By Philip Weiss
In 1975, a brand new workforce of Peace Corps volunteers landed at the island country of Tonga. between them was once Deborah Gardner±a attractive twenty-three-year-old who, within the following yr, will be stabbed twenty-two occasions and left for lifeless within her hut.
Another volunteer became himself in to the Tongan police, and lots of of the opposite americans have been definite he had devoted the crime. yet as a result of the country division, he again domestic a unfastened guy. even supposing the tale was once saved quiet within the usa, Deb Gardner's demise and the outlandish aftermath took on mythical proportions in Tonga.
Now journalist Philip Weiss "shines sunlight at the proof of this grotesque case with the fervor of an avenging angel" (Chicago Tribune), exposing a gripping story of affection, violence, and clashing beliefs. With bravura reporting and vibrant, novelistic prose, Weiss transforms a Polynesian legend right into a singular artifact of yankee background and a profoundly relocating human tale.
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Extra info for American Taboo: A Murder in the Peace Corps
Sherry’s purse was open on the vanity counter. Jana glanced at it and saw an aerosol spray on top of her other stuff. ” Aerosols ate holes in the atmosphere. Sherry closed her purse with a snap. “Pepper spray,” she said. “My dad’s paranoid. He won’t let me leave the house without it. ” “Well, if you have any trouble with Nathan, just let me know. ” Sherry stepped back from the mirror and did something Jana had never seen another girl do before. She tugged her T-shirt down in front and lightly rubbed the palms of her hands up and down over the points of her breasts.
On the line that represented her heart. Then she cried. Jana couldn’t help it. When she read her palm, her future didn’t look so good. Her life line was blank. She was very quiet about crying, letting the tears fill her eyes, forcing herself to breathe evenly. Her fingers trembled. She placed her hands in her lap. She kept her head down with her hair covering her face from both sides. She hoped no one would notice. Jana cried because she was alone. Not because she was dead. She could get along with being dead if only she weren’t so alone.
Jana wore waterproof mascara because she was on a date and didn’t want to smudge Michael’s shirt. Afraid that the bright lights of the bowling alley would wash out her features entirely, she carefully applied a new coating of peach lip gloss. It felt like silk on her lips. It made her feel pretty, even though she would never be as pretty as her mother. Jana smacked her lips in the mirror and smiled. But not too big a smile. “Sometimes, you have to make up your mind who you want and not worry about the little things that might get in the way,” Sherry said.
American Taboo: A Murder in the Peace Corps by Philip Weiss