Returning Home

Returning Home

After seeing a centipede (At least I think it was a centipede) that was at least 7 inches long, several cockroaches scurrying across the floor, and pili mo’o (the lizards that look they are a glow in the dark color) galore, I began to reflect on my chat with Elisa today.

I went to visit Elisa to pick up my mail.  In the transition of our mail being switched to being picked up at a different post office, we are helping each other pick up mail whenever we can.  I like it because it give me a good excuse to go out and get some fresh air (and speak English). 

Elisa asked what my plans were when I return home.  I told her I plan to eat.  After eating such a starchy diet for such a long time, it will be nice to have more choices besides chicken or chicken.  (There is fresh fish often enough-but it is amazing how often chicken is served on the table.)

I was then asked for what I really wanted to do, no holding back. 

We talked about trying to go to a spa to clean ourselves….and wondered do they offer a “demoldify” treatment?  With so much of our clothes molding, us getting ill from mold, it often feels as if we too are molding (and when I was turning green 2 weeks ago, that was the first thought going on in my head). 

We then talked about what we would bring home.  I told her my computer, some pulatasis, and have my amazing seamstress make some “palagi” clothes for me to wear out in America.  Books-nope.  CD’s and DVD’s no way.  Clothes-Are you kidding me?  Why bring molding clothes to America?

I then confessed to her.  I am terrified to go back to America.  It is such a different world that I don’t think I am ready for in 7 months.  The fact that I would probably be visiting my family in New York around the holidays right away is terrifying.  Having to get replacement clothes from not living in NY for over 10 years, during the crazy shopping of Christmas in NY.  It sounds miserable.  (It is hard to imagine that not too long ago I lived for this stuff.)

We then talked about how we are changing, and not just in hair length (as to Samoan culture, ours both have  gotten long).  Would our friends be able to recognize us when we get back?   Will we mesh well with  everyone who has been in our lives for so long?  Will Backstreet Boys still be on our playlists? 

Just 7 more months…

Only 7 more months….

Wow, time is just flying by. 

I left the bathroom where I saw all of those creatures, and thought of my cats in Colorado.  Last month, Albert had given my sister the first present of the year, a nice garden snake.  He would be having a field day with all the creatures we have here.  I am just hoping I don’t have any acting as a stowaway for him to find when I come back.

In only 7 months…