Going back to 2008

It was a long flight. My right knee ached despite anti-inflammatory pills. A Hollywood movie ran through its scenes while my son slept peacefully. When the airhostess gave out meals, I accepted more out of curiosity than hunger, and in a bid to while away the time. The five-hour delay while transiting Auckland had heightened my eagerness to see Samoa again.

This was my second visit in six years – the first being Christmas 2007. Back then, as I stepped off the plane one thought went through my mind. I am home. For me, home can never again be New Zealand. Home is Samoa. It is a spiritual as well as physical home that constantly challenges me and forces me to learn, adapt and grow. At Christmas I returned to put to rest some lingering demons and found all could be subdued with a sincere smile and seasonal wish. This time I am here at the request of my parents who are resettling in Samoa after more than 40 years abroad.

For these visits I have been based at my father’s village of Mulifanua. I’m the girl learning to valu the popo and do the laundry by hand. I love it. My body feels better for it too. It’s a bit like being at fat camp, where hard labour and a diet of fresh fish and boiled green bananas is my new staple.

Our new house is yet to be finished so the cooking and clean-up is done outside. Not that I am complaining, especially when I see our neighbours trudging downhill with buckets balanced on large sticks across their shoulders. Thankfully, we have a water tank. When dad proposed buying one, we (who were sitting in our New Zealand lounges at the time) thought he was being extravagant but it’s clear he was simply being practical. A bonus for me is the new house has no tv. There is a distinct absence of Super 14 games, world news and drama penetrating our home via satellite. In many ways we are isolated except for the occasional ventures into town. We do have a radio but I much prefer the birds or the silence.

When I am in town, I confess to being a newspaper junkie. I will sit and read as many as I can. Old habits still make me. When I last arrived I was shocked to learn some new and old political happenings such as all HRPP MPs being salaried associate ministers. I’d like to see the time sheets – if there are any – for all those associate ministers and to see what duties they carry out in their appointments. Also, how much their salaries are, including their cars, overseas travel budgets, and expense budgets.

The other disturbing news was the right-hand-drive switch, although I was not too shocked at this. When a ruler or party has been power too long, they plain run out of ideas and purpose, and then personal agendas start to shape policy. It’s already evident in New Zealand with the Labour Party, who now has more senior journalists working for them than the New Zealand Herald, Radio New Zealand and the Dominion Post. These journalists-turn-spin doctor basically sugar-coat the workings of government so the public can digest and accept them. I think the correct term for it all is propaganda.

It appears in Samoa, the government does not need to sugar-coat its message because its majority in Parliament is so overwhelming. So instead it seems Samoa is at the whim of a dictator disguised as a democratic leader. I can hear the criticism coming forward already. “Felolini, how do you know? You have been away for too long.” But I respond, sometimes, it is just commonsense. Question, question, question until you are satisfied what is being done on your behalf is right, is moral and is for the good of the people. Step back. Take a look and trust yourself. By the looks of it, with all the protest against this move there is plenty of commonsense in Samoa. Unfortunately most of it resides outside Parliament.

In the meantime, I have about a week left in this great country of ours. I am set to return later this year for more family business. By that time, the house will be finished - the cooking and washing up will be done in a lovely new kitchen. The world will be projecting its soap operas and news events in a furnished and comfortable lounge. My temporary oasis will have changed, and I will adapt.