L-R: New Zealand-born Samoan Upolu Pouono pictured with friends Moana Solomona and Sa Tapaleao at the Independence Day parade in Samoa in 2017. Photo / Supplied
L-R: New Zealand-born Samoan Upolu Pouono pictured with friends Moana Solomona and Sa Tapaleao at the Independence Day parade in Samoa in 2017. Photo / Supplied
As the phone stops ringing, the voice on the other end of the line quickly rattles off a no-doubt overused sentence in perfect Samoan - albeit with the hint of a Kiwi accent.
"Talofa, saunoa mai, o Upolu." (Hello, speak to me, it's Upolu).
It has been seven years since Upolu Pouono - once a self-proclaimed proud Westie - left the sometimes grey skies of Auckland for the paradise that is her motherland of Samoa.
By her early 30s, both her parents had died and her siblings now had families of their own.
"When I was little, I'd come to Samoa nearly every year with mum and dad and I loved it. But when we'd come back to New Zealand, it was always that feeling: 'Oh, back to reality'.
In 2015, with no idea what she would do for a job in Samoa, she was on a one-way flight to her new permanent island home.
Born and raised in West Auckland, Pouono went to Massey High School before attending the University of Auckland where she studied and completed a Bachelor of Anthropology and, in later years, a Graduate Diploma of Theology.
The study of people and in particular, Pacific peoples, had always been one of her interests.
"Take a look at the migration of our parents from Samoa and how they had to create their own communities there in the early 70s."
She talks about those early beginnings not only for her parents, Tonumailau Ioane and Elisapeta Pouono, but for those then Samoan and Pacific young people who gave up their lives in the islands in search of the promised blessings in the land of milk and honey.
Upolu Pouono's parents, Tonumailau and Elisapeta Pouono, migrated from Samoa to New Zealand and raised their children here. Photo / Supplied
Upolu Pouono pictured at the graves of her parents, Tonumailau and Elisapeta Pouono, in Auckland. Photo / Supplied
For Pouono, her reverse migration to Samoa has opened her eyes, somewhat, to what her parents may have gone through and the differences in Samoans who grew up in the motherland and those such as herself, who grew up in New Zealand or overseas.
Her parents were big on fa'asamoa (Samoan culture) and everything that word entails - the language, cultural protocol and custom, she says.
"Just things that we grew up knowing and were taught to do and not to do. Like for the boys at church to know the va (sacred relationship or space) between them and the girls.
"The boys know they always eat last and they know their role in the church.
"Moving here, I see where stuff like that doesn't happen. E eseese a faleaoga," she says - the last line acknowledging the differences in ways people are brought up.
Island life: Riding on the back of a pick-up and fa'asamoa
Her Samoan has improved markedly over the years, but she is still learning.
"I moved over and thought I was fluent - according to the New Zealand-born measure. But it did not match up to the level of fluency here in Samoa.
Pouono is a Judge's Associate for the Ministry of Justice and Courts Administration.
"At my workplace, it's very formal in terms of interactions between people and also the language used."
There are aspects of Samoan life that she has had to adapt to - including riding on the back of a pick-up truck, understanding that a lunch break is longer than a New Zealand lunch break and that everyone most likely knows your entire background and family history already.
Upolu Pouono (second from left) with her work colleagues in Samoa. Photo / Supplied
"In New Zealand, there's privacy. But here, everyone wants to know what you do and who you're with. If you bring lunch from home - expect to share it.
"Samoa's really accommodating when it comes to fa'alavelave (family obligations).
"When someone says there's been a death in the family, everyone accepts it and they know that person will be away for a while because they're going to find money for the fa'alavelave (donating money to contribute to large occasions)."
Being on an island also means understanding there will be random power cuts and shortages of items due to a cargo ship being delayed.
"I've been to Maccas once when I got a Big Mac combo - already a luxury in itself because of the cost here - and the girl at the counter was saying sorry there's no sauce because the shipment is late.
"The only thing I could ask was: 'How can you have a Big Mac without the special sauce? It's just a bun'," she laughs.
Reflecting on her time in Samoa, she says her late father, in particular, would have been thrilled.
"I don't think he would've been surprised. I'm just grateful for the way I was raised, because the values my parents taught us have helped me in my life here."
