My bus ride

I still contend that I have the most beautiful bus ride in the world, so I’m going to do my best to describe it so you can all enjoy the scenery without the bus experience. I’ll start from my village going to Apia, and, should you so choose, you can just reverse the order if you wish to picture the route from Apia back to my village. The lighting effects aren’t quite the same in the afternoon – I usually go to Apia in the morning, and the afternoon sun isn’t quite as nuanced as the sunrise sun. Instead, just try to picture yourself on a beautiful tropical island and that should be enough.

The important thing to note is that you see different things depending on which windows you’re looking out of. I personally divide them into the coastal side and the non-coastal side.

OK, for the first 20 minutes or so, I start out going through the neighboring villages. Nothing too exciting here because we just stop to pick up passengers and cargo (I’m still amazed by the delivery aspect of the bus. I kid you not – one time somebody handed the bus driver a bag, and we stopped 4 fales down to drop it off. The driver just threw the bag into the yard).

After we get out of the villages, the view changes for the next 15-20 minutes or so, until you come to the one turn on my entire bus ride. On the coastal side, there is not much to look at. There are occasional fales, and lots of palm trees, but it’s not particularly captivating. The view is much better here on the non-coastal side. You pass palm tree forests, the refrigerator graveyard (a section of field with literally a dozen refrigerators and other appliances sitting at odd angles in various stages of rust and decay) that is also populated by grazing cows. The refrigerator graveyard is probably my second favorite sight on my bus ride. We also pass two waterfalls, and while you can’t see the waterfalls, you do get a glimpse of narrow and deeply cut valleys.

Then we turn and we come to Lemafa pass, which is the “mountain” our bus has to cross. For Samoa, it is a legit mountain, but for Colorado, it’s your average hill. For the next 20 minutes or so, I think the non-coastal side also has the best view. We spend maybe 5 minutes going up the last part of Lemafa, then it’s all downhill from there. At the top of the mountain, there is the Lemafa scenic site (which I always read as the Lemafa science site, and I wonder what kind of science they do there – I guess geography or geology or some earthy science, then I remember it’s not actually a science site). Right after you pass the sign, the world opens up into a breathtaking valley (non-coastal side, although it's hard to miss). The horizon is bordered by two mountains, and you can see the ocean over the edge of the island. Depending on where you are in the daylight savings cycle, we either hit this part of the ride just before the sun is coming up, so the valley is dark, undefined, and clouded in fog, or just after the sun has come up, so it is gently illuminated and green. Another five minutes down the road (coastal side) and you come to my absolute favorite part of my bus ride – the construction graveyard. There are a few pieces of heavy machinery – a digger, a bulldozer, and something else – that are slowly being covered with leaves and vines. I don’t think they’ve been sitting there much more than a year because there weren’t many vines on them when I first moved to my village, but the jungle is fast encroaching.

Then we go downhill a little further and we come to the suburbs. I think I operate under the notion that I live in the smallest village in Samoa, but I’m sure that’s not the truth – it just feels like it. My other reasoning for why we come into the suburbs here is that my village is the end of the line on the main road. The two villages after me moved up the mountain after the 2009 tsunami, and there are only two villages before me. The whole section of my ride from the waterfalls and refrigerator graveyard, up and down Lemafa pass, down to the construction graveyard and beyond, is almost completely unpopulated. There’s a fale here and there, but I can probably count them on one hand. So it feels like I’m coming into the suburbs when I see fale after fale after fale. Anyway, the ride from here, maybe halfway to Apia, about 45 minutes out of town, doesn’t change very much. On the non-coastal side, you either get fale after fale after fale, or occasionally we come right up against some hills and there is no room for fales. On the coastal side, it alternates between ocean view and fales. This view also changes depending on where you are in the daylight savings time cycle. Sometimes we reach the ocean just as the sun is coming over the horizon, throwing fierce colors across the sky, clouds, and water. If we’re a little later and the sun has already inched away from the horizon, the sky, clouds and water are tinged in gentle shades of lavender and gray fading to blue.

About 10 minutes away from the bus stop, we hit the real suburbs of Apia. For some reason, it always reminds me of the suburbs in Virginia, where my grandma lives. The yards don’t look the same, the houses don’t look remotely similar to the ones in Virginia, but I always get the feeling that I’m in Virginia. Maybe it’s because Virginia is also humid and fairly green. Anyway, now you start to see factories, offices, and business buildings. Not particularly exciting.

Then, after a rushed and harried day of trying to do everything you need and want to do, never having the time good fortune to achieve everything you came into town intending to accomplish, you get back on the crowded bus and reverse the order.

The Race

Preparation for the relay started…well, it was supposed to start 9 weeks prior to the relay when I got a training plan from my ex-coach, but…life gets in the way. It’s hot, or it’s raining, or I don’t feel like it, name your excuse. So preparation kind of started 9 weeks prior to the race, but it wasn’t continuous.

Peace Corps had two teams entered into the relay – they were roughly the group 82 team/all girls and the group 83 team/mixed + one 82er. I was originally on the 83 team (which was highly competitive – two college athletes, and everyone else was ridiculously fast), but about 3 or 4 weeks out from the race, I got a call asking me to switch to the slightly less competitive 82 team. One of the girls had to drop out because of knee problems, and now her replacement was dropping out because of foot problems. I switched teams so we would still have one team of all girls and one team mixed, and the husband of one of the girls on my ex-team replaced me. Then another girl dropped out of the girls’ team because of knee problems. This was about two weeks out, and while we did find a last-minute replacement, nobody had been training, so the poor girl – who was the 4^th replacement on the team – had two weeks to prepare. She ran her first 5K ever during the relay. She also ran her first 6K, 4K, and her second 4K. The girls’ team seemed jinxed, but I figured with the progression of injuries, I would most likely break an arm, so I would still be able to run. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

 The day before the race included the rest of the preparations. We had to have a driver in the relay to shuttle all the runners from one leg to the next, so we had to go rent a car. We got a lovely soccer-mom style mini-van that held everyone and all our stuff rather perfectly. Then we all did some quick grocery shopping to prepare snacks to eat during the race, then drove out to the village of one of the girls on the team. She lived closest to the starting point, maybe 30-45 minute drive away. Driving was by far the hardest part, especially since we started in the capital so we could buy all our food. You’re driving in a foreign country, on the wrong side of the road, in a huge unfamiliar car, with 7 people in the audience after at least 1 year of no driving whatsoever. Good grief, I was happy I did not have that job. Anyway, once we got back out to the village, we started a mad assembly line of making PB&J sandwiches, tuna fish sandwiches, chopping up carrots, and reorganizing everything to make it more accessible. We had a race-healthy dinner of spaghetti and tuna (if you prepare the tuna right with spices and whatnot, it can actually pass for a meatball), and were all in bed by 9. Surprisingly, I fell asleep rather fast. Good thing, because we were all up at 2:15, thanks to dogs barking. My alarm was set for 2:30 anyway, so I didn’t miss too much sleep. And once I was up, nothing could stop me – I was so excited for the race that I didn’t even need caffeine at 2:30 in the morning. Although I don’t usually need caffeine anyway. The morning consisted of brushing teeth, repacking, reorganizing, loading up, and heading off by 3:15.

We got to the starting line with just enough time to get a quick briefing of the rules (run on the right unless the car is following you), a team picture, then I started off the first leg at 4 in the morning. The baton they gave us resembled a glow stick, except it was controlled by a button. Thank goodness it lit up, I think that was my main defense against dogs in the morning because they didn’t know what it was. Dogs are only a major problem when you can’t see them, meaning when it is dark. During the day, they still like to chase you, but you can at least keep track of them a little bit. I only had two major dog encounters during my first leg, then I hit the forest, and there weren’t any fales or dogs around.

I really lucked out by being first in the line-up. I think I had the easiest runs, and they were mostly through small villages or REALLY rural areas, so I didn’t have much traffic, children, or dogs to fight with for the road. In my second leg, I got to run through my village. By then it was about 7 in the morning, so not too many people were up, but those who were out and about all waved to me. My third leg was probably the hardest – it had rolling hills with an overall uphill grade, and it was maybe 10 or 10:30, so it was getting hot. My last leg was around 12:30, also hot, but much flatter, so it wasn’t too bad. After each leg, I would take a little break to eat and drink, then by the time the runner after me finished her leg, I was re-energized and eagerly awaiting my next turn.

Driving was a lot of quick jaunts and long pauses. We would drive to the next checkpoint, wait for the previous runner to show up, then when the next runner started her leg, we would all pile into the car again, drive to the next checkpoint, and repeat. During breaks, there was lots of stretching, lots of drinking (it’s hot in Samoa, especially when you run, I think I drank about 5 liters during the race – 3 waterbottles and 3 niu – niu are the coconuts you drink), and lots of bathroom breaks.

After the race, we stayed at one of the swankest hotels in Samoa. Somebody has an in with the manager, so we got rooms for half price, and split 4 or 5 ways, it was reasonable, especially for the luxury. Hot showers, air conditioning that you can actually use because you have a down comforter to sleep under, all kinds of tea, and plush bathrobes. It was fantastic.

To sum up the day: we all joined the last runner for the last sprint of her last leg across the finish line. We ran 104K (64 miles) in 10 hours and 43 minutes. I personally ran 11 miles, but I forgot to keep track of my time. The other team in the women’s division started the race at 3:15, and they finished in 11 hours 8 minutes or something like that. Some crazy guy ran the entire race by himself and finished in around 14 hours (he started at midnight). The other Peace Corps team started the race at 6, and they finished in 9 hours and 1 minute. Both Peace Corps teams came in first in their division. This year was the third year for the relay race, and it was also the third year the Peace Corps teams have won their divisions. That’s a good legacy we’ve got going, let’s hope we can keep it up next year. I can’t wait!

August in pictures

The bulk of my afternoons was taken up by visiting the construction of the falekomiti - the meeting house for the women's committee. I liked to hang out and help with the cooking, although they only thing they let me do was shell the cocoa beans, which I actually quite enjoyed.

Love the facial expressions in this picture!

All the kids love when you take out a camera, and they all swarm...

Yes, I've been swarmed by year 2 students

Swarmed again by year 1

This is one of the kids of my year 1 teacher. His name
is Masina, Sina for short. He is THE MOST ADORABLE
kid on the face of the planet. Too bad he doesn't swarm
the camera like the rest of them do.

Part 1 of the wedding - the ceremony

Part 2 of the wedding - giving of traditional gifts to the families
and important guests (mostly pastors qualify for that status)

The fine mats - these take months to weave, and they are huge!

Picture out of order - the cocoa beans. They cook them on a piece
of metal over a coconut husk fire - ridiculously hot!

Part 3 - the reception. The cake tiers are given away to
important guests, and one or two big tiers are cut up
so each guest can have a piece at the reception

From left to right: my neighbor, La'uvale, my neighbors' cousin (can't
remember names!) and my year 7 student, Leti



Same neighbor's cousin, neighbor Jane. Family
of the bride and groom are conscripted for work



There were 12 flower girls and 25 bride's maids

Neighbor Alofa

At the dedication for the falekomiti. I got to give one of the traditional
gifts. I think I need more practice. There was lots of ice cream and
dancing.

These are my two favorite little girls in my village (names also
unremembered). They live across the street from each other, and
any time I walk by, they come running from their fales to talk to me.
They speak slowly and enunciate all their words, so I can understand
them perfectly up until they use a word I don't know.