The Samoa Seduction

by Alan L. Moss

  After Claire asked a number of questions to clarify how the certificate would be applied, Pecura called on Eni. The Samoan made his point, his voice shaking with anger

  “Mr. Chairman, I believe this tax certificate violates the laws of the United States and should be proclaimed invalid. I know the feeling of being at the mercy of another. We in Samoa are at the mercy of Filet of the Ocean. The provisions of this certificate are intended to limit the rightful wage increases of ladies who stand on their feet all day cleaning fish for this giant corporation. We cannot let the cannery keep its workers in poverty while the tuna corporation makes millions.”

  Again, the Samoan had read the situation perfectly. Although Pecura brushed him off, indicating the legality of considering the certificate would be fully explored before the Committee went into deliberations, Eni had raised the pertinent question. Would the rates be determined by law or by a contrived deal struck by the tuna cannery, their attorneys, and the Samoan government? Did the Committee or the cannery control the process?

  AFTERNOON SESSION

  PUBLIC TESTIMONY

  After a panel of American Samoan Government officials attempted to reinforce the need to limit any minimum wage increase to two percent, it was time for the hearings to provide an opportunity for the public to have its say. One recurring complaint about the process had been while tuna corporation executives, government officers, and members of the Chamber of Commerce participated in the hearings, it was difficult to get Samoa’s working class to testify. Certainly, employees of the cannery were not going to take time off from work to speak publicly about their wages.

  Michael hoped the Samoan Teachers Association would testify last, ending the hearings with teachers appealing in the interest of the Territory’s young people for decent wages for their parents. His hopes were dashed.

  Due to a medical appointment, the group asked to be the first public speakers. Then, instead of representing the interests of youth and the wages of their parents, their presentation focused on higher salaries for Samoa’s teachers.

  Given that teachers are professionals who are not covered by minimum wage requirements, their impassioned pleas for higher salaries, though legitimate, were out of place. When Pecura pointed that out as diplomatically as he could, the teachers countered by saying how thrilled Dr. Bloom was to have them testify.

  If this was how the final session was going to go, Michael thought, he should pull the fire alarm and end the hearings immediately.

  After a panel from the Chamber of Commerce advocated determination of wages by free market forces, the next witness was the editor and publisher of the Samoa Press, Lawrence Wolfson. With confidence backed by the power of the press, Wolfson delivered a rambling oratory about Samoa and its minimum wage.

  “This Committee process is an exercise in blind-man’s bluff. In fact, many of us are angry that we have to justify ourselves to a Committee every two years. On the other hand, I’d be even more scared if your Committee didn’t exist.”

  “Just be careful not to price us out of the economic development market. And while the Samoan Government puts up a good front, know that its primary objective is to maximize its own employment.

  “It’s true that poverty exists in American Samoa, but people enjoy a pleasant way of life. At the same time, I wouldn’t want to live on the three dollar and twenty cent minimum wage. Know, however, that if you tip the balance the wrong way you could start a forest fire down here.”

  As Chairman Pecura questioned Wolfson, Michael looked to the gallery and saw the spectators filing out. They assumed the public’s testimony would be complete after Wolfson finished and the rest of the session would be devoted to closing formalities.

  However, a lone figure remained, a Samoan woman Michael recalled seeing in the gallery throughout the hearings. At first, he thought she worked for the Samoa Press or the tuna executives, but now he wasn’t sure. Her clothing seemed worn and her face looked tense and disoriented.

  After Wolfson left the podium, Pecura again took the floor.

  “With no more members of the public on our agenda, I’m ready to close this final session of the hearings.”

  Looking at Michael, he continued.

  “Has everyone who wished to testify had the opportunity?”

  Inexplicably, Michael hesitated and looked to the gallery. After a few difficult seconds, his mystery woman raised her hand.

  Looking up to the balcony from the conference table below, Michael addressed her.

  “Yes, ma’am, would you like to testify?”

  After another uncomfortable pause, she stood and responded in a soft but clearly heard voice.

  “Yes, I would like to speak.”

  Michael answered immediately.

  “Ma’am, please take your time and make your way to the floor and the podium. You may begin when you are ready.”

  Michael looked across the table at Owen. He saw dread in the tuna attorney’s eyes.

  The woman moved slowly down the stairway, gripping the handrail. Those sitting around the table sensed she would offer a different kind of presentation.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the woman moved to the podium. She must have been in her thirties and wore a loosely fitting lavalava. She was slender with dark rings under her eyes. Her hands shook.

  As gently as he could, Pecura tried to lead the woman into her testimony.

  “Ma’am, we want to thank you in advance for sharing your thoughts with us. Could you, for the record, tell us who you are?”

  Before she could answer, Claire rose and walked around the table to the woman’s side. With a reassuring smile, the government attorney poured a glass of water for the unknown witness and returned to her place.

  After taking a generous drink, the woman began.

  Lydia Gabriel

  “My name is Lydia Gabriel. I am an American Samoan and a resident of the Village of Leone. I am a clerk at Cost-U-Less and my family attends the Congregational Church.”

  As she spoke, the tension in her voice and body covered those at the proceedings in a blanket of discomfort.

  “I always thought I was okay, that my life and the life of my family were proper. We followed the teachings of our church, contributed to our aiga, and followed the Samoan Way.

  “Now, I’m not so sure. Now, I think we are a lost people, a people crushed between the customs of the past and the requirements of a future we are not prepared to meet.

  “Exactly one week ago, I found my dear son Tino …”

  At this point, tears flowed down her face and she had to stop to drink again from the glass of water that became her well of courage.

  Lydia continued.

  “I found my son’s lifeless body hanging from a tree behind our house. He was twelve years old, twelve years old and the light of my life. He died because he could not face the cruelty of his father.”

  A hush went around the table. Worn by three days of difficult hearings and long hours, many people in the room could not subdue their own tears.

  “Tino tried to earn money for college because he heard me tell his father that to do well, our children need a real education, one beyond the public schools here. So, Tino, this little boy, set up a fruit and vegetable stand and began to put money away. When people from another village complained, his father, instead of complimenting Tino for his spirit and hard work, his father beat him, breaking his jaw and crushing his nose.

  “Why would a Samoan father destroy his own son this way? Believe me, he is not a bad person. He is a man who has worked hard and tried to provide for his family. But, given the jobs and wages in Samoa and the money it takes to keep our house, my husband and I can’t send our children to college, even to the community college on the Island. And so, my husband took his frustrations out on Tino.

  “I told myself that I would interrupt my mourning and come to your hearings to see if maybe I could learn enough to understand why my son is dead, why Samoans can’t earn a decent livin
g.”

  The woman paused, trying to put her final thoughts together. Slowly, she looked around the room, making eye contact with each Committee member.

  “Yet, after listening here, I still don’t understand. But I want all of you to know that a price is paid. It’s not just in the numbers that you have been discussing. It is in the dispirited fathers, abused women and children, and suicides that come from the poverty that has fallen on our Island.”

  Wiping tears from her eyes, Lydia finished, revealing the charity of her spirit.

  “God bless each of you. Thank you for letting me speak.”

  Fighting to keep his composure, the Chairman thanked Lydia for her bravery and offered her everyone’s condolences. Then, Pecura called for a five-minute break.

  During the brief recess, no one left their chairs or initiated conversations. Lydia had accomplished what no one else could. She refocused the debate on real people. A boy hanging lifeless from a tree behind his house would multiply the weight of the deliberations.

  When Pecura called the proceedings to order, the Congressman, sensing it was time to go, thanked the Committee and staff members for allowing him the privilege of participating in the hearings. He said he had learned much in the past three days and would go back to Washington and think about how the process could be improved.

  “If the testimony of Mrs. Gabriel is not enough to motivate us to fix this problem, then, it will never be solved.”

  Pecora thanked the Congressman and closed the proceedings.

  “I’d like to thank my fellow members of this Committee. None of you, none of us requested to be in this position. We were asked to serve and many of us sacrificed a good amount to come a long way because we wanted to contribute to this process. I appreciate everyone who has participated.

  “I’d also like to thank our two staff members who have done a terrific amount of work and a tremendous job, including standing up to tough questioning. Michael and Claire, we couldn’t have done this without you and we owe you a deep debt of gratitude. We appreciate your efforts and are impressed with your talents.

  “We will meet here tomorrow to begin our deliberations at 10:00 AM. This hearing is adjourned.”

  Pecura packed his papers in his briefcase. Several members of the Committee approached and thanked him for his impartial leadership.

  Walking to his rental car, Pecura strolled to the water’s edge, looking out over the harbor. As intended, he established a strong record of objectivity.

  During the deliberations to come, could he ignore his pledge to do what’s right for Samoa’s workers, for Lydia Gabriel’s dead son? If he was going to deliver Matautu’s two percent increase and the sixty million dollars that would follow, he would have to betray the people he pledged to help.

  ***

  Driving to Larry’s for dinner with Claire and the Redferds, Michael grappled with the idea of being home in a few days. Once there, he would try to rebuild his relationship with Karen. After Lisa’s wedding, they would spend their weekends investigating areas where they might retire, where they could begin to enjoy the slower pace they craved.

  The hearings had been a success in Michael’s view. The work of his team, his own performance, and Eni’s contributions had communicated the important points. The unexpected testimony of Lydia Gabriel provided a first-hand account of how the Island’s poverty touched individual Samoans.

  Still, he wondered if the tax certificate would sidetrack the Committee. In any case, the final outcome was up to them.

  Dinner at Larry’s was a bust. It was so late the service was slow and the restaurant was out of their favorite entrees. Close to eleven o’clock, Michael approached his room at the Parrot and Porpoise. There was no light under the door and no seductive scent from Stephanie’s perfume. He opened the door and flipped on the light to find an envelope on what had been her pillow.

  Worn out, Michael placed his briefcase on the floor and lay down on the bed. He detected a faint fragrance from her previous visits and his mind wandered into the soft avenues of her body.

  He opened the envelope and began to read.

  My Dearest Michael,

  Please forgive me but I need some time to better understand how I feel about you. Although I want you very much, my first concern is for my babies and the life we all will live in the future. I will see you tomorrow night.

  Love always,

  Stephanie

  Michael had no trouble understanding the note’s significance. Stephanie had lost a child on this Island due to its inadequate medical facilities. She was a bright and attractive lady by anyone’s standards. With her marriage on the rocks, why should she stay in Samoa and limit her potential and the promise of her children? Tomorrow night, he would encourage her to find a better life, but a life without him.

  POST-HEARINGS EPISODES

  June 9, 2001 – June 12, 2001

  CHAPTER 44

  INITIATING DELIBERATIONS

  June 9, 2001

  Pago Pago, American Samoa

  Michael, Claire, and the Redferds enjoyed a breakfast of banana pancakes at Pago Pago’s Prince Diner. When they arrived at the Fono, they joined the rest of the Committee in the large conference room. Interrupting quiet conversations among the members, Michael asked for their attention. He wasn’t going to waste his last chance to shape their perspective. Sitting on the edge of the conference table, he appealed to their sense of propriety.

  “The difficulty of your job is best displayed by the testimony of one witness, Lawrence Wolfson, editor and publisher of the Samoa Press. In his testimony, he called the minimum wage process an exercise in blind-man’s bluff. He asked you not to price the Island out of the economic development market. He admitted poverty exists in American Samoa and said he wouldn’t like to live on the three dollar and twenty cent minimum wage; but, he also said Samoans enjoy a pleasant way of life.”

  Michael took a sip of coffee.

  “He warned that you could start a forest fire down here, but said that not having the Committee would scare him even more.”

  Michael ran his hand through his hair.

  “What’s my point? This subject is complex with contradictions and bends in the road. In my judgment, the only way to reach a proper decision is to stick to the law and Regulations, evaluate the criteria set out in those rules and make your recommendations based upon sound data and conclusions.”

  “By the way,” Claire interrupted, “you will not find a reference to tax exemption certificates in either the Fair Labor Standards Act or its Regulations.”

  Michael continued: “Of course, employers will tell you they can’t afford an increase in the minimum wage. The important question is whether or not the evidence substantiates such contentions. Have they produced financial records clearly showing that their modest profits would be eliminated by a wage increase, or have they reduced employment in response to previous minimum wage increases? These are the factors I would encourage you to consider.

  “In closing, I don’t think any of you will be able to determine Samoa’s minimum wage without considering the heart wrenching testimony of Lydia Gabriel. That’s as it should be. As Mrs. Gabriel said, setting a minimum wage is not about numbers, it’s about people and what we can do to eradicate the poverty facing this Island.”

  Michael told the Committee he and Claire would be in the Senate President’s office drafting sections of their final report. Once the Committee made its determination, the new rate would complete the report. Throughout the day, they would be available to answer questions.

  ***

  As Michael and Claire made their way to the office, Chairman Pecura escorted the members into a small conference room across a courtyard. Copies of the pre-hearing statements and the Samoa Economic Report were stacked in one corner. With the group seated around the table, Pecura tried to get them organized.

  “I’d like to suggest a way to proceed and if any of you want to modify my model, I’ll gladly entertain your ideas
. It’s ten thirty-seven and I suggest we spend the remaining hours of the morning, let’s say until one this afternoon, reviewing the Samoa Economic Report, pre-hearing statements, and the hearing exhibits. Legal pads and pens are on the table for your use.

  “At one, why don’t we discuss what each of us thinks are the key pieces of evidence and how we should interpret that information? After that discussion, we could entertain proposals for how the rate might be increased. Then, we can vote on the proposals until we have a majority.

  “Are there any ideas on a different way to proceed?”

  Bill Echaveste shifted in his chair. “Are you assuming the minimum wage will be increased?”

  Pecura finished a mug of coffee.

  “Well, we’re not permitted to cut the rate, but I suppose we could recommend no increase, if that’s agreed to by a majority of the Committee.”

  Hearing no further suggestions, most of the Committee members began studying their notes from the hearings and reviewing the Samoa Economic Report, pre-hearing statements, and exhibits from the hearings. Quietly, they began discussing questions of fact.

  Echaveste thumbed through his notes and left the room to smoke a cigarette. Looking out the window, Eni saw Echaveste speaking to Owen, sitting on a bench in the courtyard.

  CHAPTER 45

  CLOSING THE LOOP

  June 9, 2001

  Pago Pago, American Samoa

  Ianita Lauvao was ready to go to lunch more than a half hour ago. That was her routine. She would get into the office by eight fifteen, go through the mail, process whatever was in her inbox, and be ready to serve her boss when he arrived for work at nine o’clock. By eleven thirty, she was tired and would go to lunch with her best friend, Maria Ta’ala, who worked just down the hall.