September 2003 Archives

There's one thing in Samoa that I will not miss and that is the coconuts that fall from the tree next to my house and land on my tin roof sounding like a massive bomb or something. It never fails to startle me. It's just so strange.

I'll be sitting at home, like now for instance. It's quiet and peaceful. The only thing I can hear is the pleasant whir of the fan and my fingers blazing acorss the keyboard and then, all of a sudden, out of nowhere KABOOOOOM!. It's sounds like WWIII has started over my fale. It's very unpleasant.

My friend Van returned from New Zealand bearing one of the nicest gifts I have ever received, a Good Grips® Pizza Cutter. It's so sweet considering how much I like to make pizza and how much of a pain it is to cut a pie with my ever dull Cutco® knife.

Thanks, Van!

I went down to the Hotel Insel Fermarhn this morning to watch NFL games with the boys, but when I got there, no one was around. I was a little late, I suppose. Insel picks up Armed Forces TV from American Samoa and shows NFL, NBA and all sorts of other American sports.

I managed to catch the last minutes of the 4th quarters of the Denver/Detroit and the NY Jets/Dallas games. I sat there, eating my pancakes and watching the games, but I can't really get into football. I'm even in a fantasy league with a few of the other PCVs. But for some reason, football doesn't seem real to me I'd much rather watch rugby. I never thought I'd say that. Even when I lived in Australia, I didn't like rugby.

Here in Samoa, rugby is different. It's like a religion. It's like football in Buffalo. It's the only show in town. Except it's really the only show out of town, since Manu Samoa, the national team, only plays 2 games a year at home, normally. They only played one this year because of the World Cup which is getting underway in Australia next month. Samoa is in a pool with England, South Africa and Uruguay, so they have their work cut out for them. I don't know how they will do, but I do know that this entire country will come to standstill to watch the matches.

It's amazing how out of touch I am with American sports. At the end of the game, FOX was running a promo for the MLB playoffs. I had no idea that they had even started, let alone that the Cubs were in there. Could this be their year? Go on, Cubbie fans. Let's hear you give a shout out to your boys.

[ I'm secretly hoping they win- ;-) ]

There might be a long debate amongst volunteers about which spot in Samoa is the most beautiful, but for my money, it's none other than Ole Moe Falls on the southwest side of Savai'i near the district of Palauli. It's like something the production designers from Fantasy Island could have built.

It's far off the main road. You have to ford a river, cross through a coconut plantation filled with cows, bulls, and horses, navigate a steep and muddy trail and then negotiate a rickety wooden ladder just to get there.

This picture was taken from the precipice above the muddy trail. It's an amazing site. What you can't get from the picture is the sound of the rushing water. It's all you can hear. You look in one direction and you can see the swaying palms of the plantation. In the other diection is this spectacular falls.

The water in the pool is great for swimming, although it's seriously chilly. Little streams of water flow down from dozens of tributaries around the circular pool. There are high ledges from where the brave at heart can dive into the pool.

Ole Moe is a must see if you come to Samoa.

If you've been scammed on eBay, as I have, you'll find this story on MSNBC really interesting.

I had my indentity stolen a few months back and it was a really unpleasant experience. You can read about it here. Also, the first time I tried to buy my new camera, the auction turned out to be fake. It wasn't too hard to discover the ruse, when the seller tried to change terms of the auction after I won. I alerted eBay and they shut the perp down. But I'm sure he'll be back.

eBay should be doing a far better job informing the public of the nature of the problem. But they won't. They won't because they are afraid to admit the extent of the problem. It's like in Fight Club when Edward Norton's character is talking about automobile recalls. There is a formula the companies follow. Basically if the cost of the recall is more than not doing one, they don't do the recall. So far, the damage done to eBay's image isn't great enough for them to step up and take some responsibility. It's really sad how corporate America works. It makes me ill.

EBay thief reveals tricks of the trade
Bob Sullivan, MSNBC, Sept. 24. He contacted me to brag, this e-mailer named Kenneth. Said he had seen a story I'd done called 'True confessions of an eBay criminal,' about a 15-year old who managed to steal a few thousand dollars online. And Kenneth was offended. 'He's an insult to each and every one of us scam artists,' Kenneth wrote. 'I could tell you stories.' And so he did. Kenneth claims he's spent the past two years as one of eBay's most notorious scammers.

If you want to see some wickedly good images of life in New York City, surf over to John Walder Photography. John is one of the most talented people I know. Then again, I don't really know that many talented people. Or that many people, come to think of it. All that aside, John does some really incredible stuff.

I know John from days suffering together as traveling photographers, going around California shooting little girls playing softball or whatever assignment we were sent to in some backwater town in the middle of nowhere. Right before I moved to Samoa. John took off for NYC to pursue his art. Go check out his work.

* * *

Because my wife likes them, cats are also part of my life, and, for many years, as a thoroughly pragmatic and practical man who prefers lint to cat hair and dust to cat litter, I've been seeking a rationale that will allow me to live happily with three cats (not to mention two dogs) while also justifying the expense of cat food, neutering bills, feline toys, claw-trimming bills, carrying cases, and yet more vet bills.

Well, thanks to a fascinating article that I printed out (but forgot to read until recently) way back in the 18 March 2001 edition of the UK's Electronic Telegraph, I think I'll now start house-sitting cats gladly because they may well contribute to longevity and skeletal health.

You see, researchers have discovered that cat purrs are the secrets to their nine lives. And if the purrs are healing our feline friends, then those wonderful little sound engines that turn on so nicely when a cat snuggles into a lap must also be sending good healing vibes into the bodies of those who pet and hold them.

Mihi placent, O Pincerna!
Virent ova! Viret perna!
Dapem posthac non arcebo.
Gratum tibi me praebebo.

In the realm of the "really important news for former Classics students" comes the story that two professors from the University of Kentucky have translated the Dr. Seuss classic, Green Eggs and Ham into Latin. Green Eggs follows such greats as Winnie Ille Pooh and Alice in Wonderland as books deemed worthy of being finessed into the ancient Roman language.

You can find the full story on Yahoo! here

If only they could translate it in Samoan. Then someone might actually read it.

President Bush's plans to drastically inflate volunteer numbers around the globe got a kick in the pants today with the launch of a new ad campaign complete with an overhaul of the Peace Corps website. The theme of the new campaign is "Life Is Calling. How Far Will You Go?"

The Peace Corps is committed to doubling its ranks within five years. Current enrollment totals about 7,000. Actors Matthew McConaughey and Eduardo Verastegui provide voiceovers in English and Spanish, respectively. If Matthew McConaughey can't convince people to sign up, who can?

The new website, with the same theme, was redesigned by Threespot Media. You can read the full story about the redesign here.

Here is the full story about how the new commercial was created by Omnicom's BBDO in Atlanta.

After much wrangling with Polynesian Air over a delayed/rescheduled flight, Jennifer hit the friendly skies and headed back to California. It was great fun to have a visitor and to show off the beauty of Samoa. I know it's a long way to come, but hopefully I will get a few more guests during the remainder of my service.

Last night we had a great farewell dinner. We made grilled/seared yellow fin tuna marinated in soy, honey and dijon, stuffed peppers with fresh parmesan, steamed broccoli and carrots infused with rosemary and ate sashimi while we preparing it. I made cranberry vodka cocktail in coconuts which were a gift from my family (we visited them on Sunday). For desert it was white and milk chocolate ice cream (Cadbury's) with almond slivers.

The rain has been pelting Apia in the last few days signaling the end of the cool/dry season and the return of the wet/hot season in Samoa. Yachts are slowly leaving Apia Harbor for safer anchorages around the Pacific. A couple of centipedes have decided, quite unwisely, to use my flat as a thoroughfare. They were Mortein'ed to death mericlessly. Pretty soon rivers will fill up again, blood sucking skeeters will be flittering around and the oppresive heat will be making everyone say, vevela tele le aso or "the day is incredibly hot."

I've been wanting to cook up some kind of banana bread for a long time now. We have such fantastic bananas here in Samoa. It's such an obvious thing to bake.

The catalyst was Jen's cache of semi-sweet chocolate chips and walnuts from Trader Joe's. Paleni also provided the secret to making super sweet banana mash which is to freeze the bananas and then let them soften up into a fermented mush.

The bread tastes as good as it looks. Here's the recipe for anyone who wants to make it at home.

BANANA NUT CHOCOLATE CHIP BREAD


Amount Measure Ingredient -- Preparation Method
-------- ------------ --------------------------------
1/3 c Butter or margarine,
-softened
3/4 c Sugar
1 ea Egg
1 c Mashed banana
2 c All purpose flour
2 1/2 ts Baking powder
1/4 ts Baking soda
1/2 ts Salt
1 c Chopped pecans (or walnuts)
1/2 c Chocolate chips (or more if
-desired
1/2 c Buttermilk

Preheat oven to 350F. Cream butter and sugar. Mix in
egg and banana. Stir together flour, baking powder,
baking soda, salt, nuts and chocolate chips. Add this
mixture to creamed mixture alternately with
buttermilk. Stir until just blended. Pour batter into
a greased and floured loaf pan (9x5x3 inches). Bake
for 65 minutes, or until bread tests done. Cool in pan
for about 5 minutes, then turn out on a wire rack.
Makes 1 loaf. Source: "Muffins, Nut Breads and More"

My sister Marni and her long time boyfriend Paris are going to tie the knot in November and I couldn't be more thrilled for both of them. They're a great couple and this has been long, long overdue. I wish them the best of luck.

One of the best things about this event is that I get to go home to see the ceremony. It will be really nice to spend some time with all my family members (especially Marn) and my few friends in the Bay Area. I never thought I want to go home durng my Peace Corps stint. My traveling heart is telling me I'd rather spend the time in Vanuatu or Micronesia, but I'd never forgive myself if I missed the first wedding among my siblings. This just can't be missed.

See you all in November!

If you make the drive back from the southeast coast of Upolu to Apia, you'll come across a section of Samoa covered in massive Banyan trees or Aoa in Samoan.

They look so out of place here. They look alien. You'd expect to see them on the plains of Africa. Not here. This is probably why they are so damn cool.

The Aoa is a member of the fig family. It's a killer tree. If you've ever seen pictures of Ankor Wat in Cambodia with the tree roots strangling the massive stone blocks, you have a good idea of what I'm getting at.

Banyans actually grow down from seeds planted in the top of "host" trees by birds. The Banyan anchors its roots in the dead leaves at the heights of the tree and then slowly makes it way down to te ground. By then the fate of the host tree is set as the Banyan takes over and strangles its host to death, leaving this incredbile looking conglomeration of branches, roots and leaves.

Want to learn more about Samoa's Banyan trees? Check out the Natural History Guide To American Samoa

Jen and I went to Matareva Beach on the south side of Upolu. We grabbed a beach fale and were quickly adopted by a perfect little tuxedo kitty we named Laulaufaiva which means "tongue" in Samoan.

Laulau almost always had her tongue hanging out her mouth like a dog. Somebody must have been treating her really well, because she was really clean and incredibly affectionate. Really a nice cat.

About a week ago, I heard a news story on Radio Polynesia about a "new" ferry making the trip from the Savai'i to Upolu. The boat, called "Lady Ursula" supposedly had a departure from Savai'i at 4:30pm. This was great news because previously the last boat left the Big Island at 2pm which meant if you were staying in Manase on the top end of Savai'i, you'd have to be on the bus at 10am to make it to the wharf in Salelologa in time to make the ferry. Kinda ruined the day.

I went down to the tourist office in Apia, but they hadn't heard anything about the new boat. They called around and got a number for me, but when I called I couldn't get any information. I didn't have any more luck at Mulifanua wharf on Upolu. Oh, well, it looked like we were just going to have take there 2 o'clock back because we couldn't risk getting stuck in Salelologa.

Oddly enough, it turned out not to matter as we got a lift to the wharf early in the morning on Friday. However we managed to miss the "slow boat" Lady Samoa II by a few minutes and were forced to buy tickets on the new "even slower" boat, the aforementioned Lady Ursula.

If only I knew then what I know now, I never would have stepped foot on that bucket. The ferry ride was one of the worst I've ever been on. Even seeing a school of dolphins swimming alongside us didn't even come cluse to make up for the maritime nightmare.

I'm not prone to getting seasick. I've only "chummed" once before at sea. That was on an incredibly rough ride between Haifa and Cyprus. Everyone was spewing their guts out. It was disgusting. I fought it as long as I could, but some time in the middle of the night, with my stomach doing convlusions, I thought it best to finally give in. I felt much better afterward, but it wasn't any fun during.

Cut to the present moment.

I probably shouldn't have eaten half a block of New Zealand cheddar cheese ("suitable for the all the family's needs") right as we left the harbor. I didn't throw up, but only because I fought it the whole miserable trip.

The boat was going so slowly (the trip ran well over 2 hours) that there was barely enough breeze to blow away the exhaust. The combination of the fumes and the little, top-heavy boat, doing figure-eights in the high seas would test the hardiest of stomachs.

Every few minutes, the boat would shutter and then shake violently. Add in a large quantity of cheddar cheese ("suitable for the all the family's needs") and you've got a recipe for disaster. I stared at the horizon line and tried not to think about up-chucking.

When the dolphins came, I couldn't even take a picture, because as soon as I looked away from the line of the sky meeting the sea, my stomach would start doing flips like Olga Korbut.

I was so happy to get off that damn boat with the contents of my stomach in situ. It's going to be a long time before I go back to Savai'i.

Fao Fao puts on one the best fiafia's in Samoa which is highlighted by a wicked Siva Afi or Fire Knife Dancing.

Fire Knife Dancing has become synonymous with Samoan entertainment even though it is not a part of the original Polynesian culture. The fire was first introduced to the traditional ailao knife dance by Olo Letuli in 1946 when he became bored of his usual routine.

The addition of fire is spectacular, especially when done really well as it at Fao Fao. I was able to get some interesting shots with new digital camera because of my ability to control the both the shutter speed and the aperture. I wish I had brought my tripod with me, but I think the hand held results are decent.

I think you can safely files stories entitled, "Tourism a Huge Threat to Global Environment", under "Duh!"

As more and more people have the wherewithal to travel beyond their borders to check out the wonder that is the rest of the world, they tend not to follow the backpackers motto of "leave only footprints and take only pictures". Nor do they follow the golden rule as in treat another country as you would treat your own. (Or maybe, they do, which would explain a lot about where you come from).

Travelers, tourists, visitors, whatever, tend to treat other countries like garbage dumps. Tourists sites around the world are littered with rubbish. We've been hearing for years about trash left behind by climbers at Everest base camp. I've been some awful stuff in my travels from pits full or plastic waters bottles in Thailand to totally wrecked coral reefs in Indonesia to piles or trash left by pilgrims on Mt. Sinai (Yes, that Mt. Sinai).

Everywhere you look you'll find examples of tourism destroying the environment and you don't need fancy multi-million dollar investigations or UN sponsored reports to see it.

And this is just the phycial damage. The psycological impact is probably far worse. The damag sone to indigenous culture by the pollution of western media is immeasurable and, sadly, irrevocable.

The big question is what is to be done about it. Certainly, you're going to have a hard time stopping tourists.

You can read more about it here:

Tourism Impacts - UNEP Tourism

Tourism a Huge Threat to Global Environment

Yesteryday, almost nobody came to the visit American Idle. There were only 3 unique visitors when I usually average about 30. I guess people had better things to do on September 11th. It will be interesting to see what happens next year.

Lila's puppies are growing up quickly and moving around all over the place. It's becoming increasingly difficult for me not to want to adopt one of them. I've even named one of them, the little girl in the top left. Her name is Esi, which means "papaya".

I brought her into the house to how the kittens would react to her. Suffice it to say, they weren't thrilled. They sat wide-eyed and stared at this little, harmless quivering puppy like it was the anti-christ. If Esi moved to close to either of the kittens, they would his at her as if she meant to do them harm, or was capable of doing them harm. In truth I'm having to keep the cats away because I'm worried one of them night scratch her with their razor sharp claws.

I suppose it's going to take some time to acclimate the kittens who are wary of all dogs, and thankfully so, since it makes me worry much less about them when they are outside and dogs are howling away. I know the cats won't get close to them.

They must be afraid of Esi because, depsite her pint size, she smells like a dog. To me, she smells incredibly sweet and is so soft. I don't know if I can handle a dog at the moment, but I could take one, it would definately be her.

MY DEAR COLVIN, - This is a hard and interesting and beautiful life that we lead now. Our place is in a deep cleft of Vaea Mountain, some six hundred feet above the sea, embowered in forest, which is our strangling enemy, and which we combat with axes and dollars. I went crazy over outdoor work, and had at last to confine myself to the house, or literature must have gone by the board. NOTHING is so interesting as weeding, clearing, and path-making; the oversight of labourers becomes a disease; it is quite an effort not to drop into the farmer; and it does make you feel so well. To come down covered with mud and drenched with sweat and rain after some hours in the bush, change, rub down, and take a chair in the verandah, is to taste a quiet conscience. And the strange thing that I mark is this: If I go out and make sixpence, bossing my labourers and plying the cutlass or the spade, idiot conscience applauds me; if I sit in the house and make twenty pounds, idiot conscience wails over my neglect and the day wasted. For near a fortnight I did not go beyond the verandah; then I found my rush of work run out, and went down for the night to Apia; put in Sunday afternoon with our consul, 'a nice young man,' dined with my friend H. J. Moors in the evening, went to church - no less - at the white and half-white church - I had never been before, and was much interested; the woman I sat next LOOKED a full- blood native, and it was in the prettiest and readiest English that she sang the hymns; back to Moors', where we yarned of the islands, being both wide wanderers, till bed- time; bed, sleep, breakfast, horse saddled; round to the mission, to get Mr. Clarke to be my interpreter; over with him to the King's, whom I have not called on since my return; received by that mild old gentleman; have some interesting talk with him about Samoan superstitions and my land - the scene of a great battle in his (Malietoa Laupepa's) youth - the place which we have cleared the platform of his fort - the gulley of the stream full of dead bodies - the fight rolled off up Vaea mountain-side; back with Clarke to the Mission; had a bit of lunch and consulted over a queer point of missionary policy just arisen, about our new Town Hall and the balls there - too long to go into, but a quaint example of the intricate questions which spring up daily in the missionary path.

Thus begins the first of the Vailima Letters, written by Robert Louis Stevenson while living at Villa Vailima, the grand mansion of the great Scottish author who came to Samoa at the end of his life.

Stevenson, his wife Fanny (and American he met in Paris), and an entourage that included her children from a previous marriage, arrived in Apia, in 1889. Tusitala or "teller of tales", as he was known locally, was in search of a climate that would help him cope with his tuberculosis. He chose Samoa as much for the weather as for the regular ships that came and went that would be his lifeline to his publishers back home.

Today, Jen and I went to visit this house, which is now a museum. The house is magnificent though somewhat Disneyfied in its beautifully restored state. The house is surrounded by a massive swath of grass cut out of the jungle as described by RLS in the above letter. For 15 tala you get an half hour guided tour of the mansion.

After the tour, we hiked up to the top of Mt. Vaea where Stevenson is buried. There are two paths to the top and as walked up the "quick" path, I couldn't help feeling sorry for the poor guys who had to drag the body up to the top of the mountain. Supposedly, after he died the people of Upolu worked 24 hours non-stop to hack this path to the top of the hill so that the body could be buried the next day with full ceremonial privileges.

The white plaster grave at the top of the mountain bears the poetic inscription penned by RLS, himself:

Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie:
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.

This be the verse that you grave for me:
Here he lies where he longed to be;
Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
And the hunter home from the hill.

I'll have more pictures online soon.

You can read all the Vailima Letters here:

Project Gutenberg: Vailima Letters

Miss Samoa Pageant 2003 - 2004
Congratulations to Punipuao Cilla Brown from for being crowned Miss Samoa 2003 over the weekend.

What is she going to do as Miss Samoa? I have no idea. Presumably she'll do something like the previous Miss Samoa, Anita Jameson who worked at the Samoa Tourist office to promote Samoa and destination. She'll probably also work with a number of charities and organizations like Avanoa Tutusa which promotes equal rights for women. And, of course, she's going to represent Samoa in the Miss South Pacific Pagent.

Ms. Brown is 23 years from the island of Savai'i and has studied both in Samoa and New Zealand.

(from the original Moosewood Cookbook via Peter Haarsgaard)

Ingredients:
1 cup room temperature water
1 1/2 tsp active dry yeast
1 1/2 tsp salt
1 tbs honey or sugar (go with the honey - my addition)
2 1/2 to 3 cups flour
olive oil

1) Place water in medium sized bowl. Sprinkle in the yeast and stir in the honey until everything dissolves. (Let sit 5 minutes for the yeast to do its work)

2) Use a whisk to stir in salt and flour. When it gets too thick to whisk, mix with one floured hand. Knead in the bowl for anout 5 minutes (10-20 minutes is more like it if you want the best results. Also 3 cups of flour ain't going to cut it unless you want the stickiest dough on the planet. Just keep adding flour until the dough feels like more like dough and less like paste)

3) Brush a little olive oil on the dough. Cover the bowl and let rise in warm place until double in bulk. About 1 hour.

4) Punch it down and flatten by hand or roller into a nice pizza crust (I like to put a little olive oil around the edge and let it ooze around the perimeter of the pizza. This ensures two things. One, that the pizza will have a nice crispy crust. Two, you can remove the pizza from the pan without a hammer and chisel)

5) Bake at 450 F for 15-20 minutes (Presumably, you'd put the toppings on before you slapped the thing in the oven, but the people at Moosewood don't specify, so it's up to you. I'm the sort of guy who likes my cheese melted, so I prefer toppings on before cooking. The time is really a guideline. I look for a browning/bubbling of the chesse, then yank the pizza out of the oven, let it cool for a few minutes and slice away.)

The plan was to get home by 6 o'clock, make a pizza for dinner and veg in front of the TV for the 3-4 hours of the Miss Samoa contest. Unfortunately, TV Samoa (now called SBC One) didn't show it. Instead they showed some movie about a Mormon missionary in Tonga.

The contest was on the radio, so Jen and I listened in true 1950s style. But the pagent has so many visual aspects which the radio can hardly do justice, so when the pizza was ready, we slipped a movie in the VCR and turned down the volume on the radio.

As of right now, 6:19am (I can't sleep), I still don't know who won. The Miss Samoa 2003 website has not been updated so far this morning and probably won't be all day because it's Sunday. I'm waiting for the news to come on the radio at 7.

The pizza was 4 cheese (mozzarella, cheddar, edam & blue) with tons of rosemary, both in the crust and on top. Since I ran out of the pizza sauce from Trader Joe's that my brother sent me, I went with Prego that I bought on sale at MD's Big Fresh. It was a decent pizza, but it's going to be so much better when my spice garden is producing fresh rosemary, oregano and basil (see below).

I'm fascinated by the lives led by other Peace Corps volunteers around the world. I scour the Internet, reading web logs, journals and all sorts of info about PCVs. I've read most of the stories in the officially published Peace Corps books, like, "The Great Adventure", but they are all some damn positive, they don't seem real.

When I came across Souvenirs de Nancy in the PC bookcase, I knew immediately I found a little gem of a book. It's a very sad story about a volunteer, Nancy Coutu who was raped and murdered in Madagascar the mid 1990s. The book contains both entries from her journal and letters that she wrote home to friends, family and her World Wise Schools Class.

It almost feels voyeuristic to read through the personal thoughts of a deceased Peace Corps volunteer. If it were me, I don't think I'd want anyone combing through my journals after my death. But the writing is so insightful and Nancy is so full of life that you almost forget the tragedy that is waiting for you at the book's end and instead you are carried along on her journey of discovery about herself and the culture of her small village in Madagascar.

Nancy's experience is both so similar and incredibly foreign. All Peace Corps volunteers around the world share a few common experiences despite the incredible range of countries where they live and work the perform. All suffered through the application. All were probably surprised at the opulence of the hotel chosen for the Staging event that takes place in the 2 to 3 days before departare. All go through training in country in language and cuture. All cope with the coming and going of other volunteers. All get dropped off at their site and start to fend for themselves and make a new life.

Nancy's life in Madagascar is so diametrically opposed to mine. No electricity. No runnung water. No amenities at all. Very distant from the closest town. Her village is even

"I'm helping the village where I live in with stuff like rebuilding the school and hospital that got hit by cylcones last year, and planting trees and vegetables. The village is called Bereketa, which means "Big Cactus", and it's 47km from the nearest town, which I bike to every other week for flour and sugar and to see other volunteers. (The bike ride takes about 5 hours, s the road is all dirt.) There is no electricity or running water in the village and the houses are mud huts with thatched roofs. Mine is an extravagant three-room hut, which is actually huge here. We go down to the river to get water, and see at night with kerosene lamps. We grow rice and vegetables by the river for our food. This is my life for two years. No English spoken here whatsoever." (November 10, 1995)

A few weeks before I left for Samoa, I was dragged by a friend of mine to a Toastmasters meeting in Santa Cruz, CA. I'm not a big fan of public speaking, but Karen had been raving about Toastmasters for months now and I was curious to see what it was all about.

There were speeches, of course, and announcements. There was a word for the day that the speakers were supposed to incorporate in their talks (I can't remember the word), and encouragement to all the guests (there were two others besides myself) to join up. Then there was the spontaneous speeches, where people were called up from the audience to talk for a few minutes about something, anything really.

I was called on, and having no clue what to talk about, I crapped on about my plans to build a spice garden at my house in Samoa where I will be serving as a Peace Corps volunteer. The speech went over well, I think. I didn't win the contest for best spontaneous speech, and I might have finished first in the number of "um's" and "uh's" (they actually have some guy counting), but people seemed to like what I had to say, even laughed a few times.

The arrival of my friend Jen brought many changes in my life, not the least of which is a knockoff George Forman grill that was gift from my dad (Thanks, Dad!). I put it to work right away.

We went to Lucky Foodtown and picked up a few sirloin steaks. The beef in Samoa is really good and not at all expensive. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing it's heavily subsidized. I marinated the steaks in soy sauce, honey, salt, pepper, ginger and garlic and then "grilled" them up on my new electric grill. The results: damn tasty.

Last night, the Samoan Fale at the Kitano Tusitala Hotel was packed for the 4th annual Miss Tutti Frutti Pagent. By the time Jen and I arrived around 6:45, there were more cars in front of the Kitano than I have ever seen in one place in Samoa. There was a line out the door. I haven't waited in a line for almost anything in the last 10 months, so it was really odd.

Inside the hotel, there were so many sweaty people, you had to walk to sideways to get through the crowd and even then it was difficult. Jen and I and slithered through the left side to the back and found a place at the bar with a great view of the stage, but it turned out to be a huge mistake.

We had people contantly moving back and forth in front of us. We had three obnoxious and obviously drunk guys standing next to us, yelling obscentiies at the contestants and then Jen accidentally knocked over one of their drinks and it spilled down my back.

So what was the big deal? Well, let me tell you. This contest, run by the Samoa Fa'afafine Society, is sort of a send up of the extremely serious Miss Samoa contest that takes place at the end of the Teuila Festival.

So what's a fa'afafine, you ask? Well, let me tell you. I think you can understand it best by breaking down the word into two parts. The second half, fafine, means "woman". The prefix, or fa'a, means either "way of" or "like". With the additional knowledge that fa'afafines are men, you should have a good idea of what's going on here. If not, I'll spell it out for you.

These folks are transvestites.

But transvestites in Samoa are different than any place I've ever been. They are accepted into Samoan culture and society without question. They work in the government. They are some of the most popular teachers in secondary schools around the country. And they are highly valued in most Samoan families for their ability to perform equally the roles of men and women.

There are a few similarities between fa'afafines and transvestites in the rest of the world, not the least of which is a flair for the flamboyant and the ability to put on an incredible floor show.

13 contestants lined up to vie for the title of Miss Tutti Frutti 2003. The pagent was divided into several categories including undergarments, dressing like fruit, talent, which was mostly lip synching (as if dressing like fruit isn't talent enough), evening wear and the interview, where contestants asked questions of each other and the audience howled with the increasigly crude question.

Jen and I ended up watching from the back, standing on top of a massive upturned plastic flower pot. We could see. but it was a struggle and after a few hours I was ready to leave, but we stuck it out to the end to see "Miss A&M Consulting" crowned Miss Tutti Frutti.
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The proceeds of the Miss Tutti Fritti contest are used to help the elders staying at the Mapuifagalele rest home and raise HIV/AIDS awareness.

In the wee hours of the morning, I made my way down to Faleolo Airport to pick up Jennifer, my first, and hopefully not last, visitor. For some reason most planes that arrive and depart Samoa do so in the middle of the night. Jen's flight was due in at 1:40am, but with delays in Hawaii, the plane didn't touch down until close to 4 and we didn't arrive at my place until after 5.

Jen had slept on the plane. I had tried to nap, but failed, so I was exhausted all the next day (today). We went into town because I had a meeting at the Peace Corps office. Then I took her to the Steakhouse for lunch to sample the best burger in the South Pacific.

We've got three weeks to get out and explore the islands. I'm really in no rush. We're just going to relax around Apia for the first few days, enjoy the last days of the Teuila Festival, let Jen can get over her jetlag and figure out an itinerary.

A massive eathquake rocked Apia in the early morning hours yesterday. I was working on the computers in the Peace Corps office at about 7:30 in the morning when the place started vibrating like mad. The shaking didn't stop for about 20 seconds or so. I haven't heard if there was any major damage in the city, but I really hope not.

There was another volunteer who's from Arkansas in the office with me. He'd never been in a quake before. He wasn't freaking out or anything, but he's not exactly the most calm person to begin with, so it was funny to watch his reaction. He probably the same way I'd feel If I ever came across a tornado.

Myself, I've been in dozens of quakes having grown up and lived most of my life in California. The biggest was the Loma Prieta Quake in 1989 that shut down the World Series. I was on the beach in Santa Cruz, about 90 miles south of San Francisco at the time. I was thrown off my feet by the force of the quake.

Here is a link the US Geologic Survey's page about the quake which was centered near Tonga:

USGS Earthquake Hazards Program: Earthquake Report: TONGA

Pumpernickel Bagels Nutrition Facts Serving Size 1 Bagel 85g (Approx. 3 oz.) Servings Per Container 4 Amount Per Serving Calories 230 Calories from Fat 10 % Daily Value* Total Fat 1g 2% _Saturated Fat 0g 0% Cholesterol 0mg 0% Sodium 400mg 17% Total Carbohydrate 47g 16% _Dietary Fiber 3g 12% _Sugars 5g Protein 9g Vitamin A 0% • Vitamin C 0% Calcium 0% • Iron 25% Folic Acid 20% *  Percent Daily Values are based on a 2,000-calorie diet. Your daily values may be higher or lower depending on your calorie needs. INGREDIENTS: Enriched high-gluten flour (flour, malted barley flour, niacin, reduced iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid), water, pumpernickel flour, rye flour, caramel, malt, salt, sugar, fructose, onions, cornmeal,yeast, ascorbic acid

The outside was rougher than I would have liked because I couldn't knead the dough enough. It's too much work. Especially with this batch because the pumpernickel flour is so light that the dough needed 3-4 cups of regular flour just to keep it from being a sticky, impossible to work with, mess.

The flour was a gift from Lyn Netzler, the owner of one of the most popular stores in town. In exchange, all she wants is my recipe, which I would gladly give to her for nothing. If her bakery starts pumping out bagels, there are going to be some increibly happy palagis on this island. There might even be a few Samoans who could fall for the spell that bagels seem to cast on the most of the western world.

I don't think I'm going to stop making mine even if Lyn's starts producing them. It's just too much fun and so satisfying.

I love the government building. Something about its silouette is so striking that I can't help but take pictures of it.

It was built as a gift by the Chinese government a few years back and is far and away the most prominent landmark in Samoa. It's also where I work, so I come to it every day.

I can see it from where I live above the little airport. From there it looks like a castle out of a children's fantasy book. My camera just does't have the reach to take a decent picture of it from my house. But I'm getting a new digital camera in a few days with a massive 16x optical zoom (this is with the 2x teleconverter which makes it the equivalent of a 400mm lens on a 35mm camera).