Life In Samoa Archive

Here's the last picture taken of me in Samoa:

Departure Tax

I met Tile when I was kiliing time before my flight home. He was sitting in front of the boutique in the waiting lounge penning this amazing image of "Samoa."

It turns out he's quite an accomplished guy. There are wood carvings all over the airport. He's done them all. They are amazing. Highly intricate and huge. It must have taken him forever. His eye for detail is impressive.

Tile (pronounced "tea-lee") was so nice that he gave the piece he woking on. He even signed it me. This was my last taste of the incredible generosity of the Samoan people.

Tonight, I'm leaving the fair shores of the "Island of Beautiful People." It's been an interesting experience here. Samoa is a wonderful place. I leave behind many good friends and even more good memories.

Though Samoa is just a speck of a country in the middle of the vast Pacific, it has left a great and lasting impression on me. I've learned so much about life from the people here. The most important is the significance of family. I had to go thousands of miles away and live in a South Pacific paradise to do it, but I'm now closer to my family than at any time that I can recall.

Tofa Soifua, Samoa. If I'm lucky, I'll see you again soon.

(I'll explain it all when I get home.)

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.

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."

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

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.

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).

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.

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

The biggest cultural event in Samoa is the Teuila Festival in September, featuring choir singing, fire-knife dancing, parades, cricket tournaments, siva (traditional dance), fautasi (longboat) racing, the Miss Samoa contest, amongst other things.

If you were to spend a week in Samoa, this would be the time to do it. It's definately the most anticipated event of the year. I've been watching for months now as more and more yachts arrive in Apia Harbor. There are something close to forty now at anchor in the harbor. It's pretty impressive looking.

I'm really interested to see how the mood of the country changes during the week. Is my office going to slow down or shut down? Are there going to be swarms of people all over town?

I'm going to try too see and photograph as much of the events as possible. My friend Jennifer is coming on Wednesday with my new camers (Nikon Coolpix 5700) and I should be able to improve the level of my photography by a large order of magnitude.

The culmination of the festival is the Miss Samoa Pageant, whose theme for 2003 is "Samoa – Islands of Natural Beauty”.I haven't decided if I'm going to go or not. Tickets are 30 tala. It's going to be shown on TV Samoa, but I don't think it's going to be live.

Ok, so I've mentioned Mars a few times, but it is one of the most incredible thngs I've ever seen, so I suppose I can be excused.

Yesterday, at at 9:51 GMT Mars and Earth were only 55,758,006 km (34,646,418 miles) apart from center to center. This is the nearest the two planets have been in almost 60,000 years.

I don't what it looks like in your part of the world, but here in Samoa, where there are so many visible stars and they seem so close that you can almost reach out and touch the Milky Way, Mars stands out like a brilliant, orange beacon in the night sky. It's incedibly beautiful.

The picture to the left comes courtesy of the incredible Hubble Telescope.

You can find out more about the Red Planet at the NASA website

When I originally built American Idle, I had a section on it called, "Word of the Week". I built little flash movies to explain Samoan words. The idea was to have a new one every week (duh!), but I couldn't keep it up. It just wasn't sustainable and if I learned one thing being in the Peace Corps, it's the importance of sustainability.

Anyway, I don't want to give up on the idea entirely, because there are some really great Samoan words, and I want to share, because that's the kind of guy I am. I've been playing around with this idea of "Word of the Moment" for long time, and now I'm finally going to do something about it, so here it goes.

Pua'a, as you might already know from reading about keke pua'a means "pig" in Fa'aSamoa. It's got a glottal stop, which can be tricky to pronounce, so I'm going to teach you how to do it.

Think of the word "uh-oh". Say it outloud. Hear the pause in the middle. Now say "ah-ah" in the same way. Add "pooh", like the bear, in front. "pooh ah-ah". Now say it fast and you have pua'a. It's actually not that tough to say.

Now you want to make sure you don't accidentally say "pua'i", because that means "to barf", as in, malie le loto, sa ou pua'i i lou pua'a , which translates to something like, "excuse me, but I seem to have thrown up on your pig."

Fautasi boats are massive boats, with crews of 50 or so, that are raced a few times a year in Samoa. The races between villages are the highlight of Independence Day and the upcoming Teuila Festival. These boats are funded and campaigned by individual communities and the competition is quite fierce with crews training hard for months before major regattas. There is so much prestige for the winning village that the teams practice until they're exhausted and their hands are bloody with blisters.

For the last few weeks, a couple of boats in the Apia area have been practicing in the harbor. Some guy in the back of the boat is keeping the beat for the rowers by banging a drum which you can hear all over town. It's almost primal feeling to hear the beating of the drum as you see these huge boats flying across the water.

I've been trying to find more information about the boats online, but it's difficult to track anything down. I know that the boats are unique to the islands of American Samoa, Western Samoa and Tonga. They range in length from 90 to 105 feet or so and rowed from somewhere between 44 and 62 44 oarsmen and one helmsman. It's not a lot to go on, but it's something. I'm going to try to find out more at library some time this week.

I saw the races on Independence Day, June 4th. Hundreds of people were gathered 5-10 deep ll around the perimeter of our circular harbor to watch the finale of the race, which was something of an anti-climax because the race was shortened for some unknown reason and nobody knew when the boats were going to arrive.

I picked up a TV and a VCR from a departing PCV. I don't really need it. I have lived without a TV for a long time and could continue to do so indefinately. However, it is another good insight in the culture.

I have a remote control, but I can't exactly sit on the couch and channel surf. There's one channel here: Televise Samoa. (There is cable, but it's damn expensive) It's important that I keep track of the programming because it's the major water-cooler talk at the office.

TV Samoa shows some western programming, kids shows from Australia, "Ed", a few other various and sundry items. There's news from the BBC and New Zealand. There's lots of sports, but mostly rugby. There's a great music show on Sunday's called "My Kind of Music", which shows videos or concerts for an hour from one performer or group (last week: J-Lo). And there's a movie every night. It's not always great, but it's there.

TV Samoa is so small that I we can call up and request movies and they will played later in the week. How cool is that? I suppose the programming director just goes to the local video store and picks it off the shelf. I don't think there's much consideration about copyright issues.

Sarah, who sold me the TV, also left me a massive box of videos. Some movies. Some TV shows taped at home and sent here. A lot of crap, really. But there are two tapes of "The Sopranos" and I'm slowly going through the episodes. Bada Bing Baby!

Yacht Owners in Town
by Malia Sio and Josephine Nickel
18 August 2003

Couple Clive and Jane Green are in town with friends Niel and Brycea Meyer.
The couples have just come from the Northern Cooks, and will be here for our Teuila festivities.

They are part of some 30 yachts of all sizes moored inside Apia Harbor.

The Greens have been travelling from east to west and their next ports of call will be Tonga, Fiji, Australia and New Zealand.

Thecouple are both retired and plan to travel around for a while before settling down in England.

The Meyers however are on much younger and plan to sail around the world for another three years before they get back into work. Niel is an engineer while Brycea is a hotel operator.

The couples both commented on how friendly are people they’ve met so far.

“It would be difficult to say anything other then complimentary remarks about Samoa,” Mr Green said.

“The food is great and the prices are reasonable.” That is compared to say French Polynesia, where they traveled through.

“Samoa is a great place for shopping and eating out,” he added.

The yacht facilities down at the local wharf have also been satisfying for the couples. With showers and everything that the yachties need for the security of their boats.

They also pointed out that government should be mindful of the importance of yachties and the kind of money they inject into the local economy. This is compared to the regular cruise ship passenger who spends only hours in the country and while here, usually dine at the ship’s restaurants.

“We basically spend around $US500 ($1500) in a month, when we visit Apia. This is because we stay longer on the island, we buy supplies of food to fill up our yachts and we explore the restaurants, bars, and shops day and night and we always enjoy the church services on Sundays,” said Mr. Green.

He also added that they will be renting a car to take a sightseeing tour of the island next week.

“We give money straight to the grassroots of Samoa, because we buy fruits and handicrafts from the markets, we eat out at the restaurants and we shop around the many stores in town,” said Mr. Green.

The Greens say that they’ll be settling down soon, when they manage to sell their boat.

The Meyer’s yacht was built in South Africa and he says that Springboks beer is not as good as the local Vailima.

“We will always come back for Samoan beer eh,” he laughed.

The two couples will be staying over for the duration of the Teuila Festival and say that they will visit Samoa again.

Champ of Champs is one of the biggest sporting events of the year in Samoa. It brings together all the winning athletes from the secondary school district competitions all over the country.

I wanted to go and take pictures. The colorful outfits and all the excitement of the students in the would have been great to shoot. The venue, Apia Park, is also just down the way from the Peace Corps office. However it was raining so hard that it was going to be unpleasant for spectators and horrible for shooting.

I went to have lunch at the Steakhouse with a few other volunteers and found that the Champ of Champs was on television. So while we waited for our burgers, we watched this guy from Avele College blow the field away in the 800 meters.

On my way home on the bus, we passed Apia Park with soaked students streaming out of the stadium. Maybe next year it will be sunny.

Last night, I got a great surprise when my phone rang and on the other end was my mom.

I hadn't talked to her in about 10 months and it was so strange to hear her voice. I almost didn't recognize it at first, that's how long it's been. It was also the first call I've recceived from overseas. I'm very happy it was her.

She bought some kind of phone card that lets her call Samoa from the States for 29.5 cents a minute. That's reasonable, I suppose, but I bet there's some better deals out there. If anyone know of any, please lt me know.

I love my mom. It was really nice to catch up with her and hear her voice.

There's nothing really exceptional about this picture. It's your standard portrait of a mom and her son working at the family fale'oloa.

What I love about this shot is her t-shirt. Here's this woman wearing an "I want my Monterey Roast Beef Sandwich" from Jack in the Box in one of the most remote parts of Samoa on the island of Savai'i.

The thing is, this is hardly remarkable. I find Samoans wearing t-shirts like this all over the country. For a long time I wanted to start taking pictures of these people and their incongruous ofus.

I always wonder where these shirts come from and how they get to Samoa. My training host family had a bunch of them (which they made me wear). My favorite was the sleeveless Washington State University sweatshirt.

Tomorrow I'm taking off for the big island of Savai'i where I'm going to plant my ass firmly in the sand and do nothing for the entire weekend but eat, sleep, swim and lie in the sun (that is if the weather cooperates, which today, it is not doing). There's no computers, so no blogging until I'll get.

It's going to be my first real vacation where I've had nothing to do since I arrived in Samoa. The country is also being very cooperative - Monday is a holiday, so I don't have to be back to Apia for 4 days.

Monday (the 4th of August) is also my birthday (my brother's birthday too, incidentally - happy b-day, Brian). I'm turning 33. I don't feel 33. Not even close. It feels very odd to say that and even odder to write it and see the number staring at me in the face.

A number of people have expressed concern to me about the ability (or lack thereof) of the USPS to get packages to Samoa in a timely manner. This is a huge problem for us. But don't fear. If you want to give me a gift, and let's face it, you're chomping at the bit to do it, there are many ways you can achieve your goal:

1) Make a donation in my name to the Human Fund.
2) Go to a bar, have a few drinks and thank god you're not in the Peace Corps stuck on rock in the middle of the Pacific.
3) Send a few bucks to my account at PayPal and help me buy a new digital camera.

Fa'afetai lava to all of you who have already chosen option number 3.

I wasn't planning on it, but I went shopping today for new shirts. There's a store in town called CCK (stands for coffee, cocoa & kava, none of which you can buy at the store-go figure).

CCK is a two floor shop, new clothes on the bottom and used stuff upstairs. I head straight upstairs where there are a dozen racks of previously loved and incredibly cheap stuff.

I picked out four blue XL short sleeve button down shirts, which is mostly all I wear here. The best thing is that CCK takes credit cards. So I'm going to have a tiny charge on my bill and 4 new shirts in my closet.

A little goes a long way at C C K

Stacy, the Samoa CD, is out of the country, so I've been riding out town without a hemet with impunity, more or less. It's so great not to have that unwieldy brain bucket on my head which makes me feel even more than a freak than I already feel.

On Friday night I was walking by the National Cathedral along Beach Road with a few friends. It was raining. We we on our way to dinner at one of the local hotels. Instead we ducked into the cathedral where the National Youth Choir of Great Britain was performing.

Tickets were going for 50 tala (about 18 USD), but I knew someone at the door and we got in for 10.

The National Youth Choir (105 members strong) is well regarded, generally acknowledged to be one of the finest choirs of any kind in the world. This is blessing for the western-culture starved island of Samoa. This is the choir's first trip to Samoa on a world tour that also includes New Zealand, Australia, and Singapore.

The choir’s repertoire is vast, containing masterpieces from the past for massed voices and contemporary music from around the world including songs from Africa, from the Pacific rim and from all parts of Europe, as well as gospel and popular arrangements.

I couldn't get into the the first half of the performance. I was hungry and uncomfortable in the wooden pews of the cathedral. Then during the intermission, we stuffed our faces with egg and tuna salad sandwiches, mini meat pies and ginger mufffins. I felt great.

The second half of the concert was amazing. There were three pieces that I really enjoyed. The first was an arrangement of Billy Joel's "And so it goes". The second was something called "The Seagull" by Irishman John Hearne. For this song, the female members of the choir spread themselves around the perimeter of the church. The song was this man's impression of the flight of a seagull. Each woman sang a slightly different part of this rolling, mystical arrangement. It was haunting and gave me goose bumps. The last song I liked was a Zulu song called "Hamba Lulu" which was just pure fun.

It was a great night in Apia.

Last night, well for the last several nights really, I could easily make out Mars hanging about 10 o'clock in the northern sky. It's one of the brightest lights in the sky and it's bright orange, just like you'd expect it to be. Amazing.

For someone who grew up on Edgar Rice Burroughs' John Carter of Mars stories, this is really exciting. I have always been fascinated by Mars. I even have a Nat'l Geographic map of the planet hanging above my bed.

The viewing is only going to get better and better, according the obsevratory websites. The Red Planet is becoming well placed for observation and will be at its closest to the Earth for nearly 60,000 years in August. August 28th appears to be the best night for seeing Mars as a "full disc" in the sky. Not that matters for me, looking at it with my naked eye.

There is one telescope amongst the volunteers in Samoa, but it's rummored to be busted, out of alignment or something that renders it unusable. C'est la vie.

There's some really good information about viewing Mars on the Arkansas Sky Observatory website. The NASA site also is choc full of info, pics, etc.

It seems Chief Justice Patu Tiavaasu’e Falefatu has a full docket these days. There was a major drug bust at the Fagali'i airport. A 12-year old girl was nabbed with 9 bags of ganja attached to her person.

The airport where this happened is right around the corner from my house. I ride past it almost every day on my bike on my way to town.

It's just a simple airstrip surrounded by coconut palms and banana trees. There are pigs and chickens running around all over the place. It's hard to beleive that such nefarious activity (international drug smuggling) is taking place in such a bucolic setting.

This item appeared in the Samoa Observer recently:

Man charged with carnal knowledge By Mathew Lemisio 15 July 2003

A man appeared in the Supreme Court yesterday on a charge of carnal knowledge. Court documents identified the victim in this case as the accused’s sister-in-law.

Police sources also noted that there would be more people probably brought before the court on similar charges involving the same girl.

The victim in this case is a minor under the age of 14.

The accused had been remanded on bail to receive legal aid before reappearing before Chief Justice Patu Tiavaasu’e Falefatu on Monday, July 28th for mention.

This is a really horrible story, probably all too common here. The only unique aspect of it is that the man was actually caught.

On the other hand, I wish someone would charge me with carnal knowledge. That sounds like fun. (minus the fourteen year old sister-in-law part).

Would you buy Sars Cola? I don't think so. I wouldn't. But "Double Sars" cola on sale at Lyn Netzler's store in Moto'otua.

It's some kind or sarsaparilla, I think, but it hardly sounds refreshing about now, does it?

Here's an update on my Freecell addiction:

I've only managed 464 games since the 16th of June. That's about 18.56 games a day, roughly.

Despite my best efforts, I haven't been able to crack 88%. I've been struggling to keep it at that level. I had to win the last 19 in a row just to back from the 87% doldrums.

I think I need to win something like 400 games in a row to get up to 89%. That's fairly unlikely. In fact it would take a fucking miracle to get there.

Something very perpexling is happening in this country. Maybe someone out there can it explain it to me.

I just went and bought a block of edam cheese at one of the local markets. It was $9.95 for a 500g chunk. You can buy a 250g block for $5.25. This makes sense to me. Buy more, pay slightly less. However, if you want to buy the 1kg block, you're gonna pay $22.35. Huh?

What exactly are you paying for here? It must be the convenience of having your cheese in one simple container rather than having to juggle 2 unwieldly 500g blocks.

I was a lit major at university. I did take a few economics classes but we either didn't cover the economy of cheese or I fell asleep in class that day.

However, this is not isolated to just cheese in Samoa. You find odd pricing policies in markets all over the country for various products from mosquito coils to peanut butter.

You have to be savvy in this land of comparison shopping.

Despite recent drops in prices for Internet accounts, the cost of getting online in Samoa remains out of control. The main reason is that SamoaTel, the country's subsidized telecommunications provider is in the middle of a 5 year monopoly for Internet service.

Because of this exclusive arrangement, SamoaTel can pretty much charge whatever they want for service. Local ISPs like Samoa.ws and iPasifika have little choice but to charge rates that price most of the people in the country out of the market.

The real insidious part is not the online connection fees, it's the a "per megabyte" charges that can add up incredibly fast for someone like me who is used to having DSL and not paying much attention to quantity of downloads, only quality.

At this rate, Samoa is going to have an impossible time reaching its goals for universal connectivity.

Yesterday I was looking at the Geek Philoshper blog. I was admiring some of their clean fonts. I sent them an email to see if I could find out their names.

This morning I got a message back from Barbie who was sweet enough to email me her fonts and include my blog in her database. But she, like many people out there in the world, was a little confused about where I am:

What a surprise hearing from you. Since your blog is from Somolia, it really stood out. We added a Somolia rollover to our world map - hopefully it's approximately in the correct place.

It's funny how many people make this mistake, including people who get their Peace Corps assignments and think they are headed to Africa, as if we'd sent volunteers to Mogadishu at the moment.

It's a good think Samoa is so laid-back, otherwise the country might develop a complex.

I find this to be incredible, yet I'm writing about having my phone line installed. I have a phone. I now have my own phone in my own house in Samoa. And, I'm online. It seems unreal.

I only applied a few days ago. It was at the beginning of the week. Since I've heard nothing but stories about the inefficiency of SamoaTel and the lack of available lines, I thought it would take forever, yet this afternoon, a SamoTel van showed up at my house. Within 45 minutes, my phone was installed and I was on the Internet. It's fucking incredible.

My number is 29243. If you're calling from the US, the number should be 011 685 29243. 011 is the international dialing code. 685 is the country code for Samoa.

Give me a ring. It would be great to hear from you.

Last night I returned to my house to find a letter stuck in the door (this, incidentally, is how I receive all my bills in Samoa). I opened the letter and read the following note from the Ministry of Works, Transport, & Infrasctructure (Asset Management Building):

24th June 2003

To: All Tenants
Government Residences

Ref: Removal of all Dogs

Since there are numerous accidents happened (sic) in the Government Compounds/premises which caused severe injuries to other tenants, contract workers and visitors; we therefore enforce the Removal of all Dogs from government compounds immediately. This enforcement of Government Housing Policy is illuminated/clarified in the TENANCY AGREEMENT PART B (10) which states:

The tenant shall not at any time during the tenancy create,
permit or bring onto the premises any matter of an
offensive or dangerous nature or of such weight as is likely
to cause damage or nuisance to the premises and shall not
carry on any activity which disturbs others or causes excessive noise,
smell or other offensive activities:

Your spontaneous action and concern in this matter is highly appreciated.

Faafetai

Tololima Leifi Auva'a
For: Director/Asset Management Building

So much for my plans of building a methlab in my carport storage room.

Of course, chances are, depite Mr Auva'a colorful and unique use of the English language, this letter will be completely ignored.

Yesterday I was riding my bike home just before sunset. As I was passing by Aggie Grey's Hotel on Beach Road, a tourist couple was trying to cross the street. I made eye contact with them. They saw me. Initially they both stopped, so I sped up.

Then they guy stepped out in the road right in front of me. I swerved to avoid him, crossing into the line of oncoming traffic and almost had a head on collision with a taxi.

I recovered just in time to swerve back into my lane. Then I heard the woman say in her pompous antipodean accent, "It is a pedestrian crossing", as if it that excuses her husband.

That was one of the stupidest things I've heard in my life. Since when does the existence of white painted lines on the road excuse pedestrians from taking caution when crossing the street? You can't cross the street any old time you want, not taking into account the ability of oncoming traffic to stop, simply because there is a cross walk. I wanted to turn around and the slap the fucking shit out of her. Good thing for I'm a gentleman.

It's bad enough that I have to avoid pigs, chickens, little Samoan boys and vicious dogs, but stupid tourists as well? Come on, people.

My life is about to take a serious change for the better. I know this because I went down to SamoaTel this afternoon to apply for a phone line. I'm about to get hooked up and dialed in.

Now, saying that, SamoaTel doesn't have the best reputation for providing speedy service, and customers have waited months for lines to be installed.

After I filled out the application, I said to the woman who was helping me, so someone will be out tomorrow to put the line in, right? She just laughed at me. She said I should stop by the office next week to check up on the status of my application. It shouldn't take too long in my case because there's already a jack in the house. They just need to get someone up to my house to reconnect the line.

With my luck, I'll have a phone in place and then a house will open up closer to town and I'll move.

Last night I riding home in a taxi at about 10:30, the windows were and I was freezing my ass off.

I got home, out on my flannel pj's and got into bed. I had a few lavalavas for sheets and a blank from Air New Zealand and I was still so, so cold. I went for my fleece.

I brought my fleece to wear skiing in New Zealand. I never thought I would need it in Samoa. Damn it felt good. When I finally warmed up enough I slept like a baby.

Not cow shit, but I woke this morning to an absolutely horrid smell emanating from my kitchen. Some time in the night or the early morning a rat died in the walls of my kitchen. It smells like, well, it smells like something died. It is putird and nasty and there's nothing I can do about it but wait until the ants dismantle the fucking thing and take it back to wherever it is they go.

When I was cooking lunch (shark curry), I was almost overcome with nausea and couldn't stay in the kitchen for more than a few minutes before the urge to throw up was so overwhelming that I had step out into my room.

At least the smell isn't so profuse (yet) that I can smell it from my bedroom. But who knows, after a day of cooking in the hot Samoan sun, the dead rat carcas smell might infect my whole place. Lucky me.

The day was beautiful. The game was a disappointment. Ireland shut Manu Samoa totally and completely.

Samoa was only down 9-7 at halftime, they were even up 7-6 at one point after scoring the first try of the game, but the fight went out of them in the second half and they fell to the Irish 40-14.

Ireland played a really defensive game, kicking the ball away at every opportunity and essentially neutralized Manu's speed advantage.

However, it was really about the atmosphere. There was a packed SRO house at Apia Park despite the heat. The crowd was rowdy and everyone seemed to have a good time. The police pulled some drunk guy out of the crowd and he almost lost his lavalava which people thought was the funniest thing ever.

It's too bad this is the only game this year. I guess that's why the Peace Corps gives us two years.

Tonight I got dragged to the hotel where the Manu Samoa rugby team is staying. It was a serious pain in the ass, but I'm sure the girls will be jealous.

Earlier in the day, I was at the library and I ran into my host cousin, Tavau. He's one of the physiotherapists for the team and he wanted me to come down to the hotel with him and take a few pics of him with the players.

I did it sort of relucantly, and I felt like an ass standing around the hotel waiting for the these guys to finish dinner or whatever the fuck they were doing so that Tavau could stand with them and have his snapshot taken with these gargantuan men.

There were a couple of players around with wicked tattoos and I got decent shots of them although the lighting was a bit unforgiving in the corridors of the hotel. It sort of made standing around there for an over hour worth it.

The first guy, Mark Luafalealo, who is out injured, had was looked like a Samoan Va'a tattoo on the inside of his forearm, but as the tat moved around the back, it merged into these geometric shapes of green and red. It's very modern take on the traditional tattoo. It was probably done in New Zealand because I've never seen anything like it here.

The next guy, Lome Fa'atau, the dude with the serious abs, had a full Pe'a. This tattoo starts from just above the knees and continues up to where you see it on his midsection covering everything in between. Early European explorers who viewed Samoans from the safety of their boats thought the natives were wearing "smart" britches. It wasn't until the braved a landing and went onshore that they realized that men were covered in tattoos.

It's a serious test of courage to get a full Pe'a and not everyone is up to it, even in Samoa where tolerances for pain are off the scale.

The game against Ireland is tomorrow at 3:30. It's going to be one of the biggest sporting events of the year in Samoa. Ireland is a tough team. They play in the 6-Nations against top competition in Europe. It should be an incredible experience.

Because of the World up later this year in Australia, this will be only game Manu Samoa will play at home this year. Usually they at least play Fiji and Tonga, but I'll have to wait until next year to catch those teams in action.

I'm waiting to pick up my new ATM card here at the ANZ bank (A-N-ZED) in Apia. They've had this Dell computer set up here to promote their new online banking services. The promotion is over, but the computer is still in the branch. When I sat down the PC was off. I switched it on, it started up, there was no password. I'm online inside the bank, checking my email, updating my blog. Incredible, huh?

I'm number E853. There should be a teller open in the next few minutes. In fact, I'm next. Gotta go. Fa.

Overheard at the Peace Corps office: "There's like 40 of them, and they're gorgeous." The Ireland rugby team is in town to play Samoa and a few of the rugby-mad Peace Corps girls are going crazy. The Ireland players are staying at Aggie Grey's, the top (and most expensive) hotel in town. The girls are talking about going down there for dinner. "The food's not that good, but I don't give a crap."

Here's an example of how much time I have on my hands. Last night I won my 1000th Freecell game. You can congratulate me later.

This isn't the 1000th game since I bought this computer. Nor is it the 1000th game since I arrived in Samoa. It's the 1000th game since I upgraded my operating system to Windows 2000 on April 13th of this year.

Why do I like Freecell so much? I don't know exactly. But it is incredibly addictive. I can sit and play and and lose myself for hours.

I think some of the appeal might be the game's nature of creating order out of chaos. Or it could be that it's one of the few things in my life that I'm actually good at.

After much hair pulling and stress, I finally got my fucking taxes done.

Filing your returns when you live overseas is quite a challenge, I just found, even though I have an extra 2 months to file (June 15th is tax day for expats). I didn't have all my records and I didn't have the software. I ordered Turbo Tax from Amazon and had it shipped to a PCV who was visiting her family in New Jersey. Then I had to install it on a computer with Internet access. Even though I was filing by mail, I had to "validate" the software which requires you to be online. (You can call an 800 number, but it only works from the Staes).

Since I was missing a few forms, I had to estimate (make up) figures for some dividends, interest and even one of my 1099. If I don't get audited, it will be the shock of the century.

When I took the two envelopes to SamoaTel this morning for posting, the woman at the desk resfused to post mark the stamps while I was there so I can only hope that they get in the mail in time.

At least next year, filing will be so simple. Only one W-2, and that for only 3000 bucks or so. I won't have to Itemize. What can I deduct? It should be a Fasi Keke (piece of cake).

Last night I did something I will never do again as long as I live. After drinking at one of the local watering holes until about 1am, I got on my bike and pedaled home.

The problem wasn't the alcohol. I only had three beers. The problem was the darkness and the dogs.

I left the Peace Corps office and headed east towards my suburb. Almost immediately 3-4 dogs flew out of the darkness and started barking like crazy. I don't know why I thought all the dogs would sleeping at that hour, but they weren't.

It was easy to escape these canines, but as I passed by the four corner intersection down the road, all the lights in town went out. Everything was in total blackness. No street lights. No lights from houses. There was only the illumination of the occasional passing car for me to see where I was going. The headlights were actually counterproductive because they would kill whatever night vision I was able to establish.

I continued on through the pitch blackness, barely able to make out the lines in the road, completely unable to see more than a few feet around me which is damn frightening when dogs are howling bloody murder at you from only a few meters away.

I made it up past the ford, the airport and golf course. The final test of courage was the first government house in Fagali'i which has 3 viscous resident dogs. I couldn't see them. In fact, that point on the darkest with massive trees closing in on both sides of the street. The dogs were laying in wait forme and the only way I could avoid becoming a doggie meal was to get off the bike and put it between me and the animals.

I made it home, but not without having the holy shit scared out me.

The one amazing thing about the night, other than that I survived unscathed, was the incredible sky. On most cloudless nights, the profusion of stars in the Pacific sky is hard to comprehend, but last night, with no moon or lights of any kind anywhere in the city, the sky was a thing of true beauty. The Milky Way was so dense it looked like a cumulus cloud and there wasn't a spot in the sky that wasn't dotted endlessly with little specks of light. It was one of the most increible sights I have ever seen anywhere.

By Junior Tutagalevao
05 June 2003
Traditionally it was supposed to be the sporting highlight of the Independence week celebration but the Fautasi race won by Taumarina was less than memorable on Monday at Apia Harbour.

When the race finished, it left the spectators looking perplexed and bewildered by the abrupt changes to the distance of the race.

The length of the race was about a mile and a half.

It only took 10 minutes to complete leaving an unsatisfactory and unfulfilling feeling among the spectators who had waited for hours to get a glimpse of the much-awaited race.

Scenes of confusion littered public discussion in the aftermath of the race inviting the conspiracy theorists to make their own conclusions.

Notwithstanding the uncertainty, the shortened course was believed to be the Fautasi committee's call as a precautionary measure for the safety of the participants due to the choppy sea.

The Observer Sports attempted to contact the committee yesterday but they were unavailable to make any comments about the race.

In terms of the action, both the Taumarina and Little Rina made terrible starts to the race coming last off the starting block.

Earlier in the race the Sinavao II (Police crew) and the Laulelei o Amoa were the early pace setters.

These two teams were evenly matched especially the Sinavao II who looked promising to take out the race.Meanwhile the superior boat speed of the Taumarina and Little Rina were evident because they gradually clawed their boats back into contention approaching the finishline at Apia Harbour.

Approaching the entrance to the harbour, Sinavao II were locked with Taumarina for a real sprint to the finish line.

Incredibly for a team that started badly, the winners mustered enough energy to take the wind out of Sinavao II's sails by overtaking them and they held on for dear life eventually winning the race.

There were a few interesting notes about the race though.

The Little Rina beat Laulelei o Samoa for 3rd place again would have indicated superior boat speed while the choppy sea caused boat problems for the wooden spooners, Fili Tuna.

Overall the race was somewhat anti-climax to what was suppose to be the main sporting event of the Independence week and the choppy weather had a significant role to play in the proceedings.

I'm back. I have not been abducted by aliens. I wasn't locked in a Samoan prison camp. I didn't fall into a coma. Nor did I suffer from temporary amnesia. Temporary insanity, yes. Amnesia, not quite.

So what happened?

Since April 28th, I have been locked out, frozen solid from my Yahoo email account. I've got to tell you, this has been one of the most frustrating experiences of my life and I hope never to have to repeat it.

I'm sorry if you were worried or confused that I didn't respond to your emails. It wasn't anything personal. I just couldn't. Here's what happened.

I came into the Peace Corps office on Monday morning, April 28th, after spending all weekend riding my bike around the other island. The big one. Savai'i.

I had taken tons of pictures and I was going to send this great email about the trip (still will, but later). But when I tried to log onto my email account in the office, I got a message saying "invalid password".

Not a big deal. I get this all the time. I can't really type and, since I tend to try to do things too fast, I always mistype my password. I try again. Same result. And again. Same result. I check the Caps Lock. It's off. I start scratching my head while I restart the computer. Surely, that will solve the problem. Who are we kidding here? Doesn't that solve every computer problem?

Today I did absolutely nothing and it was everything that I hoped it could be. I didn't even leave my little cage of a house. It was fantastic. I just napped, played with cats and listened to the radio. There's almost no finer to spend a Sunday in Samoa

GALLERY: APIA IRONMAN

OK, so this was not exactly an Ironman. It did involve a swim, a bike, and a run, so it was, technically speaking, a triathlon. The 300m swim, 12.5K bike ride, and 2.5K scamper, were half of the typical sprint distance and was referred to as an "enticer", you know, an event to interest previously lazy people, such as myself, in the sport. The only thing the race enticed me to do is never enter a triathlon again.

I finished in the top ten. Never mind that there were only 12 competitors in my event and the two people who finished behind me were a 50+ Canadian volunteer and pre-teen young man with the athletic looks of a undernourished chess player. Concentrate not on the fact that you could have timed me with an hour glass, but instead that I participated and finished.

Before I came out to Samoa, I did some freelance work for a company up in the Bay Area called Brightroom that sends photographers around the country to shoot triathlons and other endurance events. So I have a healthy respect for these people, leaping into freezing cold water in the early dawn and pushing the envelopes of their fitness on their state of the art bicycles. I also though they were a little nuts. I never thought I'd be one of them.

The Peace Corps, in a rare burst to inform volunteers, actually sent out a few emails about the event. These, of course, were duly deleted by me without being read. So how is it that a little after 8:30am on a lovely South Pacific Saturday morning, I found myself lined for the start of this little race? Dam good question. I don't really know. Sometime between deleting the emails and hearing my friend Rob Sharp, the organizer, talk about the event on the radio, I got it in my head that this was a good idea. When else was I going to have a chance to run in a triathlon so short?

I woke up at 4am to prepare. Even with my crazy cats waking me up at ridiculous hours, I'm never up this early. I wanted to ensure that I was ready and I didn't miss the race.

I had to dig my contacts out of wherever they were hiding. I haven't worn them in 6 months. They settled in my eyes uncomfortably. I made a big pot of porridge to "carbo-load" around 5:45 and then I hit the road .

The distance from my house in Fagali'i to where the race was being held at the Apia Yacht Club on the Mulinu'u peninsula is almost as far as the cycling distance in the triathlon. By the time I arrived I already had a good sweat going.

At 7:00 I was lined up with the competitors to register. Someone marked my arm and my calf with my number (M9) and I was set to go.

Every once in a while, I get a reminder about how beautiful Samoa is and how lucky I am to be here. Today was one of those days.

Kris and I spent the day at the Papaseea Sliding Rock. Papaseea is a series of 3 little waterfalls with water skimming over surfaces so smooth that you can slide right down them into relatively deep, cool, fresh pools of crystal clear water.

It's stunning beautiful and it's only just outside of town. To give you an idea, from the center of Apia, it's a 7 tala taxi to the Slide. It's also a 7 tala taxi ride in the opposite direction to my house.

We got there around ten in the morning. The skies were somewhat overcast, but no one was around. We paid our 2 tala entry fee and walked down the long series of concrete stairs built by the Japanese or the Canadians or some other "aid" benefactor.

Down at the river, the falls were raging because we've been having so much rain. Kris pluinged right into the largest fall. It has the longest slide at about 5-6 meters, but the pool at the base was too swallow because of all the build up silt.

No problem. We just went about 10 yards down river to the other two slides. The first is a short steep drop of about 2 meters to a narrow, deep pool. The real fun comes on the third slide. It's not as steep as the second, nor as harrowing as the first long waterfall, but it's so fun.

You slide down at about 45 degree angle, hit a little bump of a rock and pop in the air into the pool below. Great fun and all natural.

I couldn't find my bathing suit this morning and my shorts had a little too much friction so I'm to have to come back, but it's so close, I can easily ride my bike up there.

Kris and I spent an hour or so sitting at the top of the falls, chatting and letting the water run over us until some tourists showed up and we decided it was time to call it a day, but not before snapping a few pics.

This came from Yahoo today:

Hello Andrew,

Thank you for the comprehensive information. We realize how important
the email account is and we do apologize for any inconvenience this has
caused you.

We have prompted our system to generate a new password for your Yahoo!
account. This password will be sent to your alternate (Hotmail) email
address and will help you restore access to your account.

Once you have logged in, please update your Zip Code and verify your
alternate email address so that you may use our automated password
request form if you experience future sign-in problems.

I still can't get into my Yahoo acount, but I'm hopeful of a quick solution now that I have, finally, after a month of correspondance, recieved an email from someone with a name, Carlo. Carlo, my savior. Or so I hope.

So far, all I have is the letter, which you can read by clicking the MORE link. I don't know if this guy is going to be able to help me. I can only pray that he has a fucking heart.

Meanwhile, on another front, I've got a friend of a friend who knows a guy who works in Yahoo Engineering who says that he can reset my password. He was very confident when I wrote yesterday morning, but I haven't anything from his or my friend or his friend since then.

I'm the meantime, I'm losing my patience and want to go to Santa Clara and knock some sense into those heartless bastards at Yahoo.

Country Fried Chicken, a chain from New Zealand, opened it's doors on Sunday. I went and tried it. It's not all that good. Just basic fried chicken and chips. And they only have drumsticks, which isn't a big surprise since breasts are almost impossible to come by.

The great thing about Country Fried Chicken is that it is open on Sunday at 10am. It's the only place to eat that opens before 5pm on Sunday. That is a blessing, especially for Peace Corps Volunteers in Apia.

Ua Pe le Paipa is a rather colorful phrase that Samoans use when the water is out. It literally means, the pipe is dead.

We haven't had water in Fagali'i since Sunday (it's Thursday now). It's a minor pain, but I don't mind much since bringing water in from the tank outside is one of the few things I have to do that makes me actually feel like a Peace Corps Volunteer. The only thing that I have a problem with is doing the laundry. I have a ton of dirty clothes.

Life here is generally easy, especially when compared to the lives of other volunteers around the world. When I read stories of volunteers in Mongolia, living in tents, having to light a fire first thing in the morning so they don't freeze, it makes me think that this experience, depsite it's challenges and problems, is not all the difficult. So it's nice to have to rough it now and again.

It's not really all that rough. We still have electricity. I can watch rented DVDs on my comptuer. I have a fan blowing in my face to keep me cool. I have a SONY CD player and about 100 discs. I have an oven and a stove with three working bruners. Nonstick pans. A more than adequate fridge. Life could be a whole lot worse.

The word is that the water is supposed to be coming back online sometime next week.

It was raining so hard last night I actually got stuck in Moto’otua in the middle of Apia. It was just raining too hard to flag down a taxi, which is the only way for me to get home at night. It wasn’t so bad. There were a bunch of people at Taui’s house and we watched “Office Space” after which the storm abated.

It was close to midnight when a few of us ventured outside to grab a taxi. We tried to call but couldn’t get through to any of the taxi stands. Telephone service here is dicey at best and in the rain, it often fails.

I had to get home so there was nothing to do, but go outside in the drizzle and wait. There were so few taxis because no one wants to drive in Apia in a downpour. Taxis would cruise by every few minutes, but none would stop. They all had passengers. We must have waited half an hour for an empty cab. By that time I was sloppy wet and couldn’t wait to get inside and towel off.

After dropping off a passenger at Vaivase Tai, we headed up to the heights of Fagali’i. It was raining so hard I couldn’t see out the windshield. With all this precipitation, the river on the way to my house was over running it’s banks and the current at the ford was so strong this morning that the bus went around on the longer golf course road.

I have gotten nowhere dealing with Yahoo about my inability to get into my email. They have the worst customer service I have dealt with. Even credit report companies like Equifax are more responsive. So if you're curious why I haven't responded to your email, that's why.

If you want or need to email me in the near future use "hechtic2@yahoo.com". Hopefully this nightmare will be over soon and I can on with my normal life.

If want to see a slice of Samoan life, look no further than MTV.
Surf Girls, now showing on MTV every Monday 10:30pm eastern features hot surf babes (wouldn't want to see that?) traveling the South Pacific (that's where I am) in search of the perfect wave.

I saw some of the these wandering around the streets in Apia when they made their forays in town to decompress. I have to tell, it's quite shocking to see Americans models running amok in Samoa after you've been here for half a year.

Sadly, MTV has yet to arrive on the shores of this Pacific paradise. Check out the show and let me know how it is.

Here's the blurb from the website:

"Who needs the boys of summer when you’ve got the Surf Girls of MTV? Fourteen babes with boards trek across the globe to compete for a highly-coveted wildcard into the World Championship Tour of surfing and a spot in a pro contest. Find out who will catch a wave to surfing glory in Surf Girls, where the sun is almost as hot as the ladies."

Sometimes I forget that I'm living in the middle of the South Pacific. It's easy to do. You get caught up in daily life and days slip by and you just forget. Many of the worries that I thought I left behind have followed me here: Office politics, traffic, laundry, relationships, etc.

Then something happens, like seeing canoe sillouetted in the sunset and I'm reminded about how beautiful it is here in Samoa.

Fortunately, I'm reminded often enough so I know how lucky I am to have been placed here.

1 US Dollar = 2.98800 Samoan Tala
1 Samoan Tala (WST) = 0.33467 US Dollar (USD)

This is the current exchange for the US Dollar against the Samoan Tala. The rate has been on a downward spiral since we arrived in the country in October of last year, as you can see by the table below.

This sucks because as Peace Corps Volunteers, we get paid in the local currency, Samoan Tala. For day to day to purposes, the exchange rate doesn't matter, but if we ever travel or when we convert our cash back to US Dollars at the end of service, it's really lousy to have such a weak Dollar.

You can see an historical table of exhange rates for the last 7 months and read a story from Reuters about how thrilled U.S. officials are with the weak dollar because it helps imports by clicking through the MORE link.

Last night Norbert made his return in spectacular fashion. For those of you who might not remember or didn't read my email about the critters in my house, Norbert is the foot-long green gecko that lives in my fale.

So last night, while I was struggling to get to sleep in the middle of the night about 3am or so, I heard this huge crashing sound in the kitchen. I get up, walk over 10 feet to the kitchen and turn on the lights.

What do I see?

The first thing is the glass top of my stock pot, which is on the floor. Fortunately it's in one piece. Then I see my kittens. Mak is on the screen door and Filemu is on top of the fridge. They're looking up in the corner. Up in the corner is, of course, Norbert.

HEY HEY HEY! Look what we have here.

Matrix Reloaded is playing in our theaters here in SAMOA, a full five days before the release date in States. Take that!

Yes, that's right. Our little speck of an island country has the Matrix Reloaded in Dolby surround sound, I might add, at the Magik Cinema downtown right now, today.

How did that happen?

I haven't got the slightest clue and I don't care. I'm going to the 3:30 screening. I'll let y'all know how it is. Stay tuned!

I stayed up late last night to finish reading Fight Club. This was after staying at the Peace Corps office until 1:23 AM to work on my blog, a never ending work in progress. I was really hoping to sleep in, but I didn't even get my normal sporadic hours.

Around 5 in the morning, I'm woken by a huge crashing sound in the kitchen. I get up and find that the top of the pot on the floor and cats looking at me with guilty expressions. I'm pissed to be up so fucking early, but happy that the glass top didn't shatter.

I try to get back to sleep, but I can't. Light is starting to leak in from behind the curtains and the cats are trying to get on top of the bookcase, which is always dangerous, both for them and for everything below. I grab the cats and put them outside.

Hey, it's Cinco de Mayo, even here in Samoa. So in honor of the Mexican defeat of the French at Puebla, I ate lunch at the Mexican Restaurant in town, Ricordo's (chilli con carne).

Tonight I'm going to make "California" hamburgers with a little guacamole. I should have cooked the meal I made last night tonight. I had pepper-lime steak fajitas with tortillas that I made myself. It was messy, but then again, all things fun are messy.

My body is betraying me at the moment. Here's a rundown:

--The last two fingers on my right hand are still numb. Dr. Atherton says it's nerve damage and nothing to worry about. I should get feeling back soon.

--I stubbed my toe about an hour ago worse than I ever have in my life. This guy started talking to me as I walking down the street. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, and, BAM!, I hit my big toe on the "sidewalk" and a streak of pain shot up my right leg. I was wearing these crappy Samoan flip-flops that people around here call jandles, so I had no protection whatsoever. The front of the toe spilt open like a ripe melon, blood started ooozing out onto the sandals and by the time I made it back to the Peace Corps office, the flap of skin hanging in front of the wound turned a solid shade of purple.

--A splinter that lodged itself in the index finger of my left hand as I sat down on the ferry back from Savai'i last sunday finally fell out when I did my laundry yesterday, leaving behind a an inch long gash in the pad of my finger.

--Makelani, my male kitten, in his eagerness to escape from me when the vet showed up to snip his balls off, scratched the shit out of my palm just below the pinky of my left hand. It's in such an awkward place that's it going to take some time to heal.

--I'm still suffering from a nasty case of jock itch. Details best left unsaid.

I was walking down to Ah Liki Wholesale on Vaea Street. It was a hot day, but I was enjoying the walk through town. I thought this would be good time to go down to Pasi's Three Corner and take a picture of the "Don't Speed, You Idiot" sign, which I've seen a few times, but never had my camera with me to shoot it.

On the way down there, just past the Mid-City Cinema, this guy starts falling in step with me and he wants to chat. All the usual questions. Where are you going? Where are from? How long you been here? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you like Samoan girls? While I'm trying to answer this guy's questions, I'm not paying much attention to where I'm stepping and I stub my toe worse than I ever have in my life. It doesn't help that I'm wearing crappy, worn-down jandals. The front of my right toe takes the brunt of the impact. I look down and see the blood spreading before I feel the pain. The pain is intense, but for some reason, comes slowly. I start limping towards the sign. I feel like an idiot and I'm not even speeding.

Kris and I were just walking through the market, the one called the Maketi Fou, or "New Market". We saw this guy selling a gigantic fiddler crab. He wanted 15 tala for it. We hesitated. He dropped the price to 12 (about 4 USD), and we snapped it up.

We brought our catch back to the Peace Corps office and devoured it Neanderthal style. It was delicious, especially the massive right claw. Yum!

This notice was posted around Apia this week:

Deadline For Exchanging Damaged Banknotes

Over the past few years, the Central Bank of Samoa has noticed an increase in the number of damaged notes created through deliberate defacing and poor handling by some members of the public. As a result, the cost to the country of printing new currency notes has risen substantially. In the event, the Central Bank has decidedto give the Public up to the 30 April 2003 to turn in any damaged currency notes in their possession to the Central Bank for replacement.

From the 1st May 2003, the Central Bank will no longer accept willfully damaged currency notes for reimbursement. Members of the Public are reminded to carefully check all currency notes, which come into their possession at this time, to ensure the notes they have are of good quality.

Anyone who believes he or she is in possession of damaged currency notes should come to the Central Bank, before the 1st May 2003, for reimbursement of these notes.

The Public is again reminded that from the 1st May 2003, the Central Bank will no longer accept damaged currency notes.

The question I have is how can the bank tell if a note has been damaged willfully or is just plain old?

I don't know what is going on, but ever since yesterday, I can't access my Yahoo! email account. This wouldn't be such a tragedy except all my email addresses are stored in there. Yahoo is being very uncooperative because of their safety and security policy.

There is a password retrieval function on their site, but you need to know both the zip and the second email you had when you signed. I've had this account for at least 7 years and I haven't the foggiest idea where I was when I set it up.

I guess I'm screwed untill I can convince Yahoo that I am who I say I am. In the meantime, if you want to write, email me at hechtic2@yahoo.com

Just returned from a gruelling 3-day cycling tour around the big island, Savai'i. I'm exhausted, I can't feel my fingers and I desparately need something to eat. More details and pictures to follow in the days to come.

I finally picked up the blender that I bought at George's garage sale. It's a super-poweful Hamilon Beach 2-speed bar blender. It's awesome, chrome perfection and it's going to make my life here a whole hell of lot more tolerable.

George, who formerly managed the surf camp at Salani on the south side of Upolu, was selling most of his worldly goods before his round-the-world-trip and I was lucky enough to pick up his blender and his a cheese grater.

The first thing I blended: Strawberry Egg Cream

A taxi ride just isn't a taxi ride in Samoa unless you take a stroll down amnesia lane courtesy of the cabbie's radio. Last night, as we made the final turn behind the airport, I could make out the unmistakable strains of Heavy D and Boys belting out "Now that we found love, what are we going to do, with it?" Indestructible rap music.

You know, when i first listened to the Brazil disc Jen sent, I didn't like it. In fact, I was kinda bummned, because the pace of the songs is generally slow, and I was looking for something a little more upbeat to rock to in my fale.

But now, after several dozen listens, I'm hooked. I love it. The songs are so powerful and yet catchy at the same time. If only I could understand what they are saying. Portuguese is so much gibberish to my ears.

I got a last minute request to feed Van's cat. I'm serious when I say last minute. By the time I found out about it, she was already in Siumu. She left me her cell phone, the key to her flat and 10 bucks.

I was sort of bummed about having to make the trip up to Vaivase Uta because I was really looking forward to two straight days of doing nothing but tafao in my fale. But in truth, I needed the exercise and I was getting a little stir crazy on Easter Sunday.

Days like this when the buses don't run are no fun, especially when my bike is locked at the Peace Corps office.

Today, Good Friday, incidentally, I had to be at the Peace Corps office for a meeting. With no means of transportation (expect an expensive taxi ride), walking is really my only option. I could hitch, but there were so few cars on the road since everyone was at church. And it was brutally hot today.

I don't know what happened to the weather, but just when we seemed to be turning the corner with the mercury coming down to more comfortable levels, it shot back up into the stratosphere.

Today, a rainy day in Apia, there are a few tankers/freighters out in the harbor. I went for a walk around the seawall to take some shots. Around the far side, this kid started walking with me. He wanted to play with my camera. I said no. Then he wanted me to give him 2 tala. I said no. He pestered me a for a while longer, then he took off.

I walked behind the "Iver Explorer" to take a shot of the boat and as I was getting ready to take the picture, something hit me directly on my right elbow, right on the damn funny bone. I turned around and I saw the kid running away in the park behind the government buidling. What a little shit.

It's Sunday.

I walked down to the Peace Corps office from Fagali'i. It took about an hour an half. It was more grueling than normal because a mosquito had bit me last night on the foot right where the leather on my sandals rubs against the top of my foot.

There was a cruise ship in port and I went down by the large tree to take a pic. There was a group of soles sitting drinking on the seawall under the tree. They waved me a over because they thought I was coming from the cruise ship. When I busted out some Samoan, they gave me a shot of whatever it was they were drinking (niu voka and coke, i think) in the cut-off bottom of a plastic bottle.

Just after I downed the drink, the cops pulled up and waved the guy with the bottle over the side of the car. This seemed like a good time to leave. The last thing I needed on my record was an arrest in Apia.

‘Lighthouse’ to open in June

By Terry Tavita
12 March 2003

Where once an Apia landmark stood, a new bar, in the same vein, will open its doors in a few months.

The Lighthouse, a bar and nightclub, jointly owned by the same folks who are running the Coast Bar and Grill next door, will be operating at Tauese where the Otto’s Reef once was.

The Lighthouse management yesterday promised to offer the public a safe and relaxed locality where folks can enjoy their drinks to good music and in good company.

Kitchen facilities will also provide fast food and pupus.

The project, estimated to cost $120,000, will be built in two phases.

First phase is the bar and nightclub facilities, the second if negotiations with the landowners come through, a block of budget accommodation units at the back.

The proposed night club that will cater to a capacity crowd of 500 people, the management say, will be free of cover charge until 10 pm. Ladies pay only half of the door fee.

“We will cater mainly for working folks and everybody else wanting to enjoy good times with their friends,” says the management.

The location was last year acquired by the Samoa Land Corporation after a land trade with former owners, the Otto Nelson family.

The Coast won the public tender earlier this year with a ten-year flexible lease at rent payments of $5,000 a year.

SUBJECT: THINGS THAT GO FETO'AI IN THE NIGHT
DATE: 26 FEBRUARY 2003
FROM: ANDREW

My house in Fagali'i is a regular menagerie of critters these days, most of them, sadly, are uninvited guests. Fortunately, the two critters that do the most bumping in the wee hours, are my little felines, Filemu and Makelani.

Just in case you were wondering, the kittens, or as I like to call them, "The Weapons of Mass Destruction", are doing great. They're good eaters (especially Mak) and are very healthy. No fleas. No ticks. No nothing. They also kill just about anything that moves. Unfortunately, there is always serious collateral damage.

The "Weapons" sleep about 20 hours a day. They spend another 3 hours in sort of a heat-index induced narcoleptic daze. With their remaining time, they either kill intruders, chase each other around the flat or urinate on possessions I hold dear.

Rarely a day goes by that I don't come home to a host of new dead creatures or corners that smell like a homeless shelter in Port-au-Prince. But that's why man invented Pine Sol.

Despite their faults, you just have to love them. I mean, look at them, they are adorable.

Here's a sampling of the other things that go Feto'ai in the night:

THE ANTS
Recently I was chatting with Patrick, a fellow Peace Corps volunteer and the former resident of my flat. We were joking about the varied array of animals that make their way into and around the apartment. Patrick would say something like, "Ah, the slugs. Can't do anything about them. HA HA HA" or, alternately, "Ah, the ants. Can't do anything about them. HA HA HA." He seemed to have a far greater calm about the critters than I am able to muster. Perhaps that's because he doesn't live here anymore.

Like Patrick says, you certainly can't do anything about the ants. You could drive yourself manic and try to kill them whenever they show up, but that's a pointless exercise. They always come back and in far greater numbers. Well, that's not really true, but it sounds dramatic. They come back in the same numbers, but they always, I mean, ALWAYS, come back.

To test this point, I left a piece of dried cheese on the counter. Within a few minutes, it was swarming with ants. I slid the cheese over and sponged the ants to a watery death in the sink. Within a few minutes, they were back. I killed them all again. Within a few minutes, they came back. This goes on until either the ants have carried all the cheese away, bit by tiny bit, or you are driven insane (possibly, both). If ants had a PR firm working for them, their slogan would be, "Kill all you want, we'll make more."

The only real problem I have with the ants is when they get into the fridge. I don't know how they do it, but they get in there somehow. They get into the freezer too, but judging by the frozen ant carcasses buried in the permafrost, I think they quickly come to regret that decision.

Where I come from, the fridge is strictly an ant-free zone. Apparently the ants in Samoa didn't get the memo. There are very few things worse than dreaming of a quesadilla on the bus ride home only to return and discover that the ants have laid claim to your cheese.

Sometimes having the ants can be a bonus, such as when one of the "Weapons" pukes in the middle of the night. By the time I wake up, the ants are already hard at work, making my place nice and clean for me. Awfully considerate of them, isn't it?

THE MOSQUITOES
Anyone who has been following my travels over the last several years can tell you how passionately I feel about killing mosquitoes. It's kind of a hobby of mine. The skeeters in Fagali'i must have gotten some sort of advance notice of my arrival since I rarely see them flittering about. I'm lucky; I don't have to sleep with a mosquito net. I just light the occasional coil after it rains.

Thankfully, there is no malaria here in Samoa. We do have Dengue Fever though. There seems to be an outbreak of Dengue in the islands about once every 5 years. Last year around 20 or so volunteers came down with the disease. Bad luck for them, but it looks like Group 69 is in the clear. (That said, one of our members turned up sick last week and the initial blood test revealed a possibility of Dengue).

Classic dengue, known for its low mortality but very uncomfortable symptoms, has become more serious, both in frequency and mortality, in recent years. The carrier is the Aedes mosquito which, unlike its malarial cousin Anopheles, bites during daylight hours.

Also unlike malaria, there is no prophylactic for Dengue, so you just have to avoid getting bitten. While my house is relatively mosquito free, I can't say the same for my office. Oh, my office. Can't do anything about that. HA HA HA.

THE GECKOS

I tend to like Geckos. They're cute and they eat bugs. In my place they range from the tiny one inch babies to the foot long monsters. The cats tend to like them too. Filemu enjoys hunting them down, biting their heads off and presenting them to me on our stoop. Makelani hasn't quite gotten the hang of it. Then again, he's a special needs cat.

When I first arrived, there was an a enormous lizard hanging out in my kitchen behind the fridge. I named him Norbert. He would usually come out at night and sneak around. Then the cats noticed Norbert and I didn't see him for weeks.

A few days ago when I saw him in the corner of my room above my bed. His was back was all scrapped up and I'm going to go out on a limb here, but I'm guessing Filemu had a little fun with him. Sadly, Norbert probably went off somewhere cat-free.

THE COCKROACHES
When I first moved in, there were roaches a plenty in the house. Big surprise there. The "Weapons" loved this because roaches are the perfect cat toy. Let me explain.

First of all, cockroaches come darting at high speed along the floor. The kittens are great at picking up any movement and they quickly pounce on the unsuspecting insects. Well, Filemu pounces. Mak kinda follows along.

Fil will grab the roach in her mouth, move over to one of the corners, let it go and begin the chase all over again. Because roaches are fairly durable, this can last several hours until either the insect has no limbs or Fil tires of the chase, at which point, it's chow time. Roaches are like french fries to a cat. A kitten couldn't ask for anything more.

I hardly ever see roaches in the house these days.

THE TERMITES
When I was growing up in LA, we had termites. I thought it was the coolest thing. First they threw a circus tent over our house. Then we got to spend the weekend at our grandparents. Now, I'm having second thoughts.

Here's an interesting fact about termites that you probably didn't know. Worker termites need a high humidity to survive and will carry mud up into the wood where feeding to maintain a 97 percent relative humidity. Incidentally, that's the exact humidity in my apartment at this very moment. This place is like Gstaad for termites.

Termites also have the ability to move their colony up and down in the soil to find the optimal temperature and moisture conditions. Smart little suckers, aren't they?

Termites have descended on Samoa like a biblical plague. Almost every house is made of wood and few houses are spared this scourge. The real issue for me, as a temporary resident in a government flat, is not the long-term damage to the house, about which I can do nothing (all literature on prevention starts with, "reduce humidity". yeah, right). It is the filth that the termites leave behind as they feast on anything wooden in the apartment that is the issue.

As they burrow into my walls and my furniture, the termites leave behind a little something I like to call "termite excrement." Every day I come home to piles of dust and shit, under the table, in the shower, along the walls, beside my bed. You get the point.

To combat this, I bid for and won an auction on eBay for a Dirt Devil. Unfortunately the guy I won it from is a lazy ass and hasn't given me the shipping total although it's been over a month since the auction closed. So, in the meantime, I sweep.

THE SPIDERS
Sure I got spiders. Mostly there are the daddy long legs variety that hang innocently in the corners of the bathroom. I tend to leave those guys alone since they hoover up the insects. It's the big, hairy freaky spiders that I have to watch out for.

Rather than describe them, I going to give you a snippet of the Instant Message conversation I had with my brother the day after the first of these spiders showed up in my place (that would be the 22nd of January at 1:21AM, in case you were curious):

hechtic1: last night
hechtic1: im trying to go to sleep
hechtic1: it's about 130
hechtic1: makelani is sleeping on me
hechtic1: i can hear filemu
hechtic1: making sounds like she's chasing a critter
hechtic1: that she cant get to
hechtic1: i turn on the lights
hechtic1: she's sitting on the armrest of my wooden chair
hechtic1: looking up at the ceiling
hechtic1: i look up
hechtic1: there's a huge fucking spider
hechtic1: like the size of my palm
hechtic1: and there's something under it's belly
brianhecht: arachnophobia
hechtic1: i take a closer look
hechtic1: it's an egg sack
hechtic1: it's bigger than her
hechtic1: i took a few digital shots
hechtic1: then i got out the bug spray
hechtic1: i fired a quick burst
hechtic1: she starts to move
hechtic1: and a few little spiders run out of the egg sack
hechtic1: I'm thinking, holy shit, I'm going to have spiders all over this place
hechtic1: i let loose with the bug spray
hechtic1: she falls to the floor
hechtic1: the egg sack falls the floor
hechtic1: I'm trying to keep the cats away
hechtic1: hundreds of little spiders burst forth from the sack
hechtic1: she limps under the chair
hechtic1: I'm spraying like a madman after i sequester the cats in the bathroom
hechtic1: i search for the spider
hechtic1: can't see it
hechtic1: then I see her crawling towards the kitchen
hechtic1: i grab the dust broom
hechtic1: and scoop her ass and the egg sack out the door
hechtic1: frightening
brianhecht: do you have any good books?
brianhecht: are you reading something?
brianhecht: and how's the social life?
brianhecht: do the volunteers go out a lot?
brianhecht: are there places to go out?
hechtic1: sorry, there's a paper jam
hechtic1: brb
brianhecht: no worries

Clearly, my brother lost interest in the end, but it freaked me out and it continues to freak me out whenever I see one of these of these hairy monsters roaming the walls. Fortunately, they make good eating for the "Weapons" who find them simply delicious.

THE BEES
Normally a couple of bees a night find their way into the house from the massive hive behind my carport. They bounce around the fluorescent lights for a while and when they crash down to earth, the cats bat them around some for kicks. No big deal.

THE CENTIPEDES
Centipedes have to be amongst the most foul creatures that crawl on the face of the earth. How foul, you say? Did anyone out there see the first Lord of the Rings movie? (if you didn't, do yourself a favor and go rent it). Without giving anything away, when Frodo et al. first encounter a Ring Wraith on the road to Bree, the hobbits take cover under the root of a large tree. When the wraith dismounts, what creature should come slithering out? None other than a nasty, brown centipede. That's how foul.

Centipedes are not insects, but are more closely related to lobsters, crayfish and shrimp. Centipede Scapmi? I don't think so. With their segmented bodies and vice-grip jaws, they look like the sort of vile monster that only someone like H.P. Lovecraft could invent.

They are most often found in moist habitats or areas of high humidity, such as, for example, my apartment. Depending on the species, centipedes can vary in length from one to 12 or more inches when mature. The little ones are more dangerous, but the big ones are, well, foul.

Fortunately the "Weapons" usually alert me to their presence before the centipedes do something crazy, like bite me. Centipedes normally feed on insects, chomping on them with their powerful jaws and then killing with an injection of venom. Unfortunately, unsuspecting humans get in the way, as two members of our training group found out in Matâutu.

Generally the bite is no worse than a bee sting and can be treated with an antihistamine, like Benadryl. People who are allergic to insect venoms and other toxins may suffer severe reactions to the venom of a centipede. However, it's not the bite that has me worried--it's having one of these foul creatures on me.

THE MILLIPEDES
I don't know what purpose millipedes serve on this planet. They don't seem to do anyone any bit of good. You touch them, they curl up into a little ball and you flick them under the door. End of story.

THE RATS
Nary a night goes by that I don't hear the rats scurrying around in the crawl space above my ceiling. I haven't seen too many signs of them in my place, because the "Weapons" hone in on them like heat seekers.

Two of my neighbors actually borrowed Filemu to chase down an offending mouse in their adjacent flats. She caught up with the mouse, but toyed with it too much and it escaped.

She had better luck yesterday afternoon. She caught a little rat and snapped it's neck. Apparently she didn't know it was dead because she played with it for the better part of an hour.

Patrick tells me that the rats occasionally die in the walls and the crawl space. I'll know it by the smell. Ah, the smell. Can't do anything about that. HA HA HA.

Interestingly, during this time, there won't be any ants in the apartment. All their forces are mustered to dismantle the deceased rat. Within a day or two, the smell is gone and the ants are back.

So it goes in Fagali'i.

Here's the story from the Samoa Observer about the computers donated to the DOE by ANZ. I love the part about the computers being in "very good condition". That's sort of like saying someone who's dying of cancer is in very good condition. It's an absolute joke. The compters were a complete mess, full of dust, no cd-roms, about a third of the hard drives were hosed. It's a feel good story for ANZ and the Samoan government, but in truth, these computers will likely do little good other than giving ANZ a fat tax write off.

Tonight I had a big score. It was Friday night. I had dinner with my friend Kris at the Steakhouse-fish burgers. They were good, but not nearly filling enough. We both decided not to go drinking, but instead to go shopping at Lyn Netzler's.

I was looking in the aisle of canned goods. Down at the bottom were stacked a dozen or so enormous cans. I looked through them out of curiosity and right in the middle I found a can of "Ranch Style" black beans from Texas. I couldn't believe my luck.

I have been looking for black beans everywhere. They were some salted, dried things from China, but they looked inedible, so when I found the can, I was thrilled. I did feel a little guilty that there was only one can and Kris couldn't have one as well, but only a little.

I also hesitated from a second over the 22 tala price tag (over 7 bucks), but I decided I had to have them--I would have probably paid twice that price-and bought them along with some tortillas from Santa Clara and some milk from New Zealand.

TO: YOU
SUBJECT: MY FANAU
DATE: 10 JANUARY 2003

Fanau (pronounced fah-now) is one of those interesting words that is uniquely Samoan. It means children, but it only refers to the children of someone in particular. The word for children in general is tamaiti (tah-mite-tee). If you're just talking about those kids over there, you use tamaiti. If you're talking about someone's kids or to someone about their children, you use fanau. It's interesting to note for what it's worth that for men when talking about their own children, fanau is an O noun, while for women it's an A noun .

I'm lucky enough to have acquired two beautiful kittens in the village. I guess you could they say they were part of my mealofa gift.

I didn't really want kittens. I wanted a dog to keep my house secure. However this one cute tabby, about 4 weeks old, showed up at our fale one day and to keep my nephew Timo from torturing it to death, I asked if I could adopt him. I named him Makelani, the Samoan name for Magellan.

Then one morning a few days later, another kitten shows up. This one is beautiful. She's a tabby, but with golden calico markings. She's incredibly sweet, hardly makes a sound and I name her Filemu Suamalie, which means Sweet Silence.

A third kitten was brought to our fale by another trainee, Mele, who thought it was Makelani. They looked so much alike, even I thought it was Makelani until I saw him bounding across the floor. I didn't want to name this cat because I didn't want more than two and I didn't want to get attached. Plus it was crying all the time with a screeching meow that could drive even the most patient person crazy.

During breakfast one morning I was having a conversation with my sister Vani and she told me that Makelani was dead. But she said it so casually, that I thought at first I misunderstood her. So I asked her, you mean the cat is dead? Yes, she said. He was pecked to death by chickens early this morning. That was December 9th.

Makelani was never quite right. I think he must have suffered some brain damage at the hands of Timo, who was always thrusting him at dogs and throwing him around the fale. He never bathed himself. He always slept awkwardly. There was something distinctly uncatlike about him, as if all the cat-ness had been shook out him by my malevolent nephew.

Still, it was sad news and I was morose for most of the day. Makelani was buried in the backyard. I adopted the third kitten and named him Makelani II.

Filemu and Makelani could easily be brother and sister, but I can't be sure. They have similar tabby markings with matching white paws and a white chin. They take care of each other like siblings. They bathe each other and when they get the kitty crazies, they run around the house and duke it out. They're adorable. Especially when they're sleeping, often in tandem.

KEEPING KITTENS IN SAMOA

It's been something of a chore to get my fanau out of the village and into my place. For the last few weeks in the village, I was constantly paranoid that they would get snatched, be killed or simply disappear. Just getting them into the departing van was a major relief, especially since I had to say goodbye to everyone in the village while holding onto a box ready to explode with anxious kittens.

Back in Apia, we had to stay in the hotel for a few more days before we moved to our sites. My roommate Kolisi, who had a puppy and a kitten of his own, and I drew the smallest room. There was no litter box and despite our best efforts, our place smelled like a barnyard.

When I finally moved to my place in Fagali'i I had to contend with the dogs and the ants. The dogs were a huge problem. My cats were terrified inside the house, and I couldn't let them out unsupervised for fear they would end up as dog food. I almost ended up as dog food.

The ants here are another thing entirely. I've never been in a country where the ants are faster at getting to food. You can put down an orange peel anywhere in the country and it will be crawling with ants within seconds.

In my house, the floor is tiled with this black and white warping faux linoleum, but the floor wasn't laid well and there's no grout between the tiles. The resulting little black groove is like a transcontinental superhighway for ants. You can't see them. Then all of sudden they appear in swarms like magic.

The first time I put food out for the cats, I put it on the floor and the ants were all over it in seconds. Then I wised up and made a cat bowl moat using two pieces of tupperware, but one cat or the other would eventually push the two pieces together and that was all the ants needed to get across. I switched to a frisbee as the moat dish, which was better because of the lower sidewall, but still the cats would push the dish to the edge.

Finally I ant-proofed a table that was given to me by putting cans of water under each leg. This seems to be the best solution. But even so, some ants still make it up onto the table. I don't know how. Maybe they swim for it. But at least it's manageable.

THE SHITHEADS

Because the kittens can't really go outside, they have to use the a litter box. You can't buy a litter box in Samoa, so I'm using a plastic oval serving dish that I picked up at one of the shops in town for a buck. Unfortunately the cats don't like to use it as often as recommended by their human, especially when I go away for the night.

They also have this habit of urinating on my bed and my bags. I'm told this is a sign of affection and they are just marking my stuff. I think I'd prefer if they hated me or they had a more socially acceptable way of showing affection. It wouldn't be as a big a problem if I had access to a laundromat, but since I have to wash everything by hand, I don't really appreciate the gesture. Unfortunately there's no good way to communicate that, other than to refer to my cats as "Shitheads". They don't understand, but it makes me feel better at any rate.

Then there's Makelani, who is a charmer, but only when's he sleeping. Awake, he is a complete terror. He's always screeching about something. Of course it's nonspecific. He's cries to go outside. So I put him outside. Then he cries to come in immediately, so I bring him in. His tastes change daily. One day he wants to eat fish. The next day not. One day, he's good with dry food. The next day it's a problem. He pushes Filemu out of the way at meal time. He pushes her out of the way to get closer to me. He sleeps on her. I like to think of him as a special needs cat. Hopefully Filemu's calming influence will rub off on him and if that doesn't work, perhaps he'll mellow when he's snipped in about 3 month's time. If that doesn't happen I'm going to change his name to Masani Tagi, Always Crying.

Despite all these problems I can't help but love my fanau. They are very affectiate. Filemu is fond of bathing me. They purr like machines (it's telling that there's no word in Samoan for "purr"). They kill roaches with enthusiasm, which is more than I can say for myself. I can watch them play for hours on end. I don't know if I could make it here without them. Today they got their first shots and they were both so good. Well, that's a lie. Filemu was a champ, but Makelani screamed like a banshee the whole time. I have learned to expect nothing less.

Both cats have developed a fondness for walking across my laptop when I'm working and when I send this email, this will be the first published work of Makelani:

Fcolcxlc]y

'Jesus' walks streets of Apia

By Terry Tavita
19 December 2002

Donald Sooga is a man on a personal crusade.
Carrying a heavy ten foot cross slung across his shoulder, he walked along Beach Road yesterday drawing the attention of many a bemused onlooker

Cars slowed to a crawl, shoppers stopped in their tracks, lunch-time diners raised their heads, amused, as toddlers pointed their fingers at the diminutive figure as he trudged along the Apia sidewalk.

Barefooted, clad in a knee-high robe tied with a red sash, the 60 year old slouched with the weight of the crucifixion symbol under the scorching midday sun.

With reddish sandy hair and flowing white beard, he appeared a striking resemblance of the pious figure depicted in portraits and publications we’ve come to know the Messiah by.

Donald Sooga, a US resident, believes he has been called by the Lord to spread the message of Christ by carrying his cross in 'all four corners of the globe, and in all walks of life.'

“I am not of a particular religion or a church,” he says.

“My crusade is to allow people to see for themselves how Jesus suffered on the cross so that our sins can be forgiven.”

You think people’s aka, the Hebrew’ attitudes during the times of Jesus have changed ?

Sooga says he still gets ridiculed and taunted by some along the way.

“But that is not for me to judge, that is only what God can do.”

Asked if he does this only for the festive season he replied, “no, my visits are not planned, I was called to come here.”

Though Sooga has only been on ‘his crusade’ for four years, he has carried the cross in American Samoa, Hawaii and many US mainland cities, counties and states.

Rain or shine, drought or blizzard, he said.

In 1999, Sooga said that the Lord appeared to him inside his village Church in Pago Pago and told him to build a wooden cross.

“He then instructed me take it to the countries of the world,” he said.

“The Lord told me not to be afraid or become confused for he will show me where to go.”

Sooga said he was also instructed not to preach to people, endorse a particular religion or belief and never to pass judgement or to respond to people’s taunts.

“Those who see the cross but still do not believe, the Lord shall deal with them in due time,” he said.

“I do not do this for personal glory or to appear extraudinary, but only because of the Lord’s calling.”

He plans to walk up to the Tupua Tamasese Meaole Hospital today and hopefully, to the old folks’ home at Mapuifagalele before he returns to Pago in the weekend.

This morning I had some kind of papaya jam that was so sour it was simply unpalatable. The quality of the food has gone way down since Tupu has taken sick with mata piniki and given over the the morning food prep chores to my sister-in-law Moana. No fruit salad. No banana pancakes. Instead I get stuff like this jam and cold canned spaghetti on bread. Have you ever had cold canned spaghetti on bread? Don't bother. It's much worse than it sounds.

Well there's only a little more than a week left in the village and and while I will leave with mixed feelings, I will be seriously happy to be able to prepare my own food again.

I bet you didn't know it was International Volunteer Day. Who the fuck cares? To honor this day, we dragged our asses out of bed at some ungodly hour so that we could get to Apia by 7:30 for the march from the fire station to the government building with all the other volunteer groups in Samoa (VSO from UK, AVI from Australia, VSA from New Zealand, YMCA, Habitat for Humanity, etc, etc.) I don't know who's bright idea this, but I wasn't thrilled about it.

The procession was led by the police marching band which was, I must admit, very cool. I'm curious how such a small police force is able to muster an orchestra. You must be able to become a police officer automatically if you can play the tuba, the oboe or some other obscure palagi instrument. However they manage it, there they were marching and belting out tunes.

The march was followed by a ceremony at the large Samoan fale near the Ministry of Internal Affairs. It was, typically, a dull, boring affair with speeches by the faife'au and all the usual suspects. I spent most of time outside chatting with Cherelle Jackson, reporter for the Samoa Observer and girlfriend to a PCV named Nathan who's about to COS.

I'm still amazed at the lack of formality at the ANZ bank in Apia. I was able to set up and account with no identification. No drivers license. No passport. No nothing. I just showed up with the group of Peace Corps volunteers and Silao, the head trainer, signed a few documents and that was that.

I love that we're going to have ATM cards here. It just seems like such an odd thing for a Peace Corps Volunteers, even though I know there are PCVs around the world with all sorts of modern conveniences, cell phones, refridgerators, even servants. It still seems strange.

It's lunchtime and I'm sitting here in Matautu in my fale surrounded by four kids, Lelefu, Sala, Fala and Timu.

Lelefu is my youngest brother. He has long hair and all last night I thought he was a girl. We walked down to the store (fale'oloa) after dinner and I was tickling him the whole way. Of course, the entire time I'm thinking he's a she. Common mistake.

Sala is my cousin. He's my little buddy. He likes to follow me everywhere.

Fala is his brother. He's 3 years old. He is naked all the time.

Fofoa, my youngest sister, arrives wearing a blue dress with a white collar. I'm surprised that the kids' clothing is so dirty.