What a Difference a Day Makes!

I’m here – my own place! But, the frustrations of settling in are high. I have a small two bedroom upstairs apartment. Each bedroom has its own bathroom (with a urinal as well as a toilet!) The kitchen is large. The landlady, Elizabeth, has furnished the house with everything I could possibly need. I have an electric tea kettle, a toaster, all the pots and pans, silverware, and knives I could possibly need. She even bought a bottle of water and put it in the new refrigerator she purchased for the apartment. I have towels and sheets and a television with cable. I have a red sofa and two chairs (my favorite color). She even left a boombox and a pothos plant in the living room. I have a dining table too. The apartment has two balconies – one in the back outside the kitchen door and one off the living room. There is a view of the Atlantic Ocean from both bedroom windows.

There is a washing machine and spinner on the kitchen balcony. No one has dryers here. Washers are operated manually. In other words, I put the soap and clothes in the machine, turn on the water and monitor the water level. When it’s full enough I turn off the water and put it on a timed agitate. Then I go through a similar process to rinse the clothes. Finally, I put the clothes in the spinner to get the majority of water out before I hang them on a clothes line. I’m lucky to have this machine. The apartment is clean and I am extremely comfortable here. I appreciate having a nice place to live in. Not all of the volunteers are feeling this way.

I’m curious about the neighborhoods in which people live. Rich, middle income and poor all live on the same streets. George Foreman owns a home in the next village and it’s mixed in with everyone else in the village. I look directly across the street and see shacks and wonder how the poor possibly manage. There are public toilets and showers in the village. When I look at the homes across the street I’m reminded of the reason I’m here. My job is to work with the Village Development Foundation which focuses on health and wellness, job skills, poverty, and education. The people across the street are those that need to directly benefit from this foundation.

I went to Castries today (Monday) to finish my last day of training. I had my language assessment and passed. Actually, I think they fixed it so everyone passed. I suck. They told us today that if anyone needed a tutor, Peace Corps will pay for it. I am going to take them up on their offer. Wednesday we have our swearing-in ceremony and then we are off to do the jobs we were brought here to do. I completed my application for Peace Corps in the Spring of 2007 and it’s taken this long to get to where I am. The entire EC78 group will swear-in. No one went home early. This is highly unusual. It’s all very exciting.

After training today, I spent a few minutes updating my blog and sending a couple of emails, then rushed out the door. I went to the grocery store and bought some fruit, cheese, and bread. Then I was in search of the Cable and Wireless store to order an internet line. Everything is so hard. It was so frustrating and I was in tears. Bernard, the man helping me looked at me with deep concern. He excused himself and was gone a few minutes. He returned with tissue and said “I can’t stand to see a woman cry”. He explained what information I needed to get and bring back. He said to make sure I see him and he will expedite the whole process. I felt silly becoming so emotional over such a small thing, but small things touch my emotions . . . I can handle bigger things a lot easier. Even finding things isn’t difficult for me – even though I’m perpetually lost. I guess because I expect to get lost. I don’t expect things, like ordering internet, to become projects.

I spoke with my landlady tonight and she gave me the information I need. Her husband, John, said anytime I want to use the internet I can use their computer. They are so nice. Tomorrow I will trek back up to Castries, ask to speak to Bernard and see if he can expedite the process.

I left Cable and Wireless and stopped in a couple of stores looking for tacks. I only need four and I know they have them on this island. Simple things I took for granted in Torrance, become projects. If I were in Torrance, I’d go to Rite-Aid and get them. Finding Diet Coke is no different. It’s called Coke Lite here and I’m sure no one drinks it except Peace Corps Volunteers. Saint Lucian’s love their sugar. I thought I’d buy a couple of bottles on the way home – simple, huh? Not so. I went to three stores, including the biggest supermarket. Later, when I returned home, I made a pitcher of iced tea.

I went into a store that I thought might have tacks. It is a store like Rite-Aid. They sell prescriptions, alcohol, umbrellas, wrapping paper, and there is a whole section with notebooks, pencils, pens, and paper. I was sure there would be tacks there, but there were none. Oh well, this gives me a reason to get up tomorrow morning!

Here’s the bottom line. I’m so fortunate to have Peace Corps structure to integrate into Saint Lucian life. They provide us with training that includes how to open a bank account, what to do in case of emergency, how to ride the bus, the culture, and language. They find housing for us that is safe to live in. They have an extensive plan for emergency evacuations. They are there for support when we need it. We are given enough money to live on. All this and it’s still hard to be dropped into a foreign land. I can’t imagine what it must be like when people illegally cross the border leaving behind families living in poverty in shacks like the ones I see across the street. They risk their lives traveling to the United States and when they get there, they do everything on their own with little resources and an inability to understand the language. This thought makes it easier for me when it gets harder. When sit on the balcony and look at my neighborhood I’m embarrassed that issues like the internet, tacks, and Diet Coke upset me. It’s really a good learning process.