… to Pago Pago, American Samoa …

… a small town of 4000 residents, home to the American governor of Samoa. W. Somerset Maugham stayed in Pago Pago during a measles epidemic, inspiring his short story “Rain.” The Samoan way or fa’asamoa pervades life on the island. Every family has a chief; each village is governed by 5 or 6 chiefs who set the rules for the community and must construct buildings called “guest houses” with floors and roofs, but only columns for walls. These structures are used for ceremonial purposes like weddings and birthdays, but guests cannot eat in them.

   

Families typically bury family members in tombs in front of their homes, although this practice is fading as church cemeteries become more commonplace.

Because we were there on a Sunday morning, almost all residents except the tour guides and bus drivers were at church; there are more than 60 churches on the island. They are beautifully painted, and represent various religions, including Catholic, Mormon, Baptist, Seventh Day Adventist, Methodist and Episcopalian.

   

On Sundays, most men wear the traditional lavalava, basically a wrap-around cotton skirt for men – with handy pockets! Frank wore his lavalava to dinner and found it very comfortable – and cool! The island is a strict place – a bell is rung at 6 pm and everyone must go indoors for a half hour of prayers. If you’re walking through town at that time, you must sit down and wait for prayers to be over. You can’t walk while eating or drinking – you must be seated. And if you enter a Samoan home, you must be seated (on the floor), and either cross your legs or cover them with a mat. Clothing must also be modest, even when swimming. The bell is rung at 9 pm for curfew. So much for my image of a jolly, laid-back society! 

The island is surrounded by a sharp coral reef, which protects it from sharks, but poses its own hazards for swimmers. We didn’t get to swim because swimming and most other activities are prohibited on Sundays.

Samoa is steeped in legends and myths. One concerns a mother and daughter whose family wouldn’t feed them. They plunged into the sea and became the turtle and the shark. You can see them at one beach on the island but it was not accessible because it was Sunday. Another story concerns two relatives who wanted to get married. When they were driven from their home, they fled in a canoe which overturned and they became the flowerpot islands, below.

   

The island is known for its longboats, traditionally propelled by groups of burly Samoan men. Its tour buses are also distinctive.

   

Our tour bus took the only road around the island, which unfortunately only goes part-way, so we had to return by the same route. There are McDonald’s and Carl’s Jrs. in Samoa, but few other chain stores. As the bus pulled up to the pier, the skies opened and a torrential rain began. Because we were soaked, we continued on to the craft flea market by the ship, and found some lovely and inexpensive hand-crafted items. There were no Tahitian pearls to be found. Back on the ship the sun came out - and we sailed on!