The paper

My year in Samoa.                                                                                                           29/01/13

I read the paper today. It was a bit on  the trag side, some of the English skills could definitely use improving, but who am I to judge when I pathetically can only speak one language (even if it’s the top dog of languages)…

The paper was in equal measure fascinating and depressing. I sat at the dining room table and read while drinking my orange juice, wishing I had a cigarette or a pipe or something to look fancy with because I was grown up-ly reading the paper. Meanwhile my Asian wife (slash roomie) cooked us up massive portions of fried rice. Quaint bible messages and quirky columns aside, things weren’t looking good: family debt, unemployment and a rise in violence among youth.

Money stuff distresses me in Samoa. In true third/developing world fashion, the uneven distribution of wealth is apparent when you have hulking great SUV’s driving next to the broken down old buses, and mansions next to shacks. It makes it even more disconcerting when you comment on a lovely giant mansion, about 10 times the size of a normal house, only to have the taxi driver grimly say “Pastor’s house”. Family traditions, religious expectations and lack of financial literacy are massive contributors towards the current financial state most families are in. Samoa is begging for change, though no one seems to be quite sure of how to go about getting their shit together, and therefore change doesn’t come. I look forward to looking more into this area, which may be difficult seeing as the topic is fairly taboo.

On the note of church, I haven’t been yet, but am looking to go along this Sunday. I am apprehensive to a point of what I might find. Samoa is a strongly religious country, and unfortunately church pastoring has become a rather lucrative business, and so I will openly say that I am sceptical of the sincerity and authenticity of some of these pastors. It’s probably unfair of me to judge without at least making an appearance first, so I will hold off on unleashing (more of) my thoughts until I have been myself.

On a side note, I had my first day of school today. The kids are BOSS AS (lol), gorgeous little things that were so quiet for the first block, I thought I was teaching a class of deaf mutes. Unfortunately, the glorious silence didn’t last too long, and everyone was busy having a raucous yarn by the end of block two.  Having only 19 kids though means that I am spoilt for choice towards who I want to help, and who I want to leave for dead (jokes) and I have promised them that they will all be massive braniacs by the time they finish in my class. They were pleased by that, only to have their hopes dashed when they realised that I can neither spell, nor do my times tables. I assured them that I had other cools skills like being able to whistle while sucking air IN, not out, and also am really great at reading stories out loud. The best thing is that they call me Ainsley, so I had the rather surreal experience of “Good afternoon, Room 7…..Good afternoooonAiiiiiiinnnnnsssss-leeeeeeey”. Cuties.

Night night and don’t let the bed bugs bite. Seriously don’t, because I try not to but they still get me anyway, and now I have at least 60 bites on my legs, a mild fever, and aches in my joints. Someone webdoctor.com those symptoms for me would you?

Love, Ainsley

Loneliness

My year in Samoa.

Well I’ll start this one off by commenting on the sound outside my window. It’s somewhere between the sounds of a cat screeching, and an old man wheezing for breath. It’s kind of a wheezing screech. It might be some kind of lizard, or bat or something, I’m not really sure. There are so many odd sounds here that I’m beginning to let them slide, and just deal with whatever happens, if it happens; “What do you mean there’s a cockroach as big as your hand flying around in the bathroom?” I also hope it’s outside of my window, and not actually in the house, as much of the wildlife here sees themselves as “the indoorsy type”, and graciously welcome themselves into our home without permission.

Right now I’m feeling kinda pissed off on the surface level, like I want to punch something (perhaps the wheeze-screecher outside my window?) and then on  a deeper level, the dull aching feeling of loneliness (sob, sob). It’s my birthday, and I had a pretty decent one, minus the lack of presents (my presence is presents enough?) and Mum and Dad called to congratulate me on diligently performing the art of MRS GREN for another year. Discussion points included the heat and bedbugs, of which I received a stern warning from Dad “they’re notoriously hard to get rid of. You need an exterminator” “Aaaaah, Dad, I don’t think they have those in Samoa…” It wasn’t of the highest quality as far as conversational material goes (singing the South Park theme song with your sister but exchanging "South Park" for "Samoa" doesn’t really cut it), however I was thoroughly enjoying myself, and was in the middle of chatting and brushing my teeth simultaneously, when the phone network went down. I stared indignantly down at my phone, chastening if for being so rude and disconnecting me ON MY BIRTHDAY. But deeper down than that, I felt the frustration of playing by someone else’s rules- being entirely at the mercy of the quality of the internet/phone network and being isolated when they’re not obliging when I JUST WANTED TO TALK TO MY FAMILY DAMMIT!

Aside from the constant barge of heat, insect bites (sooooo itchy!!!!), strange interactions with nature (there’s a mouse in the house/also my classroom, lizards falling off things onto Liz, lizards jumping out of cupboards on to me, a spider that guards the rubbish bin the bathroom, which I am scared of so consequently I have to throw my rubbish at the bin like a mental), we are starting to settle in to the place and find a routine. School starts tomorrow which I am both excited and nervous about. Excited because a) I have only 19 kids b)it will help give my days some structure and  c)I love teaching. Nervous because a) I have 19 kids that I don’t know that have gone through school together since they were 5 b) because I don’t want to screw it up c) because I just am, alright?

We went to the beach on the weekend, which was perfect, because the beach is perfect. I got very sunburnt which I am both ashamed and proud of, and accidentally referred to myself as a member of a collective group “I’m feeling really dizzy and cold. Sometimes 3^rd degree burns sufferers go into shock, Liz”, which is just embarrassing.

 The other day after school we walked up the road and down a gully to get to a natural waterfall. Prettiest local spot that will die off in dry season, so we are making the most of it for now.

Went to Zumba tonight with some of the most enormous ladies I have ever seen, still managed to be the reddest/out of breath one there. The main instructor kept asking me if I was alright, I think I will have to explain next time that it’s normal for Palangis to turn maroon when they exercise in 30 degree heat.  Judi, one of the older staff members of the school, confidently told me that I would “pick up the moves”. I am fairly sure I will never pick up the speed booty pop/crump move, but I felt pleased by her fierce determination that I would one day be part Samoan with my dance moves.

Anyway, still having trouble sleeping because of the heat/bugs. Last night there was a small earthquake just as I was drifting off, and in my sleep clouded head, I thought to myself “the boat must be moving”.

Gunna head to bed now and probably role play a number of scenarios for tomorrows meet and greet with the class (“Turn to the first page of your poetry text book. Now rip it out!” “Welcome to Potions class” “I’m Miss Honey”).

Xxxxxxxxxxx Ains

Life in Paradise

My year in Samoa                                                                                                                            22/01/13

I write you today, with my experience of Samoa. Raw and at times probably unpleasant/depressing/whingey/boring. If you cringe at emotions and strange wondering/self-confessions laid bare, I would start running in the opposite direction now, or at least click out of this blog site. I want my portrayal of Samoa to be real, not a whimsical fantasy version of life on this island.

I guess, though, that at times it will be just that, because Samoa has its moments of being paradise on Earth. In part like walking into a dream, it can come across as idyllic- winding roads snaking into hills shrouded by mist, foliage so green it makes your eyes hurt, azure blue waters that, if you took a picture of them on a fine day, you wouldn’t even have to edit to chuck them on a postcard or a travel magazine cover.

But for all its beauty, Samoa has it’s hidden vices, that I am slowly learning to adjust to. The heat, for example, is oppressive. People back home are always saying how lovely it would be to go for a holiday ‘somewhere hot’. Of course it is lovely to go ‘somewhere hot’, as long as you have air conditioning, or a fan, or a large expanse of cool water within walking distance. Day to day existence in Samoa- for most of the working (or largely unemployed) class people is a steady hum drum of doing menial chores in over 30 degree heat with no means to cool down. Sure, people say “they are used to it”. And they are. They have adapted to the heat, if by ‘adapting’ can be classed as lying around in open fales, moving very slowly, and taking on that sluggish appearance that most of us get within minutes of being in the heat. It’s nothing against them, and I am a sluggish face heat sufferer too. I’m doing my best not to look mentally impaired at times like orientation day at work, but my alert expression of intelligent interest only lasts so long before my eyes glaze over and mouth hangs open slightly. It’s not all bad- when the rain comes the temperatures cool down substantially, and aside from those living inland, most people are near enough to a water source that they can cool off, in the wet season anyway. In the dry season I’m  told that most fresh water supplies dry up, thankfully it’s a few months before I have that to deal with.

I guess another vice could be the size of the place- though I guess that’s your perspective on it. Already I am getting that anxious feeling of being trapped; my greatest fear. Never have I been one for planting solid roots (obviously), something I attribute to moving around a lot as a kid, though who really knows. Pop psychology might tell me that it is a fear of commitment, of the successes and failures staying in one place might bring. Religion might say I’m searching for something in my travels that I will only find in God. It used to keep me up at night, torn between the fear of leaving my friends and family, and fear of staying. Innate boredom when at home, innate longing for home when I’m elsewhere.  No disrespect to family or friends, whom I love beyond anything else. “It’s not you, it’s me”. Apparently, like the U2 song, I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

However, I digress, and I really was discussing the size of the island. As far as islands go, I think it’s a fairly big one, though I don’t know for sure because I don’t have a large range of experience to compare it to. I would say it might take 2-3 hours to drive the perimeter, cutting through the island’s inland hill (mountain?) range is quicker. A small collection of supermarkets, stalls, and a scattering of retail shops makes up Apia’s shopping experience. It’s hardly as if I have come from Tokyo or New York or anything, but in comparison Hamilton seems like a buzzing metropolis to the sleepy little Apia. I think more than anything it’s the NO GETTING OUT factor that gets me- there is, genuinely, no place to go.

If I sound negative or somehow regretful of my decision, I assure you I am not. I am merely trying to share a real experience, not provide you with an illusion. Not all my posts will like this one, though I’m sure they will have their place. It is after all, my year in Samoa, and these experiences are consequential in what will eventually make up my overall experience of this place. Life in paradise, and I don’t mind telling you this, is taking some adapting to.

Love, Ainsley