Driving Samoa Style

Feature of Library of Samoa building

Road behind library - one of the main roads in the central business district. It would be one of the worst roads due to the heavy traffic made up of buses and trucks.

One of two main bus stops in Apia showing the colourful buses

Living as we do in the outskirts of the Capital of Samoa, Apia, getting hooked up with reliable transport was one of our first concerns. For most locals we speak to, they are horrified that we live so far out- it is a full 8km to the centre of the city.

The road switch bought in early this year has meant an abundance of both right and left hand drive vehicles. Samoa previously drove on the right hand side of the road, so the road switch was supposedly related to access to cheaper freight vehicles from Australia and New Zealand, where many Samoan people earning AU and NZ dollars could pay to send a car to their family at a more realistic rate than shipping from the US. We have heard on the grapevine that it was also related to the PM falling out with the major car dealership in the country. The switch has bought in many new dealerships which have essentially wiped out the former market control held by that company.

For now, both left and right hand vehicles are on the road. It is incredibly disconcerting when a vehicle turns across your path and you find yourself looking at a five year old in the front left hand seat where the driver should be.

We have rented a tiny but mighty Terios to see us through our time here. We are learning that there is a unique style to driving in Samoa.

It is slow- the speed limit is 40km an hour to ensure no mishaps in the early days of adjusting to the road switch, down to 25km an hour in busy pedestrian locations. I can honestly say that I have never seen anyone get as low as 25K aside from one guy who was clearly drunk and having difficulty picking a lane.

It is bumpy – the roads range from the excellent, such as the main road into Apia which is currently undergoing major work (pending election!!), to the horrific. Our road is one of the latter. Some potholes on our road our up to 30cm deep, with several patches of holes leading to our location that defy any attempt at avoidance. They deteriorate with raining weather. Beyond us, further up the hill, is actually a disaster, and we actively avoid it. The Terios can only take so much.

One of the curious observations when we moved here was just how far Samoans will go to avoid a pot hole or bumpy patches- often crossing to the wrong side of the road or driving at a snails pace. We figure it follows that when freighting vehicles here is so costly you will go out of your way to avoid wear and tear. Travelling down our road requires much of the same. We have been told that there are five separate MPs that live on our road (there are some quite amazing ocean views from the high side), but the local member is from the opposition. Sum total is little value in directing government investment to a location that “belongs” to someone else’s voters.

Driving here is also noisy. Samoans toot their horns to say hello. They toot to say “here you go, I’ll let you in”. They toot to thank you for doing the same. They also toot to say “WTF?”

The tooting often accompanies the unexpected give way to the right. When turning left off a road, it is common practice here to give way to the right- letting those coming in the opposite direction that are turning across you to go in the same direction move into their turn first. This is apparently not consistent with road rules, but happens nonetheless (check that- have just confirmed it is actually the rule here- oops). You get many toots from behind when you back up the road to allow it, but just as many belligerent toots if you don’t. I have a mantra when it happens- Man, whatever, I’m not in any hurry. I felt marginally better when I watched a pair of Mormon missionaries get stuck giving way to ten cars in a row, getting tooted in both directions. One give way per turn is my standard.

Any other day than Saturday and any other location than the markets, I just go with the flow or the toots, whichever offers direction first. Drive the market road on a Saturday and all bets are off- it is true bedlam. Last Saturday, one side of the road swelled to take up three lanes, forcing the oncoming traffic almost onto the sidewalk. The thoroughfare was mad with cars, taxis and buses going every which way. All within vision of a singular traffic cop whose only intervention was to walk slowly up the road, eyeballing the cars. That did the trick with each side of the road clearing, back to single lane traffic. Paul looked at me with a slightly manic grin and said – this is what it is all about. As long as you are driving Paulie, it sure is!

Slow moving days

Days here move slowly, and I find myself surprised that it hasn’t taken much to adjust to this pace.

It goes without saying that our lives in Brisbane were busy. Between working fulltime, attempting to juggle the needs of our children and our careers (not always successfully) and studying, it often felt that we moved at two speeds- flat out or standing still.

The weeks were flat out, with little time to unwind. Getting home after six, assembling a meal (rarely did I cook as such - god invented “buffets” to save working mother’s sanity), washing, feeding, preparing for the next day. I would eventually stop at about eight once the kids were in bed, and watch mindless TV just to bring myself back down so I could sleep- that’s if there wasn’t work or an assignment to do. Everything would grind to a stop by Friday afternoon, where the ritual was wine, takeaway and anything goes as far as the kids were concerned (including desert first and letting them stay up way too late so that we could spend a few hours enjoying the company of friends). By Sunday lunch, thoughts of the week to come would creep in and uniforms would be ironed, bags packed, lunches made. A good week would be making it to the gym twice, and as for any other time for myself- well, it was rare.

A typical day here looks something like this:

7:00am – Wake up, shepherd kids, self and husband through showers and breakfast. Please note that Paul has registered an official complaint to his inclusion in this sentence.

7:50am – Drop the kids of at school.

8:00am – Gym. I am a member of THE gym in Samoa. Ricki, the manager of the accommodation complex, who is something of a local celebrity himself having been the compere of an early Samoan Idol style show a few years ago, told me that the Prime Minister was working out there this morning, along with several owners of major businesses here in Samoa. I have looked up a picture so I can say Talofa appropriately. Coincidently we also visited the Australian High Commission to vote this week. Seeing very little of what is going on at home but hoping for some stability.

9:30am – Head off to a local café for breakfast after showering at the gym. Read the paper (major corruption crisis in the Samoan Red Cross is making headlines most days, with multiple claims and counter claims) and fend off the sad eyed street sellers, all of whom are either children or disabled. I am reluctant to give them money after Ricki told me a story about giving a child 2 tala then watching him go into a shop and come out with a lit cigarette. As enjoyable as the leisurely breakfast is, I miss the multiple excellent coffee spots around the State Law building. There is no fresh milk in the country and a flat white is just not the same on long life milk.

10:30am – Visit the Samoan library to exchange my books. I have been lead to believe that Samoans are not allowed to borrow the books! I do know I am the only palagi currently borrowing books as my last three entries in the book (all manual systems here) were the most recent borrowing activity. I have yet to find a book that was purchased prior to 2002 and many are covered in a fine layer of dust which I assume is indicative of just how little they are picked up and read. I am currently working through the Bonfire of the Vanities and an old Ken Follet.

11:00am- Pick up vegetables and fruit from the local markets for dinner that night. Bunches of local Boc choy (equivalent of $1.25AU), bananas ($1AU), carrots ($2AU), limes ($2AU a bag), coconuts ($1AU for four) and perhaps a whole tuna ($20AU).

11:30am – Bit of housework (though not much, we are currently getting our unit serviced twice a week including fresh sheets and towels). Yes I am smiling with much satisfaction as I write this.

12:30pm- Lunch sitting by the pool while reading.

1:00pm – A bit more reading or perhaps checking the internet.

1:50pm – Pick up the kids and supervise homework.

3:00pm – Swimming in the complex pool. Catch up with Jenny, Ricki’s wife and shoot the breeze about life in Samoa and juggling family and work. I am appropriately supportive - her life is very busy (the complex is really a 24/7 job and there are many family obligations to meet for both her own and Ricki's families) while secretly feeling very smug that I am on holidays!!

5:00pm – Pick up Dr Paul if he is not engaged in cutting off legs or removing burst appendix.

6:00pm – Dinner.

7:00pm – Conversation. Can you believe it? With very poor TV reception and a generally low tolerance for US Christian TV channels (which perversely are the only clear ones on the TV) we actually engage with each other. With black outs common we have even gone all little house on the prairie and pulled out jig saw puzzles which we work on together (captured in the picture above). Paul and I have been working our way through some TV series we bought with us on the hard drive. Does anyone know what the go is with the United States of Tara-will there be a season two?

8:30pm – Bed. Not always the most tranquil of experiences depending on weather and the dog factor. Paul has taken to yelling at them out the window when the barking gets particularly bad. Apparently they get quite territorial when visiting dog gangs invade their territory, a common occurrence at our neighbours.

Yes, I have probably laid this on a little thick but it is not too far from the reality of my life at the moment to all of our benefits. God knows how I will adjust back to Brisbane in December……..

Week five- Things I have learnt about Samoa so far

1. Body language – This one really deserves an entry of it’s own. Samoan people can communicate very effectively saying very little, using a series of eyebrow raises and hand gestures. Flicking the eye brows upwards quickly can be used as a gesture of greeting, often along with a chin raise. I am having immense fun raising my eyebrows at everyone and getting “replies” (but have so far refrained from busting out my gang fingers to go with it).

All of this is done with an impassive, expressionless face. I have had it explained to me that this comes from both the warrior heritage and living in “fale” housing. Fales are open structures with a roof and floor but no permanent walls (they often have blinds or other temporary walling to cater for the weather). The subtle non verbal communication provides some privacy in villages where everything can be seen.

2. Friendliness- People in general are very friendly, and we get greeted everywhere we go. Living in a semi rural area it hasn’t taken long for people to recognise us on the road, and I wave to many of the same kids on the street while they are walking to school each day.

A cab driver I had used earlier in the trip recognised me at lights this morning (in our respective vehicles), tooted at me (when driving here tooting can mean everything from hurry up to hello to a invitation to merge) and called out “where are you going?” This seems to be a pretty common opener and not at all rude or demanding.

I hope that learning some basic phrases in Samoan shows respect and we can say hello, ask how they are, say thank you and wish them a good day. As with us, many of the Samoan people seem to have at least this amount of English in their vocabulary and anything beyond it can be met with smiling silence. Those with good English often speak with an American accent, which is apparently associated with the Mormon church school system here. Either that or bad American television.

3. Queuing- In Samoa, to ensure you are recognised as next in line, you need to stand very close to the person in front of you. This one took me a while to figure out after several instances of people pushing in on me in lines.

Standing further back to provide personal space to the person in front of you means that you are not seen as actually being in the queue. It happens at the ATM, when lining up to be served at shops or even in other government service queues where you are providing personal information. Privacy is not a big issue, perhaps natural in a country where everyone seems to know each other. The best example of this occurred at the Samoan Immigration office where people actually lined up by standing propped at the counter right next to the person while they talked about their medical status and offending history before them while they were being served. Paul even pointed out one woman reading off the computer screen over the shoulder of the person being served. We have become adept at defensive manoeuvres where we stand next to each other with our hands on hips to block people from standing too close.

4. Dogs- they are everywhere. Barking is one of the most common night noises, and when one starts, it can sound as though a hundred more join in. I can’t quite figure out if they are pets or semi-feral, but they wander the streets and it is rare to go somewhere that does not have one or two on the premises, even at the school (though Izak assures me they are pets).

One of the first phrases we were taught was “harloo!!” as a warning to a dog to back off, though the dogs seem naturally wary of people. Many look skinny and poorly cared for, with tumours and old injuries. Paul has taken to running with rocks to throw at the dogs, and has been given a big stick to carry while riding his bike for similar purposes. He is calling it Solamona’s sword after the man that gave it to them (He has also written on it – “Dog!! Bite me and I will smite you”. He has carried the biblical language further by writing “Don’t steal my lunch, stealing is a sin” on his lunch at the hospital. It has been taken at least once).

His first trip on the bike resulted in a dog being kicked in the head after it lunged at him ready to bite his leg. In another setting I would find this kind of cruelty to animals unbearable but here it is more about survival. Post script: Paul has come to think the dogs are partly a security measure, though no-one here would openly admit to the need for one. He is also refining his dog whacking techniques with Solamona to ensure the stick doesn’t break.

5. TV celebrities- A samoan little person is one of the most visible individuals on the TV here. He is in ads for Orchy, Sol beer and others, often leading a spontaneous street dance number. The only other person getting more commercial air time is a particularly good looking member of Manu, the Samoan national rugby team that recently won the international sevens comp. I have yet to work out his name but I think he plays in the NZ league. A thousand Samoan teenagers have replicated his haircut which is something like David Beckham a few years ago, a kind of stylish mullet (if there is such a thing).

Coincidently rats tails teamed with patches of red or blue home dye are also big. Go figure.

PS the photo was taken by Paul- the view out of back window.

Some photos

This photo was taken on the coast road. While they have recently brought in rules that require the wearing of seat belts, there is nothing that requires kids to be restrained in the car, or preventing the use of a ute to ferry people around. The speed limit has been brought down to 40km an hour due to the road switch (a move from right to left hand driving position) so high speeds are a thing of the past. Note the thumbs up. I actually took a few version of his photo and the little girl repeated the pose until I let her know we got it.

These photos were taken in downtown Apia. The buses are a sight to see here, with all of them painted and many blaring samoan hip hop. Paul wants to do a blog called Pimp my ride in honour of it! The other photo is of the Fungalei markets which has all manner of fresh produce.





These photos were taken at Lanomalu, one of the areas that was devastated by the tsunami. We hired a day fale and within no time the boys had infiltrated a group of Samoan kids (probably by using the secret gang fingers sign). They spent hours pulling sea creatures out of some dead coral, playing rugby on the beach and just generally having a ball. It is one of the most beautiful spots in Samoa, though I will post some photos latter of what it looks like on the other side of the beach- there is still very real damage with the people here believing that aid dollars are being prioritised into roads rather than housing.

This photo is for my colleagues who recently were involved in the implementation of the QLD privacy legislation. It is the patient file room at the National Hospital. Not only open to the environment, but also to the public. I swanned right in there and took photos. In some ways it is a very different world here.

Samoan Gang Fingers

Those of you who know me won't be surprised to hear that I spent hours searching the web for info about Samoa before arriving here. One of the most interesting observations was the hand gesture I have decided to call “Samoan gang fingers”. This gesture is like the peace sign on it’s side, and can be seen in any photo or image of people – at schools, churches, in papers, in brochures. Age doesn't seem to matter with it's use. The young and the old....they all flick it out whenever a camera comes into view. For a church oriented culture it seems odd to have this gang like finger symbol everywhere. I have secretly been hoping it has some deep, secret cultural meaning that unites Samoans everywhere. The photo of the girls above is just one example.

Well, I have finally got to the bottom of it. A five year playing with our boys at the beach on the weekend jumped into every photo I took and popped out the gesture each time. Despite poor English, I sat him down to ask him what it is about and had something of an anti-climactic moment. No, it’s not some secret symbol about Samoan people taking over the world, one rugby match at a time. It just means “cool”! Well according to my five year old source it does anyway.

Father's day - part two

After church we went back to Muti-muti’s house, a series of fales on a little peninsula. Despite the most amazing outlook I have ever seen in a residential house, the buildings all faced to the road, with only the most utilitarian buildings at the back near the ocean.

Muti-Muti’s English is about as good as our Samona, so we sat and watched while an intriguing but mostly baffling scenerio played out soon after our arrival Three men arrived at the fale, all of whom we had noted earlier at church (Two wore moustaches and we marvelled later at how much they both looked like Tom Selleck!) . They sat and after pleasantries, one commenced a monologue which went for several minutes, the other gentlemen offering words of what sounded like approval at points. He then rose, and gave Muti-muti a fifty dollar note. Muti-muti then formally responded in another monologue that went on for several minutes. We caught the word Fomai’i (doctor) which seemed to indicate he was referring to Paul. Another man who may have been Muti-Muti’s son or son-inlaw then spoke after seating himself on the floor and laid out plates of food which were subsequently taken away by the men. After this exchange was completed, the men rose to leave telling us that Muti-muti had told them of the relationship he established with Paul while in the hospital and that they wished us well. In a fairly off hand manner, Muti-muti mentioned that they were visiting as he is the high chief of the village, and the men, other Samatau matais (or chiefs) had come to visit to pay respect due to his recent illness.

The cultural exposure did not end there. With Muti-muti and another gentleman sitting at large chairs on the perimeter of the fale, a table was moved into the centre of the room and four chairs placed at it. As guests we were invited to sit and eat, while Muti-muti’s daughters and wife served us, including standing at the table fanning us and the food. Plates of cold meats, pulasami (coconut cream baked in banana leaves), fish, taro and more were placed out for us. In the mean Muti-muti an his other guest were also served with their own individual tables of food. Many apologies were offered for the limited spread, of which we only managed to eat perhaps one tenth. This was meant to be breakfast, with the main meal to be had later in the day. When we had eaten what little we could, we were offered lime ice cream for afters, and received an invite back before we leave in December. There seemed to be a joke in there somewhere about how well we could dance, with Muti-muti's daughter rolling her eyes and saying something about a farewell ceremony. Can't wait!

It was the most interesting experience I have had so far, with being honoured as a guest in such a way both flattering and uncomfortable, and much of it spent with us looking for cues about how to behave and what to do next. I hope we get more experiences like this in the next four months.

Fathers Day - Part 1

Photo 1: Following the distinctively left leaning (and I don't mean politically) family to church on Father's Day.

Photo 2: The Catholic Church at Samatau with the most amazing roof.

Photo 3 and 4: Ula (leis).

Up until recently we have felt more like tourists than people living in samoan, seeing only those attractions which show off the beauty of this country, and little of the way that real samoan people live. After being invited this weekend to visit a patient that Paul had met at the hospital and to accompany him and his family to Church for Fathers day, we jumped at the opportunity to get beyond the pretty mountains and scenery. Family is so central to the Samoan culture that we knew it would be special.

Muti-muti lives in the village of Samatau, a picturesque spot on the water about an hours drive out of Apia. Most samoans attend church on Sunday, and in this case Muti-muti is a member of the local Catholic church. We followed the family in their ute to the church, which was stacked with eleven adults and children (in a single cab vehicle!) The church itself was amazing with the ceiling made up completely of Samoan woodwork, an intricate combination of inlaid parquetry and carved shapes. The choir alone made the day worthwhile.

The mass was difficult to follow being almost entirely in Samoan, though at points the priest fell into English, most notably for the sign of peace, something I thought may have been in deference to us, the only non Samoan people present.

The homily was also largely Samoan, delivered in an energetic and dynamic style with lots of emphatic hand gestures. Bizarrely, words here and there were spoken in English, with “three days” repeated several times. At one point, the priest yelled out “go ahead and kill me!”. Ok.

The offeratory procession included six leis made of yellow flowers and necklaces called Ula, which are made of clingwrap and lollies, with ribbon tying them into beads. The children in the church picked up the leis and ulas moving abut the church to place them around the father’s necks. At this point we started to figure out that Muti-muti was someone important in this community, as he scored both the most necklaces, and received one of the six flower necklaces included in the procession. The others went to a lay deacon and the four of us (as his guests). the photos above are Toby modelling the ula we all received, along with a much more elaborate version we spotted in town. Part two to follow.......