Wednesday, September 27, 2006

The saga continues..

September 23 –
I’m not going to Apia until next week as the funeral isn’t until the 28th. There were a bunch of people here again today. They came to dig the grave, which I admit is kind of a morbid topic but it is all done so differently here I thought I would describe it anyway. First you need to know that Samoan’s bury their relatives in their front yards, and then build memorials on them. Then they “honor” the dead for eternity by sitting on them to chat, allowing the children to play on them, and keeping masses of artificial flowers (still in the plastic bags they bought them in) arranged over the site. Someday when I get up enough nerve I’m going to take some pictures.

Fortunately for me the existing graves here are discretely located and the most impressive one is just a huge pile of lava rocks so none of this quaint custom has affected me until now. So they dig the hole then they pour a cement liner which has a lip at the top to receive the lid which has been poured in 3 sections so they can lift it. After the funeral at the church the pallbearers will bring the coffin here and place it in the grave. They lay a sheet of plexiglass in next, cover it with a “fine mat”, some artificial flowers and perhaps other items, then they put the lid on the box and build their monument on top of it. Since this was a village high chief I suppose that will be memorable.

One other item of note. When they were digging the grave they came upon the remains of another poor unfortunate soul who had not been buried so efficiently. I had gone down to the Komiti house to answer the phone. I came back with a message for one of the women who was sitting in the meeting fale next to my house. I saw that she and another woman had a baby’s bathtub and were washing things from a pile next to them in it and carefully wiping them off. It took a second look to realize that it was human remains they were cleaning. So they finished their job and carefully wrapped all the bones up in a bundle and set it aside to be dealt with after the funeral. Aaack! This cultural immersion thing is about to get me down. Where is the Coroner when you need one?


September 26 –
I sit at the table in my room and watch as two worlds meet at the boat dock. Aggie Gray Hotel’s tour boat has just arrived and is unloading it’s cargo of 10 or so white humans, Aussies or Kiwis most likely, who straggle down the dock in their completely inappropriate western wear and straw hats to keep the sun off. I’ve learned those hats only work if the wind isn’t blowing, and if it isn’t blowing it is entirely too hot to go for a walk anyway, but there they are in the hottest part of the day, about to embark on a 2 hour stroll of discovery around the island.

Meanwhile, crossing the boat channel in a brightly painted yellow and green paopao canoe is a Samoan returning from fishing. A paopao is a small hand hewn dugout outrigger canoe that will seat 2-4 people depending on the size (of the boat and the people I suppose). Usually when fishing they only carry one person. their nets, and some coolers to put the fish in. The reef here is quite a ways offshore and although the paopaos are not taken over the reef they are used extensively for fishing between it and the shore. The larger boats like the ones used to ferry passengers between here and the main island are taken out over the reef in search of larger fish. Either way, the day’s catch goes into coolers and is taken into Apia to sell at the stores and at the fish market.

Busy Weekend

September 19-
It's been an eventful week and it's not over yet. I got a call from Ki, my hostess, last Friday morning telling me that, "Oh by the way there is going to be a title giving ceremony there on Saturday and people will begin arriving this afternoon." Now mind you a title giving ceremony is a HUGE thing in Samoan Society. The whole extended family attends and since most of them don't live here on the island they would be coming on Friday and spending the night.

At 7:30pm the family business got started. When a title is given that man's family is required to pay a stated sum for the privilege. In this case it was $1000 tala, 5 fine mats, several cases of canned meat and 3 bolts of cloth. This all had to be counted out and receipt acknowledged for each of the 17 young men who were getting titles. That took until midnight, then they all had to chat a while before finally settling down to sleep. The women did sleep in the meeting fale, but the men were all spread out in my "living room". I went to bed and tried to sleep but woke up at 4:00am, realized the kitchen light was still on and got up to turn it off. Out by the back fale I could see they had built a fire which some of the young men were tending and the women were preparing something in a huge pot. They were out there all night.

Next morning everyone got up, bustled around getting ready, and then headed down the way to the village matai council meeting fale for the actual title ceremony. When the ceremony was over everyone was served lunch at the matai’s meeting fale which entailed mass production of "box lunches" which were styrofoam doggy-bag boxes filled with whatever they were cooking at 4:00am. I have no idea how many people finally ended up here for the event as a lot came that morning on the boat but I'd guess it was around 100. It looked like a busy anthill for a while as the "workers" scurried back and forth carrying 5 or 6 boxes each until everyone got served.

By nightfall everyone had left but a couple of men who were staying in the village with other families. One of these was the former high chief of this village. Apparently early next morning at daylight (6:00am) they decided to go for a swim. I was awakened by the sound of loud urgent voices and women yelling at Ki to wake her up. I got up and looked out to see them escorting her down towards the boat dock as a large number of villagers gathered around. Because of her wailing I was concerned that something had happened to her 7 year old son so I threw on some clothes and followed them, but was relieved to find out that it was the former high chief who had died while swimming. They carried him back to the house and the village women frenetically gathered around washing his body, spreading out fine mats, on which they placed a sheet covered foam pad and a pillow, and then they placed his sheet wrapped body on that. The Methodist minister arrived shortly and a brief service was held then they took the body down to the boat and headed to Apia to the hospital where the morgue is located. Next Friday there will be a funeral of colossal proportions here in the village. The man was the high chief for a long time and the entire village will be involved in this fa'alavelave (unusual event- most often a funeral).

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

Island Happenings

September 5 -
Time to get you caught up with events in my world (of which there really aren’t many). This week has been Teuila (a flower) Festival and a lot of the villagers are in Apia for the festivities so I haven’t even tried very hard to get any PC work done. I did however clean my room and scoured the range so I can feel OK about using it.

Last Friday morning I was hanging out in my PJ’s and having a cup of coffee when M, one of the pulenuu’s sons who volunteers up at the school, showed up and asked me if I was ready to go to the school. Not knowing anything about this and feeling particularly stubborn that morning, I said no I couldn’t go. He, however, didn’t leave. He just kept sitting there and I was at a total loss what to do next. With my limited Samoan and his limited English we just weren’t managing to communicate when fortunately his mother showed up. She was able to explain to me that the school children had prepared a fiafia for me and it was time to go. A fiafia, by the way, can be either a fond farewell celebration as was the case when we left Vaie’e, or it can be a warm welcome as was the case here. Very much chagrined over my boorish behavior, I asked her to wait a moment so I could dress then we were off. It was really very sweet. They danced and sang and did a couple of skits and had even made a big banner sign that said “Welcome Dear Lili”. Talk about the colossal faux pas of all time if I had not gone!! I don’t even want to think about that.

A, the pulenuu’s wife, told me that Saturday morning at 6:00 or 7:00am they were going to pick up lapisi (rubbish) which seemed like a worthwhile task since there is so much of it, so I offered to help. We started at about 6:45am and I grabbed a trash basket, made from coconut leaves, and headed out. Obviously their idea of rubbish and mine are not the same. There I was scouring the area for chip bags, Styrofoam, cans, bottles, plastic grocery bags filled with treasures, etc. when I realized that everyone else was picking up leaves. We ran into this in Vaie’e as well when we did the village beautification project. One man’s compost is another’s rubbish apparently, so I switched gears and started picking up leaves too, wondering why 50 people turned out at that time of the morning to pick up leaves in other peoples yards. It turns out it was a fund raiser for the church. I guess, as we came by you donated money and then we picked up your leaves, at least that is as close as I came to figuring it out. At any rate, I later got a can of pisupo (corned beef) given to me as thanks for helping.

I decided since I was up and it was still early and fairly cool I would walk around the island and stop in Salua to see another volunteer, so off I went. It was a nice walk past some really nice beaches, through the banana plantations and on over to the other side of the island. By the time I got to Salua the sun was beating down, there was not much shade on the path anymore, and the gal I was going to stop and see wasn’t home so I continued on my way, vowing to remember my hat next time.

Yesterday and today there have been really low tides and the village women and kids have been scouring the exposed areas for fish trapped in the tidal pools and for sea cucumbers of which there are two kinds. One is shaped like a small cucumber. That one they scrape off the outside, cut it open and clean out the insides, then eat the “skin” raw. That one is found in abundance just lying around on the sand. The other one is more of a delicacy and harder to find. It looks like a gelatinous blob on the sides and underside of the rocks. That one they have to pry off with a knife, then they cut it open and harvest the internal organs which they again eat raw. Yucky! I’m afraid my cultural integration will just have to wait a bit there.

That pretty well brings us current – oh, except that I killed my roommate. He was bringing home friends and I figured I’d had enough. I hope there are no Hindus among you.

September 13 -
Another week gone and I still haven't saved the world! I did have some progress on my village survey though and I'm putting all the data into Access which is keeping me off the streets. Oh, come to think of it there aren't any streets. Oh well you get the picture.

I am now getting to the part of the village where the "poor" people live. Some of the living conditions are dreadful. This is the part of the "Tropical South Seas Paradise" that the travel agencies don't want you to see. Huge families of up to 30 people live in a cluster of old traditional open air fales with a wood pole floor or maybe stones they picked up on the beach. They throw down some of their mats and that's it. When company comes they round up a clean mat and put it on top of the old dirty worn one. They have a separate cooking fale and any water they need is hauled from the water tank in buckets. No one has flush toilets or showers. The facilities consist of a water seal toilet over a pit next to the ocean or it may drain into a septic tank but it is primitive either way. Some of the more affluent families, all things being relative, will have one larger usually concrete or cement block fale that serves as a community "living" room and it will have vinyl flooring in it.

Monday I was in my room when I heard a loud commotion outside - banging of "drums" (empty paint cans) and singing so I went to look. Some of the village women and a lot of kids were parading down the path with two large woven mats, maybe 10 x 15 feet, attached to poles and raised in the air like banners as they marched along. Then they went back the way they came until they got to the Komiti house where they stopped, took down and folded up the mats and had a fiafia. They love a good party and will have a fiafia at the drop of the hat for any reason. It turns out one of the women's groups was showing off their fine handiwork to the other group of women and figured a parade was a good way to do it.

The power went off last night so the pulenu'u sent down a light for me. It was a coke bottle with a rag in it filled with kerosene. Isn't that how you make a molotov cocktail? Anyway it gave off a lot of light but you have to be sure to put it close to a window because it is terribly smokey. I think I'll buy a for-real lamp. That thing is scary.

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Reasons why Paradise isn't ---

August 31, 2006

I know you have all been sitting there in your easy chairs pondering on what is so tough about the Peace Corps, and based on the pictures I have posted you have just cause to wonder. Just to set the record straight I thought I’d better tell the other side of the story, so here goes.

Reasons why Paradise isn't --

First, the weather sucks, even though Manono is better than Upolu. I am so tired of having my arms stick to anything I put them down on, including other body parts.

Second, the bugs are horrendous. I don't even care if there aren't any poisonous ones. I just can't stand having them crawl around on me all the time. Mosquitos, flies, little creepy black bugs, weird little white ones, creepy crawlies on the floor, some of which will bite - namely five inch long centipedes, gazillions of cannibal ants (smaller than sugar ants back home but drop a piece of meat on the floor and they attack by the thousands), cockroaches, shy big brown spiders, and even cute little geckos - they are about to drive me nuts. I truly spray at least once a day and use mosquito coils every afternoon just to get the kitchen inhabitable so I can fix something to eat. I have to use roll-on mosquito repellent whenever I sit in the open part of the fale. I wonder how long the human body can take all this toxic exposure before it causes some harm? I can escape some of it if I go in my room and shut the door, but who wants to be cooped up inside in this paradise?

Third, I would love to go sit out on the steps and look at the moon shining on the ocean and gaze at the stars, but I have my sleepers to contend with. They would want to get up and talk to me or try to find out if anything is wrong. They are really very sweet and concerned about my welfare but I just would really like to be left alone to do my own thing.

Fourth, it stinks that the only sure way to get off this island is to go at 6:00am. Then to get back the only sure way is to come at 2:15p or so when the high school kids come home. If I just want to go to Apolima to see K (maximum 1/2 hour trip) or go to the store or post office it could turn into an 8 hour trip. True there are other boats, but only the good Lord and the boatman know when they might run. At least some of the boatmen run passengers part of the time but then they go fishing too so you never know when one might show up.

Fifth, trying to get groceries is a major hassle out here on the island. There are little markets but their stock is extremely limited and very expensive. I can get all the breadfruit, taro, papaya, mangos, and bananas I want (when they are in season) but some green veggies or corn or carrots would be nice on a regular basis. For those you have to go to Apia which is 1 and a half hours there and 1 and a half back on the bus (to say nothing of getting a boat). I did find one store here on the island that carries chicken, which would be great if I hadn't gotten totally sick of it when I was in training because I had it EVERY day. Other than that, no meat of any kind. If the kids get lucky when they go spear fishing I may get a fish on occasion which is a nice treat, but I miss my lemon pepper.

Other than that, it's great here and I am even getting a little work done. Yesterday I went down to the Komiti house and played cards with some of the ladies for an hour. Good language exposure, and I lost so they'll probably let me come back again. Today I started my village survey, talking to people, finding out about their families and wishes for the village. Three down, 37 to go!

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