Just Another Day (Written 11/27/05)

Today was kind of a typical Sunday in the village except for some minor – yet extraordinary events that don't happen every Sunday. Well it all started with the church service this morning – for some reason we had a special pastor in for the service and of course since our Samoan is not the best in the world, this pastor decided to speak only in Samoan. He was about 80+ years old and talked in a soft voice so we poor trainees had no idea what was going on. The worst part came when this pastor gave a 30-40 minute prayer in which many of the people around me fell asleep – so I couldn't tell if it was a prayer or these poor folks were just tired from the heat. It was so bad that even our trainers gave up and left early – fortunately they know when it's appropriate to do that, we don't. And since they're Samoan they didn't stick out when they left – had a trainee done that there would have been stares. So a service that starts at 9 and usually ends at 10 ran until 11:45am today – it was torture because the church is like a sweatbox when its hot. So after church and after the Sunday brunch, a few of the trainees continued our weekly tradition of studying at the school house. I found out two important things today about Sunday: 1) you're not allowed to do anything other than eat, rest or watch TV (or read but we have seen very few villagers reading). 2) Since we went to the school the first Sunday we were here its culturally appropriate that we go every Sunday – it was the best ignorant move we ever made.

But there was a crisis afoot at the training center because for the first time in the village we were completely out of purified water. Somehow in the time span of 2-3 hours 5 gallons of water drained out of bottle even though no trainees had been to the school until 2pm. Bryan, Julya and I were the last ones to get water before the bottle was bone dry – it was quite interesting watching the faces of the other trainees as they came to the center looking for water but none could be had. Onafeia and Fale the came up with the idea to just boil some water, let it cool and put the clean water into an empty bottle. Obviously this process was going to take a long time, but even though everything is closed on Sunday, Setu was able to find another water bottle to replace the slightly used one – crisis averted (it was close though). While it was a big deal it wasn't like if we didn't get water today we'd be out of luck for the week. There will be plenty of bottles of water coming tomorrow, so there was never a need to worry (plus there's always coconuts!)

Now I would like to send out my congratulation to the first person to actually sit down and write me a letter – thanks Grandpa. So today was also the first time I ever got mail on Sunday and unexpected mail at that. Hopefully he's not the only one that will actually put pen to paper and write me a letter. I have two years to find out – and yes, even though email is faster it actually takes a lot of effort to write a letter and mail it – hopefully I'm worth the time that has to be put into it.

During the night time, I went over to Bryan's house to play a game of Suipi with him and his Samoan family. His family actually has a Suipi deck (with 11,12 and 13 cards) to play with. This was my first time playing this time with Samoans and it was so much fun because they know the game so well that you not only learn the game better but you also learn how smack talk works (which is a simple "fa'afetai" or "thank you" for giving me points). None of the Americans I have played with have had the enthusiasm that Bryan's family had when I played with them. This simple card game is a good way to start up conversation and interact with Samoans who I may not know all that well since basically everyone on these two islands knows this game.

The final part of the night came right before I went to bed. As I was saying goodnight to everyone, Akaimo said "Goodnight brother". While a simple statement in itself, it signified that my Samoan family actually views me as a part of the family especially the boys. It means that despite my lacking of knowledge about the Samoan language I have done enough/been respectful enough to at least be viewed as a brother instead of a guest. It's simple things like that which keep me going for one more day. So while today was Sunday and nothing happened in the village – the life of a Pisikoa (Peace Corps Volunteer) is never lacking for new experiences. L8r.