10 Things I Miss Most...

It seems as though I am becoming known among my friends as a lazy blogger.  It's not that I don't think about the blog, planning long clever posts while doing my daily work out on the treadmill, but somewhere between working out and sitting down at the computer my thoughts give way to the excessive heat and humidity of my environment; climate factors that work against creativity, effectively reducing blood flow to my brain and thus my ability to blog.  I hope this is an improvement on the dog ate my homework story.

Ten things I miss most about life in the U.S.A.

1. Family
2. Friends
3. Variety of food
4. Sunday newspaper
5. Brothers and Sisters, Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives and Dexter
6. Transportation mobility and basic driving rules
7. Seasons
8. Celebrating traditional holidays
9. Separation of church and state
10. Experiencing people with the energy of ambition

And so it goes. Thanks for reading.

Divine worship vs. disturbing the peace: What do you think?

I'm having a noise issue in my neighborhood, and while it's driving me crazy, I don't know what I can do about it. 

I live in a neighborhood where several churches sit amidst groups of houses clustered together in varying density. The Church of God of Prophecy is located within a football field of my house and from 7:30 p.m. - 10:30 p.m. between 3 to 5 nights a week microphone enhanced seismic sound waves of song and sermon blast from its doors straight into my living room. The booming rhythm is so loud that it sounds like the entire congregation is meeting at my house.

Church of God of Prophecy

During the past few weeks, I've spoken to a few church members and some local officials about this issue. I've asked respectfully if the volume on the sound system can be turned down. I've suggested that loud music is not necessary for worship, that music and sermons don't have to be loud to honor God, that perhaps God sometimes speaks in whispers. I've argued that loud music is loud music, whether it be Christian or secular; explained that I would honor their request if my music or worship disturbed their peace of mind. And I've referenced the Christian principles of "love one another" and "do unto others as you would have them do unto you"; that for one to worship with grace one must not just speak the Gospel of Peace, but live it.  The overwhelming response?  I've been accused of being godless, of worshiping the devil, of being a sacrilegious tourist, and finally, I've been advised to deal with it; told that I have no rights when those rights are in conflict with the rights of the church.

I've been informed by locals that the Pentecostal church believes very loud music and a shouted message is powerful and that neighbours will hear the service and come in to repent of their sins. I think the intensity of the volume overwhelms the mind and obscures the message; you can't even decipher the words coming through this wall of sound.  I don't see that worship at this level of noise does anything to glorify God or encourage faith.

Paul, in speaking to the Corinthians. laid down some guidelines to bring order to worship services. In these verses, he states that "those who are spiritual should be able to follow these guidelines, and he gives two summary statements.  One emphasizes prophecy over tongues because it edifies others, and the other emphasizes order in the worship service (vss. 39-40)."  In Corinthians I, verse 15, Paul addresses the subject of music directly: "I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind." I believe Paul would turn down the volume if asked. Paul was a great believer in thinking Christianity.

From my point of view, well reasoned faith. 

And so it goes, on President's Day 2011.

I'm just saying...

1.  My co-worker Diane has two children, both girls. Their names:  Siana and Siane. They look alike, talk alike, are close in age and both wear blue school uniforms with matching hair ribbons.   My neighbor has two daughters: Taniqua and Tanisha, same thing except their uniforms are brown.  And the way I'm supposed to figure out how to tell them apart and call them by their right name?


2.  I got to the bus stop a little later than usual last Friday morning.  Several buses passed me by signaling they were full. When one finally stopped there was only room in the front seat which is a scary ride no matter who is driving, but I was tired of waiting so I decided to hop on and close my eyes for a fearless ride.  And hop on is exactly what I tried to do - unfortunately falling to the ground before making contact with the seat. No one offered to help, just looked at the clumsy blonde Peace Corps and waited for me to pull it together and try again. 

 3.  I walked along the shores of the Atlantic from my house to the Marriott last week.  The walk was about 4 miles and it was both beautiful and disturbing. 
 

Me on this glorious day halfway from my house to the Marriott

  

Same walk, about a mile later, covered in litter, a major threat to the ecosystem.

The end of the walk, taken from the restaurant at the Marriott.

4.  Last week, we were told a meeting had been scheduled with the Permanent Secretary (PS) of our Ministry for Tuesday morning at 10.  I was looking forward to the opportunity to discuss my service goals and had prepared several project outlines to share before walking across the street to Government headquarters with the other staff members from my office. Once we arrived, we waited in the hallway for the assistant to call us into the meeting. 30 minutes later, still waiting, the assistant appeared and told us we should return to our offices and wait there for the PS.  It's Monday morning, 4 work days later, and I'm still waiting.


5.  The Director of Youth (my counterpart) is also a wedding planner and an embalmer.


6.  On one of my beach walks, I came across Dr. Brown and his amazing Aquaculture Fish Farm.  It is a research farm which he has been operating (self-funded) for some 16 years.  Dr. Brown told me he cultivates the Jamaican Red Snapper, a salt water version of the fresh water Tilapia.  He has four ponds on his property, all fed with water from the sea.  He also has an invention he calls a Sexual Reassignment machine and a process he said he developed to do just that, thereby reducing the number of female fish and increasing his profits. (Apparently each female can produce 1500 babies - far more than he needs to feed, grow and sell.)  The contraption is located near the "maternity ward" and looks much like a trio of laundry tubs with tubes extending in several directions. By taking the newly spawned females, putting them in this machine, and feeding them a special food laced with testosterone, he said he can influence their gender and control the number of females he cultivates.  He said he only needs 5 females to cultivate the entire farm.   "Besides," he explained, "females eat too much and are a distraction to the males."  Where have I heard that before?

Dr. Brown's Aquaculture Center.

 

Dr. Brown explaining his fish farm.

The maternity ward.

7.  Everyday on the way home, the bus passes the St. Kitts dump, a site that has been used to deposit trash and other waste for the past 15 years.  About 5 weeks ago a huge pile of tires caught fire and sent dense billows of black smoke into the air. The toxic fumes continue to poison the atmosphere as the fire burns from below the earth.  There are no plans to contain it.

8.  Kittitian women have a habit of patting the tops of their heads.  I've asked several people about this gesture - wondering if it was culture specific or had a lingual context.  One person told me it was a way of scratching the head where too tight plaits contributed to an itchy scalp. That made sense until I saw a woman without plaits doing the same thing - patting rhythmically on a spot closer to her forehead.  "It means everything is good," she told me.  That worked too, but it seemed to be a rather painful way of showing happiness.  Finally, after observing schoolchildren doing the same thing, usually after being reprimanded by an adult, I decided it must be nervousness, not unlike nail biting or foot tapping.

9.  Calvin Klein don't bother to send your perfumes to St. Kitts!  I've been curious why so many Kittitian school girls have white necks.  Since I'm not living in a culture that practices body markings to denote tribal or familial affiliations, I decided it was time to ask the question.  A young high school student, similarly marked, got off at the same bus stop that I did and we walked together for awhile. When I asked her about the markings she explained that it was baby powder, and that all the girls used it because it "makes you smell sweet and keeps you fresh all day."  Are you listening Johnson and Johnson? 

10.  I've been going to the gym for 4 weeks now, working out with weights, trying to tone my neglected muscles. The trainer on the floor, a lovely and very muscular woman named Shirley, told me the first day she met me that I was the weakest person she had ever worked with.  She didn't mean it to be disrespectful, just stating the facts.  She told me she didn't think I would ever be able to build any muscle, but she didn't give up on me and I didn't give up on me.  Today she told me I was getting stronger.  Yea, me!

And so it goes on Valentine's Day 2011.

De plane, De plane!

Friday is still my teaching day at Maurice Hillier and I'm enjoying getting to know the kids again after the long winter break.  Last week I planned a lesson on expository writing since the creative writing sessions of the past month hadn't turned out as I'd hoped.  I decided to tackle the "how to" of writing directions, a skill they will be tested on at the end of term, and an important skill in organizing thoughts for written expression.

First, we talked about the steps they need to consider when writing directions that explain how something works, how to make something, or how to get from one place to another.  Then I distributed a hand out on "how to make a paper airplane" for them to review, and gave each student a piece of paper to practice with.  A hands-on opportunity to experience what they would later be required to write about on their own.  Each and every one of them made great airplanes and couldn't wait to fly them outside as I'd promised.  The problem in the lesson came when I collected the cheat sheets and instructed them to write the "how to" directions in their composition books on their own.  Only 4 children in the class could successfully use words to explain what they had just done with their hands.

Needless to say, I had to repeat the "directions" lesson again this week; this time asking them to write directions on "how to make lemonade" with a promise that we would use the clearest directions to make lemonade the following week.  I also tried a different teaching approach by creating a list of 15 helping words from class suggestions which I wrote on the blackboard.  Students were told to copy the words in their composition books and organize them in the order they would appear in their step by step directions.  The only rule was that they had to use all 15 words. This extra organization helped them think through what they were writing before they started, and seemed to work.  At least everyone completed the assignment, and most everyone was still smiling at the end.

A few pictures of the kids with their paper airplanes:

Going up the road to come back...

Can someone please explain to me what "I'm going up the road to come back" actually means?  I've asked this same question of my coworkers who use the phrase at least 10 times a day, and they both laugh at me.  Am I being punked?

"Why would you go up the road to come back?" I ask. "Are you going to the store, to a meeting, to the beach? Where is up the road?"

"Connie, you're killing me," Diane answers.

"Me going up the road," Rudell adds and walks out the door. "Me come back."

Clearly there's a lot of coming and going at my office.


I met with the Minister of Youth, Sports, Technology, and Post yesterday in an attempt to bring focus to the larger picture of what I will be doing during my service here on St. Kitts.  Youth crime and violence is a major issue for Kittitians, not just gang crime and violence, which is prevalent, but also petty theft, fighting, graffiti, vandalism, the "testing of waters" offenses that can too often lead to crime as a vocation.  Did I just say that?  Liberal me?  Am I speaking in tongue? Does that mean I now think that smoking marijuana will lead to a heroin addiction? A beer to a daily fifth of Scotch and a lifetime of alcoholism?  Do I suddenly believe in the death penalty as a deterrent to murder?  Have I slipped the tenuous edges of politically correct sanity and become an advocate for reactionary judgment?  A supporter of the zero tolerance policy?

No. But I do think that in a country with an economy as challenged for sustainability as this one; where advanced education is not expected, especially for males; and where few resources are available for the many in need, that there is a substantial hole in the boat with little tether to anchor a promising future.  


Weaknesses in public systems can exacerbate problems for youth and lead to risky behavior and bad decisions. Young people need to be engaged and responsible. This is a universal truth.  I believe a youth court program will provide that opportunity and it is one of the reasons I would like to introduce and implement the program here on St. Kitts. Through direct participation in youth court, juveniles accept responsibility for their behavior and are held accountable  The program is envisioned as a partnership between Ministries, law enforcement, schools, businesses and community organizations.  The concept is to challenge the entire community to take an active role in solving juvenile crime. 


Participation in the youth court program, either as a volunteer or as a respondent, will not only interrupt a potential pattern of criminal behavior, enhance respect for the justice system and promote restorative justice, but will also educate, encourage volunteerism, develop good citizenship and empower youth. I believe it would be a valuable use of my time in service.


And so it goes.  Thanks for reading.

Ahhh, the breeze...

What can I say about the cool down of December and January?   I am grateful.  Happy for the return of once a day showers and sleep time that requires a top sheet to take the soft chill from the night. The days still bring a high of 82 with little variation in the temperature from morning until evening but without the oppressive humidity and breezeless sky that I experienced while living in Basseterre during September and October.


The house that I live in now sits atop a hill in Spooners, a blink of an eye Parrish above a valley of homes in  Lower Cayon, a village located across from the shores of the Atlantic Ocean.   Opening the slats of the many hurricane windows throughout the house creates an invigorating breeze.  So invigorating is the breeze here on my hill that I have actually begun taking daily walks climbing upward toward the abandoned sugar cane fields that used to be part of a large plantation before the government shut down the industry in 2005.  At the crest of these fields the view is breathtaking, reminding me how lucky I am to be spending the winter in a tropical paradise, away from the cold and gray grip of winter that claims most of the United States.


It seems as though things have returned to normal here in the Federation. Kittitians are back to work or school or gathering in groups on earlier claimed street corners catching each other up and filling time gossiping. They seem content to be people watchers and street poets, biding their time between sunrise and sunset, weaving fish stories of grand yesterdays and greater tomorrows.  I guess for some this is a purpose, insulating from the reality of relentless hours, navigating the "how to" of filling endless days.  "Liming" is the word assigned to the many wasted days and wasted nights of the unemployed or indolent.  Depression, recession, dependence on tourism, government indifference, personal apathy; all are cited as reasons and excuses depending on who is doing the citing.

On a lighter note, I met with the St. Kitts/Nevis ACPCD on Thursday morning and she was encouraging, positive and complimentary regarding my efforts here.  Important stuff when recognition is the compensatory return for commitment. I also enjoyed my first day back at the school, meeting with the class of 3rd graders I have come to regard as "my kids."  For the time being, I plan to continue working there once a week focusing on improving writing skills and encouraging creativity. 


I came upon a troop of green vervet monkeys this weekend and they were fascinating to watch. Fathers preening and posing on tree limbs, yawning in their indifference to the females, distinguished by their larger size and their turquoise blue scrotum.  Mothers are proprietary in the treatment of their babies and most won't allow young or even adult females to hold or carry them. Grooming is very important and mothers of infants spend hours picking parasites from fur and licking away dirt and other materials.  Cute is not necessarily friendly though.  Vervet monkeys have been known to attack people and their belongings, raid gardens, fruit trees and laundry lines.  Remarkably fast, they are also Houdini like escape artists, able to climb, swing through the forest branches and swim their way out of trouble. Disappearing into the camouflage of the foliage doesn't hurt either.


Monkey pictures and their beach hangout:




This shot will cost you 3 bananas.





Mother fussing over its baby. 



Father enjoying a complete body yawn.  Click on photo for closer look.



Sit ups monkey style.





Shipwreck beach, home to the monkey troop.



And so it goes on January 17, 2011. Are you jealous yet?  

Shutting Shop

I had some business to do at J&M Plumbing today and walked in to a shop crowded with customers.  Not exactly the kind of store for window shoppers, I knew it would be a while before I was served. As each person approached the counter they knew exactly what they wanted and the owner handled their requests quickly and efficiently until there were only two of us left.

"I'll take that," the man with the skinny little voice said pointing to a kitchen faucet set attached to the wall.

"Do you want the tubing too?"  Mr. J or M asked.

"How much it going to cost me?

"$126.00."

"When the price go up?"

"Been $126.00 for a year now."

"Got one cheaper?"

"They all more than $100.00 except the one at the end."

"It work good."

"Not that good."

"But me ain't got that kind of money."

"Nothing good is cheap, and nothing cheap is good," said Mr. J or M.

The man nodded his head in agreement, then looked in his wallet trying to remember the magic trick that could turn a 50 dollar bill into a 100 dollar bill. "Me come back later," he finally said.

"No problem, mon.  Better waiting to get what you want, than not wanting what you getting."

The man nodded his head in agreement again, and returned his wallet to his pocket.  As I watched him leave the phone rang.

"J&M Plumbing," boomed the voice of this dime store philosopher.

"Only one more customer," he said, "then I'm shutting shop." 

"Going fishing?" I asked, handing him a key to copy.

Mr. J or M broke into a hearty laugh, with the broadest smile I've seen in a long time.  A Caribbean version of Santa Claus at his most merry. He was a happy man and his joy was infectious.  It made my day.

A New Year Begins

2011 has arrived, full of promise and opportunity.  I've been lax about posting regularly and have as a resolution included more discipline when it comes to this - and other things.

The holidays on the island were celebratory, no doubt in my mind that Kittitians know how to party.  Starting with J'ouvert, the Carnival celebration went on for 8 days, finally ending on Monday, January 3 with the Last Lap parade.  Music, floats, colorful costumes, thousands of people singing, dancing and drinking, filled the streets of Basseterre for 3 days of grand parades.  If the Federation were like a boat and could capsize with too much weight on any one side, I would think the island would be submerged in water right now.  I did not participate in the Last Lap, but heard while in town yesterday that restaurants and officials had to finally shut down the festivities Monday night because people did not want to go home.  School doesn't start until the 10th and many offices are still on extended holiday hiatus, but I expect all things will be back to normal next week.


I did follow through on one of my resolutions already.  I joined a gym near my office.  The plan is to "work out" after work, another resolution requiring discipline.  So far, I've taken a tour of the facility and paid the first months fee.  I'm wondering if I don't need a new exercise outfit before I start, and maybe a pair of shoes made for this sort of thing.  Or....  Procrastination still reigns.


A little resolution history. "The tradition of New Year's Resolutions goes back to 143 B.C.  It was believed that Janus, a mythical king of early Rome with two faces, could look back on past events and forward to the future.  Janus was well known as the god of beginnings and endings and became the ancient symbol for resolutions.  Worshippers offered resolutions of good conduct - paying off debts, returning borrowed goods - to the double-faced Janus and many Romans looked for forgiveness from their enemies at this time.  When the Roman calendar was reformed, the first month of the year was renamed January in honor of Janus, and January 1st became the day of new beginnings."


According to NPR, the 5 most common New Year's resolutions are:
1. Exercise/Lose weight
2. Spend more time with family and friends
3. Quit smoking
4. Get out of debt
5. Learn something new


While studies show that 52% of the people who make resolutions expect to be successful, they also show that only 15% are actually successful after the first month.  I am currently in the 52%.  


Pictures of J'ouvert.
  

Kittitians jamming

The crowd outside Ballahoo Restaurant

This partygoer decided he wanted to be an orange man.

Andrew, the tall white guy in the middle, is a fellow Peace Corps volunteer.

Note the military in the left of the photo, and how calmly they peruse the crowd.

And so it goes.  Resolved: I will write again next week.  Reality:  We shall see.

Were you born that color?

Children are amazing. Especially the young ones. Honest and without judgment, they say what's on their mind.  Not sure we're always ready to hear them, but if we take the time to listen we're bound to learn something new.


"Were you born that color?" Zalika asked me during one of our creative writing sessions last week.  
"What color?" I answered not sure where this was going.
"That color," she said, pointing at my face.
"You mean white?"
"Yes," she said.
"Yes, I was born white."
"Do you like being white?"
"Yeah, but I have to be careful when I'm in the sun, because my skin gets burned and I don't like it when it gets red."
"Do you like black people?"  Zalika asked.
"Sure I do."
"Why?" she asked.
"I like all people," I answered in my 1960's way.
"I thought white people hated black people in America."
"Some do I guess, but it's a lot more complicated than that."
"You must love black people then?"
"Why?"
"Because you're living here with us."
"I"m living here with you, because I like you," I said, and threw my arm over her shoulder to bring her close to me.
She hugged back and the conversation moved on to other things, but the replay of what she said has been with me all week.


Today is Christmas and I want to wish you all a Merry Merry day surrounded by love and joy and family, music and laughter, but above all the replay of those little moments that touch the heart most of all.

And then there are the buses...

Running Man, Rush, Hi Tension, Fighting Cock, Back Again, Raging Bull, Desperado, Tiger, Big Banana, Higher Level, Me Da Man; these are just a few of the names painted on the buses that take me to and from the village where I live. Powerful monikers conjuring up images jam packed with testosterone. A bit intimidating when you consider the blind turns and narrow roadways we are about to share, and there is no Click It Or Ticket law here. In fact, there are few seat belts. Buses are 12-15 passenger vans, and other than taxis or walking, they are the only transportation available to Peace Corps volunteers.  (Taxis are also 12-15 passenger vans, but are mostly hired by tourists as a way for a guided visit of the island during their one day cruise ship ports of call.)  I've been here long enough now to become familiar with the names of these buses recognizing them from up the road as they careen around the corner to where I am waiting to board. I've also come to know the distractions of the drivers of each vehicle, whether it be talking with the passenger in the front seat - gesturing wildly, immersed in conversation, usually political - or singing along with music blasting from the radio, mostly spiritual songs of praise, demonstratively sung by the driver with a bold zeal and only one hand on the wheel.  In spite of the immediate fervency of these chosen distractions, I am convinced that all drivers possess a secret dream of one day being featured at Nascar, a sport and a venue I have yet to learn to appreciate.

The road from Cayon to Basseterre follows mostly parallel to the Atlantic, but unlike the ocean shore it's path is windy and sometimes treacherous imploring good sense. moderate speeds and caution.  With legendary curves and hairpin turns there are parts that are reminiscent of the canyons that lead from Malibu and the Pacific Coast Highway to the valleys of San Fernando and Ventura. It is a beautiful drive following the ocean vista, but too often it turns into an anguishing experience as impatient drivers blow on by more cautious travelers with a honk and a wave, maneuvers that would send me to my knees if I were the kind to genuflect in fear.  The funny thing is, there are several points in this 10 mile stretch of road that require a driver to almost come to a stop as gates warn of impending train tracks or extreme dips in the otherwise level surface.  And then there are the passengers to pick up or drop off along the way - a hand suddenly flagging roadside for a lift or a voice shouting from inside, "stay here" - the driver reacting in an instant; pulling over, slamming on brakes, while passengers shift to make room for someone new or to let someone off, all this is common and happens on every route. In the end speed has little effect on time.  Not for the faint of heart riding buses in St. Kitts, but I've learned to view this part of my day as an E ticket roller coaster ride where the more harrowing the curve, the more blind the turn, the more extreme the drop, the louder the screams of thrill can be heard calling others to the experience. 

I picked guavas from the tree in the backyard at my house this weekend.  It was an interesting taste - refreshing though a bit sour.  I'm waiting patiently for the papaya to ripen.  There are at least a dozen of them hanging on the tree outside my bedroom window, green and not yet fully grown, but I check on them every morning, just in case the birds are also waiting for them to mature.  There is also a mango tree, a breadfruit tree, a sugar apple tree, and a Noni tree - a tropical fruit used for medicinal purposes and said to regenerate the body. While that tree seems to be overgrown with ripe offerings, I think I'll stick with 2 Tylenol and bed rest.  Max has also planted an herb garden full of chives. I have added basil and thyme - two plants which I acquired on my visit to the farm last month, and herbs which I use often in cooking.

School closed nationwide last Friday and will remain closed until January 10.  The official start of Carnival is this weekend, with Calypso finals being held December 16th and 17th. Then it's Christmas on the 25th, Boxing Day on the 26th, J'Ouvert on the 27th, the Grand Carnival on January 1st, the Carnival Cooldown on January 2nd, and the Last Lap on January 3rd. Kittitians love their Carnival. You can feel it when you walk down the street, and see it in the body language of the locals; there is a whole lot of partying being planned!

Cruise ship season is also here and since tourism is at the heart of the economy on St. Kitts, it will be a long season with officials projecting some 600,000 visitors between now and May 1. I'm not sure how much the tourists of 2010 - 2011 will contribute though, even their purse strings are drawn tight with the world economy still in recession. Traditionally, St. Kitts depended on the growing and processing of sugar cane for their economic stability, but when the industry reacted to shifts in decreasing world prices, tourism became the focus. I think it's sad that this island nation and its people depend so much on the revenue of tourism for their survival, especially when you consider that tourism contributes little to the long term economy.  It seems a fickle foundation when both hurricanes and crime can effectively bring it to a halt with little warning.  But I understand the government is trying their best to diversify and I hope to see those positive developments take place while I'm here. 

Pictures of my house:



Living Room

 

Dining Area

 

Bedroom - Master

 

Guest Bedroom

 

Shower 

 

Kitchen Sink

 

Kitchen



And now my Christmas tree - courtesy of my friend Elizabeth who sent it to me from the Museum of Modern Art in New York City.  

 

Merry Merry



And so it goes.  I'll write again before Christmas to wish you all a merry one and to catch up on the time between now and then.

Latkes for me and Pumpkin Pie for Max

It's Hannukah, not a holiday I've actively celebrated since the girls were young and I decided that 8 days of gifts plus Christmas plus Maggie and Caitlin's birthdays all in the month of December made the "holiday's" a bit too indulgent even for someone who loves to play Santa Claus/Hanuklaus as I do.  I continued to make latkes from time to time however, and Tuesday when I realized it was the first night of Hannukah, I decided to celebrate as in the old days and make potato latkes. They were delicious! I also had some pumpkin pie filling left over from the week before and since I was in a mood to cook, I made a pumpkin pie for my neighbor Max.  Max is 80, a cousin of the woman who owns the house I live in. Surrounding houses are also owned by relatives of Max and most have been in the family for almost as long as he has.  Max does errands and "fix it" stuff around the neighborhood, but he is especially known for the herb garden he tends right next to my house.  Last month he planted basil and thyme for me, both of which I've used several times already.  (Pictures proving my expertise as a culinary artist and a laundress!)

I have been thinking a lot about "home" this past week, missing my girls, my friends, the life I've lived and wondering if my time here is being well spent. But then I remember that the life I've lived up to now has taken me on many roads, some even stranger than this, and while this road may feel more isolated and difficult because I am older and have more emotional ties, it is a challenge with the fundamental purpose of helping people, and a challenge that I want to continue to embrace for as long as I am needed and making a difference.  Besides, 27 months isn't so long. One day at a time, and remember to breathe in between!

Today is my baby girl Maggie's birthday.  24, beautiful, smart, and working hard trying to figure out her tomorrow.  I do question how my decisions have affected her future and I pray she understands how much I love her. My children are my heart, all 3 of them. It is clearly a day sprinkled with melancholy.  The sun is shining though, and the wind is perfect for hanging my clothes on the line to dry. Listening to Frank Sinatra croon old tunes, feeling a little lonely and thinking of all of you.

My friend, the Rooster...

Turkey Day passed uneventfully and while I did not enjoy the traditional dinner with my family and friends, I did  make mini pumpkin pies thanks to a package sent to me by my friend Nancy containing all the ingredients for pumpkin pie, including 6 mini graham cracker pie crusts.

This week has been extremely busy.  National Youth Month continued with a breakfast fundraiser on Friday organized by my office to raise money for the Residential Summer Camp sponsored by the Department of Youth.  We offered 3 meal choices in a pre-order sale to people who work in the various Ministries.   Option 1:  Salt fish, hard boiled egg, fruit, muffin, rolls, salad and potatoes.  Option 2:  Sausage, hard boiled egg, johnny cakes, pancakes, fruit and salad.  Option 3: Whatever was left over that didn't contain meat or fish.  Food was prepared by volunteers and brought to the office by 6:00 a.m. so that we could put it together in containers for pick up.  About 100 meals were served and $1,000 was raised.  Later that afternoon I was a volunteer worker at the World Aids Day March.  This time I was on garbage pick up, following the walkers and retrieving their discarded water bottles, food wrappers and unwanted condoms passed out only moments before. I will confess mine was not an especially sought after assignment, most volunteers opted for information/condom distribution or banner holding, but then again it wasn't as bad as the person who has to follow the elephants in a Circus parade.

And finally on Saturday morning, I participated in a building project similar to Habitat for Humanity, where a team of volunteers built a house in one day for an 85 year old displaced man who had worked for Public Works here on St. Kitts for some 55 years.  Now a squatter living in a one room shanty without doors, electricity, plumbing or water, the man watched patiently sitting in a folding chair across the street while we gathered his belongings and set them aside before the caterpillar arrived to raze the place he'd called home for 17 years.  Working from 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. we were able to demolish, clear debris, build and furnish a new home that will hopefully bring the comfort and peace this man deserves in his remaining years. After the initial demolition, the caterpillar and backhoe left the site and the carpenters arrived to erect the structure.  Once the floor was laid and the sides were in place, I knew that the many hands of caring people gathered together would transform this dream into reality for a fellow human being who had somehow become one of the many neglected and forsaken elderly.  I am grateful for the experience and for the opportunity to be a part of this team.

I have become quite fond of the rooster who sleeps in the tree outside my kitchen window. He is a handsome specimen, with black feathers, a greenish sheen, and green blue legs.  He has excellent lungs and uses them often, flocking calls to gather his hens. He has become my touch stone, climbing into his spot at the same time everyday around sunset and crowing at the break of day whether I'm ready to listen to him or not.  Actually he crows all day, an especially vociferous bird and very territorial it seems.

Getting up early has become one of my favorite things to do here. Coffee in hand of course, I love to look out the window at dawn as the sun rises over the Atlantic Ocean.  It is especially breathtaking and a powerful moment of nature at its best. It is a time that makes me feel blessed.

Finally....

I've been in the Peace Corps since August 24 and am finally writing my first blog.  It would seem that I have become a real procrastinator.  So, a quick review to catch up is in order, and I will try to be more prolific in the months ahead. 

The two day overview training held in Miami accomplished it's goal; a resting place with familiar surroundings to calm the anxiety and give us all a chance to become acquainted. It also left two volunteers behind as we headed to the Eastern Caribbean program headquarters in St. Lucia for a scheduled 5 day training. 

From there we were to separate and go to our assigned islands, 10 to St. Vincent, 6 to Antigua, and 10 to St. Kitts and Nevis.  Hurricane Earl had other plans, however.  While the group bound for St. Vincent did leave, the rest of us were delayed, which for the first day was no hardship considering we were staying in the beautiful Bel Jou hotel in Castries.  Besides, it offered an element of unexpected adventure to our beginning and promised a break from the already tedious training.  


Not so fast.  The delay was extended for more than one night and our stay at the Bel Jou was not - they were sold out.  We were moved to the Pastoral Center for the remainder of our time on St. Lucia, where training resumed, and the reality was much more what you would expect of the Peace Corps experience - no air conditioning, no hot water, minimal food and plenty of mosquitoes.  After two more days of trying to navigate through our no longer neatly packed suitcases, piles of dirty clothes, growling stomachs and sagging spirits we were ready to go.  And finally, on Thursday Earl had moved on and so did we. 


We arrived in St. Kitts and were welcomed at the airport by a smiling group of current PCV's.  There were vans waiting to take us into Basseterre where we would meet our host families and get settled in our new homes, but first we had to claim our luggage. A slight glitch - most of the luggage wasn't there.  Eight of the 10 of us did not receive our luggage. After what seemed an eternity of filling out forms and trying to understand how to translate "just now" into real time, we finished the bureaucratic business and piled into the vans for the drive to Basseterre.  It was on this ride that I realized that 95 degrees, 100% humidity, and clothes worn too many times by people without the benefit of a washing machine were not the best combination for the olfactory glands while crammed into a car with 10 people. The ride turned out to be mercifully short, but the wait for luggage did not.  "Just now" was 36 hours.  


For most of us, during the next 6 weeks, integration into the Kittitian culture was made easier by living with host families; and the Peace Corps staff and trainers did an excellent job of preparing us for service, but everyone was glad when the day finally arrived to move into our own homes.  Personal space is definitely a priority for me, and I was grateful to have it back.  

The Peace Corps swearing in ceremony culminated the first year of official service training for the 10 of us, and though we will be back together as a group for mid service training in November of 2011, we will pretty much be going our separate ways until then.

                                                                               

My "home" for the next two years will be in Cayon, a village on the Atlantic side of the island and about a 15 minute bus ride to town.  It's a comfortable house in a quiet neighborhood, friendly neighbors who watch out for me, friendly chlorophyll colored lizards who think that when I open my front door it's an invitation for them to come in, and friendly goats grazing the many open grassy areas on the hillside.  I can set my watch by their passing - both in the morning and the afternoon.  Most days, walking up the hill on my way home from work, I come across a stray kid bleating like a lost child and nudge it to follow me while I take it back to the herd.


My school attachment is with the Maurice Hillier Memorial School where I have been assigned to a 3rd grade class.  After meeting with the principal of the school, I learned that diabetes and childhood obesity are major issues for the people of St. Kitts.  The Ministry of Health is encouraging schools to take the lead in teaching children how to make healthy choices. The Ministry of Youth Empowerment would like to prepare primary school students toward leadership with entrepreneurial efforts.  Thus the "Healthy Breakfast Cereal Entrepreneurial Project" was born.  The students were eager and responsive as each child created, packaged, made, marketed and sold their own healthy breakfast cereal. I also produced a television commercial/PSA which the children starred in.  My friend Chris, a fellow Peace Corps Volunteer, filmed and edited the piece and a man from the Ministry of Culture set the jingle I wrote to music. The children were excited and felt like celebrities when the piece aired on ZIZ, the local television station. The business part of the project was successful too, with the 200 portions students made almost selling out in pre-sales alone.  In an effort to make the project sustainable, proceeds from the sale were given to the school as seed money for future projects.  I am currently working on a creative writing project with the same class.  More on that later. 


My work assignment is with the Ministry of Youth Empowerment My counterpart, Geoffrey Hanley, is the Director of Youth. The people in the office, Diane, Chereca and Rudell are great to work with and very supportive.  I just "moved in" last week and am looking forward to tackling a number of projects during my time here.  In the meantime, November is National Youth Month and I've been busy helping the office implement the projects they planned for this month.  In fact, yesterday was the annual high school "Chef's Competition."  5 of the 7 high schools participated in the event. Each school was represented by 2 cooks who had an hour and a half to create two dishes using only ingredients from a box of food they were given.  Contents of the box were the same for each team and only the staff from the office of Youth Empowerment knew what the boxes contained.  3 judges, one a local chef, rated the teams in areas of organization, taste, creativity, and cleanliness.  Students were intense, focused and professional.  It was a lot of fun to watch. Last week was also Youth Agricultural Day and I joined everyone on a tour of the farms located in surrounding villages.  The day covered the 26 mile perimeter of the island and was not only interesting, but also productive for me.  By the end of the day, when I was dropped off at my house in Cayon, I had collected a bag of fresh vegetables and herbs which I used to make a stir fry for dinner.  To culminate the month of activities, there will be a 3-day long Youth Habitat project next weekend with youth and adult volunteers joining to build a house for an elderly man who has been displaced.  A very impressive undertaking.

Next installment will cover heat/humidity, tropical storms/hurricanes, dialect as in "everyone speaks English why can't I understand," bus rides/bus drivers, collapsing sidewalks, Peace Corps training modules/flip charts/group exercises, clothes lines where it would be lovely to watch your sheets flap in the ocean breeze if they weren't flapping into the cement wall, food, flip flops, integration, and a sense of humor.

Until then, Happy Thanksgiving.