This morning, as I left for work in a taxi (I'd missed the bus), I saw the village security guard (all villages with government housing employ security guards) walking down the road in a nice t-shirt and what looked like a comfortable pair of shorts. My t-shirt and shorts. I had to say something.
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Back in the taxi and somewhat bewildered, I asked the driver what had just transpired. He assured me that the security guard would wash and return my clothes tomorrow. It seems his threat of taking me immediately to the police (!) seems to have carried some weight in the conversation. Fair enough.
Still, my driver was not satisfied. He drove us down to the fale owned by the pulenu'u of my village to see if he was around. I assured him that it was unnecessary and that I would talk to my "landlord". Satisfied, he proceeded to drive me to my destination.
So, it seems that (at least some of) my clothes may be coming back to me after all. A pleasant surprise. I also take heart in the knowledge that at least one person out there approves of my taste in clothing. Result!
And as for the taxi driver, Fa'apine, well he's a legend. He stepped in to help me without a moment's hesitation. A typical demonstration of the amazing attitude of the overwhelming majority of people I've met in my time here. Fa'apine; fa'afetai tele lava sole. Ou te fa'amoemoe o lau Eagles e tatau ona manu malo i le vaiaso fou!
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