March 7, 2013
The caption Jean added reads, “We were doing better than we looked.”
Larry pulled his shirt away from his sticky back as he headed into the house for dinner. After spending the day in the air-conditioned studio, he sometimes forgot just how humid it was until he stepped outside. He was reminded as soon as he saw his wife. Jean’s dress wrapped around her like a moist towelette and her dripping demeanor would put a damper on anyone’s mood. December was just a cruel word on the calendar here because the temperature didn’t get any lower – the dew point just got higher. Her pot banging seemed to be louder than usual, and Larry discovered why as he entered the dark house.
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December 9, 2012
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.
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The Samoan Letters 