Time

I'm sure it doesn't come as a surprise to anyone that life here in the South Pacific is a little more relaxed than life in the US. "Black man time" or "island time" is definitely one of the perks, and one of the challenges of working in Vanuatu.
When people show up an hour late to work, then take a two hour lunch break only to duck out an hour early? Eh, sure. Why not? When they go to Port Vila for a week-long holiday that turns into a 3-week trip? Yeah, okay, no big deal. Walk four hours one way to go to the bank? A typical Thursday.
While sometimes it's nice, there are other times the American in me rears it's head, and I start to get a little annoyed. The time I really wanted to get to the Post Office, and my students showed up to class an hour late, making it impossible to do the class justice and make it there before it closed. Or the times I'm waiting to go somewhere, and dutifully show up at the appointed time, only to wait an hour or two before we actually leave. Or being told "i no long wei tumas" only to take on a grueling three hour hike.
Learning to adapt to a different sense of time has definitely brought its frustrations, but it's also helped me learn to be more flexible. I spend the extra two hours waiting for a truck making new friends; I take the afternoon off if I've got friends in town, or I'm just having a hard day; I bring my book to class so when I wait 45 minutes for anyone to show up, I've got something to do; whenever anyone tells me how long it takes to get anywhere, I silently multiply it by two. Adapting to island time has been harder than expected, and I now feel sorry for whoever my next boss is when I keep showing up to meetings no less than 20 minutes late.