Visiting Samoa reminded me of a trip to Tanna the most southern island of Vanuatu a few years ago. We decided to see a remote village so on guide book instructions took some food to give to the chief. We arrived at the village and were introduced to the villagers, the ladies just in fashionable grass skirts but the men in magnificent penis sheaths of what looked to be dried grasses. Which I at once coveted. Don't ask me why! After much sign language I found the chief sitting on a stool behind a huge bunyan tree and giving him the food tried to ask if I could buy a penis sheath. He watched me for a long time then his face lit up in a big grin and he summoned some of his boys and they led me inside said huge tree where tucked in corners and crevices were a great many of said apparatii. It was like the supermarket of penis sheaths, where they came from I knew not. Hand me downs, slain warriors, outgrown, I didn't want to ask.
Next thing I am disrobed and they are asking me to slip one on for size. I try to protest but they are having so much fun I do what I am told and they tie a piece of string round the end and then around my waist so the damn thing sticks up proud as a peacock.
So imagine this porky white interloper being led out into the compound amongst forty magnificent very black warriors and Denise has the video camera running and the other five tourists are falling about laughing. Not my very best moment.
Later at a waterfall for a swim our two guides deposited their sheaths and in deference to the ladies tucked their johnnies between their legs but of course in diving in, there were their menhoods peeking out like surprised possums!
Do you think I could get mine off! The knot they had tied was impossible to undo.
Still brings tears to my eyes.