Midsummer

Today is Midsummer day here in Aotearoa-New Zealand. The sun is shining and the pohutukawa trees are in full bloom on the banks of the Whanganui River.

Whichever hemisphere you are in, I wish you a very happy solstice, Christmas and New Year.

Sun is shining, weather is sweet

Makes you wanna move your dancing feet

-Bob Marley

Re-entry shock

The boys hanging out at our house

Right now I should be at a party with my boyfriend, in Palmerston North. But I’ve had to give my apologies and my boyfriend, bless him, was very understanding. I’m tired. I don’t feel well. I feel disoriented and disconnected from what should be my life.

I was very sad to leave Satitoa, but my first day back in New Zealand was wonderful. I was really happy to see my family and my boyfriend again. But the next day, when I went back to work, things weren’t so good. And they’ve deteriorated from there.

Having dinner with new friends in Apia

I’m so so so tired. I want to sleep for a week. I'm having crazy, vivid dreams.

I’m having trouble concentrating and remembering things.

I feel guilty – oh boy, do I feel guilty. Yes, I can walk away from Satitoa and its poverty and its devastation. I can have a proper bed to sleep in and a hot shower if I want. I don’t have to go back Satitoa ever again. But the people who live there don’t have that option. When will you come back to see us? they asked us when we left.

I do want to go back to Satitoa. There’s so much more that can be done to help that village.

I’m irritable. I find myself being judgmental of others.

Everything seems mundane. Especially work and all its petty politics. None of the “big” stories interest me or are relevant to me.

It’s like a reverse form of culture shock. But that’s ridiculous – it’s not like I lived in Samoa. I wasn’t there for long.

The whole team with the finished fale

So it was fantastic to meet with the rest of the team today to have a debrief, and discover I wasn’t alone in these feelings. All we did was sit around and talk about our experiences in Samoa and our experiences of re-entry back to New Zealand. There was much laughter and some tears. The younger among us seem to be finding it harder to come home, particularly those without children. Even our sweet Quin, who was always happy and singing while we were in Samoa, said he had been super cranky since he’d been back in New Zealand.

I hear people complaining about this and that and I think, you don’t know what you’re talking about, you haven’t lost everything you owned in a tsunami, he said. And 10 other heads around the table nodded. We know what you mean.

I wanted to give all of them a hug. I’d spent not a long time, but an intense time, with them. Most of them I’d never met before the trip, and none of them I knew well before we left for Samoa. But we bonded so well as a team that it has been a shock to be suddenly apart from them. One of the boys said he had woken last night and for a few minutes had been convinced his wife was actually the man who’d slept in the next bed to him while we were in Satitoa.

These feelings we are experiencing will fade in time. But, in a way, I don’t want them to. Because I do want to find some way of returning to Satitoa one day, to ensure our visit was no flash in the pan.

Samoan dream

Walking through the plantations to Matalena's house

We stepped off the plane in Apia, Samoa, at three o’clock in the morning. Out beyond the airport buildings I could dimly see coconut palms waving in the breeze. Above the smell of jet fuel that same breeze brought the scent of damp vegetation. And it was hot! So hot I thought I must have been standing in the stream of the plane’s engines. That was until I walked across the tarmac and it was still just as hot ...

I am back in New Zealand after an unforgettable time in Samoa. We lived – one Samoan woman, nine Kiwi blokes, and me – in the village of Satitoa for 10 days. During that time we built a Samoan fale [traditional house] to use as a church and a preschool. We lived as part of the village: worked hard, went to church, swam in the sea, bought beer and meat from the [one and only] shop, socialised with the villagers. Some of us even attempted to speak Samoan.

Graham working on the fale

The church/preschool was built in just four and a half days. Deciding where it was to be located took much longer than that; the decision had to be made by the village, not us, and Samoans don’t believe in rushing these things. Some of the residents are determined to stay in the ruined village but most of them are now living behind the village in the plantations, which are out of the sea’s reach. In the end common sense prevailed and a site in the plantations was agreed upon. It was next to the minister’s fale, on a sloping lawn that caught the cool breeze and had distant views of the sea.

This was where I slept, between Allan and Graham

We lived in what had been Satitoa’s only motel until the tsunami went through it, across the road from the sea and the high chief’s house. By New Zealand standards it was roughing it; by Satitoa standards, post-tsunami, it was privileged. The building’s windows, doors and everything in it had been washed away by the tsunami, leaving just a concrete shell. The kitchen had no roof and only one solid wall. When it rained [often] we had a mad scramble to keep everything dry. We had electricity most of the time; running water occasionally.

All 11 of us slept on mats in one room next to the kitchen. There was absolutely no privacy at all and I had to get used to dressing in front of not only nine men but anyone who happened to be passing by the house. Nights were the craziest time. We often had violent storms. Local cats and dogs would wander in, attracted by the smell of food. One night we had an invasion of u’u, giant coconut crabs – one even got into Tim’s bed. Another night a water pipe burst. We had two world champion snorers, who always fell asleep before the rest of us!


Tim waiting for the rain to stop [again]

The locals welcomed us with overwhelming generosity. Most of them had lost everything they owned, but they still wanted to give. They worked alongside us on the building; they gave us gifts; and they fed us, although most of us found Samoan food hard to stomach as it’s very starchy. Vegetarians should probably not bother expecting to be fed in a Samoan village, unless they really like taro.

So I’m back, and I’m exhausted, but tomorrow I’m expected again in the newsroom. It all seems very unreal.

To be continued ...

Keith, Graham, Bruce and Quinten looking at the finished fale

Packing for Samoa

The ever-increasing pile of gear I'm taking with me to Samoa

In four days’ time I leave for Samoa. Not for a holiday; I’m going to work. I’m part of a team that is helping a Samoan village rebuild after the deadly tsunami that hit the south coast on 30 September.

News of the tsunami devastated New Zealand. Samoans make up New Zealand’s fourth largest population and most towns and cities here have Samoan communities. Also, I think many people, like me, had a sense of “there but for the grace of God go I” – which is what I think when ever I hear overseas news of an earthquake or tsunami. New Zealand is vulnerable to so many natural disasters. It was Samoa in September; it could be us next.

After the tsunami the Whanganui District Council decided to “adopt” a Samoan village and raise money for that village. One of our district councillors took charge of this and whipped up $45,000 from the local community in short order. Whanganui’s population is about 40,000, so it was a damned fine effort. Then the council decided not to donate the money to a charity but to give it directly to the village in the form of practical help. After consultation with the local Samoan community the village of Satitoa was chosen. Fifteen of Satitoa’s residents were killed in the tsunami and the place has been all but destroyed.

The village elders and the leaders of Whanganui’s Samoan community asked the council to use some of the money to build a shelter for Satitoa's residents to use as a church. Churches are the focal points of any Samoan community. Individual households are receiving assistance from the government but churches are needed to bring the people together. The council then asked for volunteers to go to Samoa and within a week we had an 11-strong team.

We’re an interesting mix of people. Our most essential member is our interpreter, an elderly but lively Samoan woman named Tumema. Her motto is “don’t worry be happy”! One of our district councillors, Danny, is our matai, or chief. We also have a few council officers – Keith, our super organiser and “camp mother”; Tim, the water supply expert; and Allan, who has a military background and has worked in disaster relief in the tropics. Alan is our head builder and he brings with him another builder, Quentin. Alan’s brother Graham is going, he’s a policeman, and Bruce is a vet. Blake, the youngest member of the team, is a fireman. And then there’s me. Apparently – if you believe the men – I’m in charge of cooking, cleaning and ironing!!

What ever else I end up doing in Satitoa, I’ll be the team’s journalist and will feed stories back to the newspaper on a daily basis. I’ve spent quite a bit of time recently sorting out communication technology and have a Plan A and a Plan B all organised.

On Monday night a civic reception was held for us at the council chambers – a chance for the district councillors and local Samoan community to meet the reconstruction team. It was an emotional time, particularly meeting the local Samoan people whose brothers and sisters we are going to help. I’m excited but also a little nervous about the trip. Nervous because I don’t know how I will cope with the very basic conditions, the heat and of course the aftermath of the tsunami.

My fervent prayer is that our work will bless the people of Satitoa and Whanganui’s Samoan people, and that we are able to form some new ties between the communities of Satitoa and Whanganui.

I will try to update this blog while I’m in Satitoa but communication will be patchy and obviously my first priority will be getting my stories back to the newspaper. If I’m unable to blog you should be able to read my dispatches from Samoa here and here, from Monday or Tuesday, New Zealand time. Otherwise, I’ll be back in a couple of weeks.