Why I’m enduring the pain of a Samoan tatau
This ancient tradition is an extraordinary thing – and an agonising process. Thankfully, my friends have rallied around.
This summer holidays, I thought I’d do something different. Instead of relax and read or do nothing like usual, I thought I would undergo one of the most painful cultural rituals available to a male: amalofie or pe’a, the traditional Samoan tatau (tattoo).
Many cultures have rites of passage. Samoan culture must be one of the few to have one for both males and females that involves hours upon hours of pain over the sorest parts of the body.
The male tatau goes from just below the ribs, over the torso to just below the knees. The female version is called amalu, and covers the front and back thighs. This custom of tattooing is one of the unique treasures of Samoan culture that helps make it distinct in the world.
The first pe’a I saw was on a wrestler I watched on TV when I was a kid. High Chief Peter Maivia (grandfather of The Rock) was on aNew Zealand wrestling show called On The Mat and, in my eyes, he was The Man.
I remember being amazed that his tatau was a distinctly Samoan custom, and there he was wearing it proudly as he displayed his skills in wrestling arenas around the world.
Then, as a young actor with Christchurch Theatre Company Pacific Underground, in a collaboration with Australian company Zeal Theatre, I got to work with the late, great tufuga (master tattooist) Sua Suluape Paulo II.
I thought one day that he would be the one to do my tatau once I was ready for it. Sadly, his life was tragically taken and one of the giants of Samoan tatau was lost.
This year, a friend’s recommendation lead me to Tulau’ega Maleko. Based in South Auckland, he’s a humble lovely man and an incredible artist.
Great tufuga have waiting lists months long, and he was no exception. My option was next September or Christmas Eve. In for a penny, in for a pound – as someone’s grandmother once said in the olden days – and so here I am, now a week into it.
There have been many moments over this time when I wished Samoan culture had a less agonising rite of passage, like, say, a drink-up in the garage, but no. The pain is required and the experience is intended to be transformative.
It’s done using amethod and with tools that have barely changed over 3000 years. Way back in the day, Samoans got this tatau between the ages of 12 and 18 as a passage into adulthood (for more information, see the excellent book Tatau: A History of Samoan Tattooing, by Sean Mallon and Se´bastien Galliot).
Given it’s the holiday season, I didn’t want to bother my friends. My goal was to just head out to Flatbush for my sessions. Fat chance. Once my closest friends found out they rallied around to help get me through this. Just as well, as I’ve needed them. I’ve never held their hands so much in my life. ABIGAIL DOUGHERTY/ STUFF
Getting a pe’a is an extraordinary thing. You’re stretched out next to the tufuga and his team of assistants, whose job is to stretch the skin while he goes to work and then wipe away the ink and blood so he can move on to another patch.
Most of these men have already successfully gone through this, so know exactly what you’re experiencing. They are just as important and are so tuned in to what you’re going through, it’s like they are experiencing it with you.
Still, you’re the one whose skin is being broken, and who has to earn it.
I’ll let you know how I get on.
‘ I wished Samoan culture had a less agonising rite of passage.’