(I got hit in the face teeth-chippingly hard at a show last year, and it just now occurs to me, that in the dazed state I was in, being helped over the barrier once I reached the edge of the crowd felt like how falling through the helping hands looks. With a little more end-over-end.)
Today is February 15ᵗʰ; the day the cargo cult on the island of Tanna in Vanuatu celebrates with a parade, and the hopes that John Frum will return, bringing cargo.
Which is quite problematic, in that my existing work permit expires in five weeks; and I need to have a job in order to get a new work permit (which is a several week process). So, uh, looks like I have a couple of weeks to find a new job; or I'll be heading.. somewhere else.
It's snowy like a snowy thing outside; but curiously I'm wearing about the same amount of clothing here as I tended to during winter in Wellington. Where there is no snow.
This really is a much more acceptable form of winter, even though the temperature is through the proverbial floor.