What is That Smell?

 

Sundays in Samoa means to'ona'i - or the weekly family feast.  This is a shot of the smoke coming from the outdoor kitchen at the neighbor's fale as they prepare the umu (oven) for the feast.

 I remember coming home to Orlando on a late night flight with my brother once.  As we stepped from the plane into the jetway, he stopped, drew in a deep breath and said “Ah, I love the smell of Florida – the smell of things rotting.”    We laughed as we walked on, but it’s true. 

The smell of Samoa is the scent of things burning.  The majority of people in my village, including the family I live with, cook over an open fire.  The smoky smell of wood burning and food cooking is an every night constant.  It’s frequently mixed with the pungent smell of garbage burning.  There’s garbage pickup in the village, but many people opt to burn all trash, including plastics, rather than pay for pickup.

Another inescapable aroma is from the myriad of plants and flowers.  There are beautiful flowers, like the orchids that grow wild as well as in gardens, that don’t have an odor.  Then there’s the large plant that many people use as hedges.  It’s also commonly used in ulas (leis) and has a strong, sweet, almost overpowering, odor. 

I love getting ulas and appreciate the effort and thought that goes into them, but really have a problem wearing the ones made from the yellow-green plant.  The smell makes me sneeze and something in the plant makes any bare skin it touches get red and itchy.  The smell, though, from afar is lovely.

Family vacations when I was young were usually road trips to visit relatives who lived five hours away.  After a couple of days of visiting we’d hit the road again and head to Baja, Mexico.  Back before Ensenada became a cruise port, it was a tiny fishing village and we spent a week there every year.  I still associate the smell of the sea with those family vacations.  Not surprising that I love the smell of the sea here at low tide. Salty and a bit fishy, I can close my eyes and let the smell take me away.  Calgon, it’s the smell you were trying to find.

The market is always filled with competing smells.  The tantalizing aroma of freshly fried donuts and chicken that is occasionally overtaken when a breeze blows from the nearby fish market.  The ava has a subtle but distinctive scent that provides a sort of earthiness to the blend of market smells.  One section of the market is reserved for the sale of taro and other large root vegetables.  Strolling through, contemplating what the heck you do with a three foot piece of starchy vegetable, I enjoy a pleasant whiff of the rich earth still clinging to the roots.  The other market smell that permeates is the ever present hair gel.  A sweet, pleasant smell that is almost overpowering when a group of young men with carefully styled and gelled hair pass.

Night time in Samoa will always mean the aroma of burning mosquito coils mixed with the smell of burning garbage.  A surprisingly good smell.