Finding Adventure in Samoa

Photo: Traci (Dordt '11)

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Korrie (Messiah '13) writes:

It all started last fall, when four mates and I went to Philly to see the Trans-Siberian Orchestra one weekend. In the car on the way home that Sunday, we were talking about important things, and one of those things was living adventurously. Making the most of opportunities, taking chances-just not being afraid to do something or meet someone or learn something or go somewhere. We decided that the best life is filled with adventures, big and small. I was thinking about that conversation before heading to Samoa, and that risk-taking mentality helped me have a fuller, richer experience in the tiny island country. Here are some of the adventurous things I did there, in no particular order:

•snorkeling in the Pacific Ocean and swallowing a ridiculous amount of sea water

•getting multiple crabs put down my shirt by a 9-year-old girl named Val

•reading aloud Proverbs 19 in Samoan during sa (family devotional time)

•going one-on-one in a game of ninja warrior versus the high chief of Safua village

•being singled out to perform a traditional Samoan dance in front of the village during fiafia

•knocking back a mouthful of kava drink with all of the village matai watching

•eating an unhealthy amount of taro, hot dogs, and Ramen

•singing and dancing to “Rockin’ Robin,” “Take It Easy,” “Build Me Up Buttercup,” and “Play That Funky Music” in front of two hundred Samoans

•wearing an ankle-length wrap skirt (lavalava) for 10 days in 90 degree weather

•sleeping in a house without walls for a week

•climbing a coconut tree (with much aid from my homestay brother)

•teaching 13 Samoans with varying degrees of English to play Dutch Blitz

•finally convincing my homestay sisters, after I had finished eating, to let me fan the food while they ate my leftovers

•attempting (and failing) a magic card trick and then being shown up by a villager

•using the bathroom many many times while staring at 4-cm-long cockroaches

•wading through 5 inches of mucky water in the Apia flood

•getting slammed into the sand by my homestay cousins during full tackle rugby on the beach

•taking cold showers-while wearing clothes in a desperate attempt to get them clean

•trying to sweet-talk my coconut leaf basket through NZ customs (failed)

Samoa is a country full of beautiful people and beautiful places, and for me and the rest of us here at CCSP South Pacific, it is a country full of adventure.

Photo: Korrie (Messiah '13)

Photo: Korrie (Messiah '13)

Crossing Cultures: A Student Perspective

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Kerry (Gordon '12) writes:

I am, what some people call, a well traveled person. I am a native Midwesterner going to school in the major city of Boston: and some people consider this to be a cross cultural experience in and of itself. In addition, I have traveled to Central America several times and am used to being the shiny new toy amongst foreigners. But in my entire traveling career, I have never experienced such a vivacious loving culture like Samoa. Samoa is a country so rich in its rooted traditions and customs that, at first I could barely keep pace. It was difficult and frustrating in the beginning. I don’t mind telling you that I’m a 5’9’’ girl with long gangly legs. However, in Samoan culture a female needs to wear a lava lava (skirt wrap) well past their knees in order to be considered modest. You can only fathom my difficulty at trying to keep those gangly legs covered. This extra coverage in the heat of a Samoan day was frustrating as my lava lava would cling to my sweaty legs. I tried to close myself off from this country in the beginning. I was hot, tired from a long flight, and above all things I wanted my Starbucks. I know, how stupid? Here I am in the middle of a tropical paradise and all I could think about was the comforts of home.  But even though I tried to lock my heart up to this beautiful country, it climbed its way in.

It wasn’t the tropical beaches, refreshing cold coconut milk, or even the breathtaking coral that I snorkeled amongst that pried open the walls of my heart. No. It was the people. Sitting in the back of our tour bus, tired as I was, the band boys of the Safua hotel brought my energy back. Bob Marley brought it back. We sat in the back of the bus dancing, laughing, and singing to good old Bob and yes, even Justin Beiber.  There in the back of a hot sweaty bus was I able to get to know the band boys of Safua and their stories. Through the afternoon heat in my fale (open beach hut) I was also able to hear the story behind my homestay mother who opened her heart to me and told her life story. It wasn’t an easy life story to share: filled with an unplanned pregnancy, a self attempt at abortion, and fear for her life. She has fought, worked, and struggled for everything she has in life and loves her four little girls with every beat of her heart. I could see this in her eyes as she talked about how happy she was that her attempt at abortion failed. These were the people that fueled my energy and whose memories are I have locked away in my heart.

And tonight as I watched the slideshow of pictures my classmates put together my heart ached. It ached for Samoa; for the people I met and now miss. How did this happen? I had tried to close myself off to these people, but they climbed their way in anyway. And tonight I realized that the pain I was feeling was a good pain. Because it meant I did not close myself off. I opened my heart to the people and the land of Samoa. I opened myself to experience and to change, and I have been changed by Samoa. When my homestay mother was giving me one final parting gift, she said “You may forget Samoa, but we will never forget you. This gift is so you never forget Samoa.” But as I am writing this I can tell you I will never forget Samoa. I will never forget the incredible women I met and aspire to be like, the fun times in the back of the bus, or the handprint Samoa has made upon my heart. Who needs Starbucks anyway?

Mat weaving has long been an integral part of Samoan culture. Photo: Korrie (Messiah '13)

Kerry (Gordon '12) and Anna (Indiana Wesleyan '12) adorned their puletasis. Photo: Anna (Indiana Wesleyan '12)

Another Student Reflection: Kaikoura Homestays

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Gina (Messiah '13) writes: This past weekend during our home-stay visits with CCSP, Max and I stayed with Eric & Joy from Kaikoura. They live one block away from the shore, so most of our time was spent in the water. Eric and his son have a lot of experience with diving for crayfish, paua, and butterfish, so Eric took Max and I on a diving adventure. We suited up with our snorkel gear and wetsuits and spent a few hours out in the water hunting for crayfish. After a long day on the beach, the four of us shared a nice tea and fruit salad before we spent hours watching the “Sevens” rugby tournament. I have never seen that sport played before so I found it very bizarre/exciting. 

        On Sunday, we attended “The Vineyard” church, which Eric is the pastor of, and stayed a few hours after the service for a lunch of fellowship. This lunch was one of the most enjoyable aspects of my weekend with the Koops. We were able to converse with and get to know the people of the community who I would most likely not come across while spending time downtown. Every single member of this church is incredibly friendly and I love to hear about their crazy stories and experiences in life. Each person seemed to own an interesting past which ultimately brought them to a relationship with God and becoming a member of this church. I hope to continue to strengthen my relationships with these people while I am living in New Zealand.

         After the church lunch, Eric and Joy took Max and I out on their boat and we rode around the Kaikoura peninsula. The views were absolutely breathtaking and I unfortunately forgot my camera! It was the most enjoyable boat ride I have ever had. We anchored the boat somewhat close to shore, and went snorkeling once again. Something I strongly enjoyed about the family that I stayed with was their laid-back personalities and enjoyment of simply “being” together. We did not need to converse with each other in order to be comfortable and enjoy each other’s company. We simply sat on the boat together, drank tea, and observed the beautiful scenery. The days spent with Eric and Joy were very peaceful and gave me a chance to relax and reflect on my experience here thus far. Living with a family for the weekend was a perfect way to experience the New Zealand culture in a genuine way as well as feeling a tiny bit closer to home and my own family. 

A Student Reflection: Kaikoura Homestays

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Stacey (Westmont '12) writes: “Why do sheep grow so much hair?” I asked farmer Kevin Topp as we grind our way, zigzagging across a bulldozed trail through the grass and manuka scrub, up the side of a grassy wacky-greyrock ridge on his bright red Suzuki ATV. Ordinarily, he’d be using the vehicle—a modern replacement for horses which, while not so trail-savvy, revs up much quicker on foggy early mornings than sleepy animals demanding a saddle and a harness and a nosebag—to round up his herd of beef cattle ranging across the steep limestone hillsides, created by continual tectonic pressure on the geological fault line running through the river below. Today, though, we’re hitching a ride up to the backcountry “hut” that he built back in the 80s for quiet wilderness retreats and a starting point for ambitious backpackers (“trampers”) bound for the gray, scree-sided peaks jutting proudly towards the clear sapphire sky above his farm. Kevin goes on to tell me about how in Biblical times, people used sheep skins more than the thin hair that the animals carried then. Even in the dead of winter, the sheep really only need about an inch of wool to stay warm—but thanks to generations of breeding and careful selection, the domesticated animals grow a surplus of thick wool several inches long.

Small wonders, like the fact that sheep grow absurd amounts of hair—fortunate for me, being able to don my wool jersey (sweater) in a sudden cold “southerly”—were the highlights of our homestay weekend with the Topps. Slowing down and tasting the honeydew on a blackened birch trunk, the product of a parasitic bug that extends silk-fine fingerlets from beneath the bark, or the embracing the absurd joy of running Sandy’s herd of aging Labradors (and a terrier named Ant) down to the river for a rough-and-tumble game of fetch in the clear cold water running into the Puhi Puhi (pronounced “pooey-pooey” in Kiwiland, to our continual amusement) beneath gnarled old trees and the afternoon sun glittering off the water.

Small joys like stopping, while on the rounds of never-ending farm chores, and smiling at the antics of the hens (and my continual confusion with the “chickens,” who are not the hens and aren’t yet allowed to eat kerneled wheat) pecking at each other in the race to reenter the musty, dusty dark of the coop before dark. Small pleasures like a tennis lesson in the last dying minutes of a fiery 360 degree sunset over Kaikoura town far below the sloping valley walls, or standing before an ancient totara tree that might have been a sapling when Jesus walked the earth. Small blessings like fresh cherry tomatoes (“that’ll put hair on your chest!” Kevin says, to my dismay) or clear cold spring water or the way a contented cat rubs its velvety ears on the backs of your hands.

Or stopping, dropping all the chores, the unfolded laundry and unwashed dishes, to watch the Sevens Rugby World Cup championship (in which the All-Blacks soundly beat the English). In New Zealand, the world stops, sheep go unsheared, and chickens go unfed for two things: rubgy, and a good pavlova. 

But sometimes, it even slows down enough to show two American students the everyday hospitality, courtesy and occasionally sarcastic wit characteristic of Kiwi whanau (family) life. 

Lisa's Wet and Wild Birthday Race

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Photo: Stacey (Westmont '12)

Our beloved, local friend and family member, Lisa, loves reading about the Amish. None of us are actually of Amish practice, but we adopted some of their ways, maybe modified them and turned it into one birthday party to remember.

Travis was the first to snag a chicken.

Photo: Stacey (Westmont '12)

A couple things we know about the Amish are that they are an earthy people, meaning they work the land, raise animals, etc. and they are a crafty people who have a reputation for incredible quilt-making skills. These traits, coupled with some not-so-Amish-but-fun-anyways events made for a wet and wild race that had everyone laughing.

Bobbin' for peaches.

Photo: Stacey (Westmont '12)

The order of events were as follows:

1) Three-legged and sack races

2) Gumboot chucking

3) Sewing a quilt square

4) Bobbing for peaches

5) Hog calling

6) Corn shucking

7) Chicken catching

Anna stitching the quilt. 

Photo: Stacey (Westmont '12)

Note: In no way do we mean to show any disrespect toward the Amish community. We are fully aware they don't run around chasing chickens all day.

Sustainable Community Development (Part I)

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What happens when 14 North American students convene in a New Zealand classroom originally built as a chapel for nuns, later converted into a French-style bed and breakfast, and are taught by a Kiwi (New Zealander) who shares stories from his time in the Philippines? 

A whole lot of learning, laughing and looks of confusion when Professor Mick Duncan says something strange with his New Zealand accent. 

Our initial course, Sustainable Community Development looks at the relationships we have with those around us. In order to do so, we cover topics of war, politics, poverty and more. In the weeks to come we will look at how people can work together to make better places to live in. 

Mick is a tremendous teacher and story-teller, but his one-liners really penetrate the heart and mind.

Here is a brief sampling:

"Don't be dismissive, rather be discerning."

"Hurrying will damage your closest relationships." 

"Don't be just a believer, be a behaver.