The $33 Coors Light

Despite not writing in awhile, there has been a fair amount of excitement and news (at least as much as an island of 78 square miles can have).

One evening last week, while sitting with a cold Vailima in the mostly deserted cafe where I normally work (and hijack the TV to watch sports games), a fellow drinker started up a conversation with me.  Three hours later, I made it home alive, but $33 poorer.  Here's how it happened:

Micah, who was probably in his mid-40s, 6'5 and, like Samoans, built like a truck.  He also had that look that made me think there was an ever-so-slight chance he could be a deranged killer.  That should have been my first hint.  The second should have been that he was drinking---a lot---by himself.  Anyway, the social part of my Tuesday evening was coming to a close--Lisa has just arrived and we were going to walk home together.  But Micah wouldn't really give us an opportunity to leave.  He kept blatantly hitting on Lisa, and every other girl within view.  He went on and on about how we are now his friends---no, his extended family.  What is his is ours, blah blah blah.  He really wanted me to go out with him to bars in Tafuna and I kept giving him excuses.  After about the 5th time he implied Lisa had me whipped, and after Lisa told him that I didn't have any plans and should go out with him, I consented.

His car was about 30 years old and sounded like it, and Lisa had to move a pile of beer cans to fit in the back seat.  It was okay, he reassured me; if we got pulled over, he knew people and we wouldn't go to jail.  After dropping off a very concerned Lisa, we drove to Tafuna.  First stop: Runway Bar, which just happens to be right next to the runway.  Turns out there was a private birthday party going on, but Micah didn't seem to notice that.  Some awkward moments for me ensued, where I wanted to just say "I don't know this guy."  Turns out, Micah is a drug dealer.  He has the hookup if I ever want meth or coke.  Great.  That would explain a lot of his behavior---he definitely was coked up.  Problem is he was a drug dealer with a drug problem and no money.  I was beginning to see why he really wanted to bring me...I got to pay for the mess he left behind.  The first time he asked to borrow $20 I gave it to him, since he was scary looking and scary acting, and would be able to pay for my drinks since he had a tab (a lie).  That's when I decided to call a cab.  I had consumed one Coors Light, which probably never got paid for, but that wasn't my problem.  I didn't know anybody; it was a private function; I was with a crazed, high, drug dealer.  I went to tell Micah I was leaving when I saw the cab pull up.  He knew where I lived, so I didn't want things to end on a really rough note.  Lucky the cab was there too, because he had the intention of getting a lot more money from me that night and was acting very threatening.  I got in the cab, shut the door, and left.  After a $13 cab ride, I made it home.  En route I learned from the cabbie that  Micah has a bit of a reputation; he was a guy I didn't want to associate with.  I have not seen Micah since.

There were two trinkets of newsworthy news here last week.  First, a Air National Guard C5 military jet made an emergency landing last Thursday.  The heating system busted, and the cabin lost pressure a few hours into a New Zealand-to-Honolulu flight.  The plane had to fly at under 10,000 feet for 2 hours but landed safely.  I've met a bunch of the guys from the flight since they are staying in the hotel that's attached to the cafe where I practically live.  Want to know where your tax dollars go?  To $70/day rental cars, when buses will take you wherever you need to go for $1.  The guys are still here, since the plane still hasn't been fixed.

My buddy Rob reports that one of the other cruisers anchored in Pago Pago Harbor was attacked last Thursday night.  Two 22-year old guys paddled out, boarded his boat, and beat the crap out of him.  Luckily, someone on shore had seen these scum paddling out, and called the police.  The cops got out to the boat as the two men were trying to strangle the cruiser with his belt.  The two men are in jail, and hopefully will be there for a very long time.  The victim is in the hospital with broken bones in his face, a broken jaw, and most of his teeth knocked out, but he's alive.  The locals are extremely embarrassed and shocked about the incident (as am I).  There is not a lot of serious crime here--on an island this small, everyone knows everyone.  And it appears the attack was completely unprovoked.  I have no idea what the men wanted from this cruiser...were they trying to pirate his boat?  Where would they go with it?  The guy only had $100 on him.  It seems so crazy to me.

Not Getting Lost, Part 3 (Matafao Expedition)

Last Friday, everyone's favorite South Pacific adventurer took off for the summit of American Samoa's tallest peak--the tall, cragged, usually cloud-covered Matafao.  I personally know of only two people who have successfully climbed Matafao, versus a lot of people that haven't successfully climbed it.  Using rudimentary math skills, I've concluded that  it's really freaking hard.

Lisa tells her roommates how awesome her boyfriend is (with Matafao in the distance)

it's really pointy

balancing on the top is the hardest part

While Mt. Alava, which Lisa and I hiked two weeks ago, has a trail maintained by the National Park Service, Matafao is not a part of the National Park and there isn't any trail mentioned in any guidebooks.  There is an unmaintained "trail" that starts across from the Mt. Alava trail.

an old rusty ladder? hmm...

...so I went up it (across it trailhead for Mt. Alava)

This may look like the beginning of my adventure, but no, it actually started at the Filipino lunch place in Fagatogo.  Since I don't have a car, and wasn't sure if buses ran to Fagasa, and wanted to start from sea level, I walked 3.9 kilometers to the trailhead and got rained on.

View Larger Map

After climbing the ladder, it took me a good 10 minutes to find some semblance of a trail.  And around 2pm, off I went!  Unfortunately for me, I picked the worst possible day for the hike.  If it had been raining and overcast all day, I would never have started.  But I thought the weather was just good enough to give it a shot.  I discovered early on that I would have to get comfortable being drenched for the next 4 hours or so.  There is a reason it's called the rainforest.  This wasn't your typical hike; it involved a lot of scrambling up steep inclines where muddy conditions made things much more difficult.
 

trail in one of the flatter spots

trees sometimes grew sideways; sometimes they made fun mazes

I made some friends along the way

 

the trail was very very wet

 I was a bit surprised to find that there was a somewhat navigable trail! There were pink blazes and orange blazes occasionally, and sometimes it was hard to tell which way it went, but I was not the first person to attempt this route.  It was immediately obvious to me that the two other people who had summited Matafao had each carried a roll of tape with them.  But pink and orange?  Kind of feminine if you asked me.  I should have brought some tape myself to mark my territory.  All I had with me was a big bag of sunflower seeds, headlamp, 8 very wet dollars, and 2.5 liters of Fiji water.  

Soon I found myself in a more interesting situation--off the trail.  At first I figured it was just a lot rougher going here, or maybe the trailblazer had their machete stolen, but soon I realized that I had somehow taken a detour.  No matter, I knew it was going along the ridge and so I was going the right direction and would meet up with it soon.  After a few minutes of really tough going, I thought I had found the trail up ahead to the left.  Nope.  But there was something to the right.  That wasn't it either.  And winding around a bit looking for it, I suddenly had no idea where the hell I was.  I knew the general way the trail was going--along a ridge--but it was very windy, and at this point I was still trying to determine which way was which.  

See what looks like the ground? Nope.
That's just vine branch things that are a foot or so above the ground.

It was really really dense.

Why so dirty?
Sometime I had to crawl under the waist high vines.

I pretty much walked in circles for 40 minutes trying to find the trail.  I tried getting to the highest point and shimmying up a tree, but that failed.  After that I started one direction, decided it was the wrong way, then tried another direction and realized it was the wrong way.  Repeat this a few times and I think I walked in a few circles.  When I was beginning to give up hope, somehow I lucked into the trail, about a 5 minute walk from where I had lost it.  Phew!  I honestly felt such an incredible feeling of relief!  I had cuts all over my legs and arms, and looked like I had just gotten into a wrestling match with a bear, but I had found the trail!  I turned around and backtracked three times before I was able to figure out which way was up, but finally I was moving up again.  There was no way that my struggle to survive would stop me from reaching the summit.

(Note to fellow adventurers: sunflower seeds probably aren't the best trail food, since they make you really thirsty.)

The rest of the way wasn't exactly a walk in the park.  Remember the pictures of the mountain from a distance?  I still had to figure out how to balance on the top and scale near-vertical faces.  As I got higher and higher, the ridge got narrower.  Until for the last few mini-peaks, it was about 5 feet wide with shear drops on either side.  And i was in a cloud and couldn't see.  FUN!

don't look down

weather begins to deteriorate

limited visibility

one of the mini-peaks on the ridge

there really wasn't much room on either side of the trail

the key was not to look sideways

view to the left as I'm about to ascend the narrow ridge

view to the right

 Finally, I made it to the top!  The trip down was difficult because of the muddy conditions and trying not to slide off into oblivion, by I made it down before sunset, and then had the 3.9 kilometer walk back to the market (with a pit stop at a minimart for a nice cold Vailima).  The views weren't great because the top was in the clouds most of the time, but occasionally, I got a clear view to one direction.  Below are some more pictures:

the summit!

sweet view of the runway and reef, with coconut point in the foreground

I don't think he likes me.

Clear view southwest for about 30 seconds

And lastly, a view of the mountain, the next day from the west...

Samoan Birthday Bash

I'm beginning to make it a habit of being in really cool places for my birthday.  Last year, Lisa and I camped and hiked in Yosemite National Park.  This year, I'm in the South Pacific.  Unfortunately though, I had to spend the morning working (prop projections for Game 1 of the World Series).

this describes my feeling about work on your birthday

Work took longer than expected, since my parents discovered how to video chat on google.  To give you an idea of how that went, there was one point when they were asking me how many fingers they were holding up.  I'm making them sound like bumbling fools which is not really fair; the internet in AmSam disappears every time a cloud covers the satellite atop Mt. Alava.  

The highlight of the morning, though, was waking up, rolling over, and instead of finding Lisa, finding sweet new snorkel gear and a box of chocolates. Thanks Lisa!

not your typical fast-food

For lunch, I ate at the Filipino fast-food place in Fangotogo (fast-food here is used to describe anything that has already been cooked).  Lunch was a whopping $4.00.  After spending a few hours on my friend Rob's boat, a 40-foot catamaran that he has been sailing and living in for 3 years, Lisa was finally done with school and we could commence the actual celebration.

Rob (right) talking about volts, amps, and other things I didn't understand

Not Rob's boat

Rob's boat

To celebrate we went to Tisa's Barefoot Bar, the coolest--and only--beach bar on Tutuila Island, for their weekly traditional Samoan feast.  This consisted of putting a bunch of goodies in, on, and under hot rocks (which from personal experience one should not kneel on), and covering it all with layers of banana leaves.  This "oven" is called an umu.

Piña coladas made from actual coconuts

uncovering the umu

 It truly was a feast--we had chicken, pork, turkey, lamb, shrimp, fish, octopus, papayas, tarots, and breadfruit.  I also learned a lot about Tisa's, Tisa, and the history of the island.  Tisa, the owner, is a middle-aged, indigenous woman who is extremely outspoken.  She criticized the U.S. for introducing the "fantasy" of the American Dream to Samoans, who go off to the U.S. now and find it's one big lie.  But she also benefitted immensely from the Americans---50 years ago her grandfather was able to tell the palagi government that Alega and Alega beach was his family's land, rather than communal land.  To this day, Alega is the only privately-owned village on the island...other villages are communal, with a system of chiefs, talking chiefs, and high talking chiefs.  Tisa's is the only place on the island able to serve alcohol on Sundays, since it's exempt from local village laws.  I don't want to get into all the political, economic, and social topics that were discussed, but it really was great conversation, and I learned a lot about the island.

(Out of respect for the Samoan culture, I'm considering becoming a High Talking Sports Bettor; if something needs to be said, the Talking Sports Bettor will say if for me.)

Candyman (a Kiwi who also happens to be Tisa's husband) recounted what happened when the earthquake and subsequent tsunami hit AmSam two years ago.  After the earthquake, Tisa and Candyman got in their truck and drove down the beach telling villagers to get to higher ground.  There was a retired Marine veteran who hadn't spoken in two years, but the event apparently awakened him.  He was yelling at everyone to get beers, meat, and a barbecue in the truck!  Gotta love those priorities.

Below are a few more pictures of Tisa's and the mouth-watering meal:

Lisa and our new friend Dave

as you can see, my background is in photography

The feast was eaten on banana leaves in true manly style...with your hands!

I ate so fast, the food's a blur

Not Getting Lost, Part 2

First, I should give a synopsis of part 1, which I decided not to post before, in hopes of keeping some semblance of pride.  Part 1 consisted of me deciding that I needed to be a real man and climb the ridge behind the house.  After encountering a few Samoans who thought I was pretty crazy, I pretty much decided to try to walk straight up the ridge.  And by walk, what I really mean is crawl/slide on my stomach down until I grab a tree root to stop me from sliding down the mountain.  Somehow, I made it to the top, where I found some pink trail blazes that I followed for 30 minutes or so along the ridge line.  Eventually the blazes stopped appearing, so what did I do? I kept going.  Who cares if I didn't have any food, water, phone, or knowledge of where I was?  I'm an adventurer.  I can handle these jungle-mountains!  And handle them I did.  A few sheer drops prevented me from finding my way back, and I got chased by some wild dogs and saw a scary, bigger animal, but I eventually made it down, mostly by way of sliding on my butt from tree to tree which would slow my fall.  Seriously, going down these steep ridges ain't easy!

shortest distance between two points is a straight line, right?

Fast forward 10 days...

My memory is sharp as a tack.  If only I had food and water I wouldn't have had to cut my excellent adventure short.  So this time, I pack food, water, cell phone, and even Lisa's headlamp.  PREPARED ADVENTURER!!  Last night, Lisa had showed me that I didn't have to go piss of neighbors (who apparently don't like me kicking rocks all the way down the ridge and possibly causing a landslide) by climbing straight up the ridge behind our house.  A short walk from the house is the Blunt's Point trail, which is a half-mile trail up to... Blunt's Point, where I can pretend that I'm a World War II gunman, scanning the horizon for enemy warships, all while watching out for the mutant toads that have laid siege to the cannons.

mutant toad

Mutant toad escapes Lisa's foot of fury

Lisa, distracting the heavy artillery

time check: 4:25pm; turn-around time: 5:45pm

As a prepared and responsible adventurer, I set a turnaround time so I wouldn't be stuck on the ridge at night and fall down cliffs I couldn't see.  I was also determined to stay with the pink blazes, and followed the "trail" all the way to these weird cement things. (Full disclosure: pictures below were from Part 1; it wasn't sunny out yesterday)

see the trail? still following the pink blazes here...

Matafao...next conquest?

the views are great...if you like trees

weird cement things

if a nuke goes off i'm getting in one of those

the only way to stay on the trail is to look in the air for the next pink blaze 

I was determined to stay with the pink blazes.  Where would they lead?  I had no idea.  But I was convinced they would lead me somewhere.  And it would be worth it!  I thought I lost the trail a few times, but instead of continuing on, the prepared adventurer backtracked to the nearest pink blaze, and got back on the "path".  I think someone had sabotaged the trail by putting random pink blazes away from the trail.  Because more than once a pink blaze led me away from the trail (as judged by future pink blaze locations).  Obviously, someone didn't want me to find something.  But I would not be dissuaded!  Not even when the blazes just stopped.  I must have hit the apex of the ridge, as I started going down.  Once again I had to use my butt as a brake a few times.  I started hearing voices of kids; I could make it down pretty easily without having to go all the way back to Blunt's Point.  Why would I want to go back the way I came, when I could do more exploring!  So I continued on, with half of a 1.5-liter Fiji water left, some peanuts, and my cell phone showing 5:45.  

Rather than head down to the voices, I turned left and went along the ridge.  I learned that walking along the side of a mountain is probably not the best idea.  Especially when you're in the rainforest and the ground gives under you.  With the help of some friendly trees, I negotiated the side of the ridge and headed...somewhere.  Rule #1 hiking in the jungle: always keep your weight uphill; Rule #2: know your trees!  I was quickly learning which trees and tree roots I could count on to hold my weight.  Eventually I realized that I was probably going away from civilization so I should probably head down, as it was getting very close to the 6:30ish sunset.  I found a wash, which, although fairly steep, I gauged would be the easiest route down.  And then...the skies opened up.  And I couldn't have been happier about it.  I was covered in dirt all over and it felt like a great shower.

the wash (which became a stream) i followed down 

flattering self-portrait as the downpour began

after 20 minutes of downpour...look at that toughness!

It was raining SO hard with no sign of stopping.  I guess this is why it's called the rainforest...and it IS the wet season.  Man, I was feeling great!!  I even started singing at the top of my lungs, since it was a rare opportunity to do so without having police or animal control called in.  The wash started to fill up with water, and I was a bit concerned about flash flooding, but the water felt so good.  And I knew it would lead me down.  Just as I was finishing "American Girl" I came to a bridge over the stream.  I pulled myself out and stopped singing.  Best not to scare the locals.  I had made it...I knew I still had a long walk back, but I had hit civilization.  Perfect timing too, as it was just getting dark.  

But my adventure wasn't over yet.  And there was no time for photos of this last, unexpected part.  Suddenly, 5 dogs jumped out and started running at me.  I'd been taught well by Lisa and her roommates.  I brushed the ground, as if picking up a rock, and feigned a throwing motion.  One dog hesitated for a second, but then started charging again.  I was yelling "Halu! Halu!" like any well-trained Samoan would, and faking throwing rocks, but these dogs were having none of it.  I never knew dogs to be this scary!  I could see all the teeth on the lead dog and he started biting at me...I kept backpedaling but the dogs were right on top of me...until...I fell off the road and down a hill.  I said a few PG13-rated words.  I had hit my left knee on a rock pretty hard.  But I took off, running through the brush.  I got down to the road father down, only to have 4 more dogs come at me from another side.  Crap!  This time I found an actual rock and was read to use it, but just as I was about to, a woman started yelling at the dogs.  They were her dogs...and with some persuading, she convinced them that I wasn't yummy dog chow.  Whew!  They wouldn't have actually hurt me, right?  Actually, these were her guard dogs, and trained to attack intruders.  "You are very lucky. I'd better walk you down," she told me.  I could see why.  I guess the dogs had sounded their doggie alarm, because 15 others that had come out for the excitement.  I kept the rock in my hand, just in case.    

Some shirtless rugby players were walking back to their houses.  Who better to judge toughness than rugby players?  "You weren't scared of the warthogs?"  "You are lucky you escaped the snakes."  They had some interesting ideas of what lay in the jungle.  This tough palagi is now invited to play rugby this afternoon!