Shadows

“I can’t watch those slave movies. It hurts too much.” She goes on to say that slavery is used as an excuse and it impedes today’s progress. Her pain is visibly set on her sleeve, yet she knows that progress begins when she moves forward.

Violence is rooted in cultural norms. One woman alleges “men twist scripture to their advantage”. Heads are nodding around the room.

Another woman says, “The priest's solution is to pray about it”. Her church completes her identify. The other half of her identity is the man who is beating her.

And so it goes when women congregate in a safe environment to talk about the women’s role in Saint Lucian society. The invisible veils that cover their lives come off and women get real. Some talk about how they teach their daughters to submit to the same cultural norms they criticize today.

Like Plato’s Allegory of the Cave, it takes a few women to awaken to the shadows of their past that do not represent truth. A woman looks over at me and says, “it’s hard to be a woman”.

Saint Lucia Tours - The Laborie Experience

The Caribbean Islands was never pegged on my travel map.

I’d seen the commercials on television; the beautiful aqua waters with coral reefs, the huge cruise ships docking in several ports, people drinking tropical drinks while laying on lush lounge chairs, snorkeling and sailing in an exotic island, being waited on in beautiful resorts.

I'm describing what you may have seen on the recent Bachelor television reality show. It's a tourist paradise. My sons said the same thing; the Caribbean Islands was never pegged on their maps either. We've just never been the type of people that like a 'tourist paradise'.

If it hadn’t been for my assignment on Saint Lucia, none of us would have spent our hard-earned money and precious vacation hours to bask in the sun and be handed tropical drinks by local waiters while lounging on freshly cleaned cushy chairs. Don't get me wrong, a day or two of this is alright, but, for me I want more. What a surprise to all of us when we learned there is so much more character to this beautiful island.

Saint Lucia has identified three pillars which are depended on to develop their economy: agriculture, manufacturing and tourism. Until a few years ago, agriculture was the stable pillar, but when the banana industry’s competition increased and hurricanes and insects destroyed crops that pillar began to wobble.

Today, Saint Lucia depends on the tourist. From a layman’s point-of-view, it appears there are problems this industry; foreign corporations that exploit the land, little dollars making it into the hands of locals, increased crime in the capitol and low level subsistence jobs name of few of the problems.

Reference the Westin Paradise, Saint Lucia. I can never resist giving a shout out to the Westin who leveled a beautiful island point and began building a new resort before the economy went south. They abandoned the site which now sits in a decaying state.

I sometimes wonder if tourism is the right focus, but I’m not an expert in the Tourism Industry in Saint Lucia. These are just simple observations and I concur no one has briefed me on the big picture and master tourism plan, and therefore, tourism could possibly be the next best thing that happens to the people of Saint Lucia.

One thing is for certain. I am an expert on my needs for my own personal travel. All those wonderful things that I said the island offers are not things that I look for when I travel. And, let’s get real. I’m just not into what they are selling me. But, that doesn’t mean the island doesn’t offer what I want.

Much to my surprise, and the surprise of my family, Saint Lucia offers what I want – they just failed to tell me about it. My two year assignment on this island enabled me to uncover the true beauty of the island. When Janyn and Tracy were here, I wanted them to see more than what they had seen in the marketing material. I wanted them to see Saint Lucia.

Laborie is a small village in the southwest Caribbean side of the island. It is likely a place where few, if any, tourists have been. It’s unlikely that a taxi driver would suggest such a place, but hopefully that is going to change. With a well-organized community and motivated people, the village received a grant to help them establish a village tour; The Laborie Experience.


The village is a short two bus ride distance from where I live. We arrived in Laborie and headed for the Foundation’s Community Center.

Toyla, our guide was waiting for us and from a half a block away I could see her waving her hand high in the air to signal we were going in the right direction. We visited a small museum which is incorporated inside the building. There were objects on display from the times of Caribs through the early 20th Century. It was a good introduction to the tour.

Arawak Artifacts


Old Tools - imagine trying to use this saw!



After a few minutes looking, studying and asking questions in the museum we were off to see the village.


We stopped at the Catholic Church, the largest building overlooking the village. It is said that it was built so that the priest could look out on the village during service to see those that were not attending.



Many of the people decorate the outside of their homes with conk shells that are still in bountiful supply at the local beach.


Strategically placed shingles protect old wooden homes from the pounding rain.


Older wooden structures are seen with ornate wooden carvings that decorate the older homes, but this is history. Newer homes are made from handmade bricks and cement balusters. Still a labor of love, but far less labor intensive.


Nestled behind a home and through a narrow walkway is the Bread Factory - a must see and taste experience!



A 'local' artist, JAG who is a former Laborie Peace Corps Volunteer and accomplished artist, painted this wall mural depicting of typical Laborie Life.



After the tour, we had a local lunch and visited the beach before heading home.



When my sister and niece decided to visit the island, I put this tour at the top of the list. There were two reasons; first, the money goes straight to the economy and supports local people and two, it is a way to connect with the people who live on the island.

Their non-traditional vacation involved teaching children how to make paper beads and leading a class in Junior Achievement. We walked through the rainforest. We watched a Leatherback Turtle attempt to lay eggs. We accompanied the children in the after-school program to the Mexican Embassy to view an exhibit and had a picnic on the beach later in the afternoon. We were invited to dinner at a friend’s house where they experience their first real taste of local food.

We did spend a couple of days beaching and drinking banana daiquiris, and although fun and relaxing, those weren’t the highlights. The daiquiris and beach don't create the stories we take home. It's the people, the culture and the experience of immersion that create the memories.

I wish Saint Lucia would market the rest of what this beautiful island has to offer. There is so much here. Saint Lucia is at the top of my family’s “best vacation” list.

The Food Pyramid

Type II Diabetes in Saint Lucia is of epidemic proportions. Imagine. A lot of starch and sugar is eaten here. I spoke with a woman several months ago about her mother. She had her leg amputated. The woman said to me, “The doctors are very quick to amputate”.

Given this information it made sense to add Nutrition to the structure in the after-school program. An entire month was dedicated to teaching the children about basic nutrition and the food pyramid. They were taught serving size and quizzed about various foods.

Today I went to the store to stock up on regular stuff that I eat. When I brought it home, I studied my purchase carefully. I examined the food group chart and to my surprise the things I purchased fit very well into the pyramid. Maraschino Cherries and dried apricots checks off one serving of the “fruit” group and the Pringles fills the daily requirement for vegetables. Water…check that one. Top Raman – great for the pasta group. Chocolate goes into “fat, oils and sweets”, but doesn’t it count for something that it’s mostly dark chocolate?

Now I could “beef up” the meat group … pardon the pun. But I have a problem with that group. First, I don’t really like meat. I don’t eat anything other than fish and chicken breasts. I really don’t like anything with bones because it reminds me of what I’m eating. I find that thoroughly disgusting. Yes, I know, if I was starving I would eat anything. I’ve heard that argument before. It’s just that I’m not starving.
But there is a bigger problem. Chickens in our village are fully equipped with backs, legs and thighs, but they don’t have breasts – seriously. If they do, they are hiding them from me because I’ve never been able to find them in the store in my village. I stalked this chicken to see it was hiding a breast, but I couldn’t really tell. It doesn’t matter anyway because I don’t cook. Fortunately for me I love almonds and exist on peanut butter … so I can check off the “protein” group.

I was talking to a Peace Corps friend yesterday. (You know who you are but I’m keeping your identify a secret to protect you. I’m a good friend and you may thank me later.) She had potato chips and coke for dinner. I’m sure she washed it down with a boatload of dark chocolate, but she didn’t confess to that. We both laughed before silence overcame us as we quietly reflected on what she had just said. I said, “Do you think we are going to live through this?”

Paper Beads

The Hub

There is a lot to say before we get to the point. The point, of course, is paper beads. But, I need to tell you how I got there in order for you to appreciate them.

I have my own Communication Center in Saint Lucia. The first feature of my Communication Center is my phones; I have lots of phones. I have a cell phone. I need it when I’m out and about. I’m not really good with it because I carry a backpack instead of a purse. It gets lost in my backpack so I put it in my pocket. It’s sensitive and turns itself off a lot. My friends know to send me an email when I don’t answer the phone.

I went through a period when I forgot to take it out of my pocket and washed a lot of phones in my semi-automatic washing machine. That was expensive. I solved the problem. I put a crumpled piece of paper in the washing machine. The paper was a symbol for me to find my phone before turning the water on. It worked; I haven’t washed a phone in months. Unfortunately, the phone that survived is the one that likes to turn itself off.

I have a landline. I need it to call other landlines because it costs more to dial a landline number from a cell phone. I may not have opted for this and just paid the extra cost, but I couldn’t get internet without getting a landline. Why? Well, the only thing I can figure is that when I arrived on the island there was no internet competition.

A lot of people carry two cell phones. We have two carriers and it’s expensive to make calls between the two companies. Some people wear their phones around their necks. Here is where I draw a line in the Caribbean beach sand. I will only have one cell phone and you will never catch me wearing it around my neck.

Many of the locals use texting to communicate. I became a “texter” when I began teaching at Los Angeles Harbor College. Students texted me to say they were late or couldn’t make it to class and for a myriad of other things they wanted to communicate. It’s not my preference, but I used it then and use it now.

I have a Vonage Phone. I know, I should have a Magic Jack. It’s a cheaper option, but I brought the Vonage box and, frankly, it’s too much trouble to switch. The Vonage Phone is hooked up to the internet and has a California area code so that people can call me and I can call them. It’s nice.

Another feature of the Communication Center is the internet. I rely on it for work and to keep in touch with friends. I research. I don’t have to GO to a library to get information. I use the internet to research material for courses and workshops. As alumni and faculty, I have access to several university libraries. Email is important. Occasionally, I use Skype when I want to see the people I’m talking to. It’s fun, but the pictures are less than clear so this Communication Center feature is not often used.

I have a Facebook account. Most of the volunteers have a Facebook Account and so it’s a good way to keep in touch. I use chat. I chat on Facebook and Gmail. I usually don’t initiate the chats, but I do chat. It’s definitely part of my Communication Center. And, of course, I’m a blogger. It’s my way of keeping in touch with a wide group of friends. Even if I don’t know you, by now you are my friend.

I pay bills on-line and occasionally make a purchase. Recently, I purchased two books from my friend Lois. She co-authored a new book called “Carried Away”. I’m a Paypal user which makes it easier to make purchases.

I recently sent two real letters using real stamps, something I haven’t done in years. It was different and fun, but I don’t feel like I’ll make it a habit. I prefer to use my Communication Center.

My Communication Center is a hub – a web of activity. Three phones, Skype, email, chat, texting, a bill paying and purchase center, a research tool, Facebook and Blogging. My Communication Center is a delicate balance of software, hardware, devices, wires and cables. As I recently found, it can be a house of cards.

Denial

When I returned from my trip to Costa Rica, I found my landline didn’t work. Although the landline is part of my Communication Center and is included in my Hub, it has less value to me. I looked at the dead phone sitting on the table and thought to myself, “I will report it just now”. In the meantime, I will pretend there is no problem. It’s just easier that way.

‘Just now’ in Saint Lucia means maybe in five minutes, maybe in a few hours, maybe tomorrow, next week, or maybe never. It’s pretty vague. Island living has compelled me to adapt this lack of urgency; at least when I choose to adapt to it.

I was in Castries last Tuesday and had a little free time. I wasn’t sure if I had paid the phone and internet bills yet so I stopped at Lime, my phone/internet carrier. This is another ‘just now’ thing. I’ve forgotten to pay my bills for two months and no one says anything. They never threatened to cut my service or even mention that the bill was overdue.

So, this is the way I roll in Saint Lucia. I go to the office and stand in line. I don’t like carrying a lot of money and prefer to pay the bill with a credit card. Sometimes after standing in the Lime line, I have to go to the bank and stand in line to get money and then return with cash to pay the Lime bills. I do this when the credit card machine doesn’t work. I’m used to the process. I patiently accept this. It’s part of Peace Corps charm.

The credit card machine worked yesterday. I hesitated because I thought I may be directed to another line, but mustered the courage. “My landline doesn’t work. How do I report this?” Much to my surprise she took the information right there. She punched information into the computer, asked a couple of questions and then said, “A repairman will be out within three days”. I thought to myself, “yes, or just now”. But as I said I have no sense of urgency about this phone.

I was working with the children in a neighboring village when my cell phone rang the next day. It always startles me when it rings because it shuts itself off so often. Anyway, it was the repairman! He explained he had fixed the problem from the little station in the village, but wanted to check to ensure everything was working properly. He needed to know how to locate my house.

This is always a chore because there are no street names of numbers. I explained in painful detail how to get to my house and then asked him to knock on my landlord’s door and ask them to let him in the house. I am convinced he either lives in this village or knows someone here because he understood every landmark I described.

Anger

When I got home I found that not only was the landline dead but I also have no internet. OMG, my entire Communication Center – the delicate balanced hub of activity has been disturbed. I cannot get phone calls from the U.S., can’t skype, make purchases, pay bills, research, email, chat…Nothing. I realize I don’t have a clue what I should be doing because I can’t access my on-line calendar. My communication hub is now confined to one phone; my cell phone. Whereas just yesterday the world was at my fingertips, my world has been reduced to one tiny island – Saint Lucia. Just now is not acceptable!

Little did I know that I would miss five days of work, make dozens of costly phone calls from my cell phone to LIME’s landline, experience success and then failure and that it would take over week to fix the problem. But, there is something about those frustrating and bad experiences in life that turn out to be introspective and humorous.

Frustration

At the After-School Program, the focus for the month is slavery. We are teaching the children to think broader. I asked them what it meant. They said that it meant that people were beaten but couldn’t come up with meaning beyond that. I asked them to find the definition of slavery on the computer. They discovered that it was when someone was forced to do something they did not want to do.

We talked about what they were “slaves” to in their world. They came up with a list of things. We talked about peer pressure. We talked about drugs and alcohol. As we explored this concept they began to understand that, although slavery in the more literal sense was devastating, wrong and frightening, they reasoned that they are slaves in a sense to things in their world. Just like slaves, it takes brave people to overcome the adversity.

As I sit here, isolated in my darkened room, feeling sorry for myself, frustrated and alone, I think about the discussion with the children. I conclude, I am a slave to my Communication Center. I, too must be brave. I shall overcome. Really? NO! I don’t want to overcome – just put my house of cards back in order….please.

Acceptance

Morning finally arrived. I made it through the night. One entire day without full use of my Communication Center and I’m still breathing. I made a pot of coffee, turned on the news and began tapping my finger. Would the repairman show up? Would it be today, or just now? I went downstairs and Elizabeth came out. She said, “Don’t panic, he will show up”.

It was well into the afternoon and no one had showed up. I was alright with it. Totally reconciled. I was calm and in control. I am bigger than this! It was 3:00 and I was just about to leave when there was a knock at my door. It was Elizabeth and just at the bottom of the stairs there was an angelic looking face. A beautiful man, complete with his own tool belt. Beyond that there was no white horse, but just as good. It was a black truck with a LIME logo on its side. Hello Digby!

He scampered up the phone poll and ran up my stairs to test, repeating this process several times. And all the sudden – the internet. The world again is at my fingertips. It was almost like I’d never known such peace. I slept well Thursday night. And then came Friday.

The LIME technician said, “I just fixed your line, can you test it?” “What?” I respond, “There was nothing wrong with my line!” For several seconds, the only thing I heard the technician say was, “Oh, sugar”. He said this many times. I asked, “Did you break it?” He could not answer. He only said “Oh, sugar”. I knew the answer.

It has now been eight days. So here’s what has been happening. Last Tuesday, I reported the landline was dead. My internet was fine. Wednesday they came and broke the internet so I had no phone or internet. Thursday Digby fixed it. Friday the unknown “Oh, sugar” man broke it, closed the ticket and left. No one works weekends. Monday I opened a new ticket. Tuesday they said they were here in the village trying to fix it from the LIME office. I’m not sure if there is any truth to that. They also indicated they couldn’t fix it and would be back today. I’m not sure there is any truth to that either.

My landlady, Elizabeth, came to my house today with a piece of homemade cake and said she was going to Vieux Fort and would put “threatening LIME” on her list of things to do while there. I’m not sure why, but she is still in the “anger” stage. I need to help her get to “acceptance”.

So, what am I doing to make this tolerable? I’m making paper beads.

Paper Beads

I used to grow things when I was younger. When John and I were first married, we had a communal vegetable garden complete with a scarecrow. We lived in a three-plex and we were all friends. The first year we planted twenty-six tomato plants, not realizing that many plants would likely supply the entire neighborhood with tomatoes.

I had hundreds of houseplants. I took the curtains down and the plants supplied our privacy. I remember sitting on the front porch with my oldest son, then two. Together we repotted plants, added nutrients to the soil and watered them.

I made lots of Christmas decorations and usually had a needlepoint on hand to sew. I macraméd and crocheted. Most surprising is that I also cooked and baked. We barbequed in the yard we shared with our friends. No one had much money then so communal dinners were not only fun, but a survival strategy.

After a handful of years, we bought a house and moved from the three-plex. Slowly life began to take hold. Two more children, Little League, school functions, a full time job, long hours and travel, a lawn that needed to be mowed, walls that needed paint and laundry that needed to be washed, replaced the hobbies that previously took so much of my time.

I was never really great at any of the things I did, but the hobbies were relaxing. I didn’t stop doing all those things at once – it was a slow change. Slow enough where I didn’t really notice.

And now, there is another change. A slow change, but significant. There are no longer children to take care of and all the things that go with it. I retired from my job and I gave my lawn mower away and hired a gardener. I signed up for Peace Corps and moved to another country where I live in a rented apartment so there are no walls to paint. I stopped cooking years ago, although I still occasionally bake; even here.

Technology now takes up most of my time. Internet research and work that requires a computer, online videos, music, blogging, emails, Facebook, chats, and perusing websites that supply endless stories written by unknown but talented writers in need of an audience – these are the things that now take up my discretionary time.

The internet is my diversion when I work. It’s my break – the way I clear my head. An hour of work – then thirty minutes of surfing into the black hole of time.

I tried turning on the television, but was bored. I’ve read everything interesting and the only books I have left are books that I started but found less than engrossing. I listen to my IPod, but long to multitask so I clean.

Then I remembered the instructions I stumbled onto a few weeks ago. They were easy instructions on how to make paper beads. I’m not sure how I came upon it. I wasn’t looking for it. It’s just what happens when surfing the internet. So, today, taking a break from creating a new workshop on event planning, I made paper beads.

While I was cutting and gluing, I thought of the hours I spent on past hobbies and the peace it brought me. It was fun and relaxing. It was also rewarding because I had something to show for my time. It’s nice to get back to basics, but I do miss the internet!

Thanksgiving, Part II

Three days a week I go over to the school to visit the after-school program. I help out where needed, but mainly I’m there to see if there are problems, if things are running smoothly and monitor the progress of the team. And, I like to see the children.


The program has a focused subject each month and they are currently studying nutrition. I have no idea where the poster that is hanging on the wall came from. It is a curious picture to find on this island. It doesn’t really matter; the assignment the facilitator came up with is a good one. She asked the children to study the poster and write a story about what they think might be happening.


When I walked into the room, I heard a flood of children trying to get my attention, “Miss Karen, read my story!” Suddenly I was surrounded by little people shoving paper into my hands. I read each story and with enthusiasm I tell each of them how wonderful their stories are.



One little boy saw the poster with Mary and baby Jesus in Bethlehem. They were having a picnic. Other children saw the characters as their own families and carved stories around the characters in the poster. With each story I read, I became increasingly amused.


Then I read a story that says, “the meat has socks”. . . What? I look for the child assuming there is an error on the paper. Then the facilitator points out what she learned after questioning the little girl.


I study the picture which is a representation of the first Thanksgiving Dinner. There are Native Americans, Pumpkin Pie, Pilgrims and a turkey. And the turkey legs are decorated with frills. Of course! It makes perfect sense. The meat has socks!

Thanksgiving, Part I

I never gave it much thought until yesterday. As adults we take things for granted. It takes a child to point out the ridiculous that is right before us.

Do you know what a frill is? Alright, here is a hint: it’s a noun. Need another hint? OK, you are likely to see a frill in a fancy restaurant or on Thanksgiving. Perplexed? Are you reaching for your dictionary? I will save you the trouble.

According to Webster, frill is defined as, “a strip of paper curled at one end and rolled to be slipped over the bone end (as of a chop) in serving.” You know, it’s those silly looking paper things they put on the legs of those poor turkeys that end up on our dinner table.

Only one turkey gets

pardoned. I wonder if the pardoned turkey, assuming he knows about frills, feels that it is disrespectful to put silly paper decorations on the legs of his deceased comrades.

Yes, I eat turkey, but the more I research information for this little blog post, the more distasteful it becomes. I may be off on a tangent, but I am going somewhere with this and I promise you it will have an element of Saint Lucia in this story.

Why do frills exist anyway? Do you know that you can find directions on the internet to make your own frills! Who has the time for this? Even if I did cook, it would not occur to me that I should buy ready-made frills to decorate the poor bird. It’s hard to believe a company could make a profit on these things.

The more I looked into this subject, the more absurd it became. Do you know that there is a company who not only makes frills, but they also make soup socks, lobster bibs and evendough bands; don’t ask. Now this is an entrepreneur! This takes some out of the box thinking. But now I’m way off the subject.

Actually, you are lucky. A quick search of the internet did not reveal the history of frills. Although I am still curious, I will let this one go. I conclude: they just are. OHMMMMMMMMM.

There is a story behind this story. You are likely wondering, assuming you are still reading, why I would be writing about frills in April and will I ever get to the point of this story. Stay tuned for the conclusion to this story: Thanksgiving Part II.

TRADING ONE TROPICAL PARADISE FOR ANOTHER

Costa Rica is a beautiful developing country. One week is hardly enough time to become acquainted with this country and people, but it is an appetizer. So, I took a much needed vacation and below are a few stories of my week which started with an overnight in Miami.

MIAMI BEACH

Elaine and I walked through Miami Airport talking about memories of the last time we were here together. It was August 25, 2008, the day we left as trainees for our new country of Saint Lucia. “Remember all the luggage? Why did we bring so much stuff? I was so nervous. Oh, that’s where I had a pastry and coffee while we waited for the plane.”

We sat on Nikki’s patio eating blueberries and raspberries which tasted so good. Nikki, Elaine’s daughter, and her friend Mary laughed at us as we talked about the small treat. These are fruits not readily available in Saint Lucia. Later we walked along South beach and sat in an outdoor café eating crepes and drinking mimosas. Everything tasted so good. We flagged a taxi to rush over to our six o’clock hair appointment. Oh, I feel human again!

After a quick shopping trip we went to Bill’s house, a high rise apartment with an incredible view of the city. A mannequin dressed as a bandit with a toy gun greeted us in the entry way and another mannequin dressed as a nurse holding toilet paper invaded the bathroom privacy. Barbie’s hanging from the ceiling fan and swinging in the breeze were illuminated by the colored light wheel that bounced off the aluminum Christmas tree. To say the least, it was interesting décor. We talked and laughed with Bill and his three sisters while we ate the pear tart they had spent an entire afternoon making.

IS IT PROGRESS OR DESTRUCTION?

The sign reads, “Costa Rica is not for Sale”. We hired a driver to navigate the three hours of road, mostly paved but then again some is not. A few minutes before we arrived at our hotel, we stopped to look at the ocean view. That is when we spotted the sign painted on the bus stop’s concrete wall. The colorfully painted words had the same meaning as the comments I hear from Saint Lucians about their country.

People are attracted to Costa Rica, as they are Saint Lucia, because of the beauty of the land and also because it is a less expensive means to retire or own a vacation home. When riding on the long two land highway there is billboard after billboard advertising luxury housing in Costa Rica.

A few miles and villages away from my village in Saint Lucia is an abandoned hotel development thanks to the Westin. The beautiful points overlooking the sea were leveled and a half finished and now a decaying hotel sits on this site. In Costa Rica there are long drive-ways leading to gates with guards that lead to homes with beautiful ocean views. It’s probably safe to say not many, if any Costa Rican’s live behind the gates.

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“A new company is here to build roads. They are taking rocks and sand from our river.” It was toward the end of our trip and we were on our way to raft on the river. I asked the river guide how he feels about the company building roads. “Well, I don’t like it, but there’s not much we can do about it. They are taking our river from us.”

Although Costa Rica is far ahead in its conservation and eco-tourism and considered a leader by many, still I wonder where the holler monkeys, lizards, snakes, birds, sloths, and frogs are that occupied the beautiful views that were once home. Their home now belong to wealthy foreigners who come here to retire behind the guarded gates.

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Many people in Saint Lucia are disappointed with the exploitation and destruction of the beauty that belongs to them. The message at the small Costa Rica Bus Stop appears to compliment the sentiments of many in Saint Lucia.

THE SHOPPING

Why would anyone come to Costa Rica and buy a colorfully painted wooden chicken? This was just one of the unanswered questions I had as I browsed the stores.

Why would they name a store that sells bicycles and washing machines “El Gallo, Mas Gallo”? This is one of those questions that will likely be a mystery for my entire life.

When I die my first two questions might be “Who shot JFK and why did they name an appliance store El Gallo, Mas Gallo?” And, really . . . why do they carry bicycles and washing machines?

************

“Que Café es strong”. The woman has a confused look. We are on our own to choose between many brands of coffee. Elaine says, “I like this packaging”. She picks a couple of pounds of Costa Rican coffee and I follow suit choosing three packages of coffee based on which packaging is the prettiest. Coffee and chocolate. I think I might have enough to get me through a couple of months.

THE PEOPLE

The tourist industry is well developed and organized in Costa Rica. Hotel workers, taxi drivers, tour guides and shop owners are all eager to share their country and make tourists feel welcome. Humor is frequent and teasing tourists is a national pastime.

*************

After a brief 10 minute walk going up many steps we were finally at the top. Strapped into a harness with hooks around our waist and helmets on our heads we reached the first platform.

Linda approached the first line, jumped up and George hooked the zip line that would carry her across to the next platform. Hanging by one hook and clutching the tethered rope while hoping for the best, she shifted her feet from the safety of the platform to the thrill of suspension.

Just as she began her ride across the rainforest George calls out “wait!” Humor bordered between kind of funny and downright funny. Actually, I likely thought that was more funny than Linda did.

************

There were many huge iguanas, frogs, and lizards on the grounds of our hotel. One night I saw this small white and fluorescent colored lizard. I’d never seen anything like it before. Elaine and I were captivated by this creature. We went to get the manager and brought him to see this beautiful creature. He says, “it must be a chameleon.” Then another worker walked over to it, picked it up and put it back on the night desk next to the other plastic toys.

*************

”Look Elaine, they use the same hand signal we do!” A family was standing by the roadside in humid heat. They put their hand high in the air and brought it down, elbows straight. The only difference between flagging a bus in Costa Rica and flagging a bus in Saint Lucia is that our bus holds 14 passengers and their bus likely holds 114 passengers. As a Peace Corps Volunteer, the bus is an interesting thing to see.

*********

“Mi familia!” he said. “Do you mind if we take my family home? It’s only five minutes.” We were all tired, but it didn’t matter. We had been rafting on the river most of the day and our guides made the trip a lot of fun.

No one spoke until the door opened and Miguel’s sister, mother and two children climbed into the van. “They are my nieces; my sister’s children.” The youngest crawled onto the seat next to Miguel. He gently put his arm around her and whispered in her ear and then kissed her forehead. The love he has for his family poured through the van.

We stopped and Miguel pointed up a dirt road, “this is our home”. He explained that it was at the top of the hill with a view of the river at one side and the ocean on the other. This is a poor family. Miguel is highly regarded in the village because he has a good job working with tourists and has learned to speak English.

Miguel has long curly hair, dimples and enough presence and charisma to light up a stadium. Witty and energetic and animated, the first time we saw him he popped in the van, laughed and said, “Does my hair look ok? They call me the crazy one.”

SMALL VILLAGES

The sign reads, “Keep going. You are not lost.” We had been on dirt roads for more than an hour. When row after row of African Palm Farms were not seen, we would see row after row of Teak Tree Farms. We passed two small villages just before arriving. El Silencio and another village name I cannot remember.

The villages only have about five hundred people in them. They operate as a coop village. Most don’t have cars, but have oxen and carts. They work on the Teak and African Palm Farms. Things have changed over the last few years. The government understands the value of the land and the devastation cutting down a rain forest can bring. They pay people to not use the land for anything other than growing enough food for survival.

We pass the secondary school where about 25 students study. There is an outdoor café and bar which resembles so many I see here in Saint Lucia.

We stopped at a home with a well manicured lawn and orchids hanging in a shady area. A man comes out and waves to the driver. “Would you all like to stop for a cold drink?” It’s amazing how friendly people are.
After a considerably long ride on a bumpy dirt road where the signs kept saying we were really not lost, we came across the last sign, “bad road ends here”. We drove up the long road and the scenery looked like we had entered a piece of Africa.

The owners, it turns out, are from South Africa and built Rafiki Lodge with a vision of conservation, sustainability, eco-tourism and economic community growth. The lodge employs twenty-one people and sits against 800 acres of national land preserve.

People in the villages look up to the workers who are paid above average wages. One is a recent college graduate.

We are taken on a tour of the land, shown the incredible “Tent” accommodations and they explain the vision for the property.

They want to develop eco-tourism to help the nearby villages, continue the hotel business to sustain eco-tourism to help local villages, to be a sustainable lodge and also to raise and reintroduce the Tapir, an endangered animal, into the rain forest.

We are here today to enjoy a somewhat leisurely raft trip down the river. We stopped at a local waterfall and a picnic lunch. In between stops we jumped out of the raft and floated in the calm pools of water.

We wound up the day enjoying a peaceful view while rocking our chairs and drinking cool refreshments.

FARMING

They make the equivalent of $20 a day, but only if they produce a bounty of the small almond shaped pods. They carry large sticks with knives attached to them to cut down a bunch of palm nuts. Each bunch weighs upwards of ninety to one hundred pounds.

The workers hoist them into large containers and then set them on a cart powered by large oxen. This back-breaking work is done in the tropics. It is hot and humid.

It takes three to five years for a tree to produce and after twenty years, give or take a few, the palms are injected with diesel fuel to kill them. New palms replace old ones. Palm oil is exported and exports ring up a big economy for Costa Rica.

Do you ever think to yourself, “I wonder where henna die comes from?” I didn’t think so, but if you did, look no further for I have the answer.

On the way to zip, repel and swing through the forrest, Meffey, our driver stopped and pointed to one of the many teak trees on the farm. Teak Trees have very large oval shaped leaves.

Meffey picked a leaf and broke off a small piece. He squeezed it into a ball and a bright red liquid poured out of the veins and oozed onto his hand while he explained the value of this brilliant color. Teak farms are plentiful in Costa Rica, not just for the wood, but also for the Henna they export.

WILDLIFE AND NATURE

There were sloths, monkeys, bats, stickbirds and flowers. I can't remember the technical names of most of the things I saw.

I usually take meticulous notes so I can remember details. This time I was there for pure enjoyment. No notes and little technical memory.

We hired Michael to be our guide at Manuel Antonio National Park. Michael carried a large telescope that allowed us to see details of birds and frogs and other assorted animals and creatures. Costa Rica has daily life that includes spotting black squirrels and iguanas.

The land is filled with colorful birds with sounds that I’ve only heard in tropical settings. Frogs and lizards abound. Butterflies are ever-present companions on the trails.

It seemed like we were always looking up. Oh, my poor neck! But the massage therapist we met later in the week took care of that problem.

“Look over there. Ten o’clock! Do you see the Booby Birds?” They always lead us to them” said Jason. On this day we were on a catamaran.

The catamaran shifted into high speed and other boats were chasing too. The race was on. The motor went silent and all that could be heard was “ooh, ah”.

It’s always a special treat to watch wild dolphins. There are no pictures here as I spent the day in freedom.

Earlier in the day we boarded the boat for an afternoon of dolphin watching and snorkeling. On the way back we were served dinner as we watched the sunset. Life is good.

FRIENDSHIP

I thought this trip was going to be about taking a break from work, which it was. I thought this trip would be about relaxation, seeing wildlife and countryside beauty and it was. I thought this trip would be about water holes, rivers and oceans and pools and it was. I thought this trip was going to be about monkeys and lizards and sloths and iguana’s and it was. It was also about de-compartmentalizing friendships and bringing diversity to our experience. We were four, oh-so-different people and it was fabulous to hang out with them for the week! So here we are: Carol, Linda, me and Elaine.

IT'S TIME TO LEAVE

After a little shopping and a wonderful last Costa Rican dinner we headed across the street to watch the sunset. Local families were waiting on the rocks as the sun danced into the Pacific waters and peaked out from the clouds. Families rode by on fishing boats and everyone was waiting for the predictable nightly show.

As we walked back into the town to catch a ride, we noticed no one had power. Upon returning to our hotel we discovered that we didn’t have electricity or water. Ah, the Peace Corps life. Elaine and I looked at each other and said, “We know how to deal with this!”

This is the last meal until I walk down the plank and plunge into a pool of peanut butter.” Elaine and I are sitting at Yoko’s Restaurant in Miami Beach and talking about the last ten days with Nikki and Mary. We had an amazing meal and possibly one of the most decadent desserts I’ve eaten, a warm tempura fried cheesecake with whipped cream and raspberry sauce – be still my heart…literally! We walked outside and Nikki took our picture under the Yoko’s sign.

As we left the restaurant, we reminisced about our friend Yoko, a Japanese Volunteer. Nikki took our picture under the sign and Elaine sent it to her to let her know she isn’t forgotten and we miss her.

It is my last flight into Saint Lucia. It is a beautiful island and I want to remember the incredible vision from the plane. So, as a typical tourist, I snapped a few shots for my memory bank.