Spice Mas 2k9

Here it is a week after Grenada's Carnival season and my body is still not fully recovered. As I get older I notice that it takes me longer and longer to recover from massive sleep deprivation, which in this case, came in the form of Spice Mas 2k9! In July of 2009, the carnival season was launched in all the parishes around the island and this year I wanted to be sure to soak up all the goodness that Carnival offers since it's to be my last for awhile. Carnival is actually two days, the second Monday and Tuesday of August, but there are various events and concerts leading up to these two days including Soca Monarch, White in the Moonlight, Panarama, and Dimache Gras.

This year, a few girls (other volunteers) talked about wanting to participate in Fancy Mas which is a masquerade that takes place with various bands competing to win the title of King and Queen. Each band has various sections, each with their own theme and costume. After much hesitation, I decided to suck it up and partake in this once in a lifetime opportunity even though it meant wearing a very risque costume for at least five hours. I figured that if there were anywhere in the world to dance down the road in a bedazzled bikini with a few extra pounds jiggling like the star of a Jello commercial, it's the Caribbean. The men here have an appreciation for larger women and, in general, the people don't seem to give a crap about body image like Americans do. Usually, this mas takes place on Carnival Tuesday in the afternoon, but luckily for me, it rained and was postponed until the following weekend which allowed me to fully partake in Sauteurs' infamous jouvert celebration.

Even though it rained on Tuesday and Fancy Mas was postponed, the girls still got dressed up and played mas while I was in Sauteurs, which is why I'm not in the group photo below. . .:( Sad.

Jouvert is a celebration that occurs on the Monday and Tuesday of Carnival in various villages all over the island. It begins early in the morning, about 5:00a.m. and ends whenever the music stops. Each band consists of it's own truck, d.j., music, and specific color of paint that is then slathered all over your body, usually by a stranger. If you play Jab Jab, then your job is to be covered head to toe in black tar/oil, and look as intimidating and bizarre as possible. This comes in the form of cross dressing, having dead frogs in your mouth, holding snakes, wearing horns and chains, carrying around severed pigs heads, and just about anything else you can think of. This year, the girls and I played jouvert in St. George's on Monday and, of course, I went back to my home, Sauteurs, to play jouvert on Tuesday morning. For years, Sauteurs has been known for having the biggest and best jouvert on the island and this year was no exception! I had a good friend, and ex-party friend/PCV in town which made it even more amazingly fun. We stayed out until 3:00 in the afternoon and finally threw in the towel deciding that sleep and hydration were imperative.

I cannot tell you the fantastic time I had and what made it even more bittersweet was knowing that this would be my last Carnival experience for quite some time. I wish I could be in a state of Carnival five days a week. . .complete and utter bacchanal!! :) I love it and I wish that everyone could experience it at least once in their life. I will be back Grenada! You haven't seen the last of me!!

So Long. . .Farewell!!

After an exhausting six day camp with the boys at the home (see last blog) we decided it would be an opportune time for the E.C.77 farewell party. We were able to foresee, as anyone would know if they've ever been a camp couselor, that we would be completely and utterly exhausted. . .too tired to party. Ha! Not a chance. We said good bye the boys, took a nap, and off we were again into the bush (a.k.a. woods) of Victoria. The E.C.79 group organized our farewell and it was a pleasant occassion highlighted by a bonfire, food, drinks, shish-ka-bobs, and a clever roast that included each volunteers lasting legacy. The highlight of my night was playing "Waah" which is a rousing game that takes not only deep concentration, but the skills of a ninja. Okay, so really. . .we were a group of 20-something year old Peace Corps Volunteers standing in a circle deep in the bush, pointing at each saying "Waaaaaaaahhhhhh" and laughing hysterically. I'm sure the two Grenadians present for this display of childlike glee must have thought us quite strange, but what's new? Though the party ended a bit early, the 77's were able to say a few words about their time in Grenada and what it has meant to them. I won't get into here, but overall it was a humbling reminder of just how much we have all grown as individuals and just how lucky we were to have had such an awesome group of volunteers to call friends.

On August 1st, we said good-bye to Kris who was the first volunteer to return home. Soon enough E.C.77 will be a thing of the past and Peace Corps will be but a fond memory.

I'd Like to TAP That!

This blog entry will probably not be as exciting as the title would make you believe. . .but that is kind of the point. The ol' bait and switch routine!! TAP is an acronym for the Tufton Adventure Project which is the outdated name for the Father Mallaghan's Home for Boys. A few years ago, Peace Corps volunteers created and organized what would become an annual camp for the boys living at the home. It is an event that the boys look forward to all year long and usually, before the camp week is even halfway over, they're asking when the next camp will be. Various companies on the island sponsor and donate in order to make these six days possible and without them the camp would've died out long ago.

This year, PCV Kristopher Crown had the enormous task of organizing the camp from soliciting sponsors to organizing the schedule. Kris is a man who likes to do things himself and we let him, although we paid for it dearly throughout the week of camp by falling victim to his sleep deprivation-induced tantrums. Don't worry. . .I can talk smack about Kris like this because we're buddies. :)

This year TAP Camp took place the third week of July and lasted six days. There were 21 boys and 14 counselors, plus a few members of staff who decided to partake in certain activities. We filled the schedule with various activities like kite making, a scavenger hunt, soccer, cricket, egg drop, arts and crafts, river and sea baths, and a talent show, (which usually involves a male counselor cross dressing and embarassing himself by demonstrating various technical dances such as "the sprinkler." ) Best of all, however, was the counselors' contribution to the talent show; a rendition of Michael Jackson's "Thriller" dance. We learned the basic moves and put together a routine, and within 30 minutes we were in the middle of the main road performing for the boys who love MJ! I would say it went well considering that we are not at all professional dancers, as was evident upon reviewing the video of our performance. Haha! We had a great time doing it though and the boys loved it. . .I think.

As is tradition, we took the boys camping at Bathway Beach on the very last night. As is also tradition, we made Oil Down, Tania Log, Bakes, and roasted hot dogs and marshmallows. This is by far the highlight of the week for the counselors as it gives us a day to relax and be with the boys in a less structured environment. The best part of this night was laying on the grass with the other counselors and some of the boys. We made a belly chain where each person laid their head on someone else's belly. The sky was really clear so we all just laid in the grass staring up at the stars. All I could think about was how much I am going to miss the boys when I leave Grenada in September but how lucky I was to have had them in my life at all.

By the last day of camp we were all exhausted and in desperate need of sleep and shish-ka-bobs (inside joke) but I would not trade this week for anything. It warmed my heart in unspeakable ways to see the boys showered with so much love and attention during camp. They deserve this kind of affection everyday of the year but unfortunately, more often than not, they do not receive it. The boys came up with the camp theme for this year which was "Yes We Can!" and I cannot say enough how fitting this is for the circumstances in which I find myself in relation to the home. Everything I know and feel about these amazing boys was reaffirmed during this week and because of this. . .I will march on.

The Beginning of the End

It is July and the end of my Peace Corps adventure is drawing near although it really hasn't sunk in quite yet. The first event in closing this chapter of my life occurred in June which was our Close of Service conference, commonly referred to as "COS." It is a time when all EC77 volunteers from all the Eastern Caribbean islands are flown in together for one last hoorah before everyone disperses to begin the next adventure in their life. Our original group of volunteers numbered in the 70's to begin with, but two years later it has dwindled to somewhere in the 50's range proving that, even in the Caribbean, life isn't always as easy as it may seem. It seemed fitting that our group was able to say good bye in the very place where we all trained together; St. Lucia. For three days we had various sessions designed to help us cope with readjusting to life in the United States, allowing to reflect on the work we've accomplished over the last couple of years, and other various odds and ends.

E.C.77 One last time!!

The St. Vincent 4 and the Grenada 4

During one of the sessions, Helen, our Program and Training Officer, read a letter that one of the EC78 St.Lucia volunteers had received from a man who had served as a Peace Corps Volunteer in her same St. Lucian village back in the 1960's. I believe the man said he was part of EC3 or something like that which, not to make this person feel like a fossil, but that was a long time ago! Anyway, the gist of the letter was relaying his PCV experience in the 60's and how it still remains as one of the best experiences of his life even to this day. Nearly 40+ years later he and the other volunteers he served with have decided to reunite in St. Lucia to reminisce and meet with the current PCV's. While the letter was being read I began to think about what a wonderful thing it would be to come back decades later to the place where you spent two years and see the progress that has been (hopefully) made. Not only that, but it really made my spirits lift to bear witness to the fact that these PCV's had such a strong bond that it allowed them to stay in contact after all these years. I can only hope that the same is true of our group in Grenada and I can only dream of a day when, decades from now, we can all reunite and reminisce about those crazy times in the Spice Isle!

The Original Mon Repos Crew

This year, one of Grenada's finest volunteers implemented the first ever Peace Corps Olympics which had all the islands, and sometimes staff, competing for the Tom and Kitty Memorial Chalice. Haha! Telling you why it was named that would be a whole other blog entry. The events included Chess, a staring contest, speed walking, Geography bee, eating contest, swim relay, ultimate frisbee, a leap frog/piggyback/3-legged relay, and finally the more college like events of beer chugging and flip cup. It was a great way to end COS and Grenada lost their 1st place position to St. Lucia in the last event, ultimate frisbee. There were good times had during the last few days and the beginning of two months of good-byes began.

Team Grenada

To end my trip to St. Lucia with a bang, I traveled to Mon Repos where I had spent my first three weeks of training with a host family. Upon my arrival it threw me into a state of shock to realize that here I was again, two years later. I was a bit worried because I hadn't given my host mom much notice about my visiting so I was basically showing up on her doorstep hoping she'd take me in for a night. Luckily, there was no problem and she and her family were more than welcoming. I have to admit I was surprised how happy they were to see me and after spending some time talking with my host mom I realized how much I have grown over the last two years. I recall how when I first got to St. Lucia I wasn't very understanding of certain cultural aspects, and how odd they seemed to me. How these things sometimes made me feel uncomfortable, unsure, and homesick, but now, these things have become part of the fabric of everyday life. I am so glad that I decided to visit one last time, the place where it all began. It really allowed me to feel that I have come full circle.

Me, my host mom's sister Irene, their mom, and my host mom Prisca.

Out With the Old, In With the New!! Welcome E.C.79!

In February of 2009 we finally got our new group of Peace Corps Volunteers on Grenada! It was a long awaited arrival considering that we were expecting them to come in August of'08, but that didn't happen due to budget cuts and restructuring of the training program. In any case, they're here now so HOORAY! I'm not going to lie. . .I was like a 007 trying to figure out who these new volunteers were before they got here. I was able to figure out who a couple of them were and I Facebook stalked them until the day their little feet landed on Grenadian soil. I'm not ashamed, but as I'm sure they will feel when it is their time, I have grown to love Grenada as my own and I wasn't about to have any crazies up in here!! (At least not without warning.) Luckily, they're all great! We started out with eight volunteers and one dropped at the orientation in Miami, and another early terminated right after swearing in. As of June, we are down to six E.C.79 volunteers, all with their own talents and it seems that they have easily integrated into Grenadian life.

As is traditional when new PCV's swear in, we threw a couple parties for them to celebrate their first night of freedom away from their homestays. The first one was on a weeknight right after the ceremony so it was more of a relaxed atmosphere with no real craziness to speak of. Don't you worry though. . .when that Friday rolled around, we had the big blowout at my house. It was a Mexican theme because we were including Karla's (new PCV) birthday celebration and well, she's Mexican so it only seemed right that we should latch onto every heinous Mexican stereotype that we could think of and make a party of it. Inluded was a pinata, a bucket of margaritas, many tequila shots, and some creative, (yet slightly offensive,) costumes.

So to EC79. . .welcome and congratulations!! We're happy to have you join our dysfunctional family!

Sauteurs. . .Home Away From Home

It seems like just yesterday I was busy being a complete nuisance to our Associate Peace Corps Director, Franka. Every time I saw her I begged her to tell me where I was going to be placed in Grenada and finally, she showed me on a map this tiny dot of a village called Sauteurs, located in the parish of St. Patrick's. Now, to be completely honest I was a little disappointed because I was placed about an hour and a half away from the capitol of St. George's where all the tourist resorts are, where the American style nightclubs are, and where any sense of familiarity might be achieved in times of homesickness. I immediately began to wonder, will I make friends? Am I going to live in a shack? Will I have to draw my water from a well? Forunately for me, all of the these worries were just that; worries. I live more comfortably than I did in Seattle, (aside from the constant beads of sweat rolling down my every unmentionable area,) with my high speed internet, cable, and guaranteed money in the bank on the first of every month. Once the economy started to take a nose dive, I knew that there was no place I would rather been then here.

To give you an idea, Sauteurs is what people refer to as a "historical" village which is located on the very northernmost tip of the island. The population remains at around 1300 in Sauteurs alone but there are numerous smaller villages surrounding Sauteurs. One of the main tourist attractions is called "Carib's Leap," and it marks the spot in which the Carib natives jumped off a cliff to their deaths rather then surrender to the French back in the 1600's. Although the brain matter, blood, and guts have been washed away, there now remains a museum and lookout point. (Romantic, huh?) Sauteurs is referred to by locals as "the country," or "Behind God's Back," but even so it is not completely desolate. There are a couple of nice bars, a few rum shops, clothing stores, internet cafe, and even a nightclub which is not like any nightclub you'd find in America. It is more like the basement of a frat house, sticky floor and all. On most days you will find street vendors selling anything from produce, to clothes, to freshly butchered "street meat." The decapitated head and limbs of the animal will usually be sitting on the cement staring up at you while you contemplate the various health code violations that are being broken. One of the best things about Sauteurs is that it is located right on the water. There are beautiful beaches within minutes of my house although it is rare that I ever spend time on them.

If you know me at all, then you know that living in Sauteurs was a huge change from my fast paced lifestyle back in Seattle. Here, I found that I had way too much time on my hands and I usually occupied myself by overanalyzing various aspects of my life. Once I began to integrate and make friends I was able to comfortably go out to the club or go kick some ass on the pool table and I am proud to say that I have made a name for myself in Sauteurs by being virtually the only girl who can beat the men at pool. Sometimes though, the men don't appreciate my mad skills. :) I have tried every brand of local rum, even the "under the counter" which is a local homemade rum made from various herbs and spices. Sometimes you will also find scorpions and cockroaches floating around in the mixture to add that little special something. Needless to say, the rum here is not my friend. It is about 80% alcohol which is uh. .. something like 160 proof? On most nights, I stay far away from the local rum.

As for the people who inhabit this village, they are wonderful. It has been difficult to live in this sort of "fishbowl" environment, and if anything, it has solidified the fact that I do not want to ever be famous. People I've never spoken to know exactly where I live and what I do, and God forbid I let a man into my house! If I let more than a couple men into my house within a given period of time. . .the eyebrows start to raise. I will say though, that the people here are refreshingly hospitable. Once when I was cleaning my shower, my big ass broke the pipe and water was spraying everywhere. My neighbors, whom I'd never spoken to, came right over with their tools and had it glued back together within the hour. Who in the United States would do that for a complete stranger unless they were getting paid?

I am woken up by sheep, chickens, loud music blaring from my neighbor's industrial sized speakers, or the blowing of a conch shell by someone selling fish out of a wheelbarrow. . .and to me, these have become the sounds of home.

It's Raining Men. . .and I Need an Umbrella.

When I tell people that I am living in the Caribbean working as a Peace Corps volunteer, you would think that their primary interest would be in relation to the work that I do. Wrong! I have found that people want to hear a very brief account of the actual work experience and most of the time they will politely say "mmhmm. . .really?" every few minutes to give the impression that they are, in fact, listening. In actuality I know it is difficult for people relate to my life here and the work that I do, so for those who have faked their interest. . .thank you for trying. I don't hold it against you and when I get back home I will still consider you a friend. What people are willing to sit and listen to, however, are the details of my romantic encounters. Maybe it's because people think of the Caribbean as such a romantic place running wild with half naked, nicely chisled men with accents and dark chocolately complexions. While this is certainly the truth at times, romance and love have been a stranger to me here.

It is quite common that Peace Corps volunteers meet and "date" locals. It is only to be expected since our stay here is substantial enough to foster a real relationship should the volunteer be so lucky. Actually, in my group alone, 9 of the 13 volunteers have all had relationships at one time or another. Three of those have turned into long term relationships, and I have no doubt that one of those three will end in marriage. I wasn't as fortunate, but don't feel sorry for me. I think I was probably my own biggest enemy in finding a happy and healthy relationship. As an American, I am always having to be very cautious about a man's intentions because unfortunately, many of the men here want a "white girl" just for the bragging rights and it is highly likely that one day you'll be woken up at 8:30 in the morning by a phone call from his girlfriend inquiring as to why her boyfriend doesn't come home at his normal time anymore. (Insert nervous laughter here.) Obviously, this is purely hypothetical.

The first week I lived in Sauteurs I introduced myself to a man on the side of the road who sits day after day selling various things. Sometimes roasted corn, sometimes fruits, sometimes local wine, etc. He has a glass eye that is a bit odd to stare into at first, but you get used to it after some time. After two minutes of leisurely conversation he asks if I have a boyfriend, and not knowing any better yet I say, "No." He says, "Can I be your boyfriend?" To which I respond to with overly nervous laughter and I walk away saying, "Alright," which is the common way to end conversations here. But this is not uncommon, men wanting to be your boyfriend, men wanting to know if you need "company." I am used to what Peace Corps calls "unwanted attention," and I fear that upon my return to the United States, I may actually miss it. I mean. . . where else in the world can you come home from a long days work, sweat rolling down every nook and cranny, clothes haven't been washed in weeks, maybe you've packed on a few pounds, and yet. . .there is some man desiring you in all your fat, stinky, dirty glory?

Anyhow, I digress. (Is that how it's spelled?) I have found myself yearning for companionship especially these last few months. At the same time, as I've gotten older, I've also realized how much lonelier it can feel when you fill the void with meaningless encounters in hope of feeling something more. Therefore, I will wait for someone special, someone who deserves all the love that I have to give. So no. . .I have not fallen in love here and that is okay. I think if I had been more open to the possibility earlier in my service there was potential with one man, but I stupidly let that opportunity slip and there is nothing I can do now but wish him well and that is what I will do. No time for regrets. . .