Doing Business in Samoa

04/20/08

Learning how business is done in Samoa can be a perplexing experience. It is hard the fathom a business whose main objective is not to earn a profit. Yet in Samoa it seems earning a profit has a low priority. There are so many other things that come before what we accept as good business practices. My Western trained mind is just befuddled with trying to understand how Samoan business operates.

The first befuddlement is one’s word. In business when you say you are going to do something, you do it. In Samoa, “I will do it this afternoon” may mean a hundred things.
Of which the least likely is it being done this afternoon. You never know what is said will be done without knowing all the possible diversions between now and then.

The second befuddlement is price. To me price should have some relationship with the cost of doing business. Not so in Samoa. Pricing is based on getting some money. If you sell something for less than it costs to make, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is you end up with some money in your hand.

The third befuddlement is the value of labor. Your labor, working for money, has little value compared to church work, yard work, or weaving mats. When you do work for money, there is little difference between working hard and putting in your time. Missing work for any number of reasons is accepted practice.

The fourth befuddlement is objectives. This is truly foreign to most Samoans. For example, last Saturday my plan was to turnover a garden bed for replanting. I couldn’t call it a day because I had not finished my task. I went out at the end of the day and did it. This behavior is difficult for others to comprehend. If not done, it would have to wait until Monday; Sunday is a day when no work is done. If the sun was out, wait until clouds. If rainy, wait until the earth dries. Early afternoons, during the heat of the day, are for resting. Late afternoon is for prayers and talking a shower. It really doesn’t matter what it is, objectives are strictly a white person thing.

If I think Samoan ways are strange, certainly they think mine are too. How can a white middle class wage earner understand subsistence level living where the concepts I hold dear are unknown or considered less important? How can I possibly grasp a life where money is not the central focus of living? Yet Samoans do want and need money, but not to the same extent we do. I sense my garden is becoming the site where our two worlds meet. It may be the common ground to transcend our cultural differences; a place to ease both of our befuddlements.