This is it. I leave New Zealand today. Sabbatical over (well almost - I'm not starting my AK job until Nov.1). Just short of 7 months, living 6 in Wellington, has been just the ticket for this formerly stressed museum director. Working part-time and house-sitting has afforded enough time and money to travel, yet stay pretty grounded in one place to make friends and work colleagues who will stay with me forever.
This post is dedicated to all the wonderful people on these little islands who made my trip intimate and real. Let's start with those hoots at the College of GPs (yes, that was a reference to OWLcatraz you guys). On my last day, here's what I arrived to (right). Thank you for the classy decs & party planning, Sue L (even if you did plan the first farewell tea an afternoon I was gone).
Not all my pix turned out at the party, but here's a few. These guys gave me a kiwi tea with all the NZ favorites, including the first palatable Vegemite I have eaten (thanks, Jeanette!).
I'm going to miss this international crew - our level 2 team (professional development group) included an American, Australian, a Dane, two Irish, an English and a South African - we seven were only matched by eight kiwis, so I hope the balance stays after I'm gone! (Daniel & Cathy, representing Ireland and South Africa, left)
Note Sue D's very flash desk decorations, including the intricate OWL art (OWL is the online learning platform we administer for our GPs in training). I didn't realise Owlcatraz was a real place until a recent trip north . . . I admit I was a bit scared of it on that desolate road south of Palmy. This is Lana in the bottom pic with me - her dad just completed a multi-month motorcycle tour of the northwest, including Alaska. Although he was smart and didn't go to Homer during the deluge weeks. Tracking his GPS plots was a popular work break.
I loved working with this group at the Royal New Zealand College of General Practitioners - mostly for their sense of humor, hard work and welcoming me into the family.
Speaking of families, here's my Te Papa family below. To my right is Kylie, my supervisor, who also became a great friend during my stint working on a project for National Services Te Paerangi. (For great pics of NSTP folks performing at Matariki, see my June post below.) The rest of the gang is from the NSTP team or our larger directorate, Nga Manu Atarau, which facilitates iwi relationships with Te Papa and includes our team and the repatriation team. It's been an honor to work with this group, really. The work is so important and absolutely crucial in New Zealand as the country continues to work toward cultural redress for Māori and better mutual understanding of all NZ's cultures. Our work space is open plan, so the three teams around me are always talking over cubicle walls, singing and laughing. In addition to hearing half of the phone conversations going on in Māori, it was certainly a greater learning experience than just working on my project. From the team meetings, waita (song) practice, te reo classes (Māori language) and frequent exhibit blessings and powhiri, my experience at Te Papa was amazing because I was lucky enough to land in the middle of this group.
On the home front, a close network in the Mana area of Porirua kept me well connected, from friends living at the marina, music pals and Rotary. Since I lived in a suburb of Wellington, it was great to have the friends in the city and friends outside the city. I've written about Cat & Leanne, who live on their boat in Mana Marina. Our usual get together was the Saturday market, though you can read about more serious escapades in the Port Ligar and Tongariro Crossing blog entries below (April & May). When Tom & Chris Laing (top right) visited last weekend, we were on a walk down by the marina when a beeping car pulled up with not only Cat, but four family members hanging out the window -- in town visiting for WOW (World of Wearableart - a huge annual show including fashion & dance - cirque de soleil style). Raewyn & Tim (mid right) run the farm at Port Ligar where I wwoofed in April. I didn't think I'd see them again, so it was great to catch them and meet for lunch later in the city with the whole gang. The farm experience was certainly a highlight of my journey, and even better, to have Cat & Leanne as friends just down the road.
On the music front, Jenny, my fellow horn player who lives up the road, took good care of me with rides every week to rehearsal, and the occasional lunch or movie at our favorite cinema in Pauatahanui. Here's the horn section - what a crew!
Jenny, Adrian, Peter, me
The Kapiti Chamber Choir was also filled with wonderful people and sadly I didn't get any photos of them! Though I always liked bumping into some of them on the train or at a concert in the city. Most of them live further north than me, along the sunny Kapiti Coast. Many were familiar with the St Olaf Choir, so it was a fun connection and a real pleasure to sing complicated choral music again.
Jim & Shirley, April 2010
The Plimmerton Rotary Club also took great care of me. A lively Thursday night bunch, I enjoyed the pre-dinner drinks, socializing, good projects and good company -- even taking home a paper trophy from Quiz Night! I found my house sitting gig through the club since they'd sent a team to Homer in 2008. Jim & Shirley (part of the Homer trip) let me stay with them my first week in Wellington. Sadly, Shirley passed away while I was here, quite suddenly. Her amazing work for refugees to New Zealand will always be remembered (and now carried on by Jim).
I'm sure I've forgotten many people, but just wanted to share some thoughts about the friends I've made and the groups I've had the luck to join while here. It's about time to head to the airport . . . stopping in LA for 8 hours where I'll see 3 friends for dinner, then on to the east coast for a week before getting back to Alaska for a meeting in Fairbanks. Finally, I look forward to stepping on to Homer soil on October 22nd! What an adventure.
Sarah's first view of the South Island - Golden Bay, Farewell Spit & the Abel Tasman (this is where the Laings live, for you Homerites)
Sistas Beggs take the south pacific - part 3! For adventures in Samoa, see two posts below: Savai'i & 'Upolu. This post finishes up our travels together in New Zealand August 15-29. We started in Christchurch, staying with Peter & Mary one night, which was fitting since Peter & Dad lived in the same house in Samoa in the 60s (Peter was a kiwi journalist who lived there 17 years, I think). It was great to share our samoan stories with them and get Peter's perspective, as he's been part of international aid projects for much of his life. And lest you worry, he and Mary are doing just fine after the quake.
We rented a car in Christchurch (another Nissan Sunny - 3rd time in NZ) and I drove for the next 10 days. Since I was always gripping that right-side wheel, Sarah has 10x more pix than me (that and she's a picture-taking fool), so I'll wait for copies before loading a complete photo album.
Our first stop was the Banks Peninsula, part of a huge caldera of the extinct volcano that formed the region. We skirted the dirt roads from Akaroa (a french settlement), always with a sheer drop-off sans guard-rail on one side or the other. Add to that: dipping in and out of a thick cloud along the ridges and meeting campervans on narrow dirt tracks (which had many sign posts restricting campervans), made for an exciting christening of our car for the road trip.
We overnighted in Timaru, then continued south toward Dunedin. It was fun to see the Moeraki Boulders again, this time at high tide (preventing Sarah from seeing as many as I saw at low tide in March). But they are still strangely spectacular and mysterious.
We made it out the Moeraki Peninsula, which I hadn't done previously, and began our impressive count of fur seals. New Zealand fur seals are big animals, with the distinguishing characteristic of moving quite quickly across land, as they use their flippers to "walk" (and run!) rather than just flopping forward like other seals.
Above is a photo of the peninsula we hiked out and some seals who made it quite far on that same peninsula (how precious are the pups?)
A pup like this actually 'ran' over to us in Kaikoura (then darted straight into the bushes).
After a morning visit to Oamaru and an afternoon visit to Dunedin, we headed down to Milton to stay overnight with my Homer friend Sue's sister and her kiwi family. Though we'd planned to head back up for more of Dunedin the next day and take a mountain route I hadn't tried, we soon learned just how long of a drive it would be. So we opted for a more direct route to Te Anau (fiordland) in hopes of catching the only decent day predicted for Milford Sound.
We cruised through southern Otago and Southland, stopping in Riverton for lunch and got a tip from a local woman to be sure to drive down to "Cozy Nook." Not a place we would've ever thought to turn, but her advice was great, as the road led us to surf battered coast where a few die-hards chose to huddle a handful of small homes and boats. Very 'end of the road,' with hints of Alaska and stark Scottish highlands.
After some daunting downpours, Manapouri greeted us with a rainbow and things were still looking good in Te Anau for a half-way-decent day on the fjord (that's all we asked). We took our chances and bought a couple boat tickets for a milford cruise the next day. Evening entertainment was the local movie theater, where their home-grown film on Fiordland, Ata Whenua, is shown exclusively (trailer below).
The next morning we jumped in the car and headed up the milford road, talking our time since the cruise wasn't until 2pm. We were fine with the low cloud, occasionally revealing breath-taking peaks and lifting as we ascended the pass. By the time we got to the Homer Tunnel it was full-on sunshine! Not quite the land of 1,000 waterfalls as I experienced in March (the cliffs drain water from every crevice when it rains - the milford road was also closed for 5 days then due to a huge landslide).
On the other side of the tunnel, the divide was complete - not a cloud in the sky - we'd left the weather on the other side of the mountains. Hurrah! We had an uncharacteristic glorious day on Milford Sound that people rarely experience (with 265" of rain per year, it's hard to find a day without).
mouth of Milford Sound, from the Tasman
Mitre Peak was brilliant. I can't believe these are the same 'rough waters' I kayaked in on my birthday. We had a good wildlife showing as well, with dolphins chasing our boat, a rare fiordland crested penguin and plenty of fur seals. With the calm weather we made it all the way to the Tasman and could look up & down the remote fiordland coast. It was easy to see how Captain Cook totally missed the fjord - that Tasman entrance is deceiving. Though the exponential increase in waterfalls is the pleasure of a rainy trip (only 5 permanent falls, but thousands when it rains), I have to say I'm glad we got the weather we did.
We made it back to Te Anau in time to catch a tour of the glow worm caves, which rounded out a perfect day. After meandering through a limestone cave at night, you're put in a boat, everone turns off their torch, and the guide slowly rows you on a sea of black to caverns full of glow worms. Although I've seen plenty in the woods at night on my own, this was special. The 30-min cruise across Lake Te Anau in the dark is awesome too - Sarah and I braved the top deck on the way back since it was such a beautiful night.
The next morning we made tracks for Queenstown, where we ate lunch and strolled around in the sunshine before taking the Crown Ridge pass to Wanaka. It stayed beautiful, so we decided to drive out Mt Aspiring road before heading to Holly & Jeff's crib. (Sue's sister used to live in Wanaka and they still have a house where they were coincidentally headed that weekend, so invited us to stay with them again.)
We dared to ford rivers on the slowly deteriorating road, but opted to stop at the swing bridge, rather than taking the road to the bitter end. Sunset was fantastic heading back along Lake Wanaka and we found the 'crib' no problem. We dumped our stuff, then headed into town to eat. None of our picks worked out, so we took a recommendation from a local and went to The Cow - and were so glad we did. Had a wood-fired pizza in an old stone stable building with lots of charm and a great crowd. Our hosts had made it from Milton by the time we got home so we enjoyed the evening and all went on a walk on the Clutha River the next morning before we headed to the west coast.
Just after this stop overlooking Lake Hawea (above) we were detained by several hundred sheep in the road, a typical NZ hazard. Sarah about had a coronary because she is so in love with sheep - New Zealand had already been a dream come true without this little gift. We took video and slowly made our way through the herd. Maybe now is a good time for Sarah's favorite souvenir (that she didn't buy) in Queenstown.
Over Haast Pass New Zealand decided to obey its expected climate and it began to rain in the rain forest - imagine that. It helped us make progress toward the glaciers without too much stopping and, as our luck continued, the rain held off for our walks up to Fox and Franz Josef Glaciers. We appreciated the novelty of coastal glaciers at this low latitude and continued up the coast, enjoying our rain-soaked scenery until hitting Greymouth for the night. We stayed in one of my favorite hostels, full of african art and bright paint on every available surface. With our fast pace, it was a welcome comfort to just relax.
We visited Punakaiki the next morning and enjoyed the beautiful drive between Greymouth & Westport that is so reminiscent of the Oregon coast. Took a new route across the north end of the Southern Alps, aiming toward Kaikoura on the east coast.
Lewis Pass was nice - we had an interesting lunch stop in Reefton, took a short alpine hike near the St James track, and checked out Hanmer Springs and Mt Lyford Village on the way. The inland road (a 'shortcut' from the Waiau River to Kaikoura) was unexpected - both in length and beauty.
Kaikoura, the Homer of New Zealand
We stayed at a quaint old post office and telephone exchange in Kaikoura - now the Albatross hostel. Kaikoura bore a bizarre resemblance to Homer. We reveled in the sunny day, hiked around the peninsula, kayaked with Matty, and seal-spotted. We unfortunately learned of our Grandpa Beggs' death that day, so just had a quiet afternoon & evening and were glad to have each other's company. That night we turned in early and were woken up at 4am to the town's emergency siren blaring. We'd heard a siren the day before and learned that all ER services were volunteer, so this was a common (daily) occurence. We didn't worry until Sarah bolted up and told me to open my eyes and look at the window. It was bright orange and dancing with flames!!! I jumped out of bed and opened the shades to see a huge conflagration one house away. It was the historic district court house (above). And the fire was in no way contained. We got on our shoes and waited. After about an hour the volunteer fire fighters had it reasonably under control, but we were plenty rattled and didn't sleep much more before an early exit the next morning.
We drove up the coast to Picton to meet our afternoon ferry across Cook Strait to Wellington - a scenic drive along rocky, seal-infested coastline and marlborough wine country. The weather held for a smooth crossing and we got into Wellington just as the sun was setting and adding its glow to the buildings that climb the hills along the harbour. We hopped on a train to my place and dragged our bags down the path to my house under a nearly full moon reflecting on the inlet. A nice introduction to the north island for Sarah!
The next day we just hung out in my neighborhood, recovering from our manic pace. We had beautiful weather for a beach walk on Mana Harbour and the weather continued through the next day, which we spent exploring Wellington. We capped off a long day in the city with night walk in Karori Park, where we listened to kiwi mating calls and stalked nocturnal birds, lizards & insects for a few hours - very fun!
For our last weekend together we decided to head to Taranaki, just to let Sarah see another part of the North Island. We took the Forgotten World highway from Taumarunui to Stratford - a winding surprise of gorges, native forests, double-rainbows and the north island's tallest waterfall (which we hiked to in the dark). We stayed at the foot of Mt Taranaki - Egmont Village, in a hostel that we would find ourselves locked inside the next morning! No one was around to help us get out, so we climbed out the window.
Sarah's final day in New Zealand began (after the hostel escape) with a loop through New Plymouth, down the surf highway, and a visit to cape egmont lighthouse before we finally gave up on seeing the mountain (still shrouded in cloud). We made the best of the trip home, though, with a lunch stop in Whanganui and extended play time in Kowhai Park, with it's amazing equipment (just wait 'til you see the octopus!). I'll be sure to upload the album of our park photo shoot, but for now, here we are in mother hubbard's shoe.
Well that's as good of a farewell as we could manage - we made it back to Wellington with enough time for a couple hours at Te Papa before Sarah's evening flight. After a teary departure, she left me in the shadowlands, Te Ata Whenua. (is that my cheesiest closing, or what?)
Today is Father's Day in New Zealand (September 5th). When I was in Samoa it was Father' Day (August 9th). and I last spoke to my Grandpa Beggs on US Father's Day (June 20th).
GRANDPA BEGGS
June 2008, our last in-person visit
With three father's days this year and losing both my grandfathers in the last two months, it seems only fitting to post on the blog today. I love this picture - grandpa with me and a samoan tapa (siapo) on the wall. Grandpa & Grandma visited my dad in Samoa in the 60s during his Peace Corps service.
Here they are in 1985:
From one of my Grandpa's geneology emails: "Adella was home at Thanksgiving and briefly dated Alan Beggs. She came back for a week or so at Christmas and they spent much time together. They were engaged Feb.6 and eloped and married March 1, 1937 - before the folks came back from Florida."
Grandpa was our family geneologist, following his father's lead. When I was in Belgium as an exchange student in '91-'92, he sent me detailed instructions to churches, graves and castles in Scotland to visit, as well as other European lineage back to the middle ages. When I did my infamous 50-mile "Easter Sunday bike ride of '92" to Dunmaglass and Dunlichity Church (where my grandma's MacGillivray side is buried near Loch Ness), the locals welcomed me like family and it was surely because of the connections I brought from Grandpa's letters. Grandpa and I always had a special connection with international travels, love for languages and penpals the world over (by 15 years after my grandma passed he had quite the roster of international girlfriends!). Learning Portuguese and active on email in his 90s, Grandpa was a model of living life to the fullest. He was also the patriarch of a family tree full of grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It sounds like our family reunion last week at his memorial was second only to his 50th wedding anniversary celebration. So sorry to have missed it. He joined his wife on August 22, 2010.
6 of his great-grandchildren (my bro's 3 boys and my cousin's 3 girls), 2009
GRANDPA ARCHIE
Christmas, 2009
Archie, my grandpa on my mom's side, wasn't my blood grandpa (my mom's dad died a year before I was born, a veteran of the WWII Aleutian Campaign). Archie married my Grandma when I was 2, so he is the only one I've known. He dated my grandma before her first marriage and his brother married my grandma's sister - which made it extra special when they got back together after her husband's death. Archie loved garage sales, where he always (and only) offered 'two bucks' and often justified a purchase with "I don't know what it is, but it's the best one I ever saw!" That was reason enough to collect it. Arch was a good golfer, story-teller, dog-spoiler, and liked helping his grandkids get into trouble, even if it meant losing a tree in his yard because he let this granddaughter behind the wheel of a riding lawn mower a little too young. I think we've got a picture of him letting each of us sip beer as a kid (prompting my photo tribute below with my nephew Ryan last year). Archie had a great sense of humor, as you can see, and loved his three adopted grandchildren (even when we mercilessly helped him quit smoking). He passed on July 1, 2010.
And finally, a third father's day for my theatrical father! Well, the two Samoan blog entries below are dedicated to dad and he's right: there seems to be a genetic predisposition to the Peace Corps that I've inherited. I could go on and on, but I'll paste below what I wrote for the Top 40 Under 40 award booklet last year, since they gave me a word limit. (I need one when gushing about my dad.)
Name the person you most respect and why?
(in 150 words or less)
I most respect my father, Jim Beggs, who has always led by example in pursuing fulfilling life work, accepting challenges, creating adventures and sharing his love for music. From serving in the Peace Corps in Samoa, to practicing family medicine in the public health service and rural communities, he has always valued hard work and dedication above high pay or recognition. Returning for a master’s degree in his 50s, he added health administration skills to his medical training and continues to work towards health care solutions. But above his inspiring work ethic, I respect how he has led a very busy professional life, yet found time to sing and play guitar around the campfire, guide our hikes like an expert naturalist, and show us the joy of curiosity and lifelong learning. His overwhelming return of respect to his children has made him one of my best friends as an adult.
Sarah and I had a great time at Aggie Grey's (the historic resort in Apia, Samoa) our last night, creating a photo collage of Dad's head in various locations about the lobby. For the full narrative of 'the phantom proprietor of Aggie Grey's,' click here for the slideshow.
I'm sure you've all heard about the 7.1 earthquake in Christchurch yesterday. Here's a link to news/pics if you're interested. Just to let you know I'm safe in Wellington (north island, Christchurch is on the south island). There is a lot of central city damage and although no loss of life has been reported, the greater region has major water, sewer and electricity issues to deal with, in addition to major structural damage.
I've been really impressed with NZ's emergency response and reporting of the incident. I listened to Radio NZ most of yesterday, who did a great job, and it dawned on me this morning how well TV is doing too (didn't miss the US media, who would have already branded the disaster with a catchy phrase while hyping sensationalist stories over facts). New Zealand news is still quirky (as Sarah can now attest), but my hat's off to them this weekend. They, like the rest of the country, are showing great solidarity, generosity and sensitivity to victims. Recovery efforts are also impressive, with systems in place that are actually working, it seems. The official disaster status meant the bunker under the 'beehive' (our parliament building's nickname) was put into action, and the government's earthquake commission has $12 billion (NZ) to fund insurance claims.
Not sure who will be at work monday at the College of GPs, where I temp part-time. 90% of our staff left for the GP national conference in Christchurch for the weekend. There will be no shortage of doctors in the city, thankfully!
After the jam-packed ferry from Savai'i & overflowing bus ride into Apia, I was ready to walk to my hostel from the Maketi Fou (central market & bus stop), no matter how far it was. Well, it was a ways - beyond Aggie's and across the bridge on Beach Road, though I enjoyed getting to know the town on foot. I settled (rather collapsed) into my least favorite lodging of the trip (a bit institutional) and then enjoyed a sunset walk on the waterfront. Just across the street there were tunes blaring from the deck of an italian restaurant and I wondered if it was the one my parents recommended (with a very entertaining fa'afafine owner). Fa'afafine are cross-dressers, a very accepted part of Samoan culture (though homosexuality is not). I decided I deserved a meal out (after only coconut milk for lunch) and opted for the closest thing, so headed in. In fact it was the place and I knew it the second he greeted me with a high-pitched "table for one?" flaunting a tight black shirt unbuttoned down to his belly button.
Before and after dinner I was greeted by my newest friend on the waterfront, a 50-ish guy who struck up a conversation with me by yelling a hello from down the walkway where he was sitting on the big volcanic rocks near the water. He proceeded to swim over and chat for half an hour (while treading water), sure he'd met Peace Corps volunteers from my dad's time who taught him how to play baseball. For my two days in Apia he was always there on the waterfront, and always yelled a talofa (hello) or malo (hi) to me by name when I passed.
The next mornnig an Aussie girl, Amanda, joined me for breakfast -- the same Aussie from the Manase fales. We decided to split a ride up to the Robert Louis Stevenson museum - he was much loved by Samoans, had a big villa (Vailima) on the hill above town, and is buried on Mt Vaea. Vailima in this instance translates as '5 streams' rather than 'hand water' like the town and the beer.
We climbed the mountain (in a downpour) then hiked downhill to town (in full mid-day sun) -- I got back to the hostel just in time to eat a sandwich and change for my afternoon meeting with the Peace Corps Country Director. I thought it would be smart to get a real taste of the job while visiting a Peace Corps country, so had set this up in advance. Glad I did, as Dale was really helpful in affirming my interest in the job. After our chat I spent the rest of the day roaming the streets and markets of Apia. I enjoyed a dinner at Aggie Grey's, curious about this historic resort where my grandparents had stayed in the 60s and my parents stayed in '97 during my dad's 40th Peace Corps reunion. They had a guitar ensemble playing, so I lingered, then went back to pack up for Sarah's arrival in the morning.
The 'sistas beggs' adventure began at 7am when Sarah arrived on the veranda of the hostel, safe, sound, & excited for one of her first big international travel adventures (since her trip at 11 to visit me after my exchange student year in Belgium). After breakfast we got a ride from Mona (a taxi who owed me money from my arrival when he couldn't make change) to the market where we promptly bought the necessary lava lavas (unisex sarongs) we'd wear forever after. We sat in the middle of the bus shelter and watched intently for anything marked Lalomanu, Saleapaga or Falefa - the 3 buses I'd identified heading east from my 'research' the day before. (note the Bon Jovi bus - does he know?)
The Lalomanu bus we boarded only took us as far as the flea market across town, then parked and informed us he wasn't leaving until after 2:00. So we looked for the next bus - found one leaving around 10:00, or so they said. We looked around the market then relaxed on the grass near the buses until we finally boarded the beast that would do a few loops around town until full, then head east along the north coast of 'Upolu.
We lucked out - this bus wasn't nearly as crowded as the ones I'd taken in Savai'i. It did have a good amount of supplies for the other side of the island, though. After a petrol & ice cream stop we were soon near our first destination - Falefa Falls. Per usual, we were dumped on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. We crossed a bridge and walked down the road to a fale at the top of the steep hill down to the falls.
The women offered up a young boy, Anthony, to guide us and jump off the cliff for our picture-taking pleasure. Anthony also helped us scale the rocks behind the main gusher, diving through it at the end. Then he showed us manageable rocks for us to jump off (like 8 ft). We had a great time. When we hiked back up the hill, the ladies of the fale invited us to join their family for lunch. Luckily I'd picked up some taro chips and apples so had an offering to share. After a great soup (that unfortunately Sarah had to reject as a vegetarian due to the large joint floating about), we headed back to the main road to start waiting for a bus.
It would be a while before a bus came and we knew it - there's a tradition of extra-long-and-unpredictable lunch breaks, so we thought we'd be lucky to see a bus before 3:00. We settled in the shade of a palm tree and watched the local traffic: guys walking with baskets of coconuts supported by poles across their shoulders, kids walking home from school, and the occasional tourist (a nice german couple shared fruit with us when I shared my pocket knife). After being nearly trampled by school-children wanting their photo taken, a dump truck pulled up and asked the magic question, "Lalomanu?" - "YES!" we said, and climbed into the high cab.
There's nothing like the unobstructed view out the windscreen of a big truck! We drove the Richardson Road pass through the mountains to the southeastern tip of the island with 2 guys who spoke little to no english, one who squished himself behind the seats to allow me in the passenger seat and Sarah perched on the plastic compartment between seats. It was a gorgeous mountain drive, with cheers from our back-seat rider when we took particularly good photos.
Then we came to the coast and Lalomanu, where they endured the worst of the Sept '09 tsunami. The view was heart-breaking, with over half of the village fales reduced to foundations, ground scoured bare, and churches battered. Communities were rebuilding, though, and doing a great job. We stayed at the rebuilt fales on Taufua Beach, where the owner had lost 14 family members and still had not gone back in the water. The coral reef was pretty injured, fish were returning, but people's possessions were still spotted by snorkelers rather than bright underwater scenes.
We enjoyed a fia fia that night -the traditional night of dance, song & fire-throwing. Dinners were on a long communal table with other guests and we met the only American on our journey, a RPCV back doing a graduate thesis documenting stories of tsunami survivors. We shared a fale with her since they didn't have room for us otherwise.
The next day we negotiated a taxi fare to take us to virgin cove, on the south coast west of the cross-island road. Buses didn't really do that route -- all headed back to Apia, one way or another, over the mountains. We got Bruce to drive us (with his pink boa draped across the dash), stopping at a few choice spots. Our first stop was To Sua Ocean Trench, a magical sink hole where you climb down a ladder to a pool that is connected to other sink holes through caves you swim through. Fairy grotto indeed!
We hit another waterfall, then went straight on to virgin cove, as it was raining and Bruce had clearly underestimated the distance (nevermind the 4WD-only track at the bitter end). We compensated him for his time and trouble by giving a large tip to help his family rebuild back in Lalomanu.
Virgin Cove was at the end of the rutted dirt track past Sa'anapu and quite surprising - a real retreat, almost like a high-end campground of fales tucked in the woods, outdoor showers surrounded by lava rock walls and small coves laced with jet black rock. On our evening walk we passed mangrove trees in a swampy area before being drenched by a sudden downpour -- it was even cool enough to wear long sleeves that evening! After enjoying a great dinner and even better musicians, we faced the music and accepted the next day was our last and we needed to get back to Apia for our flight. (We were definitely at the end of the road and Sarah wondered if I'd gotten us to a place we couldn't get out of.)
Happily, they had a morning shuttle, so we enjoyed a comfortable ride back over the (secondary) cross-island road (there are two) and the colorful fales of rural 'Upolu. (note the tombs traditionally placed in the front yard - R) We came into Apia from the west, delivering a paycheck to a resort employee on the way. As the only guests aboard, we enjoyed a chat with one of the employees on the shuttle who was coming into town to do deposits and payroll. They dropped us at the visitor center, which allowed us to leave our bags for the day as we explored Apia, where we were soon spotted by a couple taxi drivers who said, "hey, aren't you the girls from Lalomanu?" Love it - locals in a week!
After making an airport shuttle reservation at Aggie's (they allowed us on their shuttle and held our packs for the evening if we ate dinner there), we went to the market and caught a taxi to the Papase'ea Sliding Rocks out of town. We managed to get a demonstration of how to survive these slick boulders that shoot you like a bullet into a pool below. (I'd been cautioned not to do it without watching several locals first.) We both survived with minor injuries (Sarah: very red thighs/butt, me: a pressure shot in the ears - quite pleasant for the upcoming flight).
We were also surprised by passing St Joseph's College on the way up to the rocks -- dad taught there during his Peace Corps time in Samoa. Our taxi driver took advantage of our enthusiasm and charged far more to come back to town than to go up, but in all, we came out okay on transportation. We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for gifts at the market, then picked up our bags before the visitor center closed at 5:00.
We enjoyed a breezy last evening in Apia. Two fautasi (45-person canoes) were practicing for the Tehuila Festival races in September, so we sat by the harbor and watched until sunset. Then we headed into Aggie's for dinner and to drop our bags until the 12:30am shuttle (not a bad deal). After dinner we laid down under the stars for a couple hours, down by the water where the canoes had landed. The perseid meteor shower was almost peak that night, though the Southern Cross wasn't visible yet for the clouds. After about 10:30 we were so groggy we decided the safest bet was to wait for the shuttle in Aggie's lobby, so we entertained ourselves with a little photo shoot project before the big flying canoe in the sky took us to New Zealand. (waka rererangi, the Māori word for airplane, literally translates as 'canoe flying in the sky')
I'm going to miss this international crew - our level 2 team (professional development group) included an American, Australian, a Dane, two Irish, an English and a South African - we seven were only matched by eight kiwis, so I hope the balance stays after I'm gone! (Daniel & Cathy, representing Ireland and South Africa, left)
On the home front, a close network in the Mana area of Porirua kept me well connected, from friends living at the marina, music pals and Rotary. Since I lived in a suburb of Wellington, it was great to have the friends in the city and friends outside the city. I've written about Cat & Leanne, who live on their boat in Mana Marina. Our usual get together was the Saturday market, though you can read about more serious escapades in the Port Ligar and Tongariro Crossing blog entries below (April & May). When Tom & Chris Laing (top right) visited last weekend, we were on a walk down by the marina when a beeping car pulled up with not only Cat, but four family members hanging out the window -- in town visiting for WOW (World of Wearableart - a huge annual show including fashion & dance - cirque de soleil style). Raewyn & Tim (mid right) run the farm at Port Ligar where I wwoofed in April. I didn't think I'd see them again, so it was great to catch them and meet for lunch later in the city with the whole gang. The farm experience was certainly a highlight of my journey, and even better, to have Cat & Leanne as friends just down the road.
