I'm a Wild Child

I had a lovely evening last Sunday.  Well, mostly.  I’d been invited to join one of Group 82 and her parents for dinner, along with another member of Group 82.  They arrived a year before we did and will be leaving in Nov. and Dec. of this year.  I invited them to dine at my house, since I love to cook, but they chose to meet at the resort in my village.   Fine with me, although there went my food budget for the week.

As I was walking to the resort, I was exulting over how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place.  It’s about a ½ mile walk to the resort, along the ocean and I was enjoying it.  Saying hello to people as we passed.  A nice, relaxed Sunday evening.  Right up until I said hello to a woman and her teen age daughter.  They said hello, then the woman clearly said “Talofai”.  And clicked her tongue as they walked past.  It was the equivalent of her pointing at my scarlet letter and voicing her disapproval.

I believe her response to me was because on Saturday night I was walking, alone, in the dark, to the church.  I said something to my boss about it today and she made a joke and said “You ka’apo tele.”  I asked a few people what that meant and the gist is that I’m kinda loose and wander around where I shouldn’t be at night.  She clearly meant it as a joke since I never go anywhere at night.  I don't believe the lady on the street was making a joke.

Let’s put this in perspective.  It was 7:30 p.m. on a Saturday night.  I was going to church.   I was wearing a puletasi, which involves a full-length skirt and tunic top long enough to wear as a dress by itself.  I was on the main road, which has occasional street lights.  There were several other people on the road, many headed toward the same event.

I’m used to flying cross-country in the States from a consulting gig on a Friday night, hopping in the car and driving an hour to my hometown, then doing my grocery shopping at 2 a.m. before heading home to unpack and crash.  All alone. 

It’s a bit different here in Samoa.