The strangest things can become normal. It just takes some time.

I catch rain water to wash my face. Twice a day I boil water to drink. I plug the burner into the wall and use the frying pan to make toast. I ride the bus for 30 minutes just to drop a letter off at the post office. On several occasions my friends and I have climbed into the bed of a pickup and hitchhiked. I pay a dollar and ten cents for a loaf of freshly baked bread. I keep all food items except crackers and canned goods in the refrigerator, away from the ants. When I see a stick bug I let it walk on my hands and arms. I feel scandalized if I see a girl in a tiny tank top and short shorts (put some clothes on woman!). I teach my Samoan students how to say “I love you” in Spanish and French. I’m fortunate enough to have hot water, but I rarely use it when I shower. I often have to call someone five times before I can get through. I chase frogs out of my house, and welcome the geckos running up and down the walls because they eat the bugs. Drinking my favorite coffee and reading a magazine is a luxury reserved for a lazy Sunday morning. I often wrap a bright piece of fabric around my waist and stick fake flowers in my hair. If the temperature drops below 80 degrees I feel cold. Whatever plans I make are usually tentative and almost always change. I carry my umbrella even on sunny days because rain is inevitable. If the bus is getting crowded, I sit on my friend’s lap to make room for someone else. I raise my eyebrows in agreement and I answer to “Miss”. 

T. I. S.

This Is Samoa.