afternoon, and I won’t be able to tune into Weeds again until Sunday. So now I have two days to process all the questions I have about Nancy Botwin. I don’t think anyone on the island has Season 2 of The West Wing though, so I’m not sure what the plan is there.

Last night’s suspenseful endings added stress to what is already rising tension in my life. I was just settling in to correct the short answer section of my year 11 tests, when Dan called and asked if I’d be interested in dinner. I don’t see Dan too often, and I got through all of 11.4 yesterday afternoon, so I figured why not live a little?

I put down my red correcting pen and wandered down to Italiano Pizza and chatted with Dan and Erin. Dan, who lives on Savai’i is in town because the Methodist schools are organizing their midyear exams, which they administer in June. Erin, who teaches elementary school, is in the same boat as me with testing going on this week, and not much to do. Not much to do, save for the 126 tests I had sitting on my couch, feeling neglected.

Erik was also out last night with a bunch of New Zealand ex-pats, and he came and sat at our table when the rest of his party left. Dan and Erin left soon after Erik sat down, but I sat and chatted with Erik for another hour.

The thing with correcting the tests is I have so much more to do than that. My parents are coming in on Wednesday, and my house is a mess. I haven’t swept in at least a week, so the ant piles are growing to disturbing sizes. I haven’t washed dishes since Tuesday. I haven’t packed for Savai’i or gone to the ATM to get money for Savai’i, or called the Peace Corps to let them know I’m going to Savai’i for the evening.

But there I sat, shooting the breeze with Erik. He encouraged me to come and practice piano at his music school, which I think I will do. Things wound down, and we finally left. I got home around 10:00 p.m.

Plopping down on the couch, I picked up the 11.3 exams and slid Weeds Season 2 into the DVD player. I made some progress at the outset, but the episode inevitably became more involved, and my correcting pace slowed. There’s a commentary track on the season finale, so I watched that after I finished watching the episode. Then I popped in The West Wing. There’s a commentary on that one too, so I watched that after. And after 3 hours, I had only graded 27 out of 44 year 11.3 exams. I still had 38% of 11.3 left, and 82 more year 11 exams after that. I tried forcing myself to do more, but just picking up test after test became more and more repulsive.

I fell asleep on the couch, and woke up at 3:00 a.m., my fingers still curled around my red correcting pen. I moved myself to my bed. The tests smirking as I left the couch. They had defeated me.

Waking up this morning was difficult, and as I passed the exam out to my year 13s, they informed me that we have Culture Day practice after the exam. I still need to blog, pack, and be ready to go by 1:30 to make sure I can catch the bus at 2:00, which takes me to the last ferry of the day, which leaves at 4:00.

Will there be enough time to get everything done? Will I only give myself 2 minutes to pack? Will this post get posted? Will I make it to the ATM so I could pay my bus fare? Will the tests ever be graded? Will the floor ever be swept? Will I start practicing piano at Erik’s school more often?

Tune in tomorrow to find out. Pictures below.





















I felt like this moment captured my life here. Weeds on the laptop, the cinderblock shelf, the lizard crawling across the wall, the Weezer poster up top.
















Spaghetti sandwiches like this are extremely popular here.
















Also popular are these pies. They are yellow and have a mysterious yellow custard filling, the flavor of which is ambiguous.

Odds and Ends Thursday 5

At the Chargés-Affaires’ house last night, a bunch of us were comparing notes on the weather, and we all agreed that the last couple weeks have seemed hotter than usual. Erin attributed the perception of heat to a lack of wind. And you know what else flares up besides the heat when there’s no wind? The flies and mosquitoes. Much easier to fly and bite when you don’t have to worry about air currents. Here are some other odds and ends from the week:

• Do you ever find it strange the things your brain remembers? During dinner tonight, I heard just a few of the opening chords, and I knew right away that the song was “Just a Gigolo” by Louis Prima. It was one of those out-of-mind experiences where by brain did a double take on itself. I was more weirded out that proud. How did I know that? Why did I know that?
  
• The printer in my computer lab is out of toner. I have no idea when it will be refilled. This is difficult for me. I don’t print much, but when I do print, I completely take it for granted that I can print. We ran out of toner on Tuesday morning, and I’ve sat down to type something or allowed someone else to type something at least 7 or 8 times before I remember that there’s no use in typing it up because we can’t print.
  
• During bike safety training, we were warned that dogs are a constant hazard and that they will chase you on your bike, and they often will bite if they catch you. Joey told us about a strategy in which you slow down while the dog is chasing you, and then take off as fast as you can. The change in speed confuses the dog and it will give up . Joey’s strategy TOTALLY WORKS.
  
• At the concert tonight, the bluegrass band talked about how they were greeted at the airport by a band of Samoans playing strings, and they were blown away by the vocal harmonies. They witnessed those harmonies again when a high school student body sang for them yesterday. I need to get one of those mp3 recording devices so I can post a sample here. It’s amazing.
  
• My favorite Louis Prima is his version of “Jump, Jive, and Wail,” which was prominently featured in a Gap advertisement back in the late 1990s. It was the “Everybody in Khakis” campaign where they used that still-spin effect (later made more popular by The Matrix franchise) with acrobatic swing dancers. It was a fascinating ad campaign illustrated by the fact that I remember it 10 years after the fact.
  
• I’ve heard some horror stories about the computer skills of school secretaries in Samoa, but mine seems pretty fluent. I typed up a job application for the son of one of the teachers, and we had to have the secretary print it because the toner’s out in the lab. I felt like a bit of a jerk trying to walk her through the printing process. She knew exactly what she was doing.
  
• Okay, I admit I’ve only implemented Joey’s strategy going downhill, but still, it works ridiculously well. In fact, I got it to work with 2 separate sets of dogs (they travel in herds) within the course of about 20 seconds this evening. I hate to anthropomorphize, but I swear the dogs already looked shocked when I hit the brakes, as though to ask, “That’s it? We’re done?” And then I took off again, and they completely gave up. “Screw it.”
  
• I’m not talking about having the kids at my school practice their harmony for a recording. I’m talking about any given moment. I swear I’m not exaggerating that if you walked down the street and picked 2 random males and 2 random females, more often than not, the 4 would have gorgeous harmonics with absolutely no rehearsal.
  
• It was just before Gap switched gears slightly with the string of arguably iconic ads where Gen-Xers sang songs and looked apathetic. The 3 I remember were the “Dress You Up in My Love,” “Just Can’t Get Enough,” and “Mellow Yellow” ads. Perhaps I watched too much TV back then, but I was a teenage male—the key demographic—and Gap ads were ubiquitous in my TV habits.
  
• I can’t figure out how we can be out of toner. We’re only 2 months into the school year. But the fact that it actually has been quite an issue in the 3 days since we’ve run out of toner, it’s clear that we do a lot of printing. I’m going to start charging students when/if we ever get new toner: 10 sene per page if you print, 50 sene per page to make a photocopy.
  
• I admit the downhill worked well because gravity assists in the accelerating part of the trick. I am a bit nervous to try it on flat ground, but the only reason I haven’t tried it yet is because the situation hasn’t arisen.
  
• They were iconic enough that the water polo team did its own parody of the ads with “Everybody in Speedos.” That was gold. I still have the VHS somewhere.
  
• Happy birthday, Margarita!
  
• The bluegrass band played a Paul Simon cover tonight, “Gone at Last” from Still Crazy After All These Years. The guy introduced the song by saying, “Those of you who know Paul Simon know he’s awesome, and those of you who don’t know Paul Simon are awesome too because you have something great to look forward to.”
  

That’s all I got. Hope you’re awesome. Pictures below.
















The bluegrass band, Student Loan. In addition to the Paul Simon cover, they did 2 Beatles songs. It was good.
















Me and one of the year 13 students. I admit I don't know her name. It sounds like Tsetse, which would be a bad-ass name on account of the poisonous insects, but I don't think that's actually how she spells it.
















This was my favourite part of the day today, I think. Today was Sports Day, which meant that about half the school left to go play rugby or netball. The last 2 classes of the day were canceled for the students who stuck around. Someone set up the volleyball net, and teachers and students played pick-up games. It felt more like the casual educational environment of a university rather than the ultra-defined student/teacher roles of American secondary schools.

It's Like I'm There

For being cut off from Hollywood, there is still quite a bit of pop culture passed around among Peace Corps here in Samoa. Through DVDs, Divx, and mp3s, I’ve been able to acquire a fair amount of movies, TV shows, and music that I hope will compensate for the lack of TV in my house. And while I’m a little shocked at the sheer amount I’ve been able to stockpile, I still feel like a depression-surviving pack rat, rationing my intake of pop culture to assure that what I have will last.

First, let me say that my jury is still out on getting a TV. While Samoa only has 2 TV channels, it would be nice to have a little bit of that weekly routine that I had in The States. The other thing I really like about TV, and which is actually accented by having only 2 channels, is that it’s fun to be able to watch as a community. I enjoyed going to work or school in The States and being able to talk about whatever was on TV the night before. As much as TV has come to control our lives, I think it’s an important part of culture, and I’m still contemplating buying one here.

That said, my strategy for rationing out the stuff I have is by watching one episode of “Arrested Development” and one episode of “The Wire” per night. I have watched both series in their entirety before, but they have a similar amount of episodes, and it’s been nice to start out with something old and familiar.

The weird thing though is that watching 1 episode per night is a bit unheard of in The States. I feel like most people watch 1 episode per week while a show is still being televised, or the show is released on DVD and people go on a binge watching several episodes a day until they finish a series.

This strange middle ground of watching one episode per day, particularly with shows like “Arrested Development” and “The Wire” that don’t rush to tell the story, means that I remove myself a bit from either show’s story arch. It feels less like a story is being told, and more like things are happening to the characters as they move through their lives. Since it’s one episode a day, you feel like you know the characters better than when you only see them once a week, but they seem more real than when you watch them for 3 or 4 hours in one day.

This is especially true watching from my couch, living in a surreal situation and a pop cultural vacuum. Sticking to 1 hour a day of “The Wire,” it starts to feel nearly as real as the rest of my day; or maybe what I mean to say is that joining the police force in Baltimore seems almost as conceivable as joining the Peace Corps in Samoa. An example of this is at the beginning of season 2 of “The Wire,” it’s winter in Baltimore, and seeing the characters in overcoats and gloves on a regular enough basis made me feel like I was there too, even though I’m living through my first tropical summer.

From a critical perspective, watching one episode a day heightens the senses. The tone and style are constant in my head, but there’s no information overload. I feel like I notice more about the characters and the way the story is told more so than the weekly or binge-style of TV digestion.

I noticed that I really underappreciated Wee-Bey during my first time through “The Wire.” And “Staff Infection” is one of the most underrated episodes of “Arrested Development.”

Finally, it’s a treat to watch either series. They are both extremely re-watchable in the sense that you get so much out of repeat viewing. On both shows, you can catch things that you didn’t notice before but enhance the story that much more.

But I also think the asceticism of pop culture here only serves to enhance what I watch.

I hope you’re enjoying TV and Movies. It’s my first Oscar season away from home, and it’s a little disorienting. Promotional pictures below.














McNulty confronts corner boys on "The Wire."





















Tobias's headshots from "Arrested Development."