Almost everyone in my family plays Bingo. I’m SDA, born and raised and we don’t play bingo. But you’ll find a lot of Seventh Day Adventists at the bingo halls “dopping” their cards haha

Bingo nights are pretty much for the whole family, whether you play or not. If you’re a bingo player, then you’re in the hall two hours before the caller calls out the first number lol. If you don’t play bingo, then you’re in the parking lot, socializing with the other folks who don’t play bingo.

You’ll find a concession stand at the bingo hall so don’t think you’ll starve there lol. They sell food, snacks and drinks. I have an Aunt who plays EVERY night at the Ili’ili Church, the nights their bingo hall is open. And she takes her own snacks, food and drinks. She says thats her luck. Her things. Ok, whatever you say, Aunty.

…in the words of Leila

I can tell you his whole life story. His goals, and dreams. His accomplishments, wishes and favorite sayings. I can tell you what his loves were, who his loves were, and how much of a God fearing man he was. I can tell you how he could throw anything together and it would be the best breakfast, lunch, or dinner ever. I can tell you all of that, and so, so much more. He was my best man, my best friend, my comforter, my clown, my “knock it off or I’ll knock you out” man haha, my father.

He wanted so much out of life, and lived it to the fullest. He worked hard to put food on the table, and making sure there was a roof over our heads that didn’t leak. He loved to laugh, and smiled often. Everyone in the village referred to him as Mr. Sam, Rasta, or Sir. It was weird hearing people say Sir to him. *shrugs* Everyone said that my father was too strict, too over protective. But what loving father isn’t? He wasn’t a man of words..not very many that is. He was more of an “action” kind of guy. He made sure things went through, first for his family, then for the rest. He loved his work, but loved us more.

…in the words of Leila

Have you ever heard of a ‘beauty lock’? A ’sope’? Apparently back in Lauli’i’s time, it was fashionable for children to keep their entire heads shaven except for a small section of hair - at the front of the head or on either side above the ears - which they would dye red with burnt coral. According to Lauli’i:

“…the girl who had the reddest ’sope’ attracted the most favorable attention, and incidentally reflected credit upon her mother…”

I had no idea.

But my own mother can verify this ’sope’ story. Apparently they were still shaving children’s heads like this when she was a child back in the 1940s and ’50s. Mum says the idea was to make them look like those red things on the top of roosters’ heads.

Riiiiight.

…from Samoan Like Me

The nimble fingers dance across the board with hands showing wear and tear of a hardworking life, a dedication to working the family plantation, building the family home, the hand of a bible holding childhood, disciplinary cuts of a hand upon a child - once strong and useful to the Aiga these hands are reduced to the competition of a quick thinking mind and the reasoning of veteran conscience that dictates the outcome of this simple game.

To the naked eye of an outsider, the old men playing Mu is an equivalent of a bunch of alcoholics, but if you look deeper it is more than just a game that these souls play to fade away the lazy hot Samoan afternoon, but a last element of competition to show superiority and being a man in this culture of hierarchy and duty bound soldiers of a village, family, country.

…from Screaming Tree

When your in love with someone, you do all your lovey dovey cutesy couple things, wierd - for some reasons Samoans here in Samoa just don’t do that.

Its Taboo.

Kids walk to school with thier friends and hold hands, girls can hold another girls hand, a boy can hold another boys hand - but a girl and boy holding hands is kaukalaikiki (considered cheeky) LOL

So unless we are either pro-gay and lesbian, it is instilled in our culture that holding hands with your girlfriend or boyfriend is just something ‘you do not do’ (even if your married!)

…from Screaming Tree

On the A&E channel, there’s this show called “Intervention,” and families who have a loved one that is either an addict of watever drug or alcohol, are given an ultamatum. If they continue with their addiction, they are no longer allowed in their homes, and in their lives. They cut them off, forever. It’s their addiction, or their families. And I’ve watched the show a few times. A mother who was a drunk, a sloppy drunk with a husband and 3 kids. The husband threw out all alcohol. The mother needed alcohol so badly that because there was none in the house, she started drinking mouth wash. She wanted so much to have the burning sensation. She said that’s what it was for her. She was disfunctional, so not able to take care of herself, and did not have the ability to take care of her family. Her husband and children love her so much, that she was given an intervention.There was a man who was so deep in alcohol. He breathed, walked, talked and lived alcohol. It was all he saw. It was all he knew. It was all that mattered to him. If he didn’t have it, there was hell to pay. It started off when he lost his job, and he turned to alcohol. He had been turning to alcohol for about 30 years now. His family had enough and gave him the same choice as other families do when on the show. It’s crazy. But I don’t see myself that way.

…in the words of Leila

News has spread across the Pacific of the death of Otara Millionaires Club (OMC) frontman, Pauly Fuemana, 40 yrs old, a little after 7am Sunday 31 January 2010 (NZ time), after a short illness.

Fuemana’s song How Bizzare was released in 1995 and was one of New Zealand’s biggest international hits and was named Single of the Year at the following New Zealand Music Awards.