Haley walked into class last week, smiling and full of life; a happy, joyful 7 year old. School had started again and she was excited to be a third grader.
"Good morning, Connie," she said as she ran to where I was sharing pictures of my girls with a group of other kids. "Who are they?"
"These are my daughters. Sarah, Caitlin and Maggie."
Haley squealed with recognition and delight. "You know Megan?" she asked, clearly excited that she thought we had these people in common.
"Megan who?" I said.
Haley shook her head and threw her arms out in exasperation. "Megan," she said. "Megan from Texas."
"I don't think I know Megan."
"Yes you do, Connie. Megan and Bree and Francis and Kayla? They live in Texas. You know Texas?"
"Yes, I know Texas. But Bree and Francis and Kayla?" I repeated.
"Yeeeeesss!" she said again, waving her arms wildly and spinning around in a circle.
"Texas is a big place, Haley. I really don't think I know them."
Haley stamped her feet and rolled her eyes. "You knowww them, Connie!"
I looked at the descending disappointment as Haley's body language became more frustrated and I realized that for once language wasn't the problem, but the understanding of time and distance, the limits of Haley's spatial awareness. I knew I didn't want to be the one to tell her there is no Santa Claus.
"Oh...I think I remember Megan and Bree and Francis and Kayla from Texas," I said. "Maybe I do know them after all."
The return of her smile was worth the little white lie.
It is so hot, hot, hot and humid here; and the thing is, the temperature doesn't change from a.m. to p.m. How hot is it you might ask? Last night I froze a litre bottle of water rock solid and put it on my stomach and chest trying to cool myself off. In less than 30 minutes it was liquid and I was back to thinking that Alaska might be a nice place to retire. Those of you who know me, know that I have often complained about the heat in SoCal too. I do admit to being a heat wimp, but putting the dramatic aside, it is just too, too hot and humid here. Quoting words from a favorite fun song that Maggie burned on a CD for me several years ago, "It's getting hot in here. I think I'll take off all my clothes." Now there's a scary visual.
The 25 Most Remarkable Teens program is well on its way to success. I ended up doing in-person interviews with 90 of the 100 nominees, and have selected recipients in 25 categories. Presentations will be held on Thursday, November 10 at a special meeting of Parliament wherein award winners will be recognized by all the Ministers of Government, including the Prime Minister, in the presence of parents and other family members, nominators, school administrators and community leaders. There will be no monetary awards for recognition, but rather the simple honor of Government Ministers showing their respect and admiration for the positive choices, courage and determination of these young people. It's a recognition that is fundamental to the success of the program, its long term sustainability and the broader effect on the way youth will be viewed in this nation.
Speaking of determination, I've been here a year plus now and though I miss home, family and friends immensely, I will stay and fulfill my commitment. I think the reason I'm here has many layers, but essentially it is in harmony with where I need to be. So, I'm going to follow my intuition knowing that the experience brings with it the potential for a greater good and a more peaceful life. In other words, I'm letting the universe have its way with me.
And so it goes for another day.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head....
The rain is falling and I am without an umbrella. I do have one, but it's at home and I'm at the office. It never fails. I have bought three umbrellas since I arrived in St. Kitts and I never seem to have one with me when I need it. As many of you know, I grew up in the beautiful Pacific Northwest, specifically Seattle, or more specifically, Des Moines. In all the years I lived there, I never once used an umbrella; not even during my two year return home as an adult. Walking in the rain was just something you did, like knowing all the different species of moss carpeting the earth as you hiked in the woods. Frizzy hair and damp clothes were part of the package, a small price to pay to live in nature's paradise.
The very first coffee shop opened in Basseterre last week. It's called Rituals and it seems to have been designed to resemble Starbucks - even down to the pastry choices and the green and tan color scheme. I stood in line with everyone else on opening day and ordered a tall cappuccino to go. When I took my first sip, I felt like a little piece of home had come to visit.
The Department of Youth is hosting it's 28th Annual Residential Summer Camp for the next two weeks. Two hundred children between the ages of 8 and 16 will be sleeping at the Beach Allen Primary School where they will enjoy a variety of educational and enrichment activities organized by my office. It is the first widespread community volunteer effort I have experienced while on island with 100 adults serving as group leaders and supervisors. While the organization for this event was at times chaotic, the staff was especially professional and worked well as a team. I am glad to have been a part of it. I will post some pictures of both the campers and the staff sometime next week.
The school year ended last Friday and I said goodbye to my third grade students. I'm not sure if I will resume teaching at Maurice Hillier in September; that mostly depends on whether Miss Matthew returns. While I enjoyed the kids and the opportunity to share creative writing with them, it was largely because of the teacher that the experience was so positive. She and I worked well together, better than most, and the children benefited from that relationship. If she doesn't return, I will find something else to try. I am committed to make the most of my two years here and working directly with the youth is one of the areas I most enjoy.
I'm borrowing a picture to share with you that my friend Chris posted on his blog. I think it was one of the ornaments made for the Peace Tree during the Peace Corps 50th Anniversary celebration in June, and it is also a well known Peace Corps slogan.
And so it goes on July 19, 2011, the 199th day of the year. Enjoy the moment. I am.
The very first coffee shop opened in Basseterre last week. It's called Rituals and it seems to have been designed to resemble Starbucks - even down to the pastry choices and the green and tan color scheme. I stood in line with everyone else on opening day and ordered a tall cappuccino to go. When I took my first sip, I felt like a little piece of home had come to visit.
The Department of Youth is hosting it's 28th Annual Residential Summer Camp for the next two weeks. Two hundred children between the ages of 8 and 16 will be sleeping at the Beach Allen Primary School where they will enjoy a variety of educational and enrichment activities organized by my office. It is the first widespread community volunteer effort I have experienced while on island with 100 adults serving as group leaders and supervisors. While the organization for this event was at times chaotic, the staff was especially professional and worked well as a team. I am glad to have been a part of it. I will post some pictures of both the campers and the staff sometime next week.
The school year ended last Friday and I said goodbye to my third grade students. I'm not sure if I will resume teaching at Maurice Hillier in September; that mostly depends on whether Miss Matthew returns. While I enjoyed the kids and the opportunity to share creative writing with them, it was largely because of the teacher that the experience was so positive. She and I worked well together, better than most, and the children benefited from that relationship. If she doesn't return, I will find something else to try. I am committed to make the most of my two years here and working directly with the youth is one of the areas I most enjoy.
I'm borrowing a picture to share with you that my friend Chris posted on his blog. I think it was one of the ornaments made for the Peace Tree during the Peace Corps 50th Anniversary celebration in June, and it is also a well known Peace Corps slogan.
| Peace Corps Slogan |
And so it goes on July 19, 2011, the 199th day of the year. Enjoy the moment. I am.
Monday, July 4, 2011
Aracnophobe in the Caribbean
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| Creepy Crawler |
It was at least 10 inches wide and 10 inches long - as big as a dinner plate - with 8 beady eyes watching my every move. I'm sure it was a she just after sex, looking sleepy and satisfied she moved slowly as I approached, still using her savage jaws to consume her mate - him being of no use after fertilization. Creepy cannibals these spiders that eat their mates, no wasted romantic sentimentalism from the female arachnid. She eats her man simply because she's hungry and she can. A life lesson I might well consider.
In other news, one of the projects I'm working on is generating a lot of interest. The 25 Most Remarkable Teens in St. Kitts, a program I introduced in Riverside many years ago, is well on its way to success in the Eastern Caribbean. To market the program we had this banner made and hung it above Fort Street, the main thoroughfare in Basseterre.
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| Remarkable Teen Banner, Fort Street, Basseterre, St. Kitts |
It's hurricane season again in the Caribbean. The time when exceptional weather creates an unstable atmosphere with the convergence of warm moist air and other stuff to produce the greatest storms on earth. While the real threat of hurricanes doesn't usually concern locals until late August, I'm already rehearsing my landing for when my roof flies off my house and I end up back in Kansas with Dorothy. Random thunderstorms displaying the frightening sounds and sights of thunder and lightening were the highlight of my weekend and it's only the beginning of July. I looked up the names of the projected Atlantic hurricanes for 2011 and found Arlene is expected to be the first, followed by Bret, Cindy, Don, Emily, Franklin, Gert, Harvey, Irene, Jose, Katia, Lee, Maria, Nate and Ophelia - the tragic madwoman of Hamlet. Yes, I think I'll stop there. Ophelia will be the one to unleash her fury on my little tropical island, another adventure.
Do you know you can actually make mock bets on which hurricanes will hit land? There was a report on ABC News last year about Ken Horowitz, a man initiating such a platform. Traders would buy and sell Hurricane Risk Landfall Options that represented different regions of the Atlantic coasts. If a hurricane hit land in the region that corresponded to your option, you would split the payout with others making the same bet. If it's still available, the website is called Weather Risk Solutions and it's headquartered in Palm Beach, Florida. I'll put my money on Ophelia.
Before I close, a comment. News reports this morning said that the Marist Poll shows that only 58% of the Americans surveyed knew when the country declared independence and only one in four knew which country we gained independence from. Troubling.
And so it goes, on this our country's birthday. Happy 4th of July.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
St. Kitts and Nevis Celebrates Peace Corps 50th Anniversary
I thought you might like to read an article I wrote about our Peace Corps 50th Anniversary celebration here on St. Kitts and Nevis. I will update the blog with more personal reflections next week after things quiet down. Until then enjoy!
Peace Corps Day – Independence Square, Basseterre, St. Kitts
On 3 June, 2011, seventeen Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) from St. Kitts and Nevis gathered in Independence Square located in Basseterre, St. Kitts to host an all day community event celebrating the 50th Anniversary of Peace Corps and featuring games, music, arts, crafts and information about the work of PCVs in the Federation.
A history of the Peace Corps was presented in the Past booth with a timeline of important events that have contributed to its successful growth and the global reach of the organization in 132 countries over the past 50 years.
The Present booth featured a world map where the stateside home of each PCV currently serving on St. Kitts and Nevis was pinpointed. To the side of the map were photographs and a short biography of each PCV including a description of their work assignment and comments by their counterparts on the importance of their service and their value to that organization or school.
The Future booth offered six activities for event participants, with the focus on activities for children.
One World Banner: A 3’ x 25’ horizontal banner – One World…Many Hands…Holding Our Future - was covered with colorful hand prints of all event participants. The banner will be displayed on Fort Street, just off the Circus Square in Basseterre, as a work of art illuminating the community connection and spirit demonstrated at the Peace Corps 50th Anniversary event.
Peace Tree: In celebration of International Peace Tree Day, festival goers created an “ornament” to place on the Papaya tree in the garden at Project Strong, a skill development school in St. Kitts. The “ornaments” created were religious, cultural and simple symbols of peace representing countries and cultures from around the world. The tree was photographed in the garden at Project Strong where the “ornaments” remain on display today. A photograph of the Peace Tree was submitted to the official International Peace Tree Day website to be included in their selection of 2011 Peace Tree Day celebrations around the world.
Peace Corps Quilt: Participants were invited to design a square representing one of the 132 countries the Peace Corps has served since its inception in 1961. Flags of each of the countries were presented for replication. The finished squares were sewn together to make a quilt which will be displayed at primary schools throughout St. Kitts and Nevis.
Children were also invited to make bookmarks and ceramic tiles to take home and use as gifts for friends or family members. The activity presented translations of the word “Peace” in 75 world languages. Once participants chose a language to transcribe onto the bookmark or tile, they were given permanent markers to use for decoration.
A popular activity for both adults and children was the chance to make friendship bracelets interweaving the colors of the Kittitian and American flags. Colorful yarn bracelets could be seen all over St. Kitts and Nevis for weeks following the event.
Children danced to music played throughout the day by local disc jockey Wet Dirt. As an added surprise visitors enjoyed a special performance by the Dr. William Connor Primary School Iron Band. Other activities included a trivia style game in which visitors were given candy and prizes based on correct responses to questions derived from the timeline, handouts and general knowledge of the Peace Corps and its mission. Children were also invited to play football/soccer with equipment provided by the Ministry of Sports. A video montage of the event can be viewed at URL http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0xtIbR3XGAc
Monday, May 23, 2011
Have you ever seen a hearse go by...?
It's been too long since I've put fingers to keyboard to post on this blog, but not because it hasn't been on my mind. My muse has been missing. It still is. That's the only excuse I can offer.
The world did not end on Saturday, but I did begin another decade of my life; quietly with a walk on the beach, reflecting on the past and making plans for the future. And then it was Sunday and after a painful night of tossing and turning, I reached for the aloe to nurse my sunburnt shoulders and decided everything could wait until Monday, including getting up.
Today I walked past Jenkins Funeral Home on my way to the gym and a hearse was parked curbside, back hatch door wide open, waiting to be loaded. The first thought that came to my mind was The Hearse song I learned during a girl scout camping trip and I couldn't help but start to sing, "the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinochle on your snout..." The whole thing gave me the creeps as it did back then, so I crossed the street and tried to look elsewhere, but as with most anything scary, from a safe distance it's hard to resist another peek.
Walking home last week, two girls ran up to me as I neared the top of the hill in my village. "You got a facebook?" they blurted in unison.
"Am I on facebook?"
The girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Ya," the taller one said.
"Yes, I'm on facebook."
"What's your name, we gonna friend you?"
"Connie."
"That your facebook name?"
"Connie Howard is my facebook name."
They divided the chore of remembering my name between them, repeating it several times.
"Say yes when we friend you," Tanequa said. "T for Tiger, a-n-e-q-u-a."
"Tanequa," I repeated.
"Me too, the other one said. "Shanequa. S for Sexy, h-a-n-e-q-u-a.."
"Okay, Shanequa."
"Where you live Connie Howard?"
I pointed to my house which was just up the road.
"You from Italy?"
"No, America."
"I love America," Tanequa said and grabbed Shanequa's hand. "We gotta go, but we gonna friend you when we get home," she promised as they ran down the hill.
I'm still teaching expository writing to the 3rd grade at Maurice Hillier. Last week we worked on apology letters and I taught the kids how to address envelopes. Both skills are part of the standards they must know for end of the year testing. I suggested they write to a classmate, which didn't turn out to be a problem since apparently everyone had wronged someone sitting near them at one time or another. Anyway, to make the lesson more fun, I promised I would mail the completed letters at the post office so that each would receive a letter at home. Reading the letters before I mailed them was hysterical.
Two examples: Dear Andria, I am sorry I hit you on the head with my bible puzzle book. Jaylen forced me to do it. I will be your assistant every day next month starting June 1 if you forgive me. I promise I will never do it again. Love, Tabian.
Dear Jaida, I am sorry I stole your lunch money. Miss Matthew forced me to do it. I take full responsibility for my actions and will never do it again. Would you like me to bring you flowers? Your friend, Onaje.
I'm not sure it translates well in the telling, but it gave me a good laugh and reminded me that kids are kids no matter where they live.
I'm off to do a radio show to promote my 25 Most Remarkable Teens in St. Kitts project. More on that later.
And so it goes, for now.
The world did not end on Saturday, but I did begin another decade of my life; quietly with a walk on the beach, reflecting on the past and making plans for the future. And then it was Sunday and after a painful night of tossing and turning, I reached for the aloe to nurse my sunburnt shoulders and decided everything could wait until Monday, including getting up.
Today I walked past Jenkins Funeral Home on my way to the gym and a hearse was parked curbside, back hatch door wide open, waiting to be loaded. The first thought that came to my mind was The Hearse song I learned during a girl scout camping trip and I couldn't help but start to sing, "the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out, the worms play pinochle on your snout..." The whole thing gave me the creeps as it did back then, so I crossed the street and tried to look elsewhere, but as with most anything scary, from a safe distance it's hard to resist another peek.
Walking home last week, two girls ran up to me as I neared the top of the hill in my village. "You got a facebook?" they blurted in unison.
"Am I on facebook?"
The girls looked at each other and rolled their eyes. "Ya," the taller one said.
"Yes, I'm on facebook."
"What's your name, we gonna friend you?"
"Connie."
"That your facebook name?"
"Connie Howard is my facebook name."
They divided the chore of remembering my name between them, repeating it several times.
"Say yes when we friend you," Tanequa said. "T for Tiger, a-n-e-q-u-a."
"Tanequa," I repeated.
"Me too, the other one said. "Shanequa. S for Sexy, h-a-n-e-q-u-a.."
"Okay, Shanequa."
"Where you live Connie Howard?"
I pointed to my house which was just up the road.
"You from Italy?"
"No, America."
"I love America," Tanequa said and grabbed Shanequa's hand. "We gotta go, but we gonna friend you when we get home," she promised as they ran down the hill.
I'm still teaching expository writing to the 3rd grade at Maurice Hillier. Last week we worked on apology letters and I taught the kids how to address envelopes. Both skills are part of the standards they must know for end of the year testing. I suggested they write to a classmate, which didn't turn out to be a problem since apparently everyone had wronged someone sitting near them at one time or another. Anyway, to make the lesson more fun, I promised I would mail the completed letters at the post office so that each would receive a letter at home. Reading the letters before I mailed them was hysterical.
Two examples: Dear Andria, I am sorry I hit you on the head with my bible puzzle book. Jaylen forced me to do it. I will be your assistant every day next month starting June 1 if you forgive me. I promise I will never do it again. Love, Tabian.
Dear Jaida, I am sorry I stole your lunch money. Miss Matthew forced me to do it. I take full responsibility for my actions and will never do it again. Would you like me to bring you flowers? Your friend, Onaje.
I'm not sure it translates well in the telling, but it gave me a good laugh and reminded me that kids are kids no matter where they live.
I'm off to do a radio show to promote my 25 Most Remarkable Teens in St. Kitts project. More on that later.
And so it goes, for now.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
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.
Ten things I miss most about life in the U.S.A.
- Family
- Friends
- Variety of food
- Sunday newspaper
- Brothers and Sisters, Grey's Anatomy, Desperate Housewives and Dexter
- Transportation mobility and basic driving rules
- Seasons
- Celebrating traditional holidays
- Separation of church and state
- Experiencing people with the energy of ambition
Monday, February 21, 2011
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.
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| 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.
Monday, February 14, 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.
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?
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?
And so it goes on Valentine's Day 2011.
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.
 |
| 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.
Sunday, January 30, 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:
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:
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Thursday, January 20, 2011
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.
"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.
Monday, January 17, 2011
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:
And so it goes on January 17, 2011. Are you jealous yet?
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:
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| This shot will cost you 3 bananas. |
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| Mother fussing over its baby. |
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| Father enjoying a complete body yawn. Click on photo for closer look. |
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| Sit ups monkey style. |
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| Shipwreck beach, home to the monkey troop. |
And so it goes on January 17, 2011. Are you jealous yet?
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
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.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
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.
And so it goes. Resolved: I will write again next week. Reality: We shall see.
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.
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| Kittitians jamming |
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| The crowd outside Ballahoo Restaurant |
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| This partygoer decided he wanted to be an orange man. |
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| Andrew, the tall white guy in the middle, is a fellow Peace Corps volunteer. |
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| 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.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
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.
"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.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
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:
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.
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:
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| Living Room |
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| Dining Area |
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| Bedroom - Master |
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| Guest Bedroom |
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| Shower |
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| Kitchen Sink |
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| 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.
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| 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.
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