fast updates...

i know i have been totally absent for the all week but... the Pacific Art Festival is amazing! I just can never get enough of it, and mixed with work (I start at 7:30 am and finish at 4:00 pm) I really had little sleep lately... plus I am working on many many side projects... but, here a found a replacement for my stories and pictures, assuring you that I will write here soon! I have many thinks to tell... I saw dancing topless girls and guys with G-strings, scary masks, a toga/60s party at Oscar, and I even met a girl that studied in Bangor a master in Ocean Science, whose fiance is a good friend with my long lost Portuguese boyfriend! I insist... it is a small world!!
Enjoy this site!!!
http://mypacificstory.com

the Pacific Art Festival is here!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I am proudly announcing the start of the 10^th Festival of the Pacific Art!!!

What does this mean? It means that, right now, in Tutuila, there are 27 representatives for islands in Polynesia, Micronesia, Melanesia.

(That is: American Samoa, Australia, Cook Islands, Easter Island, Federated States of Micronesia, Fiji Islands, French Polynesia, Guam, Hawaii, Kiribati, Marshall Islands, Nauru, New Caledonia, New Zealand, Niue, Norfolk Island, Northern Mariana Islands, Palau, Papua New Guinea, Pitcairn Islands, Samoa, Solomon Islands, Tokelau, Tonga, Tuvalu, Vanuatu and Wallis and Futuna)

They are here to show and share their traditional dancing, singing, cooking, art crafts, the art of tattooing… There is a vibrant atmosphere full of energy, laughter, mystery… And even the sun finally came out, after few weeks of pouring rain and coldest temperatures ever (I even started wearing closed shoes for few days).

Now, can you imagine an island packed with muscular guys wearing grass skirts, covered with coconut oil, flapping their chests and tights; girls that should need a weapon license for the way they move their hips, with long beautiful hair covering their asses…

It is very hard to go to sleep at night, you never have enough. It is going to last until the end of the month, and then… bed time for a while…

It is wonderful to be here in this moment (I mean, when I am actually out there during lunch break and not in the office working…)… in this case, pictures worth 1000 words! So, Enjoy!

MONDAY, lunch break...

And yes, that man with the red skirt IS the governor of this island! How did you think he looks like?

This is a "portable clinic" that they set up in the beach. I told the doctor that he did a nice job, and he replied "oh yeah, go in, make yourself home..." I think tomorrrow I may be go there for a nap during working hours... beds and view are great! ;)

MONDAY NIGHT AT THE STADIUM

very happy and proud man (with grass skirt and coconut oil)
Women Maori can look as scary as the men, when they open their eyes wide open. Men also stick out their tongues, flat on their chin...


TUESDAY, lunch break...Australian Aborigines getting ready to perform in Utulei beach

Now, isn't this just the best post office you have ever been???


Dangerous hips movement in process...

I insist. Lunch breaks are just my favorite of the day (here with 2 guys from Rapa Niu. Rapa Niu is a territory of Chile, so these guys speak spanish as a first language. It can't go better than this! ;)!

Guys from Rapa Nui -Easter Island- wear a lot of feathers, but that's about it

("beautify your island": another result for getting the island ready for the Festival. Why don't we paint the coconut trees blue???)

(crafting a tree in front of the museum...)

TUESDAY EVENING
(the following 3 pictures are from last night performance... This is performers from the Solomon islands. The play bambu flutes of all dimension, jumping around. The music and the movement are incredibly catchy. It makes you feel happy)
I think these guys were from Papa New Guinea... I need to check on my notebook! very scaring looking!!!
This guys just jumped up and down all the time, singing and playing their drums....

Kava and paint

Wednesday was holiday. Manu’a flag day. That is: Manu’a = a group of 3 islands (Ofu, Olosega and Tau) east of Tutuila; flag day = dependence day. The 16^th of July is the day in which these 3 islands signed the treaty that included them as a territory of the US.

There wasn’t any big party that I know on our island, but the government offices were closed, and that is good for me. Manu’s is a wonderful place, it is said that it is the place were the people of Polynesia came from. Certain areas of the islands are so “sa” (sacred, taboo, no permitted), that many inhabitants from Tutuila discouraged me for going there: “so many ghosts!!! Do not walk alone EVER, do not let your hair down…”.

But what I find even more interesting is the flag of Manu’a.

But let’s start from the beginning, to fully appreciate this artistic revelation. What is the meaning of “Samoa”? “Sa” means “holy, sacred, taboo”, “Moa” means “center” but also “chicken”. Some people argue that Samoa means “Holy center” considering that, as I said before, the people of Polynesia came from. Other people argue that Samoa means “holy chicken”, after a legend about giants and, surprise, holy chickens… (I personally prefer the translation as “holy chicken” as there are chicken everywhere. Note, also, that chickens, pigs and dogs were carried on board of the canoes as a source of food when those first crazy Polynesians were scouting the immense South Pacific looking for islands to live on… so, yes, if you were in the middle of the ocean, I bet a chicken would look very holy to you!!!!).

Very proud of this story, the creator of Manu’a flag decided to place a chicken on it, guarding three eggs (representing the three islands of Ofu, Olosega and Tau)!!! This, naturally, pissed all the believers of the “holy center” hypothesis, and the Manu’a’s flag did not experienced lots of flights (in opposition of samoan chickens that do FLY!! And a lot!!). I wonder how people did see this flag with their own eyes, as, in 2 years, I never saw it.

To me, Manu’a’s flag day was a perfect day to get a bit intoxicated with Vanuatu kava. Kava is the root of a plant, triturated, and cooked into a kind of a tea (ideally, the kava should be first chew by a virgin, but we skipped that step, and also filtered using a sock, but we also decided that a tea filter would work as well). Kava relaxes you, numbs your mouth and your senses…

The Vanuatu kava is supposed to be the strongest, and my friends Brian and Nadia also carefully let it soak for few days in coconut milk to make it stronger. He needed to paint his house, and the offer kava and painting, sounded just like a perfect way to spend the afternoon.

The kitchen was already red when I arrived to their house, the eating room was yellow, and what was left was the living room, to be painted green. Drink, paint, drink, paint…

until there was very little paint left in the bucket.

At the point, a comment: “ops… look… the did not mix the color well at ACE…. There is a bunch of bright green on the bottom…. Oh…. Yeah, this really did not look like the color you choose, in effect… oh well… by the way, I do not think we have enough color left to finish the living room… well, no, we cannot buy more… this color is a mistake, what are the chances they are going to mistake again exactly in the same way…”

But, AUA LE POPOLE! NO WORRIES! The kava definitely kicked in, and life is good no matter what.

So we ended up giving repainting the all living room again (that is not small) with a second barrel of green color. Until, again… “ops…” Nadia gives me the look ‘act cool, like if nothing happened!’. “Maybe if we stretch the color this time we can finish the room… just do not tell anything to Brian yet…”

Yes, it happened again! Even in the second barrel, the paint has not been mixed right! But after all, we all liked the color that ACE choose for the living room, and, yes, we were able to make the paint last long enough to finish the room!!!

(now I wonder again: that sea blue paint that I bought for my bedroom, that really look like smurf blue to me, was it really my choice of ACE choice?) (Noa and I in my mobile bed this morning at Brian's)

...but the food is good...

I did not mention that, on the very first step to get on the path to go to Palagi beach, Lisa slide off the trail, all the way down to beach. She was eventually able to climb up, and continue the hike to the beach. This island is not a place for wimp!
Today, we received her e-mal:

"Okay-- so some of you may know that I fell off a 12 foot cliff hiking on our way to Palagi Beach on Sunday... I came home with severe pain in my leg and also discovered that I had a temperature of 103. I went to the ER at LBJ to have my leg x-rayed and to be tested for Strep Throat. The doctor gave me antibiotics for the Strep Throat and told me that my leg wasn't fractured and basically laughed at me for being a wimp.
So today (um... 4 days later!!!) the doctor called to ask me how my leg was. Here is how the conversation went:

"Oh, hi, this is the Doctor from LBJ who saw you on Sunday, is this Lisa?"
Me: "Yes, oh, how are you?"
Doc: "Oh, how is that leg doing."
Me: "Not so good, it still really, really hurts, not much progress."
Doc: "Oh yeah, that is why I'm calling, I just had radiology look at your X-rays and it turns out
that your tibia is actually fractured." "So can you come in tomorrow at 9am for an appt. with the orthopedic surgeon?"
Me: "I have court at 9am, could I come in later?"
Doc: "OH, you are a lawyer, please don't sue us...."
Me: "hum...... see you tomorrow at 12 noon."

So, yup, GREAT medical care here... great! I'll let you know what fun adventures lay ahead..."

A couple of years ago, another palagi -now off-island-, Jeff, felt on a rock on the beach. The leg hurt a lot, he had very high fever, but the docte or also decided that the bone was not broke. And, in effect, it was not. The only thing that the doctor did not notice for different days, was a external body laying right next to the bone.
So they dedided to remove the external body (Jeff fever was always high) and they found.... a cute little living shell!!

Moral of the story: yes, our hospital is a very scary place to be if you are in need, but at least the food is good at the cafeteria!!! As Brian of Nazareth once said... "Always look at the bright side of life"...

Later on this evening, Liz solved the radiology mistery in one of the many e-mail that followed Lisa's mail:
"Here's the problem. The (meaning the one and only) radiologist doesn't work 24/7 so when a film comes in it is initially read by a doctor that may not recognize a hairline or something (they'd catch a big break though I'm sure, esp if it was jutting out your skin). So the actual specialist looks at the films as needed. It's a triage type of situation like all departments here. Just pretend you are living an episode of MASH-the health care will go up a couple of notches in your estimation. And you did pay $20 (or less) for that visit! And just think-you didn't die today (every day that doesn't happen is a good one)!"

So, now that I know... thinking about my night at the hospital after the car accident... they took a bunch of X-rays at my knees and legs... when I looked at the radiographies, i thought i saw the same kind of line i saw on the X-rays taken for my broken arm (many many many years ago)... The doctor that looked at my X-rays did seems like the doctor from the movie "idiocracy"... As a matter of fact, the hospital did also mysteriously lost all my record (that i could therefore not use for the insurance claim..). So, I will never know if I did brake something too the night of the accident, but that would surely explain why I could not walk for a while!!!

Palagi beach and the realm of tomorrow

Resume of 10 days in Samoa: 2 free lunches offered by the governor, torrential rain, a hike in the mud, a bath on deserted white-sand beach fingered by green palm trees, no yogurt in the stores, a friend of mine gave birth, one national holiday… now it seems to me that my life went back to normality!

On Sunday I went with some friends to Palagi beach, translated into “the beach for white people”. The reason for this “exclusivity” is given to the fact that, to reach the beach, there is a 15 minutes walk between boulders hit by waves, tiny (wide wise) paths on high cliffs, walk on waist deep water (that also requires good timing capability to avoid to be tossed around by braking waves --- another note, forget about getting to or living Palagi beach during high tide)… mainly it is a walk the only palagi (and very few samoans) would do to spend few hours on the beach (before high tides comes and makes the passage very very difficult and somewhat very dangerous too).

The beauty of this beach is that with a 15 minutes walk, you enter in another dimension; you land in the deserted tropical island of Robinson Crusoe. Here you can be noisy if you are playing, relax, even wear a bikini! None will know!

Palagi beach is located on the westernmost point of Tutuila (our island), and, being it a US territory, also represent the westernmost point of the US.

“But Guam is farther west!” Replied Mike. Silence. I visualized a mental map of Polynesia… well, yes, in effect, Guam is definitely farther west... Why would the guidebook say so, then?

Then, the illumination…

In a fraction of a second, my mind left my body, still standing in Palagi beach, and flow high into the sky. I saw the island becoming smaller and smaller, almost immediately disappearing into the extends of the Pacific Ocean. Then, as I was getting farther and farther away, the Americans and the Asian continents appeared into the picture, and eventually I could see our blue planet suspended into the darkness of our galaxy. Rotating. One side sunbathing, the other in darkness. On the Earth, as seen from the place, there was not such a thing as today or tomorrow, or today and yesterday. There was only “NOW”.

But on men’s logical Earth, American Samoa is located in the realm of yesterday, meanwhile Guam is located in the ream of tomorrow.

If the Earth were a dog spinning in a circle trying to bite his tail, we would be the flies on the tail…
insomma, viviamo in culo al mondo!!!

In simpler words… we are located at longitude 170 degree west, incredibly close to that imaginary divides the world into east and west (longitude 180), the international date line that defines where is yesterday, today and tomorrow. We are in the American westernmost point, as few miles west of here, it is east, it is tomorrow!!! Guam (being at longitude 144 degree east) is one of the easternmost territory of the US, and it will always be ahead in time!

I believe this is part of the magic of the island: it often puts you into surreal situations, new standpoints where you get a different perspective of the world or simply, of what you were used to.

And that was Palagi beach Sunday’s magic (it sounds like an ice-cream name…).

it is good to be back home!

I am back! I am back! I am back to Neverland!

I cannot believe it has been a week already, I have just been so busy that time just flow away.

Sunday night, 9:30: the plane from Honolulu landed after 5.30 hours of hibernation. I think I was close to loose my noose to frost bite. Emily came to pick me up and drove me home. All my hidden food (needed to keep sanity for the next few months on island) made it no problem. Just say you work for the government at customs, then smile, and they will let you pass.

One of my cat sleeps on my belly, it is so good to be back home!

Monday morning I took the bus to work. Holiday and sick leaves must be kept for special occasions (like boyfriend return or food poisoning). Even as I enter in my office and see my co-worker I think “wow, it is so good to be back home!”. At 2:00pm I do take 2 hours sick leave and get a lift home and go to sleep until next day… I am so jetlagged!

Tuesday: The music on the bus is so nice that I space out in another tropical dimension and I forget to knock to sign I need to get out the bus. At work, we have a big lunch offered to all staff by our director. I still think “It is so good to be back home!”.

Wednesday: I decide that I am not that jet-lagged anymore and I could try to drive to work with my truckosaurous. I am scared as I put the key into the ignition… would it work??? It starts, even if with some whining. Great! I put reverse to get out the parking. It won’t move. I run and take the bus to work.

Thursday. I decide to try my luck with the truckosaurous again. It starts. It moves. I LOVE MY TRUCK! Maybe after all, I was still very jet-lagged on Wednesday. I think all it was is that the gear did not enter. I take the truckosaurous to have a full oil and filter chance. It deserves it. At work we have an all-staff meeting. The director asks if there is anybody that does not speak samoan. I timidly rise my hand. “How long have you been here? 2 years?” the meeting is held in English and I feel very embarrassed… “tomorrow there will be an Harbor clean up, come with long trousers and close shoes, everybody in the office by 6:30 am, all men are supposed to come to work with own machete”.

I just love the fact that it is given for granted that all men own their own machete. I think I should show up with my own wooden spoon for solidarity.

In the evening, I go to Taekwondo. I spend the first half an hour kicking a fake man. It feels so good! Than stretching, forms… I still think: “It is so good to be back”.

Friday. No office work today, harbor clean up instead. My agency is organizing it, that means that we won’t have half day off like all other government agencies, but we will stay working until late. We collect a shit load of trash from around our office only. I start the day full of enthusiasm, but after very minutes I loose all my spirit. “no, really, that dry leave is not really trash. That aluminum can right next to it, it is!!!”. Oh no! Are they cutting riparian vegetation along the stream??? Why aren’t they collecting the plastic in the stream?”. I could spend a night writing about what is trash in Samoa. Clearly the coming of the plastic is still something quite new and it seems like they do not differentiate between decomposition time of a plastic plate and a plate made from banana leaves.

At 12:00, there is a free lunch for all government workers, and we meet in the park, sing a bit, listen to speeches and then eat. Naturally, the food is served in sterofon plates. I wonder I much trash we created just with the lunch. As I am driving, I see 4 palagi guys that work with me walking in the street. I shout at them “you look like the Beach Boys!”. They really did. Cool sunglasses, Hawaiian shirts, flip flop. Only that I forget that “ea” in English sounds like a long “iiiii”, so what everybody else hears (because, I do not speak with an accent, it is everybody else that is listening with one) is “You look like the bitch boys!!!”. Everybody in my car starts laughing hysterically, I am very embarrassed, especially because one of the guys is our big man from US.EPA.

There are black plastic bags full of trash all over the harbor. We get trucks, the women drive, the men trow the trash in the back, and we will take the trash to the dumping site.

By the end of the working day, I am exhausted. I want to show that I am making my effort to learn samoan, so I when my director asks me how I am, I reply, in samoan that I want to go home to sleep. But "moi" and "mea", do kind of sound similar and can be confused. So I end up telling him that I want to go home to fuck. He smiles, while some of my co-workers offer themselves as volunteers. I am not good at all at languages today…

In the evening, I finally go out to relax! I realize that, as a matter of fact, I did miss everybody. I also realize that my sweat heart is not here. The island always felt different when he wasn’t here, with more reason now.

Saturday: sunrise and sunsets are still something magical here. I miss the sunrise as i sleep in (great!!) I go back home (I do not like driving at night and I slept at Emily’s last night), and I start trafficking in the fridge. There are things left from my cousin that I will never use and I am thinking on how to use it.

Like sugar (I use honey instead for many many many reasons).

The only good use for sugar I know is mixed with water, to make good Limoncello (a digestive drink that we Italians love to drink after lunch/ dinner during the summer). But you cannot find 90 degree pure alcohol on this island, and after a short consultant on the phone with Aaron, I am suggested to use Vodka instead. Fine with me as it comes on a wonderful deep blue bottle that tells me "You must own me". I hope that for next gnocchi night I may have good limoncello to offer.

Mainly, I spent all day in the kitchen making limoncello, fruit salad, focaccia bread, chocolate salami… I missed all this too, it is really good to be back home!

another weekend in Portland

I should make weekend in Oregon kind of a must every once in a while! Weekends here are just always so good! This time with 2 great additions, Maria Jose, that happened to be in Vancouver, Canada, and flow down for the weekend, and Ben that agreed that stopping in Portland on his way from Samoa to Florida (for a conference) was a good idea. We left more or less at the same time, flow for about 12 hours (Ben North-east, and myself east), and met middle way in Portland for the weekend.

In San Francisco airport I randomly met a friend of mine, Andy, leaving from the gate next to mine. Either this is a small world, or I know tons of people!

Biniam and Liz came to pick us up. They had 2 hours to interrogate Ben by themselves, after I also arrived and we went back to Corvallis for the night.

Friday was a rest-try-to-do-staff day. Including going to buy chocolate and pasta barilla for my trip back to Samoa. Of course lunch at the Indian restaurant! I was happy I could show Ben the place where I lived for 4 years… I feel like I have many places I call home, and Corvallis is one of those.

Maria Jose arrived in the evening, so we drove back to Portland, had dinner with Rob at the Eritrean restaurant, and went to pick her up. Rob was able to make a full of himself in 30 seconds with 2 single comments about Ben. For love to Rob I won’t comment of those. Rob, I do love you sooo much! ;)

(ok, just one... Rob commenting on Ben's british accent...)

And Maria Jose arrived!!! And with only a short suitcase! That is unbelievable and left as all speechless, as she usually travels with a hairdryer of mostrodontic dimensions that need a bag by itself. It was such a joy seeing her!

4^th of July!!! In the US this is a big party, kind of a town party (without open and free drinking in the streets), in which people gather to BBQ and do fireworks. We spent the morning walking downtown with Ben, Biniam and Liz, and he afternoon at Ally’s house (and Ally’s bed too, sleeping), with Ally’s family. (the tea group! Liz, Biniam, Ottito linod, Maria Jose, me and Ben)

As Corvallis has been home to me, Ally’s family also welcomed me with open arms when I was living there. It was such a joy seeing them all. Andy (the friend that I met in San Francisco airport) also drove up from Corvallis and joined us.

(Multnomah falls, on the way to Ally's property)

The day we drove east to Ally’s property for another family get together, that for us meant more as a “Biniam-Liz-Maria Jose-Ally-Trevor-Ben-I” get together. I think it has been something like 3 years the 6 of us have not been together like that. It was special to me, and I am glad that Ben got to be part of it. Hiking, BBQ buffalo’s steak and singing around the bonfire, loved it!

Alarm clock set at 4:00 next morning, Ally and Maria did the effort to drive us out of the property to the closest town where we left Liz’s car (that is not good for dirty roads), and then Liz and Biniam drove us 2 more hours west back to Portland, to leave Ben and I at the airport. This time, I will fly south-west, and Ben east.

Every morning

Once I heard a story the sounded like this one:

“Every morning in Africa a gazelle wakes up. She knows that she needs to be able to outrun the fastest lion or she will be killed.
Every morning in Africa a lion wakes up. She knows that she needs to outrun the slowest gazelle or she will starve to death. Every morning in Africa, it doesn't matter if you are the lion or the gazelle. When that sun comes up, you had better be running.”

If there were lions and gazelles in Samoa, this same story would be sounds a bit different:

“Every morning in Samoa a gazelle wakes up. She knows that she does not really need to run, as lions do not run here.

Every morning in Samoa a lion wakes up. She knows that she does not need to run, as gazelles do not run here.

Every morning in Samoa, it doesn't matter if you are the lion or the gazelle. When that sun comes up, relax, and relax and things will eventually get done”.

In Italy, lions and gazelle would be very confused, as life here is an unpredictable mixture of fast and slow. It is slow when the bus is late and you are afraid you won’t make it in time to the train station. It is fast when, after you finally get on the bus, the bus brakes after only 3 minutes and you have to run for 2 km across Florence (but luckily it is 6 in the morning, and even Ponte Vecchio is quite empty from tourists). It is again slow when you jump on the train and you sink in the couch, panting like an African lion in the savannah after she catches the slowest gazelle. It is fast again when you realize that you are on the slow train to Rome (the regional train, it take 3 hours) instead than the fast one (the Eurostar, takes 1.5 hours). So you jump out the regional train, run across the station, this time more like a gazelle chased by a lion. You finally jump on the right train, just as the wheels start whistling. Then you realized you did not had any time to buy the ticket, and there is a surcharge of euro 50 for tickets bought on board. But luckily you are wearing the cute top, slightly revealing, and the ticket-officer is a nice old man that saw you ran across the station and that will not charge you any extra money for buying the ticket on board.

That was my Monday morning, after I went to Florence for a day to visit my friend Claudia and her 1.5 years old twins. One day was enough to totally shut down my biological clock. From “I really would love to have a baby” to “Maybe I am already too old for that!!”.

It is Wednesday now and I am taking is easy on the UA flight from Frankfort to San Francisco. It will take a while anyway and there is not much to do on board. And again, once in San Francisco I will have to run to catch my next connection to Portland. I could have flown directly to Portland, true, but for few days, about 4 weeks ago, just before leaving the island (it has been that long already!?!?), I could not make my mind if I wanted to spend the 4^th of July weekend kayaking in San Francisco or barbecuing in Portland. Guess Portland won this time… 2 very special persons are going to be there, I am so looking forward to see them!

About me and Rome, last week has been very flat, boring and depressing. Rome is an awesome place to be, but I just had to do so much organizing (that, naturally, is quite forcefully against my nature) the next half-year away from Italy that I had no much time for much fun.

Plus, how can people think that the island is hot??? Any Polynesian would appreciate that perfect climate they get on their island after spending a summer in Rome (probably any big city anyway. This is way we have the siesta in Italy. Not because we are lazy, but because it is HOT! And you just want to be in a fresh place digesting the wonderful lunch you just had. Only brave tourists walk around during siesta time.

Well, something great I really wanted to comment is the power of Facebook.

Facebook is a good example of cyber-communities. A place in Internet where you can meet friends (that you already know, or new one), hug them, poke, through octopus, kiss, send messages, play scrabble with, or just secretly spy (see if they are in relationships, seeing somebody, etc…). I recently got into it, and built my own small group of friends. And as my profile was created, somebody found me. More precisely, a high school mate of mine, Cristiana, which I haven’t heard from for the past 10 years.

We went out for dinner, with two more old mates, Chiara and Laura. It is amazing how they did not change a bit, even after 10 years. Even when I asked what are they doing in life, the answers seemed so obvious “of course, what else could you be, an architect!!!” I think it was quite obvious I would have become a scientist even since elementary, only that, even if it obvious that I would at least try to fled the country, I still cannot believe myself I actually made it this far. (maturity trip to Positano)

(Carnival 1998? I am Peter Pan, Chiara is next to me, Valeria behind CHiara, Cristiana is the boyscout and Laura is the pirat behind her)

Last night we went out again, and we had a dinner of ice-cream only (ok, also add some typical sweets from Naples too!) ;) I am definitely going to miss this aspect in my life but, oh well, you can’t really get everything was life, right?