In 1925-26, armed with a Columbia University Ph.D. in cultural anthropology, 23-year-old Margaret Mead spent about six months on the island of Ta’ü, Manu’a, American Samoa, conducting field research on whether nurture or nature was predominant in determining behavior. Her controversial book, Coming of Age in Samoa (which I was required to read in Anthropology 101 at the University of Utah in 1964), described an idyllic place where adolescent promiscuity was a natural part of their society.

Even though her book captured the imagination of many, while raising the ire of others, that didn’t stop the people of Ta’ü from giving the doyenne of anthropology a royal welcome when she returned for the first time in 46 years on November 11, 1971 . . . and I had fa’amolemole‘d [i.e. begged] and bluffed my way onto the official traveling party to see it:

Margaret Mead at Faleasao, Manu'a, 1971

Margaret Mead (center) with American Samoa Governor John Hayden
(on her left) arriving at Faleasao, Ta’ü, Manu’a, on November 11, 1971
— photos by Mike Foley

My wife and I happened to be in Tutuila, the main island of American Samoa, at the time as part of my own six-month  East-West Center field research in the Pacific islands that I have previously mentioned in several other blog entries. One of my East-West Center classmates — sorry, I’ve forgotten his name — was involved with the trip, and when I asked him if I could go, he told me maybe: Come down to the dock in Pago Pago that morning, he said, and if he gave me the high-sign, just walk on board the Manusina (the ship). He did…and I did.

I can’t forget the ride that morning was much different from my other trips to Manu’a as a Mormon missionary in 1965: In ‘71 the boat seemed very fast, only taking about four hours to travel from Pago to Faleasao, Ta’ü (which, I believe, is a distance of about 70 miles) . . . whereas my first experience aboard the M.V. Sulumoni — a 60-foot wooden interisland boat — was very different:

There were no lights in Manu’a or docks at the time to help ships, so the Sulumoni had to leave Pago late at night, timing the overnight cruise to arrive at the first stop in Ofu at daybreak, so the men rowing the tulula [lighters] could see. Well, that first night the ocean was so rough that the Sulumoni rocked ferociously, and after several hours of motoring toward’s Manu’a — I was deathly seasick (ma’i vasa) practically the whole time — the captain turned back. We got back to the mission home in Mapusaga about 2 or 3 a.m., and I remember my head was still spinning so badly that when I woke up in the morning I had completely turned around in bed in my sleep.

The next night we tried again, and even though the ocean seemed rougher to me than the night before — with waves washing over the deck — this time the Sulumoni kept going.

About 2 or 3 in the morning, while I was sliding around on a wooden bunk in one of the cabins  trying to keep my ma’i vasa down, several of the crew started running around and yelling, I was told, “the ship is sinking.” We were asked to come on deck to help lighten the load.

I don’t remember how many 50-kilo bags [110 pounds] of cement mix we helped dump overboard, plus the crew threw over some construction rebar (all of the materials were bound for the then-new Manu’a High School which was under construction — largely being built by former Latter-day Saint labor missionaries who were working for the Government of American Samoa at the time). In fact, later, my companion and I had to testify for the court that, yes, we helped dump the materials — as opposed to someone just saying it was dumped and then using it for themselves.

…but finally, the captain said we were okay, and we continued on our way. I don’t remember the rest of that night, but I clearly remember that by the time the sun came up we were off Ofu and — miraculously — I was no longer seasick.

So, back to Margaret Mead:

We arrived several hours before her, because she came on another larger-but-slower ship with American Samoa Governor John Hayden. In addition to welcoming Margaret Mead back to Manu’a, the gov was also dedicating the first power plant in Manu’a, which had been built in Faleasao. This gave us time for a Faleasao matai (chief) to invite us into his fale and, in best Samoan tradition, feed us fresh talo (taro) and yummy palusami (baked young taro leaves and coconut cream).

Margaret Mead at Faleasao, Manu'a, 1971When Mead and the governor arrived, the fa’aSamoa [Samoan culture and protocol] really kicked in. School children danced for the officials, and all the Manu’a chiefs welcomed Mead with a ta’alolo and  sua — the ceremonial presentation of food, drink, and fine mats — followed by an ‘ava fa’atupu [royal kava ceremony].

My notes, which I have kept all these years, indicate that in her response speech Margaret Mead said, “I began my work here in Samoa 46 years ago, and it is fitting that I should end my return trip where I have been visiting other people and at last back to the place where I began my work.”

“I have taken the story of your lives as you lived it long ago to people all over the world; and I’m delighted to come back and find your customs still here, mixed with the new, so that I can see a great ‘ava ceremony at the same time you’re starting a new generator.”

“When I came the malamalama [light] had come as spoken of the light of Christianity. Now, 46 years later, electric light has come, and children no longer need to be afraid in the dark night when they walk around the village. Fa’afetai tele lava [thank you very much]. Manuia le fa’amuli [bless those who remain behind].”

In another interview Mead gave on WVUV-TV, she recalled she “packed my notebooks up in wax paper — we didn’t have any plastics then — to get them safely back to the United States.”

Asked to comment about modern clothing, Mead said: “Forty years ago it wasn’t possible to buy beautiful South Seas material. You either had to wear tapa [bark cloth], or grass skirts, or fine mats, and be completely traditional; or wear rather unattractive, European material.”

Asked about her anthropological observations in Coming of Age, Mead replied: “In 1926 we didn’t know what it was like to grow up anywhere, except in Germany. Most of the gloom about adolescence had come from Germany, and they had these terrible words like weltschmertz [world pain] and adolescence was supposed to be a terrible thing. Americans had read the German books and built up theories about it, so that everywhere in the world you were supposed to have an awful time growing up — political doubts and religious doubts, and conflicts with parents, [and] misery. Parents were supposed to try to fence the children in, and the children were trying to get out. The work I did in Samoa helped explode those ideas.”

Margaret Mead at Faleasao, Manu'a, 1971

“The Samoans, and I think this is true of all Polynesians, have a relationship to all people, that is very gay and very warm: They take you to their hearts. The Europeans and Americans are always impressed with this. They take you to their hearts [too], but I don’t think they keep you very hard. It is this general relationship that is so characteristic.”

A little like Margaret Mead, I have not been back to Manu’a since then — almost 40 years ago now; but it’s still a place that burns in my memory…for the strength of its fa’aSamoa and my own development there as a young man and a Mormon missionary. In my mind I can still stand on the ridge where the high school was eventually built and look across the eight-mile gap between Ta’ü and Olosega, where we used to watch the whales.

I also haven’t read Margaret Mead’s book since that long-ago anthropology class, so I’ll leave it to others to decide whether she was fooled or not, but I can tell you this from my own experience — standing with her on the sandy beach of Faleasao — that she still liked the Samoans after all those years and other travels…and they liked her.

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[NOTE: While I've kept my notes all these years, I apolgize for the quality of the photos: I long ago lost the negatives at some point, and had to scan the small snap-shots that Les Forester developed and printed for me one evening in his darkroom at Mapusaga High School soon after this experience.]