My Frame of Mind

I spent this past weekend cleaning my apartment.  It was reasonably clean when I moved in, but that I hadn’t done a thorough cleaning had been bugging me.  So, I swept and mopped the floors and cleaned the walls, and now I that vexation has been removed.  I haven’t had any income since I’ve been here and have been reluctant to spend any money on things I could get by without.  So, finally I spent about $120 on cleaning, supplies, including a mop, broom and doormats.

A view of the barebones dining and living area of my apartment. 

Beer, cigarettes and Free Cell.

Right now, my apartment is barebones.  As I said, I’ve been reluctant to spend any money in fixing it up, and the feeling is that I’m living something of a monastic life.  I have water, and soap, a nice bed to sleep in, a porcelain throne, a medicine cabinet, all my meds refilled, so I really am not wanting of any necessities.  My living arrangements are entirely adequate. But, that’s not say there can’t be improvements.  And, there will be.   By and by.

Don’t you think a nice rug would warm the place up?  And, how about a wall hanging over the sofa?  Curtains?  Intuitively it works for this room to have the sofa and chairs arranged on the other side.  But, having the room arranged like this takes advantage of the view outside.  Plus, football season is upon us and I need a television, which I’ll place on the small table on the right side of this picture.  Football is huge in American Samoa, what with the popularity of NFL stars like Troy Polamalu of the Pittsburgh Steelers, to name just one example.  To have football, I’ll need cable.  I also need cable to have home broadband internet.  Right now, I only have broadband at work and on my iPhone.  The iPhone is good for reading emails, but not so much for sending messages.  With home broadband, I can keep up with things better, posting more timely blogs, for example, and staying connected to my friends back home, who I miss very much.

One view from my deck.  Note the taro plants.  It appears that someone planted them, as they are in a row beside a little garden spot

Another view off my deck.  This is a papaya tree, and as the fruit ripens, I expect a visit from a flying fox.

The view outside my bathroom window is of a tropical jungle.  Literally.  A tropical jungle.

More on this monastic life, thing.  My life here has forced me to slow down.  For example, there’s just my bare apartment.  It’s where I can lay my head.  It’s where I can do some reading and writing and playing a whole lot of Free Cell.  What is the need in getting stressed out about what I don’t have and what I am not likely to have any time soon.  I have been compelled to just let that stuff go, and there’s freedom in letting that stuff go.  I am not bound by the desire to have this or that right now.  A good example is simply writing these words.  I am on a laptop.  I am not a proficient typist.  I make a lot of mistakes, and it can be trouble to constantly have to go back and correct my mistakes.  But, I refuse to let it be trouble.  And, that’s a lesson learned which is applicable to my dealings with others as well. 

If someone wants to be mean or ugly, I am better able to let that go.  I am sure there are limits to my ability to let it go, but it is liberating to not be all hot and bothered by some other’s poor behavior.  Instead, I just chalk it up to that person being who that person is, and not making it my problem by getting all hot and bothered.  And, all that is just what I came here for.

Life here is slow.  The traffic is slow.  If you are in a hurry, then you will merely be stressed and not arrive where you are going one minute sooner. Because the main road largely follows the contour of the bay, it is twisty and turny.  You cannot drive fast.  And, there’s an added compensation to the lack of cortisol production: the views.  Looking up at the thickly forested mountains you can see the path that an occasional waterfall cuts down the side.  Or, looking out over the ocean.  I’ve mentioned the breathtaking color of the water, the rolling surf with its humongous breaking waves.  To be stressed on the drive would be to deprive myself of the richness of the environment.  Better to just let the stress go.  Better to dream about what it would be like out there on the surface of the ocean in a sailboat, or wandering what it was that drove the native Polynesians to brave the sea in search of who knows what and populating the outlying islands, which cannot be seen from here?  Or to imagine what the views must be like from the side of the mountain.  Here, on this island, there is precious little horizontal ground.  Imagine what the sounds and smells are from inside those tropical jungles in the mountains.

In any event, this has been my take of the experience so far.  It feels as if I’ve undergone something of psychological change.  Is it my attitude, my feelings, my perspective, or what?  I am more relaxed, less stressed, and wasting less worry on things I don’t need to be worried about.  It feels like some much-needed healing is being done.

Doctor Visit

Years of way too much stress have taken their toll on my health.  Still, I have no regrets.  I’ve been fortunate enough to have made a positive and, I hope, lasting impression on many people’s lives.  For a long time I treated my calling as a public defender as one worth dying for, just as we send soldiers into war who get maimed and die for our rights and our way of life.  My job as a Public Defender lies at the nexus of where those rights and the individual come together, which can and is often a turbulent spot in our culture.  Mine and that of other people who’ve dedicated their lives to indigent defense, is a special calling, and one of great stress.  The stress caught up with me, with ballooning weight, high blood pressure and diabetes.  I came to American Samoa to slow down, and, my life here has become something of a monastic one.  It’s just what I needed, and I am happy to report that, in the first two weeks I was down 13 pounds, my latest blood pressure was perfect at 119/59 and my blood sugar was perfect at 108.  As I’ve said to many people, I intend to return from this adventure a skinny man, and it looks like I’m off to a strong start.

I had originally been scheduled to leave Royston for here June 24, so, I went to my drug store there and had all my prescriptions refilled to give me a month to get settled in, find a doctor and make connections.  But, because I didn’t leave until almost a month later I ran out of a couple of meds soon after my arrival, and, since it would be another week or two before I could see my new doctor here, I had to make a visit to the emergency room.  There was no emergency other than just needing refills on a couple of meds.

All of the medical business for the island takes place at the Lyndon Baines Johnson Tropical Medical Center.   They are able to adequately provide most routine health care.  However, more advanced or complicated treatment must be had off-island.  That typically involves a plane ride to Hawaii, or, maybe Australia or New Zealand. 

I went to a party the other night and met a young palagi couple (palagi is the word for white folks, typically American) who had only recently arrived from the states for the husband’s 2 year gig as a prosecutor for the Attorney General’s office.  Here, there is no District Attorney’s office.  Instead all the criminal prosecutions are handled in the criminal division of the AG’s office.  The wife of the young couple is pregnant, and looks to be maybe a little further than half-way along.  She intends have her baby, their first, at LBJ on the island.  How exciting!  Dual citizenship and all that!  “Where were you born?”  “American Samoa.” “Where the hell is that?”  Folks have been having babies on this island for a long, long time.

The prerequisite for all medical treatment, doctor visits, optometrist visits, prescription drugs, etc., for us contract government employees is to obtain a medical card.  I had done this the day before and doing it had been something of a minor adventure.  First, I had to show a copy of my contract to receive a card.  Then I had to find the office which issues the card.  Not having any idea about how to go about doing that, I went to the administrative office.   Just as a security guard had provided invaluable assistance in Honolulu, a security guard for the hospital helped direct me.  The administrative office then sent me through the maze that is typical of a hospital until I found the records window.  I was also there to pick up a psychological evaluation for one of our clients, which was also handled at the records window.  Two birds conveniently with one stone at the same window.

The emergency room is where many people on the island go for their primary medical care.  Most only go when they have an immediate need to see a doctor.  Thus, it tends to be full all the time, and there’s typically a longish wait.   All the seats in the waiting area were taken and I had to stand during my wait.  But they worked me in pretty quickly.  There was a $30 fee for the ER. They didn’t have one of my meds, but they were able to reproduce it with a combination of two others, so, other than involving a couple of trips between the pharmacy, which is located inside the hospital, and the ER doctor, I got my refills.  Refills were $20 each, so that set me back another $80. 

There are “drug” stores around the island but, they do not dispense prescription meds.  Rather, they’re the source for over-the-counter remedies.  The prescription meds are dispensed through the hospital pharmacy.  And, the way that works is this.  Upon arriving at the pharmacy, prescription in hand, walk up and take a number ticket from the little dispenser, just like getting gift wrapping at Macy’s.  After a looonnnggg wait, when your number flashes on the LED screen, walk up, hand the clerk your ticket and prescription, and they fill it while you stand there.  Pay them and you are on your way.

About a week later I was able to see my doctor, Dr. Sean.  He’s a really cool guy.  He’s been on the island for 6 years.  He got his medical training while he was in the army.  Once he finished medical school, he served out the remainder of his tour of duty to fulfill his obligation for the expense of medical school.  When he mustered out, he was debt free.  Not having a $200,000+ debt from medical school allowed him to come to American Samoa and help the poor people here for substantially less pay than he would make in the states.  So, that’s pretty cool in my book.  There was no charge to see the doctor, as it’s covered under my contract, which was a nice touch.

Next:  My Frame of Mind

Picture Day!

I moved picture day up a day, so this isn't Doctor Visits.  Click on a picture to enlarge it.

This, people, could be considered a sacred plant.  It is cacao, the source of chocolate!

 

Closeup of a cone ginger flower.

 

Red hibiscus.

The dirt on this mountain side, saturated by recent rains, gave way and this landslide resulted.  The road was blocked off for a little while.  It happened about 7:30 a.m. on the main road.

A well-kept yard.  Note the young tree fern.

Here is how a rock-filled landscape is mowed.  The lava rock would play hell with a lawn mower.  And, by the way, the grass is centipede – the same as we have in our yard in Royston.  Only, theirs doesn’t turn brown in winter.

A fale (pronounced Fah Lay).  A fale is an open-sided structure divided into rooms by screens, or simply by placement of furniture.  It is a home.  The open sides allow the cooling breeze to pass through.

Papaya tree.

The fish doesn’t get any fresher.  These guys surf fish and have set up a stand by the main road to market their catch.  This fellow’s name is “Praise.”

A Methodist church.  When I get a car, I’ll do a whole series of photographs of churches, another of buses, then fales, and front yard graves.

Walls are popular landscape features.

Bright and shiny new out of the box just three weeks ago, alas, my fan has fallen victim to the salt in the air.  The salt in the air exists as minute crystals.  It coats the windshield of the car overnight, and that creates a glare when driving into the sun that makes the road ahead of you impossible to see

The gravesite of a former village high chief (matai – pronounced Mah Tie) and his wife.  In the middle of the village.

 Next:  Doctor Visits

Palagis

I’ve been fortunate in my life to have had a few ineffable experiences.   “Ineffable” is one of my favorite words because it is a word used to name a quality of experience that goes beyond any combination of words of any language to describe.  The biggest one of those experiences for me by far, because I was so totally unprepared for it, was the birth of my first child, J.D.  The births of both my children – a shout out to Samantha – were ineffable experiences.

A personal note to my children here:  Your births inspired me beyond description, and I never wanted to be anything less than the perfect father to you.  In striving to be the perfect father, I made mistakes in your upbringing.  Please know that I meant nothing short of the best, whether I bungled some things miserably or got others right.  Please forgive me for those things I got way wrong.  I assure you, those mistakes were the farthest thing from intentional you can get.  But, ultimately where you are right now is with the fact that whatever you got from me is what you’ve got: positive and negative.  Strive to overcome the negatives and make the best of those remarkable qualities you do have as human beings.  And you each have some of the most remarkable qualities as human beings that I’ve ever seen, and I am in absolute awe of the grownups you two have become.   And, I will tell you this:  I will take to my grave the image of your births etched indelibly into my mind – not the physical aspect, but the profound emotional one – as the two greatest things that ever happened to me in my life.  And y’all know I’ve been lucky enough to have done some cool things.

I enjoy talking to parents expecting their first child.  They are typically concerned with how do they find a competent babysitter, how to decorate the nursery, will it hurt much, to breastfeed or not, what if I can’t, who’s going to handle the nightly feedings, etc.   But, once their firstborn has arrived, none of that matters.  The birth of a child is an experience that goes beyond words, and the only way to share it is with others who’ve had the same experience.  Then, all that is to be said about the experience is, “I know.”  It’s ineffable.

I got my first hint of the ineffable in college when one of my guppies gave birth.  My roommate and I were both into aquariums, and we had four in our dorm room.  He had a 20 gallon tall aquarium between our beds and a 10 gallon on his desk.  I had a 10 gallon on my desk and a 5 gallon on the back of my bed. 

One morning my roommate awoke to exclaim, “Joel!  All my fish are dead!”  What had happened was the 20 gallon had sprung a leak, all the water had drained out, and all the fish were lying lifeless on the bottom.  We were on the third floor and it was a bright, cloudless day.  The guy below us had looked out his window and had seen the water running down the glass, so he took his umbrella to class!  Anyway, back to the guppy story. 

I had a pregnant guppy, and as her delivery became imminent, I had placed her by herself into the 5 gallon tank, so no other fish could make a quick and delicious snack of the newborns.  Guppies are live-bearers.  That is, they don’t lay eggs.  And I had the good fortune of being in the room when the live-bearing began.  Out plops a tiny miniature guppy, then another, and another, and so on until the tank was full of teeny tiny fish.  Where once there was only one fish in the tank, the pregnant female, now there were two or three dozen.  It was an ineffable experience.

I had another ineffable experience while in college, and I should mention that is Valdosta State in the most glorious times of the mid-seventies.  I was a Speech and Drama major with Radio-TV-Film emphasis.  I am proud of my BFA in Theater Arts!  Anyway, one of the requirements for my degree was to participate in one of the quarterly mainstage productions.   The play we presented was “Born Yesterday.”  Since I was working basically full time at the NAPA store, I had little time to devote to learning lines, so I was made stage manager.  A stage manager is the person backstage who’s responsible for seeing that everyone makes their timely entrance and that the stage is set properly and all the props are where they should be.  I remember little of what I did as stage manager, but I have never forgotten the ineffable bonding between the cast and crew members.  There’s just something about sharing a highly emotionally charged situation that is impossible to convey.  The bonding of troops in war has to be indescribably more intense.  But the bonding shared by all of us doing “Born Yesterday” was something very special, indeed.  I’ve had the great pleasure now to have experienced the same feeling on other occasions when I’ve acted in various stage productions.  It’s always the same – ineffable. 

I’ll bet, too, that you have your stories of ineffable bonding, especially that feeling you have of bonding with, say, your fellow DFACS workers who, how many times a day ask each other, “Can you believe this shit?” because nobody in ordinary life is witness to some of the horrors you face almost on a daily basis.  Anyhow, these kinds of experiences, whether you are conscious of them in your life or not – and I do hope you are – give life its ineffable richness.

I am in American Samoa on a two year contract.  There are a number of other palagis here for various lengths of time, some for 8 months, one year, toe years etc.  Some find life here son enjoyable they extend their contracts of find new contracts.  This all results in a number of comings and goings, and usually the goings are a time to get together to bid each other a fond farewell.  You may recall from an earlier post that the word “palagi” refers to an off-islander, typically white folks.  “Palagi” is pronounced Pah-Lahn-Ghee – with a hard “g.”  In Samoan, “g” is always pronounced by adding an “n’ before it.  So Pago Pago is pronounced “Pahngo Pahngo” for example.  In any event, I went to a going away party the other night.

Lisa was the one going away.  She has been here on a one year contract as a clerk for the Chief Justice of the High Court.  Lisa didn’t want to leave.  The room was full of young palagis.  I met Ved, who is from I don’t recall where, who is a lawyer with the EPA.  I met Celia, who came here as a criminal prosecutor with the Attorney General’s office who, once her gig was done in that office, found a spot as Counsel for the Department of Commerce, so, she’s staying on.  I met Tony, whose wife is pregnant with their first child, and who’s a prosecutor in the AG’s office.  There was Brian, another clerk for the High Court, of Indian descent – the subcontinent – who’s from Chicago and who’s headed back to Chicago shortly.  Colley, a scientist here studying the myna bird.  Mynas are great mimics and are often kept as pets for their ability to repeat human words.  The myna is kin to the starling, but much prettier, and is an invasive species here on the island.  Colley will be leaving here in a week or two, as will her fellow scientist Emily, after an 8 month gig studying birds.  I met Miles, who’s studying the two island species of flying foxes – the fruit bats, and who is a long timer, something like 6 years.   He told me about how special it is to hold a baby flying fox.

And, there were others: Moss, of Korean descent and who is from California, was hosting the party.  Moss is a young AAG prosecutor with a helluva dj system.  His roommate, Julie, is also a young AAG prosecutor.  Julie, from Manhattan, is going to represent American Samoa in a Judo tournament coming up in Brazil.  Then there’s Mike (not the Mike who is my coworker) who’s dating Julie, and who was born and raised in South Africa of Swedish parents who arrived here via the circuitous route of Sweden, Canada and Mexico to study the corals.  He is a sailor who also teaches SCUBA.  There was another Lisa at the party from the office of Public Health.  The two youngest lawyers from my office, Karen, who’s been on the island for about 18 months, and who is a fountain of information about how to get around the island,  and Mathew, who got here a month before I did, were there as well.  Plus, there were other palagis there I didn’t get to meet.   Also there was Edwin, who is a native Samoan, but who’s been practicing law in a civil firm in Vegas for the past 15 years, and is now returning to his homeland to work in the AG’s office.

Moss and Julie live in a neighborhood called Coconut Point.  They have a sweet little place from which you get a good look at the ocean.  American Samoa is ringed by coral reefs.  You can tell where the reef begins because that is where the waves break.  The reefs can lie anywhere from 100 to 300 yards offshore.  Inside the break the water is typically much calmer, and even suitable for paddle boarding.  It’s also a good place to snorkel.  Coconut Point is a high end place to stay because of its proximity to good water.  I like where I am, though, as it’s a lot cheaper, and I have decent access to the water.  Moss, and Julie had only lived there a couple of months.  Moss, being somewhat anal, had been on the ball tracing the comings and goings of the palagis, so he was on top of it when the apartment became available.  Like I said, it is sweet.

Edwin and I were the two oldest at the party, although I do have a few years on Edwin.  Despite my having a good 30 years on the average attendee, I felt perfectly at ease.  These guys have been here a while and have gotten to know each other pretty well.  Their shared experience has also obviously created a bond amongst them – at least as I imagine – that will be special to them the remainder of their lives.  You know, one of those ineffable things.  When I was telling my lovely and darling wife, Jan, about the party and discussing what a unique and shared experience these kids were having, she rightly remarked, “But they’re doing this at a young age, not leaving behind the responsibilities of a marriage and home commitment.”   Ouch for that astute and insightful observation.  Maybe she can join me later this year, once I have had more opportunity to take the lay of the island.

Next:  Doctor Visits