3 Weeks Already

Photo from last night's fundraising concert

Hard to believe we’ve been here three weeks already.  Having said that it seems like we’ve been together for ages and we’re all ready to leave the confines of the hotel and move out to our training villages this weekend.  A new environment and new faces will be a welcome change for all of us.  It will also be good to be in an immersion situation, where I’m forced to speak Samoan on a regular basis.

A few of us were talking about homesickness the other day.  Two felt huge guilt because they aren’t feeling homesick.  It’s not that they don’t love the family and friends back home, just that we’ve been busy and so bombarded with “new” that it has filled the space where homesickness might take hold.

I miss friends, of course, but have been in touch via email and for me to be away 3 weeks is so common, I’m not feeling at all homesick.  I’d kill for a cheese enchilada, but other than that, all is good.  If you’re in San Francisco, please stop by Don Ramon's and have a plate of green enchiladas for me.  A margarita would be great, too.

There are moments when I realize I’m really not at home, though.  The other evening, walking to a restaurant, I was looking at the sky and noticed the con trails.  Huh?  Wait a minute, I see con trails from planes flying into Orlando.  There weren’t any here, it was just a cloud.  Last night, lying in bed, I heard a plane.  Wait!  A plan?  Now I know how Tattoo felt on Fantasy Island.  Da plane!  Da plane!

Yesterday in class, we heard a police siren.  The room became immediately silent as we each looked around.  It was the first siren we’ve heard since coming to Apia.  Well, except for the air raid type of siren that goes off every morning at 9 am.  Presumably a test for the siren to be used for emergencies like tsunamis.  And how young do you have to be to not know what an air raid siren is?  Or remember practicing crouching under our school desks in case of nuclear war.  That was misguided, at best.

I made a reference to the movie “10” the other day.  Nobody got it.  Bo Derek in cornrows, coming out of the water?  Blank looks.  Dudley Moore?  Nada.  Geesh.  I also mentioned Happy Days and Charlie's Angels.  More blank looks.  

We had both medical and safety and security presentations this morning.  Given everything we were told, I’m ready to move back to the safety and security of the U.S.  But, then again, they described all the things that could happen, not the things that typically do happen.

Speaking of medical, I went on the Samoan Diet yesterday.  That’s what I’m calling it, when the stomach rebels and food is neither appealing or practical (if you get my drift).  Apparently, it’s the most common problem among volunteers.  Mine only lasted a day, so doubt if I lost much weight.

I did hear a rumor, from a very reliable source, who let a bit of information about my host family slip recently.  I think I’ll be very happy.  I don’t have details and we won’t know more until we’re officially told tomorrow.  Can’t wait.

Other things that remind me that I’m not at home.  Samoans only have a “borrowed” word for lettuce, because it isn’t common here.  Who knew one of my cravings would be for a head of iceberg.  Or pretty much any vegetables.  Being the in the host village, where our families will provide our meals rather than us foraging among fast food places will be another nice change.  One that will hopefully provide some green food.

Here's some video of talented fellow trainees.  They did a benefit concert last night to raise money for instruments, etc., for a youth orchestra in Apia.  In addition to the music and the kids, the highlight seemed to be the cupcakes at the reception following the concert.  Cupcakes are always a highlight.

Questions and Answers About Life in Samoa

Jamie, Mafi and Me.  They're PC staff.

Are there ants in Samoa?  Yes.  Actually, my computer is crawling with them right now.  I’ve heard they like to eat the silicon inside the computer.  If you have any ideas on how to kill the current infestation, I’ll begin storing my laptop in a giant ziplock bag.

Do Samoans speak with their eyebrows? Yes.  When they lift their eyebrows, they mean “yes”.  I must be cautious with facial expressions.

Do you miss television?  I have not seen television in 3 weeks.  Shockingly, I haven't missed it at all.  I fill the time trying to remember how to say "Is there any toilet paper?" in Samoan.  I'd write it here but can't remember it.  Does not bode well for when I move to the village Saturday.

Are Samoans as direct as Americans?  Hard to say.  My limited experience shows that mostly they agree with whatever I say.  I’m fond of being agreed with, so it works for me.  If I’m asking about the next bus and they agree and are incorrect, I may be less happy.

Is Samoa a good place to retire?  Again, too soon to tell.  It is beautiful.  The weather is similar to Florida, except their version of “cold” is when it gets down to 70 degrees.  And, housing costs are a bit lower.  At least I think they are.  Real estate prices in Florida could have fallen again since I left home.

I can tell you that the whole “respect your elders” thing is true here.  With my fellow trainees, they’re respectful, but pretty much treat me like one of them.  Today, we did an exercise.  Most sat on the floor.  A few sat in chairs.  I didn’t feel like sitting on the floor so stood, since there were no more chairs available.  That wouldn’t happen if I was with a group of Samoans.  I’d get the seat. 

Consider the classic scene in Fried Green Tomatoes when Kathy Bates rams the VW repeatedly, after the “younger, faster” girls stole her parking spot.  Wouldn’t have to happen here.  I think that could be a big factor in planning retirement locations.

What do you want for Christmas?  Ok, this is a bit self-serving, and I realize it’s before Halloween, but it takes a long time for packages to arrive here.  What I’d really like is school supplies.  Stuff I can use to create exercises and keep the kids geeked up.  Stickers, temporary tattoos, markers, Crayons, etc. 

How was “mail call” today?  While we’re in Apia for training, mail is delivered to us twice a week, on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  It feels very much like camp, with one of the trainers calling out the names of who got mail and the excited recipients racing over to pick it up.  Two trainees got packages today.  I have received bupkis.  I know that stuff is in transit, so I have something to look forward to.  For the next 7 weeks, we’ll only have mail call once a week.

The majority of us haven’t received mail, so moms and dads out there, start writing and get those CARE packages in the mail.  I know that some of the trainees are sending snail mail and wouldn’t you feel horrible if you received a letter from Samoa before your child received something from home?  Yes, this was written to inspire guilt.  If it helps get your kids more mail, excellent.  If you feel really guilty and want to send me a letter, too, cool beans.  BTW, I can be bribed.  Parents, if you send me CARE packages, I’ll tell you every detail of what your child is doing here.  Please don’t let them know I wrote this.  They’ll never let me have a chair again.  Plus, I won’t be invited to any more parties.

Do you miss the mimeograph machine you used in 1972?  Yes.  In 1972 I thought it was an annoyance and my hands turned purple every time I made copies of handouts for my students.  Now, it would be a beautiful thing, since we have no access to copy machines or printers.  Trainees have some cool hardcopy materials but to copy them, we have to do it the really old fashioned way, by hand.  I’m considering dressing like a monk and doing it by candlelight.

When can you have visitors?  The rule is I can't travel and shouldn't have visitors for my first six months, so that takes us out to March or so.  The best season to visit is apparently winter (summer, in the U.S.) since that's when the weather is perfect.  Hopefully, I'll have a calendar this week of dates I won't be working.  I'll share that as soon as possible.  Thanks for asking, Paula!  I hope more of you are planning to visit, too.

Are you still cranky?  No.  I slept like a rock last night and feel like a new woman.  I mean, I’m always a little bit cranky, but had no desire to hurt anyone today.  By the way, thanks to an email from Kit, a RPCV who was in Samoa in the 1970's with her husband when they were just out of college, the word for cranky in Samoan is "musu".  I'll try to avoid being known as Miss Musu Pants.

Danny and Sam

My man, Mica.  He's a sweetheart.

Cranky in Paradise

I'm having my first cranky day here in paradise.  Lots of reasons, none of them worth being cranky over.  Certainly not worth writing about.  But I will anyway.  Imagine moving from the lap of U.S. luxury where your friends are over 50 and you're not with them 24/7.  Then imagine trying to learn 30-50 new words a day in a language that looks like Sesame Street lost it's consonants. It can be cranky making.   Like I said, nothing really wrong, just looking forward to a better night's sleep tonight and a brighter smile tomorrow.

The good news, I was finally able to load my video of the fiafia onto YouTube.  It was a good time and the video doesn't do it justice.  I also didn't get any photos of the food (so unlike me) but, hey, when you get that many PC volunteers/trainees together, you do NOT hesitate when it comes to getting at the food.

Ok, I've finished my homework and I'm taking the night off from studying vocabulary.  I now can introduce myself, saying where I'm from and who my parents are; I can count to ten (if I peek at my notes); I can say the days of the week (no peeking required) and I can greet people, ask how they are, tell them how I am and say goodbye.  I've got tons of other words that I half know.

Tomorrow, I'll have to find out how to say "cranky" in Samoan.

A Quiet Aso Sa in Apia

Natalie, Chelsea and Sarah looked beautiful in their new puletasis at church

It’s Sunday (Aso sa) in Apia.  Sundays in Samoa are dedicated to church and rest and I’m taking full advantage.  7 of us went back to the Anglican church this morning.  It was youth day, so the youth group had prepared a special service of song, dances and skits.  They’d also asked us to perform (because we’re “youth”, sorta) five of us sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot”.  Not sure that Samoa is ready for our version of gospel, but it seemed well received.  We also joined in the fellowship afterwards, and got to meet some people while scarfing down some homemade goodies. 

I realized I was in Samoa when I received communion from a barefoot priest. 

After getting back to the hotel, a gang decided to head out to find an open restaurant.  Very few stores or restaurants on Sunday, because it is a day to attend church, then eat a huge meal with family, then nap away the rest of the day.  I was going to join in the hunt, since I’d only nibbled at the church food, but it started to rain, so I headed next door to KK to buy lunch supplies.  KK is a Chinese/Samoan store that seems to always be open and stocks pretty much everything we need, at reasonable prices.  The fact that it is literally next door makes it even better.

I bought the essentials for a comfort meal:  tuna, noodles, cream of mushroom soup and frozen peas.  I whipped up the casserole and shared with another hungry trainee.  People seemed to be impressed.  I don’t really think much about the varying levels of our life experiences until people start asking how to make tuna casserole.  I thought everybody knew how.  Apparently not.  I wonder if they’ll also be impressed when I make goulash.  Or chile con carne verde?  Of course, I’ll have to sweet talk someone into shipping me green chiles.

After lunch, Chelsea and I did some laundry in our room, then she went out to socialize and I kicked back with my Kindle and the air-conditioning.  Now I’m playing on the computer.  Feeling a little guilty that I’m not studying my Samoan, but there’s always this evening.

In order to continue putting off my Samoan language studies, here are some more observations:

I read a quote today:  “The only animals Samoans like are the ones they eat.”  I don’t know if that’s true, but the concept of pets seems to be very different than in the U.S.  Dogs are used for protection, rather than affection, and there are a lot of them.  I’ve heard in some areas they tend to run in packs.  People commonly throw rocks to keep the dogs away.  In fact, it’s so common that dogs flinch if you just bend over.

So, I found it wildly amusing this morning to see the Animal Protection car drive slowly by this morning, followed closely by a band of dogs of varying sizes.  Were they hoping for protection from the rock throwers?  Hoping for a spay or neuter on the run?  I don’t know, but it’s the first time I’ve seen dogs here run after a car.

I mentioned KK Market earlier.  I’ve been to one other grocery store and they have most of the same types of items.  Because KK is smaller, it just has fewer of them.  Much of what I’d be looking for at a Florida grocery store is there, but there are some exceptions.  At KK, there is a small section (about the size of a school desk) dedicated to vegetables.  Today there were bell peppers, cucumbers and bok choy.  If you want to buy vegetables, they come in large packages, such as 5 giant cucumbers or 8 bell peppers. 

There’s an entire aisle of cookies and crackers.  But with the exception of a couple of giant bags of suckers (known as “lollies” here, due to the New Zealand influence) the only candy is of the penny variety that is on the checkout counter.  And it’s way more than a penny to buy.

Something else I noticed was where they stock the deodorant.  The good news, they sell a small variety of brands/types.  The difference is that they are behind the counter and you have to have a clerk fetch them for you.  Chelsea and I had a brief discussion as to why that is.  Hot item for shoplifting?  People don’t bother to buy it, if left on a regular aisle, they just walk and swipe it on?  Don’t know.

By the way, feel free to send snail mail now.  As of this coming Saturday, I’ll be off the grid for 7 weeks.  No email, no blog.  Sorry, but it’s the Peace Corps way.  I will be taking photos, though and keeping a journal so will fill you in as soon as I can.  Expect exciting stories of cold showers, Samoan language class melt downs and a description of everything I ate.

Now, I should go study vocabulary.  But, studying is work, right?  And working on Sunday goes against the Samoan culture.  I must do what I can to integrate into the culture.  I’ll get up early tomorrow to study.

Saturday in Samoa

Breakfast was a bit more subdued than usual today.  Some drifted next door to the KK Market to get a cold soda to help reduce the after effects of last night’s party.  Some settled for the standard toast and papaya. 

Fale introduced a slew of new words and phrases during language class.  The focus was on commands we’ll use in the classroom, so I’m highly incented to study.  I’m trying hard, but continue to struggle with rote memorization.  And the diacritical marks may do me in.  There’s the komaleliu (‘) and the fa’amamafa (-).  One indicates a glottal stop.  One indicates a prolonged vowel and can change which syllable is accented.  With me so far?  If you put the fa’amamafa or the komaleliu in the wrong spot, you could be saying a dirty word.  See why I’m struggling?

After class, five of us crammed into a small taxi to head downtown.  We were in search of the store of the seamstress who’d taken our measurements for puletasis.  A puletasi is a fitted tunic/skirt that Samoan women wear as business/formal attire.  The cab dropped us off right where we asked, but not where we needed to be.  So we took an easy stroll around the corner and up the street.  When I say “easy stroll”, I’m being sarcastic.  When you are in the shade and there is a breeze, it is lovely.  When you’re plodding along in direct sun and humidity, it’s like being at Disney World in August.  Some of us strolled about ½ mile further than we needed to, but eventually we all got to the right place.  I picked up the lava lava that I’d given them to hem last week.  Sarah modeled the puletasi she had made.  She looks gorgeous in it.  My puletasi should be ready next Friday afternoon.

By then it was about 1:30 pm and I was hot and hungry.   Even though technically I could live through a long winter on my store of fat, when I go too long without food, I get cranky.  So, when the discussions began about where to have lunch or should we shop some more first, I bailed and set out on my own.

I stopped first at MacDonald’s.  Not because I wanted to eat there (although I guarantee I will sometime over the next two years) but because I was curious about prices and menu.  I didn’t see the whole menu, because I was staggered at the prices.  $16 for a burger?  That does not include fries.  That’s not a Big Mac.  I could have 4 large meals at DeAl for $16.  I’ll have to have a serious hankerin’ to pay those prices.

I kept walking and came across a family selling their barbecued chicken and lamb.  $8 for a plate of delicious food.  Admittedly, it was a little risky, given the heat and the mayo in the coleslaw and macaroni salad, but it was tasty and I seem to be suffering no ill effects. 

Now, it’s 6:30 pm and I’m thinking about dinner.  It may appear that I only think about food and money.  Actually, that is what I think about when not worrying about Samoan vocabulary.  But it really isn’t all I think about.  Other things include:

Wondering who decided to put the slogan “slippery when wet” on the condoms in our PC medical kits?

How did the lady in the Laundromat know my name? We’ve been told that everyone is related and the coconut wireless is amazing, so did she hear about me from someone else?  Is this how Paris Hilton feels?

Why can we hear thunder but never see lightening here?  We’ve had some humdinger rainstorms.  I love them because it sounds good and cools the air.  But where is the lightening hiding.  It must be there for there to be thunder, right?  Please tell them not to let me teach science.

I still have a lot of clothes I haven’t worn.  They smell and I don’t mean that in a good way.  It’s not that humid and I haven’t put dirty clothes next to clean clothes, which is the laundry equivalent of kitchen cross-contamination caused by using the same knife for raw chicken and vegetables.  I know better.  So why do my clean, never-out-of-the-suitcase from Florida clothes reek?  I’ve begun wiping myself off with a dryer sheet before I leave the house, so I can smell spring time fresh.

As if Samoan wasn’t hard enough, my Spanish is getting in the way.  I say something correctly and my teacher says Malo!  Which means “bad” in Spanish.  I’m conflicted by her praise.  Today, I had to read a list of words and one was “puta”.  Not a word normally taught to “nice” girls. 

The rain has slowed and I’m heading out to KK to get something for dinner.  Perhaps the makings for a tuna sandwich.  Or some noodle ramen.  Eat your hearts out in America.  Here in Apia it’s Saturday night and I’m living large.

Fabulous Fiafia

Rachael, Lindsey, Jenny, Karen (all Group 83) and Blakey (Group 81, who's staying for another year)

Huge thanks to the volunteers in Groups 81 and 82!  They threw a party (fiafia) for us last night and it rocked.  It started informally with a cocktail party.  Ok, it was a very informal cocktail party that involved coconut vodka, Jaeger Bombs and Vailimia, shared while moving from one hotel room to another and helping each other put on make-up.

After cocktails, everyone gathered in the conference room where we have training.  That’s when the real party began.  Spirits were high and the entertainment was stellar.  We started with our Group, 83, introducing ourselves.  I announced “I’m Nancy and I’m from Orlando.  I get a lot of respect.”  I got cheers, since everyone knows that in Samoa, the older you are the more respect you get.  At one point I felt like I was at the Miss America pageant, since cheers went up as people announced their home state.  Colorado got the most cheers, by the way. 

Matt, Group 81 (world famous for his blog), created a really well done slideshow to introduce us to the volunteers of Groups 81 & 82.  Terrific music, photos and humorous comments.

Two volunteers sang the Samoan National Anthem – they were excellent.  I’d tell you their names, but I was at a cocktail party, remember?  Group 81 did a slap dance, which involves women and shirtless men, slathered in coconut oil, slapping themselves silly, with the rhythm getting increasingly faster.  Who wouldn’t like that?

The women of Group 82 then performed a beautiful dance that they first performed as a thank you to their training host families a year ago.  Nicely done, ladies!

Blakey performed a traditional dance that I can’t remember the name of.  It’s normally done by the daughter of the High Chief and since Blakey’s host dad in training was the High Chief she had the opportunity to learn and perform the dance then.  Fiafias are used in some villages to raise money and this is an example of how they do it.  Blakely was drenched in oil and audience members ran up to slap tala bills on her.  The oil makes it stick.  I’m not sure of the symbolism of having the man lie on the floor (and a woman, in this case) and letting Blakey step on him/her.  I have some ideas, but since they’re humorous but inappropriate, I’ll leave it alone. Information appreciated.

I think everyone will agree that when we moved downstairs to the pool, anticipation was in the air because it was time for FIRE!  I expected one guy, twirling a fire baton, but it was way better than that.  It was a mix of men dancing – and I’m not talking ballroom here.  I’m talking testosterone fueled, macho dancing.  First one guy was doing the fire dance, which was amazing.  Then a couple more fire dancers joined him and it was outstanding.  We were all screaming, whistling and applauding, while the drums pounded and the fire dancers performed.  Outstanding.  Really.  Worth the ten hour plane ride.

Group 81 was then asked to stand together so they could be serenaded by PC staff.  A bittersweet moment.  We’re on a newbie high, with two long years stretching out in front of us.  Group 81, however, are the veterans, wrapping up their time here. 

The evening didn’t end there, though.  The current volunteers had put together a potluck for us, so we traipsed back upstairs to chow down.  Following Samoan custom , because we were guests Group 83 got to fill our plates first, to make sure we got the best food.  We were not shy.  Pizza.  Homemade tortillas.  Some awesome casseroles.  Raw vegetables, cakes, brownies and ice cream rounded out the feast.

There was terrific conversation while we ate, with us newbies pumping the experienced volunteers for stories and advice.

Most of the group headed out to a bar down the block to continue the party.  I would have gone, but knew that language class would be starting bright and early.  I struggle on a good day.  I wouldn’t want to face Samoan vocabulary with a hangover.

Next year, our Group will be responsible for planning the fiafia for Group 84.  I hope we can come even close to the amazing party that they put on for us.  We felt welcomed.  We laughed a lot.  And, we got to blow off some steam, which felt really good after an intense couple of weeks.  Thanks, guys.  We really feel like part of the Peace Corps Samoa family!

Chris and Michael, rocking their lava lavas

Pat and Chris

Me (with the new look of no makeup except lipstick and no blowdry) and Blakey

Katie and Natalie

Chris and his wife, Rivka.  Does she not look like Aletha???

Kellye, PC staff on the right and a woman whose name I didn't catch - sorry!

Jamie (training manager on loan from PC Belize) and Mafi, TESL training manager, who I adore

More PC Staff - Hector, on loan from PC El Salvador and on the right, our cashier, on loan from Thailand

Another Friday in Apia

Our hotel room in Apia. By European standards, it's spacious.

It’s 5:00 pm in Apia and I’m sitting in my air-conditioned room, waiting for the fiafia to start at 6:30.  I’ve been told it will involve food, drinking, dancing and a fire dancer.  Since it’s being held in the same room as our training, I’m a wee bit concerned about burning down the place, but am going with the flow.

Speaking of which, I’m pretty proud of how well I’ve been going with the flow so far.  Much of our experience so far has been relatively stress free and fun.  But still, for the last umpteen years, I’ve lived alone and worked alone.  Being tossed into a group of 20, with only one other person within decades of my age and having a 22 year-old roommate is a bit different.  Heck, when I travel with friends we always get separate hotel rooms.  The fact that my roommate hasn’t smothered me in my sleep is a testament to the “go with the flow” attitude I’ve adopted and the fact that she can sleep through anything, including my snoring.

The language training, which I dreaded is going much better than I expected.  My teacher, Fale, is patient, articulate and is using a variety of techniques and approaches to help us learn.  We had a pop quiz today and I got 13 out of 15.  Smack in the middle out of five of us.  And yes, I’m almost looking forward to four more hours of language training tomorrow, even though that means all the stores will be closed for the remainder of the weekend by the time we get out of class.

I dropped my dirty clothes off across the street to be washed today.  Everyone else is doing laundry in the sink,  but really, for a total of 18 tala for over a week’s worth of dirty clothes?  To have them completely dry and smelling like Downey?  It’s a luxury I’m willing to pay for.  It’s funny how we’re each managing our money.  I’m living on the cheap with occasional splurges on things like laundry or a meal out.  That’s allowing me to stash some money for either a big splurge or a rainy day.  Others are using every penny, knowing that another “pay day” will be coming. 

Some are treating themselves with food.  Cheese and peanut butter are both popular and fairly expensive.  Cookies and chips are also popular.  Chips are outrageously expensive here and I’m glad I don’t crave them.  Cookies, on the other hand, are relatively cheap and are my nighttime treat. Vailima, the local beer, is the indulgence of choice for others.  I’ve had a few and it is a nice way to relax after a long day of class. I’m already thinking about splurging for my 60^th birthday in a couple of weeks.  I’ll be in the village, so need to plan ahead.  My dream is a chilled gin martini and a rare grilled steak.  I’ll be happy with a Vailima and a hot dog.  If it turns out to be water and taro, I’ll get by. 

Speaking of food, 10 of us went out for Chinese food last night.  It was not cheap, especially if you got a large Vailima (Ms. Thrifty here abstained), but was delicious.  Chinese food seems to be ubiquitous, worldwide. The version here is similar to what we have in the States, which means when homesickness hits, I’ll be stopping by the Sunrise Restaurant.  The décor is also reminiscent of every Chinese restaurant I’ve ever been to.  This one is a bit on the upscale side, which is a nice alternative to the places we’ve been eating so far.

Some other observations on a beautiful Friday afternoon:

I’ve gotten used to the bells that clang outside our room every morning.  To me, they just signal it’s 5 am and I can go back to sleep.  I suspect to locals, they signal prayers.

The cats here seem to be tiny.  I haven’t seen many, but the few I’ve seen are the size of half-grown kittens.  There are two who live in the hotel.  They liked me a lot at lunch when I opened a can of sardines.  My fellow trainees didn’t seem as thrilled with the smell.

I have dirty fingernails.  I shower at least once a day, sometimes twice.  I’m in a classroom, not doing gardening.  Yet, every time I look at my hands, my fingernails are filthy.  What’s up with that?

I’m very fond of the smell of burning trash.  It’s not constant or overwhelming.  Just a light scent in the breeze that combines with the perfume of flowers to create a unique and pleasant aroma.  Sarah pointed out that it probably contains carcinogens that will cause lung cancer.  I responded that by the time I’m exposed to that much, I’ll probably be dead anyway.  She acknowledged the point.

I was not flirting with the cab driver.  Somehow, I’ve developed the reputation as a flirt.  Or perhaps “most likely to marry a Samoan”.  Or trainee (I don’t think there’s enough Vailima on the island).  It is all a complete façade.  So last night when we arrived at the restaurant, everyone else hopped out and headed into the restaurant.  I lingered, not because the young Samoan driver was good looking (he was) but because I wanted to get his number in case we needed a ride home.  The fact that I captured it on video was just a convenience. 

I’m off to get ready for the fiafia.  Most of the women are getting dressed up.  I figure I smell like Downey, so that’s good enough.