Oh what a long strange trip it has been…continues to be and will be. Samoan primary school soccer season is in full force. We had our first games the week before last at a village down the road. All the kids were so cute in their matching “uniforms” (random blue shirts and random red shorts). We were the first school to arrive to “game day” and we sat politely under the little sign that had the name of our school and waited for the other teams…and waited…and waited… Eventually the other schools began to slowly trickle in. There were maybe 10-12 schools in all. Of course in the atmosphere of sport and anticipation I, along with the kids, began to grow antsy after the first hour. Fortunately Samoans and I make a winning combination, as they love to sing and laugh at very silly things and I enjoy making an ass of myself. Naturally, I took center stage and directed them in some camp songs I had taught them. I taught them the banana song which, if you don’t know, is a winner with kids and involves dancing around like a banana ending with the grand finale of screaming, “Go bananas, go, go bananas!” It pretty much brings me to tears every time because the kids have no idea what they are saying they just jump around yelling whatever. The kids from the other schools were so in awe of our sweet new song that when we finished they all started clapping and chanting “banana, banana!” That counts as sustainable development right?
Eventually we started playing and it was just so weird to think about all the soccer games my parents drove me to when I was growing up and how all the kids on my teams were always decked out in shin guards, matching socks, cleats, clean new uniforms, etc. And here are the Samoan kids. Just as excited and pumped to play soccer, but their shirts are hand-me-downs or ripped or too big, their shorts don’t match, and cleats…haha! I think I saw maybe 3 kids wearing shoes. But it just goes to show, no matter what the conditions are, mankind just loves sports!
Last weekend (March 24-25) I decided to ride my bike out to my training village, Ma’asina, to visit my training family. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the geography of Upolu island, my village, Tafatafa, is a 30 mile round trip to Ma’asina with some pretty monster mountains in between. First stupid mistake, thinking I am Lance Armstrong. Second idiot move, leaving for Ma’asina at 10am on Saturday, hence biking up mountains when the sun is the absolute hottest on an island where we can spit on the equator. Thanks to our Lord and Savior J.H.C. I am still alive today. It was great to see the family and remind myself how beautiful that village is. When I got there I was happy to see that my family had recently purchased a truck. When I left the next day they graciously drove me over the first two massive mountains (the first 4 miles). The road leading into Ma’asina is a long, VERY curvy, VERY narrow, gravely, loose, road down a steep, STEEP mountain. This was the road that my brother, Manu, decided to teach my other brother, Lafo, how to drive their new stick shift truck (mom, maybe you should skip this part) with me and my bike in the back of the truck. Again, thanks to our Lord and Savior I made it out alive.
Don’t know if anybody heard about the earthquake off the coast of the Solomon islands on Sunday. Peace Corps issued a formal Tsunami warning in Samoa Unfortunately this was at 2pm on Sunday which is right after Sunday feast and national nap time. So as exciting as it would have been to run for the hills, I stayed put in my bed. Luckily the tsunami in question was another 18 incher.
I had one more near death experience today as well as a valuable learning experience. I learned today that it is very important to never tell a Samoan to please stop singing. One of our teachers thought it would be really cute to sing me a nice little song in the English language. Very nice of her, except the song in question was the %$^@$ Barney song “I love you, you love me…”remember that little tune that makes all people in the whole of the US want desperately to be put to death as soon as physically possibly? Right, well I asked her politely to please not sing that particular song. She thought that was funny and decided to show me how you can sing it in Samoan too, and proceeded to show me…the whole song. Sigh, yes that’s nice, but please stop. Well, she just couldn’t understand how I couldn’t like a song in my own language so she sang in again in English just to make sure I hadn’t been mistaken. At this point I put my head down on the table and tried desperately not to drive my pen into my eyeball. Finally she finished, looked at me with a confused look and then abruptly went to class. I went back to reading my Economist glad to have survived the audible torture. The other teacher in the room looked at me as if I had just strangled a kitten. “What has happened? Why would you do that?” I tried to explain that I just don’t like the song, just like he probably doesn’t like certain things. Yeah, no go. Had to go formally apologize for my rudeness. If I ever meet the schmuck who invented that song I will kick him in the shins.
Eventually we started playing and it was just so weird to think about all the soccer games my parents drove me to when I was growing up and how all the kids on my teams were always decked out in shin guards, matching socks, cleats, clean new uniforms, etc. And here are the Samoan kids. Just as excited and pumped to play soccer, but their shirts are hand-me-downs or ripped or too big, their shorts don’t match, and cleats…haha! I think I saw maybe 3 kids wearing shoes. But it just goes to show, no matter what the conditions are, mankind just loves sports!
Last weekend (March 24-25) I decided to ride my bike out to my training village, Ma’asina, to visit my training family. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the geography of Upolu island, my village, Tafatafa, is a 30 mile round trip to Ma’asina with some pretty monster mountains in between. First stupid mistake, thinking I am Lance Armstrong. Second idiot move, leaving for Ma’asina at 10am on Saturday, hence biking up mountains when the sun is the absolute hottest on an island where we can spit on the equator. Thanks to our Lord and Savior J.H.C. I am still alive today. It was great to see the family and remind myself how beautiful that village is. When I got there I was happy to see that my family had recently purchased a truck. When I left the next day they graciously drove me over the first two massive mountains (the first 4 miles). The road leading into Ma’asina is a long, VERY curvy, VERY narrow, gravely, loose, road down a steep, STEEP mountain. This was the road that my brother, Manu, decided to teach my other brother, Lafo, how to drive their new stick shift truck (mom, maybe you should skip this part) with me and my bike in the back of the truck. Again, thanks to our Lord and Savior I made it out alive.
Don’t know if anybody heard about the earthquake off the coast of the Solomon islands on Sunday. Peace Corps issued a formal Tsunami warning in Samoa Unfortunately this was at 2pm on Sunday which is right after Sunday feast and national nap time. So as exciting as it would have been to run for the hills, I stayed put in my bed. Luckily the tsunami in question was another 18 incher.
I had one more near death experience today as well as a valuable learning experience. I learned today that it is very important to never tell a Samoan to please stop singing. One of our teachers thought it would be really cute to sing me a nice little song in the English language. Very nice of her, except the song in question was the %$^@$ Barney song “I love you, you love me…”remember that little tune that makes all people in the whole of the US want desperately to be put to death as soon as physically possibly? Right, well I asked her politely to please not sing that particular song. She thought that was funny and decided to show me how you can sing it in Samoan too, and proceeded to show me…the whole song. Sigh, yes that’s nice, but please stop. Well, she just couldn’t understand how I couldn’t like a song in my own language so she sang in again in English just to make sure I hadn’t been mistaken. At this point I put my head down on the table and tried desperately not to drive my pen into my eyeball. Finally she finished, looked at me with a confused look and then abruptly went to class. I went back to reading my Economist glad to have survived the audible torture. The other teacher in the room looked at me as if I had just strangled a kitten. “What has happened? Why would you do that?” I tried to explain that I just don’t like the song, just like he probably doesn’t like certain things. Yeah, no go. Had to go formally apologize for my rudeness. If I ever meet the schmuck who invented that song I will kick him in the shins.
And now for your viewing enjoyment...
My kids pulling away after the soccer games
The "school bus" that took pretty much our entire school to the soccer games. There were about 15 pick up trucks packed with kids from all the villages and they were all singing songs and just happy as can be. 
I mean...really...can you get any cuter?
Tafea, Gloria, Uesa, and Emeline hanging out before the game.
All the primary schools lining up getting ready to begin the games!
Mania (his name means "nice" in english so that is what all his friends call him) on the left and Iemi on the right. Some of my favorite year 8 boys who love to rock my pink sunglasses.
This is about hour 2 of waiting for the soccer to start...Kids are still excited though and keeping a very good watch on my bike I might add.Oh what a long strange trip it has been…continues to be and will be. Samoan primary school soccer season is in full force. We had our first games the week before last at a village down the road. All the kids were so cute in their matching “uniforms” (random blue shirts and random red shorts). We were the first school to arrive to “game day” and we sat politely under the little sign that had the name of our school and waited for the other teams…and waited…and waited… Eventually the other schools began to slowly trickle in. There were maybe 10-12 schools in all. Of course in the atmosphere of sport and anticipation I, along with the kids, began to grow antsy after the first hour. Fortunately Samoans and I make a winning combination, as they love to sing and laugh at very silly things and I enjoy making an ass of myself. Naturally, I took center stage and directed them in some camp songs I had taught them. I taught them the banana song which, if you don’t know, is a winner with kids and involves dancing around like a banana ending with the grand finale of screaming, “Go bananas, go, go bananas!” It pretty much brings me to tears every time because the kids have no idea what they are saying they just jump around yelling whatever. The kids from the other schools were so in awe of our sweet new song that when we finished they all started clapping and chanting “banana, banana!” That counts as sustainable development right?
Eventually we started playing and it was just so weird to think about all the soccer games my parents drove me to when I was growing up and how all the kids on my teams were always decked out in shin guards, matching socks, cleats, clean new uniforms, etc. And here are the Samoan kids. Just as excited and pumped to play soccer, but their shirts are hand-me-downs or ripped or too big, their shorts don’t match, and cleats…haha! I think I saw maybe 3 kids wearing shoes. But it just goes to show, no matter what the conditions are, mankind just loves sports!
Last weekend (March 24-25) I decided to ride my bike out to my training village, Ma’asina, to visit my training family. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the geography of Upolu island, my village, Tafatafa, is a 30 mile round trip to Ma’asina with some pretty monster mountains in between. First stupid mistake, thinking I am Lance Armstrong. Second idiot move, leaving for Ma’asina at 10am on Saturday, hence biking up mountains when the sun is the absolute hottest on an island where we can spit on the equator. Thanks to our Lord and Savior J.H.C. I am still alive today. It was great to see the family and remind myself how beautiful that village is. When I got there I was happy to see that my family had recently purchased a truck. When I left the next day they graciously drove me over the first two massive mountains (the first 4 miles). The road leading into Ma’asina is a long, VERY curvy, VERY narrow, gravely, loose, road down a steep, STEEP mountain. This was the road that my brother, Manu, decided to teach my other brother, Lafo, how to drive their new stick shift truck (mom, maybe you should skip this part) with me and my bike in the back of the truck. Again, thanks to our Lord and Savior I made it out alive.
Don’t know if anybody heard about the earthquake off the coast of the Solomon islands on Sunday. Peace Corps issued a formal Tsunami warning in Samoa Unfortunately this was at 2pm on Sunday which is right after Sunday feast and national nap time. So as exciting as it would have been to run for the hills, I stayed put in my bed. Luckily the tsunami in question was another 18 incher.
I had one more near death experience today as well as a valuable learning experience. I learned today that it is very important to never tell a Samoan to please stop singing. One of our teachers thought it would be really cute to sing me a nice little song in the English language. Very nice of her, except the song in question was the %$^@$ Barney song “I love you, you love me…”remember that little tune that makes all people in the whole of the US want desperately to be put to death as soon as physically possibly? Right, well I asked her politely to please not sing that particular song. She thought that was funny and decided to show me how you can sing it in Samoan too, and proceeded to show me…the whole song. Sigh, yes that’s nice, but please stop. Well, she just couldn’t understand how I couldn’t like a song in my own language so she sang in again in English just to make sure I hadn’t been mistaken. At this point I put my head down on the table and tried desperately not to drive my pen into my eyeball. Finally she finished, looked at me with a confused look and then abruptly went to class. I went back to reading my Economist glad to have survived the audible torture. The other teacher in the room looked at me as if I had just strangled a kitten. “What has happened? Why would you do that?” I tried to explain that I just don’t like the song, just like he probably doesn’t like certain things. Yeah, no go. Had to go formally apologize for my rudeness. If I ever meet the schmuck who invented that song I will kick him in the shins.
Eventually we started playing and it was just so weird to think about all the soccer games my parents drove me to when I was growing up and how all the kids on my teams were always decked out in shin guards, matching socks, cleats, clean new uniforms, etc. And here are the Samoan kids. Just as excited and pumped to play soccer, but their shirts are hand-me-downs or ripped or too big, their shorts don’t match, and cleats…haha! I think I saw maybe 3 kids wearing shoes. But it just goes to show, no matter what the conditions are, mankind just loves sports!
Last weekend (March 24-25) I decided to ride my bike out to my training village, Ma’asina, to visit my training family. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the geography of Upolu island, my village, Tafatafa, is a 30 mile round trip to Ma’asina with some pretty monster mountains in between. First stupid mistake, thinking I am Lance Armstrong. Second idiot move, leaving for Ma’asina at 10am on Saturday, hence biking up mountains when the sun is the absolute hottest on an island where we can spit on the equator. Thanks to our Lord and Savior J.H.C. I am still alive today. It was great to see the family and remind myself how beautiful that village is. When I got there I was happy to see that my family had recently purchased a truck. When I left the next day they graciously drove me over the first two massive mountains (the first 4 miles). The road leading into Ma’asina is a long, VERY curvy, VERY narrow, gravely, loose, road down a steep, STEEP mountain. This was the road that my brother, Manu, decided to teach my other brother, Lafo, how to drive their new stick shift truck (mom, maybe you should skip this part) with me and my bike in the back of the truck. Again, thanks to our Lord and Savior I made it out alive.
Don’t know if anybody heard about the earthquake off the coast of the Solomon islands on Sunday. Peace Corps issued a formal Tsunami warning in Samoa Unfortunately this was at 2pm on Sunday which is right after Sunday feast and national nap time. So as exciting as it would have been to run for the hills, I stayed put in my bed. Luckily the tsunami in question was another 18 incher.
I had one more near death experience today as well as a valuable learning experience. I learned today that it is very important to never tell a Samoan to please stop singing. One of our teachers thought it would be really cute to sing me a nice little song in the English language. Very nice of her, except the song in question was the %$^@$ Barney song “I love you, you love me…”remember that little tune that makes all people in the whole of the US want desperately to be put to death as soon as physically possibly? Right, well I asked her politely to please not sing that particular song. She thought that was funny and decided to show me how you can sing it in Samoan too, and proceeded to show me…the whole song. Sigh, yes that’s nice, but please stop. Well, she just couldn’t understand how I couldn’t like a song in my own language so she sang in again in English just to make sure I hadn’t been mistaken. At this point I put my head down on the table and tried desperately not to drive my pen into my eyeball. Finally she finished, looked at me with a confused look and then abruptly went to class. I went back to reading my Economist glad to have survived the audible torture. The other teacher in the room looked at me as if I had just strangled a kitten. “What has happened? Why would you do that?” I tried to explain that I just don’t like the song, just like he probably doesn’t like certain things. Yeah, no go. Had to go formally apologize for my rudeness. If I ever meet the schmuck who invented that song I will kick him in the shins.
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