How is anyone supposed to survive?

That's the million dollar question. All I hear from Samoa these days is how expensive the cost of living is. Yet on Facebook I see my more affluent friends travelling the world at will. I wonder how Keli is doing. I wonder how Ofo is doing. I wonder how Thomas is doing. I wonder how Kid is doing. I wonder how Ioapo is doing. I wonder how Taualagi is doing. And countless others who occupy Samoa's unskilled labor force. I am appalled by the cost of simple basic food items as I speak to my mother on the phone. I try to imagine life without electricity and milk and butter in a cold fridge. I cringe but that is a reality for many of my childhood friends. Friends whom I think of often and friends who have in some way shaped the person I am today.

I hate politics. I hate religion. I hate poverty. All of these have a hand in the harsh daily lives that consume my people. But the biggest hate of all for me is the realization that I can do nothing about it. I realize that the task of saving the world is too big. I am not Atlas and I can not shoulder the weight of the world and for some reason I am disappointed in myself for not at least trying. I have my own selfish existence to sustain and at times I consider myself pathetic for my selfish pursuits.

How is the human spirit supposed to flourish with creativity and happiness when everything around you is out of reach? At least that's the muse of this blogger.

Keli is an old village boy who now works for my parents as our gardener. He makes sure our quarter of an acre in our little corner of the world is landscaped to my father's expectations. Being in those shoes before I reckon my old man will get every red cent worth out of Keli. And then some. Keli got absorbed into our family over the years. He lived in my former village and as a child used to come around and linger on the fringes of our house. Eventually I let him through the door. One of my nephews befriended him and he's been in the household ever since. Its been 17 years now. Keli is the only thing left we have from our old house. Well except for my memories.

Over the years we had an on again off again relationship with Keli. He would work for us then not show up. Find out he's working somewhere else. We never denied him the opportunity to work elsewhere though. Wherever he felt was best for him we let him be. When my nephew went off to University and I moved to the US he disappeared. But funny enough if either of us return to Samoa for a visit Keli would find out and quit whatever job he had going and come and stay with us for the duration of our visit. Not quite sure what he did after we left.

I wish I could do more for him. Keli is now a man. He has a wife and two kids and they live within very minimal means. One night I went to drop him off at his wife's family where he lives. It was a simple fale overcrowded with bodies. I said, "Jesus Keli couldn't you have married into some money". We both chuckled then we were greeted by his naked children. Both of whom are spitting images of him when he first started coming over to house as a young twelve year old.

As I fumble through my photos over the years and see him at different stages I start to worry about him. What the future holds for him and what the future holds for his children. His father passed away when he was barely a teenager. His mother then migrated to NZ to live with his older siblings. At times we were the only source of guidance he had and at times I felt like I have failed him.

I hope Samoa does not push their poor deeper into the shadows. I hope the Fa'a Samoa will leave no one behind. In fact I don't hope it, I wish it.