1.08.2010

Quid Pro Who?

Reciprocity is a way of defining people's informal exchange of goods and labour; that is, people's informal economic systems. It is the basis of most non-market economies.

Turning back the clock, we would all find ourselves living as hunter-gatherers at some point. This way of life focused on a system of exchange that predated even barter and trade. People were typically involved in a gift giving economy, where goods and services are regularly given without any explicit agreement on rewards. Simultaneous and recurring gift giving serves to circulate and redistribute any valuables within the community.

We find many modern day examples of the gift economy, particularly in the Pacific Region:

Native Americans Pacific Northwest Tribes potlatch (meaning gift), where one commnunity invites another to a huge feast, with the main purpose of the redistribution or reciprocity of wealth.
New Zealand Maori koha (gift),gift giving by visitors to a host, traditionally involving food or a tresured possession.
Papua New Guinea moka, big men (local leaders) are involved in complex exchange of pigs and sweet potatoes which serves to elevate prestige.
South African Bushmen- ecomonomy based on gift giving instead of trade or purchasing goods
SouthEast Asia Buddhists- feasts of merit, similar to potlatch and occurs after the rainy season.

The concept of Fa'a Samoa or "The Samoan Way" is the fabric that glues the traditional society here together. Each person has a clearly defined relationship to another in the extended family, which is orchestrated by a matai or chief. Certain cultural mores or taboos are enforced via this network and it is one of the first lessons learned by a palagi. At first glance an outsider may view these proceedings as strange, odd, or even corrupt on a certain level. The sooner one comes to accept these laws of the land, the smoother their transition or stay will be.

One of the chief tenets of Fa'a Samoa is reciprocity, or more clearly defined by cultural anthropologists as balanced reciprocity. One look no further than the elaborate feasts that Samoans hold called Fa'alavelaves (any event where the extended family gathers together), usually held for weddings and funerals. The matai or chief of the family solicits funds from the extended family, which can be a considerable amount. In addition to hard cash, they may arrange for canned fish, fine mats, and other items to be included. The family members arrive at the gathering, where elaborate rituals, dancing, talking chief speeches are taking place. In exchange, 1/2 of the money or gifts may be returned, the visitor given food for more than one sitting (take home bag necessary). Others will be pressured to have a more elaboarate faalavelave and thus the cycle continues. Unfortunately, in modern day society the sums of money are huge, corruption, excessive family pressure, and virtual extortion of off-island members can taint the pureness of the practice.

Reciprocity extendes its tentacles into virtaully every fabirc of Samoan society.
One need only spend an afternoon in Samoa, before you start to scratch your head and wonder, what the hell is going on here? Doors are locked, people not available, normal everday items sold out. This facade will drive the average person crazy until you rip away the curtain and expose an ordinary man behind the curtain, The Samoan Way. At first many sneer at this system, describing it as corrupt or unfair, but sooner or later they will be involved in paybacks.

My first in depth encounter with Fa'a Samoa, occured down at the shipping container yard, where our car had arrived from California. Excited at the prospect of transportation after sharing a hospital vehicle for the past few months, we were met by a stiff lipped receptionist, who stated that indeed our shipping container had arrived and no we could not have our car today. We were handed numerous forms, which we had to conduct a virtual scavenger hunt (nobody was where they were supposed to be) to complete. Confident in our completion, we returned to the yard later that week. The next move in the chess match had to do with bargaining. A little known fact is that the American Samoa government collects 10% of the blue book value of your car upon arrival. Rook to knight, our car was a junker, after a few minutes of negotiating, we handed over 50 bucks. Sorry, but you will have to return after the weekend, as we will need to process the paperwork. The next monday, we were stonewalled, as they told us a visiting cruise ship had closed the shipping yard and customs.

At this point we decided to come in through the back door, local style. Our new landlord happened to be the manager down at the stevedoring company. When we cruised in with him, the tight lips became smiles, the no becomes yes, and closed was indeed open for business. We went through the backworkings of the customs building, into a room with (no lie) at least 10 customs officers, with feet kicked up, eating breadfuit and smoking under the constant hum of the aircon unit. The motherlode, we had the key which now fit the keyhole; of course we could have are car inspected today. With a few waves of the hand our container was unloded from the stack, pried open, and 1 sweet 1997 ford taurus sedan, complete with cracked windshiled and smashed in r side rolled off the palate. The customs officer said "you sent this thing across the pacific" everyone laughed as we pulled out less than 3 hours later.

After a while, you don't even notice when a police officer pulls you over, you conveniently mention that you work at the hospital, and the next monday he is sitting in your office explaining that he is constipated. Or, that your neighboorhood store drives your empty scuba tanks across island to be filled, which you repay with a chocolate cake all around. Or you help load crates of beer on a motor boat and find that your fare has gone down to zero. Bring food anywhere and like it or not you may have friends for life.

The most recent episode of The Samoan Way, happened as a result of a drivers license citation I received in a holiday weekend roadblock. The cop asked if I had a local license, which is not valid on the mainland, at which I said no. Having been on island more than 3 months, I was given a citation and told I needed to appear in court and obtain a local license. My first attempt to dial into the system was busy, as i went down to the court house to ask a favor from a judge that was a patient of mine. He denies my access, as he reiterated that that was the law, informed me of the course of action, and even flagged me down in the parking lot to tell me to bring my passport to court. Arghh! My next dial in was accidental, almost a wrong number. The clerk at the court house, where I was obtaining a sercuity clearance, asked if I worked at the hospital. Looking down at my scrubs, I stated yes I do, yes I do. Do you know Dr. X., of course we go way back, well in that case why don't you just pay a fine and get the license later, scouts honor style. I almost fell over laughing, when the clerk suggested that I just pay $10 dollars instead of the required $60. Attention, we have a green light! One can easily see how relative law in general is especially when someone picks up on the other end of the Fa'a Samoa batline.

Of course traditional mechanisms for control break down from the onslaught of modernization, rapid corruption sinks its teeth in. Intense prssure is exerted on individuals and families to pay to the chief of a village for a fa'a lavelave, funeral, or festival. When governments become involved, just like in many backwaters in the world, kickbacks are handed out. This corruption has many of the current administration under indictment or investigation. Living in a small community in the south pacific, lives up to the phrase, it's who you know.

“Nothing can cure the soul but the senses, just as nothing can cure the senses but the soul.” Oscar Wilde