Explore "My Tahiti" by Robert Dean Frisbie on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Later in the morning Tuahu and I walked down the road to meet the white resident and invite him to the feast. Manea had suggested it, adding that I would be glad to have one of my contrymen at the table. We found him in a grove of island cheestnuts, near a ruinous European house that the chief of Hitiaa had put at his disposal, hacking unsuccessfully at an unhusked coconut with an axe. He was a big man, I noticed, broad-shoulderred and slim at the waist; and he was dressed in a brown woolen suit that grated against the tropic background. His tanned shoes were of a flashy bulldog style, but now were down at the heels and out at the toes. He wore no socks, there was a remarkable brown derby on his head, and his face was unshaved.
-"Iaorana, popaa!" Tuahu greeted him. (May you live, white man!)