Reflections from the girls ocean

Before I came to Samoa, I came upon a former Independent Study Project that inspired my studies here. The girl wrote a series of pieces that were meant to be performed orally and narrated through the eyes of a Samoan girl. This one was my favorite. I think she articulates exactly how I feel about Samoa and my interests here.

THE OCEAN by Shannon Sonenstein

In school we learned that most of the earth’s surface is made up of water. It’s funny to think of it that way because all Mr. Smith, my teacher, the pisikoa (peace corps), ever talks about, focuses on, is the land. I’ve heard the human body is like that too.

Even though I can’t see it, can’t imagine it, I’m mostly water.
Fluid.
Flowing.
Liquid and changing rather than confined to a solid.
Mold.
Role.
Form. As I’ve been trained to think.

Do you know what else I learned today? There are more women on earth than men. I told that to my sister and she laughed at me. She asked, “If there are more women, then why do we only learn about men — what they do? what they think?” And I tried to tell her that women must be like the ocean.

Deep.

Unexplored.

Fluid.

And it would make sense then that the body’s mostly water because that’s where we come from. When I think of my sisters, I think of water. Of nighttime. After supper when we gather under the pipe in the yard and bathe together. All of us sleek and shiny with water. Lavalavas clinging, scrubbing our underpants together. Sharing the water and blowing soap bubbles. Helping each other wash our long, long hair. Surrounded always by water.

That’s how I think of Samoa too. Of being nourished, washed, wiped clean by the ocean. Kissed on all sides by her waves. Protected from the rest of the world. Safe in the ocean’s womb. That’s how I feel after school when all of us girls run to the beach to cool down in our sami, our sea.
Safe.
Protected.
Rocked.
Calmed.
And surrounded . . . by my sisters.