Playing with matches

My mother told me never to play with matches-and for once, I listened.  I listened so well that I was terrified of matches.  Chemistry lab in high school was misery lighting those bunsen burners.  My lab partner always had to do it for me.  She gave me a box of fireplace matches as a joke so that I could light a match but keep my fingers far from the flame.  I wish I’d brought them with me!

But, now I live here, where I have to light a match every time I turn on my stove.  And, during soggy season May-October, those matches are hard to light.  Sometimes I’d ruin 5 or 6 of them before I could get the stove lit.  So, I started watching how my friends lit matches.  They hold them with their fingers much closer to the end and strike down so that the flame goes right up towards their fingers.  And it works the first time.

So, in a fit of cultural and fire bravery, I decided to try it their way.  It works!  And I haven’t burned myself either!  So now, in addition to my other roles here, I have taken on the challenge of teaching expatriates how to light matches the local way.  I only offer my services after someone has gone through several matches and declared that it’s just too wet to light a match.  Little victories, little ways of blending in here…