Early last week I had several of my clothes disappear from my clothes line. I discovered a few of them on the body of the village security guard. Hilarity ensued.
Later that week I was called over to my landlord's house (conveniently no more than 30 metres away) and I was formally presented with my clothing and an apology on behalf of the security guard, his family and the landlord's family. It was an interesting moment of fa'asamoa.
Anyway, the end result of all of this was that not only did I have confirmation that someone liked my clothing enough to pinch it off the line, I even had it returned. Fantastic!
Sadly, my dreams came crashing down this morning as I discovered that the security guard was in fact fairly critical of one item of clothing. Imagine my horror as I noticed that he'd "coughed his rompers". No. My rompers. Now imagine my horror at discovering this after I'd been wearing them for half a day!
That's one pair of shorts that won't be making the trip back to Australia with me.