Hubby is home

Finally, he is back on American soil, safe and sound.  Thanks for all the good wishes, love, and support.   We’re also almost settled in back home again.  Yes, another move, but this one was a move we’ve all been looking forward to so we are very happy.  Busy, hectic, and still living with unpacked boxes and the smell of paint, but very very happy. 

Now that my life is almost back to normal, I hope to get back to this blog again on an almost regular basis:-).  Until then, I hope you are all well and living life to the fullest.

Conversations from the road

Road trips.  Yeah, that other great American past-time.  Hitting the road with the whole family and the dog.  In our case, it’s the whole family minus the dog.  Sorry animal lovers, I do like animals as long as they don’t come near me and as long as they live in someone else’s house.

Road trips are often an exercise in saint-like patience, something I don’t have at all.  I mean you’re cooped up in the car for hours, your muli hurts from sitting for so long, the kids drive you crazy asking “are we almost there” every 15 minutes, and you can’t have any of the yummy snacks (chips, cookies, candies) because you’re on another diet.   Munching on an apple is just not the same as sinking your teeth into a king size Butterfinger on these trips.  Torture, I tell you, pure torture. 

Still, road trips have become sort of a family tradition and it has grown on me over the years.   We’ve been on a lot of road trips, that’s for sure.   We’ve even driven coast to coast not once but three times.  Over the years, we’ve developed a pattern that works for us.  Basically hubby navigates and drives, the kids play their xbox or watch a movie, and me, well as my boys sometimes like to say when they’re caught dozing when they should be paying attention –  I watch the back of my eyelids.   Well I do navigate when I need to, for example if we’re traveling on an unfamiliar highway or street, then of course I sit with the map on my lap ready to tell hubby which intersection to take, er, if I can figure out the map, that is.   The next family car we’re picking out is defintely going to come with a GPS.  It’s just as necessary as air conditioning as far as I’m concerned.

Seriously though, my favorite thing about these long trips is having insightful conversations with my boys.  Not the superficial “how was your day” type that we sometimes fall into on a daily basis or the awkward “interview” that happens when we ask one of them to sit down with us to talk about something.   The interview is usually associated with “I’m in trouble” in their minds so they’re immediately on the defensive.  I know my barriers went up whenever I heard my parents say that they needed to talk to me about something. 

No, these road trip conversations are different.  They’re often fun and quite relaxed.  There is something about being cooped up in the car for hours that allows them to talk freely about anything and everything.   There is nothing planned or rehearsed about it.  Its spontaneous, usually starting with one of them saying something like, “Mom, did you know that ………?” Or sometimes its “Did you hear about that incident in the news ……….?”  Or this one aimed directly at me, “So Mom, when you were my age did you ……….?”  Or “is it true that…….?” These and similar openers like them have led us to some of our most enjoyable and enlightening discussions while on our many road trips.

This past week we took another road trip, only a 6 hour one this time, but it was enough time for our high schooler to explain in detail why he thinks that his European History teacher is a weirdo, that a couple of kids in his class are getting on his nerves and what he did about it, that he’s going to stay with us until he’s forty since I’m not letting him get his driver’s license yet, and that I’m getting a lot of gray hair so what am I going to do about it.  And somewhere in there we had a great discussion about the economy and racism in this country.  He is taking mostly Honors and AP classes so he is quite the intellectual.  It was no mean feat keeping up with him, good thing I’m a nerd just like him:-).  In fact, he did ask me if I was a nerd in high school and I said, “Of course.  There is nothing wrong with being a nerd, nerds are cool.”

How Do I Love Thee

I heard a woman the other day talk about her experiences in China.  This woman (we’ll call her Ann so I don’t have to keep referring to her as this woman) and her husband spent a year teaching English in China.  They had just returned home and were invited to share their experiences.

I thought they were an admirable couple.  I was impressed with what they shared and with their dedication.  However, there was one small part of the story that got under my skin, actually it irritated the heck out of me.

She told us that in addition to teaching English to their students, she felt that they also taught another lesson – how to love.  She went on to say that her students couldn’t stop marveling at how her and her husband always held hands wherever they went.  She said her students were impressed with the way they publicly showed their affection for one another.   So what is so objectionable about that?

I was bothered at the way she seemed to equate and interpret the lack of these behaviors in her Chinese students.  She made it sound as if the absence of these outward signs meant that the Chinese (or at least the ones she interacted with) do not love as strongly, or even love as we do.  In her mind, the fact that her students didn’t display their affection for one another publicly showed that they were somehow- less.  Less loving, less worthy, less modern?  I don’t know, it just came across as less.  Perhaps her students “marveled” because they couldn’t believe that someone could behave so contrary to the acceptable customs and social mores of their host country.   Just a thought.  Maybe her students even excused it the same way we in Samoa excuse a behavior that isn’t normally acceptable, that is, shrug it off and say, “they’re not Samoans, they don’t know any better.”

I wanted to tell Ann that not all cultures approve of public display of affection.  I wanted to but didn’t.  Debated if I should say something to her then decided to let it go just in case I’m misinterpreting her intended message.    

I’m asked (directly and indirectly) from time to time about romantic love in Samoa.  In Samoa, couples don’t hold hands in public, at least, traditionally, we don’t.  Who knows, maybe things are slowly changing.  Actually, you will see grown women or grown men holding hands from time to time, but don’t be shocked.  It’s not what you think, they’re just buddies.  That’s just how we roll, lol.

As far as lovers smooching in public in Samoa, be warned, don’t ever do it.  Making out in public is an absolute no-no, and would be considered insulting to those around you and the epitome of rudeness on your part. 

So does this mean that Samoans don’t love as passionately as someone else growing up here in America.  Of course not!  That is so obviously ludricous I can’t even imagine that anyone would think that.   Samoan culture may frown on outward displays of affection but we do love just as strongly as the couple that flaunts their affection in public.  

So when it comes to the question of how do I love thee, or perhaps more to the point of this post, how do I show how much I love thee?  The answer is – that depends.   It depends on who you are, where you are, and what cultural and social mores are acceptable in any given situation.  What may be perfectly normal for you may be taboo for someone else.

Rights for Illegals?

Recently our local news featured a story about a certain legislation that has come under scrutiny again.  As with anything to do with immigration, it came under fire from different sectors of the community.

The bill in question is aimed at ensuring that illegals who are attending state owned universities continue to pay in state tuition if they’ve attended high school in the state for a minimum of three years.

Now, I have mixed feelings about this whole issue of illegal immigration.  I’ve read enough and seen enough to know the horrendous conditions that are found in places where a lot of illegal immigrants come from.  It is absolutely heartbreaking to see how some people in this world live.  It is hard to see stories of children having to spend their days in a landfill to find food.  It is painful to see the desperation on a mother’s face because she has no idea how she’ll feed her family.  It’s no wonder that so many desperate people risk their lives and freedom to come to this country illegally. 

Is illegal immigration justified?  Are they really taking jobs away from citizens and other lawful residents? 

As I stated earlier, I find myself conflicted about this issue. 

The one argument that I really don’t want to hear, however, is that illegals should be allowed to stay because deporting them would cause harm to the family, i.e. families shouldn’t be separated.  One of the supporters interviewed on the news actually stated that it wouldn’t be right to deport them as that puts a stress on families due to being apart or separated (I’m paraphrasing of course). 

The young man has good intentions but he needs to think hard before he speaks on this issue.  Perhaps, he needs to get to know a few more people and hear their stories.  Here’s one for example.  My family lives in three different countries, not because we want to, but because we’re trying to do things legally.   Most of us are here in this country and have become US citizens.  We love our adopted country and are all contributing to our communities in a lot of different ways.  However, three of our siblings still live outside of this country because their paperwork to move here legally is still stuck in the backlog that is the US immigration system.  They’ve been waiting for 8 years and they’ll probably be waiting for quite a while longer.  We know of many families in this situation.  Some have been waiting for well over 10 years.  Some of our military friends have families from different parts of the world, and they report a similar scenario as well.  It’s hard, and it’s frustrating, and yes, we would rather have everyone here so that our family can enjoy being together, but we didn’t want them to come here illegally so we’re living with the consequences of trying to do things the right way.   

So please don’t tell me that you support illegal immigration or any rights or legislation associated with that issue because you don’t want to break families up etc.  Tell me that you support illegal immigration because to send them back to wherever they come from would be inhumane.  I can totally see that argument having some validity but don’t tell me that it would break up their family.  If families in situations like mine have to sacrifice being together as a family , then a family that is here illegally has no right whatsoever to use that as an argument to stay here or to get the fringe benefits that come with being a lawful resident or citizen.

As far as giving illegals the fringe benefits of state tuition, I’m totally against it.   This isn’t fair to the taxpayers of this state, or to every other citizen of this country.  Why should illegals get this break?  A citizen of the United States from another state has to pay out of state tuition, but an illegal student can pay in-state tuition just because they’ve been here illegally for at least three years?  Am I missing something here? 

Supporters of this bill also argue that these students shouldn’t be punished because of something their parents did, (i.e.  came here illegally).  They also argue that these students are bona fide residents of the state because they’ve grown up here and lived here all of their lives, that they pay taxes.   Well, paying taxes is the least they should do.  They should pay taxes for the privilege of having a job here in America, of working here illegally and making more than they would make if they were working in their countries.   They are already reimbursed for their taxes by the fact that they have better living conditions etc than they would have if they were back where they should be.  They drive the same roads that we all drive on, don’t they?

As for the argument that they shouldn’t be punished because it was their parents that brought them here, that it isn’t their fault, well guess what, that’s called life.  My kids didn’t ask to be in a military life.   We, their parents, made that choice and like it or not, they have to put up with the conditions that come with the kind of life that we chose, conditions such as move every two years, start at a new school, make new friends, deployments, etc.  It sucks for them, it sucks a lot.  But that’s the card they’re dealt with because as their parents, we chose this life for our family.   Good or bad, our kids have to deal with whatever problems come with the choice that we made.  Why should it be any different for children of illegals? 

If this kind of legislation is going to be law all over the country, I guess I’ll just have to call all my relatives in various parts of the world and tell them to come on over, I’ll tell them not to worry about going through the proper channels, that if they wait long enough and live here illegally long enough, their kids will have all the rights and privileges that legal residents and citizens do.  I’ll tell them that filing petions and applications to come here legally is just for suckers who don’t know any better.  Why wait 10, 15, or 20 years when you can come here right now?  Why would anyone in their right mind want to immigrate here legally when there are suckers who propose and pass legislation that reward illegals?  Think that doesn’t happen?  You’d better believe it does. 

Anyone hear the story about the camel, the camel’s owner, and the sandstorm?  If you haven’t, it’s a story you need to read because there are striking parallels to what’s going on here!

If we want to reward someone, let’s reward the thousands who are waiting to come to this country legally.  Let’s reward the families who have been separated from loved ones for years due to a backlog in immigration by pushing their petitions through immediately and granting them legal residency.  To reward families who are here illegally is a slap in the face to every immigrant that has come here legally and to every worthy applicant that is waiting patiently for his or her chance to immigrate legally to this country.

Now, I support medical care for illegals because I believe that medical care shouldn’t be withheld from anyone regardless of their citizenship or ability to pay. I also don’t have too much of a problem with the fact that they’re already getting a quality free education at the elementary and high school level alongside other lawful residents and citizens of this country.   But to spend my tax dollars to help offset an illegal person’s tuition at our state universities and colleges?  Absolutely not!!!

From what I hear, quite a few of our Samoan people are here illegally as well.  There’s probably just as many Samoans in this situation in other countries as well, New Zealand, Australia, etc.  It sounds as if there’s a lot of not-so-above-board things going on.  All I have to say is afai e iai seise o maua i lea kulaga, ia kaumafai e su’e se mea e maua ai lau green card.  E leaga le gofo i Amelika ae popole pe o a fea e maua ai oe.

Confessions of a 40-something Samoan woman

I was getting my daily dose of political news today on cnn.com when I saw a  link to this article,  Confessions of a 40-something woman.  Being a 40-something woman myself, it immediately caught my attention and of course I just had to read it.   Boy am I glad I did.  I loved it.  Kudos to Lisa Kogan for such a hilarious and amazingly honest portrayal.  You’ve got to read the whole article, but here is a little teaser to get you going.

 I know that it’s human nature to want to glorify the past and preserve it in a delicious, if often inaccurate, cotton-candied haze. But the truth is that part of me (that would be the part of me that now needs an underwire bra and a pair of Spanx) really does miss my 20s. I still had that new car smell. I still thought terrorism would stay confined to the other side of the world. ….As much as I miss those days, I’m delighted and relieved to be done with being young.  One quick glance in the mirror is all I need to know that time is most definitely a thief. Wait, strike that: One glance and I usually think I’m holding up pretty well — it’s upon closer inspection, that moment when I take a deep breath, put on my glasses, and turn up the dimmer switch, that I’m reminded gravity is not my friend. But if time has robbed me of a little elasticity and a lot of naïveté, it’s left a few things in their place.”

Lisa Kogan, you made me laugh so you are my favorite person today.  I loved your article so much I decided to borrow your idea (as well as the title of your piece) so I hope you’ll forgive me for such blatant thievery. 

Do I miss being young?  Sometimes, some days.  Mostly it’s those days when I realize that I’ll probably never fit into those super skinny jeans again, (the ones that I’ve got tucked away in the farthest corner of the closet, just in case).  Or when I stare much too long in the mirror and notice the wrinkles on my forehead and the age spots around my eyes.  So yes, sometimes, some days, just a little bit, and just for the briefest of seconds, and then I wake up and realize that being a 40-something woman isn’t bad at all.  In fact, it’s absolutely great!

 Who wants to be “young and clueless” again? Not me, thank you very much. 

Sure the body isn’t so firm, sure the “girls” aren’t as perky, sure there’s a few more gray hair showing every day, but hey what is that compared to the abundance of gifts that I have as a 40-something woman?  What are these gifts you ask?  For starters, how about self-confidence, how about life lessons learned from overcoming, from achieving, and from being a mother.  How about really knowing who I am, and not letting others tell me who, what, where, when, and why.  Finally, how about a sense of security that comes from a certain level of success and maturity, and from knowing that despite your flawed 40-something body, you are loved?  Would I trade all that to be a 20-something again?  Absolutely not.  Being young is way overrated!

Lisa Kogan concludes her article with lessons she’s learned and continues to learn as a 40-something woman.  Since I’m shamelessly copying her idea, why not go all the way –  so here’s my list of what I’ve learned as a 40-something Samoan woman.

• Don’t turn the other cheek.  You’ll only end up with two fat cheeks.  If someone disrespects you, don’t let it go, say something.  You don’t have to fuki slam them, but you do have to make it clear that you won’t stand for that kind of treatment.
• Just say No.  It’s ok to give to fa’alavelaves when you can spare the dough, but if you don’t have it, just say No.  If its for someone that you’d never even heard of, or if its the third cousin of a third cousin’s third wife, just say, “heck no!”
• Don’t just be an opinionated woman, be an educated opinionated woman.  So you think you’re smart?  Then back it up, be informed.  Being educated doesn’t just mean a formal education although if you the opportunity to go to college by all means do so.  If not, you can educate yourself on the issues, on current events, on the history of Samoa and Samoans, and anything you’re interested in.
• If life throws you a lemon, cut it up and rub it on your elbows and knees.   Hard times can sometimes be a blessing in disguise so stop feeling sorry for yourself and find the silver lining in your challenges.
• It’s the journey and the destination.  Both are important, not one over the other.  It matters how we get there and it matters what we do when and if we get there.   Learn all you can from the journey and don’t forget those lessons once you reach the destination.
• It’s what you think that matters.  Stop worrying so much about what others think about you, your kids, your life.  Who cares what they think?
• Your mother isn’t always right.  Sure we respect and love our parents, but they aren’t always right.  One of the signs of maturity and being your own person is recognizing that our parents are fallible, that they make mistakes, and that their opinions, biases, and judgments are just that – their opinions, biases, and judgements.  Just because your mother hates Sina doesn’t mean that you have to hate Sina.  Be your own person, think for yourself.
• Life really isn’t fair.  Sure we’d all like to have a million dollars tucked away somewhere.  Yes, we’d all to look like _____ (fill in the blank) but that’s not going to happen.   And of course, we all wish our lives were just perfect.  But that ain’t happening any day soon, so deal with it.  You’ve got what you’ve got, work with it.  Find what it is you’re meant to do and go for it. 
• It’s good to take pride in your family name, but it’s better to take pride in your own name.  Sure we’re all proud to be descendants of chiefs but what else have you accomplished, what have you done, what have you earned?  Is your one claim to fame the fact that you’re related to so and so?

Excuse Me, but Your Ignorance Is Showing

So my usually easy-going son comes home in a huff today from his last class at the university.  Gives me a peck on the cheek and then pulls out a textbook and says, “Mom, what do you think of this?”

He begins to read it to me (I’m including the article here so you too can judge for yourself):  Here goes…

“You’ve been invited to a community awards ceremony at a local church of Pacific Island immigrants that is to honor students from your school. You gladly accept, arrive a few minutes early, and are ushered to a seat of honor on the stage.  After an uncomfortable (to you) wait of over an hour, the ceremony begins, and the students proudly file to the stage to receive their awards.”

I’m about to tell my son that this disregard for punctuality is one of those things that I find absolutely infuriating, that as far as I’m concerned, operating on so called “Samoan-time” is just downright rude and shows no class whatsoever, etc etc.  But apparently that isn’t the offending paragraph.  So I hold my tongue while my son continues reading.

“…The children all go back and sit down in the audience again, and the meeting continues with several more items on the agenda.  The kids are fine for a while, but get bored and start to fidget.  Fidgeting and whispering turn into poking, prodding, and open chatting.  You become a little anxious at the disruption, but none of the other adults appear to even notice, so you ignore it too.  Soon several of the children are up and out of their seats, strolling about the back and sides of the auditorium.  All adult faces continue looking serenely up at the speaker on the stage. Then the kids start playing tag, running circles around the seating area, and yelling gleefully. No adult response-you are amazed, and struggle to resist the urge to quiet the children.  Then some of the kids get up onto the stage, run around the speaker, flick the lights on and off, and open and close the curtain! Still nothing from Islander parents who seem either unaware or unconcerned about the children’s behavior!  You are caught in the middle of a conflict of cultures-yours and the Pacific Islanders’…What do you do in this situation?”

Well, I immediately see why my son had smoke coming out of his ears, I too was now practically foaming at the mouth!  But I’ll get to my reaction in a little bit. 

Back to my son – he goes on to tell me that he felt so angry as he was listening to this being read in class.  He was about to say something when behind him, he heard a girl say in response to the question, “Well, obviously I’m going to go talk to the parents because apparently they don’t know how to raise their kids right.”  (Dang, I wish I’d been in that class during that discussion).  Ok, ok, back to my son.

He turned around and said, “Excuse me, you have no idea what you’re talking about.  I’m Samoan, and I can tell you that there isn’t a Samoan parent, or another Pacific Islander parent that would let their child behave in such a manner.   I can tell you that my parents raised me to be respectful and to behave and I can also tell you that knowing what I know of Pacific Islanders because I am one, there is no Pacific Islander parent under the face of the sun that would tolerate these kinds of behaviors from their kids.  If anything, that kind of behavior would have been nipped immediately either by the parent giving them “the look” or even a smack right then and there if they don’t get the message.”

Of course I was glad he spoke up, and oh how my hands itched to smack that stupid stupid girl.  The nerve, the absolute gall, the total ignorance of some people completely amazes me!

We talked for a little while longer.  I told my son that I completely agree with what he said in class.  We don’t let our kids get out of hand, if anything we err too much the other way.  I can’t picture a Samoan or Pacific Islander parent that lets their kid behave like a hooligan during such an event.  It’s not Samoan kids or Pacific Islander kids that throw tantrums and fits, it’s not Pacific Islander kids that tell their parents to “shut, the f*** up.  It’s not Pacific Islander parents that let their children walk all over them.  It’s not Pacific Islander parents that let their children do as they please.  No sirreeee!

By the way, according to the references in the text, the above excerpt was adapted from Winitzky, 1994 who states that the invitation and the events (described above) actually happened to one educator.

Since my son has already given this clueless girl a piece of his mind, I’ll direct this towards Winitzky.  Winitzky, your scenario is crap.  Check your sources because there is no way that a Pacific Islander parent would fail to act in the kind of situation you described.  No Pacific Islander parent would continue to just sit back “looking serenely up at the speaker on the stage” while their children are wreaking havoc during an important ceremony.  Unlike some cultures, Pacific Islanders do know what it means to have respect.  We come out of the womb breathing respect, for crying out loud.  A conflict of cultures?  That’s a good one.  I guess the western culture (for lack of a better term) is known for respect and decorum.  Now that I think about it, why respect is the first thing that comes to mind when I think of western culture, NOT!  What a joke!  Something is not right in this picture, and one of you (you or your source) isn’t telling the whole story.  The only thing that this excerpt show is an ignorance on your part to the true essence of Pacific Islander culture.  If you are going to write about another culture, please make sure you really do understand it first.  And you call yourself an educator? Shame, shame, shame on you!

Reclaiming My Waistline (I Hope)

A good friend of mine, who also happens to be a prolific blogger wrote a post detailing her plan to lose weight by May.   There is a performance that she is getting ready for in May and apparently there is a special costume involved.  So she has posted her intentions for all to see.   A smart thing really as all the experts tell us that when it comes to weight loss it does help to write down our goals as well as every morsel of food that passes our lips.

So I’m going to follow my friend’s example and bravely state here that I am going to lose 40 pounds by June.  Why June?  Because that’s when hubby returns from Iraq and I want to look amazing when he sees me at the airport.  To be honest, I’ve had these intentions every year along with the rest of America.  Each and every new year, I’m full of good intentions and resolutions and the first item on the list is always “lose weight.”  And of course, after the first couple of months all those good intentions go down the drain.

So what is different this year?  Well along with just vanity, that is, wanting to look incredible for my hubby, I’ve also got a great network of sistas doing this with me now.  There are 6 of us all trying to lose weight and we’ve all sort of agreed on summertime as the goal line.  Of course, we all have different reasons for this deadline, one has a family reunion coming up, another a wedding, and a variety of other things that are going on in the summer.  We’re all helping each other along this slippery slope, otherwise known as weight loss.

My friends and I, and they really are great friends, have several things in common.   For example, we are all Polys or Polynesians for those who don’t know the lingo:-).   Two of us are Samoans and my other 4 friends are Tongans.  We all live in the same town and we do a lot of things together, take the kids to the pool, trips to the library, lunches at Olive Garden, etc.  By the way, whoever said that Samoans and Tongans don’t get along?  Don’t you get tired of that old stereotype?  I sure do.

We decided to start our own support group since we all have basically the same foods as well as cultural and social attitudes toward food.  No one else but another sista understands that a meal consisting only of a green salad is not a meal at all, that you can only have salads for so long before you go completely bananas, or that a steak the size of your palm should be considred an appetizer, lol.   With such challenges in mind, we’ve decided that we’ll support each other in our weight loss goals but tailor our meals to what we really do eat on a daily basis.

It’s been a few weeks since we started and so far so good.  We’re having fun and helping each other lose weight.  Of course, the challenge is to keep it up and we’re well aware of that.  We also know that there will be some setbacks (i.e. those days when you just have to have the big bowl of ice cream as well as the big slice of cake, or those days when the whole family gets together for to’onai and all the favorites from home are there in front of you) so we’ll enjoy those days but then try to get back on track again immediately after. 

Along with our renewed attention to our diets, we’re also rededicating ourselves to working out.  This is actually the easy part for me as I’m already working out 5 days a week and as I mentioned in another post, I look forward to working out now.  I never would have said that a year ago, but over the last 6 months, exercising started to grow on me to the point where I now hate it when I do miss a workout.  Who knew?

Kokorice and toast

I got up very late this morning due to the fact that I have a bit of a cold.  Well, that wasn’t the only reason.  I did stay up til 3 in the morning reading.  I seem to have frequent bouts of insomnia these days.  I’ve heard that this can be attributed to age, well, I am getting older and older every year, duh!  It can also simply be that I miss my hubby and worry about him all the time now.  I just wish all of our troops would just come home already, after all, that was one of the reasons why I voted for Obama.  But that’s not really the subject of this post.  Actually, think of this as a “how to” post – a how to eat kokorice to be more precise.

So, I was saying that I got up very late this morning, just before 10a.m. to be exact.  The boys were already up and had been up for at least a couple of hours.  I know this because even though I tried to ignore it, I could hear them playing rockband upstairs.  Got up, brushed my teeth, then decided that I wanted something other than cold cereal this morning, and besides it was kinda too early for the left-over chicken casserole from yesterday.  Luckily for us, I had everything I needed to make kokorice.

Kokorice is a yummy concoction of rice, coconut milk, and cocoa.  In Samoa, its called kokoalaisa, but my kids have called it “kokorice” since they were small, and that’s what it goes by in our house.  Now I love kokorice for a number of reasons: 1, it’s super easy and fast to make. 2, it’s pretty cheap and it goes a long way if you happen to be feeding a whole army of nephews and nieces who just happen to drop by since it’s a holiday and school is out for the day. 3, it makes me feel good knowing that I’ve fed my kids a nice hot breakfast at least for that one day. 4, you really can’t screw it up even if you’re one of those people who burn just about everything else.  Just add lots of sugar and the kids will love it:-).

If you’re going to have kokorice, you have to have toast to go along with it.  I don’t know about you but here is how my boys eat kokorice.  The oldest will eat his pretty much like most of us except for the fact that he likes to put a couple of cubes of ice in his while it’s steaming hot.  He claims it makes it tastes better, never tried it so I wouldn’t know.  Instead of having it with toast or bread like most people, our second oldest prefers his with Doritos.  I’m not kidding, Doritos.  If we happen to be out, then just plain potato chips will do for him.  Absolutely weird, and gross as far as I’m concerned, but hey he seems to like it and so far it hasn’t made him sick yet.   Now our youngest will not scoop it up and eat kokorice with a spoon as one would expect.  Instead, he dips his toast in it and then bites his toast and dip by dip he manages to finish most of the liquid in his kokorice leaving the rice for either dad or mom to finish.  Did I miss the part about finishing our kids foods for them somewhere in the parent manual?

So there you have it, a “how to” eat kokorice courtesy of my boys.  All you ever needed to know about this favorite Samoan dish! If you are dying to try it out and don’t have a clue how to make it, there are a number of sites that offer recipes for a variety of Samoan dishes, just google “kokorice recipe” and it’ll come up.  Honest!

There is something about the food that we grow up with that just makes you feel better, isn’t there?  Kokorice and sapasui does that for me, and fa’alifu kalo and pisupo of course.  Oh who am I kidding, I love all kinds of Samoan food, they may not be good for my hips but they definitely make me feel better, lol. 

Now I have Samoan food on the brain, next post will definitely have to be about the tastes and smells at the makeki fou in Apia.  Pink, yellow, and green pagikekes, there’s a throwback to the good old days back home.  Fa’akau papa anyone??

Dark-skinned palagis

If you don’t know what that means, that refers to those Samoans who for reasons that I can’t even begin to imagine, do not want to be known as Samoans. The true fiapalagis, in other words.

Let’s face it, every community probably has their share of these idiots.  Talk about a case of low self esteem!

I was speaking with my husband tonight on skype and he happened to mention that he ran into another Samoan soldier there in Iraq.  Unfortunately, this Samoan soldier doesn’t want to associate, speak to, or be acknowledged by others as a Samoan.  Of course that got my — in a knot and I have to vent – so sorry guys.

What is so wrong with being a Samoan? Why would one be ashamed to be acknowledged as one?  Believe me, I’ve met more than a few of these myself too so they’re not as uncommon as you’d think.  Granted we have our problems, we have lots of problems as a community if truth be told.  We have our dumbheads and our troublemakers, you know the kind of people that give other Samoans a bad reputation.  But hey, so does every other race under the face of the sun.  There are rotten stinky apples in every ethnic group and community.  So why?

I am reminded of the day our oldest son found out he and his brothers weren’t 100% Samoan.  Yes, I know you’re all going to be shocked to hear this, but somewhere in my kids lineage, there is a palagi man.  Their great great grandfather.  (Gasp out loud).  Anyway, back to our son. To say he was disappointed is an understatement.  He looked at us as if we’d somehow let him down.  We reassured him that he was mostly Samoan, and that seemed to do the trick.  Of course, he was very young then.  Today as a young adult, he knows and is proud of the fact that he is not only Samoan, but also part palagi and he is doing a great job honoring all of who he is.

Back to my question.  Why? Why would someone be ashamed to be a Samoan, a Tongan, a Mexican, a Filipino, a whatever? 

I read a couple of new books recently, both fictionalized accounts of what life was like for Jews under Hitler.  One of the things that touched me the most was the courage exhibited by both young and old. These were ordinary people who refused to deny that they were Jews even though they knew full well what it would cost them.  I’ve read about the holocaust since I was a young girl but reading about this horrific time in our history gets me every single time.  Who can ever forget Anne Frank?  By the way, if you haven’t read “The Boy in the Striped Pajamas” you have to read it.  It’s geared for teens but it is a must read for everyone, besides you can easily read it in a couple of hours.

In case my palagi friends out there get the wrong idea, I’m not saying there is anything wrong with being a palagi.  We should be proud of whoever we are.  Some of us may be both a palagi and a Samoan, or a Chinese and a Samoan, or a Tongan and a Samoan.  If that’s you, celebrate you are.  Be proud of all that you are.  Many of us come wearing more than just the one hat.  We’re not just one or the other.  We’re many pieces that have come together to form the one.  All of that makes us who we are. I haven’t even thrown in the Samoan-Irish-American part yet:-).  The point is, whatever you are, whatever blood you have running through your veins, embrace it, honor it!

So my friends, if you happen to know someone who is having such a bad case of fiapalagi, please tell them to get off it.  Better yet, tell them what the kids in Samoa say when they’re telling someone to take a hike, “ia fa’a pa a’e lou ulu ile sima ga le.”  (Translation) “there’s a concrete wall, why don’t you go smash your fat head against it.”  You’re Samoan, deal with it.

Samoan-American

Undoubtedly, many of our kids who are born and raised outside of Samoa face a real dilemma. 

On the one hand, they have it easy.  Real easy in a lot of ways. After all, Samoan kids growing up in America (like mine for example) enjoy the kind of life that those who are growing up in Samoa can only dream of.  Many of our kids have no clue about the hardships that the kids in Samoa face, that we faced when we were growing up.  Some would say that our American born kids have it made and in a lot of ways, that sentiment would be absolutely correct.

Yet, in many other ways, they also have it a lot harder than those of us who grew up or are growing up in Samoa.  Our kids are expected to walk a fine line between who they are as Americans and who we expect them to be as Samoans.  Those of us who grew up in Samoa  never had to face such a dilemma.  Samoa and Samoan culture was all we knew so we weren’t torn between two conflcting and competing cultures. 

Speaking as a parent, I expect my sons to take pride in the fact that they are Americans.  Because they are Americans, I expect them to contribute to their community and to their country, to be grateful that they are citizens of this great country.  I also expect them to take advantage of every opportunity that is here for them.   I tell them that there is no reason why they can’t be whatever it is that they dream of becoming when they grow up.  I fully believe that as their mother and I think I’ve drilled that into them enough times for them to believe it too.  This dream, the American dream, is one of the best things about America and one of the things that I love about it the most.

However, I also expect my sons to not be so American that they forget that they are also Samoan.  I expect them to embrace and rejoice in the fact that they are citizens of this great country but I also expect them to remember and live their Samoan culture.  Is this practical?  Is it asking too much?  I suppose what I really want is for my sons to take the best from both.  This sounds so easy to me but I know that to a teenager, that fine line isn’t always so obvious, it isn’t so apparent in their minds. 

I think that sometimes this identity struggle is a lot harder on our youth than we imagine.  Perhaps, this struggle and the confusion that comes with it is one of the reasons why some of our youth make the poor choices that they make.  They see and hear one thing at home yet the world outside as they know it is completely different.  How can we as parents, as a Samoan community help them?