I’ve decided to start some semi-structured home schooling with the children. Seeing as we can’t get them in to any of the independent English speaking schools and they don’t know how long it will take for a space to open, this seems like a really great opportunity for us three independent women to explore our new country and learn through doing! Oh emergent and inquiry based learning how terribly exciting! I envisage us learning math, literacy and social sciences based on real life experiences such as; taking trips to the local markets and purchasing our groceries, visiting museums and cultural centres, becoming immersed in Samoan history and culture and developing our Samoan language skills. Then the girls can each keep a journal of their experiences and document their new-found discoveries through literacy and art. Will my fantasies live up to my expectations? Probably not, but I’m going to give it a red hot go.
It becomes quickly apparent that this home schooling gig is going to be harder than I thought. Even though we have just bought a car, I am still a little bit apprehensive about taking long trips by ourselves (so much for being a fucking independent woman! Hangs head in shame). I spend the first couple of days comparing Australian culture, specifically Indigenous Australian culture with Samoan culture through language, religion, dance and art. I finally have internet in the house and we Youtube a shit load of stuff which the girls love - yay videos. Then I ask them to write about the differences and similarities between the two cultures – booooooooo writing. Here we enter a world of pain. Cue the whinging, rolling on the floor and tears. Ok, I can do this, I CAN DO THIS COME ON! Just think about all your teacher placements and your uni stuff .... what did they say at uni? Right intrinsic and extrinsic behaviour management let’s see if we can behaviour manage this situation ... It quickly deteriorates. I bribe them to write then send them to their room. I am a bad teacher and mum. This continues for the rest of the week. We go out, we experience something really interesting then we come home, I ask them to write about their experiences and they crack the shits. I’m starting to dislike my children. There is a light at the end of my home schooling tunnel of doom – and it is called gelati. Yep, there is one gelati shop in Samoa and I am very excited to say it is located exceptionally close to our house. We take a break from this nightmare and muster up all courage and walk to the gelati shop. Now, when I say we must up all our courage, there is a reason why walking is somewhat of a dodgy exercise here in Samoa. The dogs. There are two types of dogs here in Samoa; the feral dogs that roam the streets and villages and the ‘pet’ dogs that roam the streets and villages. Both will chase you and if they get the chance they will bite you. It is recommended that you carry either a large stick or umbrella when you are walking to defend yourself against said dogs. It must be noted here that the dog problem in Samoa has been addressed by the Government and is not as bad as it used to be – apparently it was awful. Another tactic is you pick up a big rock and throw it at the dogs if they come charging up to you, even pretending to do this causes the dogs to run away. Like I said, we walk to the gelati shop and ... nothing happens (phew) except we eat some friggin awesome gelati. Honestly this gelati rivals the gelati we have eaten in Australia, this was well worth the adrenalin rush. I think we may have found our new ‘local’. Mother’s Day rolls around. What a very odd experience, it feels weird to have the day to decide what I want to do! Every other year it is a battle between my parent’s and my in-laws. Not this year baby, not this year. However, I feel kind of empty and don’t know what to do, must be because there is no drama, no constant threat of argument. After deliberating for practically the whole day we take a short drive to the Botanical Gardens and take a walk around, so relaxing, so peaceful. Oh look the Robert Louis Stevenson tomb walk! Apparently it is only a 45min walk up and back and after the girls pester us to do it we start the gentle walk to the top of Mt Vaea. It quickly turns into a slippery, steep and not so gentle walk, but we have come this far and walking back down seems more dangerous. We decide to keep going. As we are hiking I start to get that dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach, that oily gut wrenching feeling of a panic attack that is about to start and rip out the front of my chest a la Aliens. Keep it together, the girls are seemingly enjoying themselves and no one else has the look of fatal terror on their face so why do I? We finally make it to the top and it is a beautiful view. For me I am just relieved that no one broke an ankle and we sit and contemplate the marvel of nature. I see that the loop walk is meant to be longer but obviously less steep, so it is decided we take that path back down because it is better ... right? WRONG OH SO MUCH WRONG! This is the path from hell. Yes, granted it is not steep, however the path is in many places roughly 30cm wide, slippery with a sheer drop on one side to certain doom and in most places, it isn’t even a path, more of a rocky river of sludge. I feel the Alien making a come back and this time I can’t stop the panic attack... here it comes! My husband takes the front, the two girls in the middle and me at the back ready to catch any small child that may slip and fall down. Apparently certain doom is not on the children’s radar because ‘this is great’. I am not convinced, in fact all I can think of is: it’s late, the sun is setting, this track is fucking treacherous, we have no first aid kit and I am shitting myself! At one point I nearly cry, I am going to be totally honest with you I was that panicked. There were some moments of wonder though, for instance: Why are there so many broken flip flops on this path? Who the hell is wearing flip flops while hiking up this mountain? And how is it possible for that strapping young man (who is shirtless btw) able to run past us up the mountain? It felt like it took for ever, I’m not lying here when I say I was eager to get to the bottom of this track. The husband turned into Grug from The Croods – every five seconds he would say with his hand up in a stop sign: “Wait ...... ok. Wait ...... ok”. The girls thought it was hilarious, if I wasn’t so scared I would have laughed too. We make it to the bottom and I can finally breathe. That was terrifying, I am never doing that hike again. I know this hike would have been nothing to most people, in fact they would have found it enjoyable, but I am not one of those people. As I always knew, I’m more of a sit on the beach with a mimosa type of person, you know low key. Happy Mother’s Day, now who is up for some GELATI!
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