Talofa to all from Samoa. It is 9 pm and we are all sitting by the pool waiting our next cocktail and the 9:00 plane arrival from Hawaii with more members of our party. Hopefully all their luggage will arrive--one member of our party is still wearing the clothes she wore here as her luggage didn't follow her from Nigeria.
We had a very productive day for a Sunday, the prescribed day of rest here. All store are closed and only a few cabs and taxis are running. It is very quiet.
A few volunteers returned to the hut for some fine tuning of our new surgical home tomorrow--attaching oxygen hoses and hanging hooks and fluid bags. We should be ready for our first blast of patients tomorrow morning. One of the locals will be manning the front desk, similar to a Walmart greeter, to help with the language barrier. The Samoan alphabet has only 16 letters consisting of mostly vowels, K's. M's and N's. It is a beautiful language and very soothing to the ears.
The New York/Boston contingency went hiking to the top of the local National Park leaving early in the early morning dressed in all black- typical for New Yorkers. It was a humid day as usual and they returned slightly wilted but happy and well hydrated.
The remainder of us hung by the beach relaxing and gathering our strength for tomorrow before heading to Tisa's Barefoot Bar, well known local hangout. Famous for their Pina Coladas, but, alas, there is a shortage of Rum on the island. The surf is a bit treacherous and there is a short briefing prior to allowing the tourists to set out to the sea. The sharp coral reef and the treacherous current sweep many innocent, lackadaisical snorklers out to sea. Luckily only a couple members of our party popped their heads up like turtles astounded to find they were near the 'point of no return' where they get swept out to sea. Luckily with heavy flailing, much splashy kicking, and a few panicked moments, they were able to make it safely back to shore.
Tisa, wizened female chief of her village, instructed us on making plates out of palm trees. Despite the average 8-10 years of college we have each endured, the plate making technique had to be slowed down to the Mr. Rogers level and demonstrated in slow motion. The shrimp, fish-papaya kebobs and fried plaintain chips were delicious.
We also met the local ER doctor whom we are hoping to not visit. Very nice guy who is handy with a camera and a rowdy group of veterinarians on the beach (see picture above).
We saw the fire dancers last night--amazing show of local dancers performing traditional village/tribal dancers that tell a story. Behind the graceful young women is a crazy, loud overly caffeinated man whose function we haven't quite been able to ascertain. The buffet created by our favorite cook, Tony, was fantastic and very filling. Sandy, a lead member of our party, won the contest for the tourists with fanatical cheering and we will all share the bottle of champagne she earned. We have yet to see her pole dancing she's been training for but it is early in the trip ........
(Blogged by Becky)
We had a very productive day for a Sunday, the prescribed day of rest here. All store are closed and only a few cabs and taxis are running. It is very quiet.
A few volunteers returned to the hut for some fine tuning of our new surgical home tomorrow--attaching oxygen hoses and hanging hooks and fluid bags. We should be ready for our first blast of patients tomorrow morning. One of the locals will be manning the front desk, similar to a Walmart greeter, to help with the language barrier. The Samoan alphabet has only 16 letters consisting of mostly vowels, K's. M's and N's. It is a beautiful language and very soothing to the ears.
The New York/Boston contingency went hiking to the top of the local National Park leaving early in the early morning dressed in all black- typical for New Yorkers. It was a humid day as usual and they returned slightly wilted but happy and well hydrated.
The remainder of us hung by the beach relaxing and gathering our strength for tomorrow before heading to Tisa's Barefoot Bar, well known local hangout. Famous for their Pina Coladas, but, alas, there is a shortage of Rum on the island. The surf is a bit treacherous and there is a short briefing prior to allowing the tourists to set out to the sea. The sharp coral reef and the treacherous current sweep many innocent, lackadaisical snorklers out to sea. Luckily only a couple members of our party popped their heads up like turtles astounded to find they were near the 'point of no return' where they get swept out to sea. Luckily with heavy flailing, much splashy kicking, and a few panicked moments, they were able to make it safely back to shore.
Tisa, wizened female chief of her village, instructed us on making plates out of palm trees. Despite the average 8-10 years of college we have each endured, the plate making technique had to be slowed down to the Mr. Rogers level and demonstrated in slow motion. The shrimp, fish-papaya kebobs and fried plaintain chips were delicious.
We also met the local ER doctor whom we are hoping to not visit. Very nice guy who is handy with a camera and a rowdy group of veterinarians on the beach (see picture above).
We saw the fire dancers last night--amazing show of local dancers performing traditional village/tribal dancers that tell a story. Behind the graceful young women is a crazy, loud overly caffeinated man whose function we haven't quite been able to ascertain. The buffet created by our favorite cook, Tony, was fantastic and very filling. Sandy, a lead member of our party, won the contest for the tourists with fanatical cheering and we will all share the bottle of champagne she earned. We have yet to see her pole dancing she's been training for but it is early in the trip ........
(Blogged by Becky)
1 comment:
Beck: Better watch that surgery hand by blogging so much. Short on rum, an outrage! Mr. Depp would never put up with this. Do wonderful things! You guys are great! Michelle
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