Damn the rain. And wind.
It's hurricane season here in the Caribbean. Judging by the weather our first two weeks, one would be hard pressed to know it was "hurricane season". We had blue skies, warm weather and lots of sun. But of course... now the rain has been pretty much continuous since last Thursday.
In that context, today I decided that I'd do a little extra rehearsing from 8-10. Normally I would have been in bed (for lack of anywhere else to sit) by that time. But of course, when I get out of rehearsal it's raining cats and dogs. The gate to Belaire Health and Fitness Club, where I stay with the kids, is locked. My key doesn't open said lock.
I was completely soaked from my head to my bare feet by the time I gave up trying to open the gate. SO what then do I do?
Why I climb the gate. Bare foot. Well... I climb the fence next to the gate. The fence leads to the field next to the club. then I climb the fence back to the Belaire side on the other side of the gate. (They really should reconsider that whole gate thing; because if I can do it in the rain it would be quite easy for anyone intent on entering when it's not raining.) But I digress.
After I climb the fence into the mud. Then climb back over into more mud. I wade through the small river that is the parking lot. It's rushing down hill as I try to run up. My sweat pants are heavy with water and falling off. My hair is dripping water in my eyes. I'm struggling with my clothes and bag as I try to run. And there's some weird keening/ beeping noise that was creepy and just made me run and struggle faster. I was thoroughly drenched by the time I jerked the misfitting door to our apartment open. Exhibit A
It could have been fun...were all that wetness intentional. I suggest the next summer storm, you go out and "feel the rain on your skin." I can't feel it for you.
And the rest is still UNwritten.
My Body is a Piece of Art
photo by Jaqi Medlock
July 20, 2010
July 18, 2010
We're Still Waiting
This is a little bit behind- a backlog, if you will- of occurrences since I left the continental United States two weeks ago. I came with Creative Outlet Dance Theater to Dutch St. Maarten for a 3 week summer intensive.
"We're Still Waiting" pretty much accurately describes how things go here on the islands. For a bunch of born and bred City dwellers as we are (okay I'm not born or bred, but I definitely qualify as City) that "waiting" bit took some getting used to.
Life on the island moves SLOW!!! It seems like no one has anywhere to be until they get there. The only thing that moves reasonable fast is the driving. For people who don't have anywhere to be there sure do drive like they do. I've seen all of maybe 2 street lights on this island. Some other intersections have roundabouts. Most have nothing at all. Which encourages mildly frightening (to say the least) driving practices.
Now imagine, you're on a bus, amidst the mildly frightening driving practices. Going up and down and swirling round and round the hills of this 37 sq. foot island. Where anything (goats, geese, dogs, cats, cocks - yes I did just say "cocks" instead of rooster- etc.) can jump into the unpredictable flow of traffic. We're on an island tour, courtesy of a St. Maarten native, who has her own personal touring entourage at her disposable --Everything was free, which is the best price.
The Tour:
This island tour took us 5 and a half hours. But don't worry, because 4 of those hours were spent on a nude beach and a market on the French side of the island. Apparently the currency of St. Maarten used to be salt. Yeah. I know. "I'll take a Johnny cake, and a croissant, thanks." "Sure that'll be a half pound of salt." ORRRR "I'll take a Johnny cake and a croissant, thanks." "No way mon. You're not worth your salt." The plantation homes. When you think plantation homes I think those huge antebellum affairs of the south. With wraparound porches and what not. Not here. Their plantation homes were about the size of a barn on a southern plantation. Surrounded by a ton of land. And absolutely nothing else.
Our tour guide pointed out a lovely flower to us "the Pride of Barbados" Aptly named because it is in fact the Pride of Barbados.... Who knew?
The French Side:
Is a whole five square miles larger than the Dutch side. They use Euros which the exchange rate is like double the currency on the Dutch side. They have a bay with a ferry that goes to the island Anguilla and nude beaches!!! You can't gamble on the French side. I think there are at least 5 casinos on the Dutch side. The only gambling allowed on the French side? Wait for it.... cock fighting. yes. yes, indeed.
The Market:
We pulled up into this little downtown type area. There was a mall. Some restaurants. And a flea market. And a man selling coconut water. The real kind. From the actual coconuts. The market was unfortunately lacking. I didn't spend much time there because let's be real: if you've seen one Caribbean flea market you've seen them all. And once you've seen one stand, in that one market, you literally have a fairly neat grasp on everything else for sale. How many tropical dresses/jewelry does one really need? Instead of shopping I spent the hour before noon drinking.
The Beach:
Nude. Enough said. There's something particularly liberating about laying out topless. It's quite relaxing. You should try it. I spent 28 dollars on lunch at the beach. Twenty. Eight. Dollars. For Mahi-Mahi. And Rum. Okay, so Rum makes everything better but still. That lunch was over the top for me.
The Kid.
The best part of the tour by far (aside from sleeping naked on the beach) was 5-year-old Soleil Gaines. Son of Jamel Gaines, artistic director and Bahiyah Sayyed-Gaines. Cutest kid. Smart. Funny. He's adorable. You know how I normally don't like children, and dealing with them is, in my mind, the best birth control ever, but he makes me want to have a kid. NOT NOW! But you know some day... I want my kid to be that smart. and cute. and funny. I want people to love my kid like we love Soleil. He's such an engaging child. Because after the tour he demanded (yes, demanded) that we go to the movies with him. And we did.
It was a lovely Saturday, after that first week from hell. Stay tuned for more adventures and misadventures from the beautiful Island of St. Maarten as the rest is still UNwritten...
"We're Still Waiting" pretty much accurately describes how things go here on the islands. For a bunch of born and bred City dwellers as we are (okay I'm not born or bred, but I definitely qualify as City) that "waiting" bit took some getting used to.
Life on the island moves SLOW!!! It seems like no one has anywhere to be until they get there. The only thing that moves reasonable fast is the driving. For people who don't have anywhere to be there sure do drive like they do. I've seen all of maybe 2 street lights on this island. Some other intersections have roundabouts. Most have nothing at all. Which encourages mildly frightening (to say the least) driving practices.
Now imagine, you're on a bus, amidst the mildly frightening driving practices. Going up and down and swirling round and round the hills of this 37 sq. foot island. Where anything (goats, geese, dogs, cats, cocks - yes I did just say "cocks" instead of rooster- etc.) can jump into the unpredictable flow of traffic. We're on an island tour, courtesy of a St. Maarten native, who has her own personal touring entourage at her disposable --Everything was free, which is the best price.
The Tour:
This island tour took us 5 and a half hours. But don't worry, because 4 of those hours were spent on a nude beach and a market on the French side of the island. Apparently the currency of St. Maarten used to be salt. Yeah. I know. "I'll take a Johnny cake, and a croissant, thanks." "Sure that'll be a half pound of salt." ORRRR "I'll take a Johnny cake and a croissant, thanks." "No way mon. You're not worth your salt." The plantation homes. When you think plantation homes I think those huge antebellum affairs of the south. With wraparound porches and what not. Not here. Their plantation homes were about the size of a barn on a southern plantation. Surrounded by a ton of land. And absolutely nothing else.
Our tour guide pointed out a lovely flower to us "the Pride of Barbados" Aptly named because it is in fact the Pride of Barbados.... Who knew?
The French Side:
Is a whole five square miles larger than the Dutch side. They use Euros which the exchange rate is like double the currency on the Dutch side. They have a bay with a ferry that goes to the island Anguilla and nude beaches!!! You can't gamble on the French side. I think there are at least 5 casinos on the Dutch side. The only gambling allowed on the French side? Wait for it.... cock fighting. yes. yes, indeed.
The Market:
We pulled up into this little downtown type area. There was a mall. Some restaurants. And a flea market. And a man selling coconut water. The real kind. From the actual coconuts. The market was unfortunately lacking. I didn't spend much time there because let's be real: if you've seen one Caribbean flea market you've seen them all. And once you've seen one stand, in that one market, you literally have a fairly neat grasp on everything else for sale. How many tropical dresses/jewelry does one really need? Instead of shopping I spent the hour before noon drinking.
The Beach:
Nude. Enough said. There's something particularly liberating about laying out topless. It's quite relaxing. You should try it. I spent 28 dollars on lunch at the beach. Twenty. Eight. Dollars. For Mahi-Mahi. And Rum. Okay, so Rum makes everything better but still. That lunch was over the top for me.
The Kid.
The best part of the tour by far (aside from sleeping naked on the beach) was 5-year-old Soleil Gaines. Son of Jamel Gaines, artistic director and Bahiyah Sayyed-Gaines. Cutest kid. Smart. Funny. He's adorable. You know how I normally don't like children, and dealing with them is, in my mind, the best birth control ever, but he makes me want to have a kid. NOT NOW! But you know some day... I want my kid to be that smart. and cute. and funny. I want people to love my kid like we love Soleil. He's such an engaging child. Because after the tour he demanded (yes, demanded) that we go to the movies with him. And we did.
It was a lovely Saturday, after that first week from hell. Stay tuned for more adventures and misadventures from the beautiful Island of St. Maarten as the rest is still UNwritten...
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