‘Tell them there's no B in Samoan’
I am completely fob — fresh off the boat — on paper.
Timuiaipaepaetele Lealaiauloto Vaimoana Tala’ipa Tapaleao. The first two names are matai titles I picked up over the years, but the Samoan language has long played a huge part in my life.
When you have a name like mine, it’s almost impossible to get away from acknowledging the mother-tongue; with people often mispronouncing or misspelling at least one of those names.
One time I came home with a certificate that had savaged my poor grandfather’s name — our surname.
My dad sent me back to school with a message for the teacher: “Tell them there’s no B in the Samoan alphabet.”
When I started school, the only language I really knew was Samoan. As one of my older cousins once put it: “You were completely fob. You couldn’t speak any English.”
I grew up in what a lot of people would call a traditional Samoan family; with our Christian faith, language and cultural protocol at the forefront.
Samoan was the only language we spoke at home and when our parents heard my cousins and I speaking English, there would be a loud voice saying: “Fa’asamoa!” (Speak Samoan). At Sunday School, lessons were taught in Samoan. The exams we sat and the memory verses we had to recite were all in Samoan. Knowing Samoan was never something I struggled with because it was just how things were at home. It would be years later when I’d realise just how much I’d taken that for granted, as friends and some relatives scrambled to learn after growing up just speaking English. It has also helped in other aspects of life, including my job, especially when speaking to elderly Samoans whose eyes light up when they hear the language that is so dear to them. I also appreciate other languages and the importance of saying and spelling a name correctly. I’m still learning and only hope others feel brave enough to at least give it a try. — Vaimoana Tapaleao