The route from Tafuna to downtown Fagatogo ran for seven miles along the edge of the island, with ocean on one side and mountain on the other.
After a few days, the family was beginning to feel a little more acclimated. Everyone had caught up on their sleep and the overwhelming sense of strangeness was starting to fade just a bit, although the children still kept trying to go into the wrong houses. School would not start for a few more weeks and the household goods weren’t expected until next month, so Jean was kept busy trying to keep the gang occupied with very few props. She thought about falling back on an old standby – mosaic pictures made out of dried peas and beans – but the cost of food was so exorbitant that it seemed wasteful. As an alternative, she signed the girls up for siva lessons so they could experience the culture firsthand.
The Samoan Letters 