That afternoon we checked into Vaisala hotel in Savai'i. Vaisala may be the nicest accomodations on the island even though some rooms (ours) lack hot water. Some water is heated via solar panels (popular system on both islands) but apparently not every room is sun kissed. The water for each room has it's own tank feeding it. If your tank runs out of water, that's that. There was also a distinct lack of ambiance and the beds were kind of bowl shaped... but we were right on the private beach which was cool, we changed into our suits and took a dip. We waded out around the cement skeleton of what was once a walkway to the overwater honeymoon fale.
The walkway supports and a cement staircase next to the hotel which dead ends mysteriously in the treetops are reminders of two devastating hurricanes which ravaged the unfortunate island in the last decade. The hurricanes were also responsible for a dangerous decline in the flying fox population - blowing many a furry cutie out to sea never to return. Villages were destroyed. People drowned as the ocean crashed higher and higher up the mountain. The rainforest project was seriously hindered. Dr. Paul Cox wrote a book about the establishment of the rainforest preserve. The book is called 'Nafanua' and discusses the damage from the hurricanes and their effect on the environment.

That evening the hotel was serving dinner upstairs from seven to nine. We shared a balcony overlooking the ocean with four other guests. A sudden rain and wind storm chased us all inside and gave us the opportunity to share a table with two of the guests. The young blond honeymooning couple kept mostly to themselves. The two women were on island on business, they worked for an Australian aid department which helps develop and monitor education on some of the more remote islands in the pacific. One of the women was a Samoan from Upolu, the other was Australian.
The women were delightful company and gave us loads of information about the island. We also learned that the Australian woman found nothing amiss with the ketchup - leading us to believe it might be cinnamon flavored in the outback as well.
Dinner for my mother and I was bread and butter, a huge pile of miniature spring rolls, and some dry slabs of taro. To everyones dismay, desert for all of us was a papaya. The Aussie woman showed us hot to douse it in lime which made it much more palatable to my mother and me, but not to my father who didn't find it much of an improvement. I'd take papaya over coconut juice any day though, Lorien.
Back in our room I was delighted to make the acquantiance of a tiny little gecko, barely two inches long from tip to tip. I watched for the rest of the evening with rapt attention as he darted out from behind the headboard catching the little winged bugs that would land on the wall by the light. I flipped through my Samoan language book and found him a name - Ta! means strike. But maybe it means to go on strike or to strike out in baseball, I can't be sure, but I chose it anyway.
I continued my streak of nearly sleepless nights, even with the comfort of Ta! being busy at work, and by morning I had succumbed to a sinus infection that had been threatening since the plane ride from honolulu. My parents went to breakfast the next morning, but I felt too ill to go. When they got back we drove to the rainforest canopy. We were excited about a long hike and a strenuous climb into the trees. I even brought my backpack with platypus pouch to keep me hydrated in the heat. We paid the mandatory guide at the entrance fale, walked a few yards into the jungle on a well cleared path, climbed a short staircase to a platform, walked across a suspended bridge one at a time, climbed another staircase and we were done. The banyan tree was huge and the view was beautiful, but we were a little confused. Also, a fire a few years back had wiped out a lot of the forest and the new growth was relatively not tall. Thanks to the hurricanes, the trees weren't exactly dripping with flying foxes either.
After our morning of adventurous bushwacking, trudging through the jungle and climbing to dizzying heights, we got back in the car and drove further along through the lave fields to a nice spot we'd heard about for lunch. At least, the map said we drove through the lava fields. I think the slightly less than solid wall of jungle area where there might have been one less tree per acre must have been the lava fields. Vegetarian lunch for my mom and me was french fries, garlic bread, and salad; the only three items listed under 'sides' on the logato resort menu. I maintained a steady level of drugs all day to try to comfort myself from the sinus infection. I had left my just in case antibiotics in American Samoa and we were days away from going back there.

I elected to skip dinner and watch Ta! again because of the infection. There was a live band at the hotel however, so I eventually went upstairs to listen. The wind was cooperating, so we all sat on the balcony with the four man band - three guitars and one of those broomstick sticking out of an upside down washbasin style basses.

What's brown and sticky?

They sang some songs about Samoa as well as some international favorites in Samoan - The Boxer, Iko Iko, and something by the Beatles.
There was a commotion at the next table as the Aussie woman jumped in her seat and made a sound of surprise. My dad started laughing and I looked over in time to see a gecko scurry off her plate. She looked up at the gecko that was still looming and we all laughed. Gecko fights on the ceiling can really interupt a meal.



[ BACK ] [ NEXT ]