Saturday, October 3, 2009 11:17:46 PM PT
Slept for 10.5 hours today. Man, I’m just totally wiped out.
We woke up in the afternoon and went into Seattle. Katrina hasn’t been feeling well, seems like a cold is trying to get her. Hopefully the sleep will start to turn things around.
We had a great day in Seattle, though. Absolutely, no question, the best food we’ve had since January of this year. The stuff we’ve been cooking at home in Alega has been good, too, but in terms of going out somewhere to eat, today was just awesome. And I had my first good beer in 9 months. It was a local brew from Pike Brewery. It was all right, but normally not something I’d write home about. In this case, however, I’m writing home about it.
Seattle is just such a beautiful city. It’s very clean, the people are super-nice, and Pike Place Market just stuns me every time. Flowers, fruit, handicrafts--all wonderful. Had the best apple today that I have ever had in my whole life. It was a Honey Crisp apple, and the sweet juices just ran down all over my mouth. Just incredible. (The apples in American Samoa are terrible. Worst apples I’ve ever had, by a long shot.)
Well, we have a very early flight tomorrow, and another long day of travel. So I should wrap it up here. But let me close by saying how wonderfully amazing it is to be back on American soil. It’s almost bizarre. Still too close and too much shock to have more thoughts on the differences between island life and mainland life. But I’ll put something together sometime soon.
peace,
Mark
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Friday, October 2, 2009
exhaustion in airports
Friday, October 2, 2009 11:23:45 AM HT
In Honolulu. exhaustion is setting in. I almost fell asleep sitting on the floor of the airport with a magazine in my hand. Had the loudest snorer i’ve ever heard sitting next to me on the plane.
Katrina just said, “but everyone has a loud snorer next to them on the plane.” I responded, “no--not like that guy.”
Next stop: Seattle. And hopefully, sleep.
In Honolulu. exhaustion is setting in. I almost fell asleep sitting on the floor of the airport with a magazine in my hand. Had the loudest snorer i’ve ever heard sitting next to me on the plane.
Katrina just said, “but everyone has a loud snorer next to them on the plane.” I responded, “no--not like that guy.”
Next stop: Seattle. And hopefully, sleep.
Leaving, On A Jet Plane
So, we have managed to fly out tonight from Pago Pago. I write to you all from 30,000 feet, about one hour outside American Samoa, and heading to a US state for the first time since January.
A lot of mixed feelings. On the one hand, relief. Relief to be getting off the island. Relief to be leaving behind the perpetual madness that is American Samoa, and specifically the madness that is currently under way. The looting, the rubble, the dust, the destruction.
And yet, at the same time, it is odd because this doesn’t feel like the best time to leave. There are real needs here that can be fairly overwhelming, and I know Katrina feels in some way responsible to her patients. But the “responsibility” she feels is not one birthed out of guilt. No, she has developed a very real love for her patients. She’s been frantically calling the ones she’s had phone numbers for, just making sure they’re OK. This is part of the deep respect I have for her--she truly cares about her patients, in all aspects of their lives. A rare quality indeed. And so it feels weird. How can any doctor leave on a night like this? A night when the needs are so many.
Look, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been dying to get off this island for quite awhile now. And in some ways, our departure couldn’t come at a better time for us: our village will be without electricity for probably a month, the mess of the island is intense, and the rebuilding effort hasn’t even really begun at all. There’s just the dichotomy of wanting to leave, and wanting to stay. In many ways, that is perhaps the necessary tension at this point. Our trip home had been planned for quite some time now, and we could not have easily moved our plane tickets, our hotel reservations, our wedding date, etc. So I am personally not regretting the decision to leave as planned, it’s just that we live in this tension. This necessary tension.
Over the course of the next few posts, I’ll try to share some of the stories we’ve heard. The stories of survival, and the stories of loss.
Sorry it’s been a little while since my last update. I hope it will be easier to stay in touch over the next few days. Now then, on to Honolulu, and then Seattle.
Fa’afetai lava,
mark
A lot of mixed feelings. On the one hand, relief. Relief to be getting off the island. Relief to be leaving behind the perpetual madness that is American Samoa, and specifically the madness that is currently under way. The looting, the rubble, the dust, the destruction.
And yet, at the same time, it is odd because this doesn’t feel like the best time to leave. There are real needs here that can be fairly overwhelming, and I know Katrina feels in some way responsible to her patients. But the “responsibility” she feels is not one birthed out of guilt. No, she has developed a very real love for her patients. She’s been frantically calling the ones she’s had phone numbers for, just making sure they’re OK. This is part of the deep respect I have for her--she truly cares about her patients, in all aspects of their lives. A rare quality indeed. And so it feels weird. How can any doctor leave on a night like this? A night when the needs are so many.
Look, don’t get me wrong, I’ve been dying to get off this island for quite awhile now. And in some ways, our departure couldn’t come at a better time for us: our village will be without electricity for probably a month, the mess of the island is intense, and the rebuilding effort hasn’t even really begun at all. There’s just the dichotomy of wanting to leave, and wanting to stay. In many ways, that is perhaps the necessary tension at this point. Our trip home had been planned for quite some time now, and we could not have easily moved our plane tickets, our hotel reservations, our wedding date, etc. So I am personally not regretting the decision to leave as planned, it’s just that we live in this tension. This necessary tension.
Over the course of the next few posts, I’ll try to share some of the stories we’ve heard. The stories of survival, and the stories of loss.
Sorry it’s been a little while since my last update. I hope it will be easier to stay in touch over the next few days. Now then, on to Honolulu, and then Seattle.
Fa’afetai lava,
mark
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