My father is a Matai.

I imagine back in the 70's .... leaving Samoa in your early 20s, having never been overseas, let alone another island would be a mammoth undertaking. I can only guess at the feelings that would have swept over my father as he heard his parents' decision to send him abroad. Having given up school at age 8 to cultivate and care for his family's plantation, so his ailing father wouldn't have to-: wake up at dawn, walk at least 5kms inland (many times without shoes) and then labour at length as the sun reached its peak with blunt tools and cracked palms, clearing land, pruning, grafting, weeding and labouring with all his might to produce a crop worthy of consumption. Then making the long trek back but this time with a load of coconuts, or taros, or bananas or whatever was to make the meal for that day… sometimes all of those things together… and not sometimes but every day. His family and village recognised he was a hardworker (and continues to be). His family...

My earliest memories are from the year 1982. I'm in Samoa. Visiting. I'm 5. I've become a big sister this year... I have a little brother and I love him.  My mum is busy, but she's there. The memories I have are of two men ... both very different from each other but also very much alike. One tall, broad and stern - the other shorter, smiles alot and seems gentler. One from Savaii and as traditional as they come - the other, from the opposite side of Upolu, afakasi and soft spoken. One liked dogs, the other cats. Both hunters, both hardworking and both respected chiefs in their own right. These men... my grandfathers. What I remember most, is that they both had so much love for me, that even now, years after they've passed I can still feel the intensity of their love. I remember their adoration. I remember they made time for me in a time when that wasn't really done. Perhaps their love was magnified because of the rarity of a visit from a granddaught...

This blog is dedicated to my father who to the world around him is a Samoan chief! Strong, strict, a fighter, a warrior, proud and a fierce protector of his own.... but who to me is a family man, the most loving and compassionate, honorable and respectful man I know... full of wisdom and humility. Full of adoration for his grandchildren and dreams for his children.  This is a collection of true stories - bar perhaps a few phrases here and there ... that have happened to me and/or the people I love. This is a place for me to record stories I don't want to forget and for my son to read them again and again, long after I've gone and am not here to share them with him or his children. May my son's experiences in life be enriched by the person I have become thanks to my parents... and thanks to the ever teaching and ever reminiscent words of my father. I share these stories with an open heart and mind and do it only to give thanks and praise for what I have been bl...