You pass by the lagoon. You see Falan, the village chief, and stop to say hello. You are talking to Falan, and Tamag creeps by in his Toyota pick-up. You head to the next village and every one is chewing betel nut and laughing and enjoying a cold beverage. People come and people go.
Food is brought from nowhere.
Then, the sun goes down and the stores all close. You wonder where did the day go, and you notice you're out of bread and promise to go down and buy more tomorrow. Plant species used in traditional buildings are not as plentiful as before, and the water in streams is cloudy and makes their ankles itch. No one has any numbers to prove their case, mind you, but they do have leaky roofs and ankles rubbed red. Of major concern to the outer islanders is the rate of beach erosion.