Trip journal - day 3

3 September 2005

The waiter was wrong (I think – I fell asleep almost immediately). I was right: the earplugs were a necessity. I heard muffled music when I awoke much much later.

We all woke up around 6-ish and couldn’t go back to sleep, so we got up and showered and went down to breakfast. The sun was bright on the ocean. We sat inside this time, but inside is kind of outside since there are few walls. Lots of open space. We had eggs and toast, with orange juice and Milo – unsweetened cocoa served with thick-crystal darkish sugar and a small pitcher of cream. The scrambled eggs included sautéed onions and tasted like they were made with cream, not milk. The sea breezes made for a pleasant, unrushed repast and an invigorating wake up.

As we ate, we watched several long white canoes go past us on the ocean with perhaps 30 men strongly rowing (practicing for a big race where they will row from miles away to finish in Apia – according to our driver yesterday).

After breakfast, we returned to the room to get sunglasses, and Caroline took pictures of a tiny Gecko on the wall next to the trash can in the kitchenette in our room. We went downstairs the back way and saw a man carving traditional designs on wooden columns on a pavilion behind the hotel. There also appear to be archery targets in the picnic field behind the bar from which emanated the “Island country” music last night.

We took another walk along the sea wall, this time going away from town. We encountered several families sweeping and cleaning up garbage on both sides of the wall. It’s almost as though they’re sweeping the front porch of their house all the way to the ocean (even though a road runs between their homes and the sea wall).

Caroline began counting Geckos (small lizards) on the rocks. She got past 20 by the time we finished our walk and were back at the hotel.

We also passed a group of young shirtless men who were walking on the road back toward town and who had apparently been rowing in one of the racing canoes. Many of them wore lava lava's (men’s wraparound skirts) which were wet. They all had muscular upper bodies, and most had tattoos that circled their biceps. As we continued our walk, we got closer to two racing canoes which were tied up 10 or 20 yards from the sea wall. It appears the men probably had to wade or swim to get to the shore.

Interesting how skirts on men are considered effeminate. Not here. After two days, I’m used to seeing many men wearing lava lava's (including our waiter last night and this morning).

We also passed a memorial to several seaman “killed in action”, one column for those on the “U.S.F.S. Philadelphia” and one for those on “H.M.S. Loyalist” (as I recall). The inscription said they died in 1899.

Back at the hotel, we snacked, Caroline worked on her puzzle book, and Cindy continued reading her Michener book (while I recorded this entry).

Later – I went on the Internet through the hotel office computer. I answered a couple of emails from Rick Moody (re 68th Ward business), and sent one to the boys, Kelly, and Beverly. I also checked in on the BYU game. Folks haven’t arrived yet.

Later – I sat at a table in the shade under the balcony reading my Book of Mormon on my PDA. Also waiting for the folks to arrive. I also watched two huge cranes offload huge containers off a ship, and taxis and other vehicles go by. Lots of trucks with people loaded in the back.

Cindy and Caroline came down around 12:30 pm and we had lunch. Cindy had the chicken curry bowl, Caroline had the chef salad, and I had fish and chips. The folks’ luggage arrived, and then they did. Mom and Dad are in room 10, Mark and Emily in 7, and Mindy and fam next door to us in 18. Sini came later (he had to get a white shirt for the dedication). He showed us how to open a young coconut, then passed them around with straws so we could drink the juice. He also shared some breadfruit with us. Our waiter, Tony, told us about his fire dance at the Coconut Beach Club. He said it would be 50 tala for us to watch him. Although we enjoyed our private time (Cindy, Caroline and I), it was good to have the group back together. I caught the group up on what we had done, and on the fact that they would likely need earplugs to sleep tonight. We also decided on a time to be at the temple in the morning. Then we crossed the road to the sea wall and took in the view, and then retired to our various rooms.

Mom and Dad’s room (the deluxe suite, room 10) is off an open upstairs balcony. There are also dining tables off a sideroom balcony. Bob and Linda are in the topmost room. Bob yelled from his window to get my attention when we crossed the street to the sea wall.

I read some more in a hard copy of the Book of Mormon (while charging my PDA – mom had brought a converter), and Cindy read while Caroline played with Gabe.

We got ready to go to the cultural celebration. We ended up at the temple, and asked a guard for directions. He told us it was at Apia’s main park (stadium). There were thousands in bright costumes and thousands of spectators all around the grounds when we arrived. President Price (the mission president) greeted us and found a place for us to sit among the missionaries. The stadium has no seats or bleachers. It is just cement. Mindy prevailed on a couple of Samoans for a pillow so Dad and Mom could sit on it. Uncle Bob went and got several bottles of ice cold water. We greeted Elder Spencer Condie of the Area Presidency, and several couple missionaries (including Church’s – who Bob and Linda know; they’d earlier served a mission in Michigan -- Osmonds; Ravenburgs) and young elders and sister missionaries.

I felt a little uncomfortable thinking that we may have displaced missionaries or others from seats. We were 4 or 5 rows up in the center section looking directly toward the pavilion for the VIPs. Directly in front of us was a dirt track with a walkway closest to the stadium, then chairs set up closer to the infield. Between the chairs and the infield was an asphalt track. Across the field was a stage with an oval shell-like backdrop/cover. A band in bright blue-floral shirts was set up with bright colored lights on stands. On either side of the stage were projection screens. At either end of the field were the performers in bright costumes.

As we arrived at our seats in the stadium, Samoa’s Police Band (in white lauve’s, white coats, and topped by white “bobby” hats) was performing (“How Great Thou Art”, “The Wells Fargo Wagon”, “The Stars and Stripes Forever”, “Seventy-Six Trombones”, and others). They marched in time and had interesting choreography, cocking on one leg and twisting their feet in the air. The crowd enthusiastically applauded.

Then the band onstage played a traditional island tune while a male dancer in a grass skirt cavorted on the field to the amusement of the crowd. His exaggerated movements were obviously intended to be humorous and had the desired effect.

About this time several large American cars (all the same make, model, and color) began entering the stadium. Everyone stood, and it was suddenly quiet. President Monson was the first dignitary to emerge from one of the cars, followed by President Hinckley from his car. They and their group were seated in the VIP pavilion directly in front of us. (Our digital camera battery had died, so we’ll need to get pictures from Mindy, Molly, Emily, Mom, or Bob).

The emcee welcomed President Hinckley, President Monson, and other dignitaries. (The emcee is a prominent bald leader of the Church in the islands; he was accompanied by his large, hovering wife who helped him find his place in the script and otherwise orchestrated the performers).

After an opening prayer, the celebrations began, tracing traditional Samoa and its heritage, to the arrival of the missionaries, and the modern Church in Samoa. A 7-year-old Samoan sang “Families Can Be Together Forever.” The performers were not precision – several lines moved to different spaces just before dances began. But they were excellent. Traditional drummers accompanied with traditional rhythms.

One of the features of the program was the children who always seemed to be front and center in the front row. Young boys and girls did the dances with the rest.

There were traditional Samoan, Maori, Tongan, Tahitian, and Fijian dancers. All were announced by the emcee as “Stake President so-and-so and the so-and-so Samoa Stake.” Usually there were three stakes in each group. The stake presidents often took the lead as the chiefs in traditional costumes, yelling out war cries, barking out to the dancers and leading the way.

Depicting the time after the missionaries arrived, couples waltzed to an Anne Murray recording of “May I have This Dance, For the Rest of My Life?”

At the end, all the dancers took the field (5,000 strong) and did a Samoan dance while seated on the ground – a huge wave of motion. Then the missionaries who we had been seated among marched down the track and spread single file along the infield. The missionaries and a choir sang a medley of “Firm As the Mountains”, “High On A Mountain Top”, “Behold a Royal Army” and other songs as the Samoan police band accompanied. Then we all sang “We Thank Thee, O God, for a Prophet.”

Finally, the crowd sang and waved, “Goodbye, My Friend” to President Hinckley. He also stood facing them and waved his handkerchief from side to side during the entire song (not bad for a 95 year-old man, separated by 5 time zones from his home, who’s probably been in the country less than 48 hours -- and it was 2:00 a.m. his [Mountain] time).

After the song, a stake president (one of the performers) gave a closing prayer. Then we sang again “Goodbye, My Friend” as President Hinckley, President Monson, and their group got in the cars and drove away as the waiving crowd of performers closed in behind them.

Mindy borrowed a cell phone to call our driver, Delilah, at the hotel (we had been told and told her that the performance would be 3 ½ to 4 hours; Dad said Elder Condie had told him the dress rehearsal took 6 ½ hours, and President Hinckley mandated that the program last no more than 1 ½ hours). Delilah arrived and we piled into the Hotel Millenia van. She maneuvered quickly to open spots and we were able to quickly return to the hotel through the traffic. Along the way, we greeted performers and travelers with the Samoan Sini had taught us for “Thank you,” “Good evening”, and the occasional “Asi Asi Paco” (“Ducks are different”) – a favorite saying of my grandfather when there were disagreements in the family.

We dined on the upstairs dining terrace. Caroline had a cheeseburger, Cindy had a chef salad, and I had a vegetable curry bowl with garlic bread on the side. Several of us dozed off – it was late and had been a long day. But we were all together. Sini talked about his days in the Coast Guard. Bapa kept the conversation going. We went around the circle and said what had most impressed us about the celebration. I got to start and said President Hinckley waving. Others said the children. Others, the unity of each of the separate islands in the Church, and exemplified by the temple. (Reminded me of the T-shirts we saw on the plane from Pago Pago: “One worldwide family under one roof – Apia, Samoa Temple”).

After dinner, we went to our room and crashed for the night.