Sounds of Samoa

After a weekend visiting my village that I lived in for two years, I was suddenly hyper aware of the sounds of the village. Now that I live in the capitol of Samoa, the sounds are much different. But it is the sounds of the village that make up Samoa in my mind.

As I sit there during the day in my family’s faletele (open, traditional Samoan house), I listen to the constant crow of the roosters. They are everywhere and never seem to sleep. The pigs wander around, snorting, sniffing, eating, and sleeping. The dogs run and bark after each other, cars, people, basically anything that seems to be a threat. The sound of a song on someone’s speaker blares throughout the village. Typically the song of the season plays on repeat, and I mean literally repeat; it plays again and again and again for hours. No one seems to tire of it until the next big song comes along, which will probably be in about 3 to 6 months. Children are laughing and chasing each other, assuming everyone is napping or they have no chores to do. 

In the evenings, at least two church choirs can be heard practicing. The sound of the piano and the youthful voices of children singing hymns that they’ve probably known since they began to talk. People are walking along the road and calling out to each other as they enjoy the coolness of the evening once the sun has gone down. The roosters continue to crow – nothing’s going to stop them from letting out their thoughts. Pigs have settled in for the night after eating. The dogs are even more riled up; ready to protect the property they live on. 

Even in the middle of the night, the chickens are making as much noise as they want. The dogs occasionally start fights and much barking ensues from several dogs. The main sound though, is the sound of the ocean waves coming in. Even if you don’t live right next to the ocean, you can hear the sound of the water.

Despite there being cars, especially in my village, the sound of cars is not prominent to me. Occasionally, one will honk and the sound of the diesel engine buses doesn’t miss my attention. But it is all the little sounds that come to mind when I sit and listen to the village.