Lessons down the river of learning

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

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)

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

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 aim 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 came 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. 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 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 its flaws, and to expose my own ... I want to learn how to be an emotionalist.

Homecoming Weekend

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

My New Job(!)

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

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

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

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

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?

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

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...

"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

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!

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)

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...

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

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

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. 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?

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

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

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

Can I graduate?

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

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

Rat-tail hunting.

Suni and Share

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

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

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

DSCF0436, originally uploaded by mandy.mantzel.

If pictures are worth 1000 words...

Woop woop! We have a winner!!

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

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

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!

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)

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

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

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.

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

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

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.