Writings of Saint Lucia, Ghana and life in general. A Peace Corps Volunteer in St. Lucia, visiting faculty in Ghana and grandma for life. This is a look back at the details of my travels and a document for my grandchildren. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. This blog does not express views of U.S. Peace Corps, Webster University, my family, dog or any institutions named or linked to these pages. It's life observation as I interpret it.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Balance Bars
For those that have asked - the balance bars I like are on the right side of this page. If you are thinking of sending a few, be advised that postage is expensive. Thanks to those of you who have put a couple of them in the mail.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Pitons and Sheep
People on the island are always preparing for one. They spend time anticipating. They talk about it. It’s on the radio and television. There are events leading up to it. They are at the center of their culture. My village is one of four lucky villages who are “officially” planning a celebration, although unofficially just about every village is planning their own celebration. It’s party time…again. It seems that there is always something to celebrate. The island is one big party. There is Carnival which is a national holiday , the Jazz Festival, Village Days, even OctoberFest. But right now we are busy preparing for Jounen Kreywol (Creole Day).
The purpose is to celebrate and educate Saint Lucian’s about their cultural heritage – but really, it’s a party. The official date for this activity is the last weekend in October; however, because of the level of excitement in the air, there are events that lead to the official activity. Tonight was a re-creation of an authentic Indian Wedding Ceremony. The acoustics in the room were poor and the speakers were load…really load. This is very normal. If it’s load, it’s a party.
When I walk down the streets of any village or the capital there is very loud music coming from shops. There is a rum shop on each corner as well as in the middle of the block. There are make-shift bars on street corners. Many have speaker systems in their cars which they park, blasting music while people gather. Drinking Piton’s (the local beer) on the street, listening to music, and catching up with friends is a typical scene after work. There are tables and chairs set up outside various shops (some rum shops, some restaurants, some clothing stores) and people are drinking and playing dominoes. Music draws people – and, therefore, loud competing music is the order of the day. People drive cars with loud speakers, marketing various products – mostly phone carriers. Music is played between advertising messages.
Nina fixed my hair, Lucian style. Nisha, her sister, argued with her about how to comb it, insisting she could do it better. They are still talking about braiding my hair in corn rows, but there is not enough time tonight. The wedding will be in the village at 7:00 – Saint Lucian time, meaning the wedding will probably take place between nine and ten. The village is where people lime (hang-out) in my community. It is a street in the village that is filled with restaurants and rum shops and loud music. The hall rented for the event is upstairs. As Bea and I drive up we can hear Indian music competing with Reggae at one end of the street and Country music at the other. There are liming people everywhere. It’s very much like a street party. There is little doubt where we are going. We follow the sound of the Indian music. We walk past the person stationed outside the door who is collecting a EC$2 entrance fee and walk up the steps. It is dark and there are a few ceiling fans, some of which work. The floor is cement and the walls are painted a bright blue. There are at least a dozen speakers set up around the room. Each speaker is bigger than me and I notice men struggling when they move them. There is a stage at the far end of the room which is somewhat difficult to see because it’s the darkest part of the room. There are lights throughout the room; some of which work. There is a bar with a list of drinks available written on the small chalkboard positioned on the wall behind the bar. Bea and I walk past the bar and into the room behind it. This is where we are going to set up the food which will be sold. This room is used as a gym during the day. People in Saint Lucia are aware of the benefits of healthy lifestyles. There are signs on the walls “No Pain, No Gain” and “No Idle bodies”. There are exercise balls, free weights and benches.
I think of my son, Jay.
He would likely look at this as an eating opportunity. I look at it as an eating nightmare. I don’t really understand Indian food and they have slaughtered a sheep for the event which makes the food even more distasteful in my mind. Fortunately for me, I’ve been assigned to a country that values people who have chosen vegetarianism. When I tell people I only eat chicken and fish on rare occasions and never red meats, they respond in a positive manner. Most have at least tried to be vegetarians and view it as a healthy lifestyle. Things are only partially set up and people are coming in ready to purchase food. I quickly realize they need help. I put my purse under one of the table-clothed draped tables and step behind the tables ready to serve. There is a steady stream of hungry Saint Lucian families. It isn’t just the young party-going crowd that lime. Liming is a family activity.
T
he music is turned off and the Master of Ceremonies has the microphone. The sound system is the perfect storm. Squeaking and squealing sounds are coming through the huge speakers around the room. No one pays much attention to the imperfections. The speakers were never turned down. He has a thick accent. All these things make it difficult to understand what is being communicated. At times I’m not sure if he’s speaking Kreyol or English. Lucian’s speak so fast that their English is barely understandable.
Hearing small bits and pieces of information, I piece together the message. The person who is to officiate the wedding has issued a statement of regrets. He had a funeral to attend and won’t make it to the celebration. The MC goes on to describe what a wedding might look like if we were to actually see it. This takes up several minutes. No one seems to mind because there is plenty of Piton and Sheep left to consume. I wish I knew more about the cultural aspect of this Indian Wedding, but I don’t. What I do know is this: it was a great party! What I am hoping is that my ear drums hold up during these two years.
The purpose is to celebrate and educate Saint Lucian’s about their cultural heritage – but really, it’s a party. The official date for this activity is the last weekend in October; however, because of the level of excitement in the air, there are events that lead to the official activity. Tonight was a re-creation of an authentic Indian Wedding Ceremony. The acoustics in the room were poor and the speakers were load…really load. This is very normal. If it’s load, it’s a party.
When I walk down the streets of any village or the capital there is very loud music coming from shops. There is a rum shop on each corner as well as in the middle of the block. There are make-shift bars on street corners. Many have speaker systems in their cars which they park, blasting music while people gather. Drinking Piton’s (the local beer) on the street, listening to music, and catching up with friends is a typical scene after work. There are tables and chairs set up outside various shops (some rum shops, some restaurants, some clothing stores) and people are drinking and playing dominoes. Music draws people – and, therefore, loud competing music is the order of the day. People drive cars with loud speakers, marketing various products – mostly phone carriers. Music is played between advertising messages.
Nina fixed my hair, Lucian style. Nisha, her sister, argued with her about how to comb it, insisting she could do it better. They are still talking about braiding my hair in corn rows, but there is not enough time tonight. The wedding will be in the village at 7:00 – Saint Lucian time, meaning the wedding will probably take place between nine and ten. The village is where people lime (hang-out) in my community. It is a street in the village that is filled with restaurants and rum shops and loud music. The hall rented for the event is upstairs. As Bea and I drive up we can hear Indian music competing with Reggae at one end of the street and Country music at the other. There are liming people everywhere. It’s very much like a street party. There is little doubt where we are going. We follow the sound of the Indian music. We walk past the person stationed outside the door who is collecting a EC$2 entrance fee and walk up the steps. It is dark and there are a few ceiling fans, some of which work. The floor is cement and the walls are painted a bright blue. There are at least a dozen speakers set up around the room. Each speaker is bigger than me and I notice men struggling when they move them. There is a stage at the far end of the room which is somewhat difficult to see because it’s the darkest part of the room. There are lights throughout the room; some of which work. There is a bar with a list of drinks available written on the small chalkboard positioned on the wall behind the bar. Bea and I walk past the bar and into the room behind it. This is where we are going to set up the food which will be sold. This room is used as a gym during the day. People in Saint Lucia are aware of the benefits of healthy lifestyles. There are signs on the walls “No Pain, No Gain” and “No Idle bodies”. There are exercise balls, free weights and benches.
I think of my son, Jay.
He would likely look at this as an eating opportunity. I look at it as an eating nightmare. I don’t really understand Indian food and they have slaughtered a sheep for the event which makes the food even more distasteful in my mind. Fortunately for me, I’ve been assigned to a country that values people who have chosen vegetarianism. When I tell people I only eat chicken and fish on rare occasions and never red meats, they respond in a positive manner. Most have at least tried to be vegetarians and view it as a healthy lifestyle. Things are only partially set up and people are coming in ready to purchase food. I quickly realize they need help. I put my purse under one of the table-clothed draped tables and step behind the tables ready to serve. There is a steady stream of hungry Saint Lucian families. It isn’t just the young party-going crowd that lime. Liming is a family activity.T
he music is turned off and the Master of Ceremonies has the microphone. The sound system is the perfect storm. Squeaking and squealing sounds are coming through the huge speakers around the room. No one pays much attention to the imperfections. The speakers were never turned down. He has a thick accent. All these things make it difficult to understand what is being communicated. At times I’m not sure if he’s speaking Kreyol or English. Lucian’s speak so fast that their English is barely understandable. Hearing small bits and pieces of information, I piece together the message. The person who is to officiate the wedding has issued a statement of regrets. He had a funeral to attend and won’t make it to the celebration. The MC goes on to describe what a wedding might look like if we were to actually see it. This takes up several minutes. No one seems to mind because there is plenty of Piton and Sheep left to consume. I wish I knew more about the cultural aspect of this Indian Wedding, but I don’t. What I do know is this: it was a great party! What I am hoping is that my ear drums hold up during these two years.
Grateful Reflection
Several years ago I went to Europe with my friends Linda and Jayne. We saw the London Eye, The Arc de Triumph, the Mona Lisa, and we rode the underwater train. We also saw the Waterworks Park in the Netherlands. Water is a problem there – holding the sea back is an everyday fight and they are the leading world experts on building dams. We American’s forget that we don’t always have the answers; it was the engineers in the Netherlands that were called upon to study the New Orleans problem. The dam is an impressive structure, but almost equally impressive is the educational facility that shares the massive dam structure. It is filled with information. There is a 3D video where we wore those crazy cardboard glasses with green and red cellophane lenses; there were exhibits and interactive stations designed to teach the technology and the effort that goes into keeping their land above water.
As I wandered through the facility, I turned a corner and there was something quite curious. There were several life sized black and white posters. They were big and imposing and I was startled when I turned that corner. They were pictures of African children playing on a dirt field. They had large sticks and they were moving old tires through the field, dust flying and smiles on their faces. A child’s game so life size that I could almost hear their screams of joy. How curious! Standing next to the posters was a woman who was waiting for my question. I’m sure she was asked a million times daily, “Why are these posters here? What does this have to do with anything we are learning?” When the answer came, it was one of those defining moments in my life; one of those moments that would stick in my memory because the answer was so profound. The woman smiled and gave a very simple answer, “We may have too much water, but we must remember that there are those that don’t have enough”. Wow!
Why do we whine so much? When we need something, the first thing we demand is money. Throw money at our educational system and all our problems will be fixed. Right? The educational system in Saint Lucia has problems. They have very little resources. Textbooks are difficult to come by and many that they do have are badly out of date. There is very little technology including televisions, DVD players, and computers at the primary school level. The teachers have limited formal education – at most an Associates Degree and a teaching certificate. There is no air conditioning in the classrooms and the noise level is extreme. This is hardly an environment conducive for learning.
One primary school I visited this week has done something about it. With only a few cans of paint, a little plywood, a few seeds, and the helping hands of the village, they created a school that is fun, happy, and filled with physical and mental activities that immediately make children think. The middle of the courtyard is filled with physical education activities. They have large dice that children throw. They must add the numbers on the dice and then they advance throughout a large playing “board” painted on the asphalt. There are spaces that say “Go back three spaces” or “advance two spaces”. There are games where you Jump the Letter and a Wheel of Fortune game where children must form words. 
I couldn’t resist hopscotch and found it so much more difficult than when I was ten years old. There is a large clock on the wall where children can move the hands to change the time. 
There is a reading room painted with bright colors and words on the walls and filled with books and comfortable chairs and even a lumpy bed with large pillows for comfy reading. There are toys that teach math as well as reading. Yhatzee, bingo, and other games are used for teaching. Outside there is a garden where children not only learn to grow vegetables, but learn math when planting the seeds. The fruits of their labor are transported to the cafeteria where they learn good nutrition. The leftover vegetables and fruits are sold to the community. This year they made $300; money that can be used to further improve their school. This was one of the happiest schools I’ve seen in awhile. Like the people in the Netherlands, they are grateful for what they have.
As I wandered through the facility, I turned a corner and there was something quite curious. There were several life sized black and white posters. They were big and imposing and I was startled when I turned that corner. They were pictures of African children playing on a dirt field. They had large sticks and they were moving old tires through the field, dust flying and smiles on their faces. A child’s game so life size that I could almost hear their screams of joy. How curious! Standing next to the posters was a woman who was waiting for my question. I’m sure she was asked a million times daily, “Why are these posters here? What does this have to do with anything we are learning?” When the answer came, it was one of those defining moments in my life; one of those moments that would stick in my memory because the answer was so profound. The woman smiled and gave a very simple answer, “We may have too much water, but we must remember that there are those that don’t have enough”. Wow!
Why do we whine so much? When we need something, the first thing we demand is money. Throw money at our educational system and all our problems will be fixed. Right? The educational system in Saint Lucia has problems. They have very little resources. Textbooks are difficult to come by and many that they do have are badly out of date. There is very little technology including televisions, DVD players, and computers at the primary school level. The teachers have limited formal education – at most an Associates Degree and a teaching certificate. There is no air conditioning in the classrooms and the noise level is extreme. This is hardly an environment conducive for learning.
One primary school I visited this week has done something about it. With only a few cans of paint, a little plywood, a few seeds, and the helping hands of the village, they created a school that is fun, happy, and filled with physical and mental activities that immediately make children think. The middle of the courtyard is filled with physical education activities. They have large dice that children throw. They must add the numbers on the dice and then they advance throughout a large playing “board” painted on the asphalt. There are spaces that say “Go back three spaces” or “advance two spaces”. There are games where you Jump the Letter and a Wheel of Fortune game where children must form words. I couldn’t resist hopscotch and found it so much more difficult than when I was ten years old. There is a large clock on the wall where children can move the hands to change the time. There is a reading room painted with bright colors and words on the walls and filled with books and comfortable chairs and even a lumpy bed with large pillows for comfy reading. There are toys that teach math as well as reading. Yhatzee, bingo, and other games are used for teaching. Outside there is a garden where children not only learn to grow vegetables, but learn math when planting the seeds. The fruits of their labor are transported to the cafeteria where they learn good nutrition. The leftover vegetables and fruits are sold to the community. This year they made $300; money that can be used to further improve their school. This was one of the happiest schools I’ve seen in awhile. Like the people in the Netherlands, they are grateful for what they have.Friday, October 10, 2008
Riding the bus is only a small part of my life on Saint Lucia
I love the comments that are left on my blog and I look forward to reading the emails you send. Lately, I have received a couple of comments that go something like this, “Do you do anything besides ride the bus?” Well, the answer is yes, I do lots of other things. After reading through my posts, I can see why you might be a little confused about what I’m doing.
There is extensive training associated with becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer. It started with staging in Miami in late August. Our group, known as EC78 (Eastern Caribbean 78), had a twelve hour orientation before we departed for Saint Lucia. There are 38 of us in the group. We filled out mounds of paperwork, decided if we wanted to buy life insurance, got to know one another and talked about Peace Corps in general. After a day and a half we took a bus to the airport and boarded a plane headed for Saint Lucia.
Our plane landed and the Country Director was there to meet us along with other staff and current Peace Corps Volunteers. We collected mounds of suitcases, were loaded into large busses and were transported to the Pastoral Center in the northern part of the island. Once there, we settled in for three more days of orientation, this time more specific to the Eastern Caribbean. We had our pictures taken for our identification cards, were given inoculations and just as we were comfortable, it was once again time to move on.
This was the last time we saw most of our group – and will be the last time we see each other as a whole until close of service in 2010. I stayed in Saint Lucia with thirteen others. The rest were transported to their islands of assignment. Our group was taken to the Peace Corps Office in Saint Lucia. We brought our suitcases into the office which filled an entire room. By now we were sick of all that luggage! It was very tempting to start throwing it over the cliffs but we resisted. We were taken to the training room in the back of the office and each of us waited to meet our host family. One by one, host families came for their volunteers, the luggage dissipating and fear and anticipation growing. Finally, mine came. They piled my stuff into their family pickup truck and brought me to the village where I would be living for two years, and to their house where I would be staying for seven weeks.
Peace Corps arranges for us to stay with a host family for a couple of reasons. First, they help us integrate into the community. Second, during training there is a lot to learn, there is homework and presentations that need to be prepared. While we study, learn about our communities, figure out how to get around, and become acclimated to the new environment, our host family takes care of us. They not only give us a place to stay, but help us with language, prepare our meals and pack meals to go with us and answer our endless questions. They feel a sense of responsibility for us.
Many of us, including me, are grilled each day about what we eat. They serve me so much food and look at me quizzically when I suggest it is way too much. Tonight I was given chicken, beans, macaroni and cheese and vegetables for dinner. I ate none of it and instead suggested that we pack it up and I will take it with me for lunch tomorrow. I always have a back-up of food in the refrigerator to eat. The notion of eating several small meals is a foreign concept in Saint Lucia. Bea looked at me tonight and repeated the same concern she has every night, “I’m worried about you not eating.” I gave her my usual response, “I’m getting plenty of calories. Please don’t worry. If I’m hungry, I’ll tell you.” I’ve heard that there have been volunteers who have said they didn’t get enough food and Peace Corps was not happy about that. I try to reassure Bea this is not the case with me.
The Village Council Building
I’ve become familiar with my village. It’s a large community – I believe of 5,000 – although you can’t hold me to that number as I could be wrong. The village has a “center”. It has a Multi-Purpose Center – a place where the community comes together for meetings and events. 
The Library is on the second floor of the Multi-Purpose Center. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Library researching my village as well as the island. I’ve also spent a lot of time in the Multi-Purpose Building which houses large amounts of mosquitoes. 
Next to the center is the Village Council Building and next to that is the Credit Union and Post Office. The secondary and primary school are also in this area.
So, what do my weeks look like? Well, three days a week I get up at 6:00 a.m., shower, dress, and at 7:00 I catch the bus to Castries to travel to Peace Corps. I get to the training center at 8:30, hoping I’m early enough to get a few minutes on the only computer available to all fourteen of us. Training starts at 9 a.m. and goes until 4:30 p.m. We are trained in several areas: Technical, Health, Safety, and Language. We have to demonstrate competence in each of these areas. Technical was most interesting. It is centered on change and how to move organizations to change – a subject I know well. Safety can be anything from advice when walking on the street to water safety and what to do in an emergency. Health is anything from how to treat first aid situations to what’s in that medical kit they gave us to how to brush your teeth (yes, I’m not kidding – and not sure why this needed to be demonstrated, but we all smiled and were polite). Language – well, it’s Kweyol. I struggle, but I won’t give up. At the very least I will learn a few phrases. I think it’s harder to learn because everyone speaks English and I don’t get enough practice. Kweyol will help with integration, but it’s not critical.
We are tested in many ways to ensure our competence. Today the technical track was complete and we each had to give a twenty minute presentation on our analysis of the organizations we are going to be working with as well as the strategies we will employ to begin our work. A few weeks ago we had to find our way to our “safe house”. This is the place where we consolidate in case of an emergency. This was a real test for me. There are no street signs, no house addresses…nothing. The directions go something like this: Get on the bus and go north. You will be going to a house two villages from yours. You will get off when you see a church. There will be a dirt road and you follow it until you see a blue house. REALLY? Yes, really. And, ta da! I found it. I only had to ask four people for directions. I was so relieved.
Each of us is assigned to a school in our village and one day a week we go there. There is little structure associated with the visits and it’s up to us to figure out how to be “helpful”. This has been the most difficult assignment. I try to do something meaningful but I’m not always sure I’m accomplishing anything. I attend committee meetings that are planning a talent show on the Sunday before Jounen Kreywol (translation Creole Days and I’ll talk more about this in another post). I’ve taught a couple of classes and observed a few.
Each Thursday we are assigned to shadow a someone in the community. This is by far one of the best parts of training. I’ve met so many incredible people and they have taught me much about life in Saint Lucia. Tomorrow, I will be meeting with the Community Development Officer for my village. She has an office at the one-story blue Village Council Building. This is the second time I’ve been assigned to her. I believe she and I will have a great working relationship during my two year stay.
When I get home at night, many times I hear of meetings that are planned. Most are held at the Multi-Purpose Center and they are on various subjects; Village Development Foundation meetings, planning committee for Jounen Kreywol or a public hearing informing the village members about a proposal to create a public/private partnership with a European company to improve the Saint Lucia water supply. The water lines are in terrible shape. Only 40% of the water that runs through the pipes reaches the faucet. The rest is lost to the cracks and leaks prevalent throughout the water pipe system. There are so many vulnerable pipes that when it rains it’s likely a pipe will break and the village will be without water for a day or sometimes two. I will leave the color of the water that reaches inside the house to your imagination. I don’t drink it. Although most of it has been removed, there is still some asbestos in the pipes. There is a lot of education to be done to try to convince people to fix this system. The discussion is price vs. quality. I try to attend as many functions as I can to meet as many people as I can. One thing is a sure thing – I’m not lacking for something to do!
This is how I will continue to spend my days until October 19, when everything changes once again. That’s the day we move from our host family and into our own place. On October 21, we will be sworn-in and then our real work begins. This will be our next big transition as we will have much less contact with one another and will fully integrate into our individual village communities. There is only one other volunteer in my village and he will be leaving later this year. Most importantly is that this will be the last time we have to move those damn suitcases until we leave the island in two years!
There is extensive training associated with becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer. It started with staging in Miami in late August. Our group, known as EC78 (Eastern Caribbean 78), had a twelve hour orientation before we departed for Saint Lucia. There are 38 of us in the group. We filled out mounds of paperwork, decided if we wanted to buy life insurance, got to know one another and talked about Peace Corps in general. After a day and a half we took a bus to the airport and boarded a plane headed for Saint Lucia.
Our plane landed and the Country Director was there to meet us along with other staff and current Peace Corps Volunteers. We collected mounds of suitcases, were loaded into large busses and were transported to the Pastoral Center in the northern part of the island. Once there, we settled in for three more days of orientation, this time more specific to the Eastern Caribbean. We had our pictures taken for our identification cards, were given inoculations and just as we were comfortable, it was once again time to move on.
This was the last time we saw most of our group – and will be the last time we see each other as a whole until close of service in 2010. I stayed in Saint Lucia with thirteen others. The rest were transported to their islands of assignment. Our group was taken to the Peace Corps Office in Saint Lucia. We brought our suitcases into the office which filled an entire room. By now we were sick of all that luggage! It was very tempting to start throwing it over the cliffs but we resisted. We were taken to the training room in the back of the office and each of us waited to meet our host family. One by one, host families came for their volunteers, the luggage dissipating and fear and anticipation growing. Finally, mine came. They piled my stuff into their family pickup truck and brought me to the village where I would be living for two years, and to their house where I would be staying for seven weeks.
Peace Corps arranges for us to stay with a host family for a couple of reasons. First, they help us integrate into the community. Second, during training there is a lot to learn, there is homework and presentations that need to be prepared. While we study, learn about our communities, figure out how to get around, and become acclimated to the new environment, our host family takes care of us. They not only give us a place to stay, but help us with language, prepare our meals and pack meals to go with us and answer our endless questions. They feel a sense of responsibility for us.
Many of us, including me, are grilled each day about what we eat. They serve me so much food and look at me quizzically when I suggest it is way too much. Tonight I was given chicken, beans, macaroni and cheese and vegetables for dinner. I ate none of it and instead suggested that we pack it up and I will take it with me for lunch tomorrow. I always have a back-up of food in the refrigerator to eat. The notion of eating several small meals is a foreign concept in Saint Lucia. Bea looked at me tonight and repeated the same concern she has every night, “I’m worried about you not eating.” I gave her my usual response, “I’m getting plenty of calories. Please don’t worry. If I’m hungry, I’ll tell you.” I’ve heard that there have been volunteers who have said they didn’t get enough food and Peace Corps was not happy about that. I try to reassure Bea this is not the case with me.
The Village Council Building
I’ve become familiar with my village. It’s a large community – I believe of 5,000 – although you can’t hold me to that number as I could be wrong. The village has a “center”. It has a Multi-Purpose Center – a place where the community comes together for meetings and events. 
The Library is on the second floor of the Multi-Purpose Center. I’ve spent a lot of time in the Library researching my village as well as the island. I’ve also spent a lot of time in the Multi-Purpose Building which houses large amounts of mosquitoes. 
Next to the center is the Village Council Building and next to that is the Credit Union and Post Office. The secondary and primary school are also in this area.So, what do my weeks look like? Well, three days a week I get up at 6:00 a.m., shower, dress, and at 7:00 I catch the bus to Castries to travel to Peace Corps. I get to the training center at 8:30, hoping I’m early enough to get a few minutes on the only computer available to all fourteen of us. Training starts at 9 a.m. and goes until 4:30 p.m. We are trained in several areas: Technical, Health, Safety, and Language. We have to demonstrate competence in each of these areas. Technical was most interesting. It is centered on change and how to move organizations to change – a subject I know well. Safety can be anything from advice when walking on the street to water safety and what to do in an emergency. Health is anything from how to treat first aid situations to what’s in that medical kit they gave us to how to brush your teeth (yes, I’m not kidding – and not sure why this needed to be demonstrated, but we all smiled and were polite). Language – well, it’s Kweyol. I struggle, but I won’t give up. At the very least I will learn a few phrases. I think it’s harder to learn because everyone speaks English and I don’t get enough practice. Kweyol will help with integration, but it’s not critical.
We are tested in many ways to ensure our competence. Today the technical track was complete and we each had to give a twenty minute presentation on our analysis of the organizations we are going to be working with as well as the strategies we will employ to begin our work. A few weeks ago we had to find our way to our “safe house”. This is the place where we consolidate in case of an emergency. This was a real test for me. There are no street signs, no house addresses…nothing. The directions go something like this: Get on the bus and go north. You will be going to a house two villages from yours. You will get off when you see a church. There will be a dirt road and you follow it until you see a blue house. REALLY? Yes, really. And, ta da! I found it. I only had to ask four people for directions. I was so relieved.
Each of us is assigned to a school in our village and one day a week we go there. There is little structure associated with the visits and it’s up to us to figure out how to be “helpful”. This has been the most difficult assignment. I try to do something meaningful but I’m not always sure I’m accomplishing anything. I attend committee meetings that are planning a talent show on the Sunday before Jounen Kreywol (translation Creole Days and I’ll talk more about this in another post). I’ve taught a couple of classes and observed a few.
Each Thursday we are assigned to shadow a someone in the community. This is by far one of the best parts of training. I’ve met so many incredible people and they have taught me much about life in Saint Lucia. Tomorrow, I will be meeting with the Community Development Officer for my village. She has an office at the one-story blue Village Council Building. This is the second time I’ve been assigned to her. I believe she and I will have a great working relationship during my two year stay.
When I get home at night, many times I hear of meetings that are planned. Most are held at the Multi-Purpose Center and they are on various subjects; Village Development Foundation meetings, planning committee for Jounen Kreywol or a public hearing informing the village members about a proposal to create a public/private partnership with a European company to improve the Saint Lucia water supply. The water lines are in terrible shape. Only 40% of the water that runs through the pipes reaches the faucet. The rest is lost to the cracks and leaks prevalent throughout the water pipe system. There are so many vulnerable pipes that when it rains it’s likely a pipe will break and the village will be without water for a day or sometimes two. I will leave the color of the water that reaches inside the house to your imagination. I don’t drink it. Although most of it has been removed, there is still some asbestos in the pipes. There is a lot of education to be done to try to convince people to fix this system. The discussion is price vs. quality. I try to attend as many functions as I can to meet as many people as I can. One thing is a sure thing – I’m not lacking for something to do!
This is how I will continue to spend my days until October 19, when everything changes once again. That’s the day we move from our host family and into our own place. On October 21, we will be sworn-in and then our real work begins. This will be our next big transition as we will have much less contact with one another and will fully integrate into our individual village communities. There is only one other volunteer in my village and he will be leaving later this year. Most importantly is that this will be the last time we have to move those damn suitcases until we leave the island in two years!
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Houses on Stilts
I was sure homes were built on stilts because of flooding - or that it had something to do with hurricaines. I was wrong and very surprised at the answer. The answer is "money". Houses are built on stilts because people don't have the money to build the "whole" house. They build pieces of their homes over the years and it's usually the top floor that is built first. The house I'm living in was built on stilts. A few years later they added walls and created an apartment downstairs. Even later they built another building to the front and to the side of their home which is now an apartment upstairs and a pizza shop downstairs.
Friday, October 3, 2008
Next Quiz
It is not uncommon to see homes on stilts. They are everywhere - on high ground and low ground. Why do you think they build them this way?
A Very Exciting Day!
It’s raining and I’m up at 6:00 a.m. I don’t have to be anywhere until 2:00 today but this is a very exciting morning. It’s different that any morning since arriving on the island. Somewhere in this blog I mentioned that no one in Saint Lucia drinks coffee – or at least, no one I’ve met. My host family kindly bought me a jar of Nescafe which I’ve been drinking. On a typical morning, I am served a breakfast of salad and bread, or vegetables and stuffed potatoes, or salad and hot canned tuna to go along with my hot drink.
As I write this piece I ask Neena, the 24-year old daughter in my host family, if she has heard of Starbucks. She replies, “What?” She’s confused. The word means nothing to her. There is not one single Starbucks on this island! I begin to wonder, where do people meet when they want to have a quick meeting? Where is the “Nescafe” Starbucks of Saint Lucia? Starbucks aim is to become the “third place” for its customers – the other two being home and work. Is there a “third place” for Saint Lucians? There is none.
This morning is different. Since writing that piece in my blog, I’ve received a press and three pounds of Starbucks Coffee. One pound of coffee came before the press. I quickly learned how to improvise, nearly burning myself and gulping large mouthfuls of grounds…not exactly “good to the last drop” but I was learning the art of chewing my caffeine. Yesterday, I received an additional two pounds of coffee and the press when I was in Castries. I also received eight of my very favorite Balance Bars.
I could feel the softness of the nutrition bars through the wrapper. I carefully took them from the boxes and gently packed them into an extra bag I brought to the capitol that morning. It felt like Christmas and I had just scored the most extraordinary gift ever! I left the capitol and boarded a bus for the hour and a half ride back to my village, all the while smelling the aroma from the bags of coffee sitting on my lap. When I arrived home I unpacked the booty, set it on the kitchen table and contemplated the aroma along with the taste of my crispy soy based nutrition bars. I almost couldn’t wait until this morning, but knew I had to wait as the penalty would be insomnia. I put one of the nutrition bars into the refrigerator so they wouldn’t be melted in the morning. The others, I carefully stored in my room.
So, at 6:00 a.m., with nowhere to go, I shot out of bed, pushing the mosquito net aside, making my way to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Oh, yes! I sat on the front porch, nutrition bar in one hand and coffee in the other, saying “Bonjour” to those that passed by. I thought about what this would be like at home. Not much different. I’d be on my front porch, coffee in one hand, nutrition bar in the other saying “good morning” to those that pass by.
I sat there until early afternoon when I hopped on a bus and met another volunteer from a nearby village. Andy has been here for over a year. We walked up the steep hills of his village greeting the men and women and with each few yards we inherited another child who would follow us – it was very much like we were the pied-pipers of the village. Every few minutes someone would ask, “Is that your girlfriend?” Or, “Is that your mother?” which was far more appropriate as Andy is only 24 years old. The views in the village were breathtaking, and although the walk was intense because of the heat and the steepness of the terrain, it was well worth the effort. We stopped to buy a “bake” and a “bakery” – a sandwich and a pastry. We stopped at his house and talked for a short time. We headed to a meeting.
We walked into the day care center and started setting up chairs and clearing off the table for the meeting. I was first introduced to an older woman with no front teeth. It is through her effort that this day care center exists. Although I was just an observer they wanted to know who I am, where did I come from, what are my accomplishments, and most importantly, how do I like Saint Lucia. No matter who it is, they always smile when I tell them, “I got the best country.”
The meeting began and Andy was asked to lead us in prayer. Almost every meeting I’ve attended is opened with a prayer. Andy handled it so well. I wondered if I would ever be able to do something that is counter to whom I am and look as comfortable as Andy.
I’ll worry about that later. Right now I’m going to go and clean out my coffee press, put another nutrition bar into the refrigerator and get ready for tomorrow morning!
As I write this piece I ask Neena, the 24-year old daughter in my host family, if she has heard of Starbucks. She replies, “What?” She’s confused. The word means nothing to her. There is not one single Starbucks on this island! I begin to wonder, where do people meet when they want to have a quick meeting? Where is the “Nescafe” Starbucks of Saint Lucia? Starbucks aim is to become the “third place” for its customers – the other two being home and work. Is there a “third place” for Saint Lucians? There is none.
This morning is different. Since writing that piece in my blog, I’ve received a press and three pounds of Starbucks Coffee. One pound of coffee came before the press. I quickly learned how to improvise, nearly burning myself and gulping large mouthfuls of grounds…not exactly “good to the last drop” but I was learning the art of chewing my caffeine. Yesterday, I received an additional two pounds of coffee and the press when I was in Castries. I also received eight of my very favorite Balance Bars.
I could feel the softness of the nutrition bars through the wrapper. I carefully took them from the boxes and gently packed them into an extra bag I brought to the capitol that morning. It felt like Christmas and I had just scored the most extraordinary gift ever! I left the capitol and boarded a bus for the hour and a half ride back to my village, all the while smelling the aroma from the bags of coffee sitting on my lap. When I arrived home I unpacked the booty, set it on the kitchen table and contemplated the aroma along with the taste of my crispy soy based nutrition bars. I almost couldn’t wait until this morning, but knew I had to wait as the penalty would be insomnia. I put one of the nutrition bars into the refrigerator so they wouldn’t be melted in the morning. The others, I carefully stored in my room.
So, at 6:00 a.m., with nowhere to go, I shot out of bed, pushing the mosquito net aside, making my way to the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. Oh, yes! I sat on the front porch, nutrition bar in one hand and coffee in the other, saying “Bonjour” to those that passed by. I thought about what this would be like at home. Not much different. I’d be on my front porch, coffee in one hand, nutrition bar in the other saying “good morning” to those that pass by.
I sat there until early afternoon when I hopped on a bus and met another volunteer from a nearby village. Andy has been here for over a year. We walked up the steep hills of his village greeting the men and women and with each few yards we inherited another child who would follow us – it was very much like we were the pied-pipers of the village. Every few minutes someone would ask, “Is that your girlfriend?” Or, “Is that your mother?” which was far more appropriate as Andy is only 24 years old. The views in the village were breathtaking, and although the walk was intense because of the heat and the steepness of the terrain, it was well worth the effort. We stopped to buy a “bake” and a “bakery” – a sandwich and a pastry. We stopped at his house and talked for a short time. We headed to a meeting.
We walked into the day care center and started setting up chairs and clearing off the table for the meeting. I was first introduced to an older woman with no front teeth. It is through her effort that this day care center exists. Although I was just an observer they wanted to know who I am, where did I come from, what are my accomplishments, and most importantly, how do I like Saint Lucia. No matter who it is, they always smile when I tell them, “I got the best country.”The meeting began and Andy was asked to lead us in prayer. Almost every meeting I’ve attended is opened with a prayer. Andy handled it so well. I wondered if I would ever be able to do something that is counter to whom I am and look as comfortable as Andy.
I’ll worry about that later. Right now I’m going to go and clean out my coffee press, put another nutrition bar into the refrigerator and get ready for tomorrow morning!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)