February 1, 2010 – After posting the blog at Internet café, our Apia itinerary called for a trip to the US Embassy to get information on whether my stepson was to travel to New Zealand for an immigrant interview at the US Embassy in Auckland. The answer was affirmative and the procedure was the same. I do not know what type of question they will ask and that is the reason we have an attorney. After the embassy visit and filling out registration for Americans in Samoa, (they had a tsunami last September) it was off to Roko’s for lunch. We are friends with the owners and it is always a pleasure to talk to them as well to my sister-in-law who was promoted to floor supervisor last year. Down to the central food market for rice, bananas, taro chips, and keike, a Samoan biscuit that costs about a dollar apiece back in the US while here you can buy ten to a pack for three dollars. While roaming around the market “LV” and I picked up taro chips and bananas. The rains drum rolled the tin roof of the supermarket we shopped. There was not much for background shopper’s music and back to the village to end the day. A day that ended sunny in the village and torrential rains in the city on the other side of the mountain where as small as the island is, you can have variances in weather at different locations. The night skies cleared to where you can see the stars again and searched for the “Southern Cross.” You have to distinguish the difference between the real “Southern Cross” and a look a like not far from the authentic one. The evening spends putting together a 24-piece puzzle of Dora with the five-year-old niece who used to scream in terror and run away from me several years ago. This time I am her “best friend” and she, like the other kids, are the best sources to learn Samoan. I would purposely put a wrong piece in place just to collect a laugh from her along with a large voiced “leiah” or “NO” in Samoan. I realize these “letters” are no where adventurous as those of “Bully Hayes” the American pirate who sailed out of Apia in the 19th century or that of Mr. Morgan, the cantankerous American ex-pat who lived on these islands prior to the Pacific War who was created by Michener in “Return to Paradise.” Light up several mosquito coils to fight off the buggers for the night. Reading e-mails from the US and talking to “L” it is difficult to envision the Marine Center in Norfolk closed by snow or that Seattle is cold. I keep telling “L” that in cold country, February is the coldest month. Her response, easier said than done as I bask in her native island struggling to keep cool hoping that Mother Nature will provide me with a breeze fan off the beads of sweat.
February 2, 2010 – Awoke to recurring rain coming down slowly that reminded me of the Emerald City. School started yesterday and I missed noticing it completely with the thought of going to the Embassy and getting pictures taken. A trip to Robert Louis Stevenson’s home and grave will have to be done later either by his mother, or when I return to get him. There was much resistance from “LV” in going to school. He gave me his reasons why and I told him discipline he described is not part of American schools but if you did not do your homework, they just failed you. I also re-enforced that if he desired to go to college or university, a professor, along with others, will give you a 100-page assignment due on Monday with quiz to follow and he/she could care less if you read it or not. If you did not read the assignment, failed the quiz, then fail the class. He went to school after fishing with his uncle last night. Today’s course at school, clean the yard and the surrounding fields of brush and tall grass. I told him it was not only his duty to school but it taught him to respect property. Much like the Japanese system where students maintain the school I certainly do not see vandalism or graffiti much like you do in the United States. I told him that in America he would be classified as an “immigrant.” Generally, immigrant children excel more than American kids do. Unlike Samoa where class make-up is homogenous, I wanted him to remember that in America there is much diversity and multiculturalism. What he saw that was the make up of the crew on the Ka’imimoana was similar to what he would see in the US. He had to keep in mind to sustain his progress in Samoan school, do well in English studies, and keep the discipline. In America, he would be representing not only himself but also his family, the honor of his family name; especially his grandfather the High Chief of this village, his country, and culture and purge unfortunate stereotypes of Samoan “gangstas.” Outside of “The Rock” and a few American pro football players, people back home have very little contact or knowledge with Samoa or Samoans. Movies portray many African-Americans (hip-hop culture is popular here) in gangsta mode and pointed out to him that the President of the United States is an African-American (with ties to Hawaii) and certainly is no “gangsta.” I see many Samoan youths in dance clubs mimic the gangsta culture of home and the violence that accompanies it. Fortunately, so far there are no gang murders here so far.
After he went to school, the sister-in-law and I went to Apia to get some food supplies and a chance for her to get away from the house. We brought the kids and niece was concerned about the water from the rain sliding down my chromed dome. My nephew’s sister-in-law rode along to get to the police station to apply for a job and explained it all in perfect English. She lived in South Carolina for several years and explained how she wound up there. While in the city, the rains turned into the torrential downpour, normal for here. Rural roads turn into rivers while potholes are covered making driving slower so as not to damage the suspension or blow out a tire. After getting home, a nap was in order and when I awoke, it had stopped raining and the humidity returned. I was awakening with a phone call from “L.” After finishing, I walked to the store next door for several bottles of “big Vailimas” and a Coke.
I was in the mood to write so I set the laptop in the usual location by the second electrical outlet in the main room. I always sit here to write, next to the slat window (normally found in tropical regions) so I can feel the breeze coming through the window from the beach just south of here. The scenery has not changed much from my first visit here nearly six and a half years ago. I still see the same fales across the way with the tall coconut trees in the backdrop. A large breadfruit tree divides the front yard between us and the neighbor. Towards the side of the window is a small flower garden and in it is where my wife’s older brother is buried. You can see the concrete slab that marks his grave and to the left of it and about ten feet from the front door is the gravesite of her grandparents and ancestors. I have a feeling that I will be downing a couple of Ibuproferens after finishing this Vailima. More rain clouds in the distance south of us over the South Pacific. It looks like no viewing of the “Southern Cross” tonight.
February 3. 2010- I did not go anywhere except to take the niece and her cousin (what level I have no idea) to pre-school across the street at the village Methodist church. They started the day with a song, prayer, and what appears to be the “word of the day.” After a few minutes of viewing, I think I was more of a distraction to the kids, as they were not paying attention to the teacher but looking at me instead. I went for a long walk and back under the hot sun. You could hear comments from the villagers as I walked by. They know who I am, where I live and how I am associated with the village. I am having a difficult time remembering who is who.
Towards the evening the in-laws, stepson, two kids (volunteers), and I drove to neighboring villages and back. Then “LV,” the baby and I went for a drive to Saanapu. We went to the coastal part where the Virgin Cove Resort is. From the main roadway up until the road sign indicating which direction to go was a large “OPEN” billboard posted. Many people have the impression that the entire south coast of Upolu was wiped out by the tsunami. It is far from the truth as the areas where there mangroves and strong coral reefs protected the villages. This was just a day to relax to gear myself up for continuous work the next three months when I reach Pago Pago next week. The stepson went fishing last night. He is learning a good work ethic from his uncle but the late hours may start to affect his school.
February 4, 2010 – Today is my daughter’s birthday. Ever since I took this job, it seems I have missed most of the kids teen year’s birthday. My daughter left her teen years five years ago and is now married, with a son and living with her husband in Spokane. I feel for her as when she was entering her teen years. I had yet to work for NOAA and I was trying to go into a business and with an upstart, cash was always a problem. I recall one year she wanted to take a trip to the nation’s capitol and I did not have the money to send her so the answer was painfully no. I do not know if there was bitterness that resulted from those unfortunate years. I did pay her and her brother to fly to Hawaii and stay at a Waikiki hotel for a week during a family reunion back in 2006. I did offer to take her to Western Samoa three years ago with her brother. However, she never got her passport and interests seem to have taken a different course by then. I will miss the son’s 18th birthday as well. I still recall how upset he was when I missed his eleventh birthday. I do not like missing birthdays, concerts, parent-teacher conferences, or holidays and it is one part of this job that you never receive compensation. He graduates from high school in four months and I will not miss that! It seems with kids it is always hindsight. I will miss my grandson’s second birthday as well. Speaking of kids, “LV” did not go to school this morning due to lack of sleep from night fishing. He asked if I was angry and told him no, and that what he did with his life was his choice. He can learn a good work ethic from his uncle and cousins but his primary job now is to go to school. Therefore, he will not go fishing any longer until school break. The aunt and grandfather agreed. I will let kids do what they want to do but learn from the consequences if they make a wrong decision. I will not let them go over the cliff. I still need to talk to the principal and let them know about his pending application for immigration to America.
You can see the pecking order in children here. When extended families are under the same roof you could see the transition between generations more so than in nuclear families. In videos of New Year’s family reunion, several older generation members are now gone and children that were teens when I first arrived, are now married with their own offspring’s. Those offspring’s are at time watched by those who are now teens and so on. Girls are expected to help around the home with their parents or grandparents. Many times, they are forced to quit school so that they may help with domestic chores. Girls are usually discouraged from pursuing higher education. If you ask them how they feel, they are obliged by the decision. They are more than happy to help the parents and grandparents. I know this will not fly very well with the feminists back home, but people must realize that this is a different culture. Our mode of thinking and liberal western ways normally do not seat well in older conservative cultures.
Weather wise it is a good day and not too humid. Breeze from the south is coming across the village. Sky is cloudy with occasional sunshine. Temperatures must be in the lower 80’s but the humidity lower than normal.
Not much doing today as this will be another day in the village. Tomorrow will trip to Apia to the Internet café for upload.
Talofa from Samoa
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