Wednesday, July 24, 2013

On Getting Here



Although being out of work for 11 months led to feelings of a meaningless existence, I needed that time off to do some serious decompression.  I am going to assume that I achieved a necessary goal in that time off because I am now filled with excitement at having cases to work on.  Can it be that I am enjoying being a lawyer again?  And, perhaps, my feelings are intensified by being in a brand new environment.  Years of a stressful grind had taken their toll, and a major factor in the decision to come here was for me to  S-L-O-W   D-O-W-N. 

Getting here was an adventure. Slowing down  is compelled by the notion of fa'a (fah-ah) Samoa - the Samoan way, which is very very slow, and that was part of the adventure.  Included in the notion of adventure is the unknown in what lies ahead.  I don’t know what’s going to happen; where all the twists and turns are.  It started with my plane tickets.   I only received my plane tickets within 12 hours of my flight’s departure.  You may recall that I was originally scheduled to depart June 24th, but that didn’t happen until almost a month later.  Fa’a Samoa.  “When are you leaving?”  “I don’t know.”  “Where will you be living?”  “I don’t know.”  The not knowing can be maddening, but part of the calming – the Buddhist Way, if you will – it to just be cool with the way things are in the moment.  So learning to feel that way with the delay in beginning the journey was an exercise in growth.

The travel was wearying. My itinerary was Atlanta – Las Vegas – Honolulu – Pago Pago, American Samoa, roughly totaling 16 hours in the air.  Adding the time on the ground – getting to the airport, walking to and from the gate and baggage claim, e.g. - stretched the travel time even further.  The flight to Vegas was cramped, moreso on account of how big a guy I am. But, we had a tailwind and made good time. Had a 3 hour layover in Vegas – not my favorite place. I have friends who love Vegas, and that’s cool, but I just don’t get it. Of course they have slot machines all over the airport terminal, and, in the smoking room I watched a woman futilely pump $100 bills into one of those slot machines. It’s just kinda creepy to me, and I was glad to get out of there. I brought lots of store-bought beef jerky to eat and save my money for other things. I’m beginning to think that was a mistake, because of all the sodium. Plus, I drank too many diet cokes – more sodium. Ugh.

The flight to Honolulu was somewhat more comfortable with a wider seat and much more legroom.  On both flights I had aisle seats on the inside row, so I didn’t have a view out the window.  The view I did have, though, was of the rows of people ahead of me.  Other than takeoffs and landings, there was no sense of movement.  It was simply surreal to be aware that we were a bunch of people stuffed like sardines into a long, round metal tube moving faster than 4/5ths the speed of sound and more than 7 miles in the sky.


I got into Honolulu exhausted after more than 24 hours of travel.  It didn’t help that the arrival gate was at one end of the airport and baggage claim was a walk to the other end.  The adventure of the unknown continued with, now that I’m in Honolulu and I have my bags, what do I do now?  How do I figure out where to go, where to stay – especially being disoriented from having been up so long and enduring the traveling?  An airport police officer came to my rescue, leading me to a bank of phones with numbers of nearby hotels with shuttle service.  I was finally able to get to bed.

The Hawaiian Air flight attendants were more genuinely friendly and that flight was one of the more pleasant I’ve experienced. Here at the hotel, The Best Western Plaza, all the folks are friendly. When you want to know what the locals like to do, where they like to go for the best and cheapest food, there’s no better source of advice than the combined advice of hotel service people. Of course they all have their own personalities and some I’d love to hang out with and shoot the breeze, but they are all very kind and friendly. I am so fortunate to have so many friends who are genuinely kind and friendly. But I know so many people who are just plain mean, or, worse, mean, thinly disguised under a veil of kindness. Those are such a disappointment and I can damn name names, too. I am well aware of my tendency toward naiveness, but I am looking for on this adventure a vein of genuine kindness, joy and peace from the Polynesians I meet.  At the hotel I was not disappointed.




In Honolulu I rented a sweet little Mitsubishi Eclipse convertible to tool around the streets and do some exploring .  I visited a couple of Buddhist monasteries.  Plus, I have recommendations from the locals about where to find the best genuine native foods. Last year, I sold my Compac 19 sailboat to a fellow from Rayne, Louisiana. Rayne’s about an hour the other side of Baton Rouge. The outboard that went with the boat was in the shop at the time, so, when I got it out, being the lover of a good road trip that I am, Maddie, my faithful Golden, and I headed out to deliver the motor. The guy I sold the boat to was a true Cajun. His name was Lonnie Simoneaux. After we had concluded our business, I asked him where the locals go to get their food, like boudin, that most excellent Cajun rice sausage. He told me and when I went, it didn’t look anything like a tourist riding by would want to pull into. This is probably much like the reputation Striplings Sausage from Warwick, GA once had before it got famous enough to open a store in Athens. I bought lots of excellent Cajun food at that store. Anyway, I got the name of a local place, Marukai Wholesale, to go here for some good native Hawaiian food, and when I mentioned to another local that a visit to Marukai Wholesale was on my agenda for today, his eyes just lit up and he said, “Excellent, excellent. They have real good food.” I’m looking forward to some good poke (Po-kay, not to be confused with our southern poke salad). Can you tell I’m taking it easy. Slowing down enough to take the time to write something like this. I hope it gets to be a habit.

After a day and a half in Honolulu, I boarded the nearly 6 hour flight to Pago Pago, American Samoa.  There is no ramp at the Pago Pago airport.  Instead deplaning is via a staircase they roll up to the plane out on the tarmac.  I was rainy and windy, with the rains coming in horizontal bursts.  Also on that flight was my boss, his wife and their 4 young children, along with his mother-in-law.  We were met at the airport by Junior, a hulk of a man, who is one of the investigators at the office.  After helping everyone else get on their way, Junior took me to my apartment at Freddie’s Beach.  Here are some images, from another blogger, of the apartment complex where I live:  http://www.jzsexcellentadventure.com/2010/02/freddys-beach.html

Taking it slow, I am nevertheless seriously conflicted by my excitement at being here. Most people here speak both English and Samoan.  But, get some Samoans together and they speak Samoan among themselves.  I intend to learn the language.  Plus there's new flora and fauna to learn about, snorkeling, fishing, mountain climbing, maybe even some gardening… 

Next:  First Impressions:  My Apartment and the Beach

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