The end of the beginning
I have always been lucky in life. I appreciate every day of it, and though there were a few years where I may have lost my enthusiasm and understanding of that, I know it and say it all of the time. I was once lucky in love, or so I feel, and hopefully will be one day again. But for now, I'm happy for this. I do think I partly make my own luck- though my decision making has been a struggle and not always on point- many of my stupid decisions and flaky moves have turned into incredible experiences. This is the start of my 26th year.
This week marks the end of orientation. The compound, Lupelele elementary, where we spent the first four weeks, is almost empty. Almost all of the volunteers have moved into their respective housing on the island. I hear the houses are fantastic. The Manu'a people are still here. The compound feels so empty and there is nothing to do- we have too much down time here. We huddle around the laptops and watch DVD after DVD. We cannot wait to move to Manu'a, which will finally happen next Thursday, one week from today.
Life here on Tutuila has not changed much in the past few weeks. I celebrated my birthday last Saturday and it was amazing. From morning until night, each of my friends here made sure I had a perfect birthday. They put posters and baloons over the windows in front of my matress. The cooks made us tofu and vegetables for lunch, and baked from scratch an incredible carrot/fruit cake with white icing and happy birthday written on it. For dinner, World Teach took everyone out to Sadie's, a very nice restaurant near the harbor in Fagotogo. It was my first real meal out since I arrived in Tutuila, and it was just nice to drink wine and eat grilled swordfish with a baked potato and vegetables. After dinner, we went to the bowling alley, which doubles as a nightclub, bowled one game, and hit the dance floor for several hours. The club at the bowling alley is kind of sketchy- it is packed with American Samoan men trying to grab your arm as you walk by and trying to get you to dance with them. When you do dance with them, there is almost no personal space. The dance floor is crowded and sweaty and there is almost no ventilation- the few fans in the place are pointed away from the dance floor (one of a long list of things on this island that may never make sense to me). You can hardly get to the bar, and if you do, you cannot dance with a drink in your hand- I was not so politely escorted off of the dance floor while drinking my first and only drink of the night of my 26th birthday- because I was there to dance. It was a really fun night. At some point, a straggler from the Pacific Arts festival from the Solomon Islands gave me and my friend a traditional wooden carving of a monkey, which was a great gift to receive. The ride to the club was surreal- we rented our own bus for the night, and it drove us at night, curving around the ocean next to the mountains. You can sort of make out the waves in the dark and it is spectacular. I love celebrating my birthdays in new, interesting and fun places with people I care about, and this was one of my best. I had an incredible 25th year, and I think this year could be just as good or better. I could reminisce about New York right now, and my last year there, but I think I will save that all for another journal entry- my final farewell to New York- something I've been planning to write for awhile. That city and my time spent there meant more to me than most people in my life will ever know.
The journey continues. The past two weeks have been filled with lessons, dancing, hanging out at the compound and watching DVDs on the large projector in the common area classroom, swatting at mosquitos and roaches, dealing with the rat, getting used to cold-water showers and cold-water-only laundromats!, taking long walks to nowhere and also to the grocery store at least once a day, trying to find healthy alternatives to the not-so-healthy food they serve here, riding happily in the back of pick-up trucks, taking long busrides next to the ocean, staring at the mountains, swimming in the Pacific, journaling, reading The Kite Runner (amazing book- I couldn't put it down), trying to make sense of a place that doesn't make sense to me, and that I think the American Samoans are still trying to figure out themselves, starting to see some of the problems we had heard about before arriving, and thinking about teaching. I can't wait to start teaching. I have so many ideas. I don't know what levels of math I will be teaching, or if there will be English classes in there, but I don't care. I know that I will have very few students- less than ten- and that that will enable me to do a lot with them. I don't even feel nervous about it, just anxious to start and get my bearings on the new island next week.
Last week we took a day trip to $2 beach, a beautiful strip of beach on the east side of the island. We climbed on the rocks and waded out into the ocean- the tide was low and the coral is ever present and high, so it's hard to jump into a swim in most areas. I did manage to scrape my legs up badly on some coral reef when I walked into it- I was lucikly able to keep my digital camera from getting wet, at the expense of my shins, which still have scars everywhere. The water here is saltier than any other water I've been in. The first time we went swimming, one of the volunteers said that the water tasted salty, and I made fun of him (of course ocean water is salty!)- but it really is!
There are already many frustrating things about living on this island. Everyone is on their own relaxed time schedule. There is no planning. Things that are planned get changed, and nothing is communicated. On more than one occasion, we have had to leap out of bed in the morning and get dressed for a meeting with the department of education, which noone had ever told us about. Nobody here exercises. When my friend and I take walks every day, several cars will stop and ask us if we would like a ride. That is very, very friendly and considerate, and sometimes we do want a ride, but mostly we don't. It became clear right away that they do not understand walking for exercise. Everyone here drives everywhere, even a five or ten minute walk to the store. People just sit around all day- you pass streets and everyone is sitting outside doing nothing. I haven't figured out why, yet. There are some theories, but I think that a lot of people do not work- but I don't think it is for lack of jobs.
I already care about the kids here. They are up against so, so much. They have huge identity crises which is the main cause of suicide in the Pacific island countries. They have family obligations that I still don't understand, and they have no outlet for their anger- they are forbidden to talk back to adults or make their feelings known. Adults take out their aggressions on their children. Education takes a second seat to family obligations and festivities. School is important on the surface, but there is a huge gap between the want for one's kids to do well, and making sure it happens. They are growing up in a bilingual culture- spoken Samoan and teaching in English. The kids in Manu'a especially are left behind when it comes to education. I am hoping to be a part of what changes that. My fellow Manu'a volunteers and I have already spoken with a non-profit here geared towards getting kids to go to college, about starting SAT prep classes out on the island for the high schoolers- I can't wait. The kids here dream about getting off "The Rock," and we want them to know that there are other options besides the military. Many kids here do go to college, but not enough. There is a community college on the island,which is a great start. After leaving, many of them come back to live, which I find to be a great thing. What is important to me is that they know they have options besides the military and death. What they choose from there is out of our reach. The conclusion about the kids here is that they are being constantly torn in several different directions, and they probably can't decide what to do at any given moment. I feel for them and I want to help. That being said, there are kids like this in every country all over the world. It is not easy to be a teenager.
After being served red meat almost every day for the first two weeks, I started to have an aversion towards it and quickly began finding substitutes. Once we found hummus at the Cost-U-Less, I have gone once a week to get more and had at least a few scoops every day for at least one meal every day. I mix it with salsa or carrots or whatever. Since our cooks left, we have been fending for ourselves at the compound, sans stove or oven. Every morning I have oatmeal and/or cereal. I have tried as often as possible to buy lettuce and make salads for everyone. We even found stores that sell whole roast chickens! I eat an apple a day (which hopefully will keep the dogs or ghosts or roaches away!). But I'm nervous about Manu'a. If it's true that they eat fish every day, I can't wait. But there are no vegetables there and really no real grocery stores, so I hear. They eat fish, tarot, green bananas and breadfruit all year. The people on Manu'a, I've heard, are extremely healthy and likely skinnier than the Samoans that live here on Tutuila. So in that respect, I'm excited. But I'm nervous not to be able to eat veggies or salad for a year. I guess time will tell. We also don't know anything yet about housing. I've been told to be prepared for anything from sleeping mats on the floor to a queen size bed. We may or may not have running water and a stove. We were supposed to take a day trip out to the island this week, but after having our bags packed and ready on a moment's notice every day, the trip has still not happened (I should say, American Samoa has gotten us again!), because apparently we are trying to get the governor's plane to take us- why, I don't know. The same governor who was recently indicted by the FBI. How much more can this city remind me of Miami?
I know more than ever that I want to move to the west coast when I get back from travelling and living abroad. I don't know which city or which state, or what I will do there, but I feel this incredible draw towards it. Like the west coast is just more me and the life I want to lead. That being said, I want this year to go slowly- I'm in no rush for that next section of my life to start, even though I know where I want it to be.
For now, I am restless- we all are- for school to start and our real lives here to begin. As much as I have loved the compound, my personal summercamp, living on mattresses on the floor, sharing my life with insects and rodents, being woken up by dogs knocking over our outside garbage cans at 4am, roosters crowing at 5am, and my fellow volunteers, it's time to... wait, all of those things will probably be there on Manu'a as well. I'm not sure what next week will bring, but you can be sure I will post about my first view and thoughts about what has been called by many here one of the most beautiful islands, though remote and isolated, in the world- Manu'a.
Here's to my 26th year- may I stay as lucky in life as I have been for the past 25, and may some of my luck be distributed to my friends and family and the kids of Amerika Samoa who feel like the dice may not have rolled their way.
This week marks the end of orientation. The compound, Lupelele elementary, where we spent the first four weeks, is almost empty. Almost all of the volunteers have moved into their respective housing on the island. I hear the houses are fantastic. The Manu'a people are still here. The compound feels so empty and there is nothing to do- we have too much down time here. We huddle around the laptops and watch DVD after DVD. We cannot wait to move to Manu'a, which will finally happen next Thursday, one week from today.
Life here on Tutuila has not changed much in the past few weeks. I celebrated my birthday last Saturday and it was amazing. From morning until night, each of my friends here made sure I had a perfect birthday. They put posters and baloons over the windows in front of my matress. The cooks made us tofu and vegetables for lunch, and baked from scratch an incredible carrot/fruit cake with white icing and happy birthday written on it. For dinner, World Teach took everyone out to Sadie's, a very nice restaurant near the harbor in Fagotogo. It was my first real meal out since I arrived in Tutuila, and it was just nice to drink wine and eat grilled swordfish with a baked potato and vegetables. After dinner, we went to the bowling alley, which doubles as a nightclub, bowled one game, and hit the dance floor for several hours. The club at the bowling alley is kind of sketchy- it is packed with American Samoan men trying to grab your arm as you walk by and trying to get you to dance with them. When you do dance with them, there is almost no personal space. The dance floor is crowded and sweaty and there is almost no ventilation- the few fans in the place are pointed away from the dance floor (one of a long list of things on this island that may never make sense to me). You can hardly get to the bar, and if you do, you cannot dance with a drink in your hand- I was not so politely escorted off of the dance floor while drinking my first and only drink of the night of my 26th birthday- because I was there to dance. It was a really fun night. At some point, a straggler from the Pacific Arts festival from the Solomon Islands gave me and my friend a traditional wooden carving of a monkey, which was a great gift to receive. The ride to the club was surreal- we rented our own bus for the night, and it drove us at night, curving around the ocean next to the mountains. You can sort of make out the waves in the dark and it is spectacular. I love celebrating my birthdays in new, interesting and fun places with people I care about, and this was one of my best. I had an incredible 25th year, and I think this year could be just as good or better. I could reminisce about New York right now, and my last year there, but I think I will save that all for another journal entry- my final farewell to New York- something I've been planning to write for awhile. That city and my time spent there meant more to me than most people in my life will ever know.
The journey continues. The past two weeks have been filled with lessons, dancing, hanging out at the compound and watching DVDs on the large projector in the common area classroom, swatting at mosquitos and roaches, dealing with the rat, getting used to cold-water showers and cold-water-only laundromats!, taking long walks to nowhere and also to the grocery store at least once a day, trying to find healthy alternatives to the not-so-healthy food they serve here, riding happily in the back of pick-up trucks, taking long busrides next to the ocean, staring at the mountains, swimming in the Pacific, journaling, reading The Kite Runner (amazing book- I couldn't put it down), trying to make sense of a place that doesn't make sense to me, and that I think the American Samoans are still trying to figure out themselves, starting to see some of the problems we had heard about before arriving, and thinking about teaching. I can't wait to start teaching. I have so many ideas. I don't know what levels of math I will be teaching, or if there will be English classes in there, but I don't care. I know that I will have very few students- less than ten- and that that will enable me to do a lot with them. I don't even feel nervous about it, just anxious to start and get my bearings on the new island next week.
Last week we took a day trip to $2 beach, a beautiful strip of beach on the east side of the island. We climbed on the rocks and waded out into the ocean- the tide was low and the coral is ever present and high, so it's hard to jump into a swim in most areas. I did manage to scrape my legs up badly on some coral reef when I walked into it- I was lucikly able to keep my digital camera from getting wet, at the expense of my shins, which still have scars everywhere. The water here is saltier than any other water I've been in. The first time we went swimming, one of the volunteers said that the water tasted salty, and I made fun of him (of course ocean water is salty!)- but it really is!
There are already many frustrating things about living on this island. Everyone is on their own relaxed time schedule. There is no planning. Things that are planned get changed, and nothing is communicated. On more than one occasion, we have had to leap out of bed in the morning and get dressed for a meeting with the department of education, which noone had ever told us about. Nobody here exercises. When my friend and I take walks every day, several cars will stop and ask us if we would like a ride. That is very, very friendly and considerate, and sometimes we do want a ride, but mostly we don't. It became clear right away that they do not understand walking for exercise. Everyone here drives everywhere, even a five or ten minute walk to the store. People just sit around all day- you pass streets and everyone is sitting outside doing nothing. I haven't figured out why, yet. There are some theories, but I think that a lot of people do not work- but I don't think it is for lack of jobs.
I already care about the kids here. They are up against so, so much. They have huge identity crises which is the main cause of suicide in the Pacific island countries. They have family obligations that I still don't understand, and they have no outlet for their anger- they are forbidden to talk back to adults or make their feelings known. Adults take out their aggressions on their children. Education takes a second seat to family obligations and festivities. School is important on the surface, but there is a huge gap between the want for one's kids to do well, and making sure it happens. They are growing up in a bilingual culture- spoken Samoan and teaching in English. The kids in Manu'a especially are left behind when it comes to education. I am hoping to be a part of what changes that. My fellow Manu'a volunteers and I have already spoken with a non-profit here geared towards getting kids to go to college, about starting SAT prep classes out on the island for the high schoolers- I can't wait. The kids here dream about getting off "The Rock," and we want them to know that there are other options besides the military. Many kids here do go to college, but not enough. There is a community college on the island,which is a great start. After leaving, many of them come back to live, which I find to be a great thing. What is important to me is that they know they have options besides the military and death. What they choose from there is out of our reach. The conclusion about the kids here is that they are being constantly torn in several different directions, and they probably can't decide what to do at any given moment. I feel for them and I want to help. That being said, there are kids like this in every country all over the world. It is not easy to be a teenager.
After being served red meat almost every day for the first two weeks, I started to have an aversion towards it and quickly began finding substitutes. Once we found hummus at the Cost-U-Less, I have gone once a week to get more and had at least a few scoops every day for at least one meal every day. I mix it with salsa or carrots or whatever. Since our cooks left, we have been fending for ourselves at the compound, sans stove or oven. Every morning I have oatmeal and/or cereal. I have tried as often as possible to buy lettuce and make salads for everyone. We even found stores that sell whole roast chickens! I eat an apple a day (which hopefully will keep the dogs or ghosts or roaches away!). But I'm nervous about Manu'a. If it's true that they eat fish every day, I can't wait. But there are no vegetables there and really no real grocery stores, so I hear. They eat fish, tarot, green bananas and breadfruit all year. The people on Manu'a, I've heard, are extremely healthy and likely skinnier than the Samoans that live here on Tutuila. So in that respect, I'm excited. But I'm nervous not to be able to eat veggies or salad for a year. I guess time will tell. We also don't know anything yet about housing. I've been told to be prepared for anything from sleeping mats on the floor to a queen size bed. We may or may not have running water and a stove. We were supposed to take a day trip out to the island this week, but after having our bags packed and ready on a moment's notice every day, the trip has still not happened (I should say, American Samoa has gotten us again!), because apparently we are trying to get the governor's plane to take us- why, I don't know. The same governor who was recently indicted by the FBI. How much more can this city remind me of Miami?
I know more than ever that I want to move to the west coast when I get back from travelling and living abroad. I don't know which city or which state, or what I will do there, but I feel this incredible draw towards it. Like the west coast is just more me and the life I want to lead. That being said, I want this year to go slowly- I'm in no rush for that next section of my life to start, even though I know where I want it to be.
For now, I am restless- we all are- for school to start and our real lives here to begin. As much as I have loved the compound, my personal summercamp, living on mattresses on the floor, sharing my life with insects and rodents, being woken up by dogs knocking over our outside garbage cans at 4am, roosters crowing at 5am, and my fellow volunteers, it's time to... wait, all of those things will probably be there on Manu'a as well. I'm not sure what next week will bring, but you can be sure I will post about my first view and thoughts about what has been called by many here one of the most beautiful islands, though remote and isolated, in the world- Manu'a.
Here's to my 26th year- may I stay as lucky in life as I have been for the past 25, and may some of my luck be distributed to my friends and family and the kids of Amerika Samoa who feel like the dice may not have rolled their way.