When Life Gives You Lemons

You know that you are going to have an interesting day when the toilet mysteriously clogs in the middle of the night. I’m not going to speculate what really happened. Somethings in life are better left unknown. All I know is that I woke up at 3:30 am to a clog. Half asleep, unable to see more than a foot in front of me, I grabbed the plunger and started to plunge. After about 10 minutes, my efforts seemed futile. Besides, the toilet wasn’t going anywhere. It could wait until morning.

Then, 7am came. I grabbed my glasses, walked to the bathroom, was relieved that the toilet hadn’t actually gone anywhere, and continue my efforts. Able to see clearly, I quickly became suspicious of my failure. Upon close inspection, I realized that I had been trying to plunge a toilet with a holey plunger (that is holey as in “lots of holes”, not holy as in “sacred”). Unwilling to admit defeat, I put on some pants, grabbed my wallet, walked down to the convenient store and bought myself a plunger (less than 200 yards…rather convenient).

I didn’t really stop and think what an odd sight it is to see a man purchasing a plunger at 7:20 in the morning. I got a lot of looks and one comment from my landlord. But I was determined to complete my mission.

When I returned to the bathroom, the toilet was STILL there. Thank goodness. Unfortunately, after another 10 minutes of plunging with a functional hammer, the darn thing would not budge. $1.99 plunger…wasted.

I would have explored other methods but I needed to be at school in less than 30 minutes. So, I ate breakfast, made myself lunch, got dressed (for work, this time), packed my bag and went on my merry way. Of course, I made a point of stopping by my landlord’s store to ask if he knew anyone that could take care of the clog. He said he would take care of it before my roommates and I got back from work.

Most of my morning was rather uneventful. I subbed during my 1^st period prep, taught my reading students about the Paralympics (they are reading an article about Martine Wiltshire), and I introduced my Freshmen Physical Science students to Newton’s Second Law of Motion. Then I had my 5^th period.

I don’t talk about my students that much but today is a clogged toilet kind of day. Now, all of my classes have their trouble makers. You know, those one or two students who like to gossip instead of listen or tease other students or not follow the rules. They are easy to spot in every classroom and, once in a while, they do something so severe that they get sent to the office. Well, if my other classes have trouble makers, my 5^th period class is just plain trouble. If you can imagine every type of difficult student there can be, I’ve got one in my 5^th period. Talkative, loud, defiant, rude, a real classroom management nightmare. What makes it all worse is that, when they are almost all being bad, it is hard to single one of them out for a more severe punishment. How can I justify sending one to the office for swearing once when I know that two other students were just making fun of that students and I have giving warnings to two different students for breaking a class rule.

First semester, I saw my 5^th period class as a classroom management challenge. If I couldn’t turn this rowdy group into decent classroom of students, how could I call myself a real teacher? Like a clogged toilet, I just needed the right plunger. By the end of 1^st semester, I really thought that I was making progress. With constant reminders and gentle requests, I managed to get through each period with minimal frustration.

Then, winter break happened and things returned to chaos. In two weeks, I had completely lost them. As I stood over one of my students, demanding that he hand over his iTouch which he had been using to cheat on his quiz, I realized that I had made a huge mistake. Last semester, they weren’t getting better, I was. I was getting better at stopping the shenanigans before they started. I was starting every class period on high alert; ready to interfere at the first sign of a disruption.  I learned how to read the signs of their bad behavior but they were learning nothing about how and why they should exhibit good behavior.

After the iTouch incident, I broke down and realized that I needed to change the way I handled the class. I went to my principal, laid out the situation, and decided that, for the time being, I needed to switch to the one-warning policy. After that, I was to send them straight to the office. I informed the class of the policy change on Wednesday (our first day back because of MLK Jr. Day on Monday and another cyclone warning day on Tuesday that was marked by gorgeous weather) and I enforced it for the first time today. It was not a pretty sight.

One of boys walked into class, sat down, and put on his sunglasses. It was a test. I knew it was a test because I had played this game with him before. I ask him to take off the sunglasses, he does, but then he puts them back on. I tell him to take them off or they are mine. He takes them off and, shortly thereafter, he puts them back on. I demand that he give them to me he refuses, puts them away and then puts them back on.  Eventually, he would stop but it was either on his terms or on the off chance that I was quick enough to take them off his face before he realized. Today, I wanted none of it. It was a waste of my time, it kept the entire class from learning, and I was tired of it.

I asked him to take off the sunglasses. He pretended that he didn’t hear me. I walked up to him and gave it to him straight. He could either give me the sunglasses or go to the office. When he refused, I wrote him a referral. When he refused to leave, I called the office. Angrily, he stood up, stared me down and walked towards me. I’d seen the act before and was not amused. Then he gave me a slight shove, swore, pushed a desk and slammed the door behind himself. As I called the office back to inform them of his inappropriate departure, the rest of the class looked on in awe at what had just occurred. I returned the desk to its rightful position and began the lesson.

The rest of the day went rather smoothly until after school when that student returned. Having just received a 3-day suspension for his behavior, he was quite livid. He told me he didn’t understand why I had done what I had done and why what he had done was bad. He blamed me for his punishment. So, I did what I always do. I reasoned with him. I reminded him what happened, I showed him the passage in the school handbook that talks about the wearing of sunglasses, and he seemed to come around because, minutes later, he politely asked me for a quarter so that he could take the bus home. This turned into a conversation about how he hates to walk. From there, he asked if he could borrow my computer to check his e-mail. This, quickly, turned into him checking his Facebook.

As I watched him write on his friends’ walls and try to keep from reading his messages I remembered that my students are only 15 and 16. As much as they want me to think that they are all grown up, they are still just kids. Growing up isn’t easy. The lines between right and wrong are blurred; they have all of these new emotions that they don’t know how to control; and they don’t want/know how to take responsibility for their actions.

I am in no way trying to justify the actions of my student. His behavior was out of line. I am, however, trying to remind myself that his brains, like all of my students’ brains, is still developing and someday, maybe, it will click that I’m not cracking down because I am out to get any them. I’m not trying to ruin any of their lives. In fact, I’m trying to do the opposite. I don’t enjoy referring them to the office but they need to learn how to take responsibility for their words and actions and, if this works, then, at least, I have taught them something. I have, in fact, enriched their lives.

I got back to my house around 4pm and the toilet was completely unclogged. Just like new. Of course, 4 hours later, the water stopped running. But, that is the thing with life; there is always another challenge to be overcome.

   

Life, Uh...Finds A Way

After spending 10 amazingly awesome days back in beautiful Massachusetts with my friends and family, today, I made my triumphant return to Samoana High School. Feeling relaxed and rejuvenated, I was ready to start a brand new semester on a high note.

As I opened the door to my room, I noticed that it was warmer than I had remembered. I immediately ran for the vents to check the AC…it was on. Best I could gather, the school had turned off the air conditioning over break. Save the school some money; not a bad idea.

I continued my trek across my classroom and turned on the lights (why my light switch is across the room from the door, I still can’t quite understand.) As I scanned my gloriously tiny classroom, I noticed it was much dirtier than I remember leaving it. It also had an odd smell.

Upon initial inspection, everything seemed in order. Chairs were folded in the corner, tables were leaning against the wall, and my “desk” was clear of clutter. Then I spotted it. On my one of my students’ “Mitosis vs. Meiosis” project from last semester…MOLD! A closer look led me to mold on other projects and on the sides of the desks. Green, white and black, it was everywhere.

But, how? Using my best logic, turning off an air conditioner in a humid climate is a bad idea. When the AC was turned off, the hot equatorial sun heated the building. The humidity started to rise. However, the objects in the room were still cool and water began to condense. Since the sides of my desks aren’t finished and my students projects are made of clay, they had just the necessary amount of nutrients to harbor some lovely mold spores.

Realizing the dangers of loose mold spores in an enclosed room, I reached for my handy-dandy Clorox wipes (every teacher’s best friend) and began to scrub my desks. Next, I made a move to take down the posters when the bell rang. There was no time. The posters would have to wait…a…minute…and then I saw it! In the ceiling, near the rope from which the posters were hanging was a HOLE!

It was a small hole. Maybe a student was fooling around when I wasn’t looking and punched a hole in the ceiling. After all, it was only mineral fiber board. Not that difficult to puncture. A little angry about the disrespect for my classroom, I moved to open the door and there it was…another hole! It was then that I realized this was not the work of a student. No, this was the work of a true mastermind. It was a rat! Yes, I said, a rat!

While the presence of a rodent in my classroom would have sent me straight to the janitor or an exterminator, I simply went on with my day. In my classes, we talked about what my students did over vacation and they set goals for the upcoming semester. During my prep, I took down the moldy posters and had a student throw them away in the dumpster. That was that because, realistically, there isn’t much that can be done. On a small, mountainous island, there really isn’t much living space. Rodents, cockroaches, termites and other vermin are a fact of life here.

That is not say they aren’t annoying and a little creepy. The minute I see a cockroach in my house, the hunt is on. But there is always going to be another cockroach. True, the questionable building materials and shoddy workmanship don’t really help the situation (my building is newly renovated and the builders are still putting the finishing touches on two of the labs) but, in the words of Dr. Ian Malcolm, “life, uh…finds a way.”

Of course, I do draw the line when it comes to my students' learning. If I walked in this morning to find a rat/mold infestation, I would have marched down to the office and demanded immediate action. In order for positive learning to occur, it must occur in a positive environment. But I never saw a rat and the mold was easily taken care of.  It didn’t affect my students’ ability to learn and, thus, it wasn’t a top priority. To sound super cliché, the rule in American Samoa is that you have to roll with the punches and choose your battles wisely. Some days, there will be rats in your ceiling.  

Something Wicked This Way Comes

Day One (12/12/12)

I woke up this morning to complete silence. No rain, no wind, not even dogs fighting (happens more than you might think). Despite the rumor that a cyclone was headed our way, all indications pointed to today being a pretty normal day. Even my roommates were dressed and ready for school. I was devastated. I really wanted a day off to catch up on work, watch some TV, read a book, and relax. I guess I should have known better than to believe the high school rumor mill.

            Then, one of the other volunteers posted on Facebook that school was cancelled. I immediately called her. She said they had announced it multiple times on the radio. Next thing I knew, I was getting a call from the field director to make sure I had heard the news and that our house was prepared for whatever was to come. Our entire house was ecstatic. Not about the fact that the island could get ravaged by a storm (Cyclone Evan, to be precise), of course, but even teachers appreciate a day off once in a while for weather related reasons.

            Now, growing up in Massachusetts, I really should know better than to assume that, when the weather man says, “there is a storm threat,” it actually means that there is going to be a storm.  In the past 17 hours, all I have seen is a little bit more than average amount of rain. Other than that, it seemed like just another cloudy day. I even saw a little sunshine this morning.

            As I remarked to one of my neighbors, it was a great day to have off from school. I caught up on some of my television shows, I got a little further in my book, I started grading the last of my students’ work before finals (next week!), I did a few chores around the house, and I got to Skype/iMessage with a few friends back home. Overall, it was a rather productive day.

            Of course, that doesn’t mean we are out of the clear, yet. Apparently, Western Samoa (American Samoa’s independent neighbor to the west) got hit pretty hard today and Cyclone Evan is, in fact, headed our way tonight. Evan will likely not make landfall on Tutuila but we will get a lot of rain and wind. Luckily, we are prepared. School is cancelled for tomorrow and our windows are all boarded up. Assuming the power stays on, I will be sure to update tomorrow. But, if I’m not back in 5 minutes…just wait longer! 

Evan, our house is ready for you...No, the door is not still open.

If you want to keep updated on the storm,

http://www.samoanews.com/?q=node/69585

P.S. it is 12:23 am and the rain just started to really pick up. OH BOY!

Day Two (12/13/12)

Well, that was a little bit underwhelming. Early this morning, Cyclone Evan stalled over Western Samoa before turning right around. Western, apparently, is pretty ravaged. We, however, had an absolutely beautiful day. It was sunny and humid with a lite wind and occasional rain. Just another day in American Samoa. (you can check the above link for more detailed information about the storm). The only real damage I could find was to this Christmas tree in Fagatogo square.

I'm about 50% sure it's not suppose to tilt like that

            I would have updated first thing this morning but I was busy enjoying another lovely day off. I did some more chores, went for a run, and wrote my final exams. Yes, I said final exams. With two days off, I have three days of teaching and three half days of administering exams before the semester is officially over. Add two weekends and Christmas Eve (that’s 11 days total) and I will on my way home. I am beyond excited and, in fact, super thankful that we were spared Evan’s wrath. Looking at pictures from Western Samoa, getting hit definitely would have meant an extra day off of work but it also could have really messed with my travel plans. Instead, today’s flight to Hawaii was postponed until tomorrow. Other than that, it looks like things are back to normal. At least, as normal as things get around here. 

Giving Thanks in Manu'a

Beach in Manu'a

The Manu’a islands are a group of smaller islands that are part of American Samoa that lie to the southeast of the main island, Tutuila (where I’m located). We have 10 volunteers working on the Manu’a islands and, since September, the plan had been to visit them over the Thanksgiving break.

Manu’a is NOT the easiest place to get to. Being so remote and having a population of roughly 800, constant transport is not a necessity and, therefore, practically non-existent. However, there are two ways to get to Manu’a: an 8 hour boat ride or a half hour plane flight. The boat leaves the main island every other week on either Friday or Saturday around 5am and arrives in Manu’a a little after 1pm. It delivers its load and then leaves early the next day. The plane, on the other hand, flies out in the late morning Sunday-Wednesday (although, the schedule changes weekly) and returns about an hour later. While the plane might seem the obvious choice, it is the more expensive one ($165 round trip vs. $60 round trip). Also, it is often grounded for maintenance. In fact, it was grounded for the entire first half of November because it was waiting for a part to be delivered. Since the part wasn’t going to arrive until Monday, the 19^th (two days before we wanted to leave), we were forced to consider all options, including 16 hours on a boat.  

Although it took a lot of planning, an extremely long e-mail chain and hitting a couple of “brick walls”, a small group of us managed to snag reservations on the plane (I might have, unknowingly, taken someone else’s seat…WHOOPS!). Although many volunteers from the main island were planning on going, in the end, there were only six of us. While Mike and Jessica took the Tuesday flight, Melanie, Andrea, Josh S and I managed to get seats on the highly desired Wednesday flight (the last flight that would provide a reasonable amount of vacation time).

Around 10:30 Wednesday morning, I arrived at Pago Pago Airport to check in for my 12 pm departure. At check-in, I waited no more than 10 minutes, had my checked luggage hand-searched, received a boarding pass that was filled out by hand, and was weighed along with my carry-on to determine my seat assignment. Going through “security” consisted of an employee (not a TSA officer…of which, I saw none) taking a quick look through my bag. There was no emptying my pockets, no need to remove my shoes, and no full-body scan. It was, by far, the easiest and most relaxed airport security I thought I would ever go through. It wasn’t until I saw the plane that I really understood why.

On the plane to Manu'a

The plane to Manu’a is a Dornier 228-212 (basically, a ridiculously small plane). It has a seat on either side of the aisle (everybody gets a window AND an aisle…score!) and 8 rows. It seats a total of 16 passengers and two pilots who are in no way separate from the passengers. The plane has cargo holds in both its nose and the rear of the plane and can hold a little over an hour’s worth of fuel. In essence, out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, it is of very little use to a terrorist. Hence, the lack of security. 

In total, the flight took no more than 25 minutes. There were no complimentary drinks or flight attendants, for that matter, but the journey did include an amazing aerial view of Tutuila, and the Manu’a Islands: Ofu, Olosega and Ta’u.

Manu'a Airport

"Check In"

When we landed on Ta’u (again, no security in sight), we were greeted by Jason, one of the volunteers on Manu’a. Jason had procured a ride for us from “The Rev” (Jason’s landlord, village reverend, and superintendent).  Clearly, a jack of all trades. Since the airport is on the opposite side of the island from Jason, Diana and Jacquie’s place in Faleasao (where we were staying for weekend), we got a great tour of the island. We drove through all three villages on Ta’u - Fiti’uta, Ta’u and Faleasao; we got a personal tour of Manu’a High School (where Jason and some of the other volunteers make up a majority of the staff); and we got an amazing view of Mt. Lata (3,170 ft – highest point in American Samoa) and the National Park.

 During our four days on Ta’u, we did a lot swimming in some of the most beautiful, cleanest water I think I have ever seen, we explored the villages, but, most importantly, we got to spend some quality time with some amazing people. After all, that is what Thanksgiving and this trip was all about. Ok, maybe the trip was also about getting away from my students for a little while but it was more of an added bonus.

Thanksgiving Dinner

Having not seen the Manu’a volunteers in months, we spent Wednesday evening catching up on each other’s lives (aka: school). The next day, we celebrated Thanksgiving and, believe me, we did it right. We didn’t let the fact that we were on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific stop us. Nope, those of us who lived on the main island stuffed our suitcases with as much food as we possibly could. We had green bean casserole, bread, potatoes, gravy, stuffing and, yes, we even had an entire turkey. It was absolutely delicious.

It was also the first Thanksgiving I’ve ever had without my family. I will admit that that was a little tough. Being away at college made being away from home for long periods of time pretty easy. However, being so close, I never had to miss a major holiday. Holidays, for me, have always been about being with family. So, they just aren’t the same without them. Of course, part of this adventure was to have new experiences and I guess that includes holidays away from home. Plus, if you can’t celebrate with family, the next best thing is friends.

We had a great afternoon of eating and catching up and, to burn off all the extra calories, we walked to the boat dock in Ta’u and went swimming. I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect first Thanksgiving away from home.

At the Siva

On Friday, we spend the day doing a little more relaxing and a little more swimming. That night, however, we danced! To our surprise, Friday was the village’s first siva (a gathering where people dance. Siva is also the name of the actual dance that they do). Apparently, the minute we landed on Manu’a, it became mandatory that we attend. For two days, everyone we met made sure to remind us about it.

The purpose of the siva was to raise money for the church. In order to raise the money, members of each family put on a performance and, in typical Samoan fashion, the audience threw money at them. Of course, there were also opportunities for everyone to dance and, when the first group song came on, I was the first pa’alagi to be asked to dance. I’ve seen a few people dancing siva and I’ve been told that all of the moves have meanings but I had no idea what I was doing up there. I tried to copy the moves of my dance partner and I’m sure I still looked like a fool but it didn’t seem to matter. I think she just appreciated that I was trying. 

As much as I enjoyed dancing, the real fun started when I brought out my camera. I know they have all seen cameras before but, the minute I started taking pictures, every little kid in the village wanted to try. While probably over 100 pictures were attempted that night, I kept forgetting to tell them to wait for the flash so only about 50 were actually taken and only about 20 were actually of something/someone. Of course, the kids didn’t mind at all. For them, it was more about the experience than the product.

The boat arrives!

After a long night of dancing, Saturday morning was pretty slow…until the boat came! The boat comes to Manu’a every other week and brings everything you could possibly imagine. It is like the Wells Fargo Wagon of American Samoa. People flock from all over the island to get their shipments off them island. Stores get their stock, families get their furniture, and volunteers get their groceries. To say that Manu’a is dependent upon this boat is an understatement. Case in point, while we were there, the island was completely out of gasoline and the only way to get it is from the boat. Unfortunately, the boat didn’t bring gas so they weren’t going to see any gasoline for AT LEAST another two weeks. While Ta’u is a small island, it is still a half hour walk up and down the mountainside from Faleasao to Ta’u and somewhere between an hour and a half to two hours to Fitiuta (that is estimated. We want to try it but never got around to it)

Luckily, it seems that the locals are pretty aware and prepared for the shortage so we were able to get a ride over to Fitiuta that afternoon. That night, we hung out with Madeline and Jessie, the volunteers in that village and, the next morning, we hopped on our 30 minute flight home.

Going to Manu’a was a much needed break. It was also an amazing experience. Life in Manu’a is simple. For one, people are very confined to their villages and live off of what they can grow or catch (it is a real effort for volunteers on Manu’a to see each other. On a big island like Tutuila, we can have a bus take us wherever we want to go. On a small island like Ta’u, it is hitch or walk and most cars aren’t going very far.) Also, the natural landscape is absolutely beautiful and unobstructed by government buildings and McDonalds (like on Tutuila), the waters are pristine, and the weather is perfect (apparently, we were there during one of the few Saturdays where it didn’t downpour).

To be honest, Manu’a is much more of what I imagined all of American Samoa would be like. I was very surprised by the level of Americanization on Tutuila. Of course, there are days when I really do love that American influence. Despite the beauty of Manu'a, I have to give those volunteers some props. As nice as the simple life was, I don’t believe I could do it for more than a long weekend. Even living where I do, I find I need the occasional “American escape”. The things to do on Manu’a are limited, the American things to do are nonexistent. It is a lifestyle choice and the volunteers over there absolutely love it and I loved getting a chance to see them for the first time in a long time.