samoa #2- 'Upolu

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')  

. . . and that is for another blog post!