American Samoa

Easter holiday in Polynesia. Did I mention just how Christian these places are? Everything shuts down from the beginning of Good Friday until Tuesday morning. I am already down to eating Timtams and peanut butter, which is actually damn good. Plus, I got to put on a skirt and wear it to church this morning, which will please both my mother and my deadhead friends, two categories rarely pleased about the same things. So Easter ain't all bad. It also gives me time to catch up with my blogging and other crucial matters, like a nap.

Spent a couple of days in American Samoa. Had planned on a week but when my transport to Ofu island failed, the trip was shortened. Ofu is supposed to be the most beautiful island in the Pacific, and is nearly impossible to get to. After the FAA shut down the one airline going, only the Governor's plane made the trip, a couple of times per week. I called and pulled the 'researcher' card to get a seat. However, this plane melted its landing gear trying to abort a takeoff on the extremely short strips in the Manu'a islands. So Ofu will have to wait.

The main island of American Samoa, Tutuila, was my home for a couple of days. I suspect most Americans do not have a clue this place exists, much less is part of the States. Kind of like Oklahoma. A relic of the era of expansion in the Pacific, this part of Samoa is still US territory mainly because the locals see no good reason for independence. Lots of funding comes in from Washington, and while the locals can't vote in national elections they also don't have to pay federal taxes. This is a trade-off I suspect many mainlanders would accept.

A bit of history here. In the late 1800's Britain was still expanding its empire, the US Navy was looking for coaling stations and the Germans were dealing with their empire envy by trying to swallow up anything not already Red or Blue on the map. Britain and Germany had interests in Tonga, while all three were eyeballing Samoa. In 1889 a force of three German warships began supporting their favored candidate for the king's role via artillery bombardments of coastal villages. In doing so they destroyed some American property, so the Americans retaliated by bombarding other Samoan villages. Not being particularly satisfying bombardments (the Samoan fales just tended to collapse instead of producing those really neat smoke clouds you get when you blow the shit out of masonry), the three American warships and the three German warships steamed into Apia harbor and prepared to start a war. Over Samoa. That's right, the US and Germany very nearly fought a war in 1889 over Samoa (betcha also didn't know that we invaded Korea in 1871, or Sumatra twice in the 1800's, did you? Yay for history!). The one British warship present was not as distracted and decided to check the weather rather than grease its guns. Noticing a cyclone approaching, it quite reasonably left the harbor, and was the only ship not totally destroyed by the storm. After the death of 148 sailors and the loss of all six ships, the major combatants sat down and decided not to start WW I early over some relatively minor land in the Pacific. They did continue to fund and arm various factions, however, until 1899 when Germany agreed to give up claims to parts of Tonga and several other island chains to Britain, and to give the US the excellent harbor of Pago Pago and all islands east of this, in exchange for keeping the majority of Tongan land and population in the two islands of Upolu and Savai'i.

I am in American Samoa because it was the only place on the globe that managed to impose an effective quarantine against the 1918 flu, and thus the only place without fatalities. By contrast, independent Samoa had the world's highest known death rate from the same infection, at 26% of the population. This contrast is what I am here to investigate.

There are about 60,000 people here. The vast majority of them live on the main island, with a few thousand on the small Manu'a islands. These include Ofu, Olosega, and Ta'u.

A brief note on punctuation. In most Polynesian languages 'g' represents a truncated 'ng' sound, the 'n' part being a bit shortened. In Fijian the 'q' represents the same phoneme. Correctly pronounced, Pago Pago sounds more like 'Pungo Pungo' than 'Paygo Paygo'. And now you know. Because knowing is half the battle.


Flew into Pago Pago on a puddle jumper out of Apia. Perhaps the most beautiful airport I have ever seen. The terminal itself was not much to mention, although the fact that it was showing a completely uncut copy of one of the 'Leprechaun' films on all monitors was a bit discordant. The surrounding country, however, was stunning.


This place is all cliffs. Mountains climb straight up from the waters, and the terrain is defined by edges. There is little flat land, and thus little agriculture. The population subsists on imported food for the most part, including American fast food. One of the nicest parts of Tonga was the complete absence of any fast food chains anywhere in the country. Not so here. Carl's Jr. is considered high cuisine, and the health of the population reflects this. The local diet seems to be an unholy combination of the worst of Polynesia (canned corned beef, lamb flaps) with the worst of the US (fast food, soda, chips). The pigs omnipresent in Tonga have been eliminated here due to environmental concerns, so even the pork is imported. Samoans of all nationalities have some of the highest obesity and diabetes rates in the world.

This particular Carl's Jr. also had a bit of Polynesian flavor to its drive through. Folks here tend to bury relatives above-ground in large, concrete memorials. These take up a significant amount of space, and reflect the wealth of the family involved. They are seen in many yards and parks. Apparently there was one in place on the land purchased for this outlet because to use the drive through you have to dodge the mausoleum. Eternity guarding a fast-food driveway, probably not what grandpa had in mind.


Did I mention that this place is beautiful? A mass of black volcanic rock spilling into blue-green waters, it is one of the prettiest places I have ever seen in the States.


This beast was for sale in Pago Pago. The amount of pure class involved in driving a 70's hearse around an island paradise.....


The fact that what little flat land is available clusters around harbors proved to be a liability following the earthquake and tsunami of late last year. American Samoa was hit hard. Most of the dockside businesses in Pago Pago were wiped out, along with multiple villages. The damage was visible throughout the coastal areas of the island, with various iterations of FEMA tents still housing much of the population. The Lonely Planet guide, just published last year, is totally useless as most businesses listed have been washed away. The US government is trying to help repair the damage.

That said, the money coming in seems to go in directions perhaps not envisioned. there are more new, huge, American-style trucks here than any place I have ever lived, including Alaska. They are everywhere, and seem to be the main source of transport. These are $40,000 Tundras that clog the roads. Sources tell me that many folks have chosen to rebuild to a lesser quality than their former homes, while spending the FEMA check on a truck for an island with perhaps 120 miles of road in total.


Of course, corruption is not limited to householders. The governor was recently allocated funding to buy a ferry to the Manu'a islands, since the planes are no longer flying. Instead of buying a passenger ferry he spent 1.6 million buying a yacht his friend in New Zealand had been unsuccessfully trying to sell. It takes 6-8 people. This is the theoretical new ferry for the poorest area in the US. On a smaller scale a grant was secured to build a practice court for local school basketball teams. It has not yet been built as the the official in charge is insisting it be built in his backyard. Not in his neighborhood, in his literal backyard.

Sports are huge here. Not only is the NFL recruiting grade schoolers, school rivalries are at times extreme. Victorious teams are regularly attacked in their buses by stone throwers as they pass through intersections. Fights are common. The Polynesian warrior tradition combined with good old American sports-focused sociopathy makes for interesting Friday nights. Like to see British football hooligans try to survive here, the 12 year-olds could thrash them.

But, it sure is pretty.


Despite the beauty there are very few tourists. In part this is because American Samoa is just as expensive as the mainland, if not slightly more so. A tourist can spend their time much more frugally in Fiji or particularly Tonga. In addition, the feel of the place is a weird mix of American and Polynesian. There are touches around town, such as forged drain-covers and posted rules regarding seat belts, that remind a visitor of this mixed heritage. As much Duluth as Apia. The roads crowded with new trucks, the American chain stores, all of this fights with the relative poverty and traditionalism of the majority of the population.

Tradition thrives in the villages. Sa are evening prayers, noted by whacking a suspended, empty oxygen tank with a stick at 6 pm. Another whack a few minutes later indicates that all activity must stop. No walking, jogging, playing, working, or any activities aside from driving the main roads is allowed, and palagi joggers oblivious due to their headphones have been very unpleasantly reminded of the need for cultural awareness. Most of the family stays inside for prayers, but the house-holding male will come out to his property line wearing the lavalava of his village and stand until the tank is whacked again about 6:20. Then activity resumes.

It is clear that American Samoans are generally wealthier than most other Pacific Islanders, but it is not clear why. Most jobs were provided by two huge tuna canneries, one of whom has recently closed and the other of which is considering the same. The islands produce more NFL players per capita than anywhere else in the US, by a huge margin. Some of this money comes home. The military is also very significant here, with recruiting posters and tributes to those serving throughout the island. Many of the residents, however, are on welfare. Unemployment is rampant, there is no real incentive to get work, and not enough work to go around.

There are some tourist spots nonetheless. I spent an hour discussing tattoos with an Aussie named Candyman who was tending bar at Tisa's, right on the beach. He showed me his traditional, and excruciating, Samoan tattoo, which stretches in an intricate pattern from his navel to his knees and includes his backside, mons pubis, and inner thighs. This tattooing is done using tools hand carved from wild boar tusks and a stick to whack them with. His tattoo took over 100 hours, spaced throughout 15 days, followed by several weeks recovery.

It is a beautiful tattoo (here is an example of the style: http://www.creativetattooreviews.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/07/Traditional_Samoan_Tattoo_-_back.jpg) I wonder how one of those would look under a kilt.......



The highlands are covered in flowers, flying foxes, and waterfalls. There is a village named Alaska (unofficially) as well. Not sure if it is named for its relative low temperature (it is the highest village on the island) or for all the Samoans that live in AK.



A great example of the American influence here. This road was a rutted, beat-to-hell stretch of one lane gutbuster all the way down the mountain, until it hit the spot where the tsunami washed it out. Then, since it was rebuilt by federal money, it turned into this beautiful, two lane, well anchored, piece of Utah freeway. For about 7o feet. then it turned back into Polynesia.




Perhaps the best part of AmSam was the folks who put me up. I had been speaking with Kate on Couchsurfing, and she hosted me the first night along with her two roomies. All these folks are teacher volunteers, doing a rough job with little support in a place that is not always welcoming. Being a teacher in any circumstances is rough, but this reminds me of the trials of teachers in the Alaskan bush, except they volunteer their time. Fantastic folks, and she introduced me to a whole crew of them. The next night we went to the home of Taylor and Scott, a young couple working for an NGO in Pago Pago. The picture below is of their backyard. Absolutely gorgeous place and very kind folks, they hosted myself and three teachers that night. Thanks, all.

The next morning they were all headed to a friend's place on the islet of Ta'u, and they tried to bring me along. While the flight wasn't available (I suspect they arrived without luggage, as a matter of fact), it is nice to be welcomed so completely and so quickly. Next time, folks. Or maybe in a place with a more amenable climate. Nome, perchance?

My flight to Apia was a reminder of just how funky Polynesia can be. In front of me sat a 60+ year old Aussie Karl Rove look-a-like sucking face with what seemed to be an 18 year old Samoan girl. Considering the number of large Samoan men in the plane, that took balls of brass to match his depraved soul. Next to him up front was a nearly 7 foot tall fa'afafine (third gender). Like the rest of this place, very different, and very beautiful. Also, completely capable of breaking you if you fail to keep your wits about you. Life is good.