Tuesday, December 8

Tuesday.


Wrap things up at the SUNGO office - Vasilli bails on me - other urgent business. I'm a big boy - I can handle myself.


Drive over to Saleopaga solo. Air conditioned car is a welcome break.


Faofao is one of very few places rebuilding. I connect with Va'a - he shows me the way to the new village. I present the family matai with the introduction letter Vasilli has prepared for me.


The drive up - establish the new village...and why. Mud - rotten road.


Establish my intentions with the family matai. He agrees to let us film, although he seems to have no prior knowledge of our visit. I bring the food gifts up to the fale. They are very pleased.


First interview with the matai. His wife (buried behind me - where Seti is playing) died in the tsunami. He tells the story.


I'm treated to lobster and fish lunch. The soup is excellent fish broth mixed with coconut. I try to ignore the squalor and hope to the good lord that I don't get sick. I tactfully plop a lobster morsel from the fale floor back onto my plate - the 30 second rule definitely does not apply here.


Va'a patiently waits for me. I attempt to shoot with Seti, but it feels totally unworkable. The boy is totally confused. Everyone in his family is telling him what to say and do. They're trying to please me, but language is a real barrier for the first time in all my trips to Samoa. I try to get Seti to show me around where he lives, but an uncle takes him by the hand and feeds him the things to say, line by line. I try to explain that I just want to spend some time with the boy, but the more I talk the worse things get. I finally give up and find Va'a and ask him to show me the new village. We drive a few minutes down the road and the rain starts pouring down. It's heavy enough to warrant my underwater splash bag.


Visiting Va'a's aunt in the hills overlooking the village. It's the family plantation - adapted to the new purpose. Everyone goes barefoot because anything else would be futile. I'm offered genuine hospitality. I gladly accept perhaps the sweetest coffee I've ever had. Sweat pours off me from the first sip but the caffeine hit is worth it.


We head back to Seti's home - I figure that it's better to get the second time over with now - maybe things will improve after more exposure to the camera. Unfortunately, it's worse. As soon as it feels like progress is near another complicating factor arises. Other kids and adults are a major challenge. Everybody either encourages Seti to wave at the camera or does it themselves. The kids simply stare into the camera and then wait for me to leave. Seti and a buddy are filling water pistols from a couple of water barrels. I seize my moment and drop my camera in the barrel (it's still in the splash bag). The kids are a bit freaked out, but this gains their curiosity. One for the home team. I pull the camera out of the water and encourage them to splash water at it. I hope this doesn't come back to haunt me some later date when I don't have the camera in the splash bag....I take a bunch of shots on this theme and call it a day with Seti. Best to leave things on a high note.


Va'a and I head down to Faofao. I explain on the way that I'm sorry for not bringing much in the way for his family - I had not understood the full circumstances (think mud) of his family. I'm also more than a little ashamed - I should have thought to bring presents for my hosts, regardless. I should have split the generosity between the two households - I will make it up to Va'a's family.


What I really need to do is offload the footage - it seems that the file transfers are taking longer and longer to do. I think the humidity might be a factor. It's taking multiple tries to even get the camera and the computer to talk. Sometimes it refuses to connect, others it partially copies before stalling. My evenings are always an adventure of this sort, so the earlier I start the better. I arrange a table from Va'a - but there's only one, so he promises to arrange to have it brought over after it's used for eating on by everyone. I wonder out loud what time dinner is...the answer is "sometime around 7:30". I make the mistake of going with this, rather than looking for an alternative work station. 9:10 rolls around and I'm finally setting up where I should have in the first place...on a shelf behind the bar of the new restaurant. By the time I'm set up, one of the workers pulls up his sleeping mat beside me and tucks in for the night. He tells me not to make noise. I cautiously complete the footage transfer, but I'm too tired to watch anything more than a spot check. This has been a perpetual drag for me. Shooting without reviewing what's already in the can is an act of faith.


At the best of times it takes a couple of nights to get used to sleeping in a fale on the beach. Sometimes they are draped with leaf blinds - these days most of them are closed up with large blue tarps. Mine had tarps, which are good for keeping the teeming rain out, but not so good for ventilation or noise in the perpetual wind. It's a restless night. Being on the site of the tsunami doesn't help. I don't mind the natural part of the disaster, but family members of the people I'm mingling with died here. Va'a's family were all spared - but you don't have to go far too find people who've suffered loss.