tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14163965021156218572024-03-05T03:19:05.042-08:00Fobilicious- tala mai se teine Samoa i SydneyThe musings and meanderings of a Samoan stranded in SydneyTeine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.comBlogger45125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-52546933057950070012014-05-17T00:29:00.000-07:002014-05-17T00:36:18.633-07:00Privilege<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When I was doing my bachelors degree</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Nothing annoyed me more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Than the temerity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Of those mature age students<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">You know the earnest kind<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">That asked questions<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Or wanted to discuss <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">the feminist perspective<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">that seemed interested in the actual course<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">like they may have done the actual readings<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and wanted to actually discuss <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">the actual ideas<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">acting like they came here to learn<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">when the rest of us<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">just wanted <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">to go<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">to Shadows<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and get <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">CRUUUUUUUNNNNNNK<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">wake up in
someone else’s bed drunk<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">but it’s ok<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">because I can’t actually remember <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">how I got there anyway<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">and there are songs that tell me that I can<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">blame it on the a –a –a –a alcohol<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I was doing law<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and you KNOW there is nothing as arrogant<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">as a fucking
law-student-straight-out-of-high-school<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">(the decile ten ones where everyone’s daddy
is a doctor <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">or a judge)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">who think they own the world<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">even when <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">they’re barely <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">scraping through<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">those golden children<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">who tell themselves their parents <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">should be grateful<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">because they are fulfilling <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">their dreams<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">who sit in class<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">playing candy crush <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">or waiting to see how many people like <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">their statuses<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">on facebook<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">who can’t wait <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US"> to cross-examine<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">the shit <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">out of someone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 324.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">in real life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But in real life<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I work in a male dominated industry<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And get paaaaaiiiiiid (hi 5 to me)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">much more than
my sisters ever will<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 72.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">despite their Masters degrees<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">in early childhood education<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and I barely even have time <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">to reflect on that <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">or on life’s other little ironies<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">as I pass off my children off <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">to them <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">at 8am<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and kiss their foreheads<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and say confidently<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">“Mummy’s going out <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 216.0pt; text-indent: 36.0pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">to change the world”.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">In real life<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">There are hardworking <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">intelligent<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">people<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Who will never get the opportunity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To go to university <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No matter how much we talk about equality<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Who won’t know <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">that they are smart enough<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Who haven’t been told <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">how clever they are<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Because their mum’s busy mopping the
supermarket floor<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and their dad is going on another night
tour<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">those kids don’t need <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">to learn humility<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">they see it <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">in the eyes of their parents <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">every <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">single<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">time <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">they get off the phone <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">with WINZ</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">so they can’t even imagine <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">taking on a loan<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">they just want to go out <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and save<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">their family<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">from drowning in debt<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">and yet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">When I was doing my bachelors degree<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Nothing annoyed me more<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Than the temerity<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Of those mature age students<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Acting like <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">they came here <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">to learn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-81193056243311774712014-05-08T18:33:00.002-07:002014-05-08T18:33:42.718-07:00I have a daughter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in pink<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And tell her to try very hard not to think<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Its dangerous you know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">To believe fairytale prose<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Like equal work for equal wage<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">It really could happen some day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in pink<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in green<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And tell her to grow up not to look like me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Grow up to be tall, long, lean<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Hide your face behind makeup before you are
seen<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Because beauty is currency and you can
trade<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No one is interested in your soul anyway<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in green<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in blue<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And tell her she will always have a right
to choose<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Unless she is forced<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">then we’ll ask with remorse<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">But what did you wear, what did you drink <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and why were you there<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in blue<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in red<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And tell her if she guards her virginity
one day she’ll be wed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And then she can stand proudly as the Minister
intones<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">About how woman was made from Adam’s bone<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And how her husband, like Jesus, shall be the
head<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And she, the church, his body that bled<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in red<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in white<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And tell her how to avoid getting into
fights<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Because boys will be boys and they can’t
control<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">And as women we must learn this role<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Be meek and mild, know your place<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">To ensure his fist doesn’t connect with your
face<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her in white<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I have a daughter <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I dress her <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">in black.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-13445938140111188752014-04-12T06:25:00.000-07:002014-04-12T20:58:36.331-07:00Kept safe in five syllables<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwh1hDeKb2Gjz-x-y9ADH5ihXC5mfLQxId8iqXCnf8EX6sQ1UFP1E-nx0LuExVtNukwsliXiPNNoAlgRhE6w36jQCRoMaWigN0NAYvdqm_dSlE8hx45z4LJRWNolwjj-RSF2dCbDbkJXfx/s1600/981618_10203667517396391_4249043757589491764_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwh1hDeKb2Gjz-x-y9ADH5ihXC5mfLQxId8iqXCnf8EX6sQ1UFP1E-nx0LuExVtNukwsliXiPNNoAlgRhE6w36jQCRoMaWigN0NAYvdqm_dSlE8hx45z4LJRWNolwjj-RSF2dCbDbkJXfx/s1600/981618_10203667517396391_4249043757589491764_o.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: xx-small;"> Photo Credit: Lynne-Marie Eteuati</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span lang="EN-US">Kept safe in five syllables<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">a haiku for my <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 36pt; text-align: left; text-indent: 36pt;">
<span lang="EN-US">faraway parents<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"> alofa tele atu</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Parents in Japan<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">See cherry trees blossoming<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-US">Here grandchildren bloom<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Fleeting beauty bolts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">past like childhood much too fast <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and we clutch at both<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">constrained by ingrained<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">tautua mo Samoa<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">My father’s duty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">We know no beauty <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">can compare but true service<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">is a sacrifice<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and both of them have<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">always been so generous<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">of spirit and self<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">honour them knowing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">their Facebook smiles do not show<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">they left their hearts here<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Ta - ni - fa -te - a<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span lang="EN-US">Kept safe in five syllables</span><br />
Ti - gi - i - la - gi<br />
<br />
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
Author's postscript: I honour my parents and I honour the work they do for our country, and I have the deepest respect for the beautiful cultured country that they do that work in (which is why I clumsily tried to use the haiku- a Japanese art form). But we miss them- terribly.</div>
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-25707844985153801762014-04-11T18:25:00.003-07:002014-05-09T20:27:22.678-07:00Just another Pasifika poet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I am just another Pasifika poet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">a token, a sound bite<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">No matter what I write <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">my words cannot stand <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">on their own<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">because I am not quite white.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I am just another Pasifika poet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">so I must speak in iambic pentameter<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and I learnt my craft on youtube<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">You will say I must be copying Def Poetry Jam<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">Because you know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">We are<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">both brown.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">You <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">who have never
heard the beauty<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">of a tulafale’s words <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">unfurling in full flight<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">you <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">you say <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">I am just another Pasifika poet<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">On a search for identity <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">As if I don’t know <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">my entire geneaology<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">you say I am obsessed with the other <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">because I do not talk about you<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">as if Aotearoa is not part of the Pacific<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and Pasifika <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">and the most disturbing thing is<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<br /></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">because you are <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">palagi<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span lang="EN-US">(I assume…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">on their own.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span><br />
<span lang="EN-US">and I</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span>
<span lang="EN-US">am</span><br />
<span lang="EN-US"><br /></span><span lang="EN-US">just another </span><br />
<span lang="EN-US">Pasifika poet</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">No matter what I write<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">My words cannot stand<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">on their own</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Because I am not quite white</span><br />
and this<br />
<br />
this<br />
<br />
is just another sound bite<br />
<br />
<br />
I hope it rips you apart<br />
<br />
with its teeth.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Author's postscript: I was not going to dignify an '<a href="http://www.thebigidea.co.nz/news/interviews/2014/mar/139116-mouths-from-the-south%20">article' that was published in The Big Idea</a> </span>with a response. I went instead to<a href="https://www.facebook.com/supsouth"> SUP</a> and performed a couple of the poems (<a href="http://sydneyfob.blogspot.co.nz/2013/02/denial.html">Denial</a> and <a href="http://sydneyfob.blogspot.co.nz/2013/09/a-lament.html">A Lament</a> -that are already up on this blog) in solidarity. But it was not enough. Too often we look the other way. As evident by the title of this blog- I normally live in Sydney. I have lived in Australia for more than 10 years now. As an Australian (as well as a Samoan and a New Zealander) I own that Australia has issues with racism. Popular culture tell us that New Zealand is more accepting, a place that truly embraces its Pacific heritage. I was looking forward to this change during my 'gap year' (as I am referring to it so I can sound youthful like that). So I have been somewhat shocked that New Zealand hasn't quite been the utopia of multi-cultural respect that I fondly recalled. I can honestly say that I have had moments since arriving in Auckland where I have listened to people speak, or read an article such as this one, and thought that I have never felt more brown. This is my response.</div>
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-17213553436504452752013-09-08T00:12:00.001-07:002013-09-08T00:12:21.006-07:00I am not a migrant or a refugee<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am not a migrant or a refugee<br />
<div>
Sometimes that still shocks me</div>
<div>
The me that is not quite white</div>
<div>
The me that listens as people trip</div>
<div>
over the soft round vowels of my name</div>
<div>
The me that refuses to cover</div>
<div>
the tattoos that show me as other</div>
<div>
and knows that neither my father nor mother</div>
<div>
are Australian</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am not a migrant or a refugee</div>
<div>
Though my people are of the sea</div>
<div>
So that when someone is a true leader</div>
<div>
We call them <br />
Tautai</div>
<div>
Navigator</div>
<div>
One who has warred with waves.</div>
<div>
It is a title of respect, of honour</div>
<div>
But here, here, I hear</div>
<div>
Stop the boats</div>
<div>
And wonder where the honour is </div>
<div>
in people playing politics with people's lives</div>
<div>
As Machiavelli thrives, and they sharpen knives, and we don't stop as they dehumanise</div>
<div>
And 'welcome to Australia' <br />
gets drowned</div>
<div>
Like those children THEY like to throw overboard.</div>
<div>
WE<br />
are so much better than <br />
THEM</div>
<div>
We'd only put those children in detention</div>
<div>
And call that civilised.</div>
<div>
We call it humanity and generosity<br />
as we send them off to Nauru and PNG</div>
<div>
And we say<br />
oh well</div>
<div>
I am not a migrant or refugee</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I am not a migrant or a refugee</div>
<div>
I'm an Australian by accident of birth I say blithely</div>
<div>
To explain that I was born when my dad was doing his PhD</div>
<div>
And we left when I was three</div>
<div>
to a place where the Southern Cross meant something other</div>
<div>
then a badge for bogans</div>
<div>
who tell you to get the fuck out of the country</div>
<div>
that Captain Cook claimed to have discovered</div>
<div>
when it had long since<br />
been found. </div>
<div>
<br />
No, I am not a migrant or a refugee</div>
<div>
<br />
But if this is the quality of our discourse</div>
<div>
<br />
Then God, oh my God</div>
<div>
<br />
Allah huma Allah</div>
<div>
<br />
We really need the diversity.</div>
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-65502310801498247742013-09-05T17:46:00.000-07:002014-04-12T06:53:07.942-07:00A Lament<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Oi aue<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"><br /></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In Samoan love stories<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">We would turn into<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Turtle and shark.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">One will consume the other.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Oi aue<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In Samoan love stories<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Sina’s prince is an eel<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And happily ever after<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Is when her beloved<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Is beheaded<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Transformed into a niu<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So she can finally (safely) drink<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">His sweet sweet juice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Oi aue<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In Samoan love stories<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Men chase beautiful white women<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Into woods <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">and are never seen again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And one</span><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">blessed so that he could not lose in battle<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">into bed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">and ambushed, betrayed, killed dead<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">a pale of lau </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">maile</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">still around his head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">They say the fires of A’ana<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Burnt bright<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Fuelled by fury<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">and revenge<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">and lit John William’s journey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">into harbour.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">For mine is a Samoan love story<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And we all know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">How they end.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Author's Postscript</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span class="userContent"></span></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span class="userContent">What effect do our stories have on us?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span class="userContent">The Samoan love stories I grew up with all contained dire warnings about investing too much of yourself in romantic love... after all that may distract one from the all consuming love for the aiga so</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">important in our culture</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Of course no race has an exclusive claim on charm (and of course I am biased), but I have always found my people charming- quick to laughter and to song, with an easy confidence and a fantastic sense of humour. Conversely, there is a cavalier attitude to relationships and to monogamy. Not for us the outrage and universal condemnation when someone steps out on what is supposed to be a committed relationship.</span></span></span></div>
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This poem is a reflection and a lament</div>
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on Samoan love</div>
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Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-91803483629142433012013-09-05T02:31:00.002-07:002013-09-05T02:31:46.294-07:00Malofie- sharing the beauty of the malu and the pe'a<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span class="userContent">A very clever, creative and culturally sensitive Samoan friend of mine (with a malu) is collecting stories and photos from around the world of those with the tatau (malu or pe'a) and considering putting together a coffee table book. I think this is a fantastic project and having met Samoans all over the world, I can just imagine how stunning it will be and I'm very excited to see her taking it on.</span><br />
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<span class="userContent">Please support this by sharing this link, liking this page, and by sharing your own wonderful stories and photos wherever you are on <a href="https://www.facebook.com/oletatau" rel="nofollow">https://www.facebook.com/oletatau</a></span></div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-53510403737833274442013-08-24T05:53:00.002-07:002013-08-25T03:40:04.433-07:00Fire, Feagaiga and Feminism*<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><u><span style="line-height: 27px;">…Or why this white looking wanderer </span></u></b><b><u><span style="line-height: 27px;">went home to get her <i>malu</i></span></u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 27px;">I was really excited when I was first asked to speak about my <i>malu</i>.... </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ZTSbIawmyte0VgONYZOi6DY9CeakuG_b-ZiNbgZ4EUcPRBmiPs6Pu6NglSIsssSCHq96hT1XBVcDA7ZSg7bacoCzY316y3wTk-FZ0sWbJTBx56fbZvfKpzIhlxwxXgpvnADrnatJ-FLK/s1600/bone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4ZTSbIawmyte0VgONYZOi6DY9CeakuG_b-ZiNbgZ4EUcPRBmiPs6Pu6NglSIsssSCHq96hT1XBVcDA7ZSg7bacoCzY316y3wTk-FZ0sWbJTBx56fbZvfKpzIhlxwxXgpvnADrnatJ-FLK/s640/bone.jpg" width="451" /></a></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">My very first thought was- I wonder if I can pretend that THOSE are MY legs. But I think even liberal references to photoshopping wouldn’t work- damn you reality! I really really really want legs like Stacie!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">My second thought was about how very personal this discussion would be. While in Western society- the question ‘who are you’ is a chance to delve into deep philosophical questions about our humanity, the equivalent question in Samoan, ‘<i>o ai oe</i>’ can be a deep insult and a challenge. Because we are all supposed to know anyone who is anyone, and all of their ancestors, way, way, way back to Tagaloa. Speaking about my malu, will answer that question, which in Samoa can be so taboo to ask- it will tell you who I am.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">When I was 16 I wanted a <i>malu</i>. I didn’t think they were particularly beautiful (probably because I didn’t have legs like Stacie). But (like every Samoan) I was well aware of my bloodlines and felt it was my birthright. My parents thought I would feel differently when I got older. They said '<i>ah but you want to be a lawyer and that is a very conservative profession</i>’. My mum worried about how it might affect my ability to wear minis and my dad warned me about the gang affiliations of tattoos in the West. Of course I obeyed- in Samoa we don’t rebel- we just get musu (this is where you are rebelling quietly to yourself so you don’t feel that <i>salu lima</i>).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">So over a decade later, when I was living in Australia, working in that conservative profession and occasionally flaunting my <i>vae taamu</i> (for the <i>palagis</i>, I just compared my legs to a particularly thick root crop), when my cousins called to tell me they were having their <i>tatau</i> done, despite not having any money or holiday time, I was on the very next plane to Samoa.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Why was I so eager to feel the bite of the <i>'au</i>? </span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Especially given the pain is legendary and it leav</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">es you with bruises like these.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Perhaps it was because even after all this time overseas, I realised that it was the values of my culture ingrained so deeply in me, that had empowered and enabled me to succeed so far from the shores of Samoa.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">The Samoan culture I grew up with is fiery. There is a passion and a power in excelling and in being the best.</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">This was always expected of me. Particularly academically.</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"> </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">The way you achieved reflected not only on you, but on your entire family.</span><span style="line-height: 18px;"> Some of you may not know this but Samoans are well known, especially across the Pacific for being <s>just a bit</s> arrogant. I think that is because the pride we take in ourselves is not individual, it is pride in who we are as a collective, as part of a family, as a reflection of something much bigger than ourselves.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">The </span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> culture I grew up with was feminist.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">It was the type of feminism that didn’t name or declare itself loudly- it just was.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">Both men and women can become <i>matai</i> or chiefs.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">And we treat in-laws who stay with the family- </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">nofo tane</i><span style="line-height: 115%;"> and </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">fai ava</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">- with equal disdain whether they are men or women.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">In my own family, my Grandma ruled supreme.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">She didn’t need an iron fist- she had razor intellect and was known to promptly put anyone in their place (though since I never saw anyone actually disagree with her- I never actually witnessed that. In Samoan culture, people take the first name of their father as their last name- this makes it easier to ‘</span><i style="line-height: 115%;">tala le gafa</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">’ or tell genealogies.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">My father took his mother's and his father's first names.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">It wasn’t a statement- it was just who he was.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">I was brought up believing that I could do anything that my brothers could- though I did feign female weakness when it came to taking out the rubbish.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I always felt my culture valued me as a woman. This was encapsulated in the concept of <i>feagaiga</i>- the sacred relationship between a brother and sister. In Samoan we say- '<i>o le tuafafine o le ioimata o lana tuagage'</i>- a sister is the very pupil of her brother’s eye- she is the centre of his being. It is my brother’s duty to protect and look after me, it is my duty to guide them. In the distribution of gifts and titles, mine will be the final say among my brothers, as my grandma’s was the final say among hers. A sister has traditional spiritual power. It is this most special of relationships that is signified by the stars of the <i>malu</i>. It signifies that a sister is a guiding light to navigate by. And woe be to the brother who invokes his sisters curse- you’ve read about <i>telesa</i> powers so you might be able to imagine….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">All over the world I have been stopped in the street and asked about the symbolism of my <i>malu</i>. I am proud to explain how the </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">vaeali</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">- the feet of the head rest- symbolise that it is on the service of the untitled that the chiefs heads rest. </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">That the pattern with the intersecting lines represents the intersection between the </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">matai</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">- the chiefs, the </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">aumaga</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">- the untitled mens group and the </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">aualuma</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">, the young womens group led by the taupou. </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">That the </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">aveau</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">, the starfish represents </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">aiga</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">, family and the central role that family plays in our culture. </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">And that the </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">malu</i><span style="line-height: 115%;"> itself, the centre of the entire design, the diamond, represents being protected and to protect.</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 115%;">That a woman is the protecter of bloodlines and of knowledge and the bearer of children.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">So while 16 year old me wanted a </span><i style="line-height: 115%;">malu</i><span style="line-height: 115%;">, I’m glad I waited till I was 27- till I could reflect on what my </span><span style="line-height: 18px;"><i>malu</i></span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> really meant to me. It is more than a birthright, for me it signifies my culture and all of its f</span><span style="line-height: 115%;">ire, <i>feagaiga</i>, and feminism.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;"><i>Faafetai, faafetai tele lava</i><span style="font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">*I was very grateful to the amazing <a href="http://laniwendtyoung.me/">Lani Wendt-Young</a> </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/griffithpasifika">Griffith University</a> (the lovely Glenda Stanley) for inviting me to speak for 5 minutes at the Brisbane launch of '<i>T</i></span><i style="line-height: 18px;">he Bone Bearer'</i><span style="line-height: 18px;"> about my journey in getting the </span><i style="line-height: 18px;">malu. </i><span style="line-height: 18px;">The above are the short speaking notes for the presentation I gave. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18px;">While these notes are about my journey with my </span><i style="line-height: 18px;">malu</i><span style="line-height: 18px;">, I want to write a short postscript about Lani's journey. One of the things I have really admired most about her journey is how all along it, Lani has encouraged and empowered so many other people. While writing her books, I have watched from afar as she has encouraged artists, photographers, models, dancers, poets, comedians (take a bow fabulously funny <a href="http://youtu.be/FNzvgK-0ptE">Gau Siaki</a>) and fellow bloggers and writers. In turn, all these myriad of people have supported Lani. It has been a real lesson in the power of positivity. It has been my great privilege to be one of those people to have been encouraged by Lani, and to have been able to give back in this smallest of ways.</span></span></div>
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Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-26636562803764187312013-06-01T06:43:00.001-07:002013-06-01T15:44:34.862-07:0034 years of Independence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">To celebrate Samoa's 51st year of
Independence, I'm going to blog a bit about the 34 years of mine (because I'm
self-involved like that). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Samoa is the country of my heart, it
has shaped me <s>into the plus plus plus size model that I am today</s>,
it is a central part of who I am. And so I have always been happy
not to have a name like Jane or Jennifer. Even though person
after person struggles and stumbles over the eight syllables, even as
they mispronounce and mutilate it, I have always loved my name. I have
loved it for its very foreignness- for the fact it pronounces me Polynesian in
each softly rounded vowel. That it is Samoan. Like me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So the subject of changing my last
name has been a heated topic between my beloved and I. He
who carries the two-syllabled British last name of his much-loved grandpa,
while I carry the Samoan first name of mine (Samoans traditionally take the
first name of their father as their last name, this is how we <i>'tala le
gafa', </i>how we recite our genealogy). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My name is a part of me, it is who
he met, it is who he fell in love with. Though I love Shakespeare, even my 13-year-old self was not
impressed by Juliet's plea:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">'Tis but thy name that is my enemy.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thou art thyself, though not a
Montague.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor
foot,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Nor arm, nor face, nor any other
part</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Belonging to a man. O, be some other
name!</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">What’s in a name? That which we call
a rose</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">By any other word would smell as
sweet.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">So Romeo would, were he not Romeo
called,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Retain that dear perfection which he
owes</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Without that title. Romeo, doff thy
name,</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And for that name, which is no part
of thee</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Take all myself.</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And it's not just because I felt
that these two were less star-crossed lovers, more melodramatic, naïve
teenagers. Our names grow with us. We have lived and loved and laughed
with our names. Our names have defined us and we have defined them. Indeed since I was 13, I have only grown more attached to
it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Certainly in Australia it seems a
rose by any other name is not as sweet. A recent </span><a href="http://people.anu.edu.au/andrew.leigh/pdf/AuditDiscrimination.pdf"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Australian National University study</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> found that you're </span><a href="http://www.theage.com.au/comment/curse-of-australias-silent-pervasive-racism-20130404-2h9i1.html#ixzz2Uwvxw1Z3"><span style="color: blue; font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">significantly less likely to get a job interview</span></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> if you have a non-European name. The researchers sent fake
CVs in response to job ads, changing only the name of the applicant. The
study found that those with Chinese and Middle- Eastern last names had to
submit at least 50% more applications to receive the same number of job
interviews as those with Anglo last names. Those with Indigenous last
names were similarly disadvantaged (though not to the same level). The
study didn't test Polynesian names, but I'm certain the results would be
similar. Perhaps this is the reason so many migrants anglicise their
names. According to the same ANU study, specialist job seeking companies
for migrants certainly advise it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't judge changing your name, it's
pragmatic. It is also something I could never do. I have carried my name
proudly all 34 years of my life and (despite the study and the stats) I
have forged what I consider to be a pretty good career with it. I can’t
just shrug it off as you would an old ‘ie lavalava.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not even if it is for something some may think prettier or
easier to pronounce.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Over the course of that career I
have often been confused as the Katies, Elizabeths and Amys of my
acquaintance would shed their last names (so routinely used by us,
their colleagues, to identify them) to take on their
husband's. Each conversation became long-winded. 'Amy Randwick is
the contact point on that, you should call her.' 'Amy Randwick?' 'Yes,
Amy, you know, she's in criminal justice, she's got straight brown hair.' 'Amy
Gibbs?' 'No, that's a different Amy, Amy Gibbs is Amy Marion now'. 'Amy
Randwick' she used to be in MA, I can't remember her maiden name, maybe
Thomas or Smith' 'Oh Amy Smith, ok, yep I know her'.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My mum tells me she chose to take
her husband's name, for what was her last name, except her father's name and
his father's before him. She felt that, since the whole system was patriarchal,
she may as well take her husband's last name, a name she would share with her
children. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p></span><br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">For my fiancé, it’s a declaration of
love and respect and togetherness. But he will not change his
name for me. There-in lies the rub. For I proposed a compromise (being
the charming and reasonable person that I am). That he change his name by
deed poll to include my last name and I would change mine to include his.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">'Guys don't change their
names. It's just how it is.' <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">And beneath that is the sub-text,
that people will think he is whipped, less of a man, that this will somehow
signal some type of submission. While not considering what giving up
my last name would symbolise to me. For me it would be an admission
that my name is not mine, that it merely is some sort of marker of who I
belong to (because being a woman I couldn't possibly just belong to
myself). It would symbolise entering into a sexist institution that
requires sacrifice... which would be fine, if it were not only from me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is not the marriage I want or can believe in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love and respect my partner and myself enough to want to be in the only type of marriage that could sustain our
relationship. A marriage of equals. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">As Samoa celebrates its 51<sup>st</sup>
year of Independence, I also celebrate mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
It 1997 Samoa changed its name to the name of her birth. Refusing to be determined in relation to arbitrary lines of colonisation. </span>We have come so far, my country and I. </span><br />
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Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-91989481811753692482013-06-01T00:52:00.000-07:002013-06-01T00:53:59.943-07:00Australia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">Pervasive racism<br /> is in the slips of tongues,<br /> in that joke<br /> you didn't really mean to say<br /> (well not on radio anyway).<br /> It's in the expectation <br /> that a half hearted 'But I'm not racist' apology<br /> should be accepted<br /> with 'good grace'<br /> because after all</span></div>
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed">
<span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="text_exposed_show">everyone makes mistakes<br /> and though the comments, <br /> you concede, were racial vilification<br /> we can in no way conclude that <br /> you <br /> vilified<br /> an entire race.</span></span></div>
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-63216852577869736812013-02-03T23:39:00.000-08:002013-02-04T13:51:07.634-08:00Denial<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
They say diabetes is a silent killer<br />
a thief in the night<br />
that creeps up to you like a moetolo<br />
embracing you against your will <br />
<br />
but I saw him coming<br />
in the WTO siusiu pipi and mamoe<br />
and 5 cans of coke I had<br />
before lunch<br />
<br />
I saw him coming<br />
but in my Samoan pride<br />
I scoffed.<br />
<br />
laughed like it was a fale aitu<br />
<br />
and said<br />
<br />
aga ou te le fefe i le oti.<br />
<br />
They say diabetes is a silent killer<br />
so we don't say much about him<br />
as we shovel suka into our koko alaisa<br />
and sneak off to shove a needle in our stomach<br />
<br />
and when he strikes<br />
and takes my eyes<br />
my teeth<br />
my legs<br />
<br />
I will say<br />
<br />
the Lord works in mysterious ways<br />
<br />
and be praised<br />
<br />
for my faith.<br />
<br />
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br />
<br />
<u>Postnote</u><br />
I don't have diabetes. Yet. But when I hit 99kg I knew I was staring at it, and a whole lot of other heath problems, down a barrel. 99kg is severely obese for someone who is 5'6. And no amount of <s>telling everyone, especially myself</s> believing that I have 'big bones' or that the BMI is different for Polynesians is going to change that.<br />
<br />
Sia Figel's bravery in <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#!/SiaFigielHasDiabetesDiabetesDoesntHaveHer">speaking out about her very personal struggle with diabetes</a> showed me how we all have to speak out and own that our health statistics are a tragedy. It also showed me that I have to take action to not be one of them.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HXVx-4HeIc">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4HXVx-4HeIc</a><br />
<br />
Sia was brave enough to put this harrowing and very personal video on youtube, to show us her very roots, literally. I watched it.... right through. Because if some is brave enough to share this sh@#, to say <a href="mailto:'F@#$">'F%#$</a> pride, this my friends, is diabetes, take a good hard look', I will honour that, by watching it right through. I hope you will too.</div>
<br /></div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-43296153885601640542013-02-01T06:02:00.003-08:002013-02-01T14:47:27.523-08:00Lou sei<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I love that white flower <br />
in your long black hair<br />
Unapologetic<br />
<br />
I imagine I can smell its scent<br />
though I am standing<br />
across the street<br />
It is salt and sun<br />
like the backs of my forefathers <br />
who refused to bow<br />
<br />
I love that white flower<br />
in your long black hair<br />
<br />
It speaks to me<br />
in soft vowels saying <br />
<br />
you are<br />
<br />
quietly confident<br />
<br />
in who<br />
<br />
you are<br />
<br />
and where<br />
<br />
we are from<br />
<br />
I love that white flower <br />
in your long black hair<br />
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-35317637091775417532012-08-10T20:18:00.002-07:002012-08-10T21:31:14.738-07:00Tweet tweet, oh fricken chicken, how do I delete<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiD0BM8iVvwK8pxbyqKSz3Q-8r2pWgMKJaLpDZEpjc5zye-aJut2doZWFxVXotd9EEJnorfDjX-L8aokYF9oZ8Yc17V-_gFpLaYzbfeL2sTsUymXE1I4uRlWv6BAJmQAcBm0PTyi9J1yA/s1600/tweet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyiD0BM8iVvwK8pxbyqKSz3Q-8r2pWgMKJaLpDZEpjc5zye-aJut2doZWFxVXotd9EEJnorfDjX-L8aokYF9oZ8Yc17V-_gFpLaYzbfeL2sTsUymXE1I4uRlWv6BAJmQAcBm0PTyi9J1yA/s320/tweet.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have finally joined the twitter-verse. Quick think of something profound and then share it! I think that's how this works <strike>as evidenced by infamous tweeters like Greek triple jumper Voula Papachristou, Swiss soccer player Michel Morganella and our very own Eliota Sapolu Fuimaono</strike>. Oh no! I accidentally hit enter, oh no! Delete, delete, where is the bloody delete?!? There goes my Olympic dream (it was definitely twitter, not the lack of any sporting bone in my entire body).<br />
<br />
I suddenly feel the need to hash tag something (even though I'm not quite sure what the hash tag is for). Clueless# OldFogey# CompletelyAncient# AllTooComplicated# Why-didn't-they-invent-all-this-when-I-was-still-in-school-and-still-had-enough-energy/braincells-to-pick-up-new-fangled-things# Why-does-my-smartphone-make-me-feel-so-dumb?# Questions-for-the-Universe#<br />
<br />
Now I can share all my deep and meaningful thoughts with the universe ...............................................<br />
............................................................................................................................................... I haven't thought of anything deep and meaningful for the last 5 seconds. Oh no! Am facing the distinct possibility I don't have any deep and meaningful thoughts generally. Other peoples' tweets keep on popping up.....oh the pressure.....hmmm ....that one links to a really interesting article. Click. I'm-as-easily-distracted-as-a-puppy# Am-quite-sure-if-there-was-social-media-when-I-was-in-school-I-would-have-flunked-out# Oh hashtags you are so satisfying- how did I ever express myself without you! <br />
<br />
I'm going to RT <strike>which google tells me means re-tweet</strike>- that way I will look clever by association. I just re-tweeted without giving any context...hmmmm.... perhaps not so clever after all. Perhaps I'll just go back to my blog. My warm, safe, familiar blog where I can delete and edit at will. And write about tweeting so that you can all follow my flailing and fraught adventures and attempts to be funny by following me @TeineSamoaSyd<br />
<br />
<br /></div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-52096809752619805582012-08-02T09:59:00.000-07:002012-08-02T18:07:39.901-07:00"I'll stand with you"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three Proud People- mural in Newtown </td></tr>
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I didn't know about Peter Norman until Damien Hooper wore the Aboriginal flag on his t-shirt into the Olympic arena <strike>just before he kicked ass for Australia</strike>. Incredulous that the Australian Olympic Committee (AOC) had chosen to censure him citing IOC rule 50 and the sanctity of the Olympic spirit, my mind <strike>which works in strange and mysterious ways</strike>, flashed with one of the most memorable images of the twentieth century history- Tommie Smith and John Carlos silently raising their fists in protest against the inequality suffered by African-Americans in the 1968 Olympics. I can't tell you when I first saw that image but I can say that I definitely I didn't pay any attention to whoever the skinny white guy was. </div>
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I didn't know that Peter Norman, an Australian who was "<a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/7674157.stm"><em>brought up in the Salvos</em></a>", was, against all odds, the silver medalist in that race in 68. I didn't know that he and his family had championed Aboriginal rights in the lead-up to the 67 referendum. I didn't know that Tommie Smith and John Carlos had told him that they were planning to protest, nor that he had pinned the Olympic Project for Human Rights badge to his chest in solidarity and said, "<em>I'll stand with you</em>".</div>
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I didn't know that he had stood there in both the moment of shocked silence and then the storm that followed, while people hurled whatever was to hand as well as racial abuse- "<em>Niggers need to go back to Africa!" </em>and<em>, "I can't believe this is how you niggers treat us after we let you run in our games."</em> John Carlos recounted the experience saying he never saw the fear he expected to see in Peter Norman's eyes, instead,<em> <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2014696648">"I saw love. Peter never flinched (on the dais). He never turned his eyes, he never turned his head</a></em><a href="http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2012/mar/30/black-power-salute-1968-olympics">."</a></div>
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Just taking that stand, just wearing that badge cost Peter Norman very dearly- Australia's Olympic authorities reprimanded him and the media ostracised him. On his return to Australia he was also banned for two years. Despite running qualifying times for the 100m five times and 200m 13 times during 1971/72, the Australian Olympic track team did not send him to the 1972 Summer Olympics (though he was ranked 5th in the world and despite the fact that they had noone else to send so that this was the first modern Olympics since 1896 where no Australian sprinters participated). Even 32 year later, despite the fact Peter Norman's record still stood for the 200 metres, he was somehow "overlooked" and the only Australian Olympian medal winner to be excluded from making a VIP lap of honour at the Sydney Games in 2000. But Tommie Smith and John Carlos, who he had stood with all those years ago, had not forgotten him. Neither had the American Athletes who welcomed him into their accomodation- "<a href="http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/7674157.stm"><em>that year's 200m champion Michael Johnson hugged him, saying: "You are my hero."</em></a><br />
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I'm proud that our nation, that has so much to be sorry for and ashamed of, also produces people like Peter Norman. I wish I could attribute the fact I didn't know about this great Australian to the fact I grew up in Samoa but as I read on I realised how little was known about him by many of my fellow Australians. Which brings me back to Damien Hooper, whose t-shirt triggered that image and taught me about Peter Norman, an Australian Olympian who made a silent stand for human rights for all humanity. 44 years on the AOC doesn't seem to have learnt anything from that stand.<br />
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I am really struggling to see how the AOC can say that the Aboriginal flag is a "<em>demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda</em>" as set out in rule 50 of the Olympic Charter. As an Australian, I find it incredibly offensive that the Aboriginal flag, proclaimed by the Australian Government as an official 'Flag of Australia' in 1995 (under s5 of the Flags Act 1953) is being labeled "<em>racial propaganda</em>". I also can't reconcile the AOC's position with the fact that at the Sydney Olympics the Aboriginal flag was flown, that the Sydney Games Organising Committee said
<a href="http://www.rediff.com/sports/2000/aug/21abo.htm">"<em>The IOC has made it clear that they are relaxed about the Aboriginal flag and they understand its significance in Australia</em>"</a> <em>and individual teams were able to decide whether athletes carried it</em>. Who can forget Cathy Freeman's victory lap with the Aboriginal and Australian flags flowing behind her as the whole nation cheered on? <br />
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As a non-indigenous Australian, I'm part of a nation that recognises both the Aboriginal and the Australian National Flag and I'm proud to be associated with both. And I'm cheering on an amazing athlete who said at the end of his match "<em>I am an Aboriginal, representing my culture and all my people, and I am very proud</em>".<br />
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Damien Hooper- I'll stand with you.<br />
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</div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-35733491455989428272012-08-01T01:54:00.000-07:002012-08-11T18:28:33.378-07:00Who's who in the zoo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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In the weekend we went to the zoo. Not just any old zoo. The Taronga Zoo, jewel in Sydney's tourism crown, complete with 'bio-geographic' mega-exhibits and committed to conservation and "<em>positive connections between wildlife and people</em>". Now as a Samoan, I have to admit that my "<em>positive connections</em>" with wildlife have by in large been called "lunch" (or sometimes "dinner"), so you may be wondering which part of this magnificent manifestation of this slightly strange concept appealed to me most... Was it the languorous lazing lions, the swiftly swimming seals or the great giraffes with their improbable necks which afford them spectacular views of the sparkling Sydney harbour? Well, what I really love about the zoo, is how it reaffirms the natural order of things, how it really reminds you who's who.<br />
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As soon as we arrive my mum, begins scanning the zoo timetable. "<em>We need to head to the kids trail so Lagi can pat-a-pet at 10.30</em>."<br />
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"<em>Ok, it's quarter to 10 now, so we have heaps of time.</em>"<br />
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"<em>The quickest way is left, don't get diverted, we need to go straight to the petting zoo, I really think Lagi will love that." </em> Having been herded in the appropriate direction, we tramp off in search of pets for Lagi's petting pleasure. <br />
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"<em>Don't look left or right, we don't want to be late.</em>" We get there at 10.15. Lagi immediately starts trying to break the bunny out, by pulling on the large lock. My mum captures about 50 shots of him doing this for posterity while I secretly wonder at whether this experience will imprint on him and he will become a master criminal with super safe cracking abilities.<br />
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While I mull over my child's possible future as a super villain, the volunteers turn up. Lots of little ones and their parents are now milling around waiting. I am jockeyed into prime position by my mum. The bunny sees us coming and quickly hops to the relative safety of the back of the enclosure. Lagi, unused to such contrary behaviour to his 17 month old charms, laughs out loud and picks up some straw and confidently holds it out with a big smile to the bunny. More flashes go off as mum elbows more minors out of the way to catch all the action. <br />
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Having petted to his heart's content, we then explore the rest of the farm, there are chickens to chase, and mountain goats to gawk at. E tua'i le fefe la'u tama - so when I see him starting to toddle after the towering bush turkey, I know it's time to distract him in the traditional Samoan way... with food! Off we go to a cafe to order carrot cupcakes (with one last longing look at the red velvet cupcakes ... edicts on red velvet and their consumption in front of Lagi, evil red food poisoning and all, had previously been issued). <br />
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"<em>Have you only half-finished that coffee, because we really need to get over to the bird show, Lagi loves birds</em>"and we are hot footing it to the other side of the zoo, where Lagi decides he was actually a Raj in a previous life and would rather ride on the stone elephants, then it's hiking over to the "Great Southern Ocean exhibit so he can be delighted by the ducking and darting of the pretty blue fairy penguins, before letting him try to catch carp in the rainforest exhibit. By the 2pm seal show we are all exhausted. But having secured a seat we decide to stay and watch, Lagi has seen all this before and decides he'd rather snuggle into me and sleep.<br />
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He is warm and heavy in my arms and my mind wanders, to how fast he is growing and to how we used to have a lunch date every day. He would come into the city, and no matter what was going on that day, I would duck out of work. I loved seeing him in the middle of a busy work day, but it wasn't always convenient, and by the time he was turning one, and was happily devouring all sorts of delicious foods wth his very pretty <strike>and very sharp</strike> pearly whites, I thought he probably wouldn't miss mummy too much at lunch times. I had cautiously mentioned my intentions to my mum - Lagi's <strike> primary carer/ enabler/ champion against the world and, in particular, against his neglectful and unfeeling mother</strike> mama. A look full of doubt and worry was immediately cast in my direction to convey just how uncaring I was being, considering such a catastrophic change.<br />
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"<em>I breastfed all four of you until you were at least two. It's in the W.H.O guidelines.</em>" Hinting at endangering health and going for guilt are great techniques and can be employed especially effectively when championing your grandchild. <br />
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"<em>Yes, I'm still going to breastfeed him, just not at lunch time.</em>"<br />
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"<em>I think I may have even breastfed you longer, maybe even till three</em>" Apparently, exageration is also permitted when you are proving your point, especially if the person you are making your point to is not in a position to argue as they were only two (or three) at the time in dispute.<br />
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Splash! I am brought back to reality as the seal ends the show with a double back flip. We gather up our things and start preparing to head home. As we walk out with a very tired little boy, past all the exhibits we didn't quite manage to get to, I glance at the gorillas, and smile thinking about their social structure, and how visiting here has reminded me yet again of our own; Here's who's who in our zoo:<br />
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1. Lagi<br />
2. Lagi<br />
3. Lagi<br />
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Facilitator / Enforcer of all things Lagi: Lagi's Mama<br />
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Support Staff: Me (oh.... and his dad)<br />
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I look down at the long sweep of his eyelashes, and think I don't much mind the natural order.<br />
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<br /></div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-32096234966915612832012-07-24T08:04:00.002-07:002012-07-25T02:57:11.122-07:00True confessions of a teine Samoa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So I'm going to tell you something just a little bit scandalous for a Samoan girl. I imagine that your eyes are already skipping down the screen to read my revelation.... yes I know you and your <em>faikakala-ness</em> so well! Well slow down and I'll share my school girl fantasy, for the very first time ....EVER..... <br />
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Oh wait.....I don't need to, because Lani Wendt-Young somehow read teenage me's mind! Then she wrote all about it in "<em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Water-Burns-Telesa-ebook/dp/B008F6CLY4">When Water Burns</a></em>"! I feel like the "<em>bride stripped bare</em>". Ok I know you're all nodding in agreement and understanding, and thinking, it's Daniel.... *heavy sigh* and Keahi.... *even heavier sigh*, it's the fact that they're both super hot paddlers in an outrigger competition, and they're both super cut, that they both have tattoos, that they have super powers, and that they are fighting over <strike>me</strike> Leila....Ok I admit that may play a very very very small part in it...but kicking one of those guy's butts when he gets a bit too cheeky... now <u>that's</u> what extravagent and unrestrained imagination is ALL about!<br />
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The first book in the Telesa trilogy "<em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q/ref=pd_sim_kstore_1/184-0375857-1894722?ie=UTF8&m=A24IB90LPZJ0BS">Telesa-The Covenant Keeper</a></em>" had left us on tenterhooks. Sure Daniel's responsible, and really good looking, sure he was head prefect, and sure he plays rugby, and sure he is close to perfect to take home to your parents <strike>if anyone ever does that in Samoa, in my day you'd have had to have a death wish</strike> . Those are all great qualities, but they're not necessarily the type of qualities that will turn a girl's head in high school. Plus <strike>I'm, I mean,</strike> Leila is a fire goddess... so he kind of needed to step up his game. So when, at the end of <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343140567&sr=1-1&keywords=telesa">Telesa</a></em> the sea returns Daniel safe, I was already imagining him swimming <strike>in various states of undress</strike> with sharks and I couldn't wait to see <strike>that birthmark again</strike> how his super powers would manifest.<br />
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<em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Water-Burns-Telesa-ebook/dp/B008F6CLY4/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343140567&sr=1-2&keywords=telesa">When Water Burns</a></em> built brilliantly on <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343140567&sr=1-1&keywords=telesa">Telesa</a>, </em>using the clever character development and scene setting in the first book, to make this second book faster paced and even more impossible to put down. I was smiling wryly to myself, reading about iphone 4 conversations, on the kindle app on my iphone 4s (I obviously had to get the gratuitous mention of my iphone in there, you know I did!). Yes it was wrecking my eyes, but it was enabling reading while doing the domestic duties that desperately needed the most attention <strike>you know little things, like feeding my child</strike>.<br />
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<em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Water-Burns-Telesa-ebook/dp/B008F6CLY4/ref=sr_1_2?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343140567&sr=1-2&keywords=telesa">When Water Burns</a></em> delves more into the "<em>dalacious</em>" Simone, who really comes into her own in the second book of the series. Simone is still screamingly funny (see Tim Baice's write-up in <a href="http://www.sydneyfob.blogspot.com.au/2011/10/simone-in-city.html">Simone in the City</a> for some great insights), but in this book Simone is the girlfriend we all wanted, wise and witty, making sure Leila sees sense... such as ensuring she makes appropriate arrangements for her Louboutin shoes (appropriate arrangements being willing them to Simone of course, I said wise, <u>not</u> lacking in self-interest!)<br />
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I'm a reader, a book worm, a super geek. I embrace it! As anyone who has ever glanced at my blog will know, for me reading has been a real joy, a comfort and a constant companion. Perhaps it's because we all love sharing our own passions, that I loved how <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Telesa-The-Covenant-Keeper-ebook/dp/B005I3WD8Q/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1343140567&sr=1-1&keywords=telesa">Telesa</a></em> and <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Water-Burns-Telesa-ebook/dp/B008F6CLY4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1343140241&sr=8-2&keywords=when+water+burns">When Water Burns</a></em> appealed to many people who don't necessarily have those particular proclivities. It's one of the things I love about both books. Like <em>Twilight</em>, and <em>The Hunger Games Series</em>, it opened up reading to so many young Samoans, who may not have otherwise have been interested in reading. That's an <u>amazing</u> thing.<br />
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But for me, an even more amazing thing, and what I liked best about <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Water-Burns-Telesa-ebook/dp/B008F6CLY4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1343140241&sr=8-2&keywords=when+water+burns">When Water Burns</a></em> was how it confronted the issue of sexual abuse, a serious and difficult issue, especially in Samoa. The fact that <em><a href="http://www.amazon.com/When-Water-Burns-Telesa-ebook/dp/B008F6CLY4/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1343140241&sr=8-2&keywords=when+water+burns">When Water Burns</a></em> wove in this issue that we avoid, that we don't address or talk about, into this Young Adult fantasy romance, that is reaching so many, really made this book more than just a great read. As a child who was sexually abused, I know too well how this topic is taboo. How it can be swept under the carpet. How victims are too often voiceless. I remember the deep feeling of shame I had all through school, how it was so unspeakable, because I thought this was only something that had only ever happened to me. But I grew up. And I realised that I wasn't the only one, that it had also happened to an awful lot of others, others who hadn't spoken out and stopped it as I did as a child, that it was in fact, all too common. I realised that it's something that we, as a society, need to speak about. Because here's the thing about all the secrecy that surrounds sexual abuse, there is an unspoken implication that it somehow reflects on those who suffered. We never hear about the survivors, or, if we do, we never hear about their successes. We only hear survivors' stories when they are recounted as part of a tragic tale about a person who has gone off the tracks. This is why, a long time ago, I decided to no longer be silent. To say openly, I was sexually abused, and that does not define me or mean I am damaged. To say I was sexually abused, and I refuse to be stereotyped, I am no longer ashamed, and I don't need sympathy. To say I was sexually abused, and I'm a succesful member of society. And to say that as a member of society, not just as someone who was sexually abused, I applaud an author who can bring this issue front and centre in a fun racy Young Adult romance that people will read and relate to. <br />
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And so, just as she pays "<em>tribute to the generosity, commitment, and fortitude of those who work with survivors of domestic violence and sexual abuse</em>", I pay tribute to <a href="http://www.sleeplessinsamoa.blogspot.com/">Lani Wendt-Young</a>, who was brave enough to write about it. To say I appreciate it <strike>and oh teenage me also appreciated the gratuitous descriptions of both Keahi and Daniel in that outrigger competiotion, and LOVES how Leila can kick ass anytime</strike>. Write on!<br />
<br /></div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-86151273629856204852012-07-12T10:18:00.000-07:002014-04-12T21:03:56.014-07:00An unshakeable sense of self<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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"<em>Life in plastic, it's fantastic"</em></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">Is there anything more
powerful than a parent's love? I remember reading Lemalu Tate Simi's seminal
poem "<em>Identity</em>"* when I was in school. Even then, well before I had
imagined what it would be like to have a child, to have someone hold my whole
heart in his chubby little hands, to lie in the dark, listening to his breath
heavy with sleep, and hope for everything for him, even then, one of the things
that touched me most about Lemalu's poem, was that it was written for his
eldest son. That poem captures a parent's love and the prayers and plans we
make for our children. </span><br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">Perhaps I recognised
in those poignant words, a reflection of my own parents love, and what they
strove to give me. </span><br />
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">My parent's chose to
bring me and my brothers up in the bosom of my family and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fa'asamoa</i>. Yes the full fa'asamoa. The
'leave-you-very-lucky-to-eat-<em>elegi</em>-because-we-have-to-give-every-sene-for-your-father's-great-uncle's-cousin's-step-son's-<em>saofai</em>-and-smile'<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fa'asamoa</i>. The
'you-better-be-paying-attention-because-we-all-automatically-assume-you-were-born-knowing-how-to-<i>ta'i-sua-and-fai-folafolaga</i>'
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fa'asamoa</i>. The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fa’asamoa</i> that emphasises the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">fegaiga</i>
between brothers and their sisters, and brings families together. The <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">faasamoa</i> that we all know and love <s>to
whinge about</s> because it's a way of life, a way to look at life, and an
integral part of who we are.</span><br />
<br />
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</div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">I say
"chose" because by the time I was born, my dad had almost finished
his PhD, and my mum was one paper away from finishing her Masters, so they
both had options and opportunities overseas. Instead they went back to the
struggle that living in Samoa can be. I have always been unbelievably grateful
for that decision. Particularly to my <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">palagi </i>mother,
who left her friends, family and her country, to raise me in mine. </span></div>
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So I don't say 'even with', but rather <u>because</u> I had a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">palag</i>i mum, who loved me and wanted me
to have a strong sense of identity, and who sacrificed so we could grow up in
Samoa (and because I had a Samoan father stubborn about serving his country, and a close and loving <em>aiga</em> who never treated us differently),
I grew up never thinking of myself as anything but Samoan. I have read many touching stories about Samoans searching for identity. I was not one of them. I have never struggled with who I was or where I came from. I know how fortunate
that makes me. <br />
<br />
But I also know it doesn't make me any better than people whose parents
chose another path, who moved overseas, so often motivated by that very same
love. Samoans whose parents or grandparents often worked in factories and freezing
works, hard and heavy work, but welcome because it was a way of securing good
schooling, of seeking opportunities, and of forging a future <span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">for their children. T</span><span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">he legacy of those parents' love, those parents' choices, those parents' sacrifices should never be undermined by pejorative remarks that their progeny is "plastic" or "too <em>palagi</em>". </span><br />
<br />
That kind of prejudice within our own society perplexes me. I remember when I first went back to work in Samoa I was somewhat surprised when<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;"> a lawyer I knew said she wanted to be the first Samoan woman to be
Attorney-General. Now obviously that ambition, in and of itself, wasn't surprising. Rather what shocked me was that she somehow didn't think that that particular milestone had already been achieved. Particularly because, at the time, we <u>had</u> a Samoan woman as Attorney-General. I voiced my puzzlement.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">No, I mean a <u>real</u> Samoan, you know, <u>from</u> Samoa</i>”</span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">I didn't know. Was the AG at the time, a "fake" Samoan? Was her "palagi-ness" going to pop out at any second and surprise us? Or was it rather, that having nothing of substance to use to undermine her with, she turned to bigotry and bias to try to belittle this brilliant colleague.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">I <u>s</u></span><span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;"><u>till</u> don't know why we differentiate and discriminate amongst ourselves the way we do. It saddens me, and</span><span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;"> it is not just
against Samoans who live or grow up overseas. Oh no, there are so many more levels.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">I remember being
honestly confused when I was in school and someone said “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We better get to Apia Park early… you know how those Samoans are</i>”.
</span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">I questioned, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What are you talking about? We’re all Samoan</i>”</span></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">There was a rolling of
eyes. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Oh you know what I mean! Samoan
Samoans! Like from the village!</i>”</span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Hmmm… I find that offensive. I’m Samoan, my father’s Samoan, my family
is Samoan and I’m from a village, several actually</i>”</span></div>
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<br />
<span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">More rolling of eyes “<em>Se don't be a drama queen; I didn’t mean it
like <u>that</u></em>”. There seemed to be general agreement that I was ruining
a perfectly pleasant day by pointing out the prejudice.</span></div>
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<br />
I didn't escape this type of silliness on leaving school, or on leaving Samoa. <span style="mso-fareast-language: JA;">Years later when I went
to University in Auckland, a friend who was also on scholarship from Samoa,
cajoled and convinced me into going to an Asosi meeting with her.<em> "It will be sooooo fuuuuun." </em>Her<em> </em> wheedling won but we weren’t exactly
welcomed. While it was a Samoan Asosi, it seemed like we were just a little too…. wait for it…Samoan. Our fabulous fresh-off-the-boatness was just obviously not for everybody. “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Don’t worry</i>” said one of my Samoan law school buddies sympathetically, “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Didn’t you know
you’re not allowed in that Asosi if you’re less than a size 18</i>”. Though he was perpetuating the stereotypes I'm now railing against for my amusement, I have to admit at the time... I laughed. </span></div>
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<br />
I could tell many more such stories- more recent and each more ridiculous than the next- and I'm sure every other Samoan could too- but I only recount enough to reflect the cross-section of prejudices that we subject ourselves to within our own society. Whether it's because you're "<em>too white</em>" as Leilani Tamu recounts in her opinion piece <a href="http://spasifikmag.com/publicblogpage/leilanitamu/">"<em>White, but not quite</em></a>" or "<em>too Samoan</em>", or for whatever reason, it's really just such a waste of time. We should be better than that. Isn't that what we should really want for our children? A strong enough sense of identity they don't feel the need to stereotype and stigmatise.<br />
<br /></div>
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Now that I am a parent myself, I plan and pray about what is best for my child. My son is Samoan, <em>lo'u toto, ma lo'u ivi </em>(oh, and that's right, and his dad is Samoan too, that may have something to do with it...). While I know that I don't need a <em>salu lima</em>, or to raise my son in Salailua to show he is Samoan, a large part of me still longs to give him the childhood I had. Surrounded by warmth and beauty, family and faikakalas. I, like all parents, worry about whether we are making the right choices. I suppose at the end of the day, whether we are in Sydney or in Samoa, I just want to give him what my parents gave me- an unshakeable sense of self. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<em>*<em>Identity</em></em><br />
<em><em> </em>by Lemalu Tate Simi<br />
<em></em> <br />
<em>Educate yourself enough<br />So you may understand<br />The ways of other people<br />But not too much<br />That you may lose<br />Your understanding<br />Of your own</em><br />
<em>Try things palagi<br />Not so you may become palagi<br />But so may see the value<br />Of things Samoan<br />Learn to speak Samoan<br />not so you may sound Samoan<br />but so you may<br />feel the essence<br />of being Samoan</em><br />
<em>Above all<br />Be aware and proud<br />Of what you are<br />So you may spare yourself<br />The agony of those who are asking<br />“What am I ? “</em><br />
</em></div>
</div>
Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-57061869233805850042012-07-02T12:41:00.000-07:002012-07-03T14:21:20.051-07:00Sorry<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
About eight years ago I went to a<em> Peace and Reconcilliation</em> conference. It was hosted by a University in Queensland and this was obviously new territory. As you may have picked up from my blog, I am ALL about peace and recocilliation- they are topics near and dear to my heart. So I had answered a call to present a paper, although all these years later, I can't quite remember what I wrote that particular paper about.<br />
<br />
What I do remember was that they had invited delegates from different parts of the Pacific that had experienced recent conflict- Solomon Islands, Papua New Guinea, Fiji and Tonga. Having brought out these delegates, the organisers decided that it would be a fantastic idea to have a panel of Pacific delegates. As a Pacific Islander, and a person with a keen interest in Pacific history and politics, I was particularly interested in this session, although I didn't actually know what was being addressed, and the agenda item "Pacific panel" wasn't particularly enlightening.<br />
<br />
It was a year or two after the break down in law and order in the Solomon Islands, and the Regional Assistance Mission to the Solomon Islands (RAMSI) had obviously created curiosity and concern- the audience was packed. The lecture theatre was bursting with about 200 people as the Pacific delegates took the stage. A professor introduced the session explaining that the Pacific delegates had not been told what the question would be <strike>for maximum drama and effect</strike> so that the answers would not be practiced. The audience shuffled in anticipation. The professor pronounced the question with unseemly relish, "<em>You are all from countries who have experienced some conflict, but what we would like to hear from you today is, how do you think Australia and New Zealand have treated their indigineous populations?" </em><br />
<br />
There was silence. Even all these years later I can still see the flashes of discomfort on the Pacific pannellists' faces before they schooled their features. A microphone was thrust into the hands of the delegate on the far left, who politely thanked the professor for the question, and for having her as a guest, and then said she did not have an opinion before passing on the microphone. Each pannelist took a virtually identical stance, some elaborating that they did not know enough about the history of the country in which they were a guest to venture an opinion. The Professor looked somewhat desperate. It was obvious that he had been courting controversy and had hoped to create a lively debate. He started trying to prompt and was met with polite and very patient repetition of their stance. I was outraged at the complete and utter lack of any culural sensitivity. I could not believe that the organisers had put the pannellists in this position- it was obvious that each of these Pacific Islanders felt it would be the very height of rudeness, to criticise the country that was hosting their attendance. <br />
<br />
As I was not a guest, I did not feel so constrained. I had that morning read an article about "stolen wages". From the 1890s until the 1970s the Queensland Government "controlled" the wages and savings of Aboriginal Queenslanders and Torres Strait Islanders. While it was hard to fathom, in 2003 people had still not received the wages they earned. The article in the paper that day related to the fact that the Queensland government had set up a scheme, a one-time offer, where if you had your wages stolen and you were still alive, you could have a one-off payment of $2000 and relinquish any claim to your actual wages and any interest that may have accrued. I cried when I read that article. I had heard so many Australians claim that whatever happened in the past was the past, that they could not be held accountable for something that previous generations had done. But this was not ancient history, it was a continuing injustice, it was happening that day. People who had been deprived of a way to generate wealth, a way forward, people in abject poverty were not being given what was owed to them (over two decades after it was owed), they were told to take the $2000 and be grateful.<br />
<br />
So I stood up and said I was Samoan and also happened to be Australian <strike>by accident of birth</strike>, and that I had only moved to Australia a couple of years ago, and that neither of my parents were Australian. Regardless of the fact that it was not my ancestors that visited these atrocities on the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Island people, each one of us who live in Australia today benefit from the fact that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander land was taken from them, and each one of us should take responsibility for what was not a historical issue but a current and ongoing one. That while I had only arrived in Australia, I recognised that, I felt reparations should be given, and I wanted to say "sorry".<br />
<br />
In 2008 the Prime Minister of Australia said sorry too. It was a true example of a leader leading with his conscience and with courage. I include the full text of his apology here:<br />
<br />
"<em>Today we honour the indigenous peoples of this land, the oldest continuing cultures in human history.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>We reflect on their past mistreatment.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>We reflect in particular on the mistreatment of those who were stolen generations - this blemished chapter in our nation's history.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>The time has now come for the nation to turn a new page in Australia's history by righting the wrongs of the past and so moving forward with confidence to the future.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>We apologise for the laws and policies of successive parliaments and governments that have inflicted profound grief, suffering and loss on these our fellow Australians.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>We apologise especially for the removal of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children from their families, their communities and their country.</em><br />
<br />
<em>For the pain, suffering and hurt of these stolen generations, their descendants and for their families left behind, we say sorry.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>To the mothers and the fathers, the brothers and the sisters, for the breaking up of families and communities, we say sorry.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>And for the indignity and degradation thus inflicted on a proud people and a proud culture, we say sorry.</em><br />
<br />
<em>We the parliament of Australia respectfully request that this apology be received in the spirit in which it is offered as part of the healing of the nation.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>For the future we take heart; resolving that this new page in the history of our great continent can now be written.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>We today take this first step by acknowledging the past and laying claim to a future that embraces all Australians.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>A future where this parliament resolves that the injustices of the past must never, never happen again.</em><br />
<em>A future where we harness the determination of all Australians, indigenous and non-indigenous, to close the gap that lies between us in life expectancy, educational achievement and economic opportunity.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>A future where we embrace the possibility of new solutions to enduring problems where old approaches have failed.</em><br />
<br />
<em>A future based on mutual respect, mutual resolve and mutual responsibility.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>A future where all Australians, whatever their origins, are truly equal partners, with equal opportunities and with an equal stake in shaping the next chapter in the history of this great country, Australia.</em><br />
<em><br /></em><br />
<em>There comes a time in the history of nations when their peoples must become fully reconciled to their past if they are to go forward with confidence to embrace their future."</em><br />
<br />
This week is NAIDOC week in Australia. NAIDOC celebrations are held around Australia in July each year to celebrate the history, culture and achievements of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. This year's theme <em>"celebrates the champions who lived to renew the spirit of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples through the establishment of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy in 1972. Forty years ago, the embassy became a powerful symbol of unity. Its founders instilled pride, advanced equality and educated the country on the rights of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples. To move forward, we must acknowledge our forbearers, learn from their experiences and ask ourselves… what have their sacrifices meant for me and my family today?" </em> I honour the spririt of struggle and perseverence in the establishment and maintanence of the Aboriginal Tent Embassy- it plays a pivotal role in the Australia that I wish for me and my small family to be a part of, an Australia that acknowledges the indigenous people of this land, and treats them equally. This country has been a land of opportunity and reward for me and for millions of other non-indigenous Australians. It should be nothing less for the indigenous peoples.<br />
<br />
This post is a small tribute to the indigenous people of this country. "Sorry" is only the first step.<br />
<br /></div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-68090467074738018902012-07-02T11:35:00.000-07:002012-07-13T04:44:20.719-07:00Mamalu, modesty and the modern Samoan woman<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Most Samoan girls are brought up to dress modestly. I won't pretend that I was a paragon of this particular virtue. In fact, I'll go all out and say I am really not a paragon of ANY particular virtue at all. When I was visiting my family for Uni holidays, my dad would say in a sad and concerned voice "Darling, don't you have enough money?.... we can help you out.... obviously you didn't have enough to buy the rest of that skirt ". My brothers would alternatively tease me about my <em>vae ta'amu</em>, or tell me to go change or I <u>was not</u> exiting the house. I was pretty dutiful then, I'd just <strike>throw the offending article on the floor in a huff</strike> fold them away quietly, plotting to put it straight back on the moment my scholarship took me back to <strike>FREEEEDDDOOM</strike> Auckland. I know it's shocking! I should wear a scarlet letter! <br />
<br />
That said, even a rebel-without-a-pause, like 18-year-old me knew that one could not strut around the <em>nu'u</em> in short skirts or skimpy shorts, just as I knew you couldn't turn up to family <em>lotu</em> in the evening without covering your shoulders. Dusk would be falling and we'd hear the <em>dong, dong</em> of a metal pipe hitting a hollowed out rusted old iron tube, that may or may not have once been a fire extinguisher, and we'd all start the mad scramble, looking for big button up shirts or lavalavas, to drape around our shoulders like scarfs, concealing our singlets or the boys' bare chests, before sitting down, crossing our legs and joining the <em>pese</em> (and yes even my <em>pa'ulua </em>voice would be raised in praise). <br />
<br />
I can accept that there were, and are, expectations of modest dress in certain settings (whether or not you consider that those expectations to be traditional to Samoan culture is a seperate issue, and one which I have already addressed). Of course these expectations are not exclusive to Samoa. Whether backpacking around Europe, or sojourning in Central America, I've always made sure that I've either worn or carried a long skirt and a shawl in my day pack, so that I could enter churches and other holy places respectfully. Whether in Sydney, Suva or Sri Lanka, what I wear to work is conservative and in keeping with the country and culture I am in. So I don't think there is a need to skirt around the issue, rather than just saying directly that it seems that much of the recent furore around displaying the malu was, and is, actually about dressing modestly, and appropriate behaviour for a Samoan woman.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately it also seems that this was an inconvenient truth. After all, if a malu doesn't make one any more Samoan (a point I completely agree with), then having a malu should not bring one's behaviour as a Samoan woman under any additional scrutiny. We all know that"<em>tausi le mamalu</em>" isn't something we suddenly get taught when we come of age, or when we are about to go under the <em>'au,</em> it is something intrinsic in every Samoan girl's upbringing. If you're going to dictate others' dress standards, or if you're set on telling others how to behave in what you consider to be a culturally appropriate manner, then there is a certain expectation that your own behaviour and manner of dress will withstand similar scrutiny. Otherwise it's just "<em>Hello Kettle, my name is Pot, and I have noticed that you are rather black"</em>. <br />
<br />
That is also probably why most people don't start lectures on cultural proprierty with "<em>I was up in the club and...</em>". It's not normally seen as the most traditional or cultural of activities for a young Samoan lady. Don't get me wrong I am all for going out, I am just not for going out, and then getting up on your high horse. It is <u>so</u> 1950s to try and control the way another women dresses, but cite culture and we're all ok. We'll just tidy that pesky feminism away, it really is <u>so</u> unbecoming. Cite culture and noone is supposed to reflect on why some women seem so upset at seeing other's dressed in a way that emphasises they are at the height of their youth and beauty (or at the height of their foolishness). Either way it doesn't bother me. It's a long time since I was 18, and I'm self-aware enough to say that the only issue I have with hot pants, is that, despite the promising name, they do not in fact look hot on me! Oh the outrage! It's just so totally deceptive and misleading! I would threaten to sue (for the very first time ever in my life) except that I've heard that it may upset some insects! A similar amount of self-reflection for all those throwing stones would go a long way.</div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-24475134471762112422012-06-23T12:32:00.002-07:002012-07-03T14:36:24.648-07:00Is cyber-bullying the new Samoan way?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<br />
<span lang="EN-AU">The recent cacophony of criticism surrounding
a young lady who wrote a letter to the editor regarding the article ‘<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">My Culture, My Malu’</i>, titled “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Pride and Pain in my malu</i>’, caused me to
stop and consider. Not about how and
when the malu should be shown (which is what the debate was supposed to be
about), but rather about who we are as a society.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">This woman wrote to the paper under a
pseudonym, which is not at all unusual for writers to the Samoa Observer. The vitriolic and vicious comments that ensued
were explanation enough for why one may not wish to identify themselves. After
all, who wants to engage in “tit-for-tat” slanging matches on the world wide
web. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Leading the lynching was Sita Leota’s note
“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</i>”. Rather than discussing the issue at hand,
Sita launched into a scathing and personal attack about the writer’s identity
and their “Samoan-ness”. The crowd cheered,
and gleefully re-posted. Over half a thousand people pushed the like button to
show their support. The comments were all pride and back-patting about how they
LOVED how Sita had put that girl in her place.
It reminded me of nothing more than shameful school scenes of a bully
beating up on some smaller kid, surrounded by a circle of children baying for
blood. It was all “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">High-five! Did you see that hit! It was hilaaaaariooous</i>!”</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Now when I say “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it reminded me of</i>”, I should be clear. This is <u>not</u> something I ever saw growing
up, or going to school in Samoa, where this type of behaviour was not in any
way tolerated. It’s something I’ve only
ever seen on television. So I have
always believed that bullying was an anathema to Samoan society, something that
was shunned, something that even children knew they should not stoop to. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Apparently the advent of the internet and
social media has changed that. It’s so easy
to rip apart and ridicule others online.
It’s a whole new world where hypocrisy, internal contradictions and
lapses in logic are overlooked. Where it’s not about the strength of your
argument, but about how scornful and sarcastic you can be when you make it. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">Debates and differences of opinion are to
be expected and encouraged, they make life interesting. Personally I love them
enough to make my living out of them. What
we should not expect, what we should be completely intolerant of, is uncalled
for cruelty in that commentary. Whether
or not you agreed with Sita, every single one of the points in “<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo</i>” could
have been made without being malicious.
While I do not know who the writer of that letter is, I know that
whoever they are, they have feelings, and they have a family. Ask yourself if this is the way you would
like someone you loved to be treated, even if they publicly expressed an
opinion that you disagreed with. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-AU">I have no doubt that writing this will
re-focus ire and indignation on me. I
don’t generally engage in this sort of discussion, preferring to be positive,
but I believe in the courage of my convictions, and probably more importantly,
I believe that I was raised in a culture where we don’t sit idly by and ignore,
or worse applaud, an ignominious attack. So I am saying something and, since from what I have seen we are acting
like we are in our own personal version of the movie ‘Mean Girls’, let me use
that type of language, anyone who wants to say anything to me or about me can-“<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Bring it!</i>”
Paradoxically, you will only be proving my point.</span></div>
</div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-54884321362203243562012-06-19T09:04:00.000-07:002012-07-04T01:07:00.477-07:00My Culture, My Malu- a reply<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZS_geyCWX4UyD9qGstZ13q1-y9KeK9KV2TiL8jboSY20Kx0CL9tq28rMMbLLeveiivAJU7TkqafUCs_9kvGz-usqj2NcnUL8XOyonrk3XpBbqbyzryH-KDCLoBFg1nNHc9B1xkp-nger/s1600/au.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0ZS_geyCWX4UyD9qGstZ13q1-y9KeK9KV2TiL8jboSY20Kx0CL9tq28rMMbLLeveiivAJU7TkqafUCs_9kvGz-usqj2NcnUL8XOyonrk3XpBbqbyzryH-KDCLoBFg1nNHc9B1xkp-nger/s320/au.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have a malu. An<i> 'au</i> has bitten my skin and indelible black marks remain to tell the tale. I don't hide this. In fact, on any given day in Sydney, you can see a Samoan woman heading into work in a conservative grey suit, and you may not look twice or notice the <i>vae'ali</i> , which crawl down below the back of her knees, signifying her service, both past and future, her <i>tautua,</i> and symbolising that it is on this service of the untitled- the <i>aualuma</i> and the <i>aumag</i>a, that the <i>matai</i> rest.<br />
<br />
So while I was not in Samoa for the recent 50th Independence celebrations, when I recently read a <a href="http://www.facebook.com/?ref=tn_tnmn#%21/notes/sita-leota/my-culture-my-malu/10150898165660967">well written article</a> by Sita Leota, in the <i>Samoa Observer, 17 June 2012</i>, which shared her opinion about when, and how, one should display the malu, I felt compelled to reply.<br />
<br />
Albert Wendt writes beautifully and I love <a href="http://findarticles.com/p/articles/mi_m1310/is_1986_May-June/ai_4375021/">his line</a> "<i>There are no 'true interpreters' or 'sacred guardians' of any culture. We are all entitled to our truths, insights, intuitions into and interpretations of our cultures</i>." I don't deny Sita, nor any of the other Samoans who are/were in furious agreement, the right to interpret our culture. I do however, take serious issue with the imposition of that interpretation on others.<br />
<br />
The article sets out "<i>when you are tattooed as a female, the first rule has always been that you don't display your malu in public unless you are in full traditional Samoan wear about to dance the siva Samoa or in a ta'alolo</i>." Is that really what the first rule has always been?<br />
<br />
The truth is that the art of tatau was almost lost to colonisation and to Christianity. The missionaries were not overly fond of tatau. Whether it was because they literally interpreted Leviticus, because they saw this cultural practice as possible pagan competition, or simply because they saw it as "<i>the mark of the savage</i>", tattooing was so successfully discouraged throughout the Pacific, that of all our Polynesian brothers and sisters, only Samoa managed to maintain this "<i>mea sina</i>". Even today there are <a href="http://www.savalinews.com/2011/03/23/malagamalii-urges-more-acceptance-of-tatau-from-churches/">calls</a> for the churches to be more accepting of tatau. <br />
<br />
Not so coincidentally, colonisation and Christianity also had a major impact on our clothing or lack thereof. Now I like the <i>mu'umu'u</i> as much as the next woman, who has experienced the sauna that Samoa can be, they're lovely and cool, and they cover a multitude of sins <s> and possibility for sinning, which, of course, was the idea.</s> That said, they are a reflection of just how the church viewed women and their bodies (or more accurately, how they didn't want people to view women's bodies).<br />
<br />
Sita quotes Albert Wendt when entreating and exhorting those of us who have malu to "<i>protect it, shade it, cover it</i>". Somewhat ironically, it is the eminent Professor Wendt who sets out in the same <a href="http://www.nzepc.auckland.ac.nz/authors/wendt/tatauing.asp">article</a> that "<i>Being clothed (lavalava) had little to do with clothes or laei. In pre-Papalagi times, to wear nothing above the navel was not considered 'nakedness.' To 'clothe' one's arse and genitals was enough</i>." <br />
<br />
Isn't it likely that the church's traditional position on tattooing, on women, and on covering up, has something to do with the compulsion to (or more accurately in the case of this article), to tell others to cover the malu? It may be that traditionally women covered to below the knee before they went under the 'au, and indeed, many contend that was the reason for the malu - to clothe. The fact that women show malu when they are "<i>in full traditional Samoan wear about to dance the siva Samoa or in a ta'alolo</i>", i.e. in our most traditional of activities, reflects that women traditionally <u>showed</u> their malu, that "<i>the malu for women ...[was] considered 'clothing,' the most desired and highest-status clothing anyone could wear." (Tatauing the post-colonial body; Albert Wendt)</i><br />
<br />
I'm proud of the fact that our culture is a living, breathing culture. I accept it adapts and adopts. Obviously Christianity is an important part of our culture - <i>Fa'avae i le Atua Samoa</i>. So I can accept an argument that our culture changed with Christianity to incorporate covering the malu. In a living and breathing culture, things change. But if it did change then, can't it change now? Can't Samoan women display their malu now, as their ancestors did, without being subject to an opinion piece? <br />
<br />
Sita takes umbridge with what she considers is using the malu as a "<i>fashion accessory</i>". Again Wendt insightfully says, "<i>much of what has been considered 'decoration' or 'adornment' by outsiders is to do with identity (individual/aiga/group), status, age, religious beliefs, relationships to other art forms and the community, and not to do with prettying yourself</i>." It may be that one does not agree with displaying the malu, it is another thing altogether to say that just because one displays the malu, they don't do it out of "<i>any sense of belonging, of culture, of being Samoan</i>" as Sita asserts. <br />
<br />
Sita writes that the definition of malu is ‘<i>to be protected</i>'. But it can also mean "<i>to protect</i>". As Zita Sefo-Martel puts it "<i>The woman is therefore seen in Samoan culture as the protector of the children, the family, and the village. She is the giver of bloodlines." </i>I am a strong Samoan woman. I have a malu and I can protect what is mine - my malu, and my culture. I do not need an article in the Samoa Observer to guide me, to tell me when and how, I can display my malu, and I very much doubt, any other Samoan woman does either.<br />
<br />
<i>O le malu o le laei o tamaitai Samoa. </i></div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com41tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-37595291968876581452012-06-13T06:11:00.001-07:002012-06-24T05:41:32.148-07:00Ua leva leva aso<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Hello Samoan Sydney siders, fellow faikakalas and fans (one likes to be optimistic about these things)<br />
<br />
Ua leva leva aso<br />
<br />
It's been a long long long time .... you may or may not recall that the last time that I posted it was all about my New Year's resolution to blog more... and it is now June. This definitively proves the correlation between my New Year's resolution and inaction. Once I have resolved to do something at New Year, the stars pretty much align to make sure it's never ever ever going to happen. Which explains why I have never been able to exercise... obviously it's not laziness.... it's a cosmic conspiracy! That's my story and I'm sticking to it.<br />
<br />
But what have I been up to, you ask, dear reader.... well now that would be telling... which after all is what a blog is all about so here's the highlights <br />
<br />
1) I have been planning parties. I should leave it there for you all to wonder at my glamour and mystique without confessing that one of those parties was to celebrate my munchkin turning one (with all the glamour, smeared chocolate cake and crazy ball pit action that implies), and it remains the highlight of my social life (though it was 4 months ago)...<br />
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2) I have been hard at work, and it is now official, that being official saps away my <s>will to live</s> creativity. Though I make fun of it, tell you all that I console myself with <s>cream dougnuts</s> pep talks about being productive <s> and pay slips</s> the truth is that I am secretly (or not so secretly) one of those geeky people who actually loves their jobs <s> at least this week </s>. Even though it takes me away from my darling bub a bit too often. Since my last blog from Langkawi, the job has taken me back to Kuala Lumpur, to Jakarta and to Suva.<br />
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3) I took a holiday (or as much of a holiday one can have with a very much loved <s> and very used to being the centre of attention</s> 1 year old) and went to New Zealand to reunite and reignite with the love of my life. I was ready to dance and be romanced. Ae faimai foi si a'u toalua ua uma ga aso..... ummmm helllloooo.... we're not even married yet! Ouuuutttrrraaeegeeeouusss!!!! <br />
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4) I celebrated Independence in style, even though I wasn't in Samoa, with a few drinks with some fellow FOBs. It was fabulous to meet up with old friends and old school mates. We braved the cold and crowds at the Opera Bar, and sipped champagne, and hummed UB40 (or maybe that last part was just me!)<br />
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5) I've luxuriated in my own little luxuries... other women might like manicures or make-overs....my own indulgence is books. Reading remains my refuge- a place I can escape to, and there's nothing I love better than curling up with my darling bub sleeping sweetly next to me and a great book. Here's some which rate a special mention<br />
<i>The Snow Child</i> by Eowyn Ivey- a magical story about a couple homesteading in Alaska in the 1920s<br />
<i>The Light between Oceans</i> by M.L Stedman- a story about longing and morality based in Perth<br />
<i>Behind the Beautiful Forevers</i> by Katherine Boo- a narrative nonfiction that relates the realities of a Mumbai slum<br />
<br />
And speaking of books... I was prompted/ inspired to get back on this blog by seeing that the amazing <a href="http://www.sleeplessinsamoa.blogspot.com/">Lani Wendt Young </a>had released her second book. I don't know how she manages it all, with 5 kids (because I am barely getting by with my one little one), but I am in awe. I have only read tantalising tidbits ... but I can't wait to read the second book in the Telesa series. The print version of <a href="http://ow.ly/bvRSE">;"When Water Burns"</a> is now available for worldwide purchase from Amazon. <br />
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<br /></div>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-50916893219957950432012-01-10T20:40:00.000-08:002012-01-10T22:19:08.235-08:00Back on the band wagonSo when I fall off the band wagon, I really fall off the band wagon! On my ass! Luckily I've got so much cushioning back there! <br /><br />Of course I have a lot of good excuses. I have had to work (I would add "my ass off" at the end of that session but as you may have picked up from my previous statement, the level of my hard work doesn't ever result in reducing my rather sizeable behind resulting in the svelte new figure that I so obviously deserve!!!!... *sniff, sniff* poor me). I have been on the road- cause Mama is a rolling stone. Since the last post (several months ago) I have been to New Zealand (twice), Niue, Korea and am currently joining you, dear friends from Langkawi, Malaysia. The other issue is that apart from complaining about the amount of travel I do, and the amount of work I have on, I clearly can't rant about work <s>which has been taking over my whole life </s> because I'm just professional like that. I ALSO have a very active baby boy who loves to wrestle his mummy into submission, or crawl determinedly off to whatever looks the most dangerous or forbidden thing in any room. The love of my life's daddy is more often out of the country than in it, conveniently being absent for said wrestling activities (which I highly suspect he taught Lagi in the first place) or to save our darling from chomping on electric cords or toppling the television on top of himself. Yes I have excuses!!! But I have missed the blogging. I have missed having a regular outlet, a way to de-stress, I have missed looking at the computer and smiling, I have missed the interaction with other crazy bloggers balancing their own crazy lives but still managing to write!!<br /><br />So here I am, stealing a moment to say Happy 2012 (11 days later). I'm not sure about the whole New Years resolution thing. It seems to require... well... resolution ie. a determination to do something. The only thing I'm determined to do after getting through each day, is curl up with my baby and attempt to get some sleep! Still I would like to find more time to blog and to do more things outside of work, so I have something interesting to actually blog about. Stay tuned...Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-62618698732994320572011-10-03T04:20:00.000-07:002011-10-06T03:17:20.206-07:00Simone in the city<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2HIN9FltQTcY0Vg7EEuXoK2Cx0mo6gWwtlu5jwVFHnZPu0o0WeXshZ61bo7HxucY0abMc_txdu5wifeNXE3pU-mhQwGWsc2AT2OvgKrDr94cDX-5Otw4Zv1UnAsUDvP5hwfFbYDPjuzAD/s1600/Mardi_Gras_Sydney_2009_Philippines.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659237019747945250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2HIN9FltQTcY0Vg7EEuXoK2Cx0mo6gWwtlu5jwVFHnZPu0o0WeXshZ61bo7HxucY0abMc_txdu5wifeNXE3pU-mhQwGWsc2AT2OvgKrDr94cDX-5Otw4Zv1UnAsUDvP5hwfFbYDPjuzAD/s320/Mardi_Gras_Sydney_2009_Philippines.JPG" /></a> Some of the 'lovely ladies" at Mardi Gras<br /><br />Well as you all know Sydney is the centre of all fabulousness. And it celebrates the said fabulousness each year with Mardi Gras, a gay pride event that originated out of the police trying to shut down the parade in 1978. In general, if you ever try to tell Aussies they can't do something, this irreverant bunch will turn up in numbers to show that they can. I love that attitude. Speaking of attitudes I loved and fabulousness- for those of you who have yet to have the plearsure, let me introduce you to Lani Wendt-Young's character in her recently published Young Adult Fiction Book- '<strong><em>Telesa</em></strong>'- the one and only 'Simone'.<br /><br /><em>"...he strutted along the corridor with all the studied ease of a runway model, stopping often to greet passersby.<br />"Daahling, how was your weekend? No way! Was he there? Ohmigosh, you're kidding. I hate you! Tell me all about it at lunch. Oh, girlfriend wait up. how was your Friday night. I heard about the V-Bar hmmm, you wicked girl! I know I was busy at home with our faalavelave and doing all the chores going crazy I couldn't get out. See you later! Yoohoo daaahling!"<br />Like the Queen of England ackowledging her humble courtiers...."</em><br /><br />There is no doubt in my mind, that Simone would love Sydney, and Sydney would love Simone- they both have that 'joie de vivre'. So I am very excited to host Telesa's author <a href="http://www.sleeplessinsamoa.blogspot.com">Lani Wendt-Young </a>on this blog to delve into Ms Simone.<br /><br /><strong>Lani Wendt-Young</strong>: Thanks for having me on your blog Sisilia. I haven’t come here solo today – with me is TELESA reader Tim Baice who’s studying at Auckland University. i had this idea of getting a fafafine to give me their feedback on Simone. Tim is way more knowledgeable about the world that the character of Simone has grown up in and I’ve asked him to share his (vivacious and fiery) thoughts on Simone and on the portrayal of fafafine in Pacific fiction….<br /><br /><strong>Simone and the ‘Third Gender’ - “You took a page out of one of our diaries.”<br /><br /></strong>Si-mone has a natural appeal, especially in the way in which you have introduced him in the novel. We as the readers see through Leila's eyes as she is slowly making sense of her surroundings so people who lack experience with Fa'afafige are generally introduced to one - food for thought for people I guess - a really delicious tactic which I find you use in the book a lot - leave people hanging for more. I like how Uncle Tuala's description of Fa'afafige “a boy who is like a girl” just touches the surface, without trying too much to put them into a certain category – it represents a wide view.<br /><br />I really like Simone's character because there isn't a lot of Pacific fiction published by/for/about Pacific people and I feel that what is missing in the literature are the stories of the third gender - fa'afafine - and if they are mentioned it’s normally just to highlight everything that is apparently "wrong with society" – a deficit lens approaches. I really like how you've written Simone in just to be a natural part of Samoa College, you've normalized it and haven't really made his/her inclusion an issue. I also really liked how Leila conceived of and articulated Simone's character - through her hand movements, the way she spoke, the things she talked about, the natural make up, the lip gloss and did so in a way the clearly painted an image but did not taint Simone's character - I really liked how there was no judgement there - not that you would blame Leila for doing so.<br /><br />Si-mone reminds me of so many of my mala friends here in NZ, but especially the ones in Samoa and they're the ones that tend to not have their voices heard in stories (this is so predominant in Pacific Research especially research around Pacific youth). The beautiful thing about Telesa is that everyone that reads it is able to take away from it something different according to experiences/tastes/beliefs and the inclusion of Simone is like an acknowledgment of fa'afafines and their role in Samoan society. A lot of people would be able to relate to Si-Mone which is one of the key reasons why I think Simone's character is important. Plus Simone just adds a level of flare that Sinalei or any other back up's aren't able to LOL. (Sorry to all the Sinalei's out there). Simone’s eccentric character is a nice distraction from the pain we all feel (when Daniel puts his shirt back on) or as Leila tries to control her passion for Daniel. The fast talking mouth, the hand gestures, the makeup, the trying to be prettier than everyone else classic classic classic loved it!<br /><br />Simone is a classic character. The mala at school that befriends and gossips with all the girls, that knows everyone’s business, and is only after the hottest guys at school! Let's not forget the person who does everything to stand out in any way possible especially in relation to the other girls around her. Simone is a loveable character, and I like how he took on a nurturing role to Leila. This was very true to life. A lot of girls gravitate towards fa’afafiges in schools because they say it straight, and I’ve experienced it myself at Uni in terms of fa’afafige being older sisters to younger and inexperienced girls. You could see this in the way Simone fussed over Leila's taupou outfit and then turned out to be best buddies with Aunty Matile - such a realistic character! That's why reading this book had me cracking up because it was like you took a page out of one of our diaries and wrote a character about it (no not the pages about Daniel, and how his shorts sat precariously low on his hips, NOO those pages were private) LOL. So yes it was really easy to connect and appreciate Simone. It was also very realistic to read about Simone's issues with some of the other guys (Daniel having to protect Simone from bullying), which you know is common with fa'afafige so Simone wasn't this glorified ‘Aunty’, he was a real fa'afafige who had endured the same issues most of us do in life.<br /><br />I also really liked and could easily relate to Simone's caring disposition towards Daniel. How Simone was so protective of Daniel given their history but also at the same time making known his personal feelings of affection towards Daniel. This tension played out quite nicely and seemed so natural. I almost feel like as Simone constantly questions Leila's relationship status with Daniel, his declaration of support for her as taupou accompanying Daniel's solo is part of this, “I'm in love with him but there is nothing I can do, can only dream of it, because the imperfect society we live in, a relationship between he and I could never work kind of thing, so I’m stuck with going along with whatever makes him happy and clearly it’s this magu Leila” LOL.<br />In summary, Simone's character gives great insight into the role of fa'afige in Samoa. My one suggestion would be that it would have been great to see some fa'afafige lingo in the mix, einjo, nupi, maja, neite, just to add a bit more spice and make her/him that much more real. All part of the "reals" diet.<br /><br />(You’ll note I used he/she interchangeably. Sometimes when you get this wrong when meeting a Fa’afafige, you can be in trouble! )<br /><br />From one Daniel lover to another.<br /><br />Huge Fan.<br /><br />Tim.<br /><br />Thank you Tim. Love your thoughts on Simone and will definitely be taking on your suggestion of fafafine lingo in Book 2. Can I get some lingo tutorials from you pleeease!?<br /><br /><strong>Telesa:The Covenant Keeper is now avail. from Sleepless in Samoa and from Amazon.<br />EBook - $5.99 Print Book - $14.95.</strong><br /><blockquote></blockquote>Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1416396502115621857.post-26933201215201451462011-10-01T00:46:00.000-07:002011-10-01T06:43:27.612-07:00Perspective<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAp6gln2auoGbN6FUTRifsfAmIL0tcAMhuK3O34FnC0319Jdtf2LmzvMUZmYGHsIYSIBYl9N60mlEpTNACUgVTYRe3vrxfl3ZUORIVIerodL4syfxA5jUNNPbwfjE_TCkCIGWWf5NyQet/s1600/PA012930.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5658497329805692226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyAp6gln2auoGbN6FUTRifsfAmIL0tcAMhuK3O34FnC0319Jdtf2LmzvMUZmYGHsIYSIBYl9N60mlEpTNACUgVTYRe3vrxfl3ZUORIVIerodL4syfxA5jUNNPbwfjE_TCkCIGWWf5NyQet/s320/PA012930.JPG" /></a><br />So what has brought me back to blogging after such a long hiatus? Well I have VERY IMPORTANT news. I have something I MUST share with the ENTIRE world. I am sure you are all thinking, it's that bloody Welsh ref, she's going to get stuck-in, like every other Samoan in the world. I'll get round to that. First things first. It's important to focus here, and feel the full import of the news I am about to impart. Here it is... On friday I fit in to my pre-Lagi jeans !!!! And when I say fit into I mean that <s>I felt like I was being cut in half and that I was cutting off circulation to my rolls </s>the button AND zip does up!!! Yes all the way!!! I felt like Obama one the eve of his inauguration- YES we can!!!! I was like "I am wearing these bad boys into work, they may never come off" (and not just because, literally, I may not be able to get the bloody things off). Now I may have to claim some responsibility for the Manu Samoa losing, because obviously there weren't going to be two major miracles in the day.<br /><br />And when I say miracle- I'm not in any way taking anything from our boys. They were AWESOME! Just saying that when you are in the pool being referred to as 'the pool of death', you know that getting through it may be just a little difficult. As to the referee, well to be honest I feel a little sorry for him <s>because it really is not healthy to have THAT many Samoans stalking you</s>. He was in an untenable position. No matter how he reffed, there was no way he could be seen as unbiased, when the result of the game directly affected whether the country he was from went through to the quarter finals. IRB should be facing some serious questions. But who is going to be holding them to account? The Manu Samoa played heartbreakingly well. It was rugby at its very best. The way those boys played <strong>calls</strong> for answers. So I suppose the big question is will the Samoan Rugby Union ask them <s>because after all booking accomodation can't be their only expertise</s>??? I am sure that it's all very complicated and I don't understand the politics etc, but, I can't believe that the All Blacks or the Wallabies, or indeed South Africa would ever have been put in that position. I also can't believe, that if they were, they wouldn't have said anything PRIOR to the game.<br /><br />Still, I am so grateful, that the biggest gripe we Samoans have is the IRB. Today I was in Hyde park, eating macaroons to console myself (and it was working- that's the power of sugar) when we heard some chanting. The Warriors are playing in the NRL Grand Final in Sydney on Sunday, so we hurried over in case it was a flash haka. You know how they are all the rage right now. It wasn't the haka, it was Hazaras. Hazaras are a Shia Muslim ethnic group that, according to <a href="http://www.hrw.org/">Human Rights Watch</a>, have been the target of previous massacres and other serious human rights violations by Taliban forces. There were mothers with prams, children holding their father's hands, young men with funky shades and tight shirts, and grandparents. They had all come out on a Saturday in Sydney, because for them racism means more than rugby.<br /><br />So that gave me some serious perspective. Which is why, of course, I am blogging about the big issues <s>like my butt</s>. Did I mention, I fit in to my pre-Lagi jeans?Teine Samoahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17653306719516754776noreply@blogger.com3