Mid-Service Conference

At the airport with Chris, I ran into the latest member of Group 82 to leave. The trainee-turned-volunteer expressed feelings of futility and guilt, neither of which I could blame him for. Looking down the long end of two years feels daunting, and there are a host of emotions that go along with that feeling. But since I left for Group 81’s Mid-Service Conference directly from the airport, the interaction only accented the contrast between the new group, which has lost a total of 5 so far, and our group, which still boasts all 13 members.

It sounds cheesy, but at this point, it really does feel like we’re a big family with all the love and dysfunction that entails. As much as the event had the feeling of a corporate retreat with sessions like “Obstacles and Strategies to Circumvent Them” and “Challenges and Rewards,” it also felt a lot like a family reunion.

Samoa isn’t such a big place that I don’t see most of these people fairly often, but it’s rare that we are all gathered in one place at one time. And the ethos of the group has evolved as we’ve become more familiar with Samoa and with each other. Shyness and awkward conversation has given way to coziness and goofy banter.

Then again, we all fall back into the archetype we’ve each carved out for ourselves. Dan is loud and walks the thin line between obnoxiousness and brilliance. Blakey blithely and assertively sets the group’s agenda. Supy tromps around with his shirt off spreading cheekiness and ka’a wherever he goes.

But as I said in yesterday’s post, there’s a lot to do. Just as it’s daunting to look down the long end of two years, it’s nearly as daunting looking down the long end of one. We all expressed frustration over how to bring about any lasting change at our schools. And as much as we’re psyched about the new year, there’s a whole lot of cynicism left over from last year.

This cynicism was all too well symbolized in the tsunami destruction surrounding the hotel. Manenoa Beach Surf is nestled between Coconuts Resort and Sinalei Resort, both of which were hit very hard by September’s tsunami. Many of us knew people from Fausaga who worked at these resorts (none of whom were harmed or killed), and we had made trips out to see Samoa’s high-end accommodations. There is a devastating quality to the sticks and building skeletons, and it was difficult to not feel a wave of discouragement wash over as I walked through a bit of the rubble.

Yet in that same vein, the infernal sounds of construction emanated through our conference meetings. Workers showed up early in the morning, already hard at work on getting the hotels back up and running. So I guess the conference was all about persevering through the shortcomings of last year and building the future on a more solid foundation.


I hope you’re well. Pictures below.

Coconuts Resort.

Phil's host-sister Tafale works at Lupe's next to Manenoa Beach Surf.

Artistic footprints picture.

As you can tell by mine and Jordan's expressions, there were a few intense games of Sorry! last night.

Odds and Ends Early Service Conference

Between getting home Thursday, the VAC meeting on Friday afternoon, and taking off for New Zealand Friday night, the last couple days have been a whirlwind, and it’s nice to relax now. It’s been a lot of fun having group 81 around, and I’m a little bummed (but not that bummed) to be heading out of town. With so much going on, my days have had the feeling chaotic yet days have required rigid planning to ensure everything gets done on time. The week on the beach was restful and stressful. Here are some other odds and ends from VAC and Early Service Training:

• Today was Sara’s parents’ last day in town, so she asked me to take minutes at today’s Volunteer Advisory Committee meeting. I asked her for advice on taking minutes, and she told me, “Just write down what everyone says.” So I sat there in the corner of the room like a court reporter this afternoon. I typed out 9.5 pages. I definitely didn’t catch every word that was said, but I could paint a pretty good picture.
  
• I wish Early Service Training came after my trip to New Zealand. I feel like my Samoan language skills have a lot of momentum right now. Koa and I agreed that having our parents in town forced us to interact with Samoans a lot more, and that we got a lot of language practice out of that too.
  
• I’ve listened to the new Green Day album, 21st Century Breakdown, a lot since it came out last Friday. It’s very good, but I’m not sure I like it as much as American Idiot. I think it will take a while to come to a final decision. It’ll probably need at least a year to marinate, I think.
  
• We played Mafia on Monday and Tuesday night at Faofao. A number of people were drinking during the game, which only exacerbated the tension. Kind of awesome. Definitely uncomfortable at times.
  
• The movie “Angels and Demons” has been banned in Samoa because of its portrayal of the Catholic church. Maybe I’ll see it in New Zealand. I haven’t seen “The Da Vinci Code,” but I read the book. I haven’t read “Angels and Demons” though… and I do want to read the book before I see the movie.
  
• It sounds dumb to be all staunch about mindless Dan Brown fiction, but whatever. I want to read the book first. I’m thinking I could probably get through it in a day or 2, so maybe I’ll pick up the book AND see the movie in New Zealand. I don’t want to get too crazy though.
  
• The bug zapper Luisa’s parents sent is extremely effective, and I can’t help but find maniacal satisfaction when I hear the crackling and popping as little bugs of flight meet their end. It only takes about a half hour for most of the bugs in my house to get zapped. So nice.
  
• The guys on Savai’i speak Samoan really well now, or at least much better than the rest of us. Last night Supy, Dan, and Phil started an impromptu session of Samoan conversation that probably lasted an hour and a half. Paul came and joined them about halfway though. I had to sit by quietly, barely able to keep up, barely able to contribute to conversation.
  
• One of the language sessions was on Samoan superstitions. While the session was definitely amusing, it was also educational. I learned:
  
  
  • If a cats pupils are large, it means the tide is in;
    
  • If you whistle at night, a ghost might slap you in the mouth;
    
  • Chickens are afraid of owls, not only because owls eat chickens, but also because owls are ghosts.
  
  
• I kicked a piece of coral. It cut my second to last toe on my left foot. Might have to cut it off.
  
• Dan and I raced from one end of the beach to the other doing freestyle. Phil was there too, but Phil is half fish, so we don’t really include him in race results. Dan beat me. I suggested that we race back the other way doing butterfly. Dan suggested breaststroke. Breaststroke was my stroke back in the day, so I accepted the challenge. Shortly after this second race began, Dan stopped. He claimed it was because there was coral in the way. Yeah right, Dan. Yeah right.

That’s all I got for this week. Off to New Zealand tomorrow. I hope you’re well. Pictures below.
















Blakey and Supy.
















Dan.
















Phil.
















Paul.





















Jordan.
















Erin.
















Blakey and Kate.

Early Service Conference

Though things often seem nonchalant and haphazard here, it’s interesting how carefully calculated things actually are. When we first arrived in Samoa, we did not go straight to the host village; instead we lived in a hotel for 10 days. We were eased into the country in air-conditioned rooms, and if that wasn’t posh enough, we spent a day at the beach and a day on a chartered snorkeling excursion before we left for the host village. Though it was never overtly communicated to us, I felt it was a subtle reminder that we’ve been assigned to a beautiful place and there’s no way we can complain about the host village when we’d just spent 2 days playing in the ocean.

This weekend was much in that same vain. After spending 5 months at our job sites, group 81 came back together to spend 4 days and 3 nights on a gorgeous beach on the southern coast of Upolu. In addition to High Intensity Language Training, we also had lots of time devoted to sharing our experiences and venting our grievances. We arrived for lunch on Monday, and after spending an hour talking about the difficulties and frustrations of our jobs, a bunch of us went swimming… and then it clicked. Allotting lots of time for airing grievances and holding the event in a serene, idyllic venue was no coincidence at all. WE had been brought here to unwind and rejuvenate ourselves. And it seemed to work pretty well.

Truth be told, I never viewed this week as a conference or a work retreat. In my mind, this week was a free vacation on the beach with the old crew from training. And going into it, I was surprised to find others dreading the week./ But I think most of the group warmed to the beach and the tasty (free) food and the lax atmosphere pretty quickly.

The work-related sessions were a lot easier to digest than similar sessions we had during training because we now have a much better idea of our jobs and the challenges we face daily. And it was good to get a pulse check from everybody.

People’s situations are quite different. Some talked of weak or absent administrators while others complained about being supervised by micromanagers. Some had issues with resources and lousy computers. Others were overwhelmed b the number of students in their class load. All of these problems were things I’d heard a out from my friends who taught with me in Oakland, but here there’s the added cultural barrier that we all have in common. And even if we didn’t solve our problems, it was comforting to see 11 faces that could relate. It was also nice to hear about problems that are different than mine, if on;y so I could think to myself, “Thank goodness I don’t have to deal with that.”

The language sessions were also easier to handle after spending 5 months in varying levels of language immersion. It was easier to separate the skippable from the inimitable, and we all came in with specific questions regarding how to say certain things or the proper way to address situations we often face.

In fact, I think my favourite session of the week was the one entitled, “ Open Forum: Language and Culture questions.” It gave us the chance to voice areas of confusion (e.g. How do I decline a dinner invitation? How do I avoid being ripped off at the market? How much money do I give when I attend a funeral?), but more than that, it gave us the chance to embrace the thrill and difficulty and inherent humility involved in living and working in a foreign culture. It was the kind of deal where in the middle of the conversation it dawned on me how cool and rare such a conversation is; particularly in such a formal setting and with so many voices in the mix.

And then there was down time. Since there are no beaches in Apia and few opportunities to swim in the ocean, I took advantage of being near the sea at nearly every opportunity I got. But when we weren’t dodging coral together, we were huddled in conversations over tea, telling jokes and gossiping, as Peace Corps are wont to do.

The whole environment was so lax I didn’t wear a shirt from just after lunch on Monday until I finally put on one just after lunch this afternoon. I don’t know if I’ve ever logged 72 contiguous hours of shirtlessness in my life, but this week it was a testament to shedding stressors, baring our flaws, and soaking up the sun. Not a bad week.

I hope you missed me this week as much as I missed you. Pictures below.
















The beach where we stayed.
















Group 81 guys (minus Joey, who missed the conference because he was working on a project on Savai'i). Left to right (shortest to tallest): Supy, Koa, Me, Paul, Jordan, AJ, Dan, Phil.
















Group 81 girls... Sorry the picture didn't come out well at all. Left to right: Kate, Chris, Blakey, Erin.
















Breakfast on Tuesday(?): Panakeke, papaya, oranges, and tea.
















Afternoon snack on Wednesday: Panepopo (sweet bread served in an inch of coconut cream) and apple wedges.
















Language class in Onofia's fale.
















Another culture show on Wednesday night. It think it's my 78th since arriving in Samoa.

2008: A Retrospective

The end of the year is upon us, and since not too much interesting happened since I posted yesterday’s blog, I figured I’d go back and post some of the pictures that somehow slipped through the cracks over the last couple months. I’ve tried to post them in chronological order with the exception of the Moustache Gang above, which was too priceless to not post, and I’m not sure what happened. In any case, this is as long as my moustache got. A few hours later that same day, it was gone. It should be noted that AJ briefly participated in the ‘Stache-Off, but he dropped out early due to a previous commitment.

Maybe I posted this one before? This is me and Asolima posing with the guitar and ukelele... Getting ready to take the show on the road.

Akanese at the brand new resort on the north side of the island that was built in 2005. It was kind of weird being there with Asolima and ragamuffinly-dressed Akanese. Definitely an upstairs/downstairs feel.

My room in the village. Small, but cozy.

Jordan, Dan, and Erin playing Euchre.

Phil, Me, and Joey at the fiafia on our last night in the village.

The slap dance. Left to right: Phil, Dan, Me, Supy, Jordan, Koa, Joey, Paul, AJ. We look surpringly coordinated.

What is this? San Francisco?

I was the last to go on the last day of model school, so I ended up grabbing the paper that everyone used to throw away later. And then I forgot about it and I left it in my room when I left the village. My family found it, cut it up, and used it as trim for one of their fales. You can see it above Mele's head in this picture.

This fire was burning behind my house when I got home last night. I think it is the people who live behind me burning their trash. A little unnerving.

A little strange when you start recognizing the small pests that live around your house. This lizard is missing his tail. I see him (her?) often.

This is the tanline on the back of my neck. Hard to see here, I guess... But it is drastic.

And that's my retrospective. And it ended with me looking back, away from the camera. How appropriate. I probably won't get to blog before midnight tomorrow. So have a happy, safe New Year's Eve, and I'll talk to you soon.

Training Odds and Ends

I’m writing this blog at 1:00 a.m. on the eve of the Great Scattering. The volunteers (we’re no longer trainees now that we’ve been sworn in) going to Savai’i are leaving the hotel at 4:30 a.m. to catch the first ferry. The rest of us can sleep in since we won’t be leaving until 8:30 a.m. at the earliest. And with training coming to an end, I figure I will tie up the loose ends on training so we can move on tomorrow.

• As you can see, I got a haircut and I shaved the ‘stache. The “Before” picture was taken during the day so the sunlight is nice, and the “After” picture was taken at night with a flash after I wore contacts for 9 hours. So even though I’m happy about my shedding, the “After” picture isn’t the shiny, glowing paragon that I had hoped for, but it’ll have to do.
  
• “Wonderful” by Everclear is a really sad song. I still find it surprisingly poignant.
  
• In my interview with Dale, Country Director of Samoa, he pointed out that rather than using “Activist” and “Fatalist” in the Locus of Control discussion, better terms would be “Proactive” and “Reactive”. This is much better than my flowery “Idealism” and “Humility”.
  
• On the Tuesday morning, my host family woke me up at 6:00 a.m. to pray. It was painful. We sang a song I’d never heard and then I had to read the bible aloud in Samoan. Psalm 1. I actually read the bible aloud every night for family prayer. That said, Tuesday morning’s prayer felt a little like I was their monkey doing tricks for them.
  
• I think I also understated the roll of sandlot volleyball in the village. It happened every day at precisely 4:15 and would last until dusk because family prayer started at dusk. Volleyball was the social center for the youth of the village. It was a place to see and be seen. Most of the training group played volleyball at one point or another. Jordan, Joey, Dan, and Blakey were frequent players. I never played. But I would sit and watch for a while every day.
  
• The bad “After” picture could also be attributed to Matt’s Theory on Haircuts, which states that for the first two weeks after you get a haircut, it looks just as bad as it did when it was getting to long. I illustrated this theory in graph form for Jennifer once. Lucky for everyone, I saved the file and I’ve posted it here for your edification.
  
• “Nightswimming” by R.E.M. is a really pretty song, although I’ve never really bothered to listen to the lyrics.
  
• I never told the second half of the story about when I pulled Akanese out of the van. One thing I’ve noticed about Samoan culture is that people don’t really hold grudges at all. Once a situation is defused, it is forgotten. But that was disproved a bit when I came home from school on the Tuesday after the Saturday that the incident happened. Things were quiet, and then Asolima goes, “Mati, remember when you hated Akanese and you pulled her out of the van? It wasn’t Akanese that put her finger in your ear. It was Lupe.” It turns out that Tafale told Asolima that it was Lupe and not Akanese, which REALLY pissed off Asolima (“I hate that girl”). Then Mele goes off on Lupe, all in Samoan, so I understand none of it. But tears run down Lupe’s face. So then there was a really awkward schism in the family that I had caused somewhat inadvertently. I was already pretty embarrassed about the incident, so this whole new chapter was pretty terrible. Lupe and I went for a walk later in the evening though, and things were cool. We also saw Tafale, which was awkward at first, but then things were fine.
  
• Did you notice the sentence in our wordy Mission Statement that juxtaposes volunteer idealism and humility? Yeah. That was my idea.
  
• I have read more of the bible in Samoan in the last 2 months than I have read the bible in English in the last 7 years. And the only reason I read it in English was because I took a class on the Old Testament in college. Matt Lanier would point out that this is because I’m Catholic and Catholics don’t read the bible.
  
• Earlier in our stay, there would be sandlot soccer or rugby across the street from sandlot volleyball. I played soccer once, but once the kids with cleats started showing up, it wasn’t fun. It also became less of a game and more of a contest to see who could school me the most. This got old quickly.
  
• “Africa” by Toto is easily the most fun song to sing at the top of your lungs.
  
• The more I think about it, the more I am weirded out that Tafale borrowed my flip-flops and then never brought up the issue again and just kept them. Although that is sort of the way it works here. When someone says they really like something of yours, it pretty much means they would like to own it. Also, the more I think about it, the more I realize that there’s no way I can trade her for a different color. Black goes with everything, but it is not an option now.
  
• We were all in a little shock at how often our host families used the word “hate”. I think that something is lost in translation and the Samoan idea of “hate” isn’t nearly as severe as the American idea of “hate”.
  
• There wasn’t too much variety in the bible passages that I would read each night. Mele would tell me what to read, but there were very few in rotation. There was Psalms 1 and 23 and the first paragraph of Matthew 5. Judging from my limited Samoan vocabulary, I think Matthew 5 is the Beatitudes. For 2 days, we worked our way through Luke 1, but Mele was never good at telling me which verse to start with… so one night I read aloud the lineage of Abraham to Jesus in Samoan, which was incredibly boring for everyone involved. That was the end of working our way through Luke 1.
  
• Dan and Jordan joined the rugby game one afternoon. In the locals’ attempt to school Dan, they gave him a black eye. After that, the village council decided to ban all sandlot sports except volleyball. Volleyball was also banished for a day near the end of our stay because kids in the village were going to play volleyball instead of going to dance practice for our Goodbye Fiafia. Funny.
  
• Lupe was really nice. Her reputation (“I hate that girl”) was unwarranted, in my opinion. She was shy about having her picture taken. She would always call Bingo at our in-house games. Even on the night of the Great Schism, she still called Bingo.
  
• I thought we were leaving the village at 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday, but it turned out our call time was 8:30 a.m. So I was late and my goodbyes were rushed. This was sad for me. But I am going back to the village for Christmas, so whatev. Buses don’t run on Christmas Day so I’ll be going out there the 24th and coming back on the 26th.
  
• Finally, I can tell you that I’ve moved into my new place now, and it’s a little scary. Very few power outlets, the lights are out in my bedroom and in the kitchen, etc. But we’ll save all that for next time. Also, a bunch of us are going to Savai’I on Friday for Phil’s birthday.
  
  That’s all I got. Pics below.

Me on the day of Swearing In. A Samoan dress is refered to as a Pulatasi. Dylan refered to my outfit as a Man-tasi.

Akanese and Me after the Swearing In ceremony.

Country Director Dale and Me after the Swearing in Ceremony. Thick-framed glasses are standard issue in the Peace Corps. Also, he looks like Dan Leopard in this picture. Also, Dan Leopard wears thick-framed glasses.

Oge during the village dance that immediately followed the Swearing In ceremony. I still think he looks like Jose Leal.

Language Trainer Onofia dancing at the fiafia.

I think this is the same scene as the earlier picture from Culture Day, except from another angle. From left to right, Supy, Phil's Dad Isaako, Phil, Me, and I think Oge. We are peeling Taro. But who needs vegetable peelers when you can just cut off the top of a tin can with a machete and use that?

One of the pigs post-roast. Pretty amazing the efficiency of their cooking style. We baked 2 pigs in roughly 45 minutes. They stick lava rocks in the fire, and then cover the pig. Those rocks are HOT.

This is my bucket shower. First, you rub the soap on the pink loofa/scouring pad. Then you scrub your body. Then you take the big yellow bucket and fill it with water from the big green barrel. Then you take the little yellow bucket, fill it with water from the big yellow bucket, and pour it over your body. You could just take the little yellow bucket and get water directly from the barrel, but then you might get mosquitos or whoknowswhatelse. For me, the big yellow bucket was a good way to spot such things.

This is the toilet. To flush, you take the old paint can (not pictured), fill it with water from the white barrel, and pour it into the toilet reservoir. Flush as usual.

To'ana'i with Uncle Laumatia. 2 fish, breadfruit, palusami (coconut cream covered in taro leaf), chicken soup, chop suey, and a coconut to drink.

Cute, nerdy Iva at to'ana'i in Apolima.

And finally, a Canadian tuxedo right here in Samoa. Awesome, ay?

The End of the Village, the End of Training

We’re done with the village stay! We’re back to a life of internet, running water, and free will! Hooray! I did the unthinkable and brought my laptop with me to the village for the final 3 days. A number of the other volunteers have been bringing theirs since early November, but I’ve been deathly afraid. If this thing were to break, it would be the equivalent of losing an important body part. Having it in Fausaga has allowed for some extra writing and this blog post is a bit long. That said, it’s the last time I’ll be internet-less for such a long period of time, and therefore the last time I should need to cover 2 weeks+ in one blog entry.

One more thing before I begin: When running a marathon, a common sentiment is that you actually finish the first half at mile 20, and the last 6.2 miles are so physically and mentally strenuous that they are the second half of the race. The same rule seems to apply to the village stay. Back in early November when we came for the 3-week stint, within 45 minutes of getting here, I was enjoying myself. I was happy to be with Akanese and co., and things seemed all right. This final village stay began under a much darker mood, and times seems to have crawled by at a much slower pace.

So without further ado…

Saturday, November 29

9:00 a.m. Before we set out for the village, we have our All Volunteer conference where all of the Peace Corps Volunteers from across Samoa come together. The bus driver forgets to pick up the trainees. We arrive a half hour late.
11:45 a.m. During lunch, I slice all 4 fingertips on my right (i.e. dominant) hand while trying to open a cracker tin.
11:45 a.m. I have resorted to an all-cracker diet because my diarrhea has reached crisis level. So the fingertips thing is really just adding injury to insult.
4:48 p.m. We arrive back in the village.
5:33 p.m. While watching sandlot volleyball, my body feels a little achy and I get a light headache. This does not bode well.

Sunday, November 30

1:28 a.m. I have a raging fever brought on from angry diarrhea. I’m burning through the sheets and my mouth is arid. I realize my fresh new bottle of water that I bought in Apia is locked inside my host family’s house. My only other option is the water bottle my family bought for me, which is the prime suspect in The Case of the Diarrhea Causer. So I thirst my fever.
7:32 a.m. Ignoring the “lots of fluids” advice works handily. My fever is gone when I wake up. I skip morning church to sleep.
2:00 p.m. We go to afternoon church 2 villages over in Vai’e’e. This is a special event where choirs from all over the region come to perform. 9 choirs in all, and each has a pastor that gets up and speaks for about 8-10 minutes before the choir performs. Afternoon church stretches out for over 2 hours. My body is miserable.
4:22 p.m. I go to take a nap. My nap stretches to Monday morning.

Monday, December 1

7:00 a.m. After sleeping for 22 of the past 24 hours, I finally feel niceably better.
8:00 a.m. We start preparing for 3 days of model school at Palalaua College down the road. We’ll be teaching condensed computer lessons to a class of 20 students.

Tuesday, December 2

8:30 a.m. We are introduced to the Palalaua students at an assembly. Our training director gives a short explanation of our presence, and then invites us to introduce ourselves. I am sitting on the end and he gestures for me to go first. Normally I’d be fine with it, but in this situation, do you get up and give the introduction in English, or do you take a gamble and do it in Samoan? My kneejerk reaction is to go with Samoan; afterall, these are rural Samoan students. “O lo’u igoa o Mati. Ou te sau mai California i ‘Amerika.” The rest of the group follows my lead and does the intro in Samoan. Everyone giving their name and state. And then Onofia, one of our language instructors, gets up and gives his name and his district in Samoa, imitating our nervousness and lack of pronunciation skills. This joke kills. Onofia is beloved among our group though, and if someone had to make fun of us after we’d just been thrown under the bus, it’s just as well that it was him.
5:37 p.m. At sandlot volleyball, one of the guys serving (They play with 1 permanent server and 6 field players. Local rule.) is wearing short shorts, a short-sleeved skin-tight t-shirt, and puka shells. Also, his serve is over-the-top effeminate and explosive. In San Francisco, I’d know exactly what statement this guy was making, but here, not so sure.

Wednesday, December 3

7:30 a.m. Today is the first day off the all-cracker diet.
9:44 a.m. Dan and I argue about whether Kevin watches the same violent old movie in Home Alone and Home Alone 2. Also up for debate is whether those scenes were shot specifically for the Home Alone movies, or if they are actual old movies. Those with abundant internet time, your verification is appreciated.

Thursday, December 4

12:32 p.m. I have the last class on the last day of Model School. For all of these kids, all of this information is review, and they are bored to tears. So I get them to play Simon Says, which goes over strangely well. Then we do charts in Excel for a half hour.
1:17 p.m. We have a goodbye assembly. The entire school sings for us. Loudly. Sitting in front of a couple hundred voices singing at the top of their lungs feels like a weird combination of Phil Spector’s Wall of Sound and that scene in “The Little Mermaid” when Sebastian’s orchestra goes from dead silent to bursting with sound in one beat.
9:04 p.m. Phil and his sister come over to play cards. I am freezing. So cold that blood stops circulating in some of my fingers. It’s summer here in the Tropic of Capricorn. No one else is cold. Fever #2.

Friday, December 5 - CULTURE DAY

6:30 a.m. Today is culture day. Men are scheduled to go to the plantation and kill a pig. Women are going to stay home and make soup. I show up late on account of the fever, so I end up spending less time at the mosquito-infested plantation. Well played, Matthew.
9:56 a.m. The group actually kills 2 pigs. Rather than slitting the throat, the common method here is to lay the pig on its back, lay a stick across its neck, and then stand on either 9:00 end of the stick until the pig suffocates. This method is a bit long and gruesome. After, the top layer of skin and innards are removed, the body is stuffed with hot rocks and banana leaves, and then the both pigs are roasted along with taro, breadfruit, palusami, and fish.
10:01 p.m. I confirm that my family plus Phil and his sister are going to the movies tomorrow. Let that marinate in your head for a moment before continuing. Put yourself in my shoes. When someone tells you we’re going to the movies tomorrow, what assumptions do you make? Thought about it? Good.

Saturday, December 6

6:15 a.m. I am woken up by Akanese. Church bells rang in the middle of the night, which sometimes means that someone died, so my guess is that’s what’s up. When I show up for breakfast, Asolima tells me urgently, “Get ready!”
“For what?” I ask, confused and slightly annoyed.
Asolima is more annoyed though. “I told you we’re going to the movies.”
For a split second, I try and use reason, “Right, but...” and then I cut myself off, and decide to roll with it. We pick up Phil and his sister and drive across the island to Apia to the country’s only movie theater.
8:57 a.m. We arrive at the theater after making a couple stops to see family along the way. We decide to see “Australia,” Baz Luhrmann’s new film, which starts at 10. We drive aimlessly around Apia because we have time to kill. Because we woke up at dawn to see a movie that is showing 4 times today.
1:34 p.m. Akanese is really getting on my nerves in the van after the movie. We make another stop to visit family, but most of us sit in the car. Akanese sticks her finger in my ear. This is the last straw. I get out of the van, pull her out of the back of the van, slide the door closed, and then hop back into the front seat, locking the door behind me. I forgot to lock the sliding door though, and Akanese quickly figures this out. I reach through my open window, and pull the door shut. Akanese screams and the clutches her fingers as she cries. It turns out, as I very much suspected at the time, that she was faking. But she’s a really good faker. She has asthma, and has found that it gains her a lot of sympathy if she can roll and asthma attack into her crying fits. Asolima comes back to the car. We leave.

Sunday, December 7

10:16 a.m. After church, we go to have big Sunday brunch, to’a’na’i, in Apolima with the entire extended family of my dead host father. To’ana’i is such a big deal in Samoa that the Samoan name for Saturday is Aso To’a’na’i because traditionally, Saturday is spent preparing Sunday’s brunch.
2:06 p.m. Bored at the family party, I hang out with the kids. One five year-old I meet is Iva from New Zealand. She says unintentionally hilarious things (“You smashed my lolly, but I’ve fixed it.”). I get the feeling that she is a nerd. We are able to bond over our nerdiness and our ability to speak English. Picture below.

Monday, December 8

8:00 a.m. We start practice for our final language exam, which will be held on Thursday. We each have a 20-minute interview with an independent auditor. It’s slightly stressful.
8:37 p.m. My host family starts playing bingo for money at home. They are avid church bingo attendees, so the home experience is pretty authentic. Same varying bingo patterns to win, same cut-throat attitude. 10 sene per card per game. I lose.

Tuesday, December 9

8:00 a.m. Happy birthday, Danielle Giles.
8:17 a.m. Group 81 proves itself to be a governmental body when we have to democratically come up with a mission statement. After a strangely heated discussion that hurts many feelings, we come up with the following flowery, new age, non-speak:

As teachers, lifelong learners, and active participants in our communities, group 81 hopes to inspire our students’ love of learning and encourage our fellow teachers to pursue the highest standards of education. With the idealism to bring sustainable improvement and the humility to work and learn within the Fa’asamoa, we hope the growth we promote will be reflected in ourselves. We will develop local resources to be used beyond our years of service while we impart a greater understanding of Samoa to our communities back home.

10:30 a.m. We have a slew of “finals” today. One bizarrely long-winded test for Life and Work, another for health, and one for safety and security.
12:06 p.m. I give the Medical Officer a stool sample so she can figure out what’s up with my diarrhea and fever problem. I don’t think I’ve ever collected a stool sample before. I find the process surprisingly easy and painless.

Wednesday, December 10

9:00 a.m. I have my final in-house language assessment. The atmosphere is jovial.
12:00 p.m. When I get home for lunch, a shiny red car is parked in our driveway. This turns out to be Uncle Laumatia’s rented car. Uncle Laumatia lives in Salt Lake City. He is also the highest chief in our family. The highest highest chief. This means my guest status is immediately downgraded to economy class.
7:02 p.m. My host mother’s entire extended family has dinner at Jordan’s house. While we are economy class guests now, we are still treated like royalty. Oh, and I forgot. Uncle Laumatia calls me “Martin”. I don’t object because I think it would be rude. He calls Jordan “Jonathan”. These names will stick for the duration of our time in Fausaga. Kind of grating. Oh well.

Thursday, December 11

9:00 a.m. I have my interview with the independent auditor. I need to score at least Intermediate-Low, and I score Intermediate-Mid, which is good enough. Later I find out that over half the group has scored Intermediate-High. Stupid overachievers.
1:28 p.m. We have the afternoon off and take advantage of it by going to the beach. While at the beach, a sea slug attaches itself to Supy, and Paul organizes the first annual coconut shotput accuracy challenge, which ends up being as ridiculous as it sounds. We also explore what is left of an abandoned resort, which turns out to feel like an eerie mix of MYST and the Dharma Initiative.
5:44 p.m. Back at the ranch, I go to fill my water bottle, and the Country Director Dale is sitting at the trainers’ house. “Hello, Matt!” He calls out. I’ve never had a conversation with him, but I like that he knows my name.
10:18 p.m. I finish reading “The Christmas Train” by David Baldacci. It is one of the worst books I have ever read, and I recommend it to no one. It has a completely unnecessary twist at the end that just makes the whole thing more strange. But really, the whole book was unnecessary.

Friday, December 12

10:00 a.m. Dale is in town to do individual interviews with each of us as part of the Peace Corps initiation process. Conversation in mine rolls around to me not going to Turkmenistan and also hating teaching in Oakland. I think I make him nervous.
1:52 p.m. Koa and I go to meet with the Treasurer of the EFKS system. EFKS is the Samoan Congregationalist religion and Koa and I will both be teaching at EFKS schools. We are skeptical of coming to meet the man because he invites us under the guise of discussing our living accommodations, but we suspect that he really just wants us to come look and fix his server problems. I don’t know anything about servers. It turns out he simply wanted us to come and talk about living accommodations.
2:49 p.m. We drive to my school, and I get to see my house. Stupidly, I take no pictures though my camera is in my pocket the entire time. I also take no note of the mosquito netting situation. What I do remember is that the place is fairly narrow. There’s a living room, a bedroom, and a kitchen. There’s no hot water. It is definitely bigger than my apartment in Pasadena, which isn’t saying much.
10:12 p.m. I win bingo! Real church bingo! I tie with 2 other people, and we have to split the winnings, so I end up with $3.70 ST, which is just slightly more than $1US.
11:14 p.m. On the walk home from Bingo, I ask Asolima if we are going to Phil’s party tomorrow because I will need to come back early from Apia if we are. Asolima gets a little mad and says, “We always invite Phil to our stuff, so they better invite you.” And thus, I innocently set a chain of events in motion that will wreck Phil’s party.

Saturday, December 13

8:29 a.m. We go to Apia. I blog and Skype and shop for presents for my family to give Monday night. Asolima calls me to tell me to come back early so I can go to Phil’s party.
1:53 p.m. Phil calls me on the bus on the way home and tells me that Asolima’s mad and she said that we always invite Phil to our stuff, so they better invite me.
3:02 p.m. We head to Phil’s party, which starts out okay. They are drinking vodka and Sprim (essentially Kool-Aid), which is hilarious. Neither Phil nor I drink that much, and mostly we hang out with the barbecue.
5:16 p.m. All hell breaks loose when Uncle Laumatia shows up. Let me explain. Phil’s cousin, Onosai, has a birthday coming up, as does his son, Tony. Phil’s birthday is Friday, so this was intended to be a small, quiet family party for the 3 of them. So hush-hush was it that my family didn’t learn about it until I asked them about it. When they found out about it, they told Uncle Laumatia. When Uncle Laumatia found out about it, he told the other Peace Corps families. So just as cake is being served, Uncle Laumatia and the masses show up. Cake is passed around to the guests, which are the Peace Corps trainees and Uncle Laumatia and his father. There ends up being no cake or barbecue for Onosai or his son. They had also brought out a bottle of white wine (an extreme rarity around here), which Onosai also didn’t get to drink at his own party. While I didn’t really do anything wrong, I still feel indirectly responsible. Sucks.
9:03 p.m. Me, Phil, his sistser Tuese, and Oge go for a walk down the road, which brings us into the neighboring village of Fusi. We hear “Little Drummer Boy” coming out of one of the houses, and we all start to sing along… really getting into the “pa-rum-pum-pum-pums”. We continue singing for quite a ways. It’s funny.

Sunday, December 14

12:04 p.m. Me, Phil, Dan, and Jordan go to Jordan’s for to’ana’i. After the meal, Uncle Laumatia gives a bit of a speech saying that we are all adopted into the family now and that we can come back whenever we want, etc. I get the feeling that one of us will be expected to give a speech after Laumatia finishes. And then as he ends his speech, he says, “Now the floor is open if any of you would like to say anything.” Hint hint. Dan says, “Matt? Phil?”
So I figure I’ll say something (G.O.B.: Typical) thanking the families for hosting us. I speak exclusively in English while Laumatia translates, which is nice because it gives me time to think of what to say next. While zoning out in church that morning I was thinking about the time Martin Sheen told my mom that she should have brought up the Corporal Works of Mercy with the bishop (how hilarious/surreal is that sentence?). So I weave that into my speech, “When we were hungry, you gave us food; when were sick, you took care of us; etc.” I’m not usually good on the fly, but I am pretty proud of this one.
1:37 p.m. When we get back to our fale, my family has gotten their hands on the Elf DVD. We watch it. It ends just in time for afternoon church. Awesome.
10:13 p.m. After choir practice, Phil’s sister Tafale plays cards at our house. Someone took her shoes from choir rehearsal, so she ends up borrowing my black Havaianas for the night.

Monday, December 15

8:17 a.m. Phil tells me that Tafale loves my Havaianas. I feel somewhat obligated to give them to her since I have 2 pair and she has none. I suppose I can leave them with her for now and bring her a different color when I come back for Christmas. I gotta keep the black, right? They go with everything.
2:04 p.m. Our Swearing In ceremony turns out to be a pretty big deal. The Samoan Minister of Education shows up, as does the US Charges d’Affaires. Chris gives a speech on behalf of the trainees (we elected her). She’s a fast-talker, and my expectations are admittedly low. She docesn’t talk too fast though, and her speech turns out to be pretty good. Props.
7:58 p.m. During the fiafia, I sit in the front row for our sasa dance. And I’m confident in my knowledge of the moves. I false start on the second part, and the crowd laughs. After the fiafia, my family and Phil’s family remind me repeatedly that I screwed up during the sasa dance.

And now we’re back in Apia! Hot showers for now, free will, internet. Zany. Okay. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, internet! Pictures below.

Jordan, Dan, and Erin on the bus back to the village.

Me sweeping the church on our first day back. Using a one-handed broom with my sliced fingers. Good times.

Language Trainer Onofia shadow-boxing. He's awesome.

Phil's sisters. Tuese, Fipe, and Tafale.

Girls at the model school.

I realized that part of the reason it doesn't feel like Christmas is because there aren't Christmas lights on any houses. The absence became apparent when I noticed the Christmas lights on this grave. Yeah. Graves are a big thing here. Most people have them in front of their house. And they decorate them elaborately.

Uncle Laumatia, me, Mele, and Akanese up front after the Swearing In ceremony. It felt like high school graduation.

Matatia and another kid doing wheelbarrow-oriented chores. Matatia is the EFKS pastor's son. The other kid is around a lot. Never learned his name though.