Samoan Wedding

This Saturday was a really exciting day for me. Well, even more exciting for my friend Tumau, that was getting married to Kitiona. For me it was easy, getting up at 9.30 in the morning, changing, driving to Elena’s house to car pool to the church (I don’t like showing off my Ferrari at these kind of social events). For Tumau the wedding preparations were many weeks of hard work. Samoan weddings are huge and costly social events, a “fa’alavelave”, translated in Calkin’s book “My Samoan Chief” simply as “trouble”.
The easiest part is hand-delivering all the invitations. Both families (and by “family” I do not refer to the father-mother-son-daughter idea of family, but more to the father-mother-sonS-daughterS, uncles, aunts, cousins, second cousins… kind of family, or, to put it into short terms, nearly the whole village) are involved in the wedding. They need to provide fine mats, money, gifts that will be joined together and then again redistributed between the chiefs and the rest of the families. Apparently, not many gifts actually make it to the couple.
The church ceremony was nice, but the reception was truly great!

(Me, in the blue dress, taking a pic of Tumau and the maids of honors)

We had a couple of hours break between the two (time that the family use to do their fa’a samoa gift exchange) in which we made sure to go to the local store to change some money to have $1 bills available for the siva (the dance). The siva happens after all guests are seated, according to their status, and before the food is served. During the siva, the newly wed couple dance with a support group as other guests throw dollars at them. At the end of each song, the couple goes back to their table to rest for about 3 minutes as the kids collect the money and somebody (like our director) makes another speech and invites another group (like our working group) to dance. Tumau and Kitiona were dancing all the time!

(Tumau and Kitiona -in white- dancing in front of our working group -on the background-. Notice the dollars on the floor!)

There is something here in Samoa that gives an agency director some extra power: if he says “sing” then we have to go to singing practice (this happens every Christmas when all government employees have to sing for the governor and practice 2 hours everyday for a month); if he says “pull the weeds” then we have to pull the weeds from the parking lot and clean the cars and the cubicles; if he says “paddle” then we have to get out with the outrigger and give our lungs for him (this also happens on a regular basis when we have intra-agency paddling races); if he says “dance” we have to get up and dance. When I first came on island, it felt bizarre. I used to think, “this is not in my job contract”, but you actually get used to it, and I am now very proud to represent my agency. And so we danced, in front of all the guests, with Tumau splendidly dancing in front of us in her white wedding dress. Although I don’t think our dance made lots of money, sorry Tumau!
After the guests speeches and the following siva finished, the food was finally served. High chiefs from the bride and groom’s villages were first served, then the ministers and priests, then the ranking members of the extended family, then the parents of the groom, other important guests, and all the other guests. The food is not served into plates, but comes directly into plastic trays with plastic covers, ready to be taken home and shared with the rest of family. It is so much food that few persons could eat it all by themselves, and anyway it is meant to be eaten in one day only. My tray even had a lobster! Plus canned corned beef (of course!), 2 fish steaks, cooked pig, Samoan chop suey, macaroni salad… the only vegetables presence in the entire serving was represented by a few skinny carrot’s strings in the pasta salad.

(this is Nate in front of his tray - he got a crab-. PS: I love that yellow flaming shirt!!! You can get one just like that if you come to live here!)

Toward the end of the meal (well, how long do you need to dwell over such a plate? Weeks??), the best man took the microphone and gave his speech. Apparently he was a good speaker and everybody was paying attention and laughing. Not me, because it was all in Samoan and I could not understand anything and Elena and I were chatting about something. Then he started his speech again in English, for those English-speaking guests. He said how he does not like to speak English but if a woman can only say a word in Samoan then his heart would be hers. In particular, there was an English speaking woman at the reception that caught his attention, and he already asked her director to have a dance with her, and he is all for her if she makes a sign. She was the palagi woman wearing the long blue dress. At that point, everybody turned around, looked at me, and started laughing (he was looking toward me during the entire speech, so it was quite obvious where I was…) and the people around me were patting me on the shoulder “Malo, Barbara”, “Well done, Barbara”. I was so embarrassed that I could not even understand the rest of his speech, all I know is that people were still staring at me and laughing… And by “people” I mean 300 plus guests! Even today at lunch, my office-mates were still talking and laughing about it.
Providentially, the cake came, moving the focus away from me. Of course, if you have a title, you do not get only a piece of it, but a whole cake to bring home. We got a whole one for our agency that is now patiently waiting in the office fridge for the director or Tumau (I guess) to cut it. I am quite startled by that too, because food in the office fridge disappears very fast (but do not worry, no one will ever touch your salad), but there is deep respect toward a wedding cake.
I had my dance with the best man, and then Nate drove me home, a quick rest before Poker night!Texas hold’em, or maybe I should say, Barbara hold’em, considering my impeccable skills. I was originally planning to go to sleep early because the day after I planned to go out with the boat again, but I ended up playing with Aaron until 2:40 a.m., when finally I got the idea to split the final prize and go to bed instead!!! EUREKA!

This is Ben "wearing" my hair at poker night




and me with my $$$$!!!

The best place I have ever been

Last night at a barbeque at Maximo’s place, Jeremy, a new contractor working on coral reefs, asked me where is the best place I have ever been. Now, I have not been in many places (and the more I travel, the more I realize how much I am missing), but I still thought that this question needed quite a lot of thinking. So I asked for a day extension in answering and today, after an afternoon nap, I found the answer. Here the essay Jeremy asked me to write in exchange for the extension.

The best place I have ever been. Quite a broad question. The best country? The best location? The best moment? The best feeling? I could have so many different answers based on countless singular shades of feelings I experienced in my life.

But yes, there was a very special moment in my life when a seed was planted in my soul. Today I can see how many of the adventures I lived are nothing but the fruits that had grown from that seed planted many years earlier.

I was about 10 years old. I remember that because the winter before it snowed in Rome, and everything closed up, including schools. I was very excited to go on holiday with my family and I was hoping to get extra days due to snow that year too. Usually, every summer my family (and sometimes family’s friends) would go for a tour to some other countries, and then rent a house next to the beach somewhere. But that year the big trip was reserved for the winter. KENYA

The plan was to spend some time taking a photographic safari around the country, and then spend some relaxing time visiting friends in Malindi, next to Nairobi.This holiday would satisfy my mamma’s deep love for nature, and my papa''s spirit of adventure. I think these are the two main qualities I inherited from them, and in this trip I experienced them both as my very own.

Unluckily, I cannot remember much of what I saw then, but if I close my eyes, I can experience all the excitement, the beauty, the surprise, the wonder, the fear, the commotion, the peace that that place left with me.

And this was my magical moment: it was early morning but I was already awake. I liked waking up early in the morning because the armed guards that walked around in the resort did not have many tourists to look after and I knew they could give me lots of attention and they would show me things that I otherwise would not see without the help of their trained eyes. Plus, in the morning there was a concert of singing birds and screaming monkeys that wouldn’t let me sleep even if I wanted to. At that time my English and my Swahili were at the same level, but when you are a little kid, you do not need many words to communicate. The night before a guard escorted me to my room because there were some lions around, and you know, lions like little Italian girls like me for dinner. It’s said we taste like pasta with the best red wine ragu sauce. He told me to lock myself into the room and then said something like “See you tomorrow”. I thought he wanted to see me in the morning and as a result I got up early to look for him.

Suddenly, as I was roaming around, my moment of glory: at the horizon, again the red sky of the morning sunrise, I could see the silhouette of a group of elephants walking. Even if they were far away, they looked so huge. It was overwhelming, not only because the moment was so beautiful, but also because that view was my very own trophy, something I found by myself, without anybody pointing me to it. I could do it! I could find gems on my own. I guess that was one of my first revelations as an individual, and what I felt was that I loved all: the nature, the horizon, the feeling of discovery. And that those feeling were something I was designed to look for in my life.

I was breathing deeply, tasting every second of it, for those few minutes they felt like a lifetime, until my guard-friend hit me on the head. I looked up at him. He was so tall, so dark, so different from me, and with the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. I felt like he understood me and he smiled in approval.

Kenya left a deep mark in all our souls; it is called “febbre d’africa” in Italian “african’s fever”. Whoever goes to Africa has to go back. We talked about going back many times, about buying a house there. I remember flying back to Italy and finding a cold winter, we were all so confused, why did we leave Africa?

My brother went back many times, my parents disappeared once when I was living in Wales and then I discovered that they were in South Africa. I never went back. I guess I am due now. My next experience won’t be the one of mass tourism that I experienced when I was 10, it scares me, but it is due. That was the best place I have ever been in my life. The best place for me. The one that inspired me to be what I am today. KENYA.

Love, butterflies and other short encounters

Today I had a great day. I went out with some NOAA folks to take a video of the seafloor at different locations offshore of Tutuila. It is nice to see what there is 30 to 100 meters underneath the sea surface without getting too wet and cold. I saw lots of corals, and also lots of dolphins, and lots of sky. The one million dollar question came from Emily as we were getting out of the Pago Pago harbor when she asked me,: “do you get seasick?”. I paused for a second, thought, and then I replied, “Well as a matter of fact, yes, I do”. Nothing else was said about it, personally I was surprised at how I could have not thought about it before, probably Emily was thinking about the same. Not surprisingly, I spent most of the morning either with my head overboard (feeding fish…), or laying on my back looking at the sky and the clouds. That wasn’t too bad overall, because it gave me lots of time to actually think about my favorite subject…

LOVE

If you know me, you also know that I have a big heart and that one of the things that makes me happy in life is to be able to love and to be loved back. Don’t get me wrong. I am not talking about having many partners, I am talking about caring for somebody, having relationships with friends in whom you know you can always open your heart and be true to yourself and to them.

When I came to this island I found these things a bit challenging. I was in a relationship that needed work; I was living out in the jungle, separated from the rest of the world by a terrible road that I would never drive after night with that old truck and that in a way kept me from meeting new people… It was just he and I. Or just I whenever he had stuff to do, and that happened a lot.
When I came I here I was thinking: “white sand beaches fingered by palm tress, the sound of the waves breaking on the coral reef, tasty pina coladas, and gardens always in bloom… This is the perfect place for a year-long honeymoon”. I am sure I wasn’t the only one thinking in this way, as I know I wasn’t the only one to have a relationship that ended while here. The main challenges about love on a rock are:
-There are very few ways out. You can’t just say “I need some time by myself”, because the island is small!
-A woman should not go around by her own anyway.
- Gossips! La isla es chica! Everybody knows about everybody! I heard of a couple that divorced and made a public announcement about it. I guess this way they are done with the gossip, maybe not a bad idea after all!
-No P.D.A (Public Display of Affection) allowed! That just kills me! I looooove coddles!!!

I can see how many things may have gone differently, but after all I am happy with my decision, with my new house up on the mountain, my room-mate and my cats, my job… wow, I am just happy with all I have! And I am so happy about you all my friends, because “chi trova un amico, trova un tesoro” (“who finds a friend, finds a treasure”) and I love you all a lot! I apologize for being so far away at the moment; you are always here with me

(He and I learning about sex on the island. The word "SEX" is flourescent and it is the only thing that you can actually read at night....)

BUTTERFLIES

Butterflies… jajaja, or jijiji, as Patricia would say… Aren’t those great?
From Wikipedia: “Butterflies in the stomach is a medical condition characterized by the physical sensation of a "fluttery" or "tickling" (hence butterflies) feeling in the stomach. Some believe that this is caused by the release of epinephrine, or adrenaline, when one is nervous, pulling blood away from the stomach and sending it to the muscles. This in turn causes the stomach to temporarily shut down, possibly the reason for loss of appetite when one is "love sick". Butterflies in the stomach is most often experienced prior to important events, when stress is induced, but can be experienced in situations of impending danger.”

To me, butterflies mean that I am like a teenager again, that everyday is perfectly shining (if there is sun) or perfectly fresh (if there is rain) or just perfect (if there is a holiday or if it is a weekend). I am not really a butterfly hunter, but apparently they have been around me for a while. Sometimes they come because somebody puts bugs into my ear, and they keep me busy and fresh and entertained. Other times they merely totally surprise me after fun salsa dancing (my very weakness!), and they totally blow my mind off. Or they just come, take me and fly me away and they transform me too into a butterfly.

It is definitely a release of adrenaline for me, it makes me younger and stronger.

The problem with the butterflies you meet here is that they have tendencies to migrate (on Thursdays and Sundays, naturally). And I stay behind, looking at another plane taking off, thinking “wow, what did just happen?”

SHORT ENCOUNTERS

Again, don’t take me wrong here. I am not talking of anything like an episode of “Sex in the City”. As a young girl I was taught that short encounters with guys are not proper, and I still think in the same way. I am more talking about something else special: because sometimes you meet a person for a very short time, but they still have a lasting effect on your life. And I have met some special people here, people that cared about me a lot even if they did not know me for too long and that opened my eyes, and people that made me re-discover things about myself I long forgot.

Y en particular, me encanteria mencionar a Antonio Luis, que encontre’ en el aereopuerto de Londres despues de 3 largo y dificil meses en Italia, en rota de regreso a Samoa, y que me regalo’ su reloj para ayudarme en mi camino. El fue el primero que me hizo acuerdar de quien realmente soy y que, aun si no lo sabe, me dio’ mucha fuerza para seguir mis dias!!! Gracias de corazon! Ojala que la vida sea contigo tan generosa como tu fuiste con migo!!!

This post is for all those people that made and continue to make my life so special…

And these are the people here in Samoa that last month helped me so much standing up again in my own feet:

My Argentinian Peruvian family where I lived for more than a month when I was deciding what to do with my life (making gnocchi on Christmas day): behind me Zack, and the other side of the table, Marina, Flavia and Maximo. Missing in action (probably eating) Oscar, and off-island at the moment, Ayla.


And Samudra, that came from somewhere very cold and very far that i can never remember, that cuddle me, fed me with the best sri lankan food, and that stayed next to me when the most i needed her!!!
thanks girl!!






(and many more that supported me from all around the world by telephone, internet and antennas... bzzz bzzzz)

Palagi for a week -guest appearance-

Talofa from the pale palagi in American Samoa! Here’s a guest appearance in Barbara’s blog from her friend Stephanie. I arrived 5 or so days ago, and I’m having a wonderful time so far. So, I’ll just start from the beginning…

Last Thursday Feb. 7, the plane touched down in AS late in the evening, and I found myself smacked instantly with the heat after a chilly plane ride from Honolulu. Waiting by the baggage claim roundabout, it was hard not to notice that I seemed to be one of the few obvious foreigners. Probably even more striking considering that I came from tourist heaven Honolulu. Where are the white socks and shorts and dangling cameras in this tropical paradise? Actually, this lack of tourists was a welcoming theme at this point as things seemed less contrived. What you see is what you get, I suppose. However, the flip side is that less services are available to people who don’t know their way around—but good news is that Barbara was waiting to pick me up as soon as I left customs. She ran up to me with a lei and a kiss on the cheek, so great to see her again! I quickly met a couple of her friends who were also hanging out in the airport (the place to be I hear), and then we were off to home. Ever since, she’s been an awesome guide to have on the island. Barbara, you might consider starting a second career as a trip planning and activities guide! Maybe you could do a work exchange for things that are hard to find, eh? Like herbal tea, Limoncello, olive oil, new books, and truck parts (like that fan belt)? An idea!

We’ve done lots of things—from exploring on the Mt. Ava trail in the national park, to diving in the bay on coral reefs, to relaxing in the shade at Sliding Rock, to hosting a gnocchi party. And the fun goes on, believe you me. Tonight Tai-Kwan-Do and tomorrow a traditional Samoan “Umu” meal.

Happy to have this island experience and thanks to Barbara and Alyssa for hosting! Off to Samoa (Western) on Thursday, and then New Zealand, before back home to WA on Feb. 25. Just wanted to share a couple tidbits so far. Ciao bella!

Stephanie from Olympia, WA

Thursday nights at the airport

Island’s nights are easy, relaxing. Sitting on a porch, sipping Vailima (the local beer), “hanging out” (as Americans say) and enjoying the breeze after a hot hard day of intense work (this last line is actually a joke). Not much going on in general… there is a (one) cinema, and few bars widely stretched across the island… usually too much driving on broken roads…

But something special happens on this island every Thursday and Sunday. In many other countries it is something taken for granted, but here it is a real special event: the Hawaiian airline plane flight HA465 lands on this rock in the middle of the Pacific. It comes and it takes all the landing strip to land, downloads its precious cargo (lots of Samoans, a few Palagis, food and the bi-weekly mail delivery!!!), gets loaded again and takes off the same night, as if it would get lost (or stolen) if it spent the night here. After all, this is Neverland.
Suddenly the airport becomes the main attraction on island, THE PLACE to be to see who is leaving and who is coming, to meet friends, and why not, even to distribute the filariasis medicines that everybody living in this island is supposed to take once a year. Once there was a dancing show at the airport’s fale (the traditional Samoan house), pretty girls were dancing happily spinning around big knives the size of machetes. Security at the airport is not an issue here.
There are people everywhere, with their colorful and flowered cloths, chatting, laughing (there is always somebody loudly laughing somewhere), selling lais (necklaces made of flowers) underneath the fale and there are kids, tons of kids, running all over the place.
The queue to check in starts at 6.00pm and it last until a few minutes before the plane is supposed to take off, about 10.30. Passengers coming from Hawaii keep on pouring out of customs until 11.30, and sometimes later, there are always some bags that are lost…

This makes at least 5 full hours of intense life in the airport: all for just ONE flight.

We do get other planes too, but they are only 8 to 20 passenger planes that fly between the other Samoan islands. On Wednesdays we get the weekly cargo plane loaded with food or orders for shops on island. Any other big plane flying not on thrusday or Sunday night is considered a U.F.O. (Unidentified Flight Observed). Usually it turns out to be the FBI plane, and that means that somebody in the government is in trouble once again… (actually I saw one today, eyes on the news!!!)

This Thursday the Hawaiian airline plane stole something precious from the island, but also brought me a present.

Edna, my boss, finished her contract and she was leaving with her husband Peter to go to Australia. She has been much more than a boss to me, a friend, a mom, and I am going to miss her terribly. Her shoulders were covered with lais, gifts from friends wishing her farewell. In Samoa P.D.A. (Public Display of Affection) is generally not accepted, but Pago Pago airport is that special place where all hugs and stolen kisses just feel so right. I stayed with Edna and Peter until they went through security, and then I walked to the fale waiting for my present to come out from customs.

The present that this Thursday flight delivered to me was my friend Stephanie, from my Oregonian days, about 4 to 2 years ago. It is just wonderful receiving visits from the outside world. They brings news, excitement, memories from the old days, and gifts like milk chocolate, tea, or hummm, parmigiano, polenta, olive oil…. (these are hints for you readers that will come to visit me! ; ) )
When the plane lands, it drives all the way to the front of the passenger waiting area, where stairs are attached to the plane’s door. The temperature inside the plane is so ridiculously cold that when the passengers walk out the door, the humidity and the heat of the island simply slaps them in the face, one by one, and they start breathing like fish out of water. And finally you realize the uniqueness of this island when you pass underneath the "terminating passengers" sign as you walk to reach costums.

This is your second truly Samoan experience. The first one is actually the check-in in Honolulu, when you think you have 5 people ahead of you in the queue, and then you realize that each person actually represents a whole family, sitting somewhere behind you, just waiting for a sign to run at the desk. Then you see the colossal amount of staff that they check in (yes, I am happy with chocolate and polenta, but they can check in television, fridges… all sort of staff that is very expensive on island and cheaper outside). Or in the plane, when the hostess justifies the delay because they ran out of seat belt extensions (for big people) and they are waiting to get some more.

So, Stephanie is here, very happy and very excited, all ready to explore this beautiful island. She loved riding in my flaming Ferrari and she got settled in my mansion with a view of the sea. And most importantly, she came with a huge quantity of tea that will last half a year! Tea is something that Alyssa and I love, but there is not much of a choice here.

The next thing I requested from off-island is a fan belt for my other Ferrari, because it seems like there is another one of those particular island shortages of this particular item….