Looking Around

Now that we have a year under our belt, we're old pros here in American Samoa. I've been thinking about some things that might have been really novel a year ago that are just normal now. Here's a list of some things we see everyday that you might not see everyday:

• families chatting in lawn chairs...in the back of a truck whizzing down the street
• haggard looking dogs limping on three legs with enflamed glandular growths and mange
• groundskeepers picking, husking, cracking, drinking and eating a coconut on lunch break, then passing one to my kids
• signs around town saying Fa'afetai lava (Thank you), Ua Sa le Fanua (Private property), Toso (Pull), Palota mo Togiola (Vote for Togiola), and Puipui Fanau (protect your children [from drugs, alcohol, kava])
• dozens of grown men lining the road dressing in matching yellow shirts and green lavalavas enforcing Sa, or village prayer time
• drastic tide changes twice daily
• piles of rubbish and yard waste casually burned in my backyard, followed by us heading for the car for a day away from home
• fruit stands selling esi, fa'i, ulu, kalo, kukama, avoka, and popo (papaya, banana, breadfruit, taro, cucumbers, avocado, and coconut)
• folks talking to or about me referring to "palagi"
• people who raise their eyebrows for yes, I understand, you're right, or okay.
• people who end sentences with an "uh" grunt meaning, right? huh? don't you think?
• college-level volleyball games played on worn village courts by boys wearing slippers and baggy basketball shorts (Samoans don't use/need knee pads)
• BBQ plate lunch sold daily from the roadside (when Isaac sees smoke now he says, "Look mom, someone's cooking chicken!")
• Asian store owners, Filipino seamstresses, and Tongan construction workers making life work in Samoa
  

This is all off the top of my head. I'll pay attention tomorrow and report back later.

Riding the Ironing Board

Maybe if I'd started on the ironing board I'd be pro by now.

Blue and Red Make a Mess

We've officially been in Samoa 1 year tomorrow! Yay for us! And...I think I'm going a little crazy.

To improve the dingy feel of our shabby home, last Saturday we painted the living room.

Two walls, two different colors. One wall is a soothing "Watercolor Blue". It matches our new curtains, and looks nice.

The other wall across the room is not soothing. It's called "Pomegranate" and it was a mistake. As we were painting I kept hoping it would look different dry. But no, the color blinds you, it glares red on everything in the room, when you stand near it you feel 3 degrees hotter, you think there's a huge fire truck parked in the house. Who thought painting a wall red was a good idea?! (I know, me obviously.)

So guess what we'll be doing this Saturday.

Staying as far away as possible from our crazy house!

31 Flavors

When my parents had their 31st wedding anniversary, my dad took my mom to Baskin Robbins to try out the 31 flavors. Ephraim had his 31st birthday on July 27th. We didn't go to Baskin Robbins, though. We went to choir practice. And a youth fireside after. We didn't celebrate at all. Not the day before, the day after, not at all. We had other stuff going on. I totally dropped the ball. I guess I assumed it wasn't really a big deal for him--until one week later at bedtime when he almost frantically began hauling out ingredients for Hershey's deep dark chocolate cake, the Temple classic, to bake his own belated birthday cake.

So this year I learned that at least you make a cake. Ephraim didn't grow up with big birthday celebrations, but at least they always had a cake. And no cake means no birthday.


Duh. I feel really dumb for all of this. But I guess we live and learn and still love.

Plus, I'll be making my own birthday cake next month while he's off to Fiji.

Happy Birthday Ephraim. I love you more than Hersheys, Baskin Robbins, and all the cake and ice cream in the world.

Ella's Entertaining Life

I can't seem to do anything but complain lately. So it's definitely good I haven't posted in awhile. But I do feel obligated to post something. Here's a tidbit about Ella.

Ella changes her name daily. Yesterday she was Penny from The Rescuers and she made me talk like Bernard and Miss Bianca (Bob Newhart was pretty easy, I just stuttered a lot, Eva Gabor was trickier). Today she couldn't get out of bed for three weeks because she had "lumonia" like Timmy on Secret of Nimh. Last week when we got a package from my sister she spent two days as Shellie and called Isaac her husband Jason.

Every morning she makes me do the Wake Up Show with her. It goes something like this:

Me: Hi there, and welcome to the Wake Up Show. I'm your hostess Kathy and I'm here with our volunteer, but I don't know her name because she's sleeping, so I'll just call her Lulu.
Ella: (eyes closed, whispering) My name's SARAH!
Me: Oh, I think her name is Sarah. And now we'll start with round one, the Gentle Tap.

We go through three or four rounds, trying A Kiss on the Cheek, Tickle, and finally an Invitation to Breakfast, and that usually makes her eyes open.

Sounds sweet, huh. Well, it gets tiring every single morning. She also requests a Cooking Show when I'm baking (my name has to be Susan), a Driving the Car show, and Putting on Jammies Show.

The girl also refuses to go to school, that's another issue I'm sure you'll hear more about later. When we took her to the school to observe the other kids standing in lines, learning songs, and doing worksheets, she was pulling my arm off bucking like a mustang. Then she started yelling, "I'm never coming to this school. Not now, not when I turn five, NEVER!" They said to try again when she's "ready". I wonder if we should try a Get Your Little Spoiled Self to School Show.

'Nother Day at Nua

'Nother day at Nua for some Saturday morning snorkeling.

One Ring to Rule them All

This is a tale of a ring. Not just any ring. THE ring of power. It was formed, lost for a time, and brought forth again with renewed purpose and brilliance. This story involves hobbits, wizards, and a demonic fire-breathing balrog. (Not really.) So settle in as I retell, the Journey of the Ring.

It all began when Ephraim and I got married in 2001. I had never wanted a big diamond setting, nor could we afford a ring that would leave us without rent and tuition. So we selected a simple band--yellow gold over white gold. My ring was technically a man's ring (nice width and weight), and we had a heftier version of it made for Ephraim by my cousin Richard the wizard jeweler. And with this pair we were happy as hobbits.

Then... in July 2005 when we were visiting my parents in Utah, my ring got lost. (Now if you've never lost your wedding ring, you're either very responsible or single.) We thought the ring fell down a storm drain at a parade and would spend decades in underground caves with the demonic firebreathing balrog of Provo. We searched, mourned, and moved on with life.

Eventually we replaced the ring with a little gold sliver of a band bought at Walmart for under $20. This new ring fit fine, suited my daily tasks of dishes and diapers, and served as a reminder to keep myself unattached from material things. Although my ring was humble, my marriage was still the best part of my life.

Fast forward to May 2008. I'm in Hawaii at Pammy's and I get an email that my mom has great news. When I call she tells me this tale. My little sister Rachel (21) and her friend Natalie somehow get the hankerin' to play baseball at the park. Natalie puts her hand in the glove and feels something strange. That's right, a dagger. NO, it was my Ring! Oh, Happy Day! The ring was found again! Only then did I remember that while we were in Utah we had played baseball at the park. Now it was all making sense.

My mom wore my ring around for a few days (no, it didn't make her invisible or power hungry). She figured she would also take it to cousin Richard for a cleaning and resizing since it was loose to begin with. She informed me it would take a little longer to get in the mail since he was pretty busy. Of course I didn't mind. Especially since getting the mail once a week in Samoa has made me pretty patient about packages. I'm happy if anything comes at all.

On Monday July 7th I went to the post office and discovered my package had come! We opened Isaac's birthday presents, little gifts for Ella, and a small jewelry case for me. This is what I saw:

My wonderful mom had five cute diamonds set into my wedding band! Isn't that sweet?!

My reaction was this: "Whaaaaaat? My mom is crazy!", exclaimed very lovingly. No wonder she had it insured. No wonder she'd been calling me every other day to see if I'd gotten it. No wonder she was so excited! I absolutely love it. This seals the fact them I'm the favorite child. I'm sorry siblings. There's no way mom could be as nice to you all as she is to me.

People have noticed I have a "new" ring, so I get to tell them the story. And I get to tell you all about the ring that was lost, replaced, found, and improved.

Isn't it nice to reflect on all you've been through with your wedding ring? The years, trips, births, deaths, fun, food, games, blood, sweat, and tears. Like an old friend. I'm glad to have mine back. With diamonds.


Any ideas how I can attempt to show my mom my thanks?