Just another new years

So, after a while, every new year, brings, just another new year:) Another year to grind hard, as my dad would put it, head down bum up (that is his expression of doing work..maybe at the office?? or in the garden?? not literally head down and bum above the level of your head, but perhaps head in a book or something??lol) anyways, so many things to do, not enough hands or finances to do it, so many ambitions, not nearly enough(at times) motivation:) If I had to recap last year, 2010= 2 weddings and a baby.
Yes, two big Samoan weddings, family weddings at da hotel and one new baby, all very expensive things to have embarked on so fair to say I am pretty sure our financial statement will show a big fat loss, but if you could put a price on 2 happily married couples and a beautiful baby girl, I guess you could say we made huge gains in 2011 (optomist in me and I am not usually an optomist!!)

On the same note, I am hoping, and so far I can only plan as far as no babies, no more huge fat losses in 2011:) only more gains please.
Things I need to do-
Brush up on my Samoan , seriously, this is costing me coz almost every other week, someone lands on my doorstep (and just to sway on this subject, in the last month, people landing on my doorstep has resulted in 3 pairs of shoes going missing from my doorstep- I mean seriously! i think some think this is a laughing matter but I wish I could SHAME SHAME SHAME the people that do it! this is not on and ONE DAY, i will have a camera security system, take your picture and post it on TVSAMOA ok...) so anyways, land on my doorstep demanding my subs, my contribution because I am a financial member of da village womans committee..for goodness knows what, and half the time I ask what its for, and some word I dont understand/have never heard and so will forget in 2 minutes, comes out "you know, the iko, the iko"..thats not the word but something like that that makes u go whhhaaaa??? And when asking what that is, answer is - dumbfounded look followed by "the IKO"..because saying it louder means Ill get it right??

anywayas..so yes, If I am to make myself more fluent, then perhaps I will be less easily fooled, as my baby sitter sometimes exclaims (she is also from da village) that she could not think of why someone (and I dont know all the people in the village) would collect $$ cos nothings being collected at the time (JUst me being a big fat sucker)

I really need to be excercising- My family have launched a fitness challenge for ourselves:) it involves money, fortnightly fees and penalties for gaining weight, a big reward for the biggest loser:) unfortunately there should probably be penalities for weight staying stagnant too, because I havent done any excercise in the last two weeks- crap!! reallllly want to though lol. I can sit here and 'think up" 20 different exciting routines involving sit ups, pilates, yoga as the sun rises, all that nice meditation get yourself in the zone type stuff, I can plan playlists that go for hours that make you wanna jump up and down and dance kick and punch...always the case aye, in your head youre like YEA YEA YEA I GAN DO IT...but in real life youre like ...ahh, ill just sleep another hour:) not that i sleep, more like i have cups of coffee, sit on my big butt and do nada...motion wise:) in saying that, im the lightest in the challenge so really, its really for everyone else he he he he!

Some other things i need (want ) to do
-more landscaping/planting
-create my own herb garden
-read up on homeschooling
- save up for my dream car
-do some part time work (yet again) at the hospital..when the little ones are older and not stuck to my boob and hip...
-make more dates wit my friends in Apia when I can make it over
- get myself a new wardrobe and toss out some of the -1)size 12 2) size 14 3) maternity style 4)when I was young and hip small shiney billabong boob tube types 5)NZ wardrobes that I continue to hoard in my wardrobe..
-get some new hobbies....seriously, I will need to creat them myself and urge other people to join, maybe kayaking or SOMETHING...because the lack of things to do in SAVAII can SERIOUSLY AFFECT YOUR MENTAL HEALTH..sometimes:) shhhh
-dats all I can think of for now, If you can think of anything else I should be doing, or you could recommend, please..feel free:)
take care

musings from da bush...

Dang it,
Finally get both my girls down for an afternoon nap AT the SAME time...and the darned computer wont hook up to the internet, so I'm faikakala/blog deprived today, and have had to resort to typing this blog on a word document (oh my lord) and saving it for an upload later (if it is lucky!!)

Life. Where has it gone?? one minute I was a rebellious teenager doing my thang on the Magretas dance-floor, having snuck out with my bestest cuzzin (folks are at some aglow meeting or something!) and the next I'm outrageously deprived of any time for myself, and insanely trying to divide what time I do have between family (two daughters) and Business..whoops, yea and the husband!lol! But he gets the last 10 minutes only of my day, especially when “hun did you remember to get my __from town that I asked” “what??no”.... “did you fix that leak I told you about this morning?” “when ??no” DID YOU DARN WELL DO ANYTHING I ASKED??...uhmm..cough...no..eh, forget it. What was I hoping would really happen?? that he would bow down to my every command and do all the things I asked??reality check- learn to do the plumbing and do it yourself if you want anything to get done ....so there. Resolution to the ongoing men are from mars women are from Venus, fiasco. Just do it yourself and who gives a hoot that men are from the inferior and insignificant mars, venus is actually a multitude of many parallel universes, and therefor woman are great at multitasking and taking on oh so many more roles then one ever would have light-heartedly expected, while trying to do the 'butterfly' move real 'low' on the margretas dance floor to impress some 'guy' 15yrs ago!!! Am I completely losing the plot yet??

ANYWAYS. Whats new and whats happening in the good ol bush here in Sa??? well...the elections are coming up. Once upon a time I couldn't give a hoot about elections. First, I was an ignorant teenager, and knew only what I heard people around me say, albeit a lot of here-say and hogwash I have to admit now, looking back. Then , I was in uni in NZ and annoyed at how the electorate office always managed to track me down like some fugitive bombarding me with letters to 'enroll to vote'!! At the time, this came across to me as just another assignment amongst all my uni assignments that I couldn't be arsed doing..i.e look up those running, read their campaigns etc...eh...and I wasn't really a NZ'er, I was just there for school and would so be gone soon enough anyway. Now, I find myself helping with the ongoing capade of carting people to the enrollment office to get registered. Now I could write a whole lengthy blog on this alone...but, eh...why rant?? In a nutshell my thoughts are

why cant people get themselves to the registry office?? seems to me that those who 'claim' they have no form of transportation are the same people I see 'ki'eki'e pasi-ing' during the week. Then, what is even more amusing is, as the bunch of people cram into my vehicle I later find out that 30% of them have already registered, they just came for the ride!!
has anyone realized the the so called bribery that(some) politicians are accused of doing to their voters, happens the other way around?? yup almost a year in advance, the requests come...i know this because people consider me and my husband running candidates just because our rely is running, and so the requests of airfare, loans, $$ to buy a car and the most outrageous one of all “to build him a house” are tirelessly refused by us, (even if we wanted to help the genuine requests, we do not have the $$$$) Seems to me that Samoans are developing a culture of elections = free rides, handouts and and opportunity to get something for nothing.

The one thing that really gets to me about our people (at times) is this idea that it is OK, to ask to get something for nothing. And that something is not just $20 bus fare, its $100 pocket money for a malaga, its for the airfare itself, its for a small loan, a fa'alavelave, a car that wants to be bought and a house...a grand almighty house....I don't think even the PM himself would be able to afford giving someone a house....i mean SERIOUSLY??
ah, I cant even be arsed being annoyed with this anymore. Just smile and nod (side to side nod meaning – NO)

Meanwhile, back in the Bush in the middle of the treasured islands of the pacific, I am making siamu popo. I thought it would be hard, but it aint. Its very flexible and no real measurements, if its too thin add this if its too thick more of the other, with only 2 main ingredients its difficult to get wrong often! The main thing is I LOVE IT, so am over the moon, that breakfast lunch and dinner I can eat it, on toast on masi on home made scones...fabuloso! Jam?? whats that again?? oh..unless its my own other venture of mango jam, also another hit but a tad more difficult to get the consistency right.
Anyways, that's all for now folks...do take care and keep your blogs updated!Fa laia!

The Savaiian Hotel Lalomalava Savaii SAMOA

My Sister...

A year ago from this month, I was woken from sleep to be told I needed to call my mum. She needed me to pull some hospital strings and find out what was going on with my little sister who had been in a car accident. They were at the emergency area of the hospital but did not really know what was going on. At first I thought it was all a joke, I think I was still half asleep at the time. After speaking to my somewhat hysterical and yet eerily calm mother, I instinctively played things down, she (my sis) was probably in shock and they were trying to get her out of it. Mum said ‘they’re trying to revive her or something...” so off I go explaining how shock works from accidents etc. At the furthest corner of my mind, a small shiver ran down my spine, please lord; don’t let them be actually trying to revive her in the worst way possible.
So I pulled some strings and got through to the doctors station on phone, through bluffing my way through operators who normally wouldn’t put you through to some areas of the hospital. A nurse answered the phone saying the doctors were all busy, but I managed to get them to grab someone, one of the youngest of the doctors there. For most of my short-lived doctor’s career, I have always paid particular attention to how people break bad news- news of shock, sadness, sorrow. Someone has cancer, someone didn’t have long, someone is scarred for life, debilitated forever and someone has died. Too often I’ve seen this sort of hugely intense information thrown at people, unpackaged, receivers unprepared. Not that I expect it to be pampered, just, eased if there is a way possible. The first few lines I got from the doctor, where along the lines of oh my god, it’s you, it’s your sister, oh no, that’s terrible, can you come?.....an opening statement like that can only indicate to one that further bad news is to come...in my head I’m calculating, I’m yet again playing things down, has she broken something, needs a massive operation, are the surgeons there, it’ll all be ok, we’ll stabilise her and fly her out to nz...she’ll be fine...then I ask her for the nitty gritty and the particulars, what exactly is wrong with her?
“Her pupils were fixed and dilated when she was brought in, she had no vitals, but we’ve been resusing her and got a heartbeat back”
For the average person this statement may seem a bit confusing, medical jargon, sure you’ll feel your gut twist at heartbeat, but for me, a medical person, this small statement will haunt me forever. It speaks volumes so intense that these little words had me break down into a hysteria...translation is = she was brought in dead....my husband tried to calm me down but couldn’t, i was a complete mess, demanding to know who was there thinking the best freaken docs had better be there, where is the anaesthetist, where is who...all in all, knowing, that the worst had been and gone for my sister. That we were past the point of no return already, no amount of fiapoko-ing or string pulling was going to bring back my beautiful little sister. It was a battle I was wanting to fight, but had already lost...

In the next week
I cried so much, for my sister -running through the sketchy particulars of her accident, her severe and several injuries which must have caused suffrage in her last moments of life, I cried for the life full of promise ahead of her that had been ripped away, the unborn children she had wanted to have, the big wedding she had dreamed of planning....I cried for my mum, who was in the process of losing her child ( my sister was kept on life support for 2 day s to await relies and friends from overseas) which is a sentence that should never be suffered upon a parent. I cried for my stepfather, who had developed an extremely warm and close relationship with my sister over the last few years, who had raised us with love and care, shared so many laughs and happy moments, with us, but mostly my little sister, who was beside himself at her bedside, in denial of the whole thing, not wanting to give up at all on her. I cried for our own father, who barely gets to see us because he lives overseas, who was here being the rock of the family, holding himself together only shedding an odd tear and a quivering hand while stroking his daughters limp hands by her bedside in a few sparse personal moments. You only had to look at his face to see his pain, he could try to keep it to himself but we could see it, written in the lines of his face ....I cried for my siblings, because I knew like me they were suffering the loss of our sister, our friend, another anatomical part of us who had been there from nappies to graduations... we 4 had grown up, argued, laughed ,cried, shared, hugged, explored ,ventured together for the last 20+ years. ..All of this had now been taken away, put a stop too...how does one make sense of this? This week was one of visitors, of huge outpourings, of pink and purple decorations, of hugs and tears, of friends and family...I had to write a eulogy, which was so difficult as I knew my sister always thought I was a good public speaker, and yet I could not come up with words that could do this sort of farewell justice...so I threw together a few mumbled sentences to bid her goodbye, which I hate, goodbyes...

In the next month
I quit my job. At my sisters funeral my mum mentioned my sisters several degrees and courses she had taken, commenting that all the schoolwork was an excuse to delay actually beginning to work in the big world, and that she thought my sister thought ‘employment’ was something that would just get in the way of her enjoying life. To some degree I have taken this philosophy on too. As my job was hindering just that, enjoying life, which to me was friends and family and happiness. If I can’t have that then what’s the point? In the next month I moped around our family home at Lotopa with my daughter, my infant daughter brought some cheer to a very gloomy home so we stayed. We offered my mum and family our physical support by just being there, eating together, watching telly together, none of us wanted to be alone. We cried in our own rooms, or when people came who could not make it to the funeral to offer there condolences. I felt sad, and angry, and confused, I couldn’t stop imagining the last few minutes of my sister’s life...it hurt so bad. I wrote some poetry, which is therapeutic for me sometimes, and to capture this moment in my life...

In the next year
I developed a slight phobia of being in cars. Especially travelling at more than 25mph. I couldn’t get my head around how fragile the human body is, and how in a split second the human body can be rendered useless and broken all at the mercy of an idiot driver... I panicked when people wanted to carry my daughter in the car instead of put her in a car seat, I sat bolt straight upright hugging my daughter unbeknownst to everyone, like she was wrapped in iron bars, when I didn’t have a car seat and held her myself. I missed my sister like crazy, every outing without her, every revelation she did not get to hear or be part of physically, every family occasion or celebration. I cried in my room, on my bed, in the car anywhere when a memory caught me off-guard. Usually all when no one was looking. I decided that friends and family would always be first in my life from now...no matter what.

My sisters unveiling is days away, and unfortunately I cannot be there as I am preparing to deliver child number two in freezing niusila, but I expect it will be nothing less than the big bash celebrations my mum is so renown for throwing- the best food and decorations and company...it will be a happy occasion, celebrating the beautiful life of my sister, but a sad occasion as well...as it is all still so near and raw and painful. I still don’t think the pain eases, you just learn to cope better, maybe you cry less...but it never stops hurting.