Scars
Scars. I have a lot of them. Now, if you grew up in Samoa, you know what I'm talking about - rocks, machetes, fires, sores, boils - you name it.
My earliest scar is on my hairline. When I was 3, a table was being moved, I got in the way, and bang, it cracked my skull and left a 1 inch scar.
We liked to go clamming as a family in American Samoa. It was like a treasure hunt, and you could play in the water while digging for clams. We'd go to the village of Nu'uuli, each of us armed with a sack and dig for clams on the shore, using our bare hands. One afternoon, as we were digging for clams, I knelt down to dig and felt the sharp edge of a shell cut into my knee. That cut left a two-inch scar on my knee. But what I remember most is the huge delicious pot of clams we cooked up that night.
Another day I sat on a chair under a louvered window. It was a warm sunny afternoon. I was sulking because I didn't want to do chores. Men were playing cricket outside on the village malae. My mom had said to me, "If you don't want to do chores you'll have to marry a rich man so you don't ever have to do them." As I sat sulking, a cricket ball whizzed through the window, cracking a louver. Shards of glass flew everywhere. A piece of glass cut my knee and the scar is still there today.
I have a variety of scars from boils or sores. Those scars are unpleasant memories. I also have burn scars and scars from falling down on rocky surfaces. I've accidentally cut myself several times with kitchen knives or machetes - and I have the scars to prove it.
Scariest machete accident? Early one day, a group of us were clearing a field with machetes. There was a lot of dew on the grass. Because of the moisture, one of the guys lost his grip on his machete and it came whizzing through the air at me. It sliced through part of my left ear. Thankfully enough, I only needed some stitches.
I have scars on my abdomen and neck, due to a c-section and other health issues. When the surgeon removed my thyroid, he left an 8 inch scar on my neck.
My scars aren't pretty, but they remind me of how lucky I am to be here. They remind me of experiences that have made me stronger and wiser. I am alive. I am a survivor. I am grateful. And in spite of my scars, life is beautiful.
My earliest scar is on my hairline. When I was 3, a table was being moved, I got in the way, and bang, it cracked my skull and left a 1 inch scar.
We liked to go clamming as a family in American Samoa. It was like a treasure hunt, and you could play in the water while digging for clams. We'd go to the village of Nu'uuli, each of us armed with a sack and dig for clams on the shore, using our bare hands. One afternoon, as we were digging for clams, I knelt down to dig and felt the sharp edge of a shell cut into my knee. That cut left a two-inch scar on my knee. But what I remember most is the huge delicious pot of clams we cooked up that night.
Another day I sat on a chair under a louvered window. It was a warm sunny afternoon. I was sulking because I didn't want to do chores. Men were playing cricket outside on the village malae. My mom had said to me, "If you don't want to do chores you'll have to marry a rich man so you don't ever have to do them." As I sat sulking, a cricket ball whizzed through the window, cracking a louver. Shards of glass flew everywhere. A piece of glass cut my knee and the scar is still there today.
I have a variety of scars from boils or sores. Those scars are unpleasant memories. I also have burn scars and scars from falling down on rocky surfaces. I've accidentally cut myself several times with kitchen knives or machetes - and I have the scars to prove it.
Scariest machete accident? Early one day, a group of us were clearing a field with machetes. There was a lot of dew on the grass. Because of the moisture, one of the guys lost his grip on his machete and it came whizzing through the air at me. It sliced through part of my left ear. Thankfully enough, I only needed some stitches.
I have scars on my abdomen and neck, due to a c-section and other health issues. When the surgeon removed my thyroid, he left an 8 inch scar on my neck.
My scars aren't pretty, but they remind me of how lucky I am to be here. They remind me of experiences that have made me stronger and wiser. I am alive. I am a survivor. I am grateful. And in spite of my scars, life is beautiful.
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