So even though I’m in the Peace Corps, at times I feel as though I’m in the middle of a World War, as I hear loud bomb-like noises coming from around the area. Come to find out, as Christmas comes traditional bamboo bursting commences as a celebratory activity. To get right to it, a hole is made on one of the ends of a piece of bamboo, and when you add some kerosene and fire, you’ve got yourself a deafening noise. I came across some kids from the primary school doing it one day. I thought it was kind of entertaining to watch, until one of the kids proceeded to take the bottle of kerosene, put some of it in his mouth and spit it out at a flame to make a “dragon.” Seeing this at the circus is one thing, but watching an elementary school kid do it is another.
Before coming to St. Lucia I didn’t really think too much of dominoes. To me it was a very simplistic, tedious, and unexciting game. Boy was I profoundly mistaken. After joining a few games at a local convenience shop not far from my home, I quickly came to the realization that I know just as much about the game of dominoes as I do about how to properly dispose of pesky mice stuck to glue traps (if confused, refer to previous post). After getting completely schooled a few times, I learned that there’s a lot more thought that goes into the seemingly straightforward game than I thought. Plus, St. Lucian dominoes is quite a bit more entertaining than what I remembered playing at my grandparents’ home as a child. When feeling good about their next play (or just for kicks), players lift the domino high above their heads and smack it down hard on the table (reminiscent of watching WWF with my previous host mom). I’ve done it a few times but still need to work on channeling my inner rage. There’s also a very particular way of shuffling the dominoes that I’ve yet to master. How difficult can it be to mix up a few dominoes, you ask? Well, apparently it takes more skill then I’ve got because I definitely got laughed at when trying to do it. When it comes to shuffling cards though, St. Lucians have no idea how to do it the way we do it in the States (the bridge, etc.). Instead they “beat” them by rapidly taking some on the bottom and smacking them on top.
This past week has been really encouraging, especially with respect to my social and spiritual life here in Fond St. Jacques. People here are very friendly, but for awhile now I’ve felt like I have a ton of “friendly acquaintances” rather than true “friends.” I have also felt somewhat discouraged in terms of spiritual fellowship. Going to the Catholic Church has been alright, but I’m just more accustomed to a different style of service. The Catholic Youth Group is also really struggling right now to get people to show up to meetings. A group of around 15 people attended a nation-wide Youth Rally, but since then only 3 people (including myself) have shown up for the meetings. It seems that people are more interested in the social aspect of the group (i.e. meeting people from other parts of the island at large events) and not so much wider, consistent involvement.
So back to what has been encouraging. I’ve made good friends with one of the teachers at the school. We’ve started exercising (walking/jogging) in the morning starting around 5:30 or 6. Yeah, I’m also shocked that I’m able to wake up that early, but it’s such a great way to start the day. We’ve also been having bible studies periodically throughout the week. It’s such an answer to prayer because not only has God blessed me with a friend, but also one that is like-minded. We’re hoping to eventually get some of the other guys in the area involved as well.
I’m also really excited about an opportunity that has come up to teach even more students the violin, as well as start teaching some kids tennis lessons. After talking with the director of the school of music, I found out about a violin group at a school in a community about 30 minutes south of where I live. They currently lack an instructor, but have 10 violins and a couple handful of students with varying degrees of experience. Starting next term I’ll be going down to give them lessons on Fridays, and in a different community close by I’ll teach some tennis lessons to a different group of students. Once again, God has been so great in blessing me with so many opportunities to utilize what I truly enjoy doing for projects.
So one day I come home from the school to grab some lunch before heading into town. I search the cupboards and refrigerator only to realize that I’ve got squat to work with. Just then I remembered that my host mother had passed by in her car earlier that day and had said a few things I hadn’t entirely picked up. I thought I would go down and say a quick hello to make sure I hadn’t missed anything important. Perhaps I would think of something brilliant to cook for lunch with ketchup, flour, and peanut butter on my trip over…you never know. As I reach her house I notice that she’s just finishing her lunch specialty…chicken and chips (fries) from the Chinese restaurant in town (sidenote: she always gets the chicken and chips, and once looked at me strangely when I nearly ordered actual Chinese food…shame on me!). I ask her what she had said driving past in the van that morning and she responds, “oh nothing, just saying hi.” She then tells me to take the remaining scraps of her food back to Bojangles (the dog) as a treat. I agree, say thanks, and proceed back to home with the white Styrofoam take out container in my hand. As I walk back home, I think to myself, should I really allow my dog to have these greasy fries? After all, he’s just a puppy…we wouldn’t want to screw up his digestive system. True, dogs eat anything, but should they be eating everything? As I’m sure you’ve already figured out, the story ends with me gluttonously stealing the scraps of limp fries from my dog and voraciously gobbling them up, a look of devilish glee upon my face. This was done, of course, only after making sure the window looking out to my host mom’s house was shut.
So I recently experienced my first Christmas away from my family and in a foreign country. It was spent entirely different than at home in Kansas, and while I did enjoy some aspects of it, other parts left me feeling out of place and experiencing significant homesickness for the first time since I have been here. Early on Christmas Eve I went to accompany the church choir with my violin at Ladera, a fancy hotel located in between the Pitons (two mountains). I enjoyed it, tough I must admit I felt a bit strange playing reggae carols and seeing so many tourists. Afterwards, I went back home with a friend and we rested before going to Jouvert (day break). Every year on Christmas Eve people celebrate by having an enormous party filled with drinking and dancing all through the night until dawn. Even though I was a bit hesitant, I figured I should attend to fully experience a St. Lucian Christmas. My friend and I got there around 12:30am and danced a bit. My personality isn’t one that typically enjoys massive groups of people, extremely provocative dancing, and drinking, but I was trying to keep an open mind and was having an ok time. As the night went on, however, I got bothered by the party environment and started thinking about how I had typically spent Christmas Eves of past. In the midst of thinking about family, friends, etc., my mind began to contemplate whether this massive party was how Jesus would have wanted his birth to be celebrated. I began to think to myself of course not, and honestly felt a bit disgusted by some of the behavior I was seeing. At the same time I felt bad because I felt as though I was in part judging the cultural tradition, which I didn’t think was the right thing to do. Two words…culture shock.
Christmas day was much more enjoyable though. After getting two hours of sleep, I went to church and then went with my friend Vincent from house to house for the remainder of the afternoon. Going to house to house is another aspect of the St. Lucian Christmas tradition, where on Christmas people go and visit friends, neighbors, and family and are welcomed in, offered food (lot of pork…I don’t think I’ve seen so many pigs strung up), drinks, etc. This tradition is dying out, but Vincent and I decided we would try and revive it.
So I’m pleased to note that since my horrific mouse experience I have caught another mouse on my recycled glue trap. It wasn’t all in vain…
Cooking with Ben! This recipe for Creole bread is to die for!
3 cups flour
1.5 cups whole wheat flour
1 tbsp. yeast
¾ cup of butter
½ cup brown sugar
1.25 cups of cold water
Mix the flour, sugar, and yeast together. Cut in the butter. Add the water gradually and knead until dough is soft and round. Let rise for 1 hour. Bake at 375 degrees for appx. 40 minutes.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Earthquake and My Most Embarrassing Story Yet
Earthquake
So I experienced my first sizeable earthquake ever last week. It was the largest St. Lucia has had in roughly 20 years (7.4 on the Richter scale), and affected a good portion of the Caribbean. Nobody died, but houses noticeably shook for a good 10-15 seconds. It didn’t do any damage to my house, but some people had cracks in their houses, lost things off the walls, etc. Personally, at first I was just plain confused at what was going on, but after I realized what was happening I thought it was kind of exciting. Some people seriously thought it was the end of the world.
Embarrassing Mouse Story
Disclaimer: All animal activists should refrain from reading the following, as the contents might cause mild distress
It all started when I woke up one bright Sunday morning from a glorious night of rest, ready to leisurely make some French toast and eventually head off to church. I walked into the bathroom and something under the sink immediately caught my eye. As I eyed the contraption on the floor I was reminded that the day before I had decided my house would no longer serve as the play area for local mice. I was through chasing the little punks around trying to throw washing buckets on top of them to no avail. I had bought mouse traps from the store. Not the old-fashioned mouse traps either, the hardcore glue kind. No more games.
As I moved closer to the trap I spotted not one but two mice stuck to the trap. Score! I then progressed into the kitchen to check the other trap next to the stove. That one also had caught a little twerp. I then proceeded to ponder what the best course of action to take next was. Should I just throw away traps and mice together, leaving the critters to slowly starve? Or, should I humanely try and end their misery? I decided that the best course of action was, as terrible as it sounds, to try and stab the little critters to finish them off. After half-heartedly stabbing one of them a couple of times and not succeeding in killing him, I realized that I was just adding to its misery and that I didn’t have enough rage in me to continually stab him over and over. In all of my Peace Corps thriftiness, I then stupidly decided to salvage the trap with one mouse on it by prying the sucker off of it. Why not use at least one of the traps again, right? After all, doesn’t catching three mice indicate the potential presence of more scurrying about? Even though this proved a challenging feat, I somehow managed to pry the little critter completely off of the trap.
Now, the next step was to walk him far from the house and release him back into the wild, half covered in glue. This is where things get really sticky. My attempt to throw him off of the paper towel I was holding him with failed miserably, and the little beast ended up swinging back and landing on my arm, sticky side down. As I realized that shaking my arm was not going to solve the problem at hand, I started to freak out just a bit. I’m not terrified of mice, but when an angry, half-dead mouse was glued to my arm and wasn’t coming off, I started to get a bit agitated. I ended up ripping the critter off, along with a bit of arm hair.
The rest of the story involves a good deal of time spent uselessly trying to wash the stickiest glue imaginable off of my arm, as well as a walk of shame down to ask my host-parents for paint thinner (to assist in getting the glue off). They didn’t have any…
Volunteer Work at the School
Work at the school has been going alright lately, but I do at times feel like my contributions are minimal. The discipline issue continues to be a challenge, and sometime I feel like I’m doing more monitoring in classes than real teaching. Next term I plan to refine my involvement in the school, however, so I think it should get better next term. The school has a bunch of unused recorders, so I’ve been teaching myself to play it and will start up a music program. I also plan to start up a before or after school reading/math program and hopefully will recruit some of the older youth to help out.
Challenges in Development Work
Development here is quite a process. I’ve been working with the Development Committee here in Fond St. Jacques and just arranging a meeting for members of the group took over a month. There are a couple handfuls of very involved people in the community, but they are so busy serving on each and every committee, as well as having busy professional and personal lives, that they don’t have time to do arrange all of the development projects. We’re currently in the process of coming up with a new constitution and trying to get members from other community based organizations to serve on the committee.
Raining Cats and Dogs
So they weren’t joking around when they decided to call the period from June to November the “rainy season.” The amount of rain that we’ve been getting here these past few weeks is unreal. It’s so unpredictable too. One sunny day as I was hanging my clothes on the line to dry, thinking to myself “great, these will be dry in no time!”, it starts pouring rain. “Eh eh” I thought, annoyed as I look up at the quickly changing sky. One thing I’ve learned is to always keep an umbrella close at hand, because you never know when a torrential downpour is headed your way.
What’s Privacy?
So I’ve pretty much renounced any sense of privacy. One night I was making a pizza and one of the neighborhood kids came by. I reluctantly let him come in and help make pizza. After it was cooked I gave him a couple pieces and he went home for the night. A couple days later a whole mob of boys comes to my house insisting to make a pizza. A few days later one of the teachers at the school asks me how cooking has been going and adds that he’s heard I’m quite the fan of pizza. Since I’ve allowed one kid into my house I’ve had to be very direct about setting boundaries, as I don’t want my house transformed into Fond St. Jacques’ first zoo. For awhile, the same group of kids kept coming over every night at the most inconvenient times (e.g., while I was cooking, right when I got home), expecting me to let them come and just hang out, watch TV, etc. I had to clearly explain that my home is not the local hangout and that I also don’t have enough food to cook for all the kids in the community. I’ve since worked out a reasonable compromise with them that has worked well so far. They are welcome to come over to my house if the time is spent reading. I have a few children’s books and got a few more from the library in town. I’m pleasantly surprised how well they’ve responded to it. Learning to read is one of the challenges that many of the kids here face. It seems that oftentimes they memorize words but haven’t developed phonemic awareness, and thus have trouble sounding out unfamiliar words.
Ant Invasion
So the mosquito situation hasn’t been as bad here as it was during training, but ants occasionally invade with full force. As much as I try to be very clean and dispose of every crumb and granule of sugar, sometimes when I wake up and walk into the kitchen I feel like I’m in the middle of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie Ants! Or maybe his movie was Birds. Anyway, you get the picture. Until I saw how attracted ants are to sugar I thought my sweet tooth was unrivaled, but now I’m not so sure.
Mwen pa pyes touris
One difficulty I’ve faced since being here has been distinguishing myself from the tourist crowd. It hasn’t been too much of a problem in my community, but when I go into Soufriere to buy groceries taxis ask me if I need a ride, people beg for money, etc. I feel torn because part of me wants to give some of them a bit of money, but at the same time I don’t want to set a precedent, especially since word travels fast, and I don’t actually have a ton to give anyway. Anse Chastenet, one of the top hotels in the world, where guests pay $1000 plus a night, is within walking distance of town. Jalousie, voted the world’s most romantic hotel, is also close by. I’ve started saying “mwen pa pyes touris” (I’m not just a tourist) to some of them, and that seems to detract them from persisting.
At the same time, there are occasions when acting like a tourist has its benefits. Some friends and I went to the beach at Anse Chastenet (the hotel) to do some snorkeling. I am pleased to say that I successfully managed to beat the system and sit in the “hotel only” lounge chairs under the shaded umbrellas without getting asked to leave. Usually every time I try and do something slick I end up getting caught, but fortunately a female PCV friend of mine was with me so we blended in with all the honeymooners.
Thanksgiving
Even though it was very strange to experience Thanksgiving in a tropical climate, and it felt nothing at all like it, it was quite an enjoyable time. All the PCVs got together for a spectacular Thanksgiving feast, which included three turkeys, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, pie, cobbler, and all those other wonderful foods. I anticipate Christmas feeling even stranger. I have spent Thanksgiving away from family for a few years now, but Christmas has always been spent in relative cold Kansas with family.
So I experienced my first sizeable earthquake ever last week. It was the largest St. Lucia has had in roughly 20 years (7.4 on the Richter scale), and affected a good portion of the Caribbean. Nobody died, but houses noticeably shook for a good 10-15 seconds. It didn’t do any damage to my house, but some people had cracks in their houses, lost things off the walls, etc. Personally, at first I was just plain confused at what was going on, but after I realized what was happening I thought it was kind of exciting. Some people seriously thought it was the end of the world.
Embarrassing Mouse Story
Disclaimer: All animal activists should refrain from reading the following, as the contents might cause mild distress
It all started when I woke up one bright Sunday morning from a glorious night of rest, ready to leisurely make some French toast and eventually head off to church. I walked into the bathroom and something under the sink immediately caught my eye. As I eyed the contraption on the floor I was reminded that the day before I had decided my house would no longer serve as the play area for local mice. I was through chasing the little punks around trying to throw washing buckets on top of them to no avail. I had bought mouse traps from the store. Not the old-fashioned mouse traps either, the hardcore glue kind. No more games.
As I moved closer to the trap I spotted not one but two mice stuck to the trap. Score! I then progressed into the kitchen to check the other trap next to the stove. That one also had caught a little twerp. I then proceeded to ponder what the best course of action to take next was. Should I just throw away traps and mice together, leaving the critters to slowly starve? Or, should I humanely try and end their misery? I decided that the best course of action was, as terrible as it sounds, to try and stab the little critters to finish them off. After half-heartedly stabbing one of them a couple of times and not succeeding in killing him, I realized that I was just adding to its misery and that I didn’t have enough rage in me to continually stab him over and over. In all of my Peace Corps thriftiness, I then stupidly decided to salvage the trap with one mouse on it by prying the sucker off of it. Why not use at least one of the traps again, right? After all, doesn’t catching three mice indicate the potential presence of more scurrying about? Even though this proved a challenging feat, I somehow managed to pry the little critter completely off of the trap.
Now, the next step was to walk him far from the house and release him back into the wild, half covered in glue. This is where things get really sticky. My attempt to throw him off of the paper towel I was holding him with failed miserably, and the little beast ended up swinging back and landing on my arm, sticky side down. As I realized that shaking my arm was not going to solve the problem at hand, I started to freak out just a bit. I’m not terrified of mice, but when an angry, half-dead mouse was glued to my arm and wasn’t coming off, I started to get a bit agitated. I ended up ripping the critter off, along with a bit of arm hair.
The rest of the story involves a good deal of time spent uselessly trying to wash the stickiest glue imaginable off of my arm, as well as a walk of shame down to ask my host-parents for paint thinner (to assist in getting the glue off). They didn’t have any…
Volunteer Work at the School
Work at the school has been going alright lately, but I do at times feel like my contributions are minimal. The discipline issue continues to be a challenge, and sometime I feel like I’m doing more monitoring in classes than real teaching. Next term I plan to refine my involvement in the school, however, so I think it should get better next term. The school has a bunch of unused recorders, so I’ve been teaching myself to play it and will start up a music program. I also plan to start up a before or after school reading/math program and hopefully will recruit some of the older youth to help out.
Challenges in Development Work
Development here is quite a process. I’ve been working with the Development Committee here in Fond St. Jacques and just arranging a meeting for members of the group took over a month. There are a couple handfuls of very involved people in the community, but they are so busy serving on each and every committee, as well as having busy professional and personal lives, that they don’t have time to do arrange all of the development projects. We’re currently in the process of coming up with a new constitution and trying to get members from other community based organizations to serve on the committee.
Raining Cats and Dogs
So they weren’t joking around when they decided to call the period from June to November the “rainy season.” The amount of rain that we’ve been getting here these past few weeks is unreal. It’s so unpredictable too. One sunny day as I was hanging my clothes on the line to dry, thinking to myself “great, these will be dry in no time!”, it starts pouring rain. “Eh eh” I thought, annoyed as I look up at the quickly changing sky. One thing I’ve learned is to always keep an umbrella close at hand, because you never know when a torrential downpour is headed your way.
What’s Privacy?
So I’ve pretty much renounced any sense of privacy. One night I was making a pizza and one of the neighborhood kids came by. I reluctantly let him come in and help make pizza. After it was cooked I gave him a couple pieces and he went home for the night. A couple days later a whole mob of boys comes to my house insisting to make a pizza. A few days later one of the teachers at the school asks me how cooking has been going and adds that he’s heard I’m quite the fan of pizza. Since I’ve allowed one kid into my house I’ve had to be very direct about setting boundaries, as I don’t want my house transformed into Fond St. Jacques’ first zoo. For awhile, the same group of kids kept coming over every night at the most inconvenient times (e.g., while I was cooking, right when I got home), expecting me to let them come and just hang out, watch TV, etc. I had to clearly explain that my home is not the local hangout and that I also don’t have enough food to cook for all the kids in the community. I’ve since worked out a reasonable compromise with them that has worked well so far. They are welcome to come over to my house if the time is spent reading. I have a few children’s books and got a few more from the library in town. I’m pleasantly surprised how well they’ve responded to it. Learning to read is one of the challenges that many of the kids here face. It seems that oftentimes they memorize words but haven’t developed phonemic awareness, and thus have trouble sounding out unfamiliar words.
Ant Invasion
So the mosquito situation hasn’t been as bad here as it was during training, but ants occasionally invade with full force. As much as I try to be very clean and dispose of every crumb and granule of sugar, sometimes when I wake up and walk into the kitchen I feel like I’m in the middle of Alfred Hitchcock’s movie Ants! Or maybe his movie was Birds. Anyway, you get the picture. Until I saw how attracted ants are to sugar I thought my sweet tooth was unrivaled, but now I’m not so sure.
Mwen pa pyes touris
One difficulty I’ve faced since being here has been distinguishing myself from the tourist crowd. It hasn’t been too much of a problem in my community, but when I go into Soufriere to buy groceries taxis ask me if I need a ride, people beg for money, etc. I feel torn because part of me wants to give some of them a bit of money, but at the same time I don’t want to set a precedent, especially since word travels fast, and I don’t actually have a ton to give anyway. Anse Chastenet, one of the top hotels in the world, where guests pay $1000 plus a night, is within walking distance of town. Jalousie, voted the world’s most romantic hotel, is also close by. I’ve started saying “mwen pa pyes touris” (I’m not just a tourist) to some of them, and that seems to detract them from persisting.
At the same time, there are occasions when acting like a tourist has its benefits. Some friends and I went to the beach at Anse Chastenet (the hotel) to do some snorkeling. I am pleased to say that I successfully managed to beat the system and sit in the “hotel only” lounge chairs under the shaded umbrellas without getting asked to leave. Usually every time I try and do something slick I end up getting caught, but fortunately a female PCV friend of mine was with me so we blended in with all the honeymooners.
Thanksgiving
Even though it was very strange to experience Thanksgiving in a tropical climate, and it felt nothing at all like it, it was quite an enjoyable time. All the PCVs got together for a spectacular Thanksgiving feast, which included three turkeys, creamed corn, mashed potatoes, pie, cobbler, and all those other wonderful foods. I anticipate Christmas feeling even stranger. I have spent Thanksgiving away from family for a few years now, but Christmas has always been spent in relative cold Kansas with family.
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