A Lotta Movin'

People as places as people

2012-01-24T14:49:00.000-08:00

Modest Mouse "People As Places As People" from A Bruntel on Vimeo.

I'm packing up for another move. Anytime I move from place to place, it feels like a breakup with a lover.

Georgetown, TX was the guy next door. My first kiss. The one who I practiced sharing secrets with. Who I pretended to have a grown-up life with. But it was always Austin, his older and cooler brother, that I kept on my radar-- swearing that one day when I'm ready to settle, we'd commit to each other.

San Diego was a hot shot. His radiant energy ignited my ambitions and awakened my ego. He made me aware of my Texan accent, which I consequently worked to hide. I knew he was loved by many, to the point that I questioned whether or not I could ever really have an intimate relationship. There were few quiet and intimate spaces... he wore his heart on his sleeve for transients and their 5-7 night stands. It was like dating somebody who's always the life of the party. And it was fun while it lasted.

I think my parents had hoped all along that I'd settle with Dallas, the son of a wealthy oil tycoon who doesn't believe poverty exists. He would provide for me financially, and that's about it. But he's never been too fond of me either. Not wanting to be enslaved to a mysogynistic future with Dallas, I decide to take steps to initiate a partnership with China. There is very little passion, but I know that this strategic partnership will allow me to maintain my independence. This all makes sense in my head, but my feet move slow, and instead take me in a totally different direction...

"And the people you love, but you didn't quite know, they're the places that you wanted to go"
If this music video were the story of my life, I'd have brought home a saltwater fish or something from Oceania instead of a pine tree. Something so foreign to my upbringing that it makes my family a little uncomfortable.

Samoa was like the former neighbor of a friend of a friend's cousin that I caught eyes with on a walk by the river one day that triggered my infatuation. But somehow he had already been on my radar, and I had heard that he lived out in the woods somewhere. The more I realized how little I knew about this guy, the more my infatuation grew. I saw him as the missing piece to who I wanted to be. Growing up, I felt stifled by gender roles and the idea of impersonal relationships. While I was with Samoa, he taught me how to be human again. For a moment, I felt complete, and I felt like I had found a home. This passed though, as it slowly sank in that my history and context lies in another time and place, and that if I stayed, one puzzle piece would remain, but the rest might fade away.

North Carolina was the quiet and understanding friend that let me cry in his bed all day after I had broken up with Samoa, only to realize it was too late for me to try to go back "home".

It was somewhere in between NC and Georgia that I decided it's okay to be "homeless". And then once I'd grasped that, it was like 1960s free love all over the country. North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Nevada, New Hampshire, Massachussets, Maine, and then Hawaii.

How I ended up back in the middle of the Pacific, I still don't know. They say that if you don't find closure when ending a relationship, you're bound to look for qualities from the former relationship in a new partner.

But no matter what, I'll always have my fish with me. Because we are the places that we wanted to go...

Roses and Garbage

2011-11-16T12:08:00.000-08:00

5/2/11 (a previously unpublished but now relevant journal entry)
Nostalgia, Homesickness, Killing the Buddha and Spring Cleaning
The Peanut Gallery

Homesickness and nostalgia are diseases that are way too easy to catch. I'm writing this from the bedroom where I grew up, and yet I still feel a longing for a place that is no longer. I spent most of the morning watching old home videos where my brothers and I are rarely separate, and all are pardoned for being ignorant or naive.

Good Edifying Thangs

When I'm stuck thinking about what to do in the future, I (dangerously) draw on past memories of feeling fulfilled. In looking for "home" I am reminded of various people in various places that made me feel at home. Building forts with Molly, playing music with Thanasi and Kyle in the park, being in love (more than once)...

And being in this room, I'm reminded of the wall of dried flowers I affectionately referred to during my teenage years as the "relationship graveyard".

Matt Easley and I on our way to the band banquet. Pretty sure those flowers joined the graveyard. Mirka was a total upgrade :)

Nostalgia can confuse any relationship. As I found with my last partner, the first few months were joyous, and yet were so situationed in a very specific time and place that to hold onto those times in comparison to the present would naturally leave me unhappy. Moreover, it made it so that I could not even be in the present and see things as they were... I kept pining over what could have and should have been.

Killing the buddha-- it's a saying that for me, means that when you've found bliss in your life, don't try to hold onto it or expect it to flourish, but to kill it. For me anyway, this makes sense because I have a tendency to aggrandize my zen-like moments to the point where I defeat the purpose of the moments altogether.

Spring cleaning- Okay, so maybe for a less harsh metaphor, rather than killing the Buddha, maybe I'll just work on composting. What I mean, is that I just need to stop and evaluate what I can weed out of my life. This is easier said than done, as many people places and things have been associated with pleasure in the past. Therefore, initially I have a feeling that getting rid of these things mean removing pleasure from my life. However, it's this cleaning and composting process that allows me to make room for new things to come and my own self-betterment. Expecting the present moment (as good as it might be) to be as it was in the past is worse than just seeing the present moment for what it is even if "bad things" happen. Composting is taking things that were once fruitful but have since turned rotten and using them to assist in a new growth cycle.

11/17/11

I just lost a $3,300 car, a board bag worth at least $100, and a lot of my favorite t-shirts and collectibles to a really shady mechanic (do not let anyone you know go anywhere near Affordable Auto!). I bought this car off a craigslist ad that seemed to be "by owner", but turned out to be the niece of "Uncle Jimmy". They told me they were selling the car because the girl who had it before couldn't afford to take it out of impoundment (foreshadowing!)

The week we had together was awesome! We went all around the island together, and this was taken after a day of surfing at Pinetrees.

So within a week of driving this car, it died with a blown head gasket. I had it towed to a mechanic who estimates $4200 damage. I called Uncle Jimmy, and he offered to tow it back to his side of the island and do it for just the price of the parts. This was on July 1st. Every week he kept saying "oh we're real busy this week" or "everybody's on vacation to Oahu right now". Finally, the week before I left for Thailand I made him a deal that if the car wasn't ready when I got back, he would buy it back from me. So then I get back from Thailand and the car is STILL not fixed. He tells me he was waiting for me to front the money for the parts ($1000). So I offered to my roommate that if she paid for the repairs, she could essentially have the car.

I called Jimmy to tell him I wanted to talk to him about the car, and he told me he had to move locations. So he gave us directions to his "new place", and we rolled up and there's my car with "not for parts" written on the windshield. I walked up to it, and started to open the door when this girl came out of nowhere and told me I didn't have the right to touch the car. Confused as hell, I told her "This is my car. All my things are in it... and wtf are you talking about?" She held her ground, so I went to find Jimmy who sheepishly told me he hadn't heard from me and was moving lots... which apparently meant he had no idea how to make outgoing calls to inform me of what was going on. I went back to the car to show the lady the receipt of purchase, and after some bickering she finally let me in... TO FIND THAT ALL MY STUFF WAS TRASHED! And the day ended when she told me that if I wanted my car back, I'd have to pay almost a thousand in impoundment fees. At which point, I walked away.

Even though I lost a lot of money, I now feel weightless from that situation. I held onto the idea of that car for so long. Possessions, man. That was the Buddha I had to kill. This is my vice: knowing when to let go. Because in the end... whatever decays only opens up room for new growth...

__________________________________________

"Defiled or immaculate. Dirty or pure. These are concepts we form in our mind. A rose we have just cut and placed in our vase is pure. A garbage can is the opposite. But that is only when we look on the surface. If we look more deeply, we will see that in just five or six days, the rose will become part of the garbage. We do not need to wait five days to see it. If we just look at the rose, and we look deeply, we can see it now. And if we look into the garbage can, we see that in a few months its contents can be transformed into lovely vegetables, and even a rose. If you are a good organic gardener, looking at a rose you can see the garbage, and looking at the garbage you can see a rose. Roses and garbage inter-are. They need each other very much [...] The garbage is just as precious as the rose."

-Thich Naht Hanh, Peace is Every Step

Kissing the Earth

2011-09-06T11:34:00.000-07:00

“Although we walk all the time, our walking is usually more like running. When we walk like that, we print anxiety and sorrow on the earth […] Be aware of the contact between your feet and the earth. Walk as if you are kissing the Earth with your feet. We have caused a lot of damage to the Earth. Now it is time for us to take good care of her. We bring our peace and calm to the surface of the Earth and share the lesson of love. We walk in that spirit.”

-Thich Nhat Hanh, Peace is Every Step

As mentioned in several previous posts, I’m a believer in the therapeutic power of a nice walk. The other night, I was introduced to a “free Thai foot massage”. We arrived at this park, passing a bunch of buff dudes doing their muay Thai training stuff, then came upon this little winding pathway composed of thousands of tiny stones. I removed my shoes and started to walk across. The beginning had smoother stones that began closer to the ground. I worked over those quickly to find that as the path continued, the stones were progressively raised to little rounded points and spread out, thus creating a very uncomfortable experience for my feet. At this point, I noticed a little old man ahead of me. If I were passing by, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed that he was moving through the pathway. So after observing the man, I slowed my pace to what might look like a halt, closed my eyes, breathed in, out, and smiled. As I rolled each foot from the heel to the toes, I mentally scanned each pressure point and imagined exactly where every rock was digging in. As soon as one point was identified, I began to lift off the rock and displace with more weight in another area. Before, I was just rushing over the rocks like some obstacle I wanted to get out of the way in order to get to “happy feet” at the end. After changing my approach, I found my “happy feet” with each mindful step. I felt the intensity of each rock, but rather than seeing them as nuisances, the rocks began to awaken not only the nerves in my feet, but throughout my body and how I carry myself. Correcting my posture and aligning my head over my shoulders over my knees and toes, I felt like I was kissing the Earth with my feet.

The next day, I headed west from the city into the jungle. Craving intimacy with nature, I hiked barefooted through the jungle and waterfalls. Kissing the Earth.

This electrifying feeling reminds me that having a harmonious yet mutually vulnerable relationship with the earth is really the only way to have sustainably “happy feet”.

2011-05-19T14:58:00.000-07:00

Turn up your speakers, turn off the lights, and dance your way into heaven...

mp3: Jack Penate- Pull My Heart Away

Asadachi!

2010-10-05T00:54:00.000-07:00

So a day after my last somewhat unsettling post, I got a job. In the words of my partner's parents, "A good balance between working towards your future and staying in the moment helps you to just be" and how true that is. After having one of the hardest, most emotionally and physically demanding jobs I think anyone could ever have (wilderness therapy with juvies), it's been hard for me to just let go, take some time for myself, and relax without feeling worthless.

Before coming out here, I was proud to tell people that I was looking forward to bagging groceries. I think my job is a step up from that. I've never worked retail before, but I am now the proud employee of Surf N Sea, the oldest surf shop on the North Shore AND the only one right on the beach. I get free rentals for myself and a friend (that goes for surfboards, stand up paddle boards, kayaks, dive equipment, etc). I am also required to take surf lessons some of the best to break some bad habits, as well as being required to swim with sharks (from a cage, of course). After 3 months I'll get PADI certification (which is super expensive otherwise).

Anyway, even though it's retail and I'm quite anti-capitalist, I love my job. At least half of our customers are Japanese, so I've been trying to pick up phrases here and there. I can say things ranging from "yes you are very very skinny, but this will shrink in the wash" to "hello, you have nice morning wood!" thanks to an initiation prank played on me by my co-workers. If I do end up studying Japanese Politics in graduate school, this may or may not be of some use...

Working towards the future but staying in the moment... one embarrassed Japanese customer at a time.

Cathedrals

2010-09-27T11:31:00.001-07:00

In the cathedrals of New York and Rome
There is a feeling that you should just go home
And spend a lifetime finding out just where that is

mp3: "Cathedrals"- Jump, Little Children

It's a funny thing to be homesick when I'm not sure what or where it is I'm missing.

And it's easy to forget to be thankful for things when I have so much to be thankful for.

Quotidian life of a fresh transplant

2010-09-12T19:03:00.000-07:00

Georgia, Alabama, Mississippi, Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, and now Hawaii.

We arrived in Hawaii just to catch the sunset and sleep in the car near Pipeline.

Monday
(-) woke up cranky from jet lag/sleeping in a car
slept in the car again that night

(+) woke up ON THE BEACH
Nick discovered that the beach in the morning is better than a shopping mall-- salvaged a rugby football and sand pail
set up several appointments to check out apartments

Tuesday
(+) we got our very first apartment. It's got wood floors, washer and dryer, dishwasher, a full kitchen, balcony, and it's ON THE NORTH SHORE

(-)Slept on hard wood floors
had to convince Nick not salvage the used sponge on the side of the road for our apartment

Wednesday
(+) we got our own bed- $100 with free delivery!
stocked up on taro at the Waialua farmers market
Met Larry *

(-) potentially destroyed phone-- no internet access or phone!
tired from walking 3 miles to the nearest town
no sheets on a used mattress... yick...

Thursday
(-) took the bus down to Honolulu/Waikiki to replace the phone at the apple store

(+) found out the phone was okay!
got to show Nick why we're so lucky to be on the North Shore (he hadn't seen Waikiki/Honolulu before)
made out like bandits at the goodwill store to stock our apt.

Friday
(+) we got a couple of beach cruisers- $80 a pop

(-) mine got a flat within 30 minutes of riding it
we found out that the surf spot behind our house is known as "Hammerheads" because it's a breeding ground for hammerheads, but also notorious for shark sightings (!) Not that that will stop me...

Saturday
(+) got a leather recliner from a garage sale for $15
rekindled my love for lilikoi lemonade at the Waimea farmers market
befriended Maui, a Native Hawaiian artist (who hooked me up with recycled blankets and towels)

(-) lost my boyfriend somewhere and had to talk to people at garage sales to track him down

Sunday
(+) Stocked up on produce and acai bowls at the Haleiwa Farmers Market
+began the process of pimping my ride- I've now got a milk crate on the back to carry my junk. next to come- streamers, big cushy seat, and a horn.

(-) I've been stuck in this coffee shop for a few hours trying to jailbreak my iphone so we can get internet access without having to haul the lappy 3 miles into town. Wah.

*Larry will likely be blogged about in the future due to his well-rounded awesomeness.

The Gadflies of Society

2010-08-15T21:48:00.000-07:00

I've just finished my tour de grad schools. I traveled from Atlanta GA, through Texas, Arizona, San Diego, LA, San Francisco, and back down to San Diego visiting a total of 10 schools. That said, it was absolutely exhausting. Nick and I lived out of a car from couchsurfers to campsites for nearly two months on tortillas, peanut butter, and bananas. We invented "couples therapeutic boxing" during this time. Who says fighting doesn't solve anything?

I started my trip thinking I wanted to study Political Theory. When I was working in the woods, this is all I thought about and all I wanted to read. Everything just seemed so applicable-- living in a "state of nature" to forming a social contract brought me back to Locke and Rousseau. I didn't really give a crap about what was going on in China, North Korea, immigration, or even the oil spill, because those things didn't seem to affect my daily life whatsoever. Political Theory is applied everywhere-- in our everyday relationships that involve power and authority.

Political Philosophers are the gadflies of society. We're supposed to be those who reject conventional lives while stirring up public officials-- posing more questions than providing answers. When speaking with Political Theorists from various universities, I detected a trend that the job market is extremely tough for Theorists in particular. There are maybe 30 tenure-track positions across the country per year.

After I left the woods (unemployed, mind you), my head slowly began to descend from the clouds. Basic concepts of survival in a capitalist system became part of my reality.

I need money to eat==> I need food to survive. ==> I need my Whole Foods to survive well. ==> I need more money to be able to afford Whole Foods. ==> I need a job to make money. ==> I need a job.

Also, after leaving my small community in the woods, I've become more cognizant of my role as a citizen in the United States. When I came back from Samoa, I didn't feel comfortable jumping into corporate America, much less engaging in politics-- so life in the woods seemed fitting for me. But moving on has shown me how American politics affect my everyday life, and I've realized that hiding from American happenings doesn't mean my hands are clean from all American blunders. I'm learning responsibility.
__________________________________

Now, I am in Conway, NH with Nick and his parents. After taking the GRE Wednesday, we'll go to a beach house for a week, and then we're flying to Hawaii where we will look for work/shelter, apply to schools, and there we will stay until we've got responses.

A photo taken of Nick after we dined in the parking lot of a Fredricksburg HEB. Milk and good protein are hard to come by when you're on a budget! We've eaten 320 cheesy cracker sandwiches since this day.

2010-07-12T07:17:00.000-07:00

7-12-10

a sore back from driving too much plus sleeping on gravel
a peeling nose from too many hours in the sun
a couple-a 85 cent breakfast tacos
today meet with some profs @ UT and talk political theory
do the laundries
get the auto check
shower at a pit stop
drive to new mexico and wake up to the desert

on my way...

Grad School Tour

2010-06-24T08:09:00.000-07:00

These are my tentative plans upon leaving EYA

July 1st pick up Nick at the Atlanta International Airport
July 2-5th- HEB/DFW
July 6-11th Austin
July 12- Late August West Coast Grad School Tour

View Post-EYA Pre-Grad school adventure in a larger map

The Moving Ritual and Transformation

2010-06-19T22:19:00.000-07:00

I'm preparing myself for another move. I'm beginning to notice a trend in my pre-move rituals. There's always a lot of baking involved. And cleaning. And making things. I still can't put my finger on how that works out... it's like I'm resisting the move externally by "nesting" to the extreme. Before going to Samoa, I had a batch of muffins/cakes/cookies every night. Before North Carolina I cranked out an entire quilt. And lately I've just been drawing, baking, sewing, and all things DIY. Analyze that.

I also have the obligatory family check-in. William, my oldest brother, has helped me transition into and out of my camp in North Carolina/into camp in Georgia, and now is helping me transition out of EYA for good. I like to toss out ideas of where I'm going/what I'm doing with him, because I know he'll be the first person to set me straight if he thinks my route is all cattywompus. This weekend, his underwater hockey team put together a glove-making party to coat basic gloves with caulk so their hands/knuckles won't scrape on the pool floor at their tournament next week. His childhood best friend and wife came to visit, and this is the conversation that ensued:

On a more serious note, after the party, I split to go see Mason Jennings play at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta. When I was living in California and feeling unsettled/ungrounded, I would just go walk to Balboa park, listen to Mason Jennings, lay in the grass and let bugs crawl on me. And somehow I felt so centered. Often, his songs depict others' lives and experiences that most people would see as mundane, but the attention he pays to their work has so much care and interest. The songs seem to create a curiosity and love for all experiences, and especially respect for elders.

I'd felt disoriented as a result of preparing for this move, and I just had a feeling that I'd leave the concert tonight with a new sense of purpose, almost like I used to on Sundays after leaving church.

Anyway, tonight Mason talked about a lost and forgotten old song he'd written called "The Field" and the irony in the fact that he'd recently written another song called "The Field" and that to him, the two had nothing to do with each other. But the funny thing to me is that they're both talking about a home or a haven. It's getting late and I don't think I could do justice to the songs or my feelings if I tried to further explain, but I can say that they've inspired me to a sense of peace and purpose during these frantic rituals of re-orienting myself towards "home".

Disclaimer: you might need to grab a tissue before listening to this next one. Disregard the insensitive screaming girl in the beginning who gets excited when anyone says "birthday".

what Easter means to me...

2010-04-04T11:53:00.000-07:00

2010-03-20T19:37:00.000-07:00

I'm back from Nicaragua. Enjoy some video clips:

Our treehouse for the first 3 nights:

Trying to see how many cartwheels I can do without losing my gallopinto:

Nick playing soccer with some locals at sunset

PS Happy Birthweek to two awesome people-- Michelle and Thanasi*!

*I don't know why I don't have anything written about Thanasi on here, but he's just a good old soul. I met him around a year ago in Wilmington at a CouchSurfing event, and then we became surf buddies and then realized we're just meant to be best friends forever.

Here's a lil montage (mostly of seatbelt-restrained dance parties):

Holiday

2010-02-24T05:43:00.000-08:00

In 5 days I'm traveling to a country with every reason to distrust the United States.

It's not Iran...

And somehow I'm drawn there...

(but it could be the surf too)

Devil Went Down to Georgia

2009-11-30T09:14:00.001-08:00

I'm at my new camp in Suches, GA now, and I absolutely love it. My second day here I went sliding down a waterfall in freezing weather with some of my co-counselors.

At my last camp, I had been facilitating drum circles with my djembe and then letting campers use buckets and other things to make noise. I started doing it here at my new camp since one of the master counselors has built up a nice collection of drums, and it's been really successful! After we play as a group, we discuss the dynamics of leadership and harmony within the group and how it comes out when we play.

When the parents came to take their kids home for Thanksgiving, I did a drum circle workshop to show them what we were working on, and afterwards a parent approached my boss and noted that there weren't enough drums for everyone to play, and then offered to buy as many drums as we needed. AWESOME. My boss is also talking about sending me to a percussion/djembe/drum circle facilitator clinic to really boost this program. Friggin sweet. AND we're talking about taking a group on a surfing trip to Florida sometime in the winter. I'm happy.

And for all other things that can't be described in words, here's a snippet of what I've been up to:

Finally, I should note that I don't get cell phone reception out here, and I drive into town maybe once a week at the most. However, I do love snail mail! Here's my new mailing address:

4970 Camp Rd
Suches, GA 30572

End of the Road

2009-11-30T07:23:00.000-08:00

Alright, now for the real update. True to the title of my blog, I've moved. I've transferred from a state-run camp in Candor, NC to a private camp in Suches, GA.

It was hard to leave my last camp, mostly because of the people I'd grown close to-- both campers and staff. My last week was an emotional rollercoaster. I had campers cussing me out and saying they couldn't wait until the day I left, but then hours later crying and telling me I was like a family member... and that if the campers at my new camp didn't treat me right, they'd take a day trip over to Georgia to "set them straight".

I felt so uncertain about my decision to transfer. At first I thought it was a good time to leave because I didn't have strong ties to any particular group. I was bouncing around from group to group with no real sense of ownership. But when I saw the reactions to my decision, I realized that I had built bonds with a few individuals, and that leaving them would feel like severing limbs from my body. It's hard to separate your professional life from the personal when you feel less like an authority figure and more like a mother.

At my How-Out (goodbye ceremony), one of my campers didn't say any goodbyes, but instead just started singing to me:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MxiqAZVC8Hw

I think the kids were taking bets on who would make me cry the most, and this guy was a serious contender. As much as it made me sad to leave, I'm confident that the timing was right, and that there are good chiefs there who will continue to show love, care, and support to the kids.

LEAF Fall 2009

2009-11-24T09:22:00.000-08:00

I met my friend Michelle again at the Lake Eden Arts Festival on October 17th-19th. This is a bi-annual hoodang and as a music festival junkie, I feel qualified to say that this one is unlike all others.

Here's a montage of some clips I took at the festival this Fall:

I love this shindig because:
1. It has brought in some of the most talented international artists I've ever seen and has introduced me to a variety of other cultures' indigenous instruments.
2. It's an interactive experience. From didjeridoo workshops to contact improv dance classes, the festival pulls you in as a participant so that you are not merely an observer/critic. Everyone is encouraged to bring their instruments and there are jam tents set up all over. Every stage is set in front of a dance floor to encourage anyone and everyone to contribute artistically.

3. Bon fire drum circle dance party. 'Nuff said.
4. It's a big camping trip in a beautiful location. It's centered around a lake with a zip-line and water slide
5. It's community/family oriented, and it's rather small, so I would recognize familiar faces all weekend rather than feeling like I was swimming in a mob at all times. This small community feeling seemed to hold people accountable to their actions. Much like the whole don't-fart-in-an-elevator-because-everyone'll-know-you-did-it rule, people were very considerate and kept the campgrounds clean.

Here's another video that someone put together of this fall's festival:

24th Revolution Around the Sun (and other things that make full circles)

2009-11-24T07:14:00.000-08:00

I had a good birthday. I went to see the Avett Brothers live in Charleston, SC with my friend Michelle.

Michelle (Misa) was one of the twelve palagi who studied in Samoa with me-- who was branded with me, and who pulled me through the trauma of my drowned iPod. Some of my happiest memories in Samoa were just singing with her. We'd pick a random song (usually 90's... often Weezer) and just sing our hearts out, and even though neither of us were outstanding vocalists, singing with her was better than listening to any danggone iPod. I discovered music in a new dimension-- a "non-verbal" form of communication that forms real bonds between people.

I'm proud to say that I turned her onto the Avett Brothers. I sat in our "computer lab" all day (literally) just to download two songs (Nothing Short of Thankful and Colorshow). Then we sat in our ofisa and listened to them on repeat in dead silence. The Avett Brothers' music will probably always make me nostalgic about Samoa (as I've said before).

It was only fitting that Michelle and I would reunite for the first time since Samoa at an Avett Brothers concert.

Footage from that concert:

And here's a lil' clip of one of my campers singing to me when I came home:

River Trip Recap (day 1-8 plus a mooovie!)

2009-09-06T17:00:00.000-07:00

I'm home! I just got back from a two week canoe trip. We paddled almost 100 miles into South Carolina and I think we've all got sponge foot. Here's a video I threw together of video clips and photos:

Day 1
So yeah. When we left, we loaded our gear onto the river in our canoes in record time (20 minutes to load two weeks worth gear for 16 people!) We were so proud of ourselves and paddled our way to our first campsite, where we discovered that we left our tarps-- essential equipment to keep us dry if it rains and to set our gear on if we happen to need to camp on a sandbar (sand gets in EVERYTHING). It was here that I also discovered dilemma #2-- my monthly visitor came to join me. As the only female on the trip out of 15 males, I had no realistic way of explaining why I was so irritable or why I had to go back into the forest behind the big trees so often.

Day 2
By the second day, I was already feeling uncomfortable. The heat really started getting to me (especially because my company has a policy that we cannot wear shorts on the river trip. Something about bug bites, poison ivy, and sunburns).
I was paddling along, when I hear "Chief! Somebody is in the water! You gotta get back there!"
I was frenzied... my canoe partner had never paddled before and we struggled trying to maneuver upstream. By the time I got near, I discovered that it was my best swimmer that went in the water, so I stopped stressing. It turned out that he got stung in the face 3 times by a wasp and then just gave up and jumped in. I was disappointed, first, because it took me so long to get to him. Second, because I missed an opportunity to jump in the water and cool off! When I got into my tent that night, I had large rashes and boils all up and down my body.

Day 3
The next day was a layover day. We came upon a State Park, and another wilderness therapy program had come through a week or so before and trashed the place. After some wheelin' and dealin', my camp director was able to get us a few nights there under the condition that we'd perform community service picking up litter along the roads. We were walking up the road sweating profusely, when a man stopped his tractor in front of us and asked us if we'd like something to drink. I consented for everybody and we made our way to his front lawn. His wife came out with a pitcher of ice water and cups, and then offered to fill up each of our water bottles. We told the man that we were an alternative wilderness program for at risk youth, and he told us he was a pastor. When we left, he told us to rest knowing that somebody who doesn't even know any of us will be praying for us. That night all my kids agreed that that was the highlight of the day. After finishing community service, we paddled to a spot out of the moving current where we could swim and wash our clothes. Several of my kids made comments that they "didn't know you could just wash your clothes in the river just like that". I think a lot of them felt really good about themselves and their new found skill, even if their clothes didn't smell just like they would if mom had done 'em.

Day 4
The next day we loaded up our canoes to get back out on the river. It started pouring down rain, so we pulled our canoes over to shore to pass out ponchos. The cool rain boosted the morale of our heat exhausted crew. We pulled off to set up camp on a sandbar that I knew was a bad idea. The moment I saw it, I thought "this looks like gators, mosquitos, and snakes". However, it was relatively close to a main road with a store.

Day 5- Day 6
We decided to have another layover day at this location, so that our camp director could swap out with my friend/ co-chief Jamie (another female!) and so that they could bring a camper who had been away at his grandfather's funeral. This was one of our roughest nights, as many of our kids were tired, dirty, and wondering if this river trip was really all I'd hyped it up to be. Plus, I was absolutely right about the mosquitos, gnats and sand fleas. Rainy day+sand bar= bad news. Normally, my co-counselors and I would have focused on them having fun and we'd dismiss bad behavior/disrespect, but since we had a layover day, we decided to keep the kids up and address problems. And by we, I mean my co-counselor, Richard (who is from Ghana and I'm sure his excess energy can be attributed to this) did most of the work dealing with the kids on this night. I just kinda sat there and nodded for moral support.

Day 7
The day after, we got on the river and I think my paddling buddy got sick of me. I can be very type-A/Virgo/controlling. When we pulled off the river to set up camp, it was pouring down rain and we struggled trying to decide how we would eat our dinner. Luckily, I had some resourceful campers and co-chiefs who set up a fly tarp over our fire. They cooked some Pep-Mac which was sandy, yet delicious.

Day 8
This day we woke up and it took us a bit to get on the river. We switched up our canoe partners, and I was with another camper who was terrified of water. We stopped for lunch right under a bridge because we were nearly out of water and it was a short 20 minute walk to the store to fill up our jugs. While we waited on the others to get water, I worked with my Shining Star trying to teach him how to swim. I was in knee-high water and asked him to sit in it (with a life-vest on) and he freaked out. This kid is terrified of water. He finally worked up the courage to float around while walking on his hands, and I think that was a highlight of the trip for both of us. He was screaming "I'm swimming!"... I was screaming "you're swimming!". It was real cute. I gave a stink eye to anyone who laughed and said otherwise. While this is happening, the rest of my kids were playing WWF. When he got back in the boat with me, he went back to being a brat. He freaked out at one point and threatened to get on land and start walking towards a main road.

I'm out of time and it's probably best that I don't post everything, anyway. Here's a couple finishing thoughts that may or may not be edited later... gimme some time to process it all...

This job has compelled me to become a more spiritual person. I wouldn't say religious, cause I really have no idea what to believe in when it comes down to the details of it all... but I do know that I can say I believe in a God that unites all people from all backgrounds.

I strategically read Lord of the Flies to them at night while they were settling into their sleeping bags. So often at camp, they complain about how they hate adults telling them what to do. So I gave them the 411 about what life might look like if they were on their own struggling with the forces of nature. They really got into it, and inserted themselves as characters "Chief, do you think I'm kinda like Ralph... and *Arnold's kinda like Piggy? I mean, he's the nerd after all... and I'm the only one who's got any sense around here."

Deliverance

2009-08-05T19:53:00.000-07:00

Right now I've got about 10 minutes to post before I make myself go to bed. I kinda feel as I did in Samoa-- overwhelmed by living out of my "comfort zone"... always feeling like there's never enough time to make the most of these unique experiences...

This will probably be my last night at my time off house in the next month. Right now I'm packing for a river trip I'm taking with my group on the Lumber River. For 14 days, we'll wake up each morning around 5, pack up our stuff, gather wood/cook our food... then paddle a few miles to our next spot to set up camp/gather wood/cook food. And if we have enough time, we'll fish and swim and play! I'm so stinkin' excited.

A good portion of my kids didn't know how to swim before they came to camp... and were afraid to even go near water. That's been a funny concept for me to wrap my mind around... because I just assumed that maybe 2% of the world population didn't know how to swim. And yet at camp, it feels like 2% of the population did know how to swim before coming to camp. Being one of 3 lifeguards at our camp, I feel a little pressure when it comes to water safety.

This afternoon as I was working with them and teaching them how to paddle a canoe, I had one kid scared out of his pants. He was acting really squirrely and trying not to show it, but when we got to the part where he had to tip the canoe, he started freaking out. I waited in the water for him, and after he tipped and then realized that he wasn't drowning and that I wouldn't let him drown... he eased up, pulled himself back into the canoe, and the rest of the afternoon he was a paddling machine. That was a rewarding moment. I love this kid.

Random tangent: I just watched Deliverance for the first time last week. I absolutely loved it-- it resonated through the core of my being. I love the scene where they're trying to decide whether to be honest "law-abiding" citizens who would confess to the county for murdering somebody... and then Burt Reynolds steps in and goes "What LAW!? Where's the LAW out here?" I swear I've thought that before. In the "wilderness", there's so many variables that it seems laughable that a written law would suffice to bring justice into a community. It seems that laws can only work when there's a solid community of people who believe in outcomes for certain behaviors. Laws make us think that the world works in a predictable way... when it's anything but that...

2009-07-27T20:42:00.001-07:00

Love doesn't happen haphazardly. It is a conscious decision.

Be patient with teenagers.

A hand on someones shoulder can calm someone down faster than a thousand comforting words.

If you wake up with gnats all over you... You better bring a rain jacket.

Don't snap at children when they make racist/ sexist/ other discriminatory comments... But do ask a million questions to help them understand what they are saying.

Shower. Read. Write. Sleep.

2009-07-08T19:40:00.001-07:00

Tonight I told my boys I'd be peeing in a bucket and that it would go in my tent with me while I slept... (just as i did when i was in a girls group) And after a moment of awkward silence where everyone was busy mentally dissecting the fact that my pissing ritual is different from theirs, my quietest most supportive camper said " uh uh chief it ain't gonna go down like that".

I'm still in my tent laughing. I dunno... Guess you had to be there? But gah I love my little chivalrous juvies!!!

Life at camp

2009-06-28T07:40:00.000-07:00

Cleaning out my car was like cleaning out my brain. So therapeutic!

So here's an update on the goings-on in my life.

There are only 4 out of 12 girls left in my original group. Some graduated successfully, and others were exited (meaning they left the program "unsuccessfully"). The hardest thing about this job has been letting go of these kids, and knowing that there are some I can only help so much.

I'm going to a boys group permanently starting tomorrow. I'm definitely gonna miss working with my girls, but this will be a nice change. So far every time I've been in a boys group, I've had an awesome time. They've been very physically active, whereas my girls seemed to loathe hiking anywhere or partaking in group games. I could go on about this, but if pictures/videos are worth a thousand words then I'll spare myself some typing:

Motel 6 writers block

2009-06-27T07:07:00.000-07:00

I checked into a Motel 6 so that I could have some time alone and that I could just sit and write. I feel I've got a lot of important things I need to get out, but at the same time I don't really have anything of importance to say at all.

I really just wanna go clean out my car. I bet if I had a clean car I wouldn't have had to pull into a Motel 6 to think... Yes... I'll go clean out my car...

2009-06-25T21:12:00.000-07:00

"Love one another but make not a bond of love:
Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls."

YOU are pulling me through this. I just thought you should know that I love you... I think of you often...

...Oh, and that I also use the word "LOVE" loosely...

... (and particularly)...

...and that I shouldn't be able to post at this hour?

... and that "the trapeze act was wonderful but never meant to last..."

iB::Topic::Survivor: Samoa Contestant Spoilers

2009-06-17T03:57:00.001-07:00

http://www.survivorskills.com/cgi-bin/ikonboard/ikonboard.cgi?act=ST&f=96&t=6749

Sent from my iPhone

list of blunt points number... purple?

2009-05-10T22:20:00.000-07:00

GAH too much to blog about. Not enough time. I'm sacrificing a shower for time to post this list of blunt points

1. Four of my girls were exited from the program. I'm sad...
2. Spiders are EVERYWHERE. And I got chiggers. I hate um.
3. I went surfing with a buddy last weekend during a storm and dolphins came right up next to us!
4. There was a nasty thunderstorm last week and one of our groups got knocked to the ground from the lightning.
5. I spent my weekend at the Lake Eden Arts Festival. I am a contra-dancin', didgeridoo playin, drum circle bandit!
Here's a clip of me goin' down a waterslide:)

6. Matrimony. Holy matress money.

From Waves to Couches...

2009-05-02T20:47:00.000-07:00

The past three weekends I've spent my time off with couchsurfers. Couchsurfing.com is an online community of people (usually travelers/nomadic types) who participate in either surfing a local's couch or in hosting visitors. When I first heard about couchsurfing from my oldest brother, I thought the idea was insane. Why would anyone voluntarily consent to a stranger staying at their house?

A clip on couchsurfing:

As I got into traveling, I went through a progression of changes that I think most couch-surfers go through:

discovering that there's more to a city than what you can read on wikitravel (to understand the customs/culture of any given region, it's wise to consult a local);
being in a situation foreign to everything you're used to, and being left with no choice but to trust a complete stranger with your life;
understanding what it's like to try to build a home away from what you had previously called home;
realizing that you might not really know where/what home is, thus suddenly longing to root yourself in a new community;
blamo! couchsurfing doesn't seem that weird anymore.

*Soap Box Alert*
I think this is a revolutionary project as it teaches us to overturn our individualistic American tendencies by opening up our "private property" to a community of strangers. Communal lifestyles have traditionally worked best in closed environments where people don't move around much (like islands) because if somebody does wrong (i.e. steals from you), they cannot run from their mistake. Because people are more mobile than ever, it seems as though communal living should be a thing of the past, and that nobody should be able to trust anyone. But this project defies these laws.

*stepping off the box*

There's a group of us from Raleigh that have been meeting up on the weekends to go to concerts, surfing (as in, the wave kind), Euro dance parties and so on. This weekend I missed the Raleigh couchsurfer activities as I headed to Black Mountain for LEAF. I drove up to the festival, and arrived 5 minutes after they closed the gate, meaning I wouldn't be able to camp there that night. Bah humbug! I drove into a grocery store parking lot and calculated exactly how much leg room I'd have in the back seat of my car if I did some re-arranging so that I could sleep there for the evening. Then I remembered a guy from Asheville that had messaged me some time ago about wanting to take a job in wilderness therapy, so I got on my handy iPhone and looked up his number. The phone conversation couldn't have been more awkward. It was late and I was rude for calling, but he and his roommates were more than gracious and let me stay the night-- even when he had to leave for a wedding the next day. Anyway, it happened that he just started training for a wilderness therapy program up in Asheville, and so we had a good time swapping stories about that stuff.

Getting more involved in couchsurfing has been one of the best decisions I've made since moving out here. Sometimes with my job I seriously feel like my sanity is at stake. I'm living with hormonally imbalanced juvenile delinquents, and sometimes I'll go days without even seeing somebody "normal". It's so easy to get caught up in camp life. But then when I meet people outside of camp--I'll be talking to someone-- and as soon as the job thing comes up, it's almost like I'm telling them I'm from another country that they've never even heard of. So I feel like a foreigner.

With couchsurfers though, it feels like I'm meeting "my people" for the first time, and yet it feels like I've known them forever. Every person I met has a good-natured unassuming quality to them. They also don't have the "I've got my social circle and you're not a part of it" vibe. It makes me realize how many people are trying to build a home away from home, or how many people are still trying to figure out where home is. f They don't judge me for being unsettled in my life, and yet they're some of the most inspiring people I've met. It doesn't make sense that a group of wanderers could form a community, but here we are...

Che

2009-04-17T20:29:00.000-07:00

April 18, 2009 (my computer's been funky and wouldn't allow me to publish this until now)

I just got back from seeing , and I'm back to wondering what the heck I'm doing with my life.

In the 8th grade, I read Animal Farm and (in an abstract sense) learned what communism had been and why it didn't work out. Then in college I read Marx and Rousseau and began to understand the intentions of communism as I grew discouraged by the functions capitalism. Then when I went to Samoa I saw communism in practice, and I was inspired. When I came back to the States, it felt so difficult to try to insert myself back into the capitalist machine... so I took a job in the woods of North Carolina making half of what I would if I just threw in the towel and got a job working for The Man.

I just got back from seeing Che, and now I'm reminded of the haunting question of what the heck I'm doing with my life. Halfway through the movie, a dead sweat and cold panic swept over me. I realized I still lived in America, I still had enough money to go to the movie theater (and go out for pizza afterwards!) What's gonna happen when I get outta the woods? I need to move to South America. Yeah... Argentina... Yeah! But then I was hit with the recollection that they are hostile to blonde/blue eyed Americans. That sucks. How can I be a part of the anti-American revolution when I'm so obviously American? So obviously "white". I've got so much white guilt it ain't even funny, yo.

2009-04-17T11:09:00.001-07:00

The Beauty and the Mess

2009-03-30T19:53:00.000-07:00

The beauty and the mess of a "non-punitive" wilderness therapy program is that there's little-to-no incentive for the youth to follow directions from their authority figure. But when things got all "Lord of the Flies" down in campsite a few weeks in a row, my girls began to realize the benefits of having authority figures.

Last week went pretty well. My group (not just individual girls) was actually looking to me for advice/ directions. They worked their butts off just to make me happy. We cleaned our campsite inside and out and chopped tons of wood.

Annitta had her court date and was sent to a youth detention center (basically jail for kids)... but if she does well she can come back within one to three weeks. She's been in my thoughts and prayers... she's such an intelligent and morally conscious girl... and I sincerely doubt these are attributes she would "fake". But what is she doing hangin around the people she's hanging around and doing the things she's doing? What happens when she gets out of camp and has to face negative influences again? Why am I stressing over this stuff on my time off?

Goons Be Lurkin'

2009-03-20T21:52:00.000-07:00

In one week I've had higher highs and lower lows than any other time in the woods. Monday night, my girls had just returned from their visit home, and they were acting a little... off. Every time we went into community*(1), my girls would make a big scene and made Blood references any time a particular group was near**(2). Two girls were leading the pack-- Annitta and Hallie*(3).

Annitta was secretly my favorite girl in the beginning-- the one who told me I was her inspiration/role model. She was charged for armed robbery in a gang initiation back in November, and yet admitted that she didn't want to live that life anymore and wanted my help. She had been focused on making change at camp up until two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago Hallie came to camp. She reminds me of all the popular girls I knew in middle school who burned out too soon. On her initial visit, she was screaming and crying that she'll never come to this stupid camp. But when she did, the first person she befriended was Annitta. Almost as soon as this happened, I noticed a turn for the worst in my entire group.

When my girls came back from their visit home, I noticed a group of around 8 of them were calling themselves goons*(4). From Tuesday afternoon until Thursday, the 7 ran "out of bounds" together a number of times... and every time right before they did, like clockwork, they'd say "my goons be luuurkinnnn..." and then they'd run. Sometimes I'd be able to chase them (if I had another chief with me), other times I'd have no choice but to just call in on my radio and hope that somebody else would be available to deal with it. The girls that were being caught and restrained were fighting back more than usual-- hitting me and grabbing at my hair. When they were all brought back to campsite, I tried to supervise carefully by standing in their tents, but found myself having things thrown at me and people physically trying to push me out. I expressed to my supervisor, "My girls have gone CRAZY. I seriously think they're on something."

Wednesday morning, the puzzling behavior began to reveal its rationale when I discovered that there was contraband in our campsite. Hallie had smuggled in what she claimed were "smarties" that she was crushing and sniffing in the bathroom, along with makeup and cigarettes that she stuffed in tampon applicators (and then resealed the container with glue!). On top of that, Hallie and Annitta both had smuggled in cell phones...

Kathleen led my supervisor to where Annitta and Hallie had buried their phones. The other girls were livid, and were ready to beat her ass for snitchin, so when she came back, I told her to go to my tent. After she went in, I blocked the entrance with my body while three girls charged to get past me. At first I shifted to block Annitta with my left arm, then Hallie with my right arm and leg, but when Judy rushed me I fell to the ground face first with my chin and stomach to the rocks while the others walked over me. When I got up, Hallie and Annitta stood hovering and screaming over a terrified and balled-up Kathleen, but then stormed out.

Watching the girls unsettled behavior, I knew that the cell phones, the "smarties", the violent threats and Blood references were only small pieces to a larger puzzle. It killed my nerves, and I don't think I slept more than 2-3 hours each night. I read that after having children, mothers have a hard time sleeping and are more likely to suffer from insomnia, and I'm starting to understand why that is. It's not as stressful when I have a co-chief, but when I'm the only chief in group, I feel as though I can't ever let my guard down or allow myself to think of anything but their safety, because if I make one mistake they could be put in danger.

And I learned the truth to this perception on Thursday morning. I had been watching them like a hawk, but on our way to meet with a teacher, I accidentally left the med bag and my radio behind*(5). I didn't want the girls to know that I didn't have the radio (because they could easily take advantage of that and run immediately), so I whispered my predicament to the teacher, and left her with my group while I told them that I just needed to take a girl to the bathroom. Once we returned, the girls were gone. Four of them had left, and nobody was following them.

Throughout the day I sat with the remaining girls trying to get bits and pieces of information-- descriptions of the clothes they had on as well as descriptions of the clothes they wore under their camp clothes (because if they made it off property, they wouldn't want be mistaken as kids from the wilderness camp and would strip to something else). Everybody had their radio on, teachers, nurses, spouses and even dogs were combing through the woods and circling nearby highways trying to find these girls. The police stations in Montgomery county were alerted and actively searching. Wal Marts in the area were being shut down for the day because of gang initiations that were to take place (which usually involve shooting innocent people... I later found out that my girls had made a stop at Wal-Mart on their escape...) The girls that left weren't messing around. Ten long hours passed, and I was terrified of what might become of the four.

Tha Crossroads

While four of my girls were missing, of the 8 goons there were four that chose to stay behind. One of which was Rhonda. She's a big girl with an intimidating stature, and is a girl of few words... because the words she does say aren't taken lightly by anyone. She's my greatest ally, and always supports my decisions and helps enforce it with the girls. It seems that the kids who really are in gangs are the most well-behaved, because they are just doing their time so they can get back to work.

For the past month or so, after I've put the other girls down for bed, I've been sitting by her bed talking with her every other night about her past and where she wants to go in the future. It took her time to open up to me and describe how she doesn't have much of a family anymore due to gang-related violence. Many of her family members shot and killed-- her own brother was shot in front of her eyes. She wasn't "blessed" into the gang... she was banged in*(6). Her mom lives in Atlanta and is still doing drugs. When she told me all this, she finally burst into tears and said I just wanna be my momma's little girl again. I sat and cried with her (though it was dark, so nobody saw) with my arm around her still and silent.

When I asked her what she was going to do once she got out of camp, she said she didn't know... and that she can't see herself living outside of the gang because they're the only "family" she's got. I asked her, "what about Brittany?" who is her 2 year old niece... and she replied "well, the same thing that happened to me is gonna happen to her too... ain't nothin I can do about that."

Even as stubborn as she pretends to be about changing, I can tell part of her is soft and looking for another way. She's been writing poems that speak against hate and violence but also express a hopelessness as though they are inevitable parts of her life. One night, she handed me a piece of paper and asked me to burn it in "pow-wow"* (7). It was crumpled up and didn't burn all the way through, so when I opened it after she had gone to bed, it read

"John Smith*(3)
3-09-08
RIP
Wrong place at the wrong time"

Because she's used to gang culture, she's a vault when it comes to taking the blame and holding information. When it came to making gang calls in community, Rhonda took the blame when I knew it was Annitta's voice I heard. Then, when the group was addressed for having "white powder", Hallie and Annitta were quick to say that Rhonda brought it, and Rhonda assertively claimed that it was hers. I called their bluff, and said to Hallie, "how dare you put that on her, and try to put it past me like I'm stupid," and then told Rhonda how disappointed I was that she would jeopardize all the growth that she'd been making for another girl's mistake. Its been so frustrating to see so much potential for Rhonda, but that she refuses to see this in herself. While the girls were gone, I gave her a good "talkin'-to" about this, while she sat silently without making eye contact (as she usually does when she's actually listening).

When the four girls returned late Thursday night, I was expecting for them to come in bragging about their escape with cocky attitudes... and to go right back to bullying the rest of the group. My expectations were correct, but they didn't just step right back into their positions of power. Rhonda spoke up and let them have it. She stood up for the girls that "snitched" and spoke against the goons that ran-- telling them "it's not funny, it's not cool, and you're playin' with your life".

When I see change in my girls, it's never when they accept and do the things that I tell them, but when they can teach other girls how to overcome the things I've talked about with them. And it's in these moment that I am changed. I am moved, and I am fulfilled by this continuation of experience, of knowledge, of love... and what feels like a continuation of life itself. Dear GOD, this is what living is about...

_________________________________________________
*(1)community-the central area where all groups meet to eat meals
*(2)Groups aren't supposed to communicate with other groups for several reasons-- a big one being because of gang affiliations and the danger of gang activity taking place at camp
*(3)names changed for HIPAA
*(4)goon- nick-name for a low-ranking Blood member. They're the ones doing the dirty work-- carrying out hits and dealing drugs, so that the higher-ups can be safe of prosecution. They're usually under 18 so that they can avoid doing time as an adult.
*(5)chiefs carry this with us everywhere. med bag is essential for emergencies... but in my case the radio was absolutely essential in case any of my girls were to try to run out of bounds and I couldn't follow them
*(6)getting" blessed" into a gang is sometimes granted to a sister of a high ranking male, but getting "banged" in means the female is initiated by having (most often unprotected) sex with numerous members of the gang
*(7) pow-wow is where we evaluate our day individually and as a group... and reflect on our lives in and out of camp

something about Rosa Parks, Ani DiFranco, and... fish?

2009-03-15T19:21:00.000-07:00

Welp, here I am on my time off and I had a pretty good week. The week before was a rough one-- one of my favorite girls graduated from the program, and the remaining girls were taking their frustrations out on me...

And I go on in detail about the different challenges I've been facing. But yeah... that was a pretty rough week.

On my time off after that week, I returned to the water (the beach is only 2.5 hours from me). And it did me a world of good. Fish can't be out of water for too long. There's something so therapeutic in watching the ebb and flow of water... and watching water crash down onto the shore displacing objects that once seemed fixed.

When I returned to the woods, one of my girls had drawn me a picture of a seashell and she wrote "thanks for not quitting on us..." <== redeeming moment that makes me wanna do this job even if I were paid a nickel an hour!

Wednesday was "Chief Appreciation Day" where all the chiefs drove out to Dave and Busters to have a meal and play some video games away from the kids. It was kinda funny because nobody had the opportunity to shower so we just showed up stinky and in our camp clothes... and we all just stared blankly at the TV as though it were a totally foreign object. When I returned my campers gave me this poster:

... yet another redeeming moment:)

Then thursday I had a family conference where I got to meet the kids' parents and talk with them about some of our issues this past session as a group before I let them go on their home visit. Something I would like to focus on next session is helping them find self worth without seeking male approval... but that's all I got. All in all, it was a transforming session.

THEN because all my girls got to go home, I had 4 days of time off! I went to Asheville and stayed in a hostel/ tried (and failed) to get into a sold-out Ani DiFranco show/ soaked up all the rich white liberal gunk I could stand.

Tomorrow is day one of a new 5 week session and I am ready (for once).

3 months

2009-02-28T16:45:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure if it's because I'm sleep deprived or if there's something wrong with me, but I really don't have anything nice to say. Just a lot of depressing thoughts that will stay in my paper journal.

Everyone told me to prepare for the worst with this job-- to expect to be hated by my kids by my third month. When I imagined the worst, I forgot to include the notion that these kids are all I know. They're my best friends. My worst enemies. The little sisters I never wanted.

It used to feel like "home" was at my time off house, but now it's in my tent. My time off house and everything outside of the woods feels foreign. I'd been seeing a guy who works at another camp since I started this job, and as awesome of a guy as he is, I feel so emotionally drained by the end of the week that I can't really do my part to make a relationship work. We get together, and we say "let's not talk about work"... and then we're both rendered silent.

Somehow I just feel lonely.

Welp, I gotta wake up in about 6 hours and head back into the woods. Now is the time when I should stop thinking about myself and focus on how I can help my kids... so here's a little pick-me-up pep talk

"First it is a challenge. Secondly you have to learn to prepare meticulously, for your life may depend on the thoroughness and extent of your planning. You have to get off your tail and spur yourself to get going. You have to leave your comfortable slot and go out where things are rough. You have to push into the background the worry of the less likely hazards and make some bold judgements about the more probable ones.

You learn not to be frightened by fear. You discover what a fine piece of machinery the human body is and that it can take a tremendous amount of stress before it breaks down. You learn to make decisions and gradually you find your make fewer and fewer mistakes. Your confidence grows and you discover human resources which are ready to be called upon in time of future crises. You learn something about human frailties and develop sympathy for those weaker or less competent than yourself’; you learn to make a team out of group of individuals.

Adventurous experiences out-of-doors are perceived to kindle the enthusiasm of the young, to develop their concern for others, for their community and for the environment. Such experiences provide the means of self-discovery, self-expression and enjoyment which are at once both stimulating and fulfilling.

It thus emerges that, for young people and adults alike, Outdoor Adventure is perceived as a vehicle for building values and ideals, for developing creativity and enterprise, for enhancing a sense of citizenship, and for widening physical and spiritual horizons.”

Another list of incohesive and blunt points

2009-02-21T19:22:00.000-08:00

Nobody 'fessed up to sending the CDs. It's driving me nuts! But it also gives me something to fantasize about. My imagination has had time to wander and I have since made up my mind that I do, indeed, have a secret admirer. Now, I'm debating as to whether said secret admirer is Jake Gyllenhaal or Chris Brown... or Jesse McCartney?
I've got so many stories I don't even know where to begin. Last week alone, I had one suicidal girl go "out of bounds" for 3 hours past our bedtime, and I broke apart a total of 3 fights-- one of which occurred during showers just after I asked my girls Chief Mandy really has to use the bathroom, can you handle yourselves? And just as my pants are down and I'm getting to business, I hear blood-curdling screams. I ran out just in time to catch two half-naked girls in an all-out cat-fight-- just in time to pry ones hair from anothers' claws and separate the two altogether.
Every time I come out of the woods, I'm always shocked to see my appearance. I used to take great pride in my hands, but now they're calloused and cracked from cutting wood/tending fires/restraining the youth . It's especially entertaining to look at my body in the mirror and try to recall where all the bruises and cuts could have come from.
Hurrah economic stimulus package!!! I'm not so concerned with staying on top of the world as an economic superpower, but just the fact that we're finally cleaning up some of our domestic crap (putting more money into under-funded alternative/experiential education programs like the one where I work!)
To anyone who has ever raised a teenage girl- God bless you. They're at the age where they're old enough to be able to carry on an intelligent conversation/forge the appearance of being emotionally mature... but young enough to have the impulses of a child/lack of a filter. I've heard some of the meanest things out of these girls mouths. I can usually brush it off, but after 5 days in the woods by myself with them, sometimes I forget that they're just kids and I take their disrespectful words/gestures seriously. This old Animaniacs clip is even funnier to me now:

6. Wanna know what I do on my time off?

And here's where I get lazy and let others articulate all the things I'm feeling/all the thoughts that are tossing 'round my head. Or maybe I'm just giving myself a pep-talk before I go back to the woods tomorrow...

Now I see the secret of making the best persons, it is to grow in the open air and to eat and sleep with the earth.
- Walt Whitman

On experiential education (and how I want to live my life, in general)...

I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life; living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartanlike as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness out of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience.
- Henry David Thoreau

On helping my kids...
The experience of helping a fellow man in danger, or even of training in a realistic manner to be ready to give this help, tends to change the balance of power in a youth's inner life with the result that compassion can become the master motive.
- Kurt Hahn

On dealing with hard times...
Be like water making its way through cracks. Do not be assertive, but adjust to the object, and you shall find a way round or through it. If nothing within you stays rigid, outward things will disclose themselves.
- Bruce Lee

WOWDANG

2009-02-14T18:44:00.000-08:00

I received a package in the woods the other day without a return address and without any note... but there were two mix CDs. One with a mix of various songs that I like... and then one with Girl Talk. I wanted to say THANK YOU for sending those to me... just what I needed! But who are you, mysterious sender of awesome mix CDs?? I'd like to pretend that I've got a secret admirer ... but there's also a chance that somebody just forgot to throw their name/address on the envelope. Anyway, I'm assuming whoever sent it reads this blog, given that I posted my address here, so if you wanna 'fess up, I'm dying to know where this awesome music came from...

Manoan nuers make ya wanna slap ya mammy

2009-02-14T17:32:00.000-08:00

One thing I love about my job is that it gives me the freedom to share and teach my otherwise useless hobbies/interests. My liberal arts education is paying off, and I absolutely love teaching them this junk! Lately, they've been learning:

Greek mythology
issues in human rights
how to crochet
how to do different gymnastics related things
how to do the "stanky leg" (since they don't have access to the radio, I try to keep them updated on hip-hop culture)
government formation-- ex: why we have a House of Representatives AND a Senate through metaphors and role playing
yoga!-- I'll take them to the pond and talk them through the benefits of meditation/being aware of the body
how to tell what time it is by looking at the stars/other astronomy things (thank you, astronomy class from SU!)
what it's like for Samoan girls their age (I read them Sia Figiel's Girl in the Moon Circle)
how to speak Samoan-- I've assigned each of them a number from 1-10 in Samoan, so whenever we "huddle up", they go around and say their number so I can get a head count.

One night, I had a "chuckwagon"* where I taught the campers basic samoan phrases/commands that could be used at camp, how to sing a song in Samoan, and then showed them pictures of my travels while I narrated the events. The kids got so into it and had so many questions that we went almost an hour past our education time. This was one of my best nights at camp and it made me so happy to see how much the kids got out of it.

For instance, meet LaKendra**. She's not the brightest of the bunch... she is 13 and has trouble with addition (7+7 is 12?), and yet she has soaked up the language better than anyone else. Unbelievable! She rarely turns in notes for chuckwagons, but she did on this occasion:

1. The nuers (numbers) in Manoan (samoan) are so pretty dat it'll make ya wanna slap ya mammy
2. some old lady making a dress or skirt out of bark!!! (this references the picture I showed the campers of fa'amuuli making tapa)
3. Special letter to Mandy
Hey chief how you doing? good? hope so. me? gucci. I'm just wanting to let you know that manoan is a glamorous place to be at and me it hot! Just stay out the ocean don't hang around dolphines/sharks/whales/fish/jellyfish/ i guess turtles.

Thank you, LaKendra. Alofa ia te oe.

*chuckwagon is an education period that a different chief takes on each night-- all groups participate and take notes for education credit.
**Names changed due to HIPAA

25 confessions

2009-02-08T16:58:00.000-08:00

Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

1. It's funny to remember how I used to get offended at almost everything when I was in college.

2. I am a paranoid sleeper. If you wake me up in the middle of the night, don't take whatever I say personally. When I was living with my brother Nick in San Diego, every morning when he'd leave for work at 5 (even though I knew his routine) I'd pop up with fists clenched as soon as I heard the door open and scream "WHO THE **** IS THERE!?!?" This is also bad for me living in the woods, and I've cursed out a few deer.

3. For every blog post I publish, there's at least 5 more I've written that never get published for one reason or another.

4. I'm 23 years old and I still have secret crushes.

5. I'm a morning person.

6. I'm afraid of heights and spinning around on things. I've never been on a real rollercoaster.

7. I'd classify my style as "strictly functional", and I don't intentionally choose to mis-match my clothes, it just kinda happens.

8. I wear the exact same thing 5 days a week (and I don't shower either!)

9. If it weren't for HIPAA, I'd have a novel written about my adventures in the wilderness therapy field. And it'd be a best-seller. And I'd be rich.

10. Talking is such an overrated form of communication. I'd rather dance than talk with you. That's when you really learn who somebody is.

11. I love all things "do-it-yourself". It gives me a sense of control and self-reliance while the economy is all funky.

12. I believe I have a "sacred" place in my abdomen. It activates when I'm in love, when I'm at peace with nature, or when I feel spiritually connected to something. Sometimes I worry that if I were to ever get pregnant and have kids, I would lose that place.

13. I recently purchased "the complete idiots guide to personal finance in your 20s and 30s", and the latest CD by The Fray. No, I'm not embarrassed.

14. On my time out of the woods I worry about my girls way too much.

15. Whatever you just said is probably being tossed around in my head a million different ways.

16. I've got pretty slow reflexes, but I'm learning that I'm excellent at blocking punches/ understanding body movement (if that makes sense?)

17. I'm a calculated risk-taker. I live life like I'm gonna die, cause I'm gonna!

18. I think people who commit suicide are the kinds of people who would walk out on a bad movie at the theater. I'm not that kind of person. If I could put my finger on the thing that drives my life, it's curiosity (maybe mixed with a little hope?).

19. When speaking, I often don't complete sentences. I blame this on my older brothers, because growing up, they were my translators to my parents. To this day, I can blurt obscure phrases and grunts with them and somehow they know exactly what I mean.

20. I don't think I'm naive, I just consciously choose to believe that everything is gonna be alright, and I try to assume/look for the best in everyone/every situation.

21. Religion is a social thing for me. It's a metaphor, or a way to tell somebody else that I believe in great and unexplainable things, and that they can trust me. Go read Life of Pi, and you might just know what I mean.

22. Getting snail mail in the woods is the highlight of my week! Faulkner, Beau, Kati, Mom-- You guys rule.

500 Eku Sumee Dr.
Candor, NC 27229

23. Have you ever read Salinger's 9 stories (particularly, bananafish and masked bandit) and then watched The Fall? Do it. And then get back to me on this one.

24. I'm fairly certain I'll become the crazy cat (/dog?) lady. I think it'd be fun to have a collection and name them after controversial political figures. "Hu Jintao! Give Vladmir Putin back his squeaky toy!"

25. Doing this last one gives me a lot of anxiety. Maybe because I hate finishing projects. I'd rather stay up all night and tweak this last one than get it over with. I'm awkward with goodbyes too...

An old post I forgot to publish

2009-01-24T18:37:00.001-08:00

January 2, 2008
I'm writing this from the comfort of my time-off house located an hour away from the woods. I've gotta preface this post with an apology if my writing is a little awkward. I've been living with 13 year old girls and my vocabulary is suffering as a result.

I've been working for a little over a month and my eyes are widening every day. I work at a co-ed camp where there are 2 girls groups and 3 boys groups, and they aren't allowed to communicate with each other. I've got a group of 11 girls with the youngest being 13 and the oldest 16. Most of them are court ordered. 5 are African American, 4 Caucasian, 2 Latina. Offenses include assault on teachers, drug dealing, and armed robbery. Most came from abusive homes.

There are times when a 9-5 job looks rather attractive, like when I'm chasing girls through the woods in the rain and fog while slipping in mud. It'd be nice to have a job where all disputes were handled professionally... not having to physically restrain anyone and then worry about them swinging punches at me /trying to bite me. If I had a regular 9-5 job, I wouldn't have to worry about waking up to the sound of blood curdling screams because there's boys that snuck into our camp. And it's so dang cold at night. Even as adventurous as I am, I must admit that I sometimes wonder if I'd be better off confined to a cubicle and being a "paper-pusher".

But then there are those few moments that make me feel like I've got the most rewarding job in the world.

Waking up to a family of deer in my campsite
I love seeing how impressionable the girls are. I've been crocheting in any spare time I have, and now my girls are too. My girls asked me how my teeth are so white, and I told 'em it's cause I brush 'em twice a day, and now when I brush my teeth all my girls do too (according to my co-chief, this is outrageously unusual)
Nights when my girls tell me that I'm their inspiration, and that they need me.
All the little things that my girls do to make me laugh. Like when someone farts, they'll go "ooo check yo' drawers!"

*Due to HIPAA regulations, blogging about my job is kind of a big no-no, so there's only so much I can post.

Sing along for the common people

2009-01-17T15:24:00.000-08:00

I came from a privileged background. I had 2 parents who loved me. Who fed me. Who encouraged me to go to school. Who didn't whore me out to people who could hook them up with drugs when I was 9. Who would write me if I was away. Who cared about me. To

I lived in a suburban neighborhood where I never worried about walking around at night. Never worried about getting gang-raped or shot. Never worried if my brothers would make it home okay at night. I've never taken part in armed robbery just so that my brother wouldn't leave my side. I've never had to witness one of my brothers being shot right in front of my eyes.

What am I doing in a job like this? How can I role model for these girls when I have no clue what it's like to grow up in the circumstances they grew up with?

I'll never understand how it feels to live their lives... I can't pretend I never went to school. And I'll never get it right, cause when I'm laying in bed at night watching roaches climb the wall, if I called my dad he could stop it all.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm just singing along for the common people.

With this job, I don't feel like I'm doing anything noble. This doesn't make me a gracious person. I'm only doing it because I've had the luxury of living a privileged life-- where I know what it's like to have somebody love me. To me, this job isn't a noble quest for justice-- it's my social obligation to turn around and show that love and support that I knew growing up to somebody who's never received it.

Lessons down the river of learning

2008-12-12T20:10:00.000-08:00

I just got back from my 2 week training for my new job and these are the things I learned:

1. I learned more than I ever wanted to know about gangs. Okay, who am I kidding? The 2 hours spent covering every gang sign, symbol, color, etc. for every gang were a serious highlight. There were hundreds of slides like this one with every different gang sign imaginable. Awesome.

2. I learned all kinds of wicked choke-holds. Well actually (to be politically correct) they're called "restraints".

3. I learned why these "restraints" are necessary through several anecdotes from other chiefs-- numerous stories of fights, my favorite being the time a camper hit a chief in the head with the back of an axe.

4. We learned that when giving someone who has gone into Cardiac Arrest AED, it's not always a good idea to go with the natural nipple line. We had this zany first aid instructor with an accent that sounded like a mix between a deep south carolina, somewhere in scotland, and maybe a hint of swiss... and he couldn't help but make sexual jokes every 3 minutes.

Favorite quotes:
"Put your hear up by their mouth to see if they're still breeding (breathing). My ears are real ticklish. Just ask my wife."
"Now we usually check for the natural nipple line. But what's the problem with this? What if you've got grandma who was a part of the 1960's liberal women's movement... with all the bra burning... now her nipples might not be at her natural nipple line no mo'!"

5. We learned that if anyone ever asked what company we were with, "Mary Kay" (who was also convening at that hotel) was the wisest answer. First, because we didn't want our misbehaviors to reflect poorly on our program. Second, because the looks on peoples faces were priceless when they heard this (nobody in our wilderness therapy program looks like a mary kay representative)

6. I learned that although I might be okay on a surfboard... on a snowboard I am a fish out of water . On our weekend off, a few of us went snowboarding in Boone. I've got a black, blue, purple, (and maybe a hint of green?) rear end to prove that I am not a snowbunny. But that won't keep me from posing with a snowboard like I own the place!

7. I learned that the people who would take this kind of job are some of the coolest, most interesting, and possibly insane people I've ever met.

To William, Nick, and Kyle Mantzel

2008-12-03T19:30:00.000-08:00

Always remember there was nothing worth sharing like the love that let us share our name.

a lotta NOT moving (or what it looks like when I get domestic)

2008-11-28T22:19:00.001-08:00

Almost six months passed that I'd been home without a "real" job. I DJed a little on the weekends, went out with friends a handful of times, but other than that, what was I doing?

With all this free time, I had the luxury of being able to brush up on some old hobbies, and even take up some new ones. Old hobbies include:
Walking excessively around large bodies of water;
Daily dance party (of one);
Dabbling on any percussive instrument (timpani, marimba, you name it)

A new thing for me is that I've suddenly become super-domestic. Maybe I soaked that in from Samoa's "do-it-yourself"-friendly culture. I'm starting to get really into all things DIY. Anyhoo, I'd been baking something almost every day,

...and then I'd go work on some other project... like sewing a coverlet for my mom's bed, knitting a scarf, or making dresses and skirts...

But the true spawn of my creative energy has been...
MY QUILT!

I've been working hard on this for the past month and a half. I made it out of the lavalavas I wore when I was in Samoa. Each piece of fabric is loaded with memories of the people who gave them to me.

fale

The yellow fabric is from the very first lavalava I bought on my very first drop off. I was so nervous to ask the woman for directions that I bought the lavalava first to make small talk.
The red fabric was given to me AND my other palagi friend by our host mom in American Samoa. She was so cute... and was so excited to send Laura and I to school in matching lavalavas. I also soiled this when I fell into a pool of standing water and re-opened the wound of my infected hand.

Palm Tree

The army green fabric was given to me by the people at Safua
The blue fabric is a lavalava I made in American Samoa.

Fish

Recognize the purple fabric?
Or the fish?

Okay, and this one's a little tricky... but see if you can guess what it is before clicking the link afterwards...

If you've lived in Samoa, you should recognize this instantly. If not, click here. I included this patch because to me, this is the epitome of communalism in Samoan culture.

Even after washing all these, my quilt still smells like 100% DEET. And if there's one thing that can instantly trigger a vast array of emotions and memories I had when I was in Samoa, it's the smell of 100% DEET.

Ia lafoia i le alogalu
This is a Samoan proverb, which basically means may you overcome any challenges you face. But it literally translates to "may you be tossed into the lagoon-side of the wave". The saying refers to a boat trying to enter the lagoon through a narrow passage in the reef. It's a complicated thing to maneuver, but success through such a procedure makes it all worthwhile.

Anyway, I think living at home with nothing to do but make quilts and cupcakes was a difficult point in my life. I mean, I'm glad I have a really cool quilt now, but that's only because I was going insane before with nothing to do. So I'm writing this now so that when the going gets tough with this new job, this quilt can serve as a reminder to me that I could be staying at home with nothing to do but making quilts and playing copious amounts of spider solitaire.

Did you know that some sharks will die if they stop swimming? Just saying.

Emotionalism

2008-11-16T11:41:00.000-08:00

For those who haven't been able to figure it out, the title of my blog "A Lotta Movin'" is the title of an Avett Brothers song

A Lot Of Moving- Avett Brothers

When I started this blog, I wanted to be able to write and think like they do- with a pair of fresh and honest eyes (that cuts through the BS of flowery language). At this point, Samoa was still a mystical, vast, unknown, and "perpetually far away" place to me, but I wanted to get away from that illusion and just get real with how I thought about it. So, I aimed to write from an emotionalist approach...

Emotionalism is the title of one of their albums, and it almost seems like a response to the elitist "emo" music (you know... the absinthe-drinking, Strindberg-reading, people's music) Now, us country folk may not know how to say things real pretty and nice-like, but don't we know what hurtin' feels like too? For me, it's almost impossible to honestly express my deepest emotions while still sounding sophisticated and/ or intelligent. Example:

Tear Down The House

"I remember crying over you, and I don't mean like a couple of tears and I'm blue, I'm talkin' about collapsin' and screamin' at the moon"

These words seem so uncouth... and yet the depth of writing like this lies in its honesty. It exposes all the raw emotions that most people are only comfortable in expressing through lofty and flowery metaphors (which I'm guilty of using but trying to get over).

Most importantly, their music helped me remember where I come from. That's an invaluable thing to understand. There are probably a lot of people (both travelers and people who have never left their hometown) who don't really know what "home" means or what it is to them. After my iPod drowned, I found myself sitting in computer labs and internet cafes for hours at a time just waiting for music to load from their myspace. I know for fact that the last song I played off of my iPod (R.I.P. 12.25.06-3.15.2008) was All My Mistakes. It was raining, and we were confined to our fales. I typically limited myself to 3 songs a day to save the battery, and this was the last one for that day. I had a lot of time that day to think about things-- about how I "mistakenly" ended up in Samoa (not completing study abroad applications soon enough, not going to China, not really knowing much at all about Samoa, and the list goes on...) This is a video clip I took on that day, during that moment when I was in my fale listening to the Avett Brothers.

During those 5 minutes, I reflected on my bittersweet relationship with Samoa. Watching the rain pour down while hearing "I can't go back... I don't want to... Cause all my mistakes brought me to you"... well, that just turned me into an emotionalist.
_____________________________________________

The Weight of Lies- Avett Brothers
Lately, as I'm preparing for my next big adventure, this has been my favorite song. I know that I'm the kind of person who craves adventure, and sometimes this makes it difficult for me to create and maintain friendships. But it's also because of this that I value with my life the people who have seen me at my worst, know my flaws, and are still friends with me anyway.

I hope to be somebody who does a lotta movin', not just a lotta travelin'. I don't wanna be a tourist that just goes to a place to "love 'em then leave 'em". I want to stay somewhere long enough to see their flaws, and to expose my own ... I want to learn how to be an emotionalist.

Homecoming Weekend

2008-11-12T08:27:00.000-08:00

How am I supposed to pretend I never want to see you again?

My New Job(!)

2008-11-12T07:42:00.000-08:00

Is at a Wilderness Therapy Center for "at-risk" youth in the Uwharrie National Forest in North Carolina

Some pro's and con's that I see with this job... (most of these are copied and pasted from my initial application)

PROS:
1. Free room and board. Cause... hey! I'm sleeping outside in a tent. Initially, I wanted to stay at home and work in Dallas to save money, but I learned quickly that Dallas just isn't my kinda city. But this will be an excellent way to save money.

2. This job would allow my actions to fall in line with my beliefs, and to help me make a difference. I am passionate about reforming America's criminal justice system, and finding ways to transform rather than punish criminals. I certainly feel that one of the best ways to create change is to start with the transformation (not punishment) of at-risk youth.

3. It's perfect for my skill set/personality. I'm outdoorsy. I'm optimistic. I like dealing with mouthy kids.

4. It's outdoors! I think the best atmosphere for my own personal growth is in nature. It's hard to know what I'm capable of while dependent on superficial things (internet, air conditioning, etc).

5. The staff is really cool. You've gotta be cool to take on a job like this, right?

CONS:

1. Lack of personal space/time. I use "alone time" to re-charge my energy, and this is probably my biggest concern. As a former Head RA, I know what it's like to have a 24 hour job where emergencies can happen at any time. And I know what it's like to have what we call "clingers" (kids that don't ever want to leave your side). Especially having lived in Samoa, I know the feeling of having little-to-no privacy. It's because of these experiences that I know this will be my biggest challenge, but it is also because of these experiences that I know how to deal with this challenge.

Coping Strategy: Meditation, meditation, meditation. Each night I'll reflect on the day and the things I am grateful for (hoping that I'll have at least 15 minutes to myself before I fall asleep). This is really my coping strategy for almost any source of stress that comes my way. Also, asking for help from co-workers and being available for help is another big overarching stress-reliever.

2. I lived out of my comfort zone this last semester while in Samoa-- without electricity, television, telephone, flush-able toilets, or hot showers. But the hardest thing for me was being away from my friends and family.
Coping strategy: I think being able to contact them during my time off once a week will be more than enough. Also, I hope to make friends with the other staff members and use them for support. I imagine that anybody who would choose to take on a job of this nature would be somebody I'd get along with.

3. I worry that there may actually be kids that don't want to be there, or kids that just have negative attitudes altogether.
Coping strategy: I will do my best to stay positive with them and to try to highlight some of their best attributes (complimenting when they do things well). I also think my sense of humor is one of my best attributes when it comes to dealing with youth.

4. Cold weather. I've never lived that far north before (even though it's not that far).
Coping strategy: pack warm?

5. Huddle Ups. These are group discussions that are used to confront all sorts of problems and can be called by anyone. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for personal reflections, group conversations, and all those things... but I'm also a "less talk, more do" kind of person. I imagine that frequent "huddle-ups" would probably annoy me.
Coping strategy: I will be patient, but make sure that each huddle-up stays focused and on-task. I will also remind everybody of our options (we can stay out and talk until it gets dark and we don't have camp set up, or we can go set up camp now and talk later)
___________________________________________________

Most of these are things I had written before I visited. Here's an email I wrote to my brother after visiting :

"Before I left I told myself that no matter how bad it was, I'd take the job anyway if they offered it to me. But then there were a couple times while I was there that I just thought "there is no way I could handle doing this for a year". I came home thursday night and just broke down (no, really. I got locked out of the house and sat outside bawling for an hour before I could gather my thoughts enough to break in) As a whole the camp definitely had a very gloomy and negative energy to it-- like a vacuum. It pulled a lot of deep philosophical questions-- what is the purpose of putting "hazards to society" in institutions? What happens when several people with negative energy are concentrated in one place? Can any good ever come out of this kind of setting?

I could tell all the other counselors were really drained-- almost (if not all of them) had some sort of illness/injury related to the job. That's a fear of mine, in that it's not a very forgiving job if I were to get sick (there's so few counselors that I won't be able to just call in sick, and once you're sick you still have to sleep outside every night). But the camp itself is in a transitional period and they're trying to hire more people so I think things will get better.

As drained as I felt, there were several redeeming moments. There was one girl that just found out she hadn't passed the 8th grade, and she was in hysterics all day. I tried to help her find some source of optimism, but after talking to her (/her screaming at me and the other "chief") for a while, I learned that she really doesn't have a whole lot to work towards while she's at camp-- she's got a really shitty family and the only person who cares about her is her "grandmother"(her mom's boyfriend's step-mom), so even though she hates camp, she's not in any hurry to get home. Anyway, she had been screaming at me all day saying "you don't know me! how can you tell me my life isn't going to shit" etc... and just as we put a halt to the matter I began to believe her. But then as we were tucking them in at night, in between broken sobs she says "chief mandy... can you come here? i'm really sorry for being so mean to you today". Right up until that point, I was so looking for excuses to never come back. But something as small as that made all the difference for me.

To me, taking on this job can be likened to joining the army. Most people don't do it because that's what they like doing ... but because they see a job that needs to be done and are tired of waiting around for somebody else to take care of it. As much bitching as I do about the country... it's about time I start taking action into my own hands. Okay... and I don't know where this soap box came from or how I got on it... but I'm stepping down now....

Sorry this email turned into a novel. I get it from Dad."
_________________________________________________

That was written immediately after I got home and was truly drained, but in all fairness I was probably sleep deprived and just cranky. Anyway, right now I am very excited to start, and I will be driving out there towards the end of this month to start the next chapter !

ANTICIPATION

2008-11-03T21:21:00.000-08:00

So much to blog about... not enough time!

1. I'm leaving for North Carolina in 5 hours to check out a place where I want to work (and flying on their dime... blang!) It's a wilderness therapy program for "at-risk" youth in the middle of nowhere (as far as city life goes, but basically in the Uwharrie National Forest area). After a lotta NOT movin (which is a blog in itself soon to come) I might be starting on my next adventure!

2. OBAMA. It sounds so cliche to say "a change is gonna come".... but I believe this is the real deal... and even with our economic "tsunami"* ), I am more optimistic about the future of America than ever (not if Obama wins... when he wins:D)

I won't have access to the outside world for a couple of days. But tomorrow of all days. It really sucks that I won't be able to follow the elections, but maybe it's better for my blood pressure anyway.

*ohhh, greenspan... I could write an entire post on how wrong it is to call this a "tsunami" as though it couldn't be foreseen/ as though white-collar capitalists didn't have anything to do with it... ill save the rest of that rant for another post. I really shouldn't be blogging in the state I'm in. I am way too anxious and did I mention I leave in 5 hours?

The Ocean Breathes Salty

2008-10-24T10:10:00.000-07:00

I found this journal entry that never got published. It wasn't published mainly because I felt that it was incomplete. I still feel that it's incomplete... or that I can't completely articulate my thoughts . But it was the thought that stuck in my head the most while I was there.

4.2.08
The Ocean Breathes Salty

I could watch the ocean for hours. Especially here. I am fascinated by the unpredictable motions of water in the South Pacific. In one way or another, the water dictates every part of my life. I am surrounded by it. I mean this both figuratively and literally (it sounds really romantic and everything, but in reality it's the truth!) For example, if I have class, or a meeting/interview at a certain time, but it's raining, then I have no choice but to wait until the rain passes. My notebooks and all my papers are molding and disintegrating from rain damage. My hair is never dry. Neither are my clothes. It seems like everything I own has been overtaken by the South Pacific Sami.

And the sami has consumed my ipod. Life goes on, but I am having serious music withdrawals , and I plan on not eating lunch for a while so I can purchase a CD player when I go to American Samoa this Thursday. I'm thankful that my friends are willing to share their music with me though, even if it is Shayne Ward on full blast at 3 in the morning when I'm trying to sleep.

The hardest part is falling asleep at night. I realized I've been using my music to mask the noises of growling dogs... noises of barking geckos... (which for a while I thought were coming from the cockroaches)... children getting their daily sasa... flying bugs around my ears... screaming room-mates... Shayne Ward/Chris Brown... but maybe all this is showing me how American I am-- afraid of natural things that happen all around. I want consistency. I want a familiar tempo. I want to believe that when I sleep, the world around me sleeps too.

Before I came here, I always thought the ocean just fills in the space that land hasn't already created. I thought that land is fixed, and that the ocean just moves around it. But then after watching the movement of the water and seeing how it tosses and turns and crushes shells and rocks into tiny grains of sand, I'm beginning to see that the ocean defines the shape of the land just as much.

I'm starting to learn that life can be likened to the ocean-- it's unpredictable. It's inconsistent. And it can be disrupting if you try to remain in a fixed and undisturbed state. Learning how to let go and move with the ebb and flow of the sami is a gradual process, but it's one that I'm beginning to take on...

SAM-oa

2008-10-21T19:00:00.000-07:00

Sweet Wesley Willis... I just received 3 bangin' CDs from my friend Sam. And they actually went to Samoa (I saw the postal stamps), and then got forwarded to my address here. Only 6 months later...

I also forgot to mention that Sam gets extra points because he kept me in touch with my Texan heritage while I was abroad: see his blog.
I got to meet up with him, his girlfriend Allison, and his brother Mac at ACL, and I can't really remember the last time I've laughed so hard. Good kids.

CD1 (sam's faves): Broken Social Scene- Looks Just like the Sun. I listened to so much BSS (and by so much I mean 2 songs on repeat) back in Samoa. This song woulda topped the chart. (Honorable mention: Pants pants pants- Sensible Gangsta)

CD2 (music everyone loves): Spoon-Stay Don't Go. This one makes me my body involuntarily spasm in a way that it kinda turns into a funky dance. Those are my favorite kinds of songs.

CD3 (study tunage): Malaria Codes- Octopus Project (can't find a link) This is another song that just compels me to dance. It seems like that's really the only way I judge music nowadays.

Sam, as you may or may not be the only one reading this-- here's that clip I was trying to get you to watch:

The Ofa/Alofa/Aloha Spirit is Alive in Euless, TX

2008-10-21T09:19:00.000-07:00

High school football is big in Texas. I always expected to grow out of it, but now that I'm living back home, my favorite thing to do is to go to my alma mater's pep rallies and football games. And I don't even like football.

Lately, my high school has been getting tons of press coverage on the football team(not just local, but NPR, NY Times, Wall Street Journal, CBS, and BBC! *). And it's not because of the football. It's because of the Haka, and all that it symbolizes within this school:

I remember entering middle school and wondering why my friends' parents were transferring them to other districts. You'll get... shot/pregnant/into drugs/turn gay/dye your hair/in a gang... if you go to Trinity. That's what I heard. Our rival high school made T-shirts that say "I was going to go to Trinity, but then my dad got a job." And to be fair-- yeah, there were kids that went there who got pregnant/shot/into drugs/etc... but then there's... me. And I didn't join any gangs. The point of it is that there are people of all kinds in the world who may do things differently from you, but all you can do is build a community and show each other love anyway.

When I went there, I felt at home. I wrote several editorials for the school newspaper about how much I appreciated our diversity, which is kind of funny to me now because I had no idea how unique my high school was until after I graduated and left to go to a private liberal arts college (white-ville, USA). While I was there, I became aware of and sensitive to racial discrimination. There were so many kids that were adamant about ending racial discrimination, but it felt like we were all walking on eggshells all the time, which in reality I think segregated the community even more. This period in my life just left me depressed and hopeless about ending discrimination.

I came home right before I left for Samoa and went to a pep rally to watch my little brother in the drumline. Being back on campus and watching the kids interact brought back so many memories... and I got a little emotional. Looking around the gym, it seemed like there was so much potential for discrimination, and yet the sense of community there is indescribable. Here's a clip from the pep rally:

So now that I'm back home, I love to go to the games. I don't even like football, I just like the atmosphere. It's so cool for me to see the "Dallas mom" (with her big hair, excessive makeup, etc) get high-fived by the 75 year old Tongan grandmother every time Trinity scores a touch-down.

As I was leaving the pep rally last Friday, I saw mobs of kids congregating in a circle on the mall. In my day, this almost always meant a fight was breaking out. But as I got a better view, I realized that the times, they are a-changin'... :)

Before, I generally felt that racial tensions were heightening, and that any resolution was hopeless. That even on a national level, there are some things that are just irreparable. But this school is a prime example that a little bit of ofa / alofa / aloha can go a long way.

* Here's some news clips- I've said what the haka means to me (as a Euless "insider"/Trinity alum/white girl), but several of these clips illustrate what it has done for the city of Euless/Polynesian families/Trinity HS.
NPR
bbc clip
NY Times
CBS

Random story?

2008-10-08T16:44:00.000-07:00

I've spent most of my time daydreaming about Samoa since I've been back, and last night I got this wicked craving for some pagi popo (Samoan dish- coconut bread) after I watched an episode of "Bizarre Foods" on the Travel Channel.

So I whipped some up.

This morning I got up, half-awake wandered into the kitchen, and just as I got there my mom breezed past me with with a plate of the pani popo yelling behind her "I've made a new friend for you!"

Still half-asleep, still confused, I take out my retainer, pat down my hair, and follow her into the living room to find an unmistakably Polynesian man eating the pani popo.
"Talofa lava," he said. I tried to carry on with him in Samoan, but then realized he was Tongan. I felt stupid, but I had just woken up, alright? Anyway, after we talked for a while about our experiences eating pig, who's nicer between Samoans and Tongans, and other various topics, we reached the conclusion that I need to go stay with his Mom in Tonga.

So I guess he was next door at the neighbor's house... and my mom saw him and invited him over? I'm still confused. Inviting a total stranger into your house to feed and then introduce to your daughter- makes me think my mom might be more culturally Samoan than I am.

ACL recap from someone who isn't paid for their opinions but dishes them out anyway

2008-10-01T20:54:00.000-07:00

Last weekend I went to what might be my final ACL fest. I've been every year since the very first one (minus last year), but they're just getting more and more congested with people, and I just don't do crowds. It's hard to get lost in your favorite song when you've got people yelling over the music, when you're staving off a case of the black lung from all the dust, and all of Zilker Park is essentially a big fat sweaty mosh pit.

With that said, here are some ACL highlights:
What Made Milwaukee Famous.

Friday I went with my friend Astrid (from Germany) and it was her first ACL fest, and this was the first show we saw. Since it was in the middle of the day, we basically walked to the front and watched the show with plenty of standing room. It was a pretty awesome show too-- the lead singer's got some pipes! And later we even met the drummer and guitarist.
Sultan- What Made Milwaukee Famous

Vampire Weekend.

They're just adorable. I think they're like the Jonas Brothers for grown-ups.
Campus- Vampire Weekend

Gogol Bordello.

They blew the metaphorical roof off of Zilker Park. Everybody likes to dance to gypsy music and that's fact.
Start Wearing Purple- Gogol Bordello

Erykah Badu.

Okay, so I had forgotten about Erykah for a while, and was expecting to just enjoy her music if only for nostalgic purposes. But Daaaayuhn! I mean, she was pregnant... and she was on FIRE!
Tyrone- Erykah Badu

Abigail Washburn and the Sparrow Quartet ft. Bela Fleck.

Okay, so when I say all this, I really mean a highlight was Ben Sollee (3rd from the Left). I was so disappointed when I didn't see his name (as a solo artist) on the lineup, but then when I went to this show and saw that he was a part of this awesome quartet, I nearly dropped a load. Plus I got to meet him later, which was another highlight!

A Change is Gonna Come - Ben Sollee

Mason Jennings.

I mean, yeah he's one of my favorite music artists, period. But it was also a really good show.

Plus, I have always wanted to be in a crowd of people singing and dancing to "I love you (and Buddha, too)"

The funny thing about that song is that it reminds me of the "Charismatic" Church (think, the Pentecostal church in Borat) I went to when I was a young'n. And we'd sing and dance and all that jazz. But I have since been turned off by that kind of church because of its exclusive beliefs and other reasons. This song sort of helps me reconnect with my severed past... in a really cool way. Maybe I should just stop talking and you should just listen to the song... maybe you'll see what I mean.
I love you (and Buddha, too)-Mason Jennings

On living at home...

2008-10-01T20:50:00.000-07:00

"As a general rule, we detest what resembles ourself, and our own faults when observed in another person infuriate us....It is because the similarity is too great that, in spite of family affection, and sometimes all the more the greater the affection is, families are divided." - Marcel Proust, The Captive.

Yeah.

Year of the Rat

2008-09-05T22:07:00.000-07:00

Just as a heads-up, at 1 am on a Friday night I might not be in the best state to write. But here it is, nonetheless.

I don't consider myself to be a superstitious person... BUT... okay, yes I am and I secretly believe in a lot of silly unfounded things. Secret's out. In my previous post, I referenced that this is the " year of the Rat". In the Chinese Zodiac, the story goes that the emperor at the time held a race among 12 animals, and the order of the race determines which year that animal is associated with. My animal, the water buffalo let the rat and the cat hitch a ride on its back across a river. The rat knocks the cat into the water, and just as the buffalo is about to cross the finish line, the rat leaps off its nose and finishes first. So in short, the year of the rat is associated with schemers and "rat races" while all "water buffaloes" will come far and then fall short in the end.

Anyway, things just haven't been going my way lately. First, after getting strung along by Survivor and signing contracts that essentially sold my soul to CBS, I got cut. And this has been really hard-- just because in a job/school search if you get rejected it's usually because of a lack in qualifications or something like that... but being rejected from something like this is more like getting dumped from a romantic relationship-- they didn't want me because there's something inherent in my personality that they didn't like. The whole audition process forced me to think SO much about who I am and how I could be "type-cast", and just be very conscious of who I am. Now I'm just feeling really insecure.

So then I start to move on and I get more serious about my job hunt (Disc Jockeying on the weekends just hasn't been bringing home enough bacon for me to move out of my Mom's house). I find a job opening at an outdoor wilderness program for troubled teens as a Wilderness Field Instructor. I started getting really excited about this and was even talking about going out to train for the entirety of the following week... that is until I received an email saying I hadn't graduated yet (this was about 3 days ago). I've been in hysterics... especially since I sent several emails to the registrar while I was in Samoa to make sure that I was on track to graduate on time, and they told me I was. Apparently, I just lack 2 hours of upper-level electives, and my Samoan language course counted as a lower-level elective so it didn't transfer in (but they had my course list when they told me I was good to graduate! they should have known! GRR).

Okay... so to bring things to a full circle... I started to realize how negative my thoughts have been lately. I'm just depressed. In my head, I've said "just when I think things can't get much worse, they do". The funny thing is, the last time I literally said this was in 1996. I don't know why I'll always remember that year... but any time I hear one of Fiona Apple's song from the album "Tidal" (which came out that year) all these bad memories re-emerge. I was looking back at an old journal, and I had written I feel like I'm living the life of Job*... like just when I think things are as bad as they could possibly be, they get worse. And just tonight it occurred to me that 1996 was a rat year, just like this year is.

This is the year where the water buffaloes (my animal) will come SO close to the finish line -- and then fall short (almost being cast for survivor and getting cut/ being 2 hours of upper-level electives away from graduating). The funny thing is, the things that happened in 1996 were probably more sob-worthy than the petty things I'm worried about this year, and I made it out ok. 1997 was much better. And so 2009 will be.

At least, according to Badly Drawn Boy, it will be...

*Point of clarification... I was a religious kid growing up. Job was my favorite book. Depressing?

My Survivor Audition: a Video!

2008-09-05T22:00:00.000-07:00

So I deleted this post before because I signed all this stuff on Survivor saying that I wouldn't post or leak any information to anyone that I was a potential contestant. But now, that is not the case. I may post more on the casting process later...

I joked about trying to get on Survivor... but now I think, why not?

I thought it would be easy to get on the show...
A) How many people would want to be stranded at a remote and desert location?
B) The show is in its 16th season... how many people still watch it?

But apparently, the show still has a cult following... and CBS still receives truckloads and truckloads of audition tapes. And here is mine

Other reasons why I should be on survivor:
1) All my friends back at USP in Samoa are from all over the south pacific (Tonga, Fiji, Solomons, Vanuatu), are extremely knowledgeable about agriculture and their land, and could give me a crash course on local vegetation (what's okay to eat/what's not)
2) It's the year of the rat! Therefore, it's a good time for me to participate in a rat-race.
3) Cause I don't have a job.

For the Record: In the Chinese Zodiac, I am an Ox. The Chinese Zodiac tells a story of 12 animals trying to cross a river. The Rat is the first to cross, but only because it jumps on the back of the ox for a ride. Foreshadowing? I hope not.

Vacationing with the Mantzels (and you thought Samoa had a culture to be studied)

2008-07-07T12:23:00.001-07:00

For all those who have been "sooOoOo jealous" that I got to study abroad in Samoa... and secretly (or openly) thought that I was on vacation for the past 4 months, now is the time for me to clarify what a "vacation" means to a Mantzel.

My dad is the kind of guy who will pour water into a milk carton with mere drops left in the bottom and then drink it just so no milk is wasted. He is the kind of guy who will barter with the cashier at Taco Cabana to try to trade in our unnecessary "kiddie toys" for an extra side of pinto beans.

When we travel, we're a cheap bunch. Some people might liken our style to a college road trip. We drive mainly at night to save gas during the day. We've piled 5 and a golden retriever into a Saturn. We usually go camping. First, because we like the outdoors, but second because it's cheaper. Our only beach vacation was when we went to Galveston because he had a college buddy that offered his sailboat to us for the weekend. I didn't think his buddy expected for us to sleep on it, but that's exactly what we did.

This time around, we decided to do our vacationing in Central Texas. We had our way with Enchanted Rock, Pedernales Falls, Hamilton Pool, Lake Travis, and the Guadalupe.
Family bonding @ Enchanted Rock

We wanted to go tubing in San Marcos, but as the price for a tube rental was a bit steep (7 bucks per), we rented one that we could all share and take turns on while the rest of us snorkeled around.

Initially, my dad thought he had a friend we could stay with in Austin, but when that fell through and not having enough tents to camp with, we were forced to get a hotel. That's right, a hotel. One room. Four full grown men + me. Luckily, I had prepared bedding so that I wouldn't be forced to share a bed with anyone. I can count on one hand (or even 3 fingers) how many times I saw the shower being used by someone other than myself over the course of the week. But in defense of my stinky brothers and dad, we were in water (lakes ponds rivers and rain) most of the time-- and that's good enough for a Mantzel. Maybe they weren't showering because they were too busy photoshopping our youngest brother's face onto gay pornography... or because there were just too many GI Joe PSA's to watch on youtube:

Either way, if it weren't for the quirks of my family, I wouldn't have much to blog about. As much as I complain about our unique traveling style, it should be obvious by now how much I love it all.

________________________________________________
Kum ba yah in the Comfort Inn Parking Lot...

What else do you do when your bumper keeps trying to fall off?

Here's Nick (the photographer) messing around with his camera in the dark while I'm driving

The photographed subject always reveals the photographer's opinion/bias towards subject...

This photo was completely unsynchronized... Nick has given himself breasts... Kyle uses the backlight of his cell phone to create an unrealistically large penis for himself... and yet because they are so predictable, I knew what they were up to

It ain't over yet...

2008-07-01T19:31:00.000-07:00

I'm back from Samoa, but I've decided I kind of like blogging. So I'm gonna continue updating this thang with my "adventures"... because we all know I can't hold still for too long...

Oh yeah... I DID interview the Prime Minister of Samoa

2008-06-16T20:21:00.000-07:00

So like I said, I was studying women in parliament in Samoa. There's roughly 48 MPs, and 4 are women. The PM included 3 in his 13 member cabinet... and I wanted to know why (were they just more qualified? is he trying to provide opportunities for women? etc...) I also wanted to talk to him on the subject generally...

I would post more on the controversial things he said, but then I might have to make this blog private.

The teacher line the girls from the finnes to da bickus

2008-06-11T21:35:00.000-07:00

Me before Samoa:
I don't care if it hurts.
I wanna have control.
I want a perfect body.
I want a perfect soul.

Ok, that's Radiohead. But also "me before Samoa". Obviously, a lot has changed...

(me in the Market on my last day in Samoa)
And here are two stories that caused such change:

Story #1:
Once when we were teaching at an elementary school in Lotofaga, we first observed the teacher and how he approached the lesson. The teacher was a young guy, maybe 25 years old from New Zealand (and he was single, according to the school principal's announcement to the eleven of us girls). He was teaching english superlatives, and began by saying "the teacher lined the boys from the smallest to the tallest" and then picked out 3 boys and lined them accordingly in front of the classroom. Then he'd have his students repeat
"The teacher lined the boys from the smallest to the tallest"
"AGAIN"
"THE TEACHER LINE(D) THE BOYS FROM THE SMALLEST TO THE TALLEST!"

"Alright then, have a seat" he said, as he scanned the rest of the classroom. Pointing to one small girl, she came up to stand in front of the seated classroom. Then he scanned over another girl, but when she stood up said "no" while gesturing to sit back down. Then glanced at another and raised his eyebrows. She stood and waited. He hesitated and said "yeah, okay." And finally his gaze went straight toward the biggest girl in the room and called her out by name to come up to the front.

He lined them accordingly...
"The teacher lined the girls from the finnes to the bickus"
The students echoed "The teacher line(d) the girls from the finnes to the bickus!"
"AGAIN"
"THE TEACHER LINE THE GIRLS FROM THE FINNES TO THE BICKUS!"

Story #2
When I was leaving my Lotofaga family, I was having a serious conversation with Siavea, the 24 year old that I had gotten closest to (mainly because his English was the best out of everyone's). It was just the two of us in the cooking fale with the rest of the family only yards away, and yet it was the most intimate moment we had (as mentioned, there isn't much privacy in Samoa). So we are talking, and he looks me in the eye and says "Mandy, I am really going to miss you. My family, they really like you. You make them laugh. You are always smiling. Your heart, it is good. You are a very kind person." Still staring deep into my eyes... into the depths of my soul... he says to me, " and you eat. A LOT. I mean, you eat EVERYTHING."

Commentary:
Going into Samoa, I had read bits and pieces and heard from many people that it was the respectful thing to do to accept anything that was offered to you... ESPECIALLY food. And that the more you eat of the family's food, the more respectful you are. Initially, the way I saw it was that if a guest were to restrain themselves from eating a lot of the host's food, it would almost be saying I don't think you have this kind of money or I refuse to eat what you eat.

Anyway, before I came to Samoa, one of my greatest fears was the thought that I'd put on weight. But after I lived there for a while, I noticed that putting on weight wasn't the end of the world. In fact, I even felt like people liked me more, and would even listen to what I had to say. And that felt good. I got to a point where I even had trouble trying to remember why I was so nervous about putting on weight in the first place. At that point, I thought, how many girls can have this experience... can put on weight and be loved all the more?

But I'm back home. And I am reminded why I was so worried about putting on weight...

Did you send me mail?

2008-06-11T15:24:00.000-07:00

As warned, the mail system is very unpredictable in the South Pacific.

"I'm fairly certain that the post office may have tried to use the pony express...which could be a problem because the pacific ocean is a long way for a horse to swim."
-a friend who tried to send mail

I received mail from Brian (who I forgot to mention before, and note that my favorite track from the CD was "Vapor" by Soulive), Lisa, Lauren, and a package with a fresh white shirt from my Dad and Step-mom. Again, you guys rule.

But then I had 2 friends who I know sent CDs, but I never received them. But they're still getting kickass souvenirs. Long story short, if you sent me anything and I didn't receive it, I appreciate the thought... so please send me your mailing address so I can give you a study-abroad-blog-party favor!

mandy.mantzel@gmail.com

Branded

2008-06-10T20:33:00.000-07:00

Out of respect for my parents, I decided to save this news until I got home. Who wants to find out their kid got a tattoo through a blog? Anyway, the rumors are true. That I'm home, and also that I got a tattoo.

Philosophy of the tattoo
I realize that it's not exactly culturally acceptable for girls to get tattoos in the States. I mean, it is... but I've known a number of guys who have said they would never date a girl with a tattoo... and a number of employers who would not hire someone with a visible tattoo. Almost as though "pure"/"untampered" skin... is preferred and praised...

Nevertheless (alwaysthemore), mine's out in the open for everyone to judge. And it's even crooked. So not only will the upper-class judge me for branding my "pure" body with something that symbolizes a marginal part of my life, but even the tattoo-elitists will look down on me because it's crooked!

To me, this tattoo does symbolize a part of my life that I don't want marginalized. My experience with the South Pacific was just a small period of my life as far as time goes, but I don't want the things I've learned to become just a part of the "me" I left in Samoa.

I like my tattoo. I like that it's visible. And visibly crooked. And I like telling the story around it.

Samoan Tattoo (Tatau) 411
Polynesians invented the Tattoo. "ta" means to strike something... hence the tapping noise when they give the tattoo. The traditional tattoo is given with razor-thin pieces of a boars tusk that are dipped in ink and then tapped into the skin of the recipient.

There's typically 4-6 people working at a time. In our situation, one person was giving the tattoo, one spreading out the skin, one wiping away the blood and excess ink, one was fanning away the flies. Traditionally, the design of the tattoo would be entirely up to the artist. As described of Queequeg's tattoos in Moby Dick,

"this tattooing had been the work of a departed prophet and seer of his island, who, by those hieroglyphic marks, had written out on his body a complete theory of the heavens and the earth, and a mystical treatise on the art of attaining truth; so that Queequeg in his own proper person was a riddle to unfold; a wondrous work in one volume; but whose mysteries not even himself could read" -Queequeg and his Coffin

The Story
After an hour-long car, ride, we finally pulled up to Sulu Ape's house. He is the best tattoo artist in all of Samoa, but as he was in American Samoa, we agreed to be tattooed by his son Peter. We entered the fale and talked for a while (not about the tattoos). Finally, we got to business, and Andrea went first. She got a big one on her outer thigh. Then was Michelle with one on her wrist... here's some footage:

(At the end he said "where you going?" to which I replied "faleuila" which literally translates to house of lightning but means the restroom.)

Then I had my turn. It's a fish. And if you ask me what it means, you probably won't get a straight-forward answer. First, because I don't know that I can even articulate it. Second, because I don't know that I'd want to.

And here's me playing it safe with my tattoo... you're supposed to keep from submerging tattoos in water immediately after getting them...

But who am I kidding, fish can't be out of water for too long...

After I had my tattoo done, I felt like a new person. I really do meditate on it everyday, and will continue to.

Interesting note: in "A Bower in the Arsacides", Ishmael has the dimensions of a whale tattooed to his arm...

What the white whale was to Ahab, has been hinted; what, at times, he was to me, as yet remains unsaid...- The Whiteness of the Whale

Paradise Lost

2008-05-31T17:54:00.000-07:00

If the trend hasn't become apparent already, I should apologize for the in-cohesiveness of my posts. Timed internet cafes aren't conducive to good bloggin'.

During the time when I was busy writing my ISP, I couldn't wait to come home. These are the things I was looking forward to in the States:
-hot showers
-clean clothes
-hairdryers
-High-speed internet
-my car/being able to go wherever I want whenever I want
-LOST/ Soyouthinkyoucandance?
-celery, apples, healthy stuff and vegan alternatives
- queso and chocolate chip cookies (forget the contradiction... let me have what I want)
- used bookstores
- NPR
the list goes on... all superficial things, really.

The things I was ready to get away from:
-standing out everywhere I go because I'm white
- my housemates screaming/singing/blasting their music at all hours of the night
-the HEAT/insects

As much as I was looking forward to going home, I was on an emotional rollercoaster during the days leading up to my departure. I would be riding down the road through the mountains and just break into tears for no reason other than that I realized I might not ever be able to come back. And because the scenery really is breathtaking. And also thinking about all the people I've gotten close to...

Now that I'm back in Hawaii (which is somewhat of a cultural mid-way point between living in the Mainland America and living in Samoa) it's becoming clear to me the things I will miss most from Samoa.

1) The "smiling game". I loved just smiling at people... as weird as that sounds it really became addictive. Smiles really are contageous!

2) The busses and the market-- being able to touch someone in passing without them getting offended-- whether it's sitting in a stranger's lap or bumping into someone.

3) The scantily clad men and those tiny little rugby shorts. It really seems like gender roles were reversed-- in that the men were objectified based on their physique.

4) Being able to put on weight and still have people respect you for who you are.

5) Sunni dance parties-- or in general being able to sing/dance at any time/any place without question

6) Being able to laugh at things... not having to be politically correct all the time.

7) Hanging out in the office with my au palangi *

8) Tip Top ice cream. Ice cream is always better when you have to down it within 2 minutes or it will end up all over your already-dirty clothes.

9) The USP students and the friends I made there. By far one of the hardest things to leave...

These lists (as always) are non-exhaustive. There's just too much to say...

*team white people (/ study abroad group)

posting from a cell phone in hawaii just to say im alive

2008-05-30T00:34:00.000-07:00

Can I graduate?

2008-05-20T16:51:00.000-07:00

Last weekend if I were in school at Southwestern, I would have been walking the stage at graduation.

But I'm here, instead. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that I came here at this time (if the other alternative was not studying abroad at all). But don't think I'm not suffering the consequences.

Being abroad has disoriented (but sometimes reoriented) my views and goals in so many ways. It really is "soooo life changing". But for most of my friends who have done this, they have at least gone back to something familiar-- the routine of going to college classes, living in a college town-- some sort of forced re-assimilation. As for me, I really have no idea what I'm getting myself into when I come back. The opportunities are frighteningly endless. I could go through with my tentative plan before I came here:

1) get a temporary job (not picky... just get some source of income... but preferably one with health benefits!)
2) find a place to live
a. stay at home and save money
b. Move to California and go broke, but establish residency in case I decide to do grad
school there (depending on the kind of job I can land/amount of income)
3) do a little more research on grad schools/potential advisors/ decide between doing Asia Pacific relations or Political Theory
a. UCSD?
b. UT?
c. UC Davis?
d. some awesome school I hadn't even heard of before?

Sure, these are things that most Seniors have figured out. But I'm not in any rush. Anyway, that was just a little tidbit for those who want to know where my life might be headed when I get back. But don't be surprised if I...
a) throw in the towel and get a job working for The Man.
b) audition for Survivor... or try to get some program to make me the next "Survivorgirl" or "Woman versus Wild" I mean, I've gotta make use of these skills, right?

Unabashed name-dropping

2008-05-16T02:38:00.000-07:00

I don't mean to toot my own horn... but *BEEP BEEP!!!* After pulling a few strings, writing a few letters, flirting with a few security guards, barging into a few offices, and well... just being downright lucky... I've snagged an interview with the Prime Minister of Samoa tomorrow at 2 pm.

Booyah, grandma.

For Caitlin, with Love and Squalor

2008-05-15T02:18:00.000-07:00

Rat-tail hunting.

Flickr Slideshowgreat free widgetsWidgetbox

Suni and Share

2008-05-08T01:56:00.001-07:00

P4250176_2, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

These are 3 of the 6 Suni boys (Suni is the name of their house). These guys are all from Fiji. Juicy tidbits to share from L to R: Simone is dating one of the girls in our group. Sio is 27 and has a kid, and is the responsible, fatherly, cook-for-you kinda guy. And Praneet is just adorable. He taught me how to bake a cake using only a hot plate.

And this is what we do when we're bored.

Crabbers

2008-05-05T22:54:00.001-07:00

P4021276, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Please note that this is me getting really dressed up to hit the clubs! And they find yellow rubber flip flops perfectly acceptable! Anyway, Crabbers is the place in town where everyone tells us not to go. And we go anyways, and we dance, and we sweat, and we have a great time (usually).

But last Saturday, a fight broke out at Crabbers and a guy was taken to the hospital where he died.

I guess I won't be going back to Crabbers anytime soon...

No flip flops allowed

2008-05-05T22:49:00.001-07:00

P4170053, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

In Fiji, our group wanted to go out with the SIT group from Fiji, but we were told that we'd be rejected from the clubs in flip flops (which are, unfortunately, all I have with me). But there's nothing a torn lavalava won't fix!

Queen of the Macarena

2008-05-01T01:33:00.001-07:00

DSCF0436, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

If pictures are worth 1000 words...

Woop woop! We have a winner!!

2008-04-29T18:00:00.002-07:00

I just received CDs from two people who decided to take me up on "the offer you cannot refuse", and they've made my week. Lauren and Lisa take the grand prize!! You guys have no idea how happy I was to receive those... and how jealous I made all the other SIT kids in my group (BOOOHAHAHA)

Favorite Tracks...
From Lisa's: "Herbs, Good Hygiene, and Socks" -Lovage
From Lauren's: "Quit Playing Games" - Backstreet Boys (And no. I'm not afraid to admit it!)

Thank you guys again! And anyone else who hasn't done so yet, get on it!

Let's say, if I can get 10 CDs, I will post pictures of my armpits when they're in more of a "Zoolander"phase than "Don King".

(I also hope that by this point my professors/former employers/important people either have a good sense of humor, or have stopped reading my increasingly vulgar blog altogether)

Rat-tails and Mullets

2008-04-27T22:02:00.001-07:00

P4190107, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

My new favorite activity is to make Meredith go stand near someone with a killer mullet/rat-tail. This way, it looks like I'm posing her for her own photo so I don't look like a snob from the states who thinks its funny to take pictures of rat-tails and mullets (even though that's exactly what I am).

I have enough photos I could almost make a slide-show.

Reflections from the girls ocean

2008-04-23T00:46:00.000-07:00

Before I came to Samoa, I came upon a former Independent Study Project that inspired my studies here. The girl wrote a series of pieces that were meant to be performed orally and narrated through the eyes of a Samoan girl. This one was my favorite. I think she articulates exactly how I feel about Samoa and my interests here.

THE OCEAN by Shannon Sonenstein

In school we learned that most of the earth’s surface is made up of water. It’s funny to think of it that way because all Mr. Smith, my teacher, the pisikoa (peace corps), ever talks about, focuses on, is the land. I’ve heard the human body is like that too.

Even though I can’t see it, can’t imagine it, I’m mostly water.
Fluid.
Flowing.
Liquid and changing rather than confined to a solid.
Mold.
Role.
Form. As I’ve been trained to think.

Do you know what else I learned today? There are more women on earth than men. I told that to my sister and she laughed at me. She asked, “If there are more women, then why do we only learn about men — what they do? what they think?” And I tried to tell her that women must be like the ocean.

Deep.

Unexplored.

Fluid.

And it would make sense then that the body’s mostly water because that’s where we come from. When I think of my sisters, I think of water. Of nighttime. After supper when we gather under the pipe in the yard and bathe together. All of us sleek and shiny with water. Lavalavas clinging, scrubbing our underpants together. Sharing the water and blowing soap bubbles. Helping each other wash our long, long hair. Surrounded always by water.

That’s how I think of Samoa too. Of being nourished, washed, wiped clean by the ocean. Kissed on all sides by her waves. Protected from the rest of the world. Safe in the ocean’s womb. That’s how I feel after school when all of us girls run to the beach to cool down in our sami, our sea.
Safe.
Protected.
Rocked.
Calmed.
And surrounded . . . by my sisters.

Indigenous Fijian Music: Video!

2008-04-21T23:11:00.000-07:00

Here's a video of some contemporary indigenous Fijian music. Those are flip-flops they're using to play the panpipes.

American Samoa (in a nutshell)

2008-04-19T19:54:00.000-07:00

My study-abroad program is actually considered to be a "Pacific Islands Studies" rather than just Samoa, so I have been island hopping a bit to American Samoa and to Fiji.

In American Samoa, the first thing I noticed was how many obese people there are. There's McDonalds, KFC, Pizza Hut and all the things we now see as mistakes in the States. My host family served me spam, fried egg, and mayonaise sandwiches. They have an abundance of resources as far as crops go and the Starkist tuna cannery is in Pago Pago, but they don't really tend to their crops like they do in (Western/Independent) Samoa and the fish that they catch are canned and shipped to America. I never had fresh tuna... only canned! Isn't sat vierd?

I also felt as though perhaps the people (specifically the girls) weren't as confident there. My host in American Samoa kept telling me she was trying not to eat so that she could be thinner. In (Ind.) Samoa, the big girls are like "yeah I'm fat! look at all this food I can afford to eat!"

The pollution was also a bit disheartening. In Samoa, they don't really have a very effective waste management system. When I'd help out around the house and pick up the rubbish, they'd have me dump it off the cliff into the ocean (or to roll down to their neighbor's yard). But I was picking up leaves, peels, and other decomposable things (they have plastic bags that are made of starch and decompose after 60 days). Vailima is a Samoan beer, and the only beer anyone drinks here, so the bottles are just rinsed and re-used. On the other hand, American Samoa is a US territory, and therefore has all kinds of US things imported. Packaged things with individual wrappers. Wrappers that don't decompose so readily. What a circus.

I was talking with some of the girls who were poli-sci majors at American Samoa Community College about women in politics (or lack thereof, in American Samoa's case), and in the course of our conversation, I thought it was interesting when one said she thought that most women aren't running for political office because they aren't taught that women can do the job, but that if Hillary were to win the elections in America, then perhaps that would set an example for women in American Samoa.

American Samoa also felt much less communal. On my first day of classes there, I was THREE HOURS LATE because no busses would stop. Apparently, this was because they were all full, but I was so confused because there is no such thing as a "full bus" in (independent) Samoa. Later that day, I learned (through an awkward trial and error) that "stacking" (sitting on another's lap) was inappropriate. Bah Humbug.

List of blunt points #3

2008-04-11T00:33:00.000-07:00

1). I thought my waterbottle had a dent in it (it looked like a windshield that had been hit with a pebble) and continued to drink out of it for a few weeks. As the "dent" grew and got greener, I learned that I had been drinking the algae that was growing on the inside of my waterbottle.

2). I re-opened my already-infected hand when I fell in a pool of standing water. Did I mention that in a previous semester, they sent a girl home half-way through the course because she developed an infection that became resistant to anti-biotics?

3). Contrary to popular belief, I haven't surfed once. More on that later?

4). I've been using a sock turned inside-out as a wash-cloth since I got here... and I certainly won't elaborate on what that sock looks like now.

5). My armpits look like I've got Don King in a headlock.

The (inhabited) island without cars

2008-04-10T00:49:00.001-07:00

mo
P3211127, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

A few of us went to go stay on a neighboring island via this boat. The ride wasn't too bad, and my stomach has become pretty strong on the water since I've been here.

In Manono there are no cars, and only one real "road" circling the island which can be as narrow as a footprint at times. The villages there were very traditional, and we were confined to our rooms on good friday:( But on Saturday, we circled the island by foot.

A Samoan Mr. Miyagi.

2008-04-10T00:33:00.001-07:00

Picture 577, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Silao could be one of the coolest teachers ever. He's very reserved and calm, but when he speaks it's either profound or absolutely ridiculous. I will post videos later...

cool AND unusual

2008-04-10T00:27:00.001-07:00

Picture 639s, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Oh, the busses in Samoa. This one's nicer cause it's charter, but it still captures the essence.

Here's a list of some phrases seen on the front of these busses:
"Loose Kids"
"Legalize it"
"Sa Piling Mo" (the title of a popular show from the Phillipines)
"Island boys"
"Ill-da-noiz"

"I'll be back"
... and I'm at a loss for others. But they're good, ok?

And my favorite has been the bus with a huge blown up pic of Tupac in the front, and on each side is a smaller pic of Jesus.

Cat-calling at cute boys

2008-04-10T00:17:00.001-07:00

gi
P4061374, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Last weekend when I visited American Samoa, the girls I stayed with taught me how to cat-call. I was in culture shock as we were driving around in a rented pickup on a Sunday. First, because they had their own personal car. Second, because we were outside of their palagi-style air-conditioned house on a SUNDAY. But for girls to be cat-calling at boys (and not the opposite) did seem very Samoan to me.

Just when I thought I was comfortable speaking Samoan, I come to this place and find out that the youth have a language all their own. It's like a mix of English and Samoan... and yet I didn't understand it at all. "Dob-Dob Che-maaa!" is what you yell at a cute boy. Their favorite game was to make me yell it at anything with XY chromosomes within a mile radius.

They took me to the McDonalds there and when we were finished I wanted to say "I have a food baby, and my baby daddy is Ronald McDonald" in Samoan (Ua ko ma le mea'ai, ma le tama o lo'u pepe o Ronald McDonald)

I was worried it wouldn't translate, but whatever I said sure was funny.

Puppies!

2008-04-09T23:49:00.001-07:00

Picture 328, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

One of the most difficult adjustments I've had to make here has been the handling of dogs here. There's very few registered vets in Samoa, much less clinics, so dogs aren't spayed or neutered. Where's Bob Barker when you need him? They're a lot more aggressive and are notorious for attacking people. At the same time, the people are brutal towards the dogs. It's a vicious cycle. One of the first things I was told when I got here was that if I saw a dog approaching me, I should throw a rock at it as hard as I could, "it's even better if you kill the thing!". It has been rumored that some villages eat dogs. You'd better believe that shook my wannabe-vegan-bones.

H'okay. So as most of you know, my dogs mean the world to me. They are my best friends. When I'm home I spend almost all of my time with them, and when I'm away I spend all my time talking about them. So this has been a real conflict for me.

This picture was taken at my homestay in Lotofaga. One of the strays had a litter of puppies outside our house. When I would go and play with them, my family thought I was CRAZY. Initially, I kept a demeanor that said I was a happy always-friendly, never-angry palagi. But the first time I saw one of the little boys pin the puppy's tail to the ground and then kick her, all hell broke loose. I went off on him in English, and then Samoan. And if that didn't work, I used gestures to indicate exactly what I would do to him the next time I caught him hurting any of the puppies.

A pig getting stuffed: explicit content

2008-04-09T20:43:00.001-07:00

P3301220, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Sorry for the blunt and un-creative heading. I thought it would be courteous to people like my mother. I've been here for a while now, and I've seen many pigs killed, and I suppose that now is the time that I've been de-sensitized enough to not only take a picture of this, but to post it on the internet.

A lot of things have changed for me since I've been here.

From living here, I think my biggest shift in beliefs has been in my own conception of death and how much control I really have over my own life and the world around me. In Samoa, it doesn't seem like people avoid or fear death like we do in the States. When someone dies, the family lay touching that person... even sleeping with them. And then they bury their family members in their front yard with these HUGE and elaborate tombs. And years later the family members lay on them while they're gossiping about the neighbors. Or they lay on them and think about their deceased family member. Either way, it seems like the deceased are always remembered in daily activities.

At this point, this post looks like a huge digression. But in reality, it's these thoughts that help me make sense of the food chain and my own place in this great big world.

In the words of William Shatner,
"Life life! Live life like you're gonna die!! ... Cause you're gonna..."

An offer you cannot refuse

2008-04-02T01:26:00.000-07:00

I am having SERIOUS music withdrawals. The computers here won't play mp3s, so I will travel to American Samoa this Thursday where I'll probably purchase a CD player. Right now I have a single CD (from Ron Artis's family band in Hawaii) that can hold me for a little while, but I'd really like some fresh tunes.

So here's my plea to you (yes, you! the person who visits my blog but probably never comments!):
If you send me a mixed CD, I will mail you a souvenir (or hand it to you, depending on our geographic distance) as soon as I return.

Mandy Mantzel c/o S.I.T.
P.O. Box 9268
Apia, Samoa (Western Samoa)
South Pacific

I probably won't be able to receive any packages, but if you slip the CD into an envelope and mail that way, I'll get it sooner.

I would be thrilled to hear any music that you like, or things that you've been listening to.

But if you're at an absolute loss for things to put on the CD and/or you have a free music downloading service, here's some songs that I happen to like:

Puh-puh-puhleaze?

String Band at Safua: A Video!

2008-03-27T01:43:00.000-07:00

Okay. This took me all evening to upload, so that should indicate a) how cool this is to me, or b)how much I really don't want to be writing a paper in Samoan.

This is one of my favorite songs that they played, and if you will look closely, the percussion is a set of spoons, and better yet, the bass is nothing more than a string tied to a bucket and a stick. Watch the bassist move the stick back and forth to tune the string and make different pitches. Amazing. And you better believe we danced all night. And you better believe that the bass player is an excellent prospect for my Samoan husband. His little brother told me I look like a chubby version of Fergie. We're meant to be.

The Accident

2008-03-27T00:55:00.001-07:00

P3150860, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

This trip has helped me realize how living in America in an "advanced civilization" has dumbed down my own common sense. Everywhere we go, we've got signs to warn us of things that we should be able to see on our own. "Caution! Hot Coffee" or "Floor slippery when wet". Well DUH. But I feel like some of these signs I've come to rely on. Sketchy deteriorating buildings are blocked off so people won't wander into them. If it's not blocked off and there's not a sign, then I assume it's fair game.

So on this day, we went to go swim with some turtles. We saw a fale (reminder: it's like a hut over water) that was empty to put our things, so we crossed a teetering log to enter it. I remember someone saying "guys, is this thing safe?" to which another responded "of course, it's no different from any other fale we've been in". And the next thing I hear is "oh... *dirty word*" and I felt the fale shift a bit, and initially I tried to hold still, but when I felt that it was coming down either way, and as I realized that if it collapsed on top of me I'd be trapped underwater (it was just shallow enough for the roof to sink just below the surface) so I tried to jump onto the dock just as it crashed.

I still think it was by sheer luck that we all made it out okay. The way that the fale crashed, it angled just so that a corner of the roof caught on a post of the dock. Had it not caught, I would have been split in half somewhere around my midsection. Half of my body was on the dock, the other half still on the floor of the fale. There was a split second where I just blanked out, and talking to my friends in the accident, they all had a few seconds they couldn't remember. The next thing I heard was "is everyone out? Is everyone okay?" from meredith, who had a huge gash on her head just behind her ear. We got everyone out, and then bags. Everyone had a nasty gash of some sort on their back, head, neck, etc. I only ended up with one on my arm and on my hand (although wounds in the pacific are nasty... and my hand is officially infected). But thinking about what COULD have happened if the fale leaned a hair in any other direction astounds me. We really were lucky. Cameras, ipods, watches, and other important things drowned, but we walked from it. Which still baffles my brain.

So, back to my point. This was one of those moments where my "adventurousness" and my naivety had a face-off. Samoans probably think we're really dumb Americans without any common sense, because looking back, we really had no business climbing into that fale. Now when I go somewhere, like climbing mountains or jumping from waterfalls, I don't just assume that it's safe because there's no sign to stop me.

Would you want to come home?

2008-03-27T00:35:00.001-07:00

P3140830, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

I love Savai'i. Everyone wants me to come back and bring my friends and family! So start saving your tupe, and let's plan a reunion.

Fale sweet fale

2008-03-27T00:32:00.001-07:00

P3150840, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

These are traditional open fales, but we just had the mats pulled down because it stormed the night before. But yeah... not a bad view eh?

This one's for the parents

2008-03-27T00:29:00.001-07:00

a
P3231184, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Look at me! I'm at church!! On Easter!!

Goooood Morning Samoa!

2008-03-27T00:24:00.001-07:00

P3090814edit, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Siapo making!

2008-03-27T00:13:00.001-07:00

P3191044, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Tapa making is a PROCESS. First, you tear the bark from a tree. Then you cut and peel the brown part off of it. Then you roll it so it flattens. Then you scrape it with a seashell to get rid of residue. Then you soak it. Then you scrape some more, and pound it to flatten it/widen it. Then you set it out to dry under some rocks so it doesn't shrink.

Then you put it over one of these patterns (also pre-carved by Fa'amuli) and wet it with water. Then you grind red clay against seashells. Spread it with a "paintbrush" made of more treebark. Dry it under rocks again.

Then you take the dye from the tree bark (which I did NOT make... Fa'amuli had pre-made that for us). and color in however you like. You'll have to wait to see my final product when I get home..

He was only 15

2008-03-27T00:06:00.001-07:00

P3201110, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

And he was the only one with a girlfriend. What a heartbreaker.

The Peanut Gallery

2008-03-27T00:04:00.001-07:00

P3241188, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Better known as SIT Samoa Spring 08. This is my study abroad group in a nutshell.

Left to Right:
Jessica "Sita" is reading.
Rachel "Lasela" is dancing.
Michelle "Misa" is also dancing, and it's just funny because she seems to be more shy and yet the Samoans love to oil her up or pull her out in front of crowds to dance for everyone.

Meredith "Mele" is flying. She drew the picture so she gets the cool skills.
I'm underneath her. O igoa Samoa o "Meni". I'm in the ocean. Shocker, right?
Chris "Kilisi" is the token boy doing god-knows-what in the fale. Just kidding guys, he's doing hip stretches.
Laura "Lola", Andrea "Lea", Allie "Sona", and Anna "Ana" are all thinking about Hot Boys with rat-tails and mullets. But let's face it, we're in Samoa, so who isn't?
And then Kathy "Kati" and Taylor "Teila" are riding the bus while Teila in particular has made a "friend". She may or may not have been molested on her first bus ride.

And then we have our puppet-master Sieki who is pulling all of our strings. Silao is smokin, drinkin, and just doesn't give a rats.

To be or not to be? ... as though Hamlet had a choice

2008-03-25T23:24:00.000-07:00

I had just written a super-long post that probably over-exposed my views on death since I've been in Samoa. But being on these unreliable computers, it was deleted.
It was probably for the better, as it was probably too dark and emo for parents and parents' friends and people who might still be under the impression that I'm normal and people I might run into at cocktail parties in the future...

So here's the (somewhat) abbreviated version:

-I was a "flexible vegan" before this trip
-I wanted to be culturally sensitive and live like Samoans do
-Samoans like meat
-I tell a long story about the first time I saw a pig get killed in Samoa
-Several more pigs get killed
-I am coping with "survival" tactics
-Everything I thought I valued is getting tossed around
-I am now an excellent spear-fisher
-And yet through it all... I still cry uncontrollably whenever I see or hear a pig getting killed...

Dance, Palagi! DANCE!!

2008-03-14T01:31:00.000-07:00

Our last night in Lotofaga, our families take pride in dressing us up and throwing us in front of their friends to dance. I love to dance, but I was totally taken by surprise with the scandalous dress they gave me. They even oiled down one of my friends. Samoans mean business when it comes to dancing at Fiafias.

Another list of blunt points I'd like to make without explanation

2008-03-12T01:06:00.001-07:00

1. I don't even flinch anymore when I see a 3 year old girl carrying a machete to school

2. I started watching my clothes more closely while they were drying on a clothesline when I caught Dad (who is at least 200 lbs heavier than me) wearing my shirt

3. Every conversation starts with "Do you like Samoa? Are you married? If you like it so much, you know you need to marry a Samoan to stay here. Would you like to marry my son?"

4. Whatever I have for lunch is usually whatever someone left on their plate the night before

5. The political issue that's caused the most heat is that they're considering switching the side of the road that people drive on from the right to the left. Seriously.

6. "I'm surprised more children don't die around here" A quote from one of my friends in the program, and I couldn't have said it better myself.

7. I haphazardly became best friends with the owner of the Salani Surf resort. How convenient! Bet you didn't see that one coming... ;) Perhaps I'll post more on that later...

The day we went to teach class in a primary school

2008-03-12T00:27:00.000-07:00

We had all finished our lessons for the day. This is a video of my friend's 6th grade class. She said "just walk into that room with a camera and watch what happens". Now you can watch too.

I had an 8th grade class (the oldest group we could have), and I chose to talk about emotions. As silly as that sounds, it's a concept that they don't really deal with like we do in America. And it's a complicated one, at that. Like I've mentioned before, with the suicide rates going through the roof here and teenage years being an emotional rollercoaster, this seemed like an appropriate time to talk about emotions.

I said to the class "Fanoanoa. Fanoanoa means sad. Can anyone tell me something that makes them sad?" Dead silence. So I moved on. "Fiafia. Fiafia means happy. Can any one tell me something that makes you happy?" Still, dead silence. Frustrated, I moved on and said "ITA. ITA means ANGRY. Can ANYONE tell me ANYTHING that makes you ANGRY??" I waited a little longer this time, and as soon as I saw a girl even flinch, as though we were at an auction, I called on her...

...and she said "I'm angry when my mother beats me". At this point, I realized that the kids definitely understand emotions, and they understand them to a very deep and real level... but they don't use them out loud... or at least they don't use them for petty situations like getting bitten by mosquitos or dogs. I tried to use those things as examples, and the kids just didn't understand. I never witnessed any of the children in my house getting severely beaten, but several of the SIT students said that it happened a lot in their house, and that it was troubling to watch or to hear. All this is going through my head immediately after the girl's response, so finally I snap back into reality and say, "welp, who wants to sing if you're happy and you know it?"

Random Vids from Hawaii

2008-03-12T00:16:00.000-07:00

I had uploaded these in Hawaii, but can't view them here in Samoa, so I'm just hoping that these are whatever my captions say they are:

One of the many broken boards I witnessed that day:

Another vid of Pipeline:

Another vid of pipeline (and at this point I'd like to point out that my first day on the south shore of Samoa I witnessed waves at least 3 times as big as this. Waves I didn't even know existed until recently):

And a shot of one of my roommates at the backpacker's cabin (On the porch and not surfing?? VERY RARE FOOTAGE!) :

Proof that Samoa isn't as bad as I make it sound

2008-03-12T00:12:00.001-07:00

P3020669, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Me and my sister Lani... in her backyard:)

Workin the plantation for the To'ona'i

2008-03-12T00:07:00.001-07:00

P3010621, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

Learning how to husk a coconut: check.

Learning how to climb a coconut tree: in process.

My Samoan Family

2008-03-11T01:41:00.001-07:00

P2290607, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

My Samoan Family has roughly 30 something people in it. Not even joking. Aiomanu and Tala had 11 kids, and most of them got married and had kids. These are two of Vasati (the 2nd eldest)'s children.

I was so grateful to have so many kids at this house, mainly because they seem to be more patient with helping me learn, and are used to being misunderstood/ having to interpret what their younger sibling (who can't speak yet) wants.

I also think that they were sucking up because they knew I was bringing gifts at the end of the week. They kept drawing me pictures of remote control cars and dolls and things-- I'm talking FLOODS of pictures. At first I thought it was cute, but then they got more explicit. The kids started drawing themselves in the pictures with the toys as though they were happily receiving these gifts from me.

That's when I started using the pictures as toilet paper.