Thursday, June 24, 2010

Dusk

I’ve found that even though I spend the vast majority of my day in the water I still want to be around it. I have gotten in to the habit of walking along the beach at dusk. I usually see the same people; the old man walking his two aging golden retrievers, the two women wrapped in shawls, and the little boy who sits on his porch throwing stones in to the water. I love the transition time, there’s something magical about the way the blue of the sky deepens to let out the stars.

Picture Update

Here are a few pictures of my place:


these first couple are of my yard and the entry to the place that i live.






what i find on my steps almost everyday when i come home





bed.

bathroom.

kitchen.


birthday gift from Catherine =)


*note...the spiders and cockroaches were not allowed to guest star in these photos but that does not mean that they are not present =P

On Island

Life on island is a little different then life in Canada, as you can probably imagine. For one, going to the grocery store is always a guessing game. Most everything here is shipped in so many things might not always be available.

You buy a delicious avocado one week and go back for more the next and there are none. You search three different stores for potatoes…none to be found.
Skim milk? Your choices are whole and 2%.
“Can I please have a green tea milky slush?” “No green tea sorry” “Okay no worries, can I have coconut?” “Sorry, none of that either.” “Mango?” “Nope.” “Guava?” “Sorry!” “Haha okay, what do you have?”

A little on St. Maarten:
At 18.02 latitude, 63.07 longitue, sandwiched between the Caribbean Sea and the Atlantic Ocean, St. Maarten is the smallest land mass in the world that is shared by two sovereign nations. The island is 37 square miles boasting 37 of “the worlds unofficial greatest” beaches. There is a population on the Dutch side of 41 000 compared to the 36 000 on the French side, a lot of people for a little island! Most are illegal immigrants who have lived here for year without notice. There are over a hundred nationalities that can be found so the streets often buzz with different languages all working to express themselves. The currency is Euro on the French side and either US or the Netherlands Antilles “Guilder” on the Dutch. The island is duty free on both sides.

The weather lately has actually not been that great. As a result of high winds and rough seas we’ve had to cancel a few dives. But we are officially in hurricane season, which started June 1st, so this is to be expected. I think I have been away from home for too long though, I wore my jacket out last night and have been wearing my long wetsuit lately. The guys at the shop always make fun of me, I am apparently “impersonating a Canadian” because, in their minds, there is no way I can be this cold and be from where I claim to be from.

Shout Out

“To all the people out there tonight who are comforting themselves
If you should happen to see my light you can stop and ring my bell
I’m just sitting here in this room, strewn with half written songs
Just taking one breath at a time, like us all, like us all.”
- Ani Difranco

Nice To Meet You, Goodbye!

The one thing I have found with traveling is that I’ve meet people from all around the world. Some come in to my life for a night, some a few days, others a few months. Some I wish I hadn’t met, some I wish I could keep around forever, and some I’ve already forgotten. Saying both hello and goodbye has become a regular part of my life but living “on island” (as the locals call it) has been a big change for me. I am no longer the one leaving; rather I am the one being left.

Recently, I have met some pretty amazing people. I met a long time diver, Dave, who was here for three weeks and was wonderful. I learned so much from him and he was a lot of fun to have on the boat. I’ve met one person who I had one night of huge life chats on the beach, who challenged me and asked the hard questions I didn’t necessarily want to answer, and is now gone. I met one person who is dying and alone. I had to say goodbye to Astrid who has become an important figure in my life and I am heartbroken that she has to leave (her and her husband live on a boat and it’s hurricane season). I’ve met someone who I couldn’t say goodbye to fast enough and hope I don’t see again. I met someone who I’ve connected with really well and who might be a lifelong friend.

It’s funny how people come in to our lives at specific times. When something happens and there is a connection between two people what is left? If one person leaves and there is no time to keep that connection did it mean anything? But then there are the connections that are for maybe ten minutes but remain with you months later. Some people walk through our lives without notice. Others leave footprints in your memories like they had run through a field of fresh snow.

Brazilians

The world cup is on right now and I would like to say, from personal experience and close observation, that the Brazians are some of the craziest fans there are. My bosses, Lu and Jef, are from Brazil and we close down the shop and get the afternoon or morning off every time there is a game. Everyone on our team heads out to the bar to watch the game and about a hundred Brazilians come out. Jef hooked up an airhorn to a scuba tank and we all got kicked out of the bar the first game for being too loud. They wear their Brazilian shirts and jersey’s and bring a GIANT Brazilian flag that they wave in front of the TV while jumping up and down every time there is a goal. Jef and Lu never yell, if you make a mistake at work they explain how to fix it but never get mad. I figured out why…it’s because they take out all their anger when they are at the games. They SCREAM at the top of their lungs at the TV in Portuguese, wave their fists and curse the other team. Let’s just say they are intense!

Mark

He is 62 years old and has been on island for 39 years. He came for the first time from he USA in 1971with his father, the two of them were contracted to build a house, Mark’s first. After the completion the contractor was so happy with the work that he offered Mark a job and within two years he had bought out his superiors. He played his first game of golf with a friend when he 21 and was hooked. His best game was a 73 (apparently that’s pretty good) and his favorite player is Jonathan something-or-other. He lost his wife six years ago to the day when I met him. Four years after he suffered a stroke and his speech is pretty poor. He used to tell a lot of jokes but has trouble now remembering the punchline. His daughter lives in Colorado and is getting married in August. He lives alone and gets up every morning with the sun to walk along the beach. His favorite colour is yellow because it reminds him that the sun will always shine, even if it is hidden behind the clouds.

I met Mark on Saturday, June 19 2010. We started out talking at the bar and shortly after we were eating dinner, his first with someone else in much too long. He told me about his life and taught me about golf. He is a thin man, 5’8”, with a receding hairline and glasses. His skin is tanned and leathery, his hands callused from a lifetime of work. He is overly average looking with the exception of his eyes. Bright blue and sparkling they hold a kind of magic, wisdom, and a youthfulness I did not expect. He is a man of vast knowledge but has trouble conveying it because of his speech.

But sometimes, you just need to listen.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Diving



I don't think I can truly get across to everyone at home how much I love my job. The people I work with, especially Astrid, and what I do everyday is incredible. I get up most mornings to run along the beach, work for about nine or ten hours (diving, filling tanks, helping customers), get home exhausted, feed my cat (the local stray that has adopted me...named Olivia), make dinner, do something whether it's going out with friends or just relaxing or something, go for a walk on the beach and then go to bed.

I love meeting the divers that come to our shop. Sometimes they are new to diving and I get to be there as they take those first few breaths underwater. Sometimes they are long time divers who can teach me new things. I love showing people the little Blenny's and spidercrabs and Christmas tree worms and all the other things that people would miss if you don't show them. I love hearing their underwater exclamations of surprise. I love how exhausted i am at night and that it takes me all of 30 seconds to fall asleep.

I love the island. How slow things are. Sometimes I get so frustrated that it takes ssoooo long to do something and then I have to stop and ask myself what the rush is. I love the people. How at first they are boarder line rude and think you are some tourist but after the third time you come they finally get that you are local and they don't try and rip you off and actually smile.

Here are some recent pictures =)









Street Mango

I often buy my fruits and some veggies from a fruit stand that is just around the corner and across the street from me. It is run by a women named Alice who is this sweet little old lady who is incredibly senile and I have to remind her who I am every time I go. For the most part, the food is really quite good; very fresh and tasty. But you have to remember to wash it. And check for maggots.

Anyway, the other day I decided to get some mangos. They looked beautiful and deliciously ripe. I bought two and brought them, along with the rest of my fruits, back to my flat. I washed everything and put some of it in the fridge and the others in my food container (I bought a large, sealable container for things like cereal and fruit because of the ants and other bugs in my flat). I got up the next morning to an awful surprise. There were ants ALL in my food container. Hundreds of them. I started pulling things out trying to salvage what I could and trying to figure out where they were coming from all while trying very hard to keep them off of me.

They were coming from my beautiful mango.

And they were fire ants.

Something I Wish I Had

Now don’t get me wrong, I love it here. I have made my flat into a little home, which I love coming back to at the end of the day. I have pictures covering one of the walls etc. and lots of little things that make it “mine.” But two days ago we had a torrential downpour of water and it was cold (relatively) and I came back from a ten-hour workday and stepped in to my shower.

I realized I have had only one hot shower since January.

But I guess if that’s the worst thing I have to complain about then I’m doing pretty good =)

The Bus

As I mentioned in a previous blog entry I have a bike. It’s this tiny, white BMX with shitty brakes, which Laz is going to try and fix for me, that I love. But a bike can only get you so far and it is often very unsafe to be riding your bike on the road. Drivers here will come within a foot of you (I kid you not) and that’s when you are riding as far on the edge of the road as you possibly can be without falling off. So mostly I ride when there is lots of traffic, as crazy as that sounds, because then people are going so slow you just pass them.

Another mode of transportation, and only slightly safer sometimes, is by bus. There are TONS of local “buses” which will pick you up at any point along the road. There are no bus stops, which I am guessing is because these are no real buses in the first place. They are locals who have these big vans with signs saying “Maho” or “Ph-burg” or one of the other places they drive to. For $1.50/bus ride you can get around the island pretty well. It doesn’t matter how far you ride the fair is still the same. It is highly recommended that you have exact change and if not, don’t pay with anything more then a five, because otherwise they will get extremely grumpy and take forever to give you the change which probably wont end up being correct. But having said that, most of the drivers are really friendly and if you sit in the front seat they wont stop talking for the entire ride. You will get their life story, their wife’s life story, and probably their dog’s life story as well!

I absolutely love the buses! They are packed with locals and so far I have been the only white person in every bus that I get on. The other day was a particularly adventurous ride home. I had gone to Marigot, on the French side, and the one bus had just dropped me off and I flagged down the next bus back to Mullet Bay. As it pulled up I could see that this particular bus was in pretty rough shape. None of the buses are really nice or anything but this one just looked tragic. I couldn’t open the side door and someone from inside had to help me. When I stepped in I was immediately forced to do an awkward straddle over the giant hole in the floor while I attempted to close the door. Having successfully done this I made my way to the only empty seat; a lopsided, misshapen seat that was leaning precariously backwards. About two minutes into the ride we stopped for a guy to get off and as he opened the side door it unhinged itself and was less then halfway attached on to the doorframe. I exchanged glances with a girl about my age and we both laughed a bit as the driver got out and, using his entire body weight, threw himself against the door to get it back in place. Needless to say it was an interesting ride. I’ve never had the experience of watching the road fly by below you.

Another funny thing about the buses is that many people insist on having conversations on their cell phones. A couple of days ago when I went to Philipsburg, I had the pleasure of sitting behind a lady who was screaming, and when I say screaming I mean SCREAMING, into her phone at her son who had apparently cut school again. When she finished the fifteen-minute conversation she started talking to the bus on a whole about how her son is such a failure and even though no one answered her, or even acknowledged her, she continued telling us about her son for the next five minutes until she asked for the bus to stop.

You are never guaranteed a spot on the bus. Even if it is completely full and there are no seats left, the driver will often still stop for you anyways and you end up uncomfortably sitting on the floorboards by the door. About the only guarantee you have riding with the local buses is that it will always be an adventure.