Talofa lava!

Just an update that I'm alive and well in Samoa-- the internet, like many other things here, is slower and far more inconsistent than its American counterpart, so photos for the moment are out of the question, but hopefully I can upload some soon!

It was a massive adjustment to go from Hawai'i to Apia. After spending so much time exploring Honolulu, it became easy to convince myself that Samoa would be a mini Hawai'i-- it became apparent immediately that that was not the case. Samoa is one of the least developed countries in the world, and in terms of resources it's pretty obvious, but the social dynamics here don't seem to reflect that reality. While in Honolulu and any other resource-rich American city homelessness is everywhere, here there aren't homeless people and hunger isn't prevalent. It's a communal society, one in which everyone takes care of one another. To a Samoan, the idea of letting a person live on the street when you have room to spare in your home is blasphemous, and understanding that attitude has been both refreshing and humbling. And despite the lack of resources, people don't consider themselves poor. They just live simply, and they seem mostly happy with that fact. It's a constant reminder of what actually matters.

One of the biggest shocks has been the heat-- Hawai'i has breezes and cool nights while Samoa has intense heat and humidity that seeps into your bones. In certain desperate moments you wonder how people can reasonably inhabit this place, and how you'll continue to live here for 4 months. AC is a laughable luxury and most rooms don't have fans. At first it was completely overwhelming, but now my body is starting to adjust. I've mostly overcome my first Samoan sunburn! Still a bit of a contrast with the -15 degree Vermont winter that I left behind.

I'm increasingly thankful that I'm not squeamish in terms of insects, because I cohabit my room with lots of cockroaches, moths, wasps, termites, centipedes, and lizards, as well as the overflowing bathroom water from next door. Like I said, it's been an adjustment. The toughest thing to come to terms with is the emaciated dogs and cats that roam all over--they're seen as a nuisance here, in a similar way that an American might feel towards rats. We've taken a dog who we call Meile (which means dog, very creative) under our wing. She seems to be nursing puppies and you can count every single individual bone in her body; we feed her regularly and she's so sweet, but shhhhh, that's a big cultural faux pas.

People here are so friendly and welcoming-- it's a bit uncomfortable to come to terms with the fact that in this society, men will whistle and honk and pursue you very openly and loudly, but I just need to keep reminding myself that it's not personal. On a more positive side, that friendliness also translates to little kids coming up to me and yelling "PALAGI!" (white person) and laughing at my attempts to speak Samoan, and strangers engaging you in conversation and opening themselves up so wholeheartedly.

I'm still a bit nervous for the village homestay in Lotofaga that's coming up, but I know it's just going to be massive amounts of friendliness and food (unfortunately lots of fish and rice, and allergies aren't entirely understood here, but people are willing to stuff me full of non-fish and non-rice, so it's been fine so far). This trip so far has just been a consistent push outside of my comfort zone, and I know that it's going to continue, but the challenge has been so incredible. At one particular peninsula here, the ocean and sky stretch to the ends of the earth. Everything here is so beautiful and surreal, and the connection that people have to the earth and to each other is something that's entirely absent in our industrialized lives. The least "developed" countries seem to be the ones that have best maintained their roots and understand where they belong in the world.

I could go on forever about this place, but time to explore. Fa soifua!

-Sami (my Samoan name- ocean)

Laumei Lapopoa

This entire post is going to be dedicated to sea turtles, because what's more exciting than sea turtles? I almost get heart palpitations just thinking about the beauts that we saw on the North Shore, I was clearly the too-excessively-excited one of the group, but HOW COULD I NOT BE?! The turtles are protected by law (and turtle vigilantes that stand around and watch you when you walk near them) so you can't touch them, but they're perfectly content to lie next to you and lazily indulge your ecstasy and photoshoots.

We stumbled upon two of them, and Billy and Joe (our tour guides for the day) estimated that they were each around 80 from their sizes. They were so sweet and gentle and it's impossible to articulate how beautiful they were. Lying alone next to the female while the rest of the group was further down the beach and watching the waves crash is something that I'll never forget.

Living dinosaurs

So photogenic

Portrait of a mellow turtle and a borderline too enthralled ginger

Also, your useful Samoan phrase for your incorporation into mainland living of the day-- giant turtles are "laumei lapopoa." I've also learned to say, "'Ou te ma'i i i'a," which roughly translates to "Eating fish will kill me." With those two down, I'd say I have all of my Samoan staple phrases down.

I'm waiting on pictures from my friend Amy for my next post, so in the meantime emotionally prepare yourself.

-Ulu Afi (I promised Nick I'd sign out with this. It means Fire Head)

Hangin in Honolulu

Tomorrow will be my one week mark! We're still doing orientation in Hawai'i, I'm writing this from my hostel and the sounds of a Hawai'ian prayer circle singing traditional songs with a ukelele is floating through the bedroom window from next door. It's a bit difficult to articulate exactly how great our group of 12 is and how perfect Pacific living has been so far. The most overwhelming feeling of this all is, "This cannot really be America." 

The Hawai'i of Waikiki and the Hawai'i beyond the tourism are two entirely different places, and my eyes are being opened to so many issues that I never knew existed. Did you know that Hawai'i was annexed through force and against international law? Or that many Pacific islands are sinking into the ocean, that their groundwater becomes salinated so their crops fail and their people starve and that our government does nothing to aid them? Yeah, me neither. 

But while we're dealing with some heavy issues in class, we're still adventuring all over the place-- yesterday we harvested taro in a traditional lo'i (which translated to stomping around in the mud and learning about the Hawai'ian tie to the earth) and hiked Diamondhead. Life is wild here and the stars keep perfectly aligning for all of our adventures. So far Saturday was the most serendipitous day.

We had a late meeting time (10:30 am), so we all woke up and explored a bit on our own and got coffee. Also, I can't wake up any later than 7:30 am now, this place has made me a morning person, it's just too beautiful to sleep in. There's one park that we tend to gravitate towards, and we did some yoga and meditation next to my favorite tree. 

Aforementioned favorite tree bein' his bad self

Following our mini adventure we met an alumnus from the first ever SIT Samoa trip, Joe, and his friend Billy, who majored in Hawai'ian history and geology (a walking fairly-inappropriate history book). They were both hilarious and so welcoming and friendly--the two traits that completely encapsulate everyone I've met here so far.

We started out with a trip to an old battlefield on these beautiful cliffs that looked out to the whole harbor, and then we went to the Byodo-In Temple, which is a smaller scale replica of the temple of the same name in Japan, and it was built to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the entrance of Hawai'i's first Japanese immigrants (Hawai'i has a pretty diverse population). Not a single nail was used in its construction. Being an expert carpenter (I made an almost-functional bagel cutter in Woods I), I appreciated that detail.

Cloudy Honolulu from the top of the world

Frighteningly aggressive koi

My first underwater picture... hoping my skills become refined in Samoa

Our next stop was Laie Point, these beautiful cliffs near the North Shore. This was our first wildlife-spotting, we saw some crabs and then lucked out when a fisher caught an octopus and let us play with it-- he inked on Billy, and I was in the splatter zone.

Billy's war wounds

Commemorating my first inking

After we left Laie and washed off our ink, we stopped at a local fruit stand to eat some crazy thangs that I'd never heard of (dragon eyes were my personal favorite), and then went to the beach at Pipeline. We ended up lucking out and there was a huge surf competition going on-- the famous surfer Kelly Slater walked right by us (with an embarassingly small dog and a very shiny bald head). And the best part (besides the killer waves) was that we were literally sitting in Jack Johnson's backyard for the whole thing, so you know it was paradise.

Jack Johnson's lair in the background

That day concluded with a wildly exciting thing that's deserving of its own post, so once I get enough focus to tear myself away from Hawai'ian happenings again I'll post those pictures. Now I'm getting ready to go to a surf movie premiere tonight (where Jackie J will also be), so aloha my palagis!

Pre-Departure Mayhem

I'll be jetting off for Samoa in less than two weeks, which seems a bit surreal at the moment. The bedlam of pre-departure has been keeping me busy, though. For the past month my life has revolved around:

Traveling.
Because why not pack your last month at home with driving all over America? So far this month I've supplemented time at home in New Jersey with trips to DC and Charleston, and now I'm in Massachusetts visiting my boyfriend, while later in the week we're going to his mom's house in Stowe to fit in some boarding before heading over to Saint Mike's for a final farewell.

South Carolina's got the prettiest trees you ever done seen.

Plenty of pretty flowers, too.

It's worked out well because most of my friends from home have already gone back to school or on their own respective journeys overseas, so if I wasn't shlepping around the continental US I'd probably be watching Lifetime movies right now.

Dealing with the Healthcare System (Negotiating the Red Tape: An Unexpected Journey)
I have an esophageal disorder and a small army of allergies, so I have a lot of doctors and prescriptions. There's a million things to prepare for a 4 month trip, especially when that trip is taking you to an island with resources a bit more limited than what the average American is accustomed to. Samoa's healthcare system isn't rudimentary, but it's not exactly advanced either, so it's required a lot of planning on my part.

My number one piece of advice--if you have a chronic illness/allergies/any kind of unique medical requirements and you're going abroad, start plotting out the details for that MONTHS IN ADVANCE. I thought I could work it all out over winter break and let me tell you, it's been a giant pain in the tuckus. For the past month I've been speaking with pharmacists/doctors/insurance agents and their voicemails on the daily.

It is incredibly difficult to get four months of any prescription advanced, and to get them from multiple doctors. Especially when any single prescription requires the cooperation of the pharmacists, your insurance company AND your doctors. Plus the added hassle of getting approval from all of your doctors to go abroad and notes to bring with you so that customs agents don't stop you to question why exactly you have six inhalers on your person. As of right now, I THINK my meds are in order. I should be able to pick them all up on Wednesday if the universe decides not to plot against me, so fingers crossed.

So again, if you happen to be one of da illest people going abroad, work out all of your medical stuff waaaaay before your departure date.

Packing.
Okay, so I haven't exactly started packing in the more concrete sense of the word, but I've been planning.

Clothes have been mighty tricky. Samoa's a conservative Christian nation, so there's no above-the-knee shorts or revealing necklines, but it also happens to be incredibly hot. So what to do? Well, apparently most SIT students end up adopting the traditional lavalava, and because of the high humidity, most of the clothes I'll take over will end up molding (cute, right?) so any old t-shirts will do. And the normal swimming gear is just a t-shirt and shorts, which means there's never an excuse for not going for a dip-- you're wearing your bathing suit all the time! I'm still trying to figure out what to do for more formal wear (I'll be doing interviews during the last month for my Independent Study Project), but I'm hoping inspiration will strike me on that front sometime soon.

Lavalava in action. The goal is to pull it off as well as that bad boy on the right.

For homestay presents, I'm supposed to bring gifts that represent where I'm from. Maple syrup for Vermont? Mini oil refineries for New Jersey? I'm pretty lost on this one. It's also suggested that I bring something that the families can use pragmatically, like kitchen supplies or curtains. But how do I know what families in Samoa or Fiji or American Samoa need? The answer is-- I simply do not.
But even though I'm confused for the moment on the main presents, I'm stocking up on little presents to give to kids. Bubbles, coloring books, chalk, picture books, that sort of thing. The main concern there is just that my willpower doesn't break on the 11 hour flight to Hawaii and result in me coloring in all of the coloring books.

But gift-buying aside, going to check out the Oceania exhibit in the Peabody Essex Museum in Salem today. Here's hoping that I'll draw some packing inspiration from there.

-Mickey