A Funeral, a wedding, and an exorcism

Phew! What a crazy couple of weeks? Someone told me it was almost July, that cant be true, it was just March. Well, things are going exponentially better around these parts. Being busy is good. I am totally in love with my village at the moment. I am almost hardly ever at my house any more. Its nice to have friends to visit and hang out with.
So two weekends ago I attended my first Samoan funeral. Im not sure exactly how well I carried out my part, but Im usually forgiven for most mistakes because if you didn’t notice…Im white. Anywho, the funeral was Sat, so I woke up at 345am (yes, 345am) to catch a bus with the whole village to Apia at 430am. Didn’t really understand why we were going to Apia, but I don’t ask those kinds of questions anymore. So we got to the funeral home (“fale oti” – means house dead, gotta love it) and we all stumbled out and sat in this little chapel where we sang one song and then got back on the bus and went back to the village. Apparently we did that because we were driving back with the hearse or something…again, not asking questions is usually best in these cases.
So we got back to old Tafatafa and went to the family’s house of the dead guy (the live sort of across the street from me) and had a little memorial service. Trouble with those things are you sit all around an open fale and you have to sit cross-legged because pointing your feet at people, especially in formal settings such as this one, is very rude. For those of you who don’t know, I have enough metal in my knees to set of airport alarms, so sitting cross-legged for 2 hours is not exactly my idea of fun. Anywho, after that fun event we walked down to our church (Mormon! Yeah!) and apparently there was some sort of service. I say apparently because I passed out cold…in the front row…I actually fell of the bench at one point to look up at a really pissed of Mormon Bishop. Whoops.
After the church thing, we walked back up to the house to put the casket in the ground. Around these parts they bury their family right out in front of their houses in big sealed cement boxes. My buddy Meghan, in Siumu, actually sleeps about 7 feet away from her dead relatives. Pretty neato. So did that, and then everyone was all excited to go back to the church and hang out some more to which I said, ya know, Ive been doing this for about 9 hours now and Im tired, so thanks, but no thanks…in so many words…I then passed out for 4 hours. And that, in a nutshell was my first funeral experience in Samoa
Now this last weekend I was privileged enough to go to my first Samoan wedding. The wedding was a guy from my village who was marrying a girl from Siumu (Meghan’s village, but she wasn’t there). It was a Mormon wedding so not a drop of alcohol in the place…yeah… I was lucky enough to be aloud to dance with the youth group from our church (see pics below). The actual wedding took place in the Mormon temple, so as I am not baptized Mormon, I was not allowed to attend that, but it appears that in Samoa people aren’t too excited about the actual wedding they are more excited about the food at the reception. So we all went straight to the reception at Vaitele and waited for the wedding party to arrive. Luckily I have become well versed in “Samoan time” so when they said the wedding party would arrive at 10am, I knew that really mean 12pm and I brought a book for entertainment. Once the wedding party arrived we took pictures and what not and then ate. It was a fairly nice event so in Samoa that means LOTS of food. And food that I could eat! Ive been going at it Vegetarian style in the village these days because I just cant look at the meat any more…for various reasons. After food we did our dances and then the typical mother/groom and daddy/bride dance. That was all neat and fun. Then to my great dismay they announced that they were throwing the bouquet. As I am already the talk of the village because I am 24 and should marry a samoan man and live here forever, I was pushed right up to the front. After being here for quite sometime I knew that if I had anything to do with that damn bouquet it would be the talk of the village for quite sometime. So once the group of girls was all assembled and the bride turned around to throw it, I made a mad dash back to my seat to avoid being any where near that thing. As I was almost back to my seat, I looked over my shoulder to make sure the bouquet was safely in an excited Samoan girls’ hands when what should I see but this flower asteroid coming right at me! Apparently all the other girls had rushed forward as the bride threw the bouquet with an arm like McGuire. So there I was, in the middle of the floor, all alone, with this…this…thing coming right at my face! I had to put my hands out to avoid being pelted with the damn thing and the next thing I know there I am standing in the middle of 150 wide-eyed Samoans holding the bouquet. Needless to say, I have heard of nothing else in my village than candidates for my husband. Sigh.
To top off the last week, we had a group of Pacific islanders come visit our school and assess our curriculum. I am slowly realizing that Samoans do not trust people from different islands (see blog entry about one of the teachers missing 3 weeks of school because a woman in Figi was putting a curse on her). So after this group left, all of our teachers and the school inspector reconvened to “debrief”. The school inspector looks at me very seriously and says, “Did you shake that man’s hand from New Guinea?” Having no clue where this was going I said, “Uh, I shook a lot of people’s hands. Why?” This answer was followed by much tongue clicking and shaking of heads (the international sign for disapproval). Oh lord, what now? School inspector looks at me very forlorn and says, “That man told me he put an evil spirit in you, to make you fall in love with him. You must be very careful tonight as he may have put spells on the pigs around your fale as well.” Oh…ok. So I got that going for me.
Mere coincidence I decided to hang out with one of my teacher’s later that day and we went to another village to pick up a witch doctor that had to come to our village anyway for someone’s legs…or something. Hung out with him for a bit and he didn’t seem too concerned for the “evil falling-in-love” spirit that apparently possessed me, so I think I will be ok.
Anywho, that’s about all I got here. My mom wanted me to let you all know that my out fit in the fiafia (pics, below where I am wearing a halter top) is not at all samoan dress, because I could never show my shoulders in any real samoan event. It was just a peace corps fiafia that is why I was allowed to dress that way. Mom didn’t want you all to get the idea that I was being to “skanky” (that was her word) over here. Love you mama.
Well hope all is well back home or wherever you are reading this from. Miss you all! Send granola bars and chocolate!