Host Mom: What are you doing with your curtains for Christmas?
Me: What am I doing with what for Christmas? (I thought I heard her say curtains, but since the question left me baffled, I couldn’t be sure)
Host Mom: Your curtains. Are you going to change them?
Me: Umm…I hadn’t really thought about it. Why? Is that something that’s typically done?
Host Mom: Uh huh. I have some for you. You should put them up in December.
Me: Oh…ok. Thanks. That’s nice of you. Remember I’m leaving December 11th to go home though, so can I put them up sometime soon?
Host Mom: No. You should wait until December.
Me: Oh…ok. I guess it would just be nice to be able to see them myself.
Host Mom: Nah. Put them up in December.
Me: Ok.
Host Mom: Yeah, you can put up the new ones after you take out the ones there now and wash them.
Me: Oh…yeah…perhaps I should do that (people wash curtains??)
Host Mom: Yeah, you should. It’s been over a year and they’re really dirty.
Me: (laughing) Alright. No problem.
Oh, my beloved host mother, how I come to love thee more and more with each passing day. She never ceases to crack me up...
Over the past year or so I have heard a lot of interesting comments regarding my hair, particularly from kids. Here are a few quotes from kids illustrating the different musings of “white man” hair.
- “Mommy look. He’s got hair on his arms and legs just like the dog.”
- “Your hair is nice. Real nice eh. I like to see that.”
- (after feeling the bristly touch of my goatee) “Mesye! You know what they doing with that? When you die they does come and take that and make steel wool with it.” (for those of you non-domestic types, steel wool is the shiny, metallic scrubbing device for dishes).
So eating grapefruits has become a full time job as of late. The tree outside me house is bearing grapefruits as if extinction was imminent and it was putting up its last fight to produce as many as possible. Even though I frequently climb the tree, eat about four a day, and give them to my neighbors, some are still dropping from the tree and spoiling. And, as you can imagine, watching perfectly good fruit go to waste takes quite a large toll on my emotional well being. If any of you reading this and have a cold, come down to St. Lucia and we’ll cure that in no time…
Even though I’ve been struggling with my job in the fruit department, volunteer work has been going reasonably well lately. After a bit of a hiatus, the composting project is getting back on track, thanks be to God. We’re still trying to secure all of the funding for the project, but are making some headway with different organizations. I’m pleased with the progress of a few my violin students. Some of them have improved quite a bit and can play Creole folk songs quite well now.
I’m getting excited to go home for Christmas. It will be nice to see friends and family as well as be able to celebrate Christmas as I am accustomed to. I’ve been playing my Christmas music and bought some cheap lights to get revved up for it.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Monday, November 3, 2008
US Elections, Jounen Creole, etc.
US ELECTIONS
It has been very interesting following the US election from abroad. It can be quite the topic of conversation, and some people seem to follow it more closely than their own local elections. Even though I obviously knew that events in the USA have an impact on other countries, since living down here I have become much more aware of that influence and of perceptions others hold toward the US political system. Even though I’m an American and follow the election coverage via US cable TV, I feel as though I have been viewing it through a different lens. In seeing that certain people from other countries follow it just as closely as people in the States (if not closer), it not only puts the election on a grander scale but also conveys the reality that it truly is a global matter. In turn, I sense that my perspective has been broadened which has caused me to more seriously consider the voice of the wider world when casting my vote. I obviously didn’t cast my vote for a particular candidate merely because the world wanted that person in office, but at the same time I did consider the important role that our next president plays in working with other world leaders to progress forward collectively.
Everyone I have talked to down here supports Obama. I’m sure that some support him for his stance on political issues, but I definitely have heard, and I quote, “we need a black brother in that white house,” as well as other equally amusing comments. Some even have t-shirts, hats, and other paraphernalia to show their support for Obama. At times I wonder whether I missed a memo that St. Lucians somehow attained the right to vote in the US election.
I’ve been writing this post over the last couple of days and last night was the election. I enjoyed celebrating the historic victory while eating homemade cocoa tea (10x better than hot chocolate) and bakes (fried deliciousness) with a good St. Lucian friend. It seems as though most everyone stayed up until 2 or 3 to follow the election through to its finish. The principal of the school and a few staff members came this morning celebrating and wearing their Obama t-shirts. I am glad to have been able to have had the chance to follow the election from the outside looking in.
JOUNEN KWEYOL
St. Lucia recently celebrated its annual Jounen Kweyol (Creole Day), which is a day specifically set aside to uphold traditional Creole customs and practices of past. The event is held in 4 communities around St. Lucia, where traditional Creole food is sold, folk songs are sung, and traditional dances performed. Even though the event is aimed at celebrating the past, unfortunately in some instances people focus on its financial benefits, and thus certain aspects can be compromised to capitalize on this opportunity. Many of my St. Lucian friends and I noticed that largely Soca and Zoug (more contemporary music) was being played instead of the traditional folk songs, as it’s more popular and keeps the crowd engaged. In addition, in one of the communities pizza was being sold along with lots of little cheap plastic toys for kids. It was disheartening to see such compromises being made, but at least such things didn’t go unnoticed.
The Fond St. Jacques Primary School had a Soiree (night activity) the day after Jounen Creole to raise money for the school. Even though the government provides funds, schools largely have to round up their own resources. The event was really successful. The kids put on different skits, sang songs, jumped rope, etc. Domino tables were set up to engage the older men, I played a few folk songs on my violin, and lots of drinks and food were sold.
SEVERE WEATHER
So a couple weeks ago it rained…a lot. I think it rained every day for about a week and a half. We had a few landslides in my community that completely blocked parts of the road. As a result of Hurricane Omar passing just north of us, the sea was really rough, and the waves caused flooding in Soufriere (closest town to me). Fortunately, however, we haven’t been directly hit by any major storm system so far this hurricane season.
MY SPIRITUAL LIFE IN ST. LUCIA
One of the challenging aspects of service down here has been difficulty in finding a group of Christians to fellowship with. While I enjoy playing my violin with the worship team at the Catholic church, I don’t find it to really be a place of real spiritual nourishment for me. I think this is partly because I’m not Catholic, but also because of the language barrier. Even though I am feeling more and more confident about my ability to dabble a bit in speaking Creole, it’s still challenging for me to pick up everything that is spoken, especially when the person isn’t speaking directly to me. I’ll understand bits and pieces of what the priest says, but not quite enough to put together some kind of cohesive message. I also feel that for some here being Catholic is somewhat cultural, and doesn’t always inform lifestyle. Because of these things, and having just come from college, where I was fortunate to be in the company of a very supportive and spiritually encouraging fellowship, I have felt a bit isolated in my faith here. I think experiencing this has strengthened my faith in that it has forced me to rely on God and not people. On the other hand, being able to share in fellowship with others of the same faith certainly is important and encouraging. Fortunately, a St. Lucian friend of mine and I have started a bible study together a few nights a week. I’ve really enjoyed the opportunity to discuss different topics with him and regain fellowship, however small it may be.
It has been very interesting following the US election from abroad. It can be quite the topic of conversation, and some people seem to follow it more closely than their own local elections. Even though I obviously knew that events in the USA have an impact on other countries, since living down here I have become much more aware of that influence and of perceptions others hold toward the US political system. Even though I’m an American and follow the election coverage via US cable TV, I feel as though I have been viewing it through a different lens. In seeing that certain people from other countries follow it just as closely as people in the States (if not closer), it not only puts the election on a grander scale but also conveys the reality that it truly is a global matter. In turn, I sense that my perspective has been broadened which has caused me to more seriously consider the voice of the wider world when casting my vote. I obviously didn’t cast my vote for a particular candidate merely because the world wanted that person in office, but at the same time I did consider the important role that our next president plays in working with other world leaders to progress forward collectively.
Everyone I have talked to down here supports Obama. I’m sure that some support him for his stance on political issues, but I definitely have heard, and I quote, “we need a black brother in that white house,” as well as other equally amusing comments. Some even have t-shirts, hats, and other paraphernalia to show their support for Obama. At times I wonder whether I missed a memo that St. Lucians somehow attained the right to vote in the US election.
I’ve been writing this post over the last couple of days and last night was the election. I enjoyed celebrating the historic victory while eating homemade cocoa tea (10x better than hot chocolate) and bakes (fried deliciousness) with a good St. Lucian friend. It seems as though most everyone stayed up until 2 or 3 to follow the election through to its finish. The principal of the school and a few staff members came this morning celebrating and wearing their Obama t-shirts. I am glad to have been able to have had the chance to follow the election from the outside looking in.
JOUNEN KWEYOL
St. Lucia recently celebrated its annual Jounen Kweyol (Creole Day), which is a day specifically set aside to uphold traditional Creole customs and practices of past. The event is held in 4 communities around St. Lucia, where traditional Creole food is sold, folk songs are sung, and traditional dances performed. Even though the event is aimed at celebrating the past, unfortunately in some instances people focus on its financial benefits, and thus certain aspects can be compromised to capitalize on this opportunity. Many of my St. Lucian friends and I noticed that largely Soca and Zoug (more contemporary music) was being played instead of the traditional folk songs, as it’s more popular and keeps the crowd engaged. In addition, in one of the communities pizza was being sold along with lots of little cheap plastic toys for kids. It was disheartening to see such compromises being made, but at least such things didn’t go unnoticed.
The Fond St. Jacques Primary School had a Soiree (night activity) the day after Jounen Creole to raise money for the school. Even though the government provides funds, schools largely have to round up their own resources. The event was really successful. The kids put on different skits, sang songs, jumped rope, etc. Domino tables were set up to engage the older men, I played a few folk songs on my violin, and lots of drinks and food were sold.
SEVERE WEATHER
So a couple weeks ago it rained…a lot. I think it rained every day for about a week and a half. We had a few landslides in my community that completely blocked parts of the road. As a result of Hurricane Omar passing just north of us, the sea was really rough, and the waves caused flooding in Soufriere (closest town to me). Fortunately, however, we haven’t been directly hit by any major storm system so far this hurricane season.
MY SPIRITUAL LIFE IN ST. LUCIA
One of the challenging aspects of service down here has been difficulty in finding a group of Christians to fellowship with. While I enjoy playing my violin with the worship team at the Catholic church, I don’t find it to really be a place of real spiritual nourishment for me. I think this is partly because I’m not Catholic, but also because of the language barrier. Even though I am feeling more and more confident about my ability to dabble a bit in speaking Creole, it’s still challenging for me to pick up everything that is spoken, especially when the person isn’t speaking directly to me. I’ll understand bits and pieces of what the priest says, but not quite enough to put together some kind of cohesive message. I also feel that for some here being Catholic is somewhat cultural, and doesn’t always inform lifestyle. Because of these things, and having just come from college, where I was fortunate to be in the company of a very supportive and spiritually encouraging fellowship, I have felt a bit isolated in my faith here. I think experiencing this has strengthened my faith in that it has forced me to rely on God and not people. On the other hand, being able to share in fellowship with others of the same faith certainly is important and encouraging. Fortunately, a St. Lucian friend of mine and I have started a bible study together a few nights a week. I’ve really enjoyed the opportunity to discuss different topics with him and regain fellowship, however small it may be.
Saturday, October 11, 2008
St. Lucia Top Ten Lists
In the style of David Letterman and Andrew Haile, a college friend and fellow Peace Corps Volunteer in Guinea, I decided to do a couple of “top ten” lists relating to different St. Lucia topics. So here goes…
Top Ten Indicators That You Live in a Slightly Humid Climate
10) Cornflakes lose their crispness within one week of being opened.
9) Shirts can be wrung out as if soaked in water after having gone for a jog.
8) Paper from the printer comes out curled up like a scroll.
7) It proves to be rocket science to get something to permanently stick to the wall
6) Mold grows…on just about anything
5) You wake up at 2am sweaty and hot, even though you happen to be sleeping nearly naked and coverless.
4) The handy hot water switch on the shower is never used out of fear that once getting out of the shower you’ll somehow start ironically getting wet with sweat while drying off.
3) The motor of a brand new, flashy Japanese-made fan goes out within months because of overuse.
2) In an attempt to expedite the process of going to sleep, prior to going to bed you open the freezer and put your arms, back, etc. on frozen chicken to cool off.
1) Envelopes magically become sealed by themselves and must therefore be unstuck and glued shut when sending mail.
It’s not always as bad as I make it out to be. August and September just happen to be the worst months. This week it’s been really rainy and thus quite a bit cooler. Just now in a couple months it’ll be “cold.” Still come and visit me. :)
Top Ten St. Lucian Phrases/Mannerisms
10) Eh eh (used in surprise, disgust, and many other situations)
9) Wi Papa or Ma-ma! (like the surprise form of “eh eh”)
8) Awa! (emphatic no)
7) We Me`sye! (way-mess-yay; like the surprise form of “eh eh”)
6) Sucking teeth/Lip smack (usually followed by an “eh eh” in the form of disgust)
5) Popicho! (pop-ee-show; nonsense!)
4) Ci Bon Dye Vle (God willing)
3) Irie (eye-ree; positive or safe)
2) Sa ou di a (sow-dee-ah; translates to “what do you say there” but means how are you).
1) He…he…he…he Salop! (used when someone makes a big mistake, falls down, etc.; last word used in isolation is taken as a curse)
A couple of posts ago I mentioned that we had started up a table tennis/games afternoon in the parish center on Sunday afternoons. It’s been going well and fortunately a considerable number of youth has been consistently coming. We were also able to get access to a few more games (scrabble, chess, connect 4) from an after school program that has since stopped. We’re hoping to open up the parish center a couple of days during the week as well and are in the process of getting permission from the parish council.
Oh, one last thing. The mice are back. Good thing I’ve already established the most effective, humane way of dealing with them, eh?
Top Ten Indicators That You Live in a Slightly Humid Climate
10) Cornflakes lose their crispness within one week of being opened.
9) Shirts can be wrung out as if soaked in water after having gone for a jog.
8) Paper from the printer comes out curled up like a scroll.
7) It proves to be rocket science to get something to permanently stick to the wall
6) Mold grows…on just about anything
5) You wake up at 2am sweaty and hot, even though you happen to be sleeping nearly naked and coverless.
4) The handy hot water switch on the shower is never used out of fear that once getting out of the shower you’ll somehow start ironically getting wet with sweat while drying off.
3) The motor of a brand new, flashy Japanese-made fan goes out within months because of overuse.
2) In an attempt to expedite the process of going to sleep, prior to going to bed you open the freezer and put your arms, back, etc. on frozen chicken to cool off.
1) Envelopes magically become sealed by themselves and must therefore be unstuck and glued shut when sending mail.
It’s not always as bad as I make it out to be. August and September just happen to be the worst months. This week it’s been really rainy and thus quite a bit cooler. Just now in a couple months it’ll be “cold.” Still come and visit me. :)
Top Ten St. Lucian Phrases/Mannerisms
10) Eh eh (used in surprise, disgust, and many other situations)
9) Wi Papa or Ma-ma! (like the surprise form of “eh eh”)
8) Awa! (emphatic no)
7) We Me`sye! (way-mess-yay; like the surprise form of “eh eh”)
6) Sucking teeth/Lip smack (usually followed by an “eh eh” in the form of disgust)
5) Popicho! (pop-ee-show; nonsense!)
4) Ci Bon Dye Vle (God willing)
3) Irie (eye-ree; positive or safe)
2) Sa ou di a (sow-dee-ah; translates to “what do you say there” but means how are you).
1) He…he…he…he Salop! (used when someone makes a big mistake, falls down, etc.; last word used in isolation is taken as a curse)
A couple of posts ago I mentioned that we had started up a table tennis/games afternoon in the parish center on Sunday afternoons. It’s been going well and fortunately a considerable number of youth has been consistently coming. We were also able to get access to a few more games (scrabble, chess, connect 4) from an after school program that has since stopped. We’re hoping to open up the parish center a couple of days during the week as well and are in the process of getting permission from the parish council.
Oh, one last thing. The mice are back. Good thing I’ve already established the most effective, humane way of dealing with them, eh?
Monday, September 1, 2008
Trip to Dominica, Nicknames, & Rastafarian Culture
I mentioned in my last post that I was going on a short trip to a nearby island to the north called Dominica with some teachers from a school in Soufriere. I got back from the trip about a week ago and really enjoyed my time there. Dominica is known as the “nature island” of the Caribbean, so it was right up my alley. One of the highlights from the trip was hiking to an amazingly humungous waterfall and bathing in the pool at the bottom. The water in the pool was really rough—almost to the point of forming waves—because of the strength of the water falling into the pool. I tried to go down and touch the bottom of the pool a couple of times, but each time I kept going down and down and eventually thought to myself maybe I should start going back up now. Since I recently got scuba certified in St. Lucia I figured I should probably make use of it and see what the coral/fish are like in Dominica. One of my Peace Corps friends in Dominica is also certified and hooked me up with a good price at a dive shop where she was certified. My scuba diving experience was great and I saw a lot more underwater life than I expected to see. The coral was some of the brightest I’ve seen and I saw a turtle, a couple of eels, lobsters, and of course a bunch of tropical fish. At the aptly named “Champagne” dive site, there was a spot where warm bubbles were coming up from the ocean floor due to volcanic activity on the island. That was pretty cool. I also had a good time hanging out with the teachers and joking around with them in Creole. Once they were aware that I’ve been making an effort to learn Creole they were intentional about speaking it to me, so I got a lot of good practice in.
Since coming to Fond St. Jacques I’ve developed quite a few nicknames, some which make sense and others which leave me confused. The most popular is “Ben Ten.” Apparently there’s a cartoon on TV with a character named Ben Ten who has a special watch that gives him 10 crazy powers or something. I’ve tried to find it on TV so I can discover who I really am, but alas I haven’t had any luck yet. I like the idea of having special powers though. Another nickname is “Dr. Ben.” Despite my lack of a medical degree, my neighbor insists I have an honorary degree and likes to call me that. If it’s not Dr. Ben, it’s Ben Hur. I’ve got no complaints. If people want to attribute special powers, a marked increase in intellect, or superhuman strength to me, they can go right ahead.
I’ve been meaning to write a little something about the presence of the Rastafarian culture in St. Lucia, specifically in Fond St. Jacques. I think I have hesitated to this point because I don’t have a complete understanding of the religion/phiolosophy myself. Well, here’s a bit of what I do know. Rastafarians believe that Haile Selassie, a former Ethiopian leader and descendant of King Solomon, was the returned Messiah Jesus Christ. They follow the dietary restrictions of the Old Testament and therefore are almost exclusively vegetarian. Most grow dreadlocks in accordance with verses of the Old Testament (Leviticus 21:5). Cannabis (marijuana) is seen as a sacrament and is smoked to clean the body and soul and bring one to a higher level of consciousness and closer to Jah (God). The movement has been popularized by reggae music, particularly that of Bob Marley. Most Rastafarians I know farm for a living, and since Fond St. Jacques is largely a farming community, I know quite a few. A couple of the guys at the Farmers’ Cooperative that I work with on the composting project are Rastafarian.
I’m excited to be going home to Kansas this Christmas to see family and friends. I’m going to stop in NYC for a few days to see some college friends before heading home. Ticket prices were just about the same traveling straight home to Kansas as it was flying to NYC and then to Kansas, so I figured I would take the opportunity to catch up with some people I haven’t seen in awhile. If anyone is going to be NYC from the 11th to the 15th or on New Year’s Eve, let me know.
Since coming to Fond St. Jacques I’ve developed quite a few nicknames, some which make sense and others which leave me confused. The most popular is “Ben Ten.” Apparently there’s a cartoon on TV with a character named Ben Ten who has a special watch that gives him 10 crazy powers or something. I’ve tried to find it on TV so I can discover who I really am, but alas I haven’t had any luck yet. I like the idea of having special powers though. Another nickname is “Dr. Ben.” Despite my lack of a medical degree, my neighbor insists I have an honorary degree and likes to call me that. If it’s not Dr. Ben, it’s Ben Hur. I’ve got no complaints. If people want to attribute special powers, a marked increase in intellect, or superhuman strength to me, they can go right ahead.
I’ve been meaning to write a little something about the presence of the Rastafarian culture in St. Lucia, specifically in Fond St. Jacques. I think I have hesitated to this point because I don’t have a complete understanding of the religion/phiolosophy myself. Well, here’s a bit of what I do know. Rastafarians believe that Haile Selassie, a former Ethiopian leader and descendant of King Solomon, was the returned Messiah Jesus Christ. They follow the dietary restrictions of the Old Testament and therefore are almost exclusively vegetarian. Most grow dreadlocks in accordance with verses of the Old Testament (Leviticus 21:5). Cannabis (marijuana) is seen as a sacrament and is smoked to clean the body and soul and bring one to a higher level of consciousness and closer to Jah (God). The movement has been popularized by reggae music, particularly that of Bob Marley. Most Rastafarians I know farm for a living, and since Fond St. Jacques is largely a farming community, I know quite a few. A couple of the guys at the Farmers’ Cooperative that I work with on the composting project are Rastafarian.
I’m excited to be going home to Kansas this Christmas to see family and friends. I’m going to stop in NYC for a few days to see some college friends before heading home. Ticket prices were just about the same traveling straight home to Kansas as it was flying to NYC and then to Kansas, so I figured I would take the opportunity to catch up with some people I haven’t seen in awhile. If anyone is going to be NYC from the 11th to the 15th or on New Year’s Eve, let me know.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Karaoke Craziness, Tennis Camp, & Youth Stuff
Recently karaoke was brought to Fond St. Jacques, spicing up the usually quiet night-life. Although it always proves to be an interesting time, to date nothing has quite topped my first experience there roughly a month ago. It was not only an amusing evening of singing, but also of obligatory dancing and awkward moments brought about by peculiar song choices. Although the thought did cross my mind to break the mold and introduce karaoke whistling, I decided that people were most likely already thinking “Gade nomn blan fou chante la!” (Look at the crazy white man singing there!), and that whistling might just be a bit more than they could handle. ☺
The night started getting really interesting when Milena, a hilarious petite 50 some year old woman, otherwise self-named as “Sugar Top Celebrity on the Road to Jerusalem” showed up. Without having met her personally, there’s no way that you can fully understand or appreciate the true essence of Sugar Top, but you should be able to at least grasp from the name that she’s quite a character. Anyway, during one of the songs she literally grabbed me and started dancing. Since I know her reasonably well from teaching her neighbors the violin, I played along and danced with her despite the fact that nobody else in the entire place was dancing. Now most of you guys probably know that I’m not the biggest dancer in the world, and am usually more up for dancing in large camouflaging groups rather than one on one with large groups of people blatantly staring as if it were a spectacle, so after one dance I had personally more than satisfied my dancing quota for the evening. Unfortunately Sugar Top was just getting warmed up. No matter what escape tactic I used, she aggressively insisted on dancing song after song, and not wanting to be insulting or rude I reluctantly continued, half-heartedly yet obediently following her ever constant twirling commands like a dog having just been commanded to go to his kennel. After awhile, however, I managed to get away citing dance fatigue.
While the dancing did fortunately come to a stop, the evening festivities were long from over. Late in the night someone chose to sing a Caribbean song with a very unusual premise. In brief, the song was about two white girls who travel to the bush of Africa, stumble upon a cannibalistic tribe, and are eaten. The chorus composed of barbaric chanting of the words “you never taste a white meat yet!” As the lone white person present, I felt just a tad bit awkward, but decided that the only thing to do was resort to laughing at the absurdity of the song. I started really laughing, however, when the guy singing the song changed the words to “Ben never taste a black meat yet!” I should have taken the microphone from him and retorted, “Eh eh? Es ou asiwe? Mwen te manje i deja, ek i ni bon gou” (are you sure? I ate it already and it has good taste), but I didn’t think of that until later. Next time…
I brought my tennis racquet to St. Lucia on a whim, hoping that at some point over my two years here I would have the chance to hit a tennis ball. Well, God granted my wish as I’ve not only had the chance to hit a ball or two, but have had the opportunity to coach a tennis camp for kids with another Peace Corps Volunteer these past three weeks on the southern part of the island. At times it was a bit hectic, given that we had roughly thirty kids and only 1 court and a back mini-court to coach on, but all in all I enjoyed it. The kids were very enthusiastic about playing tennis, so that made up for their occasionally troublesome behaviors. I was glad when it finished though, as I felt slightly bad about not being quite as present in my own community and grew tired of all the traveling.
Not only have I had the chance to play tennis lately, but I’ve also been playing a lot of the next best thing – table tennis. After talking with the parish council and the Church Youth Group, I helped initiate a games afternoon every Sunday at the parish center. Table tennis used to be a very popular activity in Fond St. Jacques, but it died out when the school temporarily moved into the area it had been taking place during its renovations. Now that the school has long been renovated, and the parish center hasn’t been used for hardly anything, why not do something with it? We painted the table tennis board and built a semi-sturdy leg structure for it. It has been fun playing it along with dominoes and cards, and quite a few youth turn out for it. I hope that after we prove to the church that the kids won’t wreck the place, we can move to having it on a more regular basis and expand to have some other types of games and activities.
The recently formed Fond St. Jacques Youth and Sports Club had its grand launching yesterday. In the morning we had a relay marathon. Teams of 8 designated individual runners for different legs of the race around the Soufriere district. Although teams from other communities didn’t have a good showing, quite a few people from Fond St. Jacques came and we had a pretty competitive race. In the afternoon we had a small goals football competition, and later on in the evening a dance. All in all it was a good way to kick things off and I hope that we can build off of the momentum.
So as of about a week ago I have been on St. Lucia for 1 year. It’s crazy to think how quickly my time here has gone by so far. Every time I check myself another month has flown by. I find myself ambivalent with respect to what I think about this quick passing of time. In a week we have a 3 day mid-service training here on St. Lucia with all the volunteers from the different Eastern Caribbean islands. It’ll be nice to catch up with everyone that I met a year ago, swap stories, eat a well-balanced meal, etc. ☺
After mid-service training I’m going on a week long vacation with a group of teachers from Soufriere to Dominica, a nearby island to the north. From what I’ve heard Dominica is gorgeous with rugged mountains for hiking and as many rivers as there are days of the year. I’m really looking forward to a bit of time off island before school starts back up in early September.
The night started getting really interesting when Milena, a hilarious petite 50 some year old woman, otherwise self-named as “Sugar Top Celebrity on the Road to Jerusalem” showed up. Without having met her personally, there’s no way that you can fully understand or appreciate the true essence of Sugar Top, but you should be able to at least grasp from the name that she’s quite a character. Anyway, during one of the songs she literally grabbed me and started dancing. Since I know her reasonably well from teaching her neighbors the violin, I played along and danced with her despite the fact that nobody else in the entire place was dancing. Now most of you guys probably know that I’m not the biggest dancer in the world, and am usually more up for dancing in large camouflaging groups rather than one on one with large groups of people blatantly staring as if it were a spectacle, so after one dance I had personally more than satisfied my dancing quota for the evening. Unfortunately Sugar Top was just getting warmed up. No matter what escape tactic I used, she aggressively insisted on dancing song after song, and not wanting to be insulting or rude I reluctantly continued, half-heartedly yet obediently following her ever constant twirling commands like a dog having just been commanded to go to his kennel. After awhile, however, I managed to get away citing dance fatigue.
While the dancing did fortunately come to a stop, the evening festivities were long from over. Late in the night someone chose to sing a Caribbean song with a very unusual premise. In brief, the song was about two white girls who travel to the bush of Africa, stumble upon a cannibalistic tribe, and are eaten. The chorus composed of barbaric chanting of the words “you never taste a white meat yet!” As the lone white person present, I felt just a tad bit awkward, but decided that the only thing to do was resort to laughing at the absurdity of the song. I started really laughing, however, when the guy singing the song changed the words to “Ben never taste a black meat yet!” I should have taken the microphone from him and retorted, “Eh eh? Es ou asiwe? Mwen te manje i deja, ek i ni bon gou” (are you sure? I ate it already and it has good taste), but I didn’t think of that until later. Next time…
I brought my tennis racquet to St. Lucia on a whim, hoping that at some point over my two years here I would have the chance to hit a tennis ball. Well, God granted my wish as I’ve not only had the chance to hit a ball or two, but have had the opportunity to coach a tennis camp for kids with another Peace Corps Volunteer these past three weeks on the southern part of the island. At times it was a bit hectic, given that we had roughly thirty kids and only 1 court and a back mini-court to coach on, but all in all I enjoyed it. The kids were very enthusiastic about playing tennis, so that made up for their occasionally troublesome behaviors. I was glad when it finished though, as I felt slightly bad about not being quite as present in my own community and grew tired of all the traveling.
Not only have I had the chance to play tennis lately, but I’ve also been playing a lot of the next best thing – table tennis. After talking with the parish council and the Church Youth Group, I helped initiate a games afternoon every Sunday at the parish center. Table tennis used to be a very popular activity in Fond St. Jacques, but it died out when the school temporarily moved into the area it had been taking place during its renovations. Now that the school has long been renovated, and the parish center hasn’t been used for hardly anything, why not do something with it? We painted the table tennis board and built a semi-sturdy leg structure for it. It has been fun playing it along with dominoes and cards, and quite a few youth turn out for it. I hope that after we prove to the church that the kids won’t wreck the place, we can move to having it on a more regular basis and expand to have some other types of games and activities.
The recently formed Fond St. Jacques Youth and Sports Club had its grand launching yesterday. In the morning we had a relay marathon. Teams of 8 designated individual runners for different legs of the race around the Soufriere district. Although teams from other communities didn’t have a good showing, quite a few people from Fond St. Jacques came and we had a pretty competitive race. In the afternoon we had a small goals football competition, and later on in the evening a dance. All in all it was a good way to kick things off and I hope that we can build off of the momentum.
So as of about a week ago I have been on St. Lucia for 1 year. It’s crazy to think how quickly my time here has gone by so far. Every time I check myself another month has flown by. I find myself ambivalent with respect to what I think about this quick passing of time. In a week we have a 3 day mid-service training here on St. Lucia with all the volunteers from the different Eastern Caribbean islands. It’ll be nice to catch up with everyone that I met a year ago, swap stories, eat a well-balanced meal, etc. ☺
After mid-service training I’m going on a week long vacation with a group of teachers from Soufriere to Dominica, a nearby island to the north. From what I’ve heard Dominica is gorgeous with rugged mountains for hiking and as many rivers as there are days of the year. I’m really looking forward to a bit of time off island before school starts back up in early September.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Jazz Festival, Youth & Sports, World Environment Day
So every year St. Lucia hosts a big jazz music festival featuring world renown artists that attracts tourists from all over the world. Ironically enough, besides the Kenny J music that I hear for the processional at almost every wedding I've been to here, practically NO ONE from St. Lucia listens to or likes jazz music at all. It's obviously done exclusively with tourists in mind. In Soufriere, however, most of the artists this year were local Creole artists. I enjoyed hearing the local music, but got quite a kick out of the fact that none of the music in the Soufriere "jazz" festival was actually jazz.
I'm excited to report that, after lots of planning and coordinating, we've finally managed to organize a youth and sports club in Fond St. Jacques! Apparently awhile back there used to be a group focused mostly around football and cricket, but after some complications and drama the group split, causing organized activity for youth to largely come to a halt. So, the past couple of months I've been working with a few people in the community to try and unify the youth of Fond St. Jacques and form a new club. We focused on targeting a wide cross section of youth in the community by advertising that the club wants to undertake a variety of different types of activities (sports for both guys and girls, culture, education, debate, etc.), instead of just football and cricket. The night of the election we were a bit nervous because we weren't sure if people would turn out or not. We had registered a large number of people, but then again that doesn't always mean too much. Thankfully, nearly fifty people came and we were able to elect an executive board to move youth and sports forward in the community. I pray that God will continue to bless the group and that it'll start off on the right foot.
In collaboration with a fellow PCV and a Tour Guide Association, we organized World Environment Day activities. We had a screening of a film about climate change/global warming and how St. Lucia is affected as well as a hike. Things came together and we had a good turnout for the film and the hike as well. I think it had something to do with the fact that a free t-shirt was involved, but nevertheless it was good that people came. Considering that littering is a BIG problem here (kids, adults, everyone), it was good to have an event that reminded people of the importance of taking care of the environment.
In my last post I spoke about mangoes and how spectacular they are. I thoroughly enjoyed mango season, but it's unfortunately coming close to its end. I have a funny story involving mangoes though. An older gentlemen (early 70's) was nice enough to take me to his mango tree one day to pick some for me. When we reached the tree I scoured the ground picking up all the mangoes that had fallen but were still somewhat edible and started eating them immediately. Mr. Morris, my friend, told me not to bother with those because most of them were too soft or rotten. I told him that one man's trash is another man's treasure and that quite a few of them looked alright to me (at least worth a good bite or two). So, while I was busy shoving mangoes down my gob, Mr. Morris was approaching the tree and looking for the best way to climb it. Now I don't mean to gloat, but I consider myself to be a pretty good tree climber. Looking at this tree, however, I was stumped as to how anyone (especially a 70 some year old) would even begin to think of how to climb it. Granted my mind was bit preoccupied with shoveling in the mangoes, and I wasn't closely inspecting it, I had no idea how he was planning on climbing it. Next thing I knew, he had his entire body wrapped around the large trunk and was shimmying his way up it. There I was, a reasonably fit, 23 year old, watching a man 3X plus my age doing something physical that I most likely would have failed miserably at. Yay pride check. Meanwhile, I'm still devouring mangoes like a little kid given free reign in a candy store. To add to it, most of the mangoes were, by St. Lucian standards, most likely "untouchable." After successfully climbing the tree with much ease, Mr. Morris took one look at me shoveling in mango after mango, chuckled, and told me if I don't stop eating mangoes I'll probably crap myself. I laughed loudly and responded, "it'll have been well worth it." So, in the end, I took an enormous bag of mangoes home, and soon discovered that breakfast, lunch, and dinner could largely be simplified. :) Oh, and yes, Mr. Morris wasn't kidding. I seriously pooped around 3 times a day for a solid couple of weeks (just in case you were curious).
I'm excited to report that, after lots of planning and coordinating, we've finally managed to organize a youth and sports club in Fond St. Jacques! Apparently awhile back there used to be a group focused mostly around football and cricket, but after some complications and drama the group split, causing organized activity for youth to largely come to a halt. So, the past couple of months I've been working with a few people in the community to try and unify the youth of Fond St. Jacques and form a new club. We focused on targeting a wide cross section of youth in the community by advertising that the club wants to undertake a variety of different types of activities (sports for both guys and girls, culture, education, debate, etc.), instead of just football and cricket. The night of the election we were a bit nervous because we weren't sure if people would turn out or not. We had registered a large number of people, but then again that doesn't always mean too much. Thankfully, nearly fifty people came and we were able to elect an executive board to move youth and sports forward in the community. I pray that God will continue to bless the group and that it'll start off on the right foot.
In collaboration with a fellow PCV and a Tour Guide Association, we organized World Environment Day activities. We had a screening of a film about climate change/global warming and how St. Lucia is affected as well as a hike. Things came together and we had a good turnout for the film and the hike as well. I think it had something to do with the fact that a free t-shirt was involved, but nevertheless it was good that people came. Considering that littering is a BIG problem here (kids, adults, everyone), it was good to have an event that reminded people of the importance of taking care of the environment.
In my last post I spoke about mangoes and how spectacular they are. I thoroughly enjoyed mango season, but it's unfortunately coming close to its end. I have a funny story involving mangoes though. An older gentlemen (early 70's) was nice enough to take me to his mango tree one day to pick some for me. When we reached the tree I scoured the ground picking up all the mangoes that had fallen but were still somewhat edible and started eating them immediately. Mr. Morris, my friend, told me not to bother with those because most of them were too soft or rotten. I told him that one man's trash is another man's treasure and that quite a few of them looked alright to me (at least worth a good bite or two). So, while I was busy shoving mangoes down my gob, Mr. Morris was approaching the tree and looking for the best way to climb it. Now I don't mean to gloat, but I consider myself to be a pretty good tree climber. Looking at this tree, however, I was stumped as to how anyone (especially a 70 some year old) would even begin to think of how to climb it. Granted my mind was bit preoccupied with shoveling in the mangoes, and I wasn't closely inspecting it, I had no idea how he was planning on climbing it. Next thing I knew, he had his entire body wrapped around the large trunk and was shimmying his way up it. There I was, a reasonably fit, 23 year old, watching a man 3X plus my age doing something physical that I most likely would have failed miserably at. Yay pride check. Meanwhile, I'm still devouring mangoes like a little kid given free reign in a candy store. To add to it, most of the mangoes were, by St. Lucian standards, most likely "untouchable." After successfully climbing the tree with much ease, Mr. Morris took one look at me shoveling in mango after mango, chuckled, and told me if I don't stop eating mangoes I'll probably crap myself. I laughed loudly and responded, "it'll have been well worth it." So, in the end, I took an enormous bag of mangoes home, and soon discovered that breakfast, lunch, and dinner could largely be simplified. :) Oh, and yes, Mr. Morris wasn't kidding. I seriously pooped around 3 times a day for a solid couple of weeks (just in case you were curious).
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Mango Conspiracies, Scuba, & Million Dollar Kansan
Mango season is back! I can’t convey in words how exciting this is. Let’s just say that as far as fruit is concerned, mangoes are the blueberry of St. Lucia. I can’t eat enough of them and have thoroughly enjoyed trying a few of the 100+ varieties found on the island. I do have my mango suspicions though. I think that there’s a big conspiracy behind the mango’s stringy fibrousness. I’m of the belief that back in the day a group of clever dentists decided to genetically modify mangoes to make them stringier, forcing people not so hygienically inclined to floss their teeth. Major props to them though…I’ve gone from once a week to at least 4 times a day now.
Along with football (soccer), cricket is one of the most popular sports on St. Lucia. After nearly 10 months down here, I think I have finally grasped most of the rules and understand generally how the game works. A few weeks ago the West Indies team, of which there is only one St. Lucian player, played the team from Sri Lanka. Because it was the only big match of the year played on St. Lucia, I went along to see what all the fuss was about. The game itself was decently entertaining, but what made the day was observing St. Lucian cheering antics and experiencing the atmosphere. Let’s just say that the combination of intense cricket passion and thirst for certain beverages that some St. Lucians have made it an interesting environment.
Even though I’m serving as a volunteer, I am living on a tropical island, and it would be downright silly of me not to take advantage of certain opportunities associated with such an environment. Consequently, out of nothing more than mere obligation, I’ve started taking scuba lessons with some fellow volunteers and will hopefully soon be certified. Alright, so coming from a slightly land-locked part of the US it actually might be something that I’ve kind of wanted to do for most all of my life, but that’s beside the point. Fortunately, since our group technically resides in St. Lucia, we were able to go through the certification classes for the local price instead of the tourist price, which saved us a considerable amount of money. I’ve done quite a bit of training in the pool, have gone on a 30 ft. dive in the ocean, and now just have a couple more dives left until I’ll officially be certified.
So to make myself feel a bit less guilty and to counter the impression you most likely now have that I’m bumming around on a beach for the better part of two years, I’ll give you a little update with how volunteer work has been going lately. I mentioned a few posts ago that I had started reading stories to a group of kids before school. Even though that was cool, we’ve moved it to another level and I’m excited that the kids have responded positively to it. Now it has taken the form of a “reading buddy” program, where older kids are paired with younger ones and help them work on their reading. I’m encouraged because the kids really seem to be enjoying it, and quite a few students in the middle grades have also joined in since it’s begun. Yay reading. I pray that the kids’ stay interested and keep it up.
The composting project with the Farmers’ Cooperative continues to make good progress. We’re still putting together the nuts and bolts of the proposal (boo hiss messy budgets) and are having meetings with some of the key stakeholders on St. Lucia (e.g., Solid Waste Management, Ministry of Agriculture) to get involvement at the national level that is needed for the project to really succeed.
After my jogging routine somewhat staggered to a near halt, I’m glad to have started back up more consistently in the early morning with a couple guys. It’s nice because now that there are three of us there’s an entire new level of accountability; if one person can’t do it for whatever reason, the other person is still hopefully there to motivate you to successfully roll out of bed at 5am. Both of the guys are former boxers, and one of them is even a former St. Lucian boxing champion who’s trying to get back into good boxing shape. Since I’ve thrown my fair share of punches back on the farm in KS, and have the natural disposition of a fighter, I’m seriously considering prematurely leaving the Peace Corps and training to become St. Lucia’s first “nonm blan” to capture the heavyweight crown.
In my last post I briefly wrote about an interesting experience I had coming back home on a bus involving gas and the Creole language. Since then, I’ve written a more comprehensive version of the story that tells the story from its true start. I thought I would add it on the end here. Exercise caution though. You might end up learning more Creole than you ever wanted to know.
The Human Body: An Advanced Course in Patois
While serving as a PCV for the past several months on St. Lucia, I have really enjoyed the opportunity to have a crack at learning another language, and have been taking Patios lessons alongside a fellow PCV. Although they have sadly come to an end, one of the most satisfying and amusing parts of my Patios lessons was learning seemingly inapplicable vocabulary that somehow extraordinarily enough found, and continues to find, its way into everyday conversations.
One day, when my fellow PCV was disappointingly absent attending a meeting, leaving me for a one-on-one showdown with her 50 some year old host mother, the topic at hand was parts of the body. After learning how to say everything from under belly to the names of individual toes, which seemed like more than enough information to reasonably cover, I closed my notebook and started getting prepared to leave. My Patois teacher, probably the sweetest, kindest, most religiously devout person on St. Lucia, looked at me like I was crazy and said “eh eh, we’re not finished yet.” What followed was an equally comprehensive tutorial on all of the other parts of the body that we had somehow earlier neglected to delve into. After struggling to maintain my composure, I finally erupted into laughter when she proceeded to ask me, in all seriousness I might add, if I knew how to say “anus” in Patois. Upon observing my reaction, she asked me what was so funny, and went on to say that she really doesn’t understand why people (including her Kindergarteners) think that such things are laughing matters. Smiling, I told her I understood that this aspect of the lesson should be approached with utmost seriousness, but that I was just very curious as to when the next occasion would present itself for me to whip out “twou bonda” in a conversation.
Little did I know that the opportunity would arise a number of times, including a few short weeks later on a bus coming back from a Catholic youth crusade. On the return trip some real cheeky fellow kept passing the most terribly smelling gas. After the first couple of offences everybody kept silent, attempting to imagine that nothing was happening, but soon all the windows were wide open and everyone was vexed and accusing someone else of being responsible. After paying close attention to the Patois that was being spoken, I picked up enough to realize that they were speculating as to whether or not I, the “nonm blan,” was the culprit. I defiantly responded, "Awa! Ou fou!" (no! you're crazy!), and then told them in English that I wasn't capable of producing such a rancid smell. A little while later, after my sense of smell was once again bombarded with a wave of vaporized rotten dasheen and green figs, I turned to my neighbor and, thinking fondly of Patois lessons of past, sternly told him, "Tjenbe twou bonda ou!" (Hold your anus!). Needless to say, it got quite a reaction.
So thanks to my language instructor for refusing to let me compromise my knowledge of the human body in Patois, and for showing me that the “twou bonda” certainly is not a laughing matter…it’s a serious ting.
Along with football (soccer), cricket is one of the most popular sports on St. Lucia. After nearly 10 months down here, I think I have finally grasped most of the rules and understand generally how the game works. A few weeks ago the West Indies team, of which there is only one St. Lucian player, played the team from Sri Lanka. Because it was the only big match of the year played on St. Lucia, I went along to see what all the fuss was about. The game itself was decently entertaining, but what made the day was observing St. Lucian cheering antics and experiencing the atmosphere. Let’s just say that the combination of intense cricket passion and thirst for certain beverages that some St. Lucians have made it an interesting environment.
Even though I’m serving as a volunteer, I am living on a tropical island, and it would be downright silly of me not to take advantage of certain opportunities associated with such an environment. Consequently, out of nothing more than mere obligation, I’ve started taking scuba lessons with some fellow volunteers and will hopefully soon be certified. Alright, so coming from a slightly land-locked part of the US it actually might be something that I’ve kind of wanted to do for most all of my life, but that’s beside the point. Fortunately, since our group technically resides in St. Lucia, we were able to go through the certification classes for the local price instead of the tourist price, which saved us a considerable amount of money. I’ve done quite a bit of training in the pool, have gone on a 30 ft. dive in the ocean, and now just have a couple more dives left until I’ll officially be certified.
So to make myself feel a bit less guilty and to counter the impression you most likely now have that I’m bumming around on a beach for the better part of two years, I’ll give you a little update with how volunteer work has been going lately. I mentioned a few posts ago that I had started reading stories to a group of kids before school. Even though that was cool, we’ve moved it to another level and I’m excited that the kids have responded positively to it. Now it has taken the form of a “reading buddy” program, where older kids are paired with younger ones and help them work on their reading. I’m encouraged because the kids really seem to be enjoying it, and quite a few students in the middle grades have also joined in since it’s begun. Yay reading. I pray that the kids’ stay interested and keep it up.
The composting project with the Farmers’ Cooperative continues to make good progress. We’re still putting together the nuts and bolts of the proposal (boo hiss messy budgets) and are having meetings with some of the key stakeholders on St. Lucia (e.g., Solid Waste Management, Ministry of Agriculture) to get involvement at the national level that is needed for the project to really succeed.
After my jogging routine somewhat staggered to a near halt, I’m glad to have started back up more consistently in the early morning with a couple guys. It’s nice because now that there are three of us there’s an entire new level of accountability; if one person can’t do it for whatever reason, the other person is still hopefully there to motivate you to successfully roll out of bed at 5am. Both of the guys are former boxers, and one of them is even a former St. Lucian boxing champion who’s trying to get back into good boxing shape. Since I’ve thrown my fair share of punches back on the farm in KS, and have the natural disposition of a fighter, I’m seriously considering prematurely leaving the Peace Corps and training to become St. Lucia’s first “nonm blan” to capture the heavyweight crown.
In my last post I briefly wrote about an interesting experience I had coming back home on a bus involving gas and the Creole language. Since then, I’ve written a more comprehensive version of the story that tells the story from its true start. I thought I would add it on the end here. Exercise caution though. You might end up learning more Creole than you ever wanted to know.
The Human Body: An Advanced Course in Patois
While serving as a PCV for the past several months on St. Lucia, I have really enjoyed the opportunity to have a crack at learning another language, and have been taking Patios lessons alongside a fellow PCV. Although they have sadly come to an end, one of the most satisfying and amusing parts of my Patios lessons was learning seemingly inapplicable vocabulary that somehow extraordinarily enough found, and continues to find, its way into everyday conversations.
One day, when my fellow PCV was disappointingly absent attending a meeting, leaving me for a one-on-one showdown with her 50 some year old host mother, the topic at hand was parts of the body. After learning how to say everything from under belly to the names of individual toes, which seemed like more than enough information to reasonably cover, I closed my notebook and started getting prepared to leave. My Patois teacher, probably the sweetest, kindest, most religiously devout person on St. Lucia, looked at me like I was crazy and said “eh eh, we’re not finished yet.” What followed was an equally comprehensive tutorial on all of the other parts of the body that we had somehow earlier neglected to delve into. After struggling to maintain my composure, I finally erupted into laughter when she proceeded to ask me, in all seriousness I might add, if I knew how to say “anus” in Patois. Upon observing my reaction, she asked me what was so funny, and went on to say that she really doesn’t understand why people (including her Kindergarteners) think that such things are laughing matters. Smiling, I told her I understood that this aspect of the lesson should be approached with utmost seriousness, but that I was just very curious as to when the next occasion would present itself for me to whip out “twou bonda” in a conversation.
Little did I know that the opportunity would arise a number of times, including a few short weeks later on a bus coming back from a Catholic youth crusade. On the return trip some real cheeky fellow kept passing the most terribly smelling gas. After the first couple of offences everybody kept silent, attempting to imagine that nothing was happening, but soon all the windows were wide open and everyone was vexed and accusing someone else of being responsible. After paying close attention to the Patois that was being spoken, I picked up enough to realize that they were speculating as to whether or not I, the “nonm blan,” was the culprit. I defiantly responded, "Awa! Ou fou!" (no! you're crazy!), and then told them in English that I wasn't capable of producing such a rancid smell. A little while later, after my sense of smell was once again bombarded with a wave of vaporized rotten dasheen and green figs, I turned to my neighbor and, thinking fondly of Patois lessons of past, sternly told him, "Tjenbe twou bonda ou!" (Hold your anus!). Needless to say, it got quite a reaction.
So thanks to my language instructor for refusing to let me compromise my knowledge of the human body in Patois, and for showing me that the “twou bonda” certainly is not a laughing matter…it’s a serious ting.
Friday, April 11, 2008
Donnie's Visit & Terrible Gas (Not related!)
As I mentioned in my previous post, Donnie Stuart, a friend of mine from Middlebury, paid me a visit for part of his spring break a couple of weeks ago. It was great to catch up, here about college friends, as well as attempt to show him some most of the hot spots in St. Lucia during his short trip. One of the highlights was climbing Petit Piton, one of the tallest mountains in St. Lucia. What started as a relatively moderate hike turned quite intense part way up, as we were forced to do a bit of rockclimbing using ropes. The scattered rain didn't really make the climb much easier either. The view from the top made it well worth it, however, as we could see not only all of Soufriere but also Gros Piton (another nearby mountain) and all the way down to the Southern tip of the island. Other highlights included a couple of trips to the beach, a rainforest walk to a nearby waterfall, a mud bath at the sulphur springs/volcano (all my wrinkles are gone), dominoes, and watching a bit of March Madness (yay Kansas!).
I went with the Catholic Youth Group to an event in another community last weekend. It was aimed at trying to revive youth involvement in the Church, which is lacking in many parishes. It was a good event, but we had quite an interesting trip back to Fond St. Jacques afterwards. On the trip back someone kept passing the most terribly smelling gas on the bus. At first nobody said anything, but after awhile all the windows were open and everyone was accusing someone else of being responsible. After paying close attention to the Patois (Creole) that was being spoken, I picked up enough to realize that they were speculating as to whether or not I was the culprit. I responded, "Awa! Ou fou!" (no! you're crazy!), and then told them in English that I wasn't capable of producing such rancid smells. A little while later, after my sense of smell was bombarded once again with a wave of something not so sweet, I turned to my neighbor and sternly told him to "Chebe tou bonda ou!" (Hold your butt!) People really got a kick out of that. I guess learning all of the parts of the body in my Patois lessons came in handy after all...
I went with the Catholic Youth Group to an event in another community last weekend. It was aimed at trying to revive youth involvement in the Church, which is lacking in many parishes. It was a good event, but we had quite an interesting trip back to Fond St. Jacques afterwards. On the trip back someone kept passing the most terribly smelling gas on the bus. At first nobody said anything, but after awhile all the windows were open and everyone was accusing someone else of being responsible. After paying close attention to the Patois (Creole) that was being spoken, I picked up enough to realize that they were speculating as to whether or not I was the culprit. I responded, "Awa! Ou fou!" (no! you're crazy!), and then told them in English that I wasn't capable of producing such rancid smells. A little while later, after my sense of smell was bombarded once again with a wave of something not so sweet, I turned to my neighbor and sternly told him to "Chebe tou bonda ou!" (Hold your butt!) People really got a kick out of that. I guess learning all of the parts of the body in my Patois lessons came in handy after all...
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Hitchhiking, Easter, and Old People Races!
Few things on this great earth beat the cool, refreshing, and somewhat exhilarating feeling of the open air blowing in your face on a hot day while riding in the back of a truck. Since coming to St. Lucia, one aspect of the culture that I have come to wholeheartedly embrace is the use of hitchhiking as a means to get around. Despite the fact that the public transportation system actually does run fairly efficiently, there are certain times (i.e. after 7pm; Sundays) when buses are difficult to find, if available at all. Hitchhiking is also common no matter what the time because in a relatively small community (and island) where people know one another, it only makes sense that someone with a vehicle would give another person a lift. One day after flagging down a truck and hopping in the back, I gradually noticed a pungent odor. I started wondering what the source of the smell was, sheepishly checked myself to make sure I hadn’t suddenly gotten a bad case of BO, and then glanced around and realized that I wasn’t the only one catching a lift. I was joined by a medium sized pig lying in a dasheen sack on the other side of the truck bed, unnoticeable except for his snout sticking out of the end of the bag. Perhaps he was hitching to the slaughter?
In the world of volunteer work, I’m excited that the composting project with the Farmers’ Cooperative has started promisingly. After submitting a brief project concept form describing our general idea, we received word from the funding organization that they are really interested in the project and, granted that our project includes certain components, will fund a substantial amount of it. I’ve enjoyed working with the Cooperative because so far they really seem to have an invested interest in seeing the project come to fruition and are therefore dedicated to actually committing time to make sure it happens. Plus, the principal contact person from the Cooperative that I’ve been working closely with usually ends every phone conversation by saying “respect, positive, one love, Irie" (a common word people yell in passing at one another meaning “safe”). How cool is that? ☺
I’ve also had the opportunity to start teaching tennis to a group of kids down on the Southern part of the island once every couple of weeks. The previous coach apparently is unable to do it now, so another Peace Corps volunteer and I are switching off every other Saturday in the meantime. It’s been nice to be able to pick up my racquet again.
Because Fond St. Jacques doesn’t have a market or store of any significant size, oftentimes businesses from Soufriere will bring bread or fish up. The fish truck usually comes at nights and gets people’s attention by blowing a conch shell as it passes through. I personally think that it’s pretty sweet, but I’m not quite as big a fan of the bread van that usually slowly creeps by in the morning around 5:30 honking loudly for everyone to hear. I’ve gotten used to the roosters crowing ridiculously early, but as of yet I’ve been unable to tune out the noisy bread guy. "Pay la!" (keep quiet!)
My Easter experience in St. Lucia was quite different than previous years in the States. As with Christmas, some people celebrate by attending an all night party leading into Easter Sunday. After my Christmas experience I had enough foresight this time around to realize that wasn’t exactly my cup of tea and forego the party. On Easter Sunday the church had a Bazaar in the afternoon, which is basically a fair of sorts aimed at raising money for the church. I helped out at the “lucky dip” game, in which participants pay 2 dollars to reach in a bag and choose a number which has a corresponding prize. Of course some of the prizes were more desirable than others. I found it quite funny when grown men would come over with high hopes of winning a bottle of rum, only to end up with a not so coveted blue polka dotted women’s bra. Soon after yelling “awa!” (no!) and launching the bra out of sight, they would come crawling back to play once again, only to face the same undesirable fate. And in case you were wondering, no, the third time wasn’t a charm.
This past Monday I volunteered at the Senior games, which is essentially a track and field meet for older persons. It ran like any typical track meet, except they included a few additional activities like lime and spoon, sack races, three legged races, etc. One of the highlights was when one of the three legged race teams that had seemingly mastered the art collapsed about 2 feet from the finish line, only to watch most all of the teams pass them by. One of the relays was pretty comical as well, because after his teammates had gained an impressive lead over all the other teams, the anchor man on one team decided to slowly jog along, coaxing the other teams to try and catch up. After hopping on one leg about 10 meters from the finish line, the guy accidentally dropped the baton and ended up losing the race. I couldn't have been more thrilled...serves the little putz right.
Well, that’s all I’ve got time for now because I’m heading off to the airport to pick up good ole Donnie Stuart, a friend from Middlebury College who’s coming to visit for part of spring break. "Mwen pa sa espewe!" (I can’t wait!)
In the world of volunteer work, I’m excited that the composting project with the Farmers’ Cooperative has started promisingly. After submitting a brief project concept form describing our general idea, we received word from the funding organization that they are really interested in the project and, granted that our project includes certain components, will fund a substantial amount of it. I’ve enjoyed working with the Cooperative because so far they really seem to have an invested interest in seeing the project come to fruition and are therefore dedicated to actually committing time to make sure it happens. Plus, the principal contact person from the Cooperative that I’ve been working closely with usually ends every phone conversation by saying “respect, positive, one love, Irie" (a common word people yell in passing at one another meaning “safe”). How cool is that? ☺
I’ve also had the opportunity to start teaching tennis to a group of kids down on the Southern part of the island once every couple of weeks. The previous coach apparently is unable to do it now, so another Peace Corps volunteer and I are switching off every other Saturday in the meantime. It’s been nice to be able to pick up my racquet again.
Because Fond St. Jacques doesn’t have a market or store of any significant size, oftentimes businesses from Soufriere will bring bread or fish up. The fish truck usually comes at nights and gets people’s attention by blowing a conch shell as it passes through. I personally think that it’s pretty sweet, but I’m not quite as big a fan of the bread van that usually slowly creeps by in the morning around 5:30 honking loudly for everyone to hear. I’ve gotten used to the roosters crowing ridiculously early, but as of yet I’ve been unable to tune out the noisy bread guy. "Pay la!" (keep quiet!)
My Easter experience in St. Lucia was quite different than previous years in the States. As with Christmas, some people celebrate by attending an all night party leading into Easter Sunday. After my Christmas experience I had enough foresight this time around to realize that wasn’t exactly my cup of tea and forego the party. On Easter Sunday the church had a Bazaar in the afternoon, which is basically a fair of sorts aimed at raising money for the church. I helped out at the “lucky dip” game, in which participants pay 2 dollars to reach in a bag and choose a number which has a corresponding prize. Of course some of the prizes were more desirable than others. I found it quite funny when grown men would come over with high hopes of winning a bottle of rum, only to end up with a not so coveted blue polka dotted women’s bra. Soon after yelling “awa!” (no!) and launching the bra out of sight, they would come crawling back to play once again, only to face the same undesirable fate. And in case you were wondering, no, the third time wasn’t a charm.
This past Monday I volunteered at the Senior games, which is essentially a track and field meet for older persons. It ran like any typical track meet, except they included a few additional activities like lime and spoon, sack races, three legged races, etc. One of the highlights was when one of the three legged race teams that had seemingly mastered the art collapsed about 2 feet from the finish line, only to watch most all of the teams pass them by. One of the relays was pretty comical as well, because after his teammates had gained an impressive lead over all the other teams, the anchor man on one team decided to slowly jog along, coaxing the other teams to try and catch up. After hopping on one leg about 10 meters from the finish line, the guy accidentally dropped the baton and ended up losing the race. I couldn't have been more thrilled...serves the little putz right.
Well, that’s all I’ve got time for now because I’m heading off to the airport to pick up good ole Donnie Stuart, a friend from Middlebury College who’s coming to visit for part of spring break. "Mwen pa sa espewe!" (I can’t wait!)
Monday, March 3, 2008
Independence Fun/Chaos & Parents' Visit
When I first got to St. Lucia and was not yet aware that I would be staying here for the entirety of my service, I purchased a hat from a tourist shop that has the words “live slow” written on the front of it. Coming from fast paced America (and college life nonetheless) where people oftentimes can’t find time to remember to breathe, I couldn’t have been more excited about embracing a culture that values relaxing and doesn’t pay so much attention to time. Little did I know how difficult aspects of adapting to this mindset would be, especially given that successfully completing the amount of work that I’ve been involved with this past month isn’t easily done with a laid back attitude.
My good friend Vincent and I planned a Health and Fitness walk for February 17th as well as traditional St. Lucian activities for Independence Day (22nd). We tried to get more young guys in the Youth and Sports organization involved in the planning of the activities, but unfortunately it ended up being the two of us arranging everything. It was no small task as we had to make the budget, solicit funds from businesses, order and print t-shirts, sign people up, advertise, buy prizes, etc. Needless to say, we needed to be on top of our game to get everything accomplished. Through much of it I found myself feeling that it was essential to get some of the tasks done ahead of time (as I’m used to in the States), but because of the cultural norms here related to time, as well as simple lack of manpower, certain tasks got pushed back until last minute. For the health and fitness walk we ended up peeling grapefruits until 1 in the morning, waking up at 4 to make juice and slice carrots, and we finally had everything ready by 6:15 for the start at 6:30. On Independence Day we had to wake up just before 5am to retrieve a cut and stripped tree from the rainforest (which took about 6 hours due to last minute falling through of transport), grease and erect the pole, collect a pig from town to grease, and so on.
Trying to stay relaxed and not worry about the clock ticking during all the last minute arranging was beyond my capabilities. It was comparable to starting a research paper on the history of the world the morning it’s due and trying to maintain one’s composure. Not happening for this guy. Anyway, I’ve since modified the slogan on the hat from “live slow” to “live slow but keep moving.” In the end, thanks to nothing but the miraculous grace of God everything ended up coming together for both activities. People really enjoyed the fitness walk and fortunately we’ve been able to continue it early every Sunday morning to encourage exercise and healthy living in the community, which is essential given that it has been speculated that the Caribbean has the highest prevalence of diabetes in the world.
So you might be wondering what the heck we were doing with a pole, a pig, and a bunch of oil and grease for Independence Day. Two of the most traditional Independence Day activities in St. Lucia are “greasy pole” and “greasy pig.” For greasy pole, a stripped tree entirely covered in oil and grease is erected with a bottle tied at the top. The first person who can successful reach the top and untie the bottle (no ladder, etc.) gets $100 and a bottle of rum (a big motivator). Needless to say, it’s pretty funny to watch and in the end people are forced to form a pyramid to reach the top. Greasy pig involves covering a pig with oil and grease, slapping it on the butt, and allowing the first person to successfully catch the slippery pig to keep it. Between helping oil and grease the pig and the pole, I ended up looking pretty dirty. People started saying, “hey, you’ve turned black today!” Little did they know how many levels that comment was operating on. Not only had my skin turned a different shade, but having been essentially initiated into the last minute chaos that characterizes the planning of many projects here, I couldn’t help but feel Lucian in a completely different respect. Other activities we had were sack races, three legged races, a fitness contest, a water balloon toss, and tug of war.
I really enjoyed having my parents come to pay me a visit, as it provided them with the opportunity to see firsthand what I’ve been describing in emails, on the phone, etc. as well as the chance to meet friends and newfound family. Unless they were lying to me, I can say that they thoroughly enjoyed their trip. Although they of course liked the beach, bathing in sulfur water from the volcano, seeing the rainforest/waterfalls, and zip-lining, etc. I think what they really took away from the trip was a much better understanding of St. Lucian culture through meeting my friends, experiencing Independence Day, coming to the school, and living at my house instead of in an isolated hotel removed from local community life. It was great to enjoy spending a relaxed time with them after a hectic month. We had some good conversations that helped me further reflect on my experience so far as well as express some things that blog entries and emails can’t quite convey. One of the most classic moments from the trip came after I introduced my parents to a local shop owner. After a couple minutes, my mom asked me, “are you able to understand what they’re saying in Creole?” I smile and respond, “that’s English mom.”
My good friend Vincent and I planned a Health and Fitness walk for February 17th as well as traditional St. Lucian activities for Independence Day (22nd). We tried to get more young guys in the Youth and Sports organization involved in the planning of the activities, but unfortunately it ended up being the two of us arranging everything. It was no small task as we had to make the budget, solicit funds from businesses, order and print t-shirts, sign people up, advertise, buy prizes, etc. Needless to say, we needed to be on top of our game to get everything accomplished. Through much of it I found myself feeling that it was essential to get some of the tasks done ahead of time (as I’m used to in the States), but because of the cultural norms here related to time, as well as simple lack of manpower, certain tasks got pushed back until last minute. For the health and fitness walk we ended up peeling grapefruits until 1 in the morning, waking up at 4 to make juice and slice carrots, and we finally had everything ready by 6:15 for the start at 6:30. On Independence Day we had to wake up just before 5am to retrieve a cut and stripped tree from the rainforest (which took about 6 hours due to last minute falling through of transport), grease and erect the pole, collect a pig from town to grease, and so on.
Trying to stay relaxed and not worry about the clock ticking during all the last minute arranging was beyond my capabilities. It was comparable to starting a research paper on the history of the world the morning it’s due and trying to maintain one’s composure. Not happening for this guy. Anyway, I’ve since modified the slogan on the hat from “live slow” to “live slow but keep moving.” In the end, thanks to nothing but the miraculous grace of God everything ended up coming together for both activities. People really enjoyed the fitness walk and fortunately we’ve been able to continue it early every Sunday morning to encourage exercise and healthy living in the community, which is essential given that it has been speculated that the Caribbean has the highest prevalence of diabetes in the world.
So you might be wondering what the heck we were doing with a pole, a pig, and a bunch of oil and grease for Independence Day. Two of the most traditional Independence Day activities in St. Lucia are “greasy pole” and “greasy pig.” For greasy pole, a stripped tree entirely covered in oil and grease is erected with a bottle tied at the top. The first person who can successful reach the top and untie the bottle (no ladder, etc.) gets $100 and a bottle of rum (a big motivator). Needless to say, it’s pretty funny to watch and in the end people are forced to form a pyramid to reach the top. Greasy pig involves covering a pig with oil and grease, slapping it on the butt, and allowing the first person to successfully catch the slippery pig to keep it. Between helping oil and grease the pig and the pole, I ended up looking pretty dirty. People started saying, “hey, you’ve turned black today!” Little did they know how many levels that comment was operating on. Not only had my skin turned a different shade, but having been essentially initiated into the last minute chaos that characterizes the planning of many projects here, I couldn’t help but feel Lucian in a completely different respect. Other activities we had were sack races, three legged races, a fitness contest, a water balloon toss, and tug of war.
I really enjoyed having my parents come to pay me a visit, as it provided them with the opportunity to see firsthand what I’ve been describing in emails, on the phone, etc. as well as the chance to meet friends and newfound family. Unless they were lying to me, I can say that they thoroughly enjoyed their trip. Although they of course liked the beach, bathing in sulfur water from the volcano, seeing the rainforest/waterfalls, and zip-lining, etc. I think what they really took away from the trip was a much better understanding of St. Lucian culture through meeting my friends, experiencing Independence Day, coming to the school, and living at my house instead of in an isolated hotel removed from local community life. It was great to enjoy spending a relaxed time with them after a hectic month. We had some good conversations that helped me further reflect on my experience so far as well as express some things that blog entries and emails can’t quite convey. One of the most classic moments from the trip came after I introduced my parents to a local shop owner. After a couple minutes, my mom asked me, “are you able to understand what they’re saying in Creole?” I smile and respond, “that’s English mom.”
Monday, January 28, 2008
"You're not fat!" & My Life as a Father
So a few days ago I was taking a walk with my Bojangles and decided to visit my host mother in her garden. After saying hello, she tells me that she has heard that I’m pretty good at climbing trees. “Mwen enmen moute pye bwa” (I love climbing trees) I respond, “especially the grapefruit tree in front of my house”. She then asks if I can climb a different nearby grapefruit tree for her and pick some. After picking a bunch she gives me one to eat. While I’m peeling it I hear her say “I’m sorry.” I confusedly respond, “for what?” I hear her reply, “I fat.” “What,” I ask, perplexed as to why my 69 year old host mom who works in the garden nearly everyday would be concerned about, and more puzzling, apologizing for her weight. “I fat” I hear her say again. “No you’re not,” I assure her. “You look good.” “No, no, I fart…I pass gas out the back,” she says, finally bringing the added clarity (and awkwardness) to the conversation. “Oh…ok,” I say chuckling. Yet another classic encounter with MaPego
After having done my laundry by hand for awhile now it’s not nearly as much of a pain as it used to be, and I think my clothes smell decently after washing them (I don’t know if that’s to say they’re really clean though). It made my day though when my elderly neighbor Sil saw my white laundry hanging up and asked me who did it. After jokingly telling her white guys can scrub a bit too, she laughed and told me she was impressed by how white they were and didn’t believe a man could wash so well. Her comment was flattering, but I’m sure she wouldn’t have been so complimentary had she taken a closer look…
So I’m excited to be starting my very own garden. Despite being from Kansas, I sadly know very little about gardening. Fortunately, however, a farmer from the area who I met on a walk allowed me to tag along with him for a day and learn a bit/help him out over the Christmas break, and told me that if I purchased some seeds from the Farmers’ Cooperative he would help me plant some things (“do a little ting” as they say they it) on his land. I’ve since planted some cucumbers and hope to also have a try at some watermelon, carrots, and okra.
Fatherhood has generally been treating me well, although it does have its trying times. Don’t worry…I’m referring to the dog, not a baby Bojangles (although I did have an old guy seriously tell me that I should “leave at least 2 mixed babies down here when I go” ) I’ve been working to break him of his aggressive possession of food (aggravated by ornery school children who try and simultaneously feed and play with him when I’m gone), as well as rid him of his tic infestation (I picked 10+ off of him at one time…have since gotten a tic/flea collar). He’s a sweet dog though and people in the community always ask me without fail where he is if I pass by without him.
So between half-washing my clothes and having awkward conversations with my host mom, what have I been doing, you might ask? The New Year has brought some new projects to work on that I hope will be successful. I’ve started a reading club at the primary school. I meet with the kids for about a half hour before school, read to them (currently “The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe”), and ask them questions about what’s going on in the story. I’m encouraged by how engaged and attentive the children are. During the normal school hours trying to get even a small group of students to follow along as each student reads can oftentimes be like pulling teeth, but when it’s in the context of being read to, they usually quickly congregate. I’m hoping that the reading club will help them realize that reading can be fun and enjoyable. Last week was also the first week that I started teaching the 3rd graders how to play the recorder. It was quite the challenge having 30 of them all together at once, each with an object that has the potential of making noise at their disposal. The lesson went alright, but it was challenging to keep them quiet and get around to each one to see whether they understood what was being taught.
I’ve also started working with the Farmers’ Cooperative to put together a proposal for available grant money through the Global Environment Facility (GEF), a United Nations program that gives out grants to CBOs and NGOs that address global environmental problems at the local level. We’re hoping to build off an organic farming GEF project that is already underway by doing something with composting (using a shredder). We also might look into the possibility of using coconut husks as a means to produce seedlings. It’s still in the early stages, so who knows where it might go. I feel a bit out of my element with the agricultural side of things, but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to assist with the proposal writing and coordinating of the project details.
I’m continuing giving the violin lessons and have started with more students in another community. I now have 17 students and am encouraged by the progress that some of them are making. The chance to help with the tennis program I mentioned previously unfortunately ended up falling through, but I’ve been playing on Fridays with a junior national girl’s champ after violin lessons. She’s a solid player and it’s been great to have the opportunity to pick up my racquet again.
I’m excited that my parents are coming in late February to visit for about a week and a half. It should be a lot of fun showing them around and introducing them to people, etc. If anyone else feels the need to escape to a tropical paradise for a little while, know that you’re just a plane ticket away! American Airlines just started some really reasonably priced flights out of NYC, depending on the time of year…
After having done my laundry by hand for awhile now it’s not nearly as much of a pain as it used to be, and I think my clothes smell decently after washing them (I don’t know if that’s to say they’re really clean though). It made my day though when my elderly neighbor Sil saw my white laundry hanging up and asked me who did it. After jokingly telling her white guys can scrub a bit too, she laughed and told me she was impressed by how white they were and didn’t believe a man could wash so well. Her comment was flattering, but I’m sure she wouldn’t have been so complimentary had she taken a closer look…
So I’m excited to be starting my very own garden. Despite being from Kansas, I sadly know very little about gardening. Fortunately, however, a farmer from the area who I met on a walk allowed me to tag along with him for a day and learn a bit/help him out over the Christmas break, and told me that if I purchased some seeds from the Farmers’ Cooperative he would help me plant some things (“do a little ting” as they say they it) on his land. I’ve since planted some cucumbers and hope to also have a try at some watermelon, carrots, and okra.
Fatherhood has generally been treating me well, although it does have its trying times. Don’t worry…I’m referring to the dog, not a baby Bojangles (although I did have an old guy seriously tell me that I should “leave at least 2 mixed babies down here when I go” ) I’ve been working to break him of his aggressive possession of food (aggravated by ornery school children who try and simultaneously feed and play with him when I’m gone), as well as rid him of his tic infestation (I picked 10+ off of him at one time…have since gotten a tic/flea collar). He’s a sweet dog though and people in the community always ask me without fail where he is if I pass by without him.
So between half-washing my clothes and having awkward conversations with my host mom, what have I been doing, you might ask? The New Year has brought some new projects to work on that I hope will be successful. I’ve started a reading club at the primary school. I meet with the kids for about a half hour before school, read to them (currently “The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe”), and ask them questions about what’s going on in the story. I’m encouraged by how engaged and attentive the children are. During the normal school hours trying to get even a small group of students to follow along as each student reads can oftentimes be like pulling teeth, but when it’s in the context of being read to, they usually quickly congregate. I’m hoping that the reading club will help them realize that reading can be fun and enjoyable. Last week was also the first week that I started teaching the 3rd graders how to play the recorder. It was quite the challenge having 30 of them all together at once, each with an object that has the potential of making noise at their disposal. The lesson went alright, but it was challenging to keep them quiet and get around to each one to see whether they understood what was being taught.
I’ve also started working with the Farmers’ Cooperative to put together a proposal for available grant money through the Global Environment Facility (GEF), a United Nations program that gives out grants to CBOs and NGOs that address global environmental problems at the local level. We’re hoping to build off an organic farming GEF project that is already underway by doing something with composting (using a shredder). We also might look into the possibility of using coconut husks as a means to produce seedlings. It’s still in the early stages, so who knows where it might go. I feel a bit out of my element with the agricultural side of things, but I’m hoping that I’ll be able to assist with the proposal writing and coordinating of the project details.
I’m continuing giving the violin lessons and have started with more students in another community. I now have 17 students and am encouraged by the progress that some of them are making. The chance to help with the tennis program I mentioned previously unfortunately ended up falling through, but I’ve been playing on Fridays with a junior national girl’s champ after violin lessons. She’s a solid player and it’s been great to have the opportunity to pick up my racquet again.
I’m excited that my parents are coming in late February to visit for about a week and a half. It should be a lot of fun showing them around and introducing them to people, etc. If anyone else feels the need to escape to a tropical paradise for a little while, know that you’re just a plane ticket away! American Airlines just started some really reasonably priced flights out of NYC, depending on the time of year…
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