Its Saturday night and my neighbors are having a wild-scream-their-heads-off-swear F_U at-the-top-of-their-lungs party. (I never knew there were so many different ways to use the F-word….till now.) There are teenagers running up and down the side driveway past my bedroom window shouting and throwing stuff at each other. (and i want to yell…’i hope you trip over, crack your heads and die’ but that would be very unkind.)
But I am slightly befuddled. Because my neighbors are Samoan. I regularly see an elderly gentleman walk to the mailbox every morning. Distiguished and sedate.And on New Year’s Eve, they invited my son to go to midnight church with them. And they told me they ‘recently’ moved here from the islands. I cannot reconcile that with the raucous beer-swilling orgy that is going on right now…maybe the dignified senior gentleman has gone away for the weekend?
I dont get it. And I miss Samoa. If we were back home, someone would surely have stoned these peoples roof by now.
Cant believe Im nostalgic for roof-stone-throwers.