The Prime Minister of Samoa Tuila’epa (He says “Just call me Tui”) opened our first business in Samoa on Friday and amongst other things thanked me for bringing vision to his country. This post is a sample of an extraordinary three day period – a snapshot of the last three days in the life of an IT Entrepreneur in Samoa.
It’s Thursday, the day before the opening.
I must deliver the list of invitees to the girl entrusted with the final ring-around – Samoans get grossly offended if you don’t invite them to an event, even though they rarely RSVP and many times don’t show up, or show up late. With a smidgeon under 100 invitees we still have no idea how many people are coming and my guess is anything from 20 to 60 people. That makes it hard for renting chairs and catering.
Shalom has no credit and needs a phone. Except for mine, which I won’t let out of my sight, we have no phone either (Force has gone swimming with it in his pocket and ruined his). I arrange for a $10 pre-pay card and a SIM card so she can phone people and find out how many are coming (or not). I listen to her concerns regarding Force being the MC. “Force is an untitled man and it will be an insult to the Prime Minister if he is the MC and speaks” she says. In frustration at my supposed inability to understand what she is saying, she clarifies, “He doesn’t even know how to speak Samoan properly. It’s almost like he wasn’t born or raised in Samoa”. Is this the typical Samoan pull-down of others to puff themselves up or are her complaints for real? What to do with a man who acts more like my brother, who I have primed to speak to the PM for me when I need it and is ready for the most important day of his life thus far?
But Lepupa’s ultimatum, “If Force speaks, we won’t be there!” supported by his wife’s nodding in agreement is clearly an attempt at blackmail and strong-arming based on their fear of their family/village reputation if we do not do the Fa’a Samoa things. In this regard read: High Priest saying the Prayers (who of course must be paid) and thousands of dollars in expensive gifts, long speeches and important people doing important things – cultural ‘niceties’ that we decided eons ago to never get involved with. This is a Palagi business. We are sensitive to Samoan culture and want to work with it and share it with the world but we are not Samoans and can never do the Samoan thing, I’m sorry.
Upon receiving that ultimatum I finally work out the real people I’m dealing with and graciously exit their home. “OK No problem” and I depart, unlikely to return any time soon. Departing from a negative, confrontational situation I ponder how these people were singing from a different song-sheet and didn’t understand, or respect or have faith in our vision. The Good Book teaches that “fear of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom.” Logically then, fear of Fa’a Samoa or fear of what other people may think about us, must be foolishness.
But it is a problem. It is a BIG problem the day before the opening. This is a double downer because not only was Shalom scheduled to speak at the opening, we had scheduled her to start work at The Airport Lounge on the following Monday. She loses her job and now I’ve got to run the new business myself until we can find and train another person. Bugger!
As a courtesy, I consult with Eniko and ask him how much he wants to speak at the opening, just in case Lepupa’s concerns were valid and I had missed an important cultural point. Eniko says “You just do your own thing!” and says that he will become very busy up at the plantation for the next couple of days. Sh**! Now we’ve also lost the landlord too (an LDS Bishop no less) who was going to do the prayers. Seems like we now know two LDS (Mormon) people who have different value systems from us. Darn, and I though that they were the better people over here – no smoking, no drinking and suchlike. Seems like greed and pride and all other sins (except smoking and drinking of course) penetrate even the only “real” church, as Lepupa so eloquently put it to me once!
OK. So Debbie will do the opening prayers and Force and I are it. I think back to the in-fighting and cultural ***** that my Maori ex-in laws participated in around important events and I connect the two cultures mentally. My thoughts about the two races weren’t very positive or gracious at the time and should remain private!
Our team muscles on with buying food and drinks starting with two dozen loaves of bread, ice for the drinks and a million other things. Ina from next-door reports to me that her husband has told her to “help the Palagi” as much as she can without asking for money. He thinks that Palagi coming to Samoa is good for Samoa and he wants her to help us. What a different spirit from the ones that ask for heaps of money and then give us an ultimatum. True friends I think!
A new crisis erupts with physical violence on one of the boys, Tasi. Again he’s an LDS chappie who I thought was actually pretty straight-up. He comes in favouring a painful hand. His right hand looks like it may be broken. “OK!” I think “He’s decked someone!” This is what they do over here to sort things out of course. A sore right hand is usually the result of winning a confrontation. Missing teeth are the sign of losing a confrontation.
Apparently he said something in private to Force about the trouble around this village or the property we rent and someone from the village had heard it (or thought that she had heard it) and reported it to the landlord’s wife. The boys came to me saying “Oops, there might be a bit of trouble here”. The story goes that the girl misunderstood the context of what was said but methinks there may have been a bit more than a simple misunderstanding and there was substance to the gossip.
Tasi had apparently gone across to say sorry to Sa and she gave him a hiding – with a stick – and told him in no uncertain terms to get off her land and never come back. He’s nursing a bruised back and wrist (from deflecting the blows) and begging me to take him off the land and back into town. He swears black and blue that he only defended himself and didn’t deck her (which stacks up with other stories), so he’s off the hook and can still work with us.
I find out that my wife is mortified and praying fervently in The Airport Lounge. OMG I think, what sort of landlords do we have? How could I possibly get her into this sort of situation? “F***ing Samoa!” I think it but wouldn’t dare say it aloud.
When Eniko comes back from the plantation Force goes to him and eats humble pie – “I’m sorry we are just young boys and you are our ‘parents’ please forgive us” is the guts of a conversation that we can all hear from a mile away. Eniko obviously lets it rip and Force kindly preaches my own words back to me “Sometimes you have to lose the battle to win the war” he says. Very cute, but wise. My “bro” is learning a lot!
Friday dawns and all goes according to plan.
The PM arrives 15 minutes early and Force meets and greets him. He knows Force from two visits to his Prime Ministerial office where I took him with me and he chats to Force and everyone else. Clearly relaxed and appreciating our invite to open The Airport Lounge, the PM chats to all and sundry about the importance of starting on time, giving anecdotes about his Ministers “missing the boat” literally after he instructed that Samoan events will run on time under his watch. He explains that he had a pretty busy day but just sneaked in our meeting. He hastens to add that he would have had another Minister open for him though if he couldn’t have made it.
Our programme commences with Force and Debbie taking turns at a short welcome and a prayer. There – a giant is slain! An untitled man spoke to the PM in a formal event and the sky didn’t fall in! And a woman, of another country, who has no fancy title within the church, has officiated at an official opening event in Samoa. I can hear another giant crashing down even as she finishes her simple heart-felt prayer of thanks and blessing!
My speech follows and the team all share the various ideas and brands and ventures that we are working on here. The PM learns for the first time what the SWAP Foundation he agreed to be Patron of is all about.
And it just gets better. . .
When asked to cut the ribbon (15 minutes before schedule) he stops to speak. “You know, they’ve given me a speech but I’m not going to read it”, he says. He then goes on to address those gathered there about how much he has enjoyed the informality of the opening. He speaks from his heart and shares about how when I was talking about getting mesmerized by Samoa he thought about Robert Louis Stevenson too ‘getting the Samoa disease’ and staying.
He thanks me for bringing vision to the country and offers his support in any matter that we desire.
Suitably impressed with our little Lounge, a Ninth Heaven gift shared with the PM [pic], photographs taken, we retire with him to nibbles and more chats and discussions. He talks to Debbie across the table – at length. “How neat that the PM wants to talk to me!” Debbie says to me later.
I hesitate to speak openly and honestly in case of causing offence but we talk briefly. “Where’s Misa?” I ask thinking that there must be something important on. “I don’t know!” Tui replies. Oops. Yes we did invite him and Nora confirmed his attendance yesterday and yes we did invite Sonya and Nynette too. This is getting serious, the PM now knows that all the important representatives of the tourism industry, his Minister of Tourism, The Samoa Tourism Authority and Samoa Hotel Association have all been invited and haven’t showed. Methinks – not good. I hope they don’t all take it out on me later if the PM pings them for not showing or sending someone! I don’t tell him that they didn’t attend the opening of SWAP either nor did they send apologies – even more “not good!”
“Are you the guy on the TV?” Tui asks of Force, “Yes I am sir!” Force replies. “Yes I thought you were!” the PM says. “I told my driver that I was sure you were the guy. I always watch that advert and want to see the rest of your [rap dance or something like that!]” Apparently Force’s dance was cut short in the advert. “I wonder if one day we can find the original tape and let him see the rest?” I think to myself.
“Just call me Tui” rings in my ears as the PM of a country I knew nothing about only 12 months ago has accepted a Patronage of the SWAP Foundation; has opened our first business in Paradise; congratulated and thanked us; and then offered his support for anything we need in his country.
I pinch myself and realize that in just 10 months the wheel has turned a full circle from the day that the Lord spoke to me and said “Share the vision” and the same day that I just walked into the Prime Minister’s office and started to share the vision with him. Here was the PM now thanking me for having vision for his country less than a year later. Sweet!
I think back over the pain of emigrating and getting pushed around by authorities and trying to work with people who just don’t care and who treat you like an animal until they have to do the right thing because they are told to, and compare all that with the PM who has just ‘done it’. Professional, efficient and at the end of the day, just helpful. I muse “I guess that’s why he’s the PM!”
And it just gets better. . .
I round up the team for a debriefing. Force looks at me and says, “You know, this is the best day of my life!” and I know that it is.
“You have shown me and taught me soooo much!” he says. “You know all of that Fa’a Samoa stuff, and how we were all so scared and you just said ‘Have faith, work hard and do the right thing’? You told us to stand tall and not be frightened and to trust you. Well we did that and you were right – it was all fear of nothing! And the ones that didn’t have faith and didn’t trust you and didn’t show up missed the blessing didn’t they?” Yes they did Force. They truly missed out!
Debbie says to Force, “Remember that the opportunity of a lifetime only exists for the lifetime of that opportunity!” He’ll need a few weeks to think through what that English means but he knows the principle now, from first-hand experience.
And Debbie speaks of the Word she picked out from the Bible for the young guy:
Jeremiah 1:6-8 (New American Standard Bible)
Then I said, “Alas, Lord GOD! Behold, I do not know how to speak, because I am a youth.” But the LORD said to me, do not say, ‘I am a youth,’ because everywhere I send you, you shall go, and all that I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you,” declares the LORD.
Appropriate? No, more than appropriate!
And it just gets better. . .
Upon hearing of the way that the PM came and enjoyed himself and threw his support behind our work and interacted with us, someone close to us offered suggestions he had previously held back on how to obtain land – good land – prime land – land that many would die for. And land that doesn’t have landlords that let you down or beat up on your staff over some mere words, that were probably true anyway.
Saturday, the day after.
My team takes my mother, wife and daughter on what we call the Tsunami tour – a full day experience of beaches, resorts and rural Village Stay families (who are just itching to host Palagi guests) along the South Coast, devastated by the Tsunami.
We picnic at Vavau and Tasi shinnies up a coconut tree and husks some coconuts for the girls. I growl for the what seems like the thirtieth time that he MUST demonstrate the husking and climbing in front of the guests and explain what he is doing when he does. Don’t just present the drink to the guests – INVOLVE them in the experience I insist. So he has to do it all again for them on the beach. Our guests love it!
Force fends off the local boys seeking money for our car visiting the beach. We visit Se’a I the High Chief of that village and promise to return with the paperwork in a couple of weeks for the Village Stay programme that kicks off in a few weeks.
We call in to Richard from Lepa, the Prime Minister’s own village that got hit by the Tsunami. Richard and his family want to host Village Stays in his newly built house up in the plantation. I’m sure that one day he will be an honoured man when wealth, prestige and honour will come to him, his family and his village when the PM talks about the Village Stay programme that started in his own village of Lepa.
We call in to Victoria from Malaela, who lost grandchildren and other family members in the Tsunami and who has had to totally rebuild her life. She is washing clothes at the pool so we don’t stay long. It’s hard to visualize the trauma that she has experienced and the impact that just $50.00 WST per person per night will have on her meager subsistence lifestyle. It will seem like Christmas time to her when her first guests arrive. I deliberately suppress my own emotion at being able to help her so that I can move my guests on to their next destination.
We visit Vailupe also from Malaela who also lost everything and has rebuilt inland. This is the aging man who held my hand tight and looked at me with tears in his eyes saying “Thank You Thank You Thank You!” just at the mere thought that there was a Palagi who cared, that perhaps, one day, there may be hope for him and his whole village that has relocated inland away from the main road and the loss of all tourism income. There is a new road in the village, tangible evidence of the post-Tsunami rebuilding programme. It is like a highway compared to what it was before, but there is not a Palagi in sight, a vast difference from the constant throng of tourists driving through his village before the Tsunami. If there is any one memory of Samoa that sums up the importance of our work it is the tears of gratitude in Vailupe’s eyes on that day, not so long ago when he tried to tell me how much a Village Stay would mean to him and his family. It’s likely that the entire pain of his whole Village from the Tsunami loss will well over when the first guest arrives to stay. There won’t be a dry eye in the place when his village stay is opened.
We call in to Amaile and swim in the most amazing village pool in the whole of Samoa. A spring of cool fresh water gushing at least 1 cumec from inside a cave runs through the pool and out to the sea lagoon. One can float, be carried along a gentle current right out to the lagoon. From cold fresh water to warm salt water. I want to market the Village Stay there as “Paradise Point”, and my wife who has struggled with having to move to the heat of Samoa feels the gentle cooling sea breeze; looks at the view, the location and then my eyes and says, I could live here with you! It’s hard to hold back the tears. We check out the Fale Samoa [pic]
We stop at Tasi’s house and plantation, and wander in to check it out. “See those mountains?” he says to us pointing into the middle distance. “My lands go all the way back to there!” Excuse me? Say that again . . . “Yes, it is V-E-R-Y big lands.” Acres in fact, many, many acres. “I miss my lands!” he says in Pidgeon English, having spent the last few years in the big city. “I’m a farmer!” he says matter of factly. He’s a farmer. He’s a farmer. He’s a farmer. That is who he is and he knows it! My brain works at 100 million miles an hour. I know that there are tens thousands of people who would love to come to this place and help a young man build his dreams. I know that there are women a plenty who would love to spend their lives with this young guy who is a good caring guy, happy, always laughing and works hard. I gently suggest that a Village Stay and WWOOFers would see his farm developed and his dreams come true. Another business has developed in front of my eyes and another man’s life will be changed for the good if I can find time to help him, which I resolve to find.
We add on a visit to our friends in Uafato this time, turning a normally 6 hour day into a 15 hour day of driving and business. “Malo!” “Malo Soifua!” “Malo!” toot, toot, toot-toot, as we pass friends coming into the village. It is “Security Time” with another two minutes to go before anyone is allowed out onto the streets from their prayers. We are stopped by Onasai and we talk for a minute. The Conch Shell is blown a little earlier than usual so that we are not held up unduly. That’s Samoa. Laws are there to be stretched. We arrive at our guest’s place and slip him three bottles of Vailima. There’s an alcohol prohibition in this Village but again, the laws there appear to be “worked around”. Just so long as nobody makes a noise and you’ll be OK! That’s Samoa.
We are treated to a smorgasbord of local delicacies, fish speared the night before by torchlight, Taro baked and boiled, Polusami, fried chicken, roast pig, coconut drinks and all on the top of a lovely beachside setting in the starlight.
Debbie’s flight back to New Zealand leaves at 1.30am and we part company after midnight. It’s 1.00am and a chilly 25 degrees outside when I crash onto a rubber mattress on a concrete floor in the outside Fale. Moonlight shines through the banana fronds. Coconut trees are silhouetted on the starlit sky. Dogs are barking in the distance. The neighbours cat is spotted by the landlord’s dogs and all hell breaks loose until the said cat is back in neighbour’s property. Roosters crow – getting ready for the morning.
The jets from the Poly Blue plane roar on its takeoff and then dissolve into the distance. In my half conscious state I slip a millisecond prayer of protection for my wife in transit. Tomorrow is Sunday I muse. No doubt I’ll be blogging and preaching online. That’s what I do on Sundays. There will be no reason to knock Samoa or the Church tomorrow. Samoa has really turned it on over the last week for me. Next week will be more fun in the sun no doubt.
Three days of hard work and then a Sunday with lots of sleep!
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