Through some kind of a mix-up, Owen's graduate school sent him a welcome t-shirt in the mail directly to the Dominican Republic. Now we'd have bet ten to one that it wouldn't get here that way (and we gave them directions to mail it to a U.S. postal box to be forwarded to us). But how fun it was to have a mailman come to our door on a motorcycle and light his cigarette while he waited for me to go get a tip! I mean, that was the only time we'd seen a mailman in our two years here. Very exciting! I wasn't even aware that they existed. A friend of mine said her sister bet her $5 a five-dollar bill in a card wouldn't get to her--and she won. My friend didn't get it. Mail is just a hit and a miss here: maybe you get it, maybe you don't.
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