Last week, while waiting for the ferry, a 52 year old widower introduced himself and we started chatting. In 15 minutes I knew his life story, had a fairly clear idea of his financial assets and had received an invitation to spend time together so I could get to know his family before we got married.
I thought a guy I dated briefly in the U.S. was a fast mover when he proposed after four dates. He was a slow poke by Samoan standards.
Recently I was walking along, looking fetchingly sweaty in the afternoon heat, when I heard the sound that every woman who has been to Samoa knows. It’s a kind of loud (and obnoxious) kissing noise that guys make to get your attention. I looked over and there were two young soles (prounced so-lays and means guy/dude) sitting nearby. One was smiling and waving. I looked around to see which attractive young teine he was flirting with. There was no one else around. Really, kid? I bet I’m twenty years older than your mother. Still, flattering to have a guy with a six pack giving me the eye. Speaking of eyes, I bet he could use glasses.
Another day recently I met a very charming, handsome man. I’m guessing he was about my age. Very distinguished looking and spoke excellent English. We had a lovely conversation that included topics such as travel, religion, politics, Samoan food and our respective marital status. He’s married and a minister. I’m still single. He suggested we get together privately, without telling anyone. Then introduced me to his wife, who had been in another room. I declined, by the way.
I assume I’m becoming more accepted and trusted based on the amount of gossip I’ve been told recently. One tidbit was about a young single guy I know. According to the gossip, he’s fathered six children in two years, all by different women. Another piece of gossip was one woman telling me that another woman we both know is sleeping with her husband, which is why they are separated.
There’s a lot of joking about sex and hooking up outside marriage. Friday while folks were sitting around the faleaoga waiting for donations, one woman asked me who my boyfriend was. I know the drill now so I asked her husband’s name. “Tui.” “Yup” I replied. “Tui’s my boyfriend.” Big laughs all around, including the lady who asked the question. She said “Just Tui?” “Nooooo. I’m also sleeping with her husband and her husband and her husband.” I replied while pointing at women of all ages. Everyone laughed and agreed that I’m a very funny palagi. It wouldn’t have been so funny if there was any indication that I was stepping out with anyone, but I’m doing my best to dress and act conservatively so that there’s no question that I’m a “good girl.”
Speaking of dress, I have a bone to pick with the missionaries. They came to Samoa bringing the word of God and a new dress code. Out with wearing a few leaves and flowers and in with the puletasi. The puletasi here is what the suit was to women in the 80’s in the States. I wear one to school every day. I wear them to church and for other special occasions. I own six. Four have a wrap-around skirt, two have zippered skirts. They are all floor length. The top is a fitted (aka really tight) tunic top that comes to mid-thigh. Four of mine are made of polyester, which is the hottest fabric known to man.
The missionaries, who are now presumably enjoying eternity wearing just wings and comfy white robes, brought the puletasis to Samoa. I’m guessing they never tried to play Duck, Duck, Goose in one. They’re hot and not very comfortable. Plus, my two skirts are too big, so they tend to droop and when I walk upstairs at school, which is about 20 times a day, I step on them and trip. I’m not sure I could have embraced teaching topless, but it would have been cooler.
Another thing about clothes. Men wear lava lavas which is just a piece of fabric wrapped around the waist and tied or tucked in. When getting on/off busses, when it’s windy and at other random times, men place a hand or two around their package. I don’t know if it’s a defense mechanism or if they’re concerned about a wardrobe malfunction, but there’s a lot of cupping going on.
Back to talking about sex. Three high school students joined me at the beach fale one day. One of the girls was raised in New Zealand and speaks fluently in both English and Samoan. The subject they’re most interested in, of course, is boys. We talked for awhile about whose boyfriend was cuter then they said they wanted to ask me about sex. I asked if they received sex education at school. No, not even the standard stuff we get in sixth grade about puberty. Sex ed at home? No. Church? Nope.
I asked a few questions to get an idea of their current level of understanding. Two had seen a movie (yes, it was from the USA) that showed a naked man plus they’re seen their little brothers so they know boys have a “thing”. I explained the basics of biology and how intercourse works. I also explained that it works best when the couple is in love and married. Since they know I’ve never been married, they wanted to know how I knew about sex. I told them I read it in a book.
Anyway, the conversation continued and they wanted to know about getting pregnant. They were under the impression that touching (anywhere) and/or kissing caused pregnancy. I asked if they knew what condoms were and they had seen them. They didn’t know what to do with them. They said they could get them at the hospital. I can’t imagine a young Samoan girl strolling into the hospital and asking for a supply of condoms.
After our talk, they all agreed they are way too young (they’re 15) to even think about sex and babies. I hope they keep thinking that way for awhile.
Sex Ed / personal responsibility - - - Another challenge for future PCVs.
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