MY FOURTH WEEK IN SAMOA
By Alison
(I took leave from TAFE for 18 months to be a 'spouse'
and keep Digby company while he worked in Samoa. This was the first
time in my life that I had not worked, and it was difficult adjusting)
The Women’s Network
It is interesting to reflect on how you find your feet in
a new place, particularly if you do not have a work environment to develop
your contacts. My first contact was Janet at the airport when I arrived –
while I was waiting for the luggage to come through she gave me some great
info and invitations – when I asked how she spent her time she said that she
played bridge and went to the aerobics class every day and worked as a volunteer
at the local school in the library a few days a week. So I turned up at the
gym called Health Attack – in my mind it will be forever Heart Attack – and
Janet was the first person I met and she introduced me to Joanne, from Canberra
and Betty. Last week Betty asked if I would like to come to the weekly morning
tea and gave the phone number of Diane who lived near me and could probably
give me a ride. I also turned up at the Tiapapata
Art Centre and signed up for art classes every Wednesday and met the teacher,
Wendy, who is from the US and married to a Samoan – been here 10 years – and
at the art classes I met Robin, from Canberra and Chantal from France, both
of whom are professional women in their own right on leave while their husbands
work out their 3 year contract in Samoa. And so it goes on – while I was at
my first art class Ecotours Samoa came through and I met Steve Brown who was
running a tour and stopping off on the way and this led to other things. Surprisingly
it is Steve who is the closest to being described as a kindred spirit
Art Classes
Every Wednesday morning I attend art classes, and
when I feel inclined I go and spend Friday morning there as well just
working on my projects. We have been doing printing using lino cuts, and this has been a wonderful medium to work with
– gouging away at soft lino and digging
out the grooves – just like carving your name in the desk when
you were in grade 5. I have been working with fruit images and have
decided to try and make a set of postcards of the different fruit at
Cape Trib, so that who knows it may become something
else we can sell to the unsuspecting tourist. It has been really good
to just sit and gouge and gouge some more and talk to Robin and Chantal
and get to know them a bit more and get their advice on Samoa . Then you roll the ink over the lino cut, place a card on it and then roll it so that the
ink impression is transferred to the card. It has really got me in –
have now created cards for Durian, Carambola, Rollinia.
Women in Samoa
My understanding of what the cultural expectations
are for Samoan women has been developing – I may have mentioned
earlier that I have been invited to join the Gender Equity team meetings
at the UN – have yet to actually attend a meeting, so will keep
you posted on that. But from the reading and the discussion I am learning
that the Samoan culture and gender equity do not fit at all.
Brenda, the nutritionist on the fruit tree project
has lent me a book ‘Taimatai Samoa’ which is the individual stories of seven
Samoan women, all considered high achievers and now in their seventies
or dead. It was a most humbling book to read. Several things really
stand out: the role of the NZ govt in providing scholarships; the women’s
ability to stand up to their husbands' wishes to stay in the home; and
yet what seems like a contradiction – their commitment to the
fa’a Samao (the Samoan way) which virtually expects women to serve
their families and their husband’s family especially. The wife
is so busy doing all the domestic duties for the husbands
family, she does not have time to bring up her children, which are often
brought up by the husband's sisters – the extended family tends
to live in the same village though this is now breaking up. So they
managed all this and still were able to achieve in a community sphere
as well, though admittedly in the classic girl professions such as teaching
and nursing. The scholarships were a real circuit breaker – when
they were introduced in the forties, the Matai (the village chiefs)
wanted the power to decide who would go , and
of course would choose their own children. The NZ govt said no, it would
be decided on merit and girls would also be eligible. These young women
went off to NZ, stayed in church hostels or with families and had to
cope in a whole new culture.
We were invited to Wendy’s for dinner last Tuesday
– about 12 people there – none of whom we knew and one of
them was a young smart Samoan woman in her early thirties – Eliza.
Eliza was the first Samoan I have really had a heart to heart chat with
– and I was glad I had read Brenda’s book because it helped
me understand her own circumstances. She left the village at 17 as a
scholarship girl, went to NZ, freaked out at school and learned to cope
with the English and the expectations, went on to get an accounting
degree, married a palangi, who was into video
production. The marriage broke up after 2 years and she decided she
wanted to come back to Samoa and help her country. She has set up a private video production business
which produces a monthly video magazine on the latest news in Samoa for all the Samoans living abroad. She
has bought her own house and is completely independent. We talked about
how she could not fit in back in her village – she said she could
not accept the violence – adults to children and men to women,
and she did not see how she could ever develop a relationship with a
Samoan male because he would not see her as an equal. In discussions
about the violence later, Wendy said there was an organization called
‘Stop Smacking Your Children’ and there was also a push
to try and reduce the level of corporal punishment in schools, which
apparently is also fairly high and widespread, as part of the fa’a Samoa.
The Fia Fia
On Wednesday night we went to Aggie Grey’s Hotel for
the weekly Samoan dance performance – I thought I was a bit slack
taking 4 weeks to get to one, but my neighbour Ann who has been here
for 2 and a half years has never actually been to one. It was rather
good and very professional.
The fire dancing was particularly memorable –
if you watched the New Years TV show which went round the world you
may remember the fire dancing which was beamed around the world. Well
seeing 10 young men with muscles cavorting in front of you with fire
sticks alight at both ends, leaping and spinning and dancing is much
better than watching it on TV, doing backward somersaults, their bodies
glistening with sweat, all reflected in the pool. The performance was
full of fun and energy - all the dancers are staff at the hotel.
Although this is essentially a tourist experience,
it is possible to gain an insight into aspects of Samoan culture. One
memory that will stay with me for a long time was the young woman proudly
raising her missionary style neck to ankles costume with puffed sleeves
and loud floral pattern to exhibit her tattoos to the audience of over
100 palangis - she did it with such dignity that the element of
voyeurism was replaced by admiration and respect.
The next day in the street, the wind exposed another
set of tattoos on the shapely legs of a young modern Samoan woman -
but the only person who usually gets to see these tattoos is meant to
be the husband. Apparently the church does not approve of the tattooing
but it still goes on, even under threat of being barred – so it
is quite a commitment and I am amazed that young women are still undertaking
it.
When Digby had the fruit trip to the other island
Savaii, he came to a community centre where all the men from the village
were meeting to tattoo a young man – Dig and his work crew were
there to prune the trees, and all the time they were there, they could
hear the groans coming from the man being tattooed, lying on the ground.
Later we were told it can take up to 3 weeks, every day, being jabbed
with this shell blade 1 cm long , like a toothbrush
with lots of little saw tooths which is laid on the leg after being
dipped in ink and then hammered into the leg – tap, tap, tap –
with two attendants fanning and holding his head while he moans in pain.
As well as the dance performance there was a buffet, and
the interesting part was that they has a whole section of it devoted
to Samoan food so we had – wait for it – Sea cucumber, sea
urchin, as well as more normal things like banana cooked in coconut
milk and taro leaves with coconut cream (palusami)
and breadfruit cooked in coconut milk, followed by dessert of papaya
cooked in coconut milk. You start to get the idea that the basis of
Samoan cuisine is something cooked in coconut milk – and it is
coconut milk prepared from first principles (first find your coconut
tree) – not the stuff in the can which I have on good authority
is like canned asparagus as opposed to the real thing. So one of my resolutions is to learn how to actually make real coconut
cream and a traditional palusami. Agnes
next door (my Samoan neighbour who is so shy!! has the coconut grating
doover by her back door so I am going to rock in with a coconut and
get her to show me how to do it.
Tiavea
Last weekend we went to the far east of the island to a
remote village called Tiavea. Robin and Chantal
both mentioned that this area was the most remote and that there was a long
4 hour walk along the coast (which neither of them had done between 2 villages
and no roads, and some of the best bird watching on the island)so we decided we would go and check it out, maybe walk a bit
of the way, and just see how it went. The track to the village was about
5 km and was just a bulldozer scrape which had grassed over and wound its
way down from the ridge to the beach below. There were very few cars that
used this track and as we drove down we passed several people coming up with
horses as pack animals.
When we got to the beach and the village there was a sign
with the charges for the privilege of parking/swimming etc and a group
of kids and a woman materialised to collect the money from the rich
palangis. As we were the only show in town, a few others
gathered to watch, including an old man who turned out to have been
a worker at one of the agricultural research stations where digby
now works – once he discovered this common ground he appropriated
us and told us to shift our car and park it at his house (fale)
so that he would look after it for us while we were away – “I
work for you” – were his words. When we told him we planned
to walk to Uafoto, the other village his jaw
dropped in disbelief that anyone who had a car would want to do such
a stupid thing – ‘the track goes up and down up and down’.
We didn’t get much specific help so headed off
along the beach and came to the river which we had to cross. In true
Australian style we thought that there would be a crossing upstream
a little way where we could step across and headed up stream to find
it – well what we found was a group of young women all washing
in what they thought was privacy until digs and I thundered through
the bush. Interesting that they are washing, covered in soap suds but
still wearing sarongs (lavalavas) which cover
neck to knees. One of the girls spoke excellent English, came forward
and introduced herself, shook hands with me, wanted to know my name,
what we were doing etc. she said she had done the walk, leaving at 6
am and returning at 4 pm with her cousins from Hawaii, her name was
Leh, and when we came back we should look for her at the house
on the corner.
She told us we had to go back to the beach and cross
the river there – which we did with digby
wading out into the surf carrying the daypack above his head and jumping
the waves which came up above his armpits. Then we walked along and
found the track in the plantation of bananas and breadfruit and followed
it up onto the ridge into the rainforest – real rainforest which
is rare in Samoa and then down into the next bay which
was a beautiful sandy beach with no-one around. Along the beach, there
is a fire still smouldering, but no one around. We could not find where
the track left the beach and wandered around for a while and then gave
up and went back to Tiavea.
At Taivea, the village was
sleeping, and soon woke up when we arrived back. Robert provided us
with 3 coconuts already husked and with great style knocked the top
off for us to drink – what a great drink it is – with all
the coconuts falling on the ground at Cape Trib I keep making these
new resolutions. Leh appeared with her cohorts – aged 18 years single
girls plus the proverbial kids gathering around – it took me straight
back to being in the Himalayas with all the same curiousity
and friendliness – and the questions – how old are you,
how many kids you have, is he your husband, where do you come from,
how long you stay I Samoa, and with Leh there speaking beautiful English we actually had some
meaning ful exchanges. Leh
had finished school in Apia and had learned her English at school – amazing – and
now hung out with her mates who we had disturbed washing at the creek.
She said she would come with us on the walk and show us the track when
we came back, and that we could stay at the beach huts run by her friend
a bit further down the road. So we probably will.
When discussing this with Chantal later at the next art class, she
was able to fill me in on the lack of a road to the village –
there is no school – the kids have to work 2 hours up to the village
school on the ridge and 2 hours back at the end of the day – and
they are hit by the principal for being late. She has been trying to
sort out how an aid program could build the road so a bus could get
down there – the samoan govt is not interested as it is so much money.
Chantal also knows Leh from her own sojourns
there.
The Bahai Temple
Five kms up the road from us in
the misty hills looking down over Apia is a Bahai temple – the architectural design is stunning
and it is set in landscaped gardens with a sweeping promenade leading
to the building which looks like a beehive. There is only one Bahai
temple on each continent, and this one in the Pacific is rather unusual
– when I asked why it was there it seemed to have something to
do with the Samoan head of state being a bahai.
There is a community of Bahai people who have settled in the vicinityf,
including Wendy and Steve Percival who own the Art Centre. Wendy invited
us to the last Sunday’s service because it was a special one to
celebrate International Women’s Day.
The opportunity to close up how the building worked
seemed a good one so we toddled along. The Bahai
believe in the ‘oneness of mankind’ – there is only
one god who is common across all religions who have had a variety of
prophets coming along on his behalf. They also believe in the equality
of women which is where Eliza gets her support to live in Samoa as she chooses. The service itself was interesting – about 300
people – 95% Samoan – the local tv
camera crew turned up to film – yes we were recorded on tv
actually attending a church service – I don’t know whether
that helps or hinders our credentials. Brenda commented to digby
that she had seen him on tv last night –
this is a small place!
The acoustics were great for singing – the massed choir soared
out into the space and the echoes seemed to enhance it – but for
speaking it was terrible, the echo was so long that it ran while the
person was reading the next sentence – you needed to wait about
30 secs after each phrase and most of the speakers did not do this so
it was all a big babble, as most of it was in samoan anyway it really did not make that much difference
to us. The Bahai do not believe in ministers
– everyone is equal – you do not need someone to intercede
between you and god – so there was no sermon – the service
was made up of the choir singing, interspersed with readings taken from
the book of Bahai’s founder who wrote
in the 1800s.
After the service we all went over for a huge morning tea to the pavilion
set in the gardens and lots of people came up and introduced themselves
to us, and of course once they discovered digby’s reason for being in
samoa asked him if he would come and have a look at their
fruit trees. I can now imagine a little of what it must be like being
a doctor in a social situation, with everyone wanting you to listen
to their symptoms and give a diagnosis over a cup of tea! During morning
tea, we got the sermon that we missed out on in the temple – from
a visiting bahai who was an indian
fighter pilot who had worked at Bamaga for the last 10 years with the
council. He was a bit of a ranter, with no intellectual rationale or
logic behind the statements he was pronouncing – you can see my
own values coming through here – and I felt sorry for the islanders
at Bamaga who no doubt listened patiently to it all for 10 years.
The following Tuesday Wendy invited us to dinner with about
10 other people – and the guest of honour was this guy again who
was invited to address the guests between the main course and dessert
– and we had another disjointed rant which lasted about 30 minutes
– when I got home I was so angry with all the claptrap and illogical
thoughts, it took me a couple of hours to calm down.
So I have had my religious dose for the next 10 years.
Wendy prepared a beautiful dinner and this is where I had the long in
depth chat with Eliza,
so the evening was interesting despite the sermon. There was no wine
– the bahais do not drink alcohol – and we wondered what other
rules were imposed, as they claim that they do not adopt any of the
social or cultural mores of the religions such as with the catholics
not being allowed to eat meat on Fridays – they say they have
cut through all that.
The Atele Orchard
I went out to the govt orchard at Atele, one of the places
where digby works,
although up until now he has not spent much time there as he has been
concentrating on the orchard at Nafanua. Atele is a much larger orchard
with thousands of trees – there is a mangosteen block of about
3 acres, the trees look about 4 years old and many are getting sunburnt
and have had the shade protection removed too soon. Walked down the
road in the orchard – the windbreaks are soursops and jakfruit
and casuarina planted 2 metres apart. Walked
along the soursop row and lots of rotten soursops on the ground, lots
of ripe ones in the trees so I collected an armful and took them back
to the car – digs and I pulped them and froze them for juice and
then made soursop icecream which we took to
Wendy’s for dinner and it was a great hit.
There is a huge papaya plantation – they are
all at least 3 metres tall and they pick them with a long stick which
knocks the stem and then you drop the stick and catch the fruit as it
falls. The vine was about 2 feet deep amongst the papayas, and then
I discovered pineapple rows completely covered by the vine interplanted
with the papaya. I went out on a papaya picking expedition with one
of the young women – she knocked them with the stick – I
caught them as they fell more or less. With all the
vine on the ground if you miss, they often have a soft landing, but
there are volcanic rocks strewn through the whole orchard (oh for a
bulldozer) and hidden by the vine so some of the dropped papaya splattered
everywhere. There were lots of rotten papaya
still on the trees. We walked randomly around for about an hour fighting
our way through the vine, stepping over the rocks – ok for a hobby
but not for a business.
Then into the abius and
rollinia grove – thousands of ripe fruit
on the trees which are in beautiful condition, with all the fruit dropping
on the ground uncollected. My overwhelming reaction was that I wanted
to step in and take charge of harvesting and marketing of all this fruit
so it was not wasted!!!! I can’t help myself can I?
The whole thing seemed inefficient and disorganised (to my eyes), the
citrus so overgrown (digby has now taken charge of the
pruning teams) that it made my fingers positively itch to turn it into
something productive.
Future Plans
From meeting Steve at the Art Centre, I have arranged to
join his next 7 day ecotour of Samoa which takes
in 4 islands and 4 nights are spent staying in villages – the people he knows
and the places he will take us – the bus has 4 seakayaks on the roof – will give a different insight into
the place and I am really looking forward to it – a couple from Germany, a
couple from the Netherlands, me, a local samoan,
and an ecotourist student. This tour starts on the
7th April.
I have arranged with Chantal to give me private French lessons
– 2 x 1 hr each week until the mid of June – so 16 lessons which will brush
up my schoolgirl French from the 1960s – I am amazed at how much I have remembered.
So this will put us in a really good position to travel in France through the alps. Who knows if I get really
keen, when digby goes back
to Australia I might spend the next month in france by myself, rather than Ireland. But I may be
sick of the French by then – who knows – I can just decide when the time comes.
