Saturday, January 24, 2015

My Life in Samoa: The Picture Edition

Upon arriving in Samoa and unpacking my suitcase, I quickly realized that I had forgotten the cord to plug my new camera into my computer. Last week, I finally got my act together and bought a SIM card reader. To celebrate finally being able to upload my pictures, I am going to dedicate this post (and a few others, I imagine!) to sharing some of my favorites with you. With the exception of the first picture, these shots are all from my travels around Upolu over the past two and a half months.

After learning how to snorkel, beach visits will never be the same.

On one of my first weekends in Samoa, a group of us took a bus down to the south side of Upolu for lunch and snorkeling at Lafuga Bay (for more on buses in Samoa, see my earlier blog post). 
   
Now my first attempt at snorkeling – just the weekend before – was very brief and involved lots of spluttering and inhaled water. If any of you have seen the episode of Parks and Rec where they have to design a new, spoutless water fountain for Pawnee (Season 4, Episode 17 – “Campaign Shake-Up"), you will have an excellent visual for why my first attempts at snorkeling failed. Luckily, after a few helpful tips (i.e. don’t put your mouth over the entire mouth piece) and a couple mask adjustments, I was on my way. And it was incredible.
   
After a short swim, we were able to see a group of giant clams very similar to the ones in the photo below. As I swam above the clams, watching their shells open and close and streams of bubbles float to the ocean surface, it finally hit me. I am on an island. I am going to get to see amazing marine life like this whenever I want for the next ten months. This is awesome.

These Giant Clams are very similar to the ones I saw while snorkeling at Lafuga Bay.
Source: http://www.earthrangers.com/wildwire/omg_animals/the-giant-clam%E2%80%99s-home/


Samoa is impressively beautiful inside and out.

Traveling to the south side of the island via the Le Mafa Pass or Cross Island Road, I quickly discovered that Samoa’s interior landscape is as impressive and breathtaking as its coastal views. A drive across Upolu includes green vistas straight out of Jurassic Park and side trips to a number of beautiful lakes and waterfalls.
   
After first moving into my house in Vaivase-Tai (one of the residential areas around Apia), my housemates and I made the trek up a rather bumpy road to arrive at Sauniatu Falls. Because we visited on a Sunday, we were not able to swim. While it was rather miserable to sweat over our picnic lunch and not be able to dive into the beautiful blue water, at least I was able to get this people-free shot. A group of us went back to swim several weeks later, and there was quite a number of people also enjoying a swim by the waterfall. And a few of the more intrepid – or perhaps crazy? – members of our group decided to make the over sixty foot jump from the cliff into the water below.

It took all of my restraint to not immediately dive into the cool water by the beautiful Sauniatu Falls.

A view of the Samoan wilderness from up “on the hill” (i.e. the large hill you drive over when taking Cross Island Road).

Staying in a Samoan Fale means actually falling asleep to the sound of the ocean.

Upon arriving in Samoa, I was immediately told that I would not have the full Samoan beach experience until I had stayed in a traditional Samoan fale. Numerous beach resorts across the island offer their visitors the option of spending the night in one of these simple, thatched roofs huts. When I stayed, the cost was as low as USD 28 per person. And the view is much better than the bunk beds you’d be staring at inside a European hostel of similar price.

These circular huts are completely open, with panels or a tarp that you can lower if you end up at the beach on a rainy day. This makes it a very cool place to sleep whenever an ocean breeze rolls through, but it definitely takes some getting used to. I have stayed in two different fales now, and despite the soothing, steady sounds of the ocean, it took me quite some time to drift off to sleep. I think it will take a few more fale experiences before my body is fully accustomed to this very new sleeping arrangement. On the plus side, my light sleeping meant that I woke up in time to step out and watch a beautiful sunrise (before heading back to the fale for a few more hours of sleep).

I also particularly enjoyed the fales at Lalomanu Beach (the first picture below) because of the open shady space underneath. I could still enjoy drying off on the beach while hiding in some nice shade – the perfect set up for my super fair skin!

I spent a lovely weekend in this colorful fale at Lalomanu Beach, a very popular tourist destination on the south side of Upolu.

The inside of a fale at Hideaway Beach Resort. In most fales, the mattresses are just placed on the floor,
so we were surprised to find these cute little beds.

A beach sunset truly never gets old.

One of the best parts about staying the night in a beachside fale is that you have a front row seat to some of the most incredible sunsets and sunrises I have ever seen. No picture can really do justice to the total peace and calm of those moments. Listening to the waves lap on the beach. Watching the sun radiate across and slowly be enveloped by the ocean. Seeing the sky flush with changing shades of yellow, orange, pink. It was truly magical.

    The sun began to set while we were having dinner by this beautiful beach, but I ran back to the fale
and managed to nab my camera in time to get this shot.


    While at Lalomanu Beach, I was able to sit on a deck and enjoy both this sunset and an incredible sunrise the next morning.

These beautiful sunsets seem like a good place to end this post. I will definitely be sharing more pictures in the future, so stay tuned!

Here is another dose of introductory Samoan:
‘O ai lou suafa? (What’s your name?)
‘O lo’u igoa o Marie-Claire. (My name is Marie-Claire.)

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

In a Nutshell: Small Island Developing States

This post was originally published on Full, Bright Reflections (https://fulbrightclinton2015.wordpress.com/),
a shared blog for the 2014-2015 Fulbright-Clinton Fellows.


The Fulbright-Clinton Fellowship in Samoa has given me the rare opportunity to see first hand what life is like in a group of countries that I had previously only briefly researched and studied: small island developing states (SIDS).

To further familiarize myself with this grouping of countries, I decided to do a bit of background research. I will share the results of this research with you through this and other “In a Nutshell” blog posts. Let’s start at the very beginning (the very best place to start): who are the small island developing states?

There are thirty-nine SIDS (fifty-one if you also include territories) spread throughout three regions: AIMS (Atlantic, Indian Ocean, Mediterranean, and South China Sea), the Caribbean, and the Pacific. According to the UN, they house 63.2 million people and have a combined gross domestic product (GDP) of US$ 575.3 billion. To give a point of comparison, Samoa has a GDP (2013) of US$ 801.9 million, and as of 2014, its population totaled 192,000.

51 small island developing states and territories are scattered across the AIMS, Carribbean, and Pacific regions.
    Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Small_Island_Developing_States
   
SIDS are distinguished from other developing countries by four key characteristics: small size, isolation, climate change and sea-level rise, and natural and environmental disasters.
   
Small size brings with it many challenges, including a more narrow range of resources; a high dependence on international trade for goods that can’t be produced locally (and as a result, a high vulnerability to fluctuations in international markets); and higher costs for infrastructure (including transportation and communication). Their small size also prevents SIDS from benefiting from the same economies of scale (i.e. mass production to reduce per unit costs) that a larger economy could achieve.
   
Small size does, however, offer definite opportunities. It makes SIDS ideal locations for pilot projects that could then be rolled out to other countries on a larger scale. Renewable energy is a particularly promising area for SIDS pilot projects. The New Zealand territory of Tokelau, for example, uses solar sources for 100% of its energy needs.
   
During my time in Samoa thus far, I have been able to appreciate the advantages that come with its small size. It was rather daunting to be responsible for finalizing a climate change policy review for an entire country, but Samoa is one of the rare locations where, because of its small size, I can actually feasibly get a sense of everything climate change related that is happening across the entire country. I’m given the chance to deal with national level issues while dealing with what for many countries would be local level scale.
   
Isolation means that on top of being highly dependent on international trade, SIDS also have to fight harder to stay competitive with more easily accessible locations. They also incur much higher costs for everything they import and export. And as I have now seen first hand, the arrival of imported goods takes a lot more time. At the end of December, I stopped by a store to buy some reef shoes, and they only had a few large sizes left in stock. I asked when they expected to get in some smaller sizes, and they said that the next shipment was slated to arrive at the end of January – at the earliest.
   
Climate change and sea-level rise are also a much more serious risk for SIDS than other developing countries precisely because of their small size (which means that there is a high coastal zone concentration for limited land area) and isolated position. It is because of the serious implications of climate change and sea-level rise for SIDS that Samoa is now seeking to develop a coherent, unified national approach to climate change and ensure that climate change is incorporated into all of their sector development plans.
   
Natural and environmental disasters are also a very serious risk. SIDS are located in the regions that are the most vulnerable to these disasters – in terms of their intensity, frequency, and increasing impact. Because of the interplay between this and the other key characteristics for SIDS, they also face disproportionately high economic, social, and environmental costs from such disasters.
   
When Cyclone Evan hit Samoa in December 2012, it destroyed a wide range of crucial infrastructure (from roads and bridges to water and electrical facilities) and damaged tourist facilities, homes, and crops. An IMF Official estimated the impact of the Cyclone to be at least as high as the 2009 tsunami, which displaced 3,500 people and caused US$ 147 million in damages (an amount that equals over a quarter of Samoa’s GDP). Samoa received over $103 million WST in foreign aid from 2013 to 2014 to help with Cyclone Evan recovery and has now "built back better", more climate resilient infrastructure. And climate resilience continues to be an important part of climate change-related programs in Samoa. Such projects are critical if we are to lessen the impact of any future natural or environmental disasters.
   
I hope this post has helped you discover a little bit more about what it means to be a small island developing state. To finish off, here is a new set of Samoan phrases:
 'O a mai 'oe? (How are you?)
Manuia fa'afetai. (Fine, thank you.)
   
If you would like to find out more about small island developing states, these sites were particularly useful for me in writing this post:
http://aosis.org/ 
http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2012-12-22/cyclone-evan-impact-on-samoa-s-economy-as-bad-as-2009-tsunami.html
http://data.worldbank.org/country/samoa
http://powersmartsolar.co.nz/our_projects/id/185
http://www.sids2014.org
http://www.sidsnet.org/
http://sustainabledevelopment.un.org/topics/smallislanddevelopingstates
http://www.un.org/en/events/islands2014/
http://www.worldbank.org/en/country/pacificislands

Monday, January 5, 2015

A Warm, Island Christmas


Happy (belated) Holidays everyone! December passed by in a blur, and I now find myself writing this post at the two month marker for my ten month Fulbright in Samoa.
   
While it is never easy to be away from home at Christmas, I was lucky to be with a large group of other “Christmas orphans” who helped make this an unforgettable island Christmas.
   
In Samoa, the holiday season kicks off even earlier than in US department stores; Christmas carols have been jingling in stores, taxis, and buses since I arrived in early November. Christmas trees, garlands, and lights have also been gradually popping up around Apia, with the largest and most spectacular decorations making their appearance the week before Christmas. My favorite decoration would have to be a Samoan style Christmas tree, which is beautifully fashioned out of palm fronds.

Samoan palm frond Christmas trees are usually also decorated with ornaments and flowers.
Source: http://johnandkarenkrogh.blogspot.com
Along with final Christmas decorations, the week before Christmas also brought the hustle and bustle of last minute Christmas shopping. In the final days before Christmas, the amount of people in one of the main shopping plazas downtown quadrupled, and I had to sit through traffic jams for the first time on my commutes home.

My team had a Christmas celebration and gift exchange to finish off work on Christmas Eve. My boss asked if I had any Christmas music, so I brought over different renditions of classic Christmas carols, including Michael Bublé’s recent Christmas album. While Michael was crooning in the background, one of my colleagues joked about how “old” the music sounded without the steady beat that booms in the back of most Samoan remixed carols. That joke really brought home for me how subjective musical preferences truly are. While I feel like I’m traveling back in time by a few decades whenever I listen to Samoan radio tunes, my Samoan colleague gets the same impression when listening to what I would consider to be “timeless” classics.
   
Christmas itself gave me a window into some Australian Christmas traditions. I and the other Fulbrighter in Samoa were able to celebrate with a group of Australian volunteers who were also still on the island for Christmas. We all gathered together on Christmas eve for a potluck style Christmas feast where every one brought their favorite holiday dishes, which included a delicious Australian barbecue and some of the best roast beef I’ve had in a very long time. I made my mom’s family fudge and Christmas cookie recipes, and I managed to rope my friends into helping decorate the cookies. The fudge was a hit, and the decorated cookies had a definite dose of Samoan flair.

This year's Christmas cookies were dressed up for some island weather.
Christmas morning started with everyone opening their Secret Santa presents before enjoying a tasty, American style breakfast casserole. Christmas then also included seasonal movies, a second round of pot luck feasting, and lots and lots of games. A better part of Christmas day and evening was spent in heated rounds of Resistance (a more intense version of Mafia) and in hilarious sessions of Taboo. We took a break from the games late afternoon to take a swim and enjoy the view from an amazing home up on the hill.

In both Australia and Samoa, Christmas festivities continue on to Boxing Day. Samoans typically go on an outing with family and friends, and Australians also have the option of checking out sales on par with Black Friday. The Christmas orphans continued to celebrate by taking a swim by a beautiful waterfall and enjoying an amazing dinner at one of my favorite Indian restaurants. (Really, it is one of the best Indian restaurants I’ve ever been to. How lucky that Apia has a really good restaurant for one of my favorite types of cuisine!)

All in all, it was a great Christmas break, and I am now ready to take on 2015! I hope you all also had a wonderful holiday season. 

To finish off, here is a new Samoan phrase that keeps with our festive theme: 
Manuia le Kerisimasi ma le Tausaga fou! (Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!)