High Tea and Village Company

The cookies are freshly baked; White Chocolate Cranberry Nut Chews. (I am sure this first sentence will summon a blog comment from at least one of my sons.) The cookies are packed in two small plastic ice cream containers which I placed into my red back pack. I splurged on these cookies by using a half bag of the white chips I brought back from the states. Although chocolate chips can be found for a king’s ransom, to my knowledge, white chips cannot be found on this island. I will bring two dozen cookies and spend ten dollars on canned goods. The canned goods will be used to fill hampers for needy families during the holiday season. I pick up my invitation and backpack and head out the door.


It’s Sunday and I am surprised that I pick up a bus within just a few minutes after arriving on the highway. I’m headed to a small neighboring village. I’m secretly proud of myself because I have never been to Marylene’s house, but I know I will find it. I smile as I think about how I would have panicked a year ago at the very thought of making my way to an unknown destination. My smile becomes even broader as I think about the difference…there are no street names or house addresses here on the island. Possible twists and counted turns are described with an occasional landmark sprinkled in the mix. This was my biggest nightmare a year ago and now it’s just a small detail in everyday life. I will look for a yellow house with stairs leading up to her home. How hard can that be?


Within ten minutes I am walking on the road headed to experience high tea with a few women in the village. I look forward to walking on this road because it is lush with green foliage on either side. As I walk, I see a shirtless man wearing torn shorts and riding a bicycle. He is clutching a half empty bottle of rum with one hand while steering with the other. Just another day in paradise. We exchange pleasantries and I continue on. As I reach the top of the road Brenda approaches. I look up and sure enough there is the yellow house with the stairs leading to Marylene’s home.


Since I’m interested in Saint Lucian history, people have told me for the past year that I should visit this place – home and part museum. We walk in and I’m immediately overwhelmed with what I see. The home is arranged in a mazelike fashion. There are long tables pushed up against the backs of three large sofas which outline the living room. One must walk around the maze to gain entrance to a seat on the sofa. My eyes are fixed on pottery, pictures, old typewriters, crowns and dolls. There are paintings and artwork on the walls. A mock up of a Carib house sits in the corner. A huge pot is filled with dried foliage nearly touching the ceiling. A likeness of Sir John Compton, the Father of Saint Lucia, hangs prominently. There are small children’s handmade chairs with old purses and other trinkets sitting on them. This is just the first 10 feet from the entrance.


Turning the corner reveals more. New and old stuffed into every crevice and corner of the home. Barack Obama has a corner of his own, pictures and prayers for his success. There is an old sewing machine and Brenda says, “we used to have one like that. It’s run by turning the crank”. I respond, “someday I want to come back and have an official tour so I can hear all the stories”. There are old photograph albums sitting by the television. I’d like to pick them up and go through them, but I feel that might be intrusive, so I resist. We move to the dining area and there is so much china displayed that I’m sorry I don’t know more about this subject.


We sit down at Marylene’s dining room table which is filled with antique fine china and crystal dishes containing homemade carrot cake, assorted cookies and spinach croissants. The table is set with care. I’m handed a china plate and a silver hors d’oeurvres fork. Brenda pours hot water into each tea cup and swirls the water to heat the cup. That water is discarded and fresh hot water is poured into each cup. A basket of tea choices is passed around the table.

Marylene serves handmade vegetarian foods with a little fish, all of which she proclaims as low fat and nutritious. The food is artistically arranged on shells and then placed on the fine china. Like dining in a fine restaurant, the portions are small and delicately balanced with presentation. This is not just about food, but about the love that went into preparing the food for friends.


I take the cookies from my backpack which are packed in reused plastic ice cream containers and set them on the table. I study them carefully. One says Ferrands Vanilla and the other is Ferrands Cherry Vanilla. I suppose I could have put more thought into the selection of my travel container, after all this is High Tea.


As we talk two more women come in and join in on our discussion. Our topic: How do we organize a group of women to network and learn from each other? Stories about life are told. Each woman is a leader in the community and shares events that led them to where they are today. I enjoyed the richness of the discussion. In many ways I found there is little difference between us. We all have similar struggles. Everyone present had life’s lemons thrown at them and each added sugar making sweet lemonade. The question we couldn’t quite answer is this: Why do some women add sugar to their lemons and others don’t. Why do some women gain strength from tough moments while others give up and become weak?


Marylene is a strong young woman who is independent and a leader in the village. She has national recognition and is a Saint Lucia treasure. She is humble and I would not know these things except others have told me bits and pieces about her over the months I’ve been here. She is the woman who performed last Sunday at the Children’s After School Kick-Off Program. She is a mother, musician, caterer, artist and Jill of all trades.


After three hours it is time to leave. I reflect on the afternoon. I love being included in the community, but I panic. I am thinking – OMG, I am going to have to host one of these tea’s and I have NO idea how to make food like this! I bake cookies in my toaster oven because I don’t know how to turn on the propane gas which is stored in the tank next to my stove. I have no fine china or crystal vases to arrange artistic petit fours even if I did figure out how to make them. I’m not even sure if I spelled petit fours properly. I don’t have tea cups – only big mugs with things that have sayings like “Florida, the Sunshine State” printed on them. I need to get some culture! I need to find some sugar to add to these lemons! By the way, I confess I had to look up the spelling for hors d’oeurvres as well as petit fores. Please someone; give me some cooking lessons quick!