Let’s just say that American Samoa wasn’t what I was expecting it to be. As I was preparing for this trip, I imagined sandy beaches, luaus every night, and men in loin clothes climbing palm trees. That’s what tropical islands are like, right? But this is not your typical tropic rock.
As I stepped off the plane into the dense ocean air, I was greeted by hundreds of brown faces, some speaking my language but most of them not. No one sang “Aloha Oe” to me and all the shirtless muscular men must have already gone to bed because I didn’t see any of those either. I bet they were tired from all that palm tree climbing. The airport was the hangout that night and I bet half the island was there...literally. I knew I was not in Kansas anymore--— unless Kansas suddenly got extremely humid and packed full of rambunctious Polynesian youth who get excited when “the plane” comes in twice a week. I was alarmed to find that my cell phone didn’t work here, of course, and I didn’t see Melinda anywhere, of course, and we hadn’t set up a place to meet. Of course. I was already lost and it had only been 3 minutes in this foreign land. We eventually found each other, got home, and I crashed into bed because by that point it was about 3:00 in the morning to my body. There are some pretty obvious differences between Samoa and Utah... the climate, the plants, the race, the langugage, etc. It’s the more subtle differences that you don’t realize until you walk a mile in someone elses flip flops.
There is very little air conditioning here, geckos live in your house behind mirrors and pictures frames, honking is friendly, the only shades of hair dye at the store are dark and darker, the speed limit on the whole island is 25 mph, and men wear skirts in public. Not what you experience in American Fork, Utah my friends.
So there I was sitting in the living room, carrying on a delightful conversation, when I see a bug of unusual size scurrying up the wall. Before I could comment on the size of the creature, I see a lizard appear from behind the wall hanging and devour the bug. I was stunned at this display of the Circle of Life happening right before my eyes. But to everyone else it was just normal. I was the only person who was slightly disturbed. It happens everyday in Samoa.
Also. The public buses are hilarious because they’re painted all ghetto and blast music with a bumpin beat. And I think all of the buses have the same song. I came to love that song over the last 10 days. Something else funny was seeing the locals at the beach. They don’t do beaches like American’s do beaches. They just walk on into the water in whatever they happen to be wearing. The only people I saw in swim suits at the beach were us and the 4 year olds. So we were obviously not from around here.
Let’s also mention the humidity. The air is thick with moisture here and truthfully my hands and lips haven’t felt this good in a long time. No chapstick needed. But that actually may be the only upside of this climate. Let’s be honest, I was sweating the whole trip. Leaving my hair down over my neck was like asking for heat stroke. And wearing make up was also out of the question because it’d be smeared down my face by noon anyway. So basically I looked like a sweaty boy the whole time.
But I loved every minute!
Seriously I saw so many awesome things that I would never have been able to see anywhere else. I loved seeing the people and their culture. I loved the experience of stopping at roadside stands to buy a papaya or a stack of taro leaves wrapped in a banana leaf. I loved having fallen coconuts in the front yard or walking out the front door and seeing huge mountains of lush trees. I loved the simplicity of life and remembering that life goes on without cell phones and Wal Mart. I loved spending time with my sister and her family, seeing how they’ve adapted to this adventure and become involved with the community instead of just tolerating it. So although I would have loved to have luau’s and buff men cracking coconuts for me…I wouldn’t have traded this experience in American Samoa.
P.S. Yeah, goggle faces rock.
