And... We're Back Online

Well, it's taken three and a half weeks, but we finally have internet in our new house now. Hurray! Thanks to James at ASTCA who finally flipped the right switch and earned his daily wage today.

We're in our new house, and it's lovely. Moving is sure a lot of work, but hopefully that will get my labor started! (By the way, my friend Maria from the last post gave birth to the cutest little boy last Saturday. And she's due a week after me! I'm just playing the Fillmore baby waiting game...)

And what do I look like now?


How would you like to wake up to that every morning? I still feel really good, and I'm not totally sick of being pregnant--a sign that I still have some time to go. In the meantime we'll keep unpacking, organizing, decorating, and keeping my mind on other things... like checking the 116 items in my Google Reader. Yay!

Beautiful Bellies

Me, Maria, and Nadia
Coming Soon: the cutest little white babies on island
Taken by Liz at Maria's house

Dilemma Evaded

I wanted to follow-up with my culture clash post.

First, thanks for your sympathies. Although I know I wasn't exaggerating, I think complaining about it probably augmented my irritation. But I'm comforted to hear that some of you deal with similar frustrations wherever you live.

Second, yes, we did create another user account on the computer containing bare bones applications and limited access. It's the one the kids use now, so Isaac can't create, rename, and delete our files "accidentally".

Finally, there's been a pattern in my married life: just when I'm getting too involved, too frustrated, and too tired of my situation, we move. We average about a year in one location. It's really sad for us as many of you know, but sometimes very convenient. It's worked really well for me in the past. ("I know you need a babysitter 40 hours a week and I'm home all day, so it seems like a match, but we're relocating to a new town next week. Keep in touch." or "I'm sorry, I can't help out with your divorce court case, I'm moving to a remote Pacific island in a month. Good luck.")

I know some day I'll have to learn to "deal" with problems and "solve" my issues like a big girl. But running away from them hurts less.

The previous post was an obvious cry for change, and lo and behold, change is coming. We are moving houses! Only about a mile away, but it's far enough. Our new neighbors are wonderful. (Our current neighbors are wonderful as well, and we will miss them. Well, most of them.) And the new house is newer, bigger, more remote, and it's surrounded by beautiful gardens.

In American Samoa, there's no such thing as a perfect house. Every house has some issues: ants, roaches, termites, rats, cats, dogs, leaks, noise, rust, dust, mold, or whatever. So although we know this new house won't be perfect, it's a palace compared to our house now.

And I can put off becoming a "big girl" for another year or so.

Culture Dilemma

I'm facing a personal clash. My inner-Samoan and my natural-palagi are at odds.

Samoa Melinda enjoys that neighborhood kids like to come to her house and play with her kids. She's happy to open her house and hang out with whoever stops by whenever they feel like it. She appreciates that sometimes these friends like to clean her house, wash her dishes, and bring her food. She feels that sharing food, computer, bikes, clothes and toys with them is no imposition but just what friends do. She likes to learn Samoan, listen to Samoan tunes strummed on the ukulele, and likes "eva"--hanging out. This is the Melinda that got us here in the first place. The Melinda that was tired of high stress university life, ventured down to Hawaii, and was captivated by a skinny scraggly-haired surfer kid who eventually proposed marriage. She knew full well that by accepting his offer, her life would probably never be the "normal" life she'd lived so far. And that was just what she wanted.

On the other hand, Melinda is Palagi, White, Caucausian, American, and Yankee-born nonetheless. She is willing to help out if it doesn't cost or inconvenience her too much. Why should this capitalistic Melinda share her family's things that they worked hard to obtain and maintain? Samoans are not known to take good care of stuff. It stresses Melinda to give up any control of her domain. This Melinda has obligations to fill, needs personal time. Sometimes she will close the windows and lock the doors and not answer the phone, wishing she didn't HAVE to close, lock and not answer; she wishes people would just leave her alone for a day or two.

Samoa Melinda says, Samoans are naturally drawn to children and families, and every kid needs a playmate. It's just natural that the neighborhood kids would want to come play all the time with the palagi kids. Especially because the palagis have toys. And they're not all broken. They have markers, crayons, paper, books, and so many wonderful things to discover. So an invasion on our house is kinda just part of having a family down here. Plus, relationships are more important than things. And there's no denying that Samoan Melinda has benefitted from these relationships. She pities palagi elitist who won't embrace the rich Samoan culture surrounding them, including befriending local friends and neighbors.

Palagi Melinda replies, that may be true but no one should have to deal with this. These adorable little girls come to our house and STARE into our windows. Just staring. Or call our names. For a long time. Until we come out or yell at them to go away, like dogs. Wouldn't that drive anyone insane? The poor things won't respond to requests. Just threats and slaps. American Melinda won't slap them. And then our teenage friend comes by, just knocks and walks in, needs to use the computer for "research" and somehow is in the middle of watching our home movies and browsing our photos when I come to check on her. She just wanted to post our pix on her mySpace friend page. Cause we're friends. Duh. Why is she searching our personal computer stuff? Why does she think that's okay? And then an older friend calls needs something huge, very desperately, as usual, and calls my cell phone over a dozen times. I can't help her. Sidenote, talking on the cellphone requires standing outside for any reception, requires patience, and costs money. I end up shutting off the phone. All of this happens between 4 and 6pm. When I'm tutoring a needy student at my house, trying to get dinner made, keeping track of my own two cranky little kids, and getting belly kicked by an ever-growing third. And Ephraim's out of town. I don't know if all these things would happen anywhere else. In "normal" places, don't people know better? Don't they respect privacy? Isn't there a more distinct line between invasive and friendly? Why do I have to explain to these people that what they're doing is NOT OKAY WITH ME? And why don't they listen? Is this what I came to Samoa for?

So what do you think? How Samoan or Palagi are you?

Our little dears. They really are sweet kids, honestly.
(Feronia and Ruta, sisters. Feronia's recovering from lice. Yay.)

Fa'i, Banana Tree

Wanna hear about our banana trees?

When we first moved in August 07, we had a couple of little shoots (which we did not plant).

8/29/07

Banana trees grow really quickly, right before your very eyes.
9/3/07

9/11/07

9/21/07

After Sept '07 our car arrived on island and we started finding more interesting things to photograph--away from our backyard. So here's the same trees a year later with stalks of bananas!

12/19/08
12/19/08

A banana tree produces just one stalk in its life. When you harvest it, you can cut the whole tree down because it's fulfilled its purpose on earth. And two or three little shoots spring up in its place. There's no shortage of bananas.

This lovely red thing really creeped me out at first. It feels really rubbery and sheds large petal-things. Ephraim assured me it's nature and therefore beautiful, and I'm satisfied.
12/24/08

One of the trees was ready to be harvested just in time for my parents' visit. They had never had fresh banana smoothies before, straight from the tree. We aim to please.
You know in the summer you can't give away your garden produce because everyone's got zucchini and tomatoes coming out their ears? Same with bananas here. You try to give some away to be nice, and no one wants them! For chips and cookies on the other hand, there's lots of takers...

Now you know more about banana trees.

Sunday Afternoon

Remember how fun it is to use an umbrella?

Ok, I know I've been neglecting this blog, but I'm allowed to. It's mine, right? So here's what I look like lately:
I couldn't decide which picture was less hideous, so I included both. Yes, I am in boxers. Yes, I am 7 months pregnant. Yes, I do wear my hair in a scraggly ponytail/bun every single day. And yes, I do have strange orange and brown sea turtle curtains in my hall. Oh, and yes, I do know how to use the crop tool, but I just didn't.

I'm 34 weeks along. We didn't find out the sex. Baby moves a kicks a lot and has a strong heartbeat. I am a tad nervous to deliver here, but I know I'll inevitably have a newborn in a few months no matter how it happens. So that's good enough.

I'll try to post more often in the spare moments I steal from my children, but they're become more and more adept with the computer and therefore more and more demanding with it. (I know I sure didn't need computer restrictions at the age of 2.) Fortunately neither of them has learned how to turn on the cleverly-designed iMac in the two years we've had it, so we still maintain some control. May they never find out...

That's all for now.

Overnight in Apia

Polynesian Airlines was having a sale in January: $99 roundtrip to Apia, Samoa. So we took the opportunity for a quick trip Friday to Saturday last weekend. The main purpose was to attend the temple since it will be awhile until I can go again. For some reason we didn't take any pictures once we actually got to Apia. But I liked these few of our flight and busride.

Isaac was concerned that we would land in the ocean since he couldn't see any land for awhile. Once he held Ephraim's hand he felt a little better.

It's always fun to ride the bus from the airport into town, although it takes longer than a taxi or shuttle. You get the real feeling of Samoa stopping at villages, listening to conversations, and watching daily life. You don't have to make chit chat with a taxi driver for 45 minutes. And it costs about two dollars for the whole family, instead of $20.