Most countries proclaimed a national holiday on the day they were officially formed, they became a republic or independent from another country. American Samoa instead has a national holiday, or better, a national party, on the day they became a colony: flag day, or unofficially, dependence day.
(From the governor proclamation)
“On April 17, 1904, … the chiefs of Tutuila and Manu’a (3 islands west of here)…entered into agreements of cession…with the Government of the United States of America…. In return, the USA agreed to establish a good and sound government, protect traditional rights and property of the Samoan people, and promote the peace and welfare of the people….. NOW, THEREFORE, in honor of these momentus historical events, I… Governor of American Samoa, proclaim Flag Day will be celebrated on.. April 17, and continue until April 18, in American Samoa, for the observance of appropriate ceremonies, commemorating the raising of the Flag of the USA over AS. I further call upon the government and the people of AS to participate wholeheartedly in this year’s celebration….”
And if you lived here long enough, you know that Samoan do truly know how to through a killer party.
Personally, I have one more reason to celebrate: after 2 years of isolation (with a short visit from another Italian that was soon mistaken for a terrorist), on Wednesday the 16th April 2008, at 5:20 pm, after Pietro put foot in American Samoa landing from Independent Samoa, I am not anymore the only Italian for miles and miles of empty sea. This can be extremely proving on a long ran, especially when Italy wins the world cup (calcio) and you are left alone to cheer surrounded with coconuts and bananas.
And next day, my cousin Mia arrived on the Hawaiian Thursday night flight. The Italian population tripled in only 2 days, showing a population growth that only samoan can emulate. And it is more to that: we are family.
To follow a chronological order, on Wednesday I picked up Pietro at the airport, we went home for a quick shower, and drove back to “down town” (Fagatogo village, if we can really call it this way) to see the United States Marine Band in concert. Although, the rain was too much even for my truckosauros (which name, to specify, was not given because it is a huge monster (big with big tires), but because it is very very ancient), and we decided to turn back and do something else instead. Apparently the rain was too much even for the marines that deleted the performance anyway. Since I have been missing from the island for a while, a dinner with the other palagis was very welcome!
Thursday was holiday, and I did not have to go to work. It is a great way to start the working routine after coming back from a 3 weeks holiday: 3 days working, followed by 4 days weekend. We went to the Stadium to watch performances (dancing and singing) organized by schools and villages. But the Flood was not over yet, and the field rapidly turned into something closer to quick sands. We saw the “Samoa Myth of Creation” and two bands playing, before the governor decided to postpone the other performances to the next day. It is very smart to plan 2 days of party instead of one! Now, I was very proud to be able to show Pie’ such a great samoan show, and with cancelled performances, I did not know where to take him. Plus the road to my house becomes a full white water stream and it is not drivable until the rain stops. Providentially Sam had a great idea. That do you do when it rains for two days and there are huge puddles anywhere? You go to play in the mud! After all, this is Neverland, why not?
I haven’t been sliding on wet grass since I was very little. The perfect place would be a place without stones, with a good green soft grass, and a nice slope ending in a big puddle. And Sam knew exactly where this perfect place was: the gulf curt (he also knew where the hole in the fence was). This is where the kids go to play when it rains, us included. Running, diving on the wet grass, and sliding into puddles was fun, but when Sam got a ball and we started playing rugby, things got much tougher. Especially with samoan kids, that at a tender age of 14 are already the equivalent of big calves. The pictures say it all.
Home again, shower, and then we got ready to go pick up my cousin Mia at the airport, as the island still was enjoying their dependence day, with free food and drink for everybody downtown.
Mia is here! As soon as she arrived, the italian’s traditions started: cigarettes and wine!
(I believed this particular needed to be highlighted. Doug (palagi with gray shirt) is a very tall guy, much much taller than me! can you see this young calf going for him??? man! Doug is brave!)
Friday: we chatted until 3 in the morning, and at 6am Pie’ came in our room to wake us up, pulling our toes and then going to prepare the coffee. How much I love this and how much I missed it! Not that all Italians wake up each other pulling toes, but I just missed so much all these little attentions…
Why 6 am you may ask? We could not miss the fautasi race! Fautasi are huge 50-men 2-rows canoes. The paddler always paddles on the same side, and these boats can be incredibly fast. I could not find much about the history, but I can say that presently they are only used for the Flag Day race (and for about 1-2 months training before that). For the rest on the year, they rest in peace underneath big shelters. 
(it is only 7:30 in the morning, but those guys on the background are already at their 3rd Vailimas...-local beer)
(pulling the Fautasi back into the shelter where it will rest in peace until next Flag Day)
Samoans have a very intense sense of humor (I always says that, if you want to live here, you must either have a good sense of humor, or you must develop it, or you will leave on next flight out): they love to laugh and to make people laughing, and this ooze on their shows.
We returned to the stadium with the idea of staying there for one hour or so, but the shows were so entreating that we stayed until 3.00 pm, way later our planned siesta time.
(we, the i-talians, Mia, myself, and Pietro, gained VIP status and free lunch... uhmm!)In particular, a group from the neighbor island of Independent Samoa (they are a independent country, I guess it is nice they come for the party of the neighbor dependent island…) was just hysterical.
One of their singing/dancing was about woman abuse in the family, and they talked on how the husband would go to the pub and cheat with fa’fafine (samoan transvestite), then go home and hit their wives. Although, they would be hit back from the parents (maybe the wife parents, maybe his or maybe both, I could not get that). Husbands would also be hit back from the fa’fafine that would fell unloved and used. At the same time, the parent would hit the fa’fafine away from their sons/sons-in-law. I guess this tells a lot about samoan family. I will put the video on a separate entry…
(Indipendent Samoa presented AS with lots immense tapas (above), lots of huge fine mats, and of course, roasted pigs)
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