Chief Drop In
The other night I was sleeping—early, admittedly, about 9 p.m.—when the door opens and in comes the high chief, the man who brought me the can of corned beef on my first night. In tow, he had one of his attendants who carried his bag. I roused to greet him, a bit groggily but with all due respect.
Matafaa from across bay at Faleseela
It turns out that he had heard I was a vegetarian and came to deliver a more appropriate gift: a can of Spaghetti-O’s. Actually, as much as I love the local taro and palusami, that can, perched on the corner of my writing table, has been looking pretty tempting. I wonder if I should use a machete to open it.