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Well, it isn't even the New Year and I've already decided to ditch one of my resolutions. I decided to go easy this year and my two resolutions were to A) be on top of people's birthdays and B) call my brother's family at least weekly and on holidays.
Have managed to annoy Matt already, though am not sure how (Matt, if you read this, I'm sorry for whatever I did wrong). In fact, I was calling him Old Year's Day eve - I didn't realize that was his anniversary (in my defense, mom is sending me the list of important dates via snail mail - and it isn't 2010 yet). Happy I'd lucked out (though the sitter sounded really worried when she finally answered the phone - I was calling every 1/2 hour because I know better than to just leave a message. Then she sounded scared when I said I was Matt's sister . . .makes me wonder what she has been told...), when called back, I wished them a happy anniversary and verified that he had bought Vicky a suitable present. (Ask the Nigerian taxi driver - this is my responsibility.) Yeah. He wasn't happy to hear from me. Keep in mind I'd taken two Advil pm (can you say loopy?) and could still tell he wasn't happy.
Then, knowing Matt would be busy tonight, I left a "Happy Old Year's Night" message on his cell phone. He called me back and was quite snide. Apparently, I suck at this spontaneous, friendly call-thing. So, am ditching that resolution. Am still planning on being on top of the 2010 dates - but my apologies to anyone who has an important day in January. Given the mail, my new (and only) resolution for 2010 is to be on top of birthdays from February through December. Will call my brother on major holidays (talk to you at Easter, Matt!) and family birthdays.
2010 hasn't even started yet and I'm failing my resolutions. Can't decide if the test run was good because I can adjust the resolutions in the next 41 minutes or bad, because the calendar hasn't turned and I've already failed.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Oops again
Yet another brain cramp - apparently the editor I was using corrected "Frederiksted" to "Fredericksted." So, from now on I'm typing directly into Blogger.
Everyone (excluding the partiers at the laundromat) has been extremely pissy today. I swore I was going to find a clock tower and a 30-aught-6 to remedy the problem, only to learn the island is crawling with Secret Service. Apparently the Carter family has rented out the Comanche and the Bidens are St. Thomas.
*sigh* So no more kidding jokes about clock towers and guns. I'm assuming if the TSA Nazis have no sense of humor, the Secret Service might shoot first and then not even bother asking questions...
Everyone (excluding the partiers at the laundromat) has been extremely pissy today. I swore I was going to find a clock tower and a 30-aught-6 to remedy the problem, only to learn the island is crawling with Secret Service. Apparently the Carter family has rented out the Comanche and the Bidens are St. Thomas.
*sigh* So no more kidding jokes about clock towers and guns. I'm assuming if the TSA Nazis have no sense of humor, the Secret Service might shoot first and then not even bother asking questions...
Blonde Moment
Most have suffered a brain cramp. I'll be getting up Saturday morning, rather than tomorrow for the parade. Sheesh. Where's my head this week?
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Old Year's Night
While the rest of the world celebrates New Year's Eve, Crucians will be celebrating Old Year's Night. I confess, I like the poetry of Old Year's Night. It seems to have more weight, more reflection, more umphh, than New Year's Eve.
Yesterday was Juvee. It's a tramp that begins in Fredericksted and people literally dance across the island following behind bands. I know you are shocked to learn, I'm not willing to be across island at 5:00am for a double-digit-mile march/dance.
Last year, I had the foresight to arrange to stay with the friends with whom I was celebrating Old Year's Night. That way, I would not have to drive. This year, I didn't think so far in advance. The one thing you don't want to do down here is drive on Old Year's Night/New Year's morning. Crucian driving is . . . different. It took me almost a year to figure out the hand signals used by cars without turn signals. Trust me, you will not find them in any manual.
This year, I've decided to attend Carnival. Because Three Kings Day falls on a Wednesday, the parade is being held early. It begins in Fredericksted on Saturday morning at 10:00 am. I hope will have my camera figured out and can upload pictures. It will be a colorful, wonderful event! Definitely worth staying home Old Year's Night to get up at Oh-Dark-Thirty to drive across island and get a good parking/view place.
Wish me luck!
Yesterday was Juvee. It's a tramp that begins in Fredericksted and people literally dance across the island following behind bands. I know you are shocked to learn, I'm not willing to be across island at 5:00am for a double-digit-mile march/dance.
Last year, I had the foresight to arrange to stay with the friends with whom I was celebrating Old Year's Night. That way, I would not have to drive. This year, I didn't think so far in advance. The one thing you don't want to do down here is drive on Old Year's Night/New Year's morning. Crucian driving is . . . different. It took me almost a year to figure out the hand signals used by cars without turn signals. Trust me, you will not find them in any manual.
This year, I've decided to attend Carnival. Because Three Kings Day falls on a Wednesday, the parade is being held early. It begins in Fredericksted on Saturday morning at 10:00 am. I hope will have my camera figured out and can upload pictures. It will be a colorful, wonderful event! Definitely worth staying home Old Year's Night to get up at Oh-Dark-Thirty to drive across island and get a good parking/view place.
Wish me luck!
Sunday, December 27, 2009
Judiasm v. Christianity
Wow. What a difference. (Warning - difficult religious issues follow- I encourage my family to stop reading!)
I absolutely adore a friend's daughter. Her name is Beth. I have spent a great deal of time with her and been blown away by the differences between Christianity and Judiasm.
Beth has attended Jewish schools her whole life. I was stunned to learn that Judiasm encourges difficult questions. Having been raised by a religion that ulitmately boils down to "I believe God had a hand in it, stop asking questions!" I was stunned to learn that Judiasm not only encourages questions but applauds questions that have no obvious answers. In fact, if you ask a question that cannot immediately be answered/countered in Judiasm, you are cheered.
Wow! What a difference. Being raised Southern Baptist, if you ask enough questions, "scholars" and "adults" and "leaders" get angry and ultimately say - "I just believe God had a hand in it." Let me tell you, it is difficult to explain to a teenage Jew working towards her Bat Mitzvah that if you ask enough difficult questions, people get mad and discard their intellect.
Beth's questions are intelligent and come from a religious tradition that prizes intellect. Her mother converted from Catholicism, so she is fairly well-versed in Christianity. She has asked the questions I've been asking since junior high - eg,
Unlike my family, after reading the Da Vinci Code, I purchased "Holy Blood, Holy Grail." I have explored the Gnostic Gospels (aka the Dead Sea scrolls), studied Celtic Witchcraft (which has as much to do with the birth of Christianity as Judaism), and am currently reading on Buddhism.
I have a great deal of respect for Judaism. I was surprised to learn that the Jewish texts have no vowels and no breaks between "words" or "sentences." I admire that. The purpose is to prevent the Word of God from ossifying to dead dogma (don't tell the mega-churches. They'll freak). When a Jew reads at Bar/Bat Mitzvah, they are not simply showing off their Hebrew skills - they are presenting the Word of God as revealed to them through their study of a text that (again) has no vowels or breaks.
I don't want anyone to take this post to mean that I have no belief in the Divine. However, I believe a Pagan friend of mine might be on the right track. If you ask her if she believes in Jesus, she says "absolutely". If you ask her if she is a Christian, the answer is, "absolutely not."
I absolutely adore a friend's daughter. Her name is Beth. I have spent a great deal of time with her and been blown away by the differences between Christianity and Judiasm.
Beth has attended Jewish schools her whole life. I was stunned to learn that Judiasm encourges difficult questions. Having been raised by a religion that ulitmately boils down to "I believe God had a hand in it, stop asking questions!" I was stunned to learn that Judiasm not only encourages questions but applauds questions that have no obvious answers. In fact, if you ask a question that cannot immediately be answered/countered in Judiasm, you are cheered.
Wow! What a difference. Being raised Southern Baptist, if you ask enough questions, "scholars" and "adults" and "leaders" get angry and ultimately say - "I just believe God had a hand in it." Let me tell you, it is difficult to explain to a teenage Jew working towards her Bat Mitzvah that if you ask enough difficult questions, people get mad and discard their intellect.
Beth's questions are intelligent and come from a religious tradition that prizes intellect. Her mother converted from Catholicism, so she is fairly well-versed in Christianity. She has asked the questions I've been asking since junior high - eg,
- "Why do Protestants ignore the teachings (dogma) of Peter (the first Pope) - a disciple of Christ - but subscribe to the teachings of Paul - a latter day saint - while disavowing all all other latter day saints?"
- and why do they believe those who believe the teachings of Peter are going to hell?
- "Why is Paul believed but not Mohammed and Joseph Smith?"
- "If you haven't read the teachings of Mohammed and other 'latter day saints' how can you discount them and still support Paul?"
- "Why do you believe the teachings of Paul, but not teachings that Jesus - who no one disputes was a first century Rabbi - taught?" (Eg, Maccabees, Enoch, etc.)
- "Why disregard the most sacred of Jewish texts (the Kabbalah?) which it is believed by both Christians and Jews that Jesus remained behind to teach?"
- "Why do you believe King James's Bible is correct when he threw out texts taught by Jesus himself?"'
- If Mary was a Levite, how is Jesus a descendant of David?
- Given that Revelations was written by a Kabbalah scholar, why doesn't Christianity understand that it is not literal (and those morons who wrote "Left Behind" in no way understand or accurately portray it)?
- How can you study the Old Testament without learning Hebrew and studying it properly?
- Antiabortionists claim one verse in Psalms (again, not written with vowels or breaks) to support abortion/murdering abortion doctors - yet Judaism (and again, Jesus was a Jew and Rabbi) teaches life begins at birth. If Jesus didn't preach against abortion and homosexuality - how do you rely on "evangelists" to speak for Jesus?
Unlike my family, after reading the Da Vinci Code, I purchased "Holy Blood, Holy Grail." I have explored the Gnostic Gospels (aka the Dead Sea scrolls), studied Celtic Witchcraft (which has as much to do with the birth of Christianity as Judaism), and am currently reading on Buddhism.
I have a great deal of respect for Judaism. I was surprised to learn that the Jewish texts have no vowels and no breaks between "words" or "sentences." I admire that. The purpose is to prevent the Word of God from ossifying to dead dogma (don't tell the mega-churches. They'll freak). When a Jew reads at Bar/Bat Mitzvah, they are not simply showing off their Hebrew skills - they are presenting the Word of God as revealed to them through their study of a text that (again) has no vowels or breaks.
I don't want anyone to take this post to mean that I have no belief in the Divine. However, I believe a Pagan friend of mine might be on the right track. If you ask her if she believes in Jesus, she says "absolutely". If you ask her if she is a Christian, the answer is, "absolutely not."
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Happy Christmas Second Day!
Merry Christmas one and all! Today is December 26, 2009. Known as Boxing Day in many parts of the world; on St. Croix, today is Christmas Second Day.
Christmas is in full swing down here. Starting at sundown on Christmas day, the twelve days of Christmas begin. They continue until sundown on January 5th. January 6th is Three Kings Day, the celebration of the day that the Wisemen arrived (granted it was three years later, but celebrated all the same). Three Kings Day is the start of Epiphany in the church calendar.
I spent today learning the joys of Crucian construction. I helped a friend rerun plumbing. Plumbing should always be run outside a wall down here. Remember, our houses are made of concrete (including the interior walls). Watching Pam deal with carving out two concrete walls has convinced me that aesthetics should be put aside in favor of being able to actually reach the plumbing (oh, and never never never use copper down here!).
After gluing PVC together in a closet, we might have been a little loopy with glue fumes. Still we moved on to removing the sink and toilet. After contorting ourselves into bizarre and painful positions and fighting with the two L-brackets beneath the sink - struggling with the part screwed into the tile wall - Pam told me to stop fighting with the extremely rusty screws. I turned to see her holding an L-bracket in her hand. Turns out the marble sink, inlaid with 24 karat gold, was not attached to anything. It was sitting on the L-brackets and front legs. Given we have 200-350 earthquakes a month (don't even get me started on the hurricanes) - and that sink has been there for at least two decades - I find it nothing short of miraculous.
Laughing a little hysterically - did I mention the glue? - we went back and easily lifted the front legs out of the tile. Seriously. The sink was attached to nothing! Not the wall. Not the legs. Nada. (Oh! And the PVC wasn't even glued together beneath the sink.) Pam is a very blessed woman!
I jokingly suggested the toilet might not be bolted or caulked down. I was wrong. It was no joke. After separating the tank from the seat, we discovered there was nothing other than weight holding the freakin' thing in place. We were forced to lock the cats on the porch to avoid them escaping, and tripping over the two dogs, we managed to get the seat outside. Not easy while laughing like loons!
I no longer have any qualms forcing Pam to help me hang curtains, my latest cross-stitch, and fixing my screen door. Did I mention that after cutting water and flushing the toilet there is still a ton of water in a decades old pink toilet? (And did I mention I was barefoot? *shudder*)
Is life in Paradise exciting or what? Okay, signing off now. For those of you who read this thing - you can choose to follow the blog and be notified when I update it (am trying to track stats on those reading this - if you repeatedly check it, the stats get wonky. Of course, I'd rather you check repeatedly than not read it. =)) Also - those obnoxious ads at the top - do me a favor and click them when you are done reading. Wait for the page to load and move on with your life. Allegedly, I make money with those.
Got a new camera for Christmas. Am definitely attending Carnival and getting pictures this year! Am also going to be taking pictures of the signs down here. Trust me, you'll get a kick out of them!
Christmas is in full swing down here. Starting at sundown on Christmas day, the twelve days of Christmas begin. They continue until sundown on January 5th. January 6th is Three Kings Day, the celebration of the day that the Wisemen arrived (granted it was three years later, but celebrated all the same). Three Kings Day is the start of Epiphany in the church calendar.
I spent today learning the joys of Crucian construction. I helped a friend rerun plumbing. Plumbing should always be run outside a wall down here. Remember, our houses are made of concrete (including the interior walls). Watching Pam deal with carving out two concrete walls has convinced me that aesthetics should be put aside in favor of being able to actually reach the plumbing (oh, and never never never use copper down here!).
After gluing PVC together in a closet, we might have been a little loopy with glue fumes. Still we moved on to removing the sink and toilet. After contorting ourselves into bizarre and painful positions and fighting with the two L-brackets beneath the sink - struggling with the part screwed into the tile wall - Pam told me to stop fighting with the extremely rusty screws. I turned to see her holding an L-bracket in her hand. Turns out the marble sink, inlaid with 24 karat gold, was not attached to anything. It was sitting on the L-brackets and front legs. Given we have 200-350 earthquakes a month (don't even get me started on the hurricanes) - and that sink has been there for at least two decades - I find it nothing short of miraculous.
Laughing a little hysterically - did I mention the glue? - we went back and easily lifted the front legs out of the tile. Seriously. The sink was attached to nothing! Not the wall. Not the legs. Nada. (Oh! And the PVC wasn't even glued together beneath the sink.) Pam is a very blessed woman!
I jokingly suggested the toilet might not be bolted or caulked down. I was wrong. It was no joke. After separating the tank from the seat, we discovered there was nothing other than weight holding the freakin' thing in place. We were forced to lock the cats on the porch to avoid them escaping, and tripping over the two dogs, we managed to get the seat outside. Not easy while laughing like loons!
I no longer have any qualms forcing Pam to help me hang curtains, my latest cross-stitch, and fixing my screen door. Did I mention that after cutting water and flushing the toilet there is still a ton of water in a decades old pink toilet? (And did I mention I was barefoot? *shudder*)
Is life in Paradise exciting or what? Okay, signing off now. For those of you who read this thing - you can choose to follow the blog and be notified when I update it (am trying to track stats on those reading this - if you repeatedly check it, the stats get wonky. Of course, I'd rather you check repeatedly than not read it. =)) Also - those obnoxious ads at the top - do me a favor and click them when you are done reading. Wait for the page to load and move on with your life. Allegedly, I make money with those.
Got a new camera for Christmas. Am definitely attending Carnival and getting pictures this year! Am also going to be taking pictures of the signs down here. Trust me, you'll get a kick out of them!
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Christmas Begins
While those of you stateside are reaching the end of the Christmas season, those of us in the VI are like most of the western world - Christmas is just beginning. While we've had a few Christmas events (such as the boat parade), we actually celebrate the twelve days of Christmas.
The twelve days of Christmas are not the days leading up to Christmas, but actually begin the day after Christmas, on Boxing Day and continue through Three Kings Day - which is the day of St. Croix's Carnival - while not as famous as Brazil's Carnival, it is the first Carnival of the year!
Christmas down here is different. The Virgin Islands are "poor" compared to the rest of the United States. In fact the AGI is $10,000 less than that of Mississippi (which is below the poverty level). However, like most islands of the Caribbean, you will never meet a "poor" Crucian.
I've said before that priorities here are different. I know a lady (a snowbird) who is a nurse. She works six months for hospice in Massachusetts and six months for hospice down here. Hospice has struggled to make in roads down here, because people believe in caring for their own. The nurse was blown away by one patient who had been bed-ridden for three years and had never once had a bed sore. The house had a dirt floor, but the woman received better care than Johns Hopskins could provide.
Christmas is less commercial. You go to Kmart and people are dancing in the aisles to the calypso Christmas carols. People are actually joyful. Maybe it is time for the rest of the world to take a lesson from St. Croix - and our definition of "poor."
Like I said. Christmas is just beginning. I'm looking forward to twelve days of celebration, good cheer, and sincere joy. I wish the rest of you could experience this.
The twelve days of Christmas are not the days leading up to Christmas, but actually begin the day after Christmas, on Boxing Day and continue through Three Kings Day - which is the day of St. Croix's Carnival - while not as famous as Brazil's Carnival, it is the first Carnival of the year!
Christmas down here is different. The Virgin Islands are "poor" compared to the rest of the United States. In fact the AGI is $10,000 less than that of Mississippi (which is below the poverty level). However, like most islands of the Caribbean, you will never meet a "poor" Crucian.
I've said before that priorities here are different. I know a lady (a snowbird) who is a nurse. She works six months for hospice in Massachusetts and six months for hospice down here. Hospice has struggled to make in roads down here, because people believe in caring for their own. The nurse was blown away by one patient who had been bed-ridden for three years and had never once had a bed sore. The house had a dirt floor, but the woman received better care than Johns Hopskins could provide.
Christmas is less commercial. You go to Kmart and people are dancing in the aisles to the calypso Christmas carols. People are actually joyful. Maybe it is time for the rest of the world to take a lesson from St. Croix - and our definition of "poor."
Like I said. Christmas is just beginning. I'm looking forward to twelve days of celebration, good cheer, and sincere joy. I wish the rest of you could experience this.
Monday, December 21, 2009
NOT the reason
I have been greatly amused by the imaginary war on Christmas that Fox News is covering. Really? A war on Christmas?
Not to confuse anyone with the facts, but Christmas has nothing to do with Jesus. He was born in June, not December. Today is Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, and an important point on the year's turning wheel. When conquoring the British Isles, the Catholic church quickly learned that they had to superimpose a Christian ideal on a Pagan one.
Thus, Yule (Winter Solstice) became Christmas. In reality, it is a pagan celebration - death of the Oak King, birth of the Holly King. Why do you think we "deck the halls with boughs of holly" or "light the yule and watch it burn"?
I get a kick out of the slogan "Jesus is the reason for the season." He's not. I recently saw news coverage of a woman who discovered her chicken had laid an egg with a cross on it. She passionately declared that God was sending her a message that "Jesus is the reason." (http://cbs11tv.com/local/holy.egg.cross.2.1346581.html) I laughed until I cried. Really? Don't you think God knows when his son was born?
Of course, heaven forfend that I confuse anyone with the facts - or we consider the truth of the matter. People have decided to ignore the facts and make Christmas a "purely Christian" holiday - and people at Fox News are appalled by the scandalous phrase, Happy Holidays (I suppose everyone could begin all conversations with "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year", but don't you people have children to raise? Or at least last minute shopping to do? Sheesh. That takes too long in our 20-second attention-span world.)
This is another classic example of "My mind is made up. Don't confuse me with the facts." Don't get me wrong, I enjoy all the pomp and circumstance and gift-giving of the season, but to decide that there is a war on the Christian faith by using the phrase "Happy Holidays" tells me we need to re-evaluate a few things.
Oh, and by the way. Xmas is not "crossing Christ out of Christmas". The letter "X" is the Greek symbol for Christ. Go out and look at the fish on the back of your car if you don't believe me. The X admist the letters means Christ. It is shorthand that has been used by scholars for centuries. Cheese and Bread! We have enough problems in the world. Let's stop making up imaginary wars!
Not to confuse anyone with the facts, but Christmas has nothing to do with Jesus. He was born in June, not December. Today is Winter Solstice, the shortest day of the year, and an important point on the year's turning wheel. When conquoring the British Isles, the Catholic church quickly learned that they had to superimpose a Christian ideal on a Pagan one.
Thus, Yule (Winter Solstice) became Christmas. In reality, it is a pagan celebration - death of the Oak King, birth of the Holly King. Why do you think we "deck the halls with boughs of holly" or "light the yule and watch it burn"?
I get a kick out of the slogan "Jesus is the reason for the season." He's not. I recently saw news coverage of a woman who discovered her chicken had laid an egg with a cross on it. She passionately declared that God was sending her a message that "Jesus is the reason." (http://cbs11tv.com/local/holy.egg.cross.2.1346581.html) I laughed until I cried. Really? Don't you think God knows when his son was born?
Of course, heaven forfend that I confuse anyone with the facts - or we consider the truth of the matter. People have decided to ignore the facts and make Christmas a "purely Christian" holiday - and people at Fox News are appalled by the scandalous phrase, Happy Holidays (I suppose everyone could begin all conversations with "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year", but don't you people have children to raise? Or at least last minute shopping to do? Sheesh. That takes too long in our 20-second attention-span world.)
This is another classic example of "My mind is made up. Don't confuse me with the facts." Don't get me wrong, I enjoy all the pomp and circumstance and gift-giving of the season, but to decide that there is a war on the Christian faith by using the phrase "Happy Holidays" tells me we need to re-evaluate a few things.
Oh, and by the way. Xmas is not "crossing Christ out of Christmas". The letter "X" is the Greek symbol for Christ. Go out and look at the fish on the back of your car if you don't believe me. The X admist the letters means Christ. It is shorthand that has been used by scholars for centuries. Cheese and Bread! We have enough problems in the world. Let's stop making up imaginary wars!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Things I've learned since moving to St. Croix
11. Chickens can fly.
10. Roosters are beautiful.
09. Ghost crabs are evil.
08. You can drive through a pothole as big as a bathtub in a tiny Toyota.
07. Tourists shouldn't drive. Ever.
06. Bats are wonderful. They eat mosquitos.
05. Air can be soft.
04. It is too cold to swim in October, even if the water is over 80 degrees.
03. Cops can drive and drink Heineken at the same time (apparently, it has to be Heineken)
02. Hurricanes suck all the air away
01. There is nothing like island life
10. Roosters are beautiful.
09. Ghost crabs are evil.
08. You can drive through a pothole as big as a bathtub in a tiny Toyota.
07. Tourists shouldn't drive. Ever.
06. Bats are wonderful. They eat mosquitos.
05. Air can be soft.
04. It is too cold to swim in October, even if the water is over 80 degrees.
03. Cops can drive and drink Heineken at the same time (apparently, it has to be Heineken)
02. Hurricanes suck all the air away
01. There is nothing like island life
Monday, December 14, 2009
White People
"Christmas in the Caribbean . . . Snowbirds fill the air..." Jimmy Buffet
Season has definitely started. I took a friend's teenage (Jewish) daughter to Christmas Spoken Here at the Botanical Gardens last week. It's a fabulous venue where local artisans, merchants, apiaries, etc. come out to sell their wares. As we meandered through the stalls (all manned by locals) and wove through the shoppers (all of whom were white), Beth (who couldn't look more Irish if she tried), leaned over and asked, "Is it wrong that I'm creeped out by all the white people?"
There are two types of white people who move to the island. Those that embrace the culture and the people, and those who want to maintain a white-bread-only, country-club life. I feel sorry for those who do not elect to submerge themselves in the culture (where you are welcomed with open arms). They are missing out on some of the most amazing people I've ever met.
It is not uncommon for me to be the only (or one of the only) white people at an event. I never feel uncomfortable. In fact, most of the other attendees worry about my being comfortable and make it a point to ensure I feel welcome. The human heart has an amazing capacity for empathy.
Not only are the snowbirds flocking, but the cruise ships are docking. As best I can tell, there is an international law that only white people can travel by cruise ship and they must leave all brain cells in their stateroom prior to disembarking. As a wise man once said, if it is tourist season, we should be allowed to shoot them.
No where else in the world will people stop and stand in the middle of the main thoroughfare through town and stare at a building. I swear, they freeze and stare - as though they might startle a wild animal. The buildings have been there since the 17th or 18th Century (depending on the building). They aren't going anywhere. I swear. You can finish crossing the street. They won't bolt.
For my first year on island, there were no cruise ships. Out of the blue, I found Christiansted overrun with scary, clueless, pale people. After battling my way to a friend's store, I burst in and shouted, "Where did all the freakin' white people come from?" The two lawyers at the counter, turned and shared a smile with me, ignoring my blonde hair, blue eyes, and scarily wan complexion. I remember them explicitly, because one of them was Attorney Moorhead (and he was wearing a suit - what a beautiful, beautiful, man!). My friend behind the counter who was baan a'raise (and white) cracked up. Off to my right, where the internet cafe sat, there was a collective gasp. I turned to see that area of the store packed with white people. One elderly lady gasped in horror and whispered loudly, "She said 'white people'!"
Just wait until I start talking Christmas traditions down here...
Season has definitely started. I took a friend's teenage (Jewish) daughter to Christmas Spoken Here at the Botanical Gardens last week. It's a fabulous venue where local artisans, merchants, apiaries, etc. come out to sell their wares. As we meandered through the stalls (all manned by locals) and wove through the shoppers (all of whom were white), Beth (who couldn't look more Irish if she tried), leaned over and asked, "Is it wrong that I'm creeped out by all the white people?"
There are two types of white people who move to the island. Those that embrace the culture and the people, and those who want to maintain a white-bread-only, country-club life. I feel sorry for those who do not elect to submerge themselves in the culture (where you are welcomed with open arms). They are missing out on some of the most amazing people I've ever met.
It is not uncommon for me to be the only (or one of the only) white people at an event. I never feel uncomfortable. In fact, most of the other attendees worry about my being comfortable and make it a point to ensure I feel welcome. The human heart has an amazing capacity for empathy.
Not only are the snowbirds flocking, but the cruise ships are docking. As best I can tell, there is an international law that only white people can travel by cruise ship and they must leave all brain cells in their stateroom prior to disembarking. As a wise man once said, if it is tourist season, we should be allowed to shoot them.
No where else in the world will people stop and stand in the middle of the main thoroughfare through town and stare at a building. I swear, they freeze and stare - as though they might startle a wild animal. The buildings have been there since the 17th or 18th Century (depending on the building). They aren't going anywhere. I swear. You can finish crossing the street. They won't bolt.
For my first year on island, there were no cruise ships. Out of the blue, I found Christiansted overrun with scary, clueless, pale people. After battling my way to a friend's store, I burst in and shouted, "Where did all the freakin' white people come from?" The two lawyers at the counter, turned and shared a smile with me, ignoring my blonde hair, blue eyes, and scarily wan complexion. I remember them explicitly, because one of them was Attorney Moorhead (and he was wearing a suit - what a beautiful, beautiful, man!). My friend behind the counter who was baan a'raise (and white) cracked up. Off to my right, where the internet cafe sat, there was a collective gasp. I turned to see that area of the store packed with white people. One elderly lady gasped in horror and whispered loudly, "She said 'white people'!"
Just wait until I start talking Christmas traditions down here...
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Vernacular
I gone bush for a week. While off island, I often found a Cruzan expression on de tip of my tongue. Apparently not only those ban ya speak de local vernacular – though no one speaks it quite like those baan a’raise. It took effort for true, but I managed to avoid slipping into Cruzan and confusin’ de white people.
I never forget how lucky all o’we are to live in such a beautiful place. Why do de people choose to live elsewhere? Me no know. De ocean is beautiful, de rainforest lush, and we don have no snakes – t’anks to de mongoose dem. I promise dat if I had a car, I’d be limin’ on de beach at Chenay Bay dis Saturday. De bartender, he don be happy to bring you a next one so dat you don have to walk de t’ree feet to de restaurant. Of course, every time I go to de beach, I forget to walk wit’ somet’in’ – usually de towel.
T’anks for reading dis. I know it’s short, but I gaan now. You go to come back.
I never forget how lucky all o’we are to live in such a beautiful place. Why do de people choose to live elsewhere? Me no know. De ocean is beautiful, de rainforest lush, and we don have no snakes – t’anks to de mongoose dem. I promise dat if I had a car, I’d be limin’ on de beach at Chenay Bay dis Saturday. De bartender, he don be happy to bring you a next one so dat you don have to walk de t’ree feet to de restaurant. Of course, every time I go to de beach, I forget to walk wit’ somet’in’ – usually de towel.
T’anks for reading dis. I know it’s short, but I gaan now. You go to come back.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Manners
It is nice to be back home where people are generally polite. After arriving in Atlanta last week, we had not even made it out of the parking deck before hearing a horn blare. My father commented on the unnecessary impatience and rudeness of the driver. I confess to being startled and found myself jolted back to a stateside mentality.
On St. Croix, horns beep all the time. We beep our horns to grant the driver on a sidestreet permission to pull out. We beep our horns as a thank you for letting us pull out. We beep our horns to grab the attention of someone at whom we wish to wave or greet. We beep our horns because it 's Tuesday. Hearing the blare of a horn is a cheerful sound on St. Croix.
I also missed the ritual of greeting someone. You never start a conversation with someone on island without first saying, "good morning", "good afternoon", or "good night" and having the other person repeat it back. It is a small courtesy that carries great weight. There is nothing more rude than to encounter someone who simply launches into a conversation - or worse a demand - without first offering the proper greeting. Walking into a store in Columbus and saying "good morning" without getting it returned left me depressed.
Priorities are different on island. Time is not more precious than courtesy. True, curmudgeons exist everywhere, but I enjoy living in a culture that prizes manners.
On St. Croix, horns beep all the time. We beep our horns to grant the driver on a sidestreet permission to pull out. We beep our horns as a thank you for letting us pull out. We beep our horns to grab the attention of someone at whom we wish to wave or greet. We beep our horns because it 's Tuesday. Hearing the blare of a horn is a cheerful sound on St. Croix.
I also missed the ritual of greeting someone. You never start a conversation with someone on island without first saying, "good morning", "good afternoon", or "good night" and having the other person repeat it back. It is a small courtesy that carries great weight. There is nothing more rude than to encounter someone who simply launches into a conversation - or worse a demand - without first offering the proper greeting. Walking into a store in Columbus and saying "good morning" without getting it returned left me depressed.
Priorities are different on island. Time is not more precious than courtesy. True, curmudgeons exist everywhere, but I enjoy living in a culture that prizes manners.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Coughing, hacking, sniffling, and whining
I am not a good sick person. Before I moved to St. Croix I could count on one hand the number of actual colds that I suffered. Now, I seem to get at least one a year. Yes, I realize they are mild and I'm fortunate that I don't get the flu, but I really don't care.
I could survive the cold if I could sleep. I've raised sleeping to an art form. It is a passion of mine. Unfortunately, being horizontal makes me cough harder and my throat feel worse. Couple that with a massive cat fight under my bed at two in the morning and some form of coordinated, island-wide synchronized dog howls at various points during the night, and you get one cranky me.
On top of which, Pam (the friend for whom I'm house sitting) has tenants in the downstairs apartment. I awoke this morning to learn that their refrigerator was broken. So, I have the joy of dealing with repair personnel tomorrow.
Off to relieve Liza for a couple of hours at the store before picking up Beth after school... Being Pam is stressful. I don't know how she does it!
I could survive the cold if I could sleep. I've raised sleeping to an art form. It is a passion of mine. Unfortunately, being horizontal makes me cough harder and my throat feel worse. Couple that with a massive cat fight under my bed at two in the morning and some form of coordinated, island-wide synchronized dog howls at various points during the night, and you get one cranky me.
On top of which, Pam (the friend for whom I'm house sitting) has tenants in the downstairs apartment. I awoke this morning to learn that their refrigerator was broken. So, I have the joy of dealing with repair personnel tomorrow.
Off to relieve Liza for a couple of hours at the store before picking up Beth after school... Being Pam is stressful. I don't know how she does it!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Home Again
After being gone for a week, I have finally returned to where the air is warm and ocean-scented. Paradise Found...almost.
It seems my brother's children decided share their myriad germs and diseases. I thought I'd escaped unscathed, but fate failed to smile upon me. The phrase "hacking up a lung" takes on an entirely new meaning with broken ribs.
As if the pain weren't enough to keep me awake, the few times I managed to drift off last night, the cats exacted their revenge for abandonment. They became more and more creative as the night passed. Sadie enjoyed running across my sternum and eliciting shrieks of pain, while Jinx went the more traditional route with bladder pouncing.
Now I have to pack to house sit for a friend. She has a beautiful view of the south shore. Of course, she also has six animals and a fifteen-year old. Am not sure that I'm up for this . . .
It seems my brother's children decided share their myriad germs and diseases. I thought I'd escaped unscathed, but fate failed to smile upon me. The phrase "hacking up a lung" takes on an entirely new meaning with broken ribs.
As if the pain weren't enough to keep me awake, the few times I managed to drift off last night, the cats exacted their revenge for abandonment. They became more and more creative as the night passed. Sadie enjoyed running across my sternum and eliciting shrieks of pain, while Jinx went the more traditional route with bladder pouncing.
Now I have to pack to house sit for a friend. She has a beautiful view of the south shore. Of course, she also has six animals and a fifteen-year old. Am not sure that I'm up for this . . .
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