pastor's observation smells spaghetti
1/1/08
A whole new year! 2008…goodbye 2007.
I was talking with a PCV about Faifeaus (pastors); he has been to many different churches and learned a lot about how the churches work in Samoa.. How they sign a contract to provide religious services to a village, and in return, have all their needs met by the village. There is a lot of giving to the church/Faifeau. But I heard a PCV say that a Samoan said he wasn’t giving to the Faifeau, but to God. I think the Faifeau has almost god like authority. The PCV was telling me that the pastor told him he was going to read a passage out of the bible. He said no, he didn’t want to. It seemed to be quite a struggle to come to a compromise. The PCV said he was not happy because he was not asked, he was told—almost ordered.
I talked about cyclones with someone from our PCV group. I have never been in a cyclone. There have been two large cyclones in the early 1990s (90 and 91 I think)…back to back. I was told the cyclones set Samoa back 20-25 years. That is really hard for me to wrap my mind around. One stopped on Savai’i and ground into the island for five minutes. But it was calm at the eye. She said people came back out, only to be terrified when the cyclone moved again. We are right in the middle of cyclone season right now—November to April. I like wind, Ane says not this kind of wind.
I’m learning the power of just sitting and watching vs. the go go go I was used to in America. Just sit, watch, and learn. Observation. Or talking to some women, who want to know if I’m married, and if I want to be married. Our PCV group has talked about how to respond to the question of “are you married?” “ua e fa’aipoipo?” say you have many many wives already. Or say you only date women who are eight feet tall with blond hair. That will cut out all Samoan women. Say something funny and everything’s OK.
A group of five PCV (including me) went for a “hike” today. One of us asked a few samoans about it. One said “oh, it’s just a 10 minute flat walk.” Another said “it’s very steep and about half an hour.” The sign said hike—25minutes. It can be hard to get a straight answer in Samoa. It was up the side of a mountain. Straight up the side of the mountain. The part of Upolu we were staying at was just a bit of beach, road, room for fales, and then straight up the mountain, which is exactly where we went—I was in flip flops, and my AMC (Appalachian Mountain Club) mind said NO NO NO. hiking in sandals is NOT allowed on AMC hikes. Oh well…we are in Samoa now. My legs said thank you for the exercise more than just walking. I was a drippy sweaty mess by the time we reached the top, but the view was so awesome. We saw the blue sea a long way into the distance, the wind patterns playing with the water surface, the white of the waves, the v-shape of the riptides (I didn’t know they were v-shaped—thanks to aaron, our surfer). We reached the top and saw a plantation of Taro and a few other things. Whew, what a “nice” morning walk that would be each day to get taro. I’m so glad it wasn’t raining, making the rocks any more damp than they were. They would be very very very slippery. But they were just right, and I was OK. I only fell down twice. My left thigh was a little sore to the touch the next day.
Tonight we didn’t play a group game, but spent some time on the beach. The stars were twinkling but were slowly being eaten up by the clouds of the approaching storm with its flashes of white. I couldn’t see the lightening; it was hiding behind the clouds.
We had yummy dinners of spaghetti and sauce and wine each night. One of the Samoan ladies in the kitchen who helped us had never done spaghetti and sauce. We said it was a fa’apalagi thing. She seemed interested. There was some live music that we listened to, and after I went up and talked to one of the boys, who is 21, studying tourism at one of the colleges, was playing some music of his laptop. I asked him about a few of the Samoan drums…I was interested...since I play drums. He said he got it from his friend. A round cylindrical thing. He was playing some music from his laptop I liked, so I asked if I could put it on my mp3 player. I shared some of my music with him. I wonder what he thought of it. I gave him my email, and he showed me the email of someone from Finland (of all places!) who came to visit. What a small world.
I’m reading a book called “The Inheritors” (by William Goldberg), which won the Nobel Prize for Literature. I wanted to know what kind of story/language gets a nobel prize. I am struck by how simple the sentences are, but the words are alive. Some examples: “sun was making a stipple of bright spots.” “the hand of habit was on them” (the fire) “the air around Lok echoed with phantom screaming”
A whole new year! 2008…goodbye 2007.
I was talking with a PCV about Faifeaus (pastors); he has been to many different churches and learned a lot about how the churches work in Samoa.. How they sign a contract to provide religious services to a village, and in return, have all their needs met by the village. There is a lot of giving to the church/Faifeau. But I heard a PCV say that a Samoan said he wasn’t giving to the Faifeau, but to God. I think the Faifeau has almost god like authority. The PCV was telling me that the pastor told him he was going to read a passage out of the bible. He said no, he didn’t want to. It seemed to be quite a struggle to come to a compromise. The PCV said he was not happy because he was not asked, he was told—almost ordered.
I talked about cyclones with someone from our PCV group. I have never been in a cyclone. There have been two large cyclones in the early 1990s (90 and 91 I think)…back to back. I was told the cyclones set Samoa back 20-25 years. That is really hard for me to wrap my mind around. One stopped on Savai’i and ground into the island for five minutes. But it was calm at the eye. She said people came back out, only to be terrified when the cyclone moved again. We are right in the middle of cyclone season right now—November to April. I like wind, Ane says not this kind of wind.
I’m learning the power of just sitting and watching vs. the go go go I was used to in America. Just sit, watch, and learn. Observation. Or talking to some women, who want to know if I’m married, and if I want to be married. Our PCV group has talked about how to respond to the question of “are you married?” “ua e fa’aipoipo?” say you have many many wives already. Or say you only date women who are eight feet tall with blond hair. That will cut out all Samoan women. Say something funny and everything’s OK.
A group of five PCV (including me) went for a “hike” today. One of us asked a few samoans about it. One said “oh, it’s just a 10 minute flat walk.” Another said “it’s very steep and about half an hour.” The sign said hike—25minutes. It can be hard to get a straight answer in Samoa. It was up the side of a mountain. Straight up the side of the mountain. The part of Upolu we were staying at was just a bit of beach, road, room for fales, and then straight up the mountain, which is exactly where we went—I was in flip flops, and my AMC (Appalachian Mountain Club) mind said NO NO NO. hiking in sandals is NOT allowed on AMC hikes. Oh well…we are in Samoa now. My legs said thank you for the exercise more than just walking. I was a drippy sweaty mess by the time we reached the top, but the view was so awesome. We saw the blue sea a long way into the distance, the wind patterns playing with the water surface, the white of the waves, the v-shape of the riptides (I didn’t know they were v-shaped—thanks to aaron, our surfer). We reached the top and saw a plantation of Taro and a few other things. Whew, what a “nice” morning walk that would be each day to get taro. I’m so glad it wasn’t raining, making the rocks any more damp than they were. They would be very very very slippery. But they were just right, and I was OK. I only fell down twice. My left thigh was a little sore to the touch the next day.
Tonight we didn’t play a group game, but spent some time on the beach. The stars were twinkling but were slowly being eaten up by the clouds of the approaching storm with its flashes of white. I couldn’t see the lightening; it was hiding behind the clouds.
We had yummy dinners of spaghetti and sauce and wine each night. One of the Samoan ladies in the kitchen who helped us had never done spaghetti and sauce. We said it was a fa’apalagi thing. She seemed interested. There was some live music that we listened to, and after I went up and talked to one of the boys, who is 21, studying tourism at one of the colleges, was playing some music of his laptop. I asked him about a few of the Samoan drums…I was interested...since I play drums. He said he got it from his friend. A round cylindrical thing. He was playing some music from his laptop I liked, so I asked if I could put it on my mp3 player. I shared some of my music with him. I wonder what he thought of it. I gave him my email, and he showed me the email of someone from Finland (of all places!) who came to visit. What a small world.
I’m reading a book called “The Inheritors” (by William Goldberg), which won the Nobel Prize for Literature. I wanted to know what kind of story/language gets a nobel prize. I am struck by how simple the sentences are, but the words are alive. Some examples: “sun was making a stipple of bright spots.” “the hand of habit was on them” (the fire) “the air around Lok echoed with phantom screaming”
posted by bigchainring at 7:49 PM
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