Trailer #2

Here is the the latest trailer to my upcoming documentary. Hope you enjoy!

Bienvenidos a Chile

Fishing Fleet in Zapallar

Santa Inez (my home)

Three weeks have passed rather quickly since I arrived to Chile. I've spent a lot of time adjusting to the new culture, practicing my spanish, and filming at the markets, ports, and cultural attractions around Vina del Mar and Valparaiso. At first it was hard to communicate, being that I hadn't practiced any spanish in over two years. But I quickly got up to speed, mostly because few people if any speak english. I ended up spending my first day in Chile down in the filming trenches (so to speak), shooting footage at the Valparaiso fish market. Here fishermen wake up early, around 3 am, jump into their tiny yellow boats and brave the cold foggy waters of the South Pacific. By about eight in the morning they have landed enough fish to sell for the day, having to avoid the large oil and cargo tankers that begin to appear around this time. Using a winch on the end of an old pier, the boats are pulled one by one out of the water. The fishermen then line their boats up in order and begin hawking their catch.

Tradition Chilean Fishing Vessels

The Morning's First Catch

By 9 the market is abuzz with activity. Locals buying fish, fishermen yelling, and workers untangling lines. Dogs run excitedly back and forth between the shellfish stands and the boats and the sea lions clutter the beach barking madly for a meal. For my first day in Chile it was quite an adventure.

Hombres at Work

El Jefe

Woman at Work

I was stunned to find out during one interview that generally speaking most fishermen make around $150 US per month. That's right. Not $150 a day or $150 a week but $150 in a month. This particular fisherman told me honestly that's its nearly impossible these days to make money as an individual fisherman. There is so much competition with foreign Spanish and Japanese trawlers and such a lack of large fish that the industry is nearly sunk. Through missing teeth and sunburnt lips he told me that most of his food comes from whatever is leftover at the market. It was an enlightening but sad first encounter in Chile.

The Market

Shellfish Specialty

Old Boat in Zapallar

I'm glad to say though that although it was sad to hear this one fisherman's story, Chile is alive with friendly people and a willingness to share their culture. Three weeks have passed and I've been invited to homes, barbeques, soccer games, and car races. The family I live with are perhaps the most hospitable, kind people on the planet. They continue to astound me everyday with their selfless and caring ways. They've taken me all over this region of Chile from the dunes and coves to the north to the vineyards to the east. I've gotten a chance to glimpse the great Andean cordillera which I hope to visit sometime soon. I've even walked with crazy winding streets of Valparaiso with its hundred year old ascensores (hillside elevators) and angular houses and I've ridden the convenient but incredibly fast micros (buses). Of all the peoples I have met on my journey so far, I'd have to say that the Chileans have already made me feel more comfortable and accepted than anywhere else. Each day my eyes are opened by how little they have but how much they give.

Tasty Looking Grapes

Samoa Comes to an End

Looking back on my time in Samoa, I would have to say it was a memorable four months. From the wonderful people and unique culture to the stunning beaches and constant sunshine, Samoa will forever be a paradise in my mind. Shooting a documentary gave me the opportunity to meet all sorts of people from spearfishermen to traditional siapo-cloth makers. Traveling throughout the country gave me deeper insight into what is at the essence of Samoa. I remember working on the plantation with my friends, planting taro, cutting down banana trees, and drinking coconuts by the dozen. All the while under a beautiful blue sky and warm tropical breeze. Then there were the moments spent around the bonfire on the beach, listening to homegrown guitar music and swapping jokes and language. I still catch myself laughing thinking about Fao Fao, my best friend/ 4 year old nemesis who followed me around everywhere, copied everything I did, and somehow taught me some amazing dance moves. I recall sitting in the middle of the empty street at night, talking with my adopted brothers Paye and Tuua and watching people of all ages walk by on their nightly jaunts. Then there were the days spent helping the girls with their chores and English, and letting them make jokes about me in Samoan for hours all the while not understanding one bit. Talking with my adopted mom Rosa and hearing her stories from her youth everyday at lunch was perhaps my favorite part of the day. Jumpstarting cars, killing pigs, harvesting shellfish and hunting octopus, wrestling with the kids, cooking palusami, climbing coconut trees, dancing, learning Samoan, running from Fafafines, listening to people sing, and hearing more gossip than I thought a small village could ever produce was just a day’s work in Saleapanga. When I finally said goodbye to all my family’s tearful faces and my plane took off out of the jungle heading for a new continent, it was hard to imagine living somewhere else.

So here I sit, almost two weeks in Chile and well on my way into my third and last adventure. I live in a wonderful little home with a Chilean family who in some ways remind me of my friends back in Samoa. But here there are no coconuts chugging sessions or scores of little kids just waiting to trip you up. Here there are giant mountains and massive deserts. And a new type of people work the land and live amongst the coastlines, plying the waters for a living. Just last week I spent a few hours at the local seafood market and watched through the fog as little yellow fishing boats were pulled out of the sea by their owners who sold their catches along the shore. I also walked the eccentric winding streets of Valparaiso with its ancient acensores (elevators) and Pablo Neruda inspired architecture. And the other day, I was sitting on a three hundred foot sand dune that dumped right into the ocean, an ocean that I had traveled in part, that stretched all the back to the origins of my journey last July when I landed in New Zealand.

I have just over three and a half months left to my trip and I couldn’t be happier with what I’ve seen, filmed, and learned. Now that I am well past the halfway point, I have begun thinking about home again and all the family and friends that I miss dearly. I look forward to seeing you all very soon and I hope that you will check in to my blog a few more times before this August for some more Chilean adventures, photos, and videos.

Ciao!

Latest Photos

Tana and Afa hanging out

Classic Samoan Thunderstorm

Harvesting on the Reef

4yr old Fao Fao himself (Samoan legend) and my best friend

First Month in Samoa

Its been almost one month since I arrived in Samoa and what a month it has been. I left Auckland on the 8th of December on a crowded flight with expatriate Samoans returning home. The atmosphere aboard was enlivening, just about everyone was excited about arriving. Women wore flowers in their hair and men wore lava lavas which are very colorful and long (like wearing a towel). After a bumpy flight we arrived to pouring rain and sweltering heat. Walking out of the plane was like being dunked in a hot tub. Even though I was in shorts and a t-shirt, I was dripping within minutes. Falealo’lo airport was tiny. We walked down a set of old stairs from the plane and across a tarmac surrounded by green, verdant jungle. Grabbing a taxi, I headed into downtown Apia, about a fifty minute drive from the airport.

My first few days I spent in Apia, getting my bearings and trying to figure out how to avoid the torrential rainstorms that seemed to appear out of nowhere and leave just as quickly. More than once I was soaked walking the fruit splattered roads of Apia. The largest town in Samoa, Apia has a population of 40,000. After a few days in town I had had enough and so took a wild bus ride to the south coast. Its about a two hour drive across the mountains. Covered in jungle, huge banyan trees, and waterfalls, the Samoan highlands are impressive considering the tiny size of the island. Once across, the simple two-lane road winds its way along the coast and through village after village. The majority of Samoans live along the coast, making a living from family-owned plantations. Papaya, mangoes, pineapple, taro root, coconut, breadfruit, and wood are common harvests. There is also a lot of subsistence fishing. You can find people fishing the reefs daily, either walking out with nets or speardiving. Most Samoans live in simple houses which don’t have walls but columns. As you drive by you can see all the belongings of a home. My favorite time of day to drive by is around noon when everyone takes a nap in the shade to avoid the intense heat. If you were new to Samoa you might be worried because bodies just litter the sides of the roads. When not sleeping or working, most Samoans hang out on the roads, waving as people go by. The buses are also an experience in their own right. Huge and painted in tons of colors, each is unique and belongs to its driver. Every bus has a slogan on either the front or the back. My favorites still are “Why Me,” “Bring Them to me Alive,” “Who’s Next,” and “Bon Jovi Express.” You almost always share your seat with a few other people. One of my favorite things about Samoa is the fashion. Traditional fia fia dresses are incredibly beautiful and ornate with inlaid flowers and designs of all sorts.

Anyhow, my first ride to the south coast was an experience. I was headed for the beach fales located on the eastern end of the south island. Fales are traditional thatch roof dwellings with intricate palm-frond sides which you can tie up during the day or let down at night for privacy and protection from the rain. The floors sit about three feet above the sand to avoid extreme tides from the nearby sea. The best part about fales is that you can see and hear the ocean at night and during the day you jump right out into the sand. If you want to live on the beach a Samoan fale is the absolute best way to do it. I ended up meeting a young guy named Va’a, who was twenty-two and ran Fao Fao beach fales, a collection of fales on the beach with a huge open fale restaurant, shop, and performance fale for weekend fia fias (dances). Va’a and his extended family live across the road from the beach and are wonderful hosts. Fao Fao is located in the village of Saleapanga, about 5 miles from the eastern end of the island. Fao Fao fales is an awesome way to experience tropical beaches while retaining a connection with traditional Samoan life. Much of the food that is prepared comes from the local plantation, you share many of the same facilities with the local families, and after a while become friends with just about everyone from the smallest toddlers to the eldest chiefs. I’ve found my behaviors, attitude, and daily schedules mirrors Samoan life more and more. I sleep during the hottest hours, wake up early before the sun rises, and go to bed well before ten. I too spend time just watching cars go by or waves slide by and in many ways I enjoy the simple life that exists here.

To be continued . . .