Manuia le Malaga! - Have a nice trip!

“I’m going to town tomorrow.” This statement means something different for every volunteer. For some volunteers who live near Apia, it means they’re hopping on one of the many busses in their area. In about thirty minutes, they’ll be in the Peace Corps office with Air Conditioning and computers with internet. They will probably leave and head home in the evening. Volunteers who live further away on Upolu might have to wake up earlier, walk further to the nearest bus, and leave town a couple hours earlier. For those of us on Savaii, it’s a little more of a process. For those of us further from the wharf on Savaii, it means taking a long bus trip to the wharf, a long ferry ride, and yet another bus. This is easier said than done. There are about seven of us who live an hour or more out from the wharf, and my trip is convenient compared to some people.

Here is what a typical trip is like for me:

Part one: Getting to the wharf on Savai’i

I have about 6 or 7 opportunities to catch a bus to the wharf if the buses are running regularly. Some volunteers have more, a few have less. I typically choose to leave at 6:30 because it isn’t crowded, and I’m waiting for the bus right as the sun comes up. I cross the street and wait under a street light (so my family can watch me and know I’m safe) 30 minutes before the bus is supposed to come, because you never know if it will show up early.

Here comes my bus

 If I miss the 6:30, the next bus is usually pretty crowded, and I mean CROWDED. Every person sitting has another person in their lap. People are squeezed as tightly as they can be in the aisles, and the spaces under the seats are filled with suitcases and woven baskets full of taro and roasted pig. The people on my bus are awesome, because they always try to make space for Peace Corps volunteers to sit. Any time I offer my seat to someone in the front of the bus, another seat will magically materialize for me in the back. Sometimes I have to hold a child or teenager in my lap, but it could be worse. Along the drive we stop a few times at different stores, and the young men will run out to do the shopping for the passengers as quickly as possible.

Wasn't joking about the baskets full of pig

 *I typically spend the night in a hotel once I’m in Apia, but if I want to save money and take a day trip, it means taking a bus at 2:30 in the morning so I can catch the 6am ferry. I take the bus for about 30 minutes in the opposite direction of where I need to go because once it loops back to my village, it’ll be too crowded to get a seat and I might find myself sitting on an old woman’s lap!

This wooden bus is decorated with a Last Supper towel

 It usually takes about an hour and a half to get to the wharf.

Part two: From island to island

If I catch the early bus, I might be able to just make the 8:00am ferry (if I hustle, and if it’s actually running). If not, I wait two hours for the next one. The 8:00am is a smaller boat. Sometimes, there will be wooden benches on the bottom level, and they are really nice on a sunny day. But I once took that boat a few days before a cyclone, and I would have stayed dryer if I swam to Upolu. The other small boat has no seats, but there are wooden crates that hold life vests you can sit on. The big boat has plenty of room to sit, and indoor areas, so it is definitely more convenient. The big ferry also takes about an hour to reach Upolu, while the small ferries can take twice as long.

Goodbye rainy Savai'i

 

We pass smaller islands when we are halfway there!

Part three: Nearly there

Where you sit (or sleep) on the small ferry

As the boat is docking, everybody rushes and squeezes together near the doors for the mad rush to the buses. Again, you need to hustle to get a seat. There are usually fewer buses at the wharf on Upolu than there are on my island, but people on this island are much less likely to make a seat for me just because I’m white, so there is a good chance I will be standing in the aisle. The bus drivers on this route love to blast the music as loud as they can, and someone always smells like fried chicken, so I’m usually pretty happy when we finally make it into Apia after an hour. We all get off the bus and I either catch a cab or take a long walk to the Peace Corps office, where I crash in the nearest room with air conditioning!

Part four: Homeward bound

Colorful wooden buses are always coming and going

When it’s time to go home, I usually plan to take the last ferry at 4:00pm. That means saying goodbye to everyone as early as 1:15 to rush off to the bus depot. The bus can leave anytime between 1:30 and 2:30. It can be delightfully empty, but typically, it’s horribly crowded. After the hour long trip, I usually get to the wharf with about an hour to wait for the ferry. It’s best when I have other volunteers to wait with. 

With Robert on another small ferry

The last boat is always the fast, large one, so I’m guaranteed a seat and a crowd. Fifteen minutes before the boat docks, we all squeeze on to the steps leading to the door. As soon as we can, we rush to the many, many crowded buses to try and get a seat. 

Who will be the first out the door?

There usually isn’t enough time to say goodbye to other volunteers, so we wave to each other out the windows of our different buses, and head in different directions. After an hour and a half, many stops at different stores, lots of rearranging of the seating arrangement, and plenty of absolutely stunning scenery, I finally make it to my village. I get off the bus and walk pass my family’s house where the children run up and ask, “manaia le malaga?” Did you have a nice trip?

Bye! I hope whoever sits on your lap took a shower today!

Time in transit: 10 hours (if I’m lucky)

Total cost: $44

Sure, it was a nice trip.

Day in the Life

I’ve been in country for a year and a half, and I realize that a lot of people at home still don’t much about my day to day life, so here is a break down. I started trying to make a schedule with actual times, but life does not fit into a schedule here, and clocks are mostly decorations.

A typical day in the life of this Peace Corps volunteer

Before School: I wake up, and spend about 15 minutes lying in bed reading a book I downloaded to my phone while the sun comes up and the village begins its morning symphony. It starts with the ocean and maybe some rain, but soon comes the call of a rooster outside of my window followed by his buddy on the other side of my house. Like dominoes, this is part of a chain reaction of a network of chickens. Next comes the sound of the grunting pigs (some volunteers call the pigs outside my bedroom windows Dinosaur Pigs because of how loud and primitive their grunts get) and crying babies. Shortly after, we get mothers yelling at their children, children yelling at each other, and toddlers yelling for the sake of it!

      When I get annoyed with listening, I know it’s time to get ready. I put on a different puletasi depending on the day (On Wednesdays, we wear purple). I slick back my hair into a bun without a mirror (it fell and broke during the cyclone). Buns are the only culturally appropriate hairstyle. Hair down and sometimes even ponytails are unacceptable, and braids are typically worn by children. I boil some water for my instant coffee, read a little more while I drink it. I fill my water bottle and usually add some more water to my water filter for after school.

      I love my walk to school. I take a dirt path tucked about 50 feet back from the road, and I get to socialize with different families. Everyone who sees me hollers hello. I get invited to sit and drink tea with the families, even though I’m typically running late, and I even have a little kid who runs out to meet me for a kiss most mornings. I get to school, say hello to all the mothers who hang outside my classroom, and I prepare my classroom for the day.

During School: This is a vague description, and things are always changing. Sometimes in the morning, kids have assembly where they sing hymns, read the bible, pray and a teacher gives announcements. Other times, children comb over the school grounds for rubbish while older students build a fire to dispose of it. Other times, children go straight to their classrooms for hymns and prayers and jump instantly into lessons. I pull groups of 5 to 10 children at a time and teach English literacy lessons. We can end anywhere between noon and 2:30, and most days, we don't eat, but sometimes a teacher will bring crackers or ramen to share with everyone. After school, I try to do reading clubs or prepare my materials for upcoming classes if I can. I try not to be the last teacher at school because I’ve definitely been locked in the school compound (which means hopping the fence) and even my classroom (which means standing at my windows and hollering until a neighbor or someone on the road comes to liberate me).

After school: I come home, rip off the now incredibly sweaty puletasi, and I either wash it on its own with a bar of laundry soap, or I start a load of bucket laundry. Either way, I’m washing my clothes while I take a shower. I might make a snack (bread and butter, ramen, a hardboiled egg if I’m feeling fancy) but I typically take an hour or so to just be alone. I read or watch old tv shows off my hard drive for a little while. Then I do any paper work, lesson planning, or whatever else I need to do. Once it cools off outside, I take care of my house. I have a large three-bedroom house filled with cockroach corpses, termite dust, mosquito coil ash, and dirt blown in from outside. It takes about an hour or more to sweep. Not to mention how many spiders take up residence in the corners, I also have to sweep my walls. I’m not going to lie, I don’t typically get the whole house swept every day, but I have to do it around this time because sweeping at night is strictly forbidden! It’s bad luck. If I worked up a sweat, I might take another shower, or else I go straight to my family’s house.

Evening: Just before sundown, I lock my front door and walk maybe 25 steps to my neighbors’ house. My house is behind theirs, so I turn the corner to come in the front door (opening…most houses don’t actually have doors here), and even though this happens EVERYDAY, the children are surprised and excited to see me. “Peta! Hi Peta! Mama, Peta is coming!” This happens literally every day. Children, I don’t know what you imagined happened to me in the two hours since you saw me at school, but yes, I am still in your village, and I am still coming to your house every night. Nothing is new about this.

     I come in and sit with Mama and we chat about our day. Usually, our conversations are brief since yesterday and today are most likely identical. We watch people come and go from houses and shops, and children roam about either playing games or completing chores. Eventually, a man with a conch shell wanders around the village, blowing his horn and warning everyone that evening prayers (lotu) are about to begin. Everyone drifts back to their houses, and the bells ring out from the church hall…well, not actually a bell. Someone bangs a propane tank with a large stick, but the sound is similar.

A child takes a woven mat out of the bedroom and puts it on the floor for Mama and I to sit on. We all sit on the floor cross legged with a hymn book and a bible. Whichever family member is leading the service tells us which song to sing. The family harmonizes, while I and the youngest children chirp in with whichever parts we know. People in my village do not hold back when they sing. Everyone belts it out with as much power as they can, and it sounds pretty amazing most nights. After the song, the children take turns reading out of the bible. Their parents are teachers, so they gently help them when they make mistakes, and it’s one of the sweetest parent/child interactions I ever get to see here. A family member gives a sermon and a prayer for anywhere between 20 minutes to an hour. We are sitting with our legs crossed the entire time. Usually, by the end at least one child is asleep, and sometimes I am too. No one seems to care. When we finally get to stretch our legs out, the sun is completely down, and the “bells” ring again.

     After Lotu, we play cards for a little while. I taught my family how to play uno, skip-bo, and phase 10, so we play every night. After a little while, someone brings us dinner and I sit and eat at the table with Mama and Susaga (the older women) while the children eat on the floor of the fale o’o (small house) in the back. The other adults eat after the children in my family. In most Samoan families, the children eat last. I eat my meal with my fingers, and I devour my food. Sometimes, this is the first meal I’ve eaten all day because I’ve still been full from last night’s dinner. When I’m finished, I bring my plate to the door for a child to wash my dishes. Another child brings me a large bowl filled with water so I can rinse my hands off, and I say thank you in one of the many ways you can say it in Samoan after eating.

     When the children finish eating, they bring me their homework, mostly English, but sometimes we do Science, Math, or even Computers. Lately, I’ve been tutoring family members on things like typing and Microsoft Word in the evenings. If the children’s homework load is light, I might go sit in the fale o’o with the other adults for a while. We talk about things at school, things in the village, family in other villages, other Peace Corps volunteers, Sunday School, anything new. I always like this time because I always seem to learn a little more Samoan, and the weather is usually cool and comfortable. Most nights, I can see the stars, and it’s beautiful. Whenever I’m tired (anywhere between 8 and 10 PM), I head home. I take another cold shower and crawl into bed. I turn on my fan to drown out the noise of my neighbors and the pigs, and I usually fall asleep watching an old episode of Saturday Night Live on my laptop. 

    And then I start the process over again.

So that's my routine. It's pretty different from my old routine in America, but over time, this has become normal and comfortable, and I don't think I would have it any other way.

Picture Dump

The Samoan word for Peace Corps volunteer is pisikoa, but literally translated, pisikoa means busy rooster. I know it's been a long time since my last post, but I have been a very busy rooster! So instead of writing about my life over the past 6 months, I thought I would share all my pictures, and hopefully, it tells the story. Most pictures were on my phone. Sorry for the poor quality.

School

English Day, culture day, drama club, reading clubs, small literacy groups and Library Time. I've really loved teaching

A year 7 girl helping facilitate activities for a year 4 reading club

Library Time! These kids love to read

Drama Club Rehearsals

Loved the costumes kids made for the 3 little pigs

Don't be fooled by how cute she is. This wolf was big and bad

Love this girl

It was her first day of school ever, and she was like my little shadow all day

Just chopping a roasted pig at the staff meeting

Getting Ready for Culture Day

Culture Day- Green House

Life

Some of my students brought me this mangy kitten, and I thought he looked like a starving house elf from Harry Potter... so his name is Dobby

Dobby, no longer starving

Went to Manono (the small island between the two main islands) to visit a friend. The boats are small and low but the view is lovely 

If I want fruit, I find this kid and his big stick

One year anniversary

The beach in my village

My water filter after one day, my water is dirty

My Monday Uniform- not a good combination with a sunburn

This is a pulteasi (samoan profesional wear): Tunics and floor length wrap around skirts in bright tropical prints

GLOW

(Girls Leading Our World)

In November, the conference was a huge success and the girls all had so much fun

On the ferry ride home

Yes, you girls are soooo cool...

Ferry ride

The most exciting part about the movie theater was the Christmas Tree

Ashlyn and one of her girls

Most of these girls had never been to a movie theater before... or seen a Christmas tree

My girls and I

Volunteer, Stephanie, leading a discussion about domestic violence

Performing skits about domestic violence

Down time in the dorms meant a lot of dancing

Learning about education opportunities on a field trip to a local technical college

Learning about career opportunities

Learning about staying healthy through exercise

Healthy minds/healthy bodies!

Not a great picture but we got a visit from Miss Samoa!

The view from our venue

That's their, "do I get candy?" face

Down time in the dorms. Most girls had never been away from home so a lot of time was spent on the phone

Learning how to paint fabric for a career option

They paint beautiful designs on the fabric

Listening to a local woman who opened her own restaurant and shop

All the glow girls

Ferry ride in 

HVV 

(Host Volunteer Visit)

In November, new volunteers spend a few days with current volunteers to learn what it's like. These three lovely ladies came to my school, we went swimming with the sea turtles, we spent time on the beach and hung out with my family

White Sunday

In October, the children take over church. They do songs, dances, speeches, sermons, prayers and skits in English and Samoan. I helped the Sunday school with the English parts. It was a real time commitment but pretty fun!

English Sermons (Love this Girl)

Crying during a skit because we take acting seriously

This kid can sing

King Solomon

The mother who comes to King Solomon

My principal's son makes a good king

Dressed to the nines

Some skit, I didn't understand

???

little actors wearing rice sacks

dancing

dancing

so much dancing

speeches

Praying while posing

sermons

getting ready

getting ready

My family

Love these

Pretty girl outside a pretty church

so cute

My principal's daughter looked so pretty

the church was so decorated