In a Fishbowl

“‘O fea ‘e te alu i ai?” (Where are you going?) is a question I get asked everyday, multiple times a day by people that are complete strangers. “‘Ou te alu i le a’oga” (I’m going to school) or “loku” (church) or “maketi” (market) or “fale’oloa” (store) or “savali” (walk) or “e ta’ele” (to swim) are my typical responses. Other times I hear: “Malo, Lina*” (Hi, Lina) or “Fa, Lina” (Bye, Lina) said by people I swear I’ve never seen before, yet they know my name. My village has about 800 people, and they all know my name. I’m by no means complaining, and I know it’s part of the Samoan culture, but it takes its toll when I can’t walk without someone wanting to know where I’m going. I come from a culture where strangers don’t care where I’m going, so getting asked numerous times each day is a huge adjustment. And I’m not saying that Samoans are bad people because they want to know where I’m going. Samoans are some of the friendliest people I’ve ever met, and they welcome Peace Corps Volunteers with open arms; it’s just something I have to get used to.

If you haven’t realized from this post, or my previous posts, the concept of privacy is non-existent in Samoa. I have my own house, but it has 5 sets of windows. My house is tiny, so the windows pretty much take up the walls. If someone is standing outside of my house, they can hear what’s going on inside: my phone conversations, the music I’m listening to, the shows I’m watching on my laptop; everything can be heard. I was sick last month, and my host family and I were able to have a conversation while I was lying in bed, and they were standing outside of my house. My windows were closed, too. So while I have my own house and space, I still feel like I’m living in a fishbowl.

This is when Apia comes in. Apia is the capital of Samoa. It’s by no means a large city; I wouldn’t even call it a city; it’s a town. But after being in the village for a month, it feels like a whole other world. It's nice to be able to walk the streets without people knowing my name, or without them caring to know where I’m going; it's nice to feel like an ordinary person. I went to Apia on Saturday, to meet up with some PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) and RPCVs (Return Peace Corps Volunteers). We went to see Audiopharmacy play. They’re an American Reggae band, currently touring the South Pacific. If you’ve never heard of them, look them up. They put on a great show! So back to the night: It was nice to speak English, wear clothes I brought from the States (they’re not proper village-attire), eat nachos, have a few drinks, and dance the night away… until midnight that is because that’s the time everything shuts down in Samoa. 

Audiopharmacy 

The guy to my right is a member of Audiopharmacy

I also mentioned drinks. Drinking it not appropriate in the village, especially for females. My host family offers me alcohol every so often, but I politely refuse saying, “leai, fa’afetai” (no thank you). I don’t want to drink in the village because for one: everyone in my village would find out about it, and two: it’s nice to limit drinks to special occasions only.

If you have the impression that I hate village life, then you’re wrong. I actually enjoy being in the village. It’s nice to live in a small community that isn’t always rushed. Life slows down here, compared to life in the States. Samoa is the place to enjoy the sight and sound of the sea, gaze at the stars, or sit down and read, without the feeling/guilt like you should be doing something else, something productive with your free time. But every so often, I need a break from being the center of attention and living in a fishbowl; sometimes I need to feel like the average Joe, and that’s when I escape from village life, even if it’s just for a few hours.

*My Samoan name is Lina. I’m not sure if it’s mentioned in my previous blog posts.