Richard Rieckenberg Biography

Sent on 15 October: We got a very large donation of food from Starkist Tuna yesterday. It comes at a great time since we have had some trouble getting our supplies shipped from the mainland. We have plenty of stuff but getting it here is difficult. The Starkist man told us that his company originally decided, on the advice of the governor, to make the donation to FEMA. He went over to their office, spent a frustrated half hour over there and left. He came over to see us.

FEMA is alright but trying to make a donation to them is like going down to your local Motor Vehicle Division and trying to make a donation; you just get a lot of blank stares. You might even get arrested if you get pushy about it.

Anyway, FEMA doesn't look the part of a disaster relief organization. They are too comfortable. Their experience with the Samoan climate is the time that they spend going from their air-conditioned hotel to their air-conditioned car to their air-conditioned office and back. Suffering, for them, is settling for iced coffee at McDonalds instead of Starbucks (there being no Starbucks on the island).

The secret to getting donations is to look like you are caught in the hellish vortex of the disaster as it swirls around you. I believe I am the expert in this regard. I have perfected the Humphrey Bogart/African Queen haggard, grimey, disheveled look. If you catch me in the heat of the late afternoon, my bloodshot but puppy-dog eyes and sweat-soaked shirt are nearly irresistable to the average donor.

I am jealous of FEMA for their restful nights, their meal allowance, and the healthy bonus they get each day for enduring the rigors of field work. It is also a little annoying as a taxpayer. When you think about it, though, they miss everything about this experience that makes it worth doing. For us, at the Red Cross compound a little ways away, some times are miserable and some times are wonderful but, either way, we are living each sweaty, grimey, beautiful, joyful, visceral moment to it's fullest. A soft sunset, the first cool breeze of the day, and the sound of the Samoan workers singing their prayers at the end of the day's work are always beautiful, but these things are ten times more beautiful and poignant following the blood, sweat and tears of the day. On those occasions it is more than a sunset, a breeze and a song. It is the touch of God.

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American Samoa Tsunami
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No Laundry For You!
18 Oct