Finding answers in Samoa
We had left American Samoa with a few questions, the first of which was, just how different would Samoa be from its nearby cousin?
I was surprised to see that, as we arrived in Samoa, there seemed to be a similar shallow atoll around the island. I imagined these larger Pacific islands to be set in deeper water, but I was wrong!
We sailed into the harbour of Apia, carefully following the deepwater channel with waves breaking beside us. Once again, there was a welcome party on the quayside, but as we'd berthed port side today, we missed it. Never mind.
So, out on our chosen tour, “Coastal Villages, Falefa Falls and Tropical Gardens”, the first thing I noticed were the garden mausoleums in the same style as we'd seen yesterday.
Our guide, Sepha (“You can call me Joseph or Gorgeous if you prefer”) was in good spirits and in chatty mood. We learned later that he does the breakfast show on Samoan local radio and certainly, those skills were very much in evidence from the start. Knowing that we'd come from American Samoa, he was keen to make some comparisons and asked if we'd noticed anything already. This Englishwoman immediately chirped up, “You drive on the correct side of the road!”
Our driver was comfortably settled into his fur-lined seat (what is it about these trimmings?), with a huge extended gear lever and so many trinkets and stickers on his windscreen, I wondered how he could see where he was going.
.
We drove along the coastal road, noticing the roadside planters made from old tyres, immediately recognising the care that had been taken to enhance the area.
As we drove, Sepha explained about life here and the importance of the community. We learned more about these buldings we'd seen yesterday - called fale we learned. They were a place to sit and chat with friends, family and neighbours. In villages such as those we were passing, everyone supported each other and the community as a whole would share everything.
Every village had a Chief - the bigger the mausoleum, the more important they had been - who were elected and supported by their community.
Here, Sepha explained, at 6pm every day, the chief would blow his conch shell and life would come to a standstill for fifteen minutes prayer and meditation. Everyone would stop what they were doing, if they were driving, they'd pull over and pray in their car. Life comes to a stop for fifteen minutes at 6pm.
On Sunday, everyone joins their community for a day of prayer and rest. Everything closes on a Sunday, for that's the day when family comes first. We spotted a sign by a beach that stated “no swimming on Sunday” and Sepha said that it's absolutely forbidden to work on that day. It's time to rest, watch TV and spend time with family.
Chiefs were in charge of keeping their village under control. If someone committed a misdemeanour, then they would be required to sit outside their family home 24/7 for as long as their victim felt appropriate. Sepha said that could be days, weeks or months, depending on the situation and clearly, it not only drew attention to the miscreant, but also brought shame on their family. He added that for serious crimes, the police would be involved, of course. But local trouble was kept under control in the community.
An interesting discussion then, brought to a halt when we arrived at St Peter's Church, a beautifully painted building looking especially good in the bright sunshine.
The painted detail was spectacular and the interior absolutely immaculate.
THe altar was set in front of a large piece of volcanic tufa, which set it off with appropriate importance.
The colourful stained glass wasn't really stained glass at all, but painted with such precision, it was very effective indeed.
As we left, I noticed the small container used for the Holy Water
…and the additional custom trims to the wheels of our bus!
Our next stop was Falefa
where we knew from our itinerary, there were waterfalls.
Sepha offered a warning of a flight of uneven steps to reach them, which prompted me to hand my camera to my Hero whilst I stayed in the glorious garden right there at the top of them.
After ten minutes or so, I heard a huffing and puffing as the group made their way back up to the top again, with comments such as “not quite Niagara” and the like. Actually, my Hero took some pretty nice photos and though he also felt it was underwhelming, he nevertheless thought it had been a pretty spot.
Our next stop was in another garden, this one planted with fruit and coconut trees and which had been set out for us to sit and watch a demonstration of shucking a coconut. Again. Was this the third or fourth time we'd seen it done?!
Sepha was quite the showman here, leading the show for the whole group.
But I will have to say, he didn't do it as well as his predecessors in American Samoa!!
Coconuts shucked and fruits tasted, we were on our way again, downtown this time and over the Vaisigano Bridge to see a rather different side of Samoa.
Sepha had prefaced all his tales of Samoan village life with “except in Apia”, for it was clear that if one wished to escape the rigours of the community here, all that was needed was to move to the city. Here, there were no six o'clock conch shell horns, nor were there community chiefs ruling the roost. What there was, though, was a lone policeman on point duty at the main crossroads, because a storm last week knocked out some of the power supply.
We drove along a wide boulevard between shops towards the central market.
Here we had fifteen minutes or so to do a quick run around and see what was on offer. I had hoped to find a pretty sarong/pareo but as has been the case all along, the best designs are to be found on the worst fabrics. The cotton ones I liked best were never so attractive. Maybe in Fiji tomorrow, where I bought my current favourite some years ago?
One thing I did spot was this bundle of fibre was it coconut? I don't know. But it looked like the stuff the guys had used as a sieve when squeezing out the coconut cream during the shucking demonstrations. Here, I think it was being sold as a natural alternative to a shower scrubby.
Out last stop was around the corner, the cathedral.
Here was a magnificent building with the most specacular wooden ceiling, pieced very much like a three dimensional parquet floor. The sides of the nave were open and though there was a slight breeze blowing through, it was still quite hot inside.
Here were the same painted glass windows that we'd seen earlier in St Peters Church, but the general feel was so very much more grand.
Most eye catching of all was the Samoan Last Supper, painted on the lower rim of the cupola high above our heads. We sat down on a pew and gazing up, would have happily sat there for longer…
except that our carriage awaited us!
It had been a fascinating day and we'd learned a lot. I wished I'd known more about Samoan Culture before I had arrived - life is so very different here from the one we lead!
