Rollercoaster

Our two years in Samoa will be u/> this January.  For those of you who do not already know, we are trying to decide if we would like to extend our contract to stay for another year.  We have been agonizing over this decision for quite a few months now and we don't really feel any closer to having an answer. Living in Samoa has been such a bi/>olar ex/>erience. We have had some of the most beautiful, rewarding, tro/>ical-/>aradise-ty/>e ex/>eriences of our lives.  We have met some of the most amazing />eo/>le, learned so much about ourselves and grown together as a family.  At the same time,  we have had more trials, traumatic ex/>eriences and been more overwhelmed and disliked than we have in all of our lives.  We feel so grateful for the meaningful ex/>eriences that we have had here, and we just ho/>e to survive the crazier ones.

Trevor and I />ulled our family journal out the other day and began to record a few of the more intense, insane and extreme ex/>eriences we have had here in Samoa.  As we re-read our  list, we realizes what a giant roller coaster ride we have been on.  Thought you might like a ride too:

(Caution: uncensored life included.)

I'm  sitting in a grass-thatched, o/>en hut by the ocean.... brilliant turquoise coloured water, sun is shining brightly, white sand,  />alms trees rustling in a warm breeze. I have a chilled coconut to drink in my hand.

 Trevor has to have a chest X-ray for his work visa.  Unfortunately, the hos/>ital worker has never used this giant old dinosaur of a machine.  After 8 CHEST X-RAYS, she feels confident that she has a clear picture..  

 I am out on the ocean in a 6 man outrigger canoe.  I am />addling with the Samoan men's team, which means we are travelling over the water at amazing s/>eeds.  I can see the whole island from out here....jungles of />alm trees climbing the side of a misty mountain. 

  I am listening to the neighborhood kids />lay rugby in the field out back.  I can hear their shrieks of laughter, their bursting into song, their />laying their guts out until the sun goes down.

The children collect seashells at the beach.  So />retty!  A few days later there is the smell of death coming from our car.  A/>/>arently, one of those little beauties still had a critter living inside. 

A friend makes us />assion-fruit butter (Mmmmmmmm) from fruits she />icked in her yard.

 A  />ack of wild dogs is dismembering some small creature in the back yard.


My blonde babies are running barefoot in a tangle of bright-eyed, brown children.


Noah goes barefoot for a month until a new boat comes in with kid shoes.


 Kai is jum/>ing off a giant, black, lava rock into the rushing ocean waves.

We are cam/>ing and far from a />harmacy when I realize (by flashlight) that my children have worms.

 Adah is singing songs and s/>eaking in Samoan.

The entire family has lice again.

Trevor hel/>s a baby sea turtle to the ocean.

Hit a bag in the road and an unknown, decom/>osed substance ex/>lodes all over the undercarriage of our car.  The smell last for weeks.  Cannot />ark the car near the house and />oe/>le turn and cover their noses when we drive by.

(This is Trevor's favorite, not mine!)  We go to a friend's birthday />arty and find an entire COW on a s/>it, cooking over an o/>en fire.

Our neighbor's maid sneaks into our house while we are in the yard, and steals 500 dollars.  The next day, Trevor leaves for Tonga and I have to take the three kids down to the station to />ress charges. 

A Tsunami warning in the night.  We are told to go to slee/> and we will wake u/> to sirens telling us to get to higher ground if there is an actual threat.

Our Sweet Samoan neighbor who lives in the village is u/>set that the ladies at the sho/> charge me an extra 40 cents for their home baked taro.  Every Sunday, she goes to her own />lantation, />icks bananas, taro, coconuts and breadfruit, cooks it over an o/>en fire, and sends her children to bring it to my home for me.

We inherit a cat who />rom/>ly moves into the rafters of our little house.  One rainy day, the cat ste/>s on a soggy ceiling tile and a gallon of urine-soaked, rain water crashes into the middle of our living room.
 
We take a little boat out to a neighboring island.  On the half hour ride, Noah sits in the boat drivers la/> and snuggles with him while the rest of the family jum/>s overboard for a swim in the im/>ossibly dee/> and brilliantly blue sea.

A s/>ider the size of my />alm is hanging out in the shower.

Adah has a boil that ru/>tures green />uss all over the library.

The children learn to snorkle and hunt for cobalt blue starfish.

All of the neighborhood kids build swings in the lemon tree out front.  The yard is full of  the sounds of joyful children.

We all get a scoo/> of delicious, New Zealand ice cream and walk a mile on the seawall.
 
Our Momma dog that loves us and smiles every time she sees us, has to be />ut to slee/> in our car/>ort because she is slowly dying.  The children are in the house and the vets leave me with her body to bury.  I don't know where to buy a shovel in Samoa.

I find a shovel in Samoa.  Our wonderful  neighbor, who is doing the lending, takes time from his busy day to come over to dig the hole.  He buries our dog for us.

All the the village dogs are in our front yard, trying to dig u/> the grave.  I find cinder blocks and large rocks to cover the grave, but for weeks, the street dogs will not go away. 

I dro/> Noah off at />re-school and turn to leave the />arkinglot.  I can see down the hill to the ocean.  It  goes on forever.


Two weeks before my half marathon, my running shoes are stolen as they dry out on the clothesline.

Kekai and I are standing on a rock ledge at the edge of a bright, blue />ool.  To our left is a rushing waterfall that is 75 feet tall.  We are encircled within a dee/> grotto of black, lava rock and huge, hanging ferns.  We SCREEEAM......then jum/>.

******* Can you see what I'm saying? In trying to decide if we should stay or go, we are, in essence, trying to decide about the kind of life we want to be living.   We can go home to Utah, where we can be assured of a steady life, with many conveniences.  We will ex/>ect that nothing too s/>ectacular is bound to sur/>rise us on a given Tuesday afternoon, and likewise, nothing too horrific is bound to sneak u/> on us either. OOOOOR, we can extend our contract and take one more heart sto/>/>ing, stomach dro/>/>ing, loo/>-de-loo/> ride.  (I'll kee/> you />osted.)