TROBRAINDS
indulge in contrast.

Days in the Trobriands were really, really long. The traditional dress for cricket was so essential and so elaborate that we hardly ever practiced the game. Our huts were full of hairy, hand-sized spiders, the kids kept peeing in the bathing hole, the sun was scalding hot, and it was really easy to get lost in the rainforest. So we spent our days on the bamboo porch, just sitting.

For the first couple days it was paradise.  Nothing to do, fresh crab and mangoes at every meal, nice people, and a white sand beach just down the path.  But soon visions of pizza, the internet, a cozy mattress, and the freedom of driving a car began calling to me.

My uncle used to disrespect what he called “weekend warriors” for being outdoor fakes: people who lived the urban life during the week and pretended to be rugged adventurers come the weekend. My time in the Trobriands taught me that that is exactly the contrast that invigorates my life: living with certain pleasures for a period and then regularly doing the exact opposite. This prevents us from taking our favorite lifestyle for granted by appreciating the many other gifts life has to offer.

As Richard and I watched the violet sun glitter along tropical fish backs and melt again into the Solomon Sea, sundown didn’t have the magic that it did the day we arrived. An uneasy feeling tingled inside since I knew that soon the library and hot cocoa I longed for would become dull, and I’d be wishing for the sunset again.  But I also knew that it was this very contrast that made me appreciate each of these gifts in this generous universe.