Cauntays, Keeping Island Time: January 2013

Thursday, 31 January 2013

At the end of the first week we moved to Sugar Hill, a gated community on the west coast of Barbados. From there, we visited St. Nicholas Abbey, a sugar plantation currently owned by a local architect, who has restored and maintained the property. The plantation still processes sugar for molasses and rum, which we tasted on our tour (8 year-old dark rum, rich and mellow, and newly distilled white rum, sharp and astringent). We watched a film made in the 1920’s by the son of the original plantation owner that showed scenes from his crossing from England, and of daily life in Barbados and on the plantation: Bajan women and girls in their white dresses and hats; workers cutting, bundling, and loading sugar cane into horse-drawn carts; a boy waiting to catch a ride on the windmill; men firing and assembling rims onto wooden wheels for carts; a Bajan man lurching down the street after too much rum. Lastly, we visited the mill and watched men feeding canes between its crushing wheels, the beigey-green juice dripping down into the grate of a tank for refining. (In Grenada, we had bought a cup of cane juice of the same color from a vendor with a barrel-sized stainless-steel cane juicer.) I remarked to Justin on the drive home how much more interesting historical places and stories become as I get older. As a kid, I had always wondered how my parents could find such boring things fascinating.

“The more of a relic you become, the more interested you are in other relics,” Justin observed.

Among other phrases Toby has learned on this trip – including, “don’t do sam-sing inchledibly styu-pid,” which we repeated often to one another after our German landlord on the south coast said it, warning us not to leave the house unlocked; and “shine like a diamond,” as Rihanna is big in these parts – it was during our last week in Barbados that she learned, “We’re here to rob the Coco House,” which we would joke amongst ourselves as we pulled up to the guard’s booth at Sugar Hill, and which Toby repeated often to our housekeeper, creating some confusion and discomfort.

Monday, 28 January 2013

Current Events: Barbados, Southside

Out and About in Bequia

Toby and Hannah

post-snorkeling at Friendship Bay

Best Sundae Ever: Chocolate Sauce and Rum Sauce

Strolling the Belmont Walkway

Thursday, 24 January 2013

Bequia Love

Glenna, owner of Glen's

Even preschoolers wear uniforms in the Caribbean

Chocolate/Pumpkin Cake with Orange Frosting from Gingerbread Bakery

Nina can't wait until the party to give Toby her gifts

Redeeming gift coupon for manicure from her sister

SYD, I'm blond, blue-eyed, and ready to party!

Hightech Whoopie Cushion (with remote)

Gift from her friend Neil

New birthday dress; handmade in Bequia

Hope Crest is perched on a hillside overlooking the turquoise and navy mottled ocean off in the distance, framed on either side by lush vegetation. The octagonal house was designed and built to survive a hurricane by Neil and his mechanical engineer daughter. The wraparound porch was my favorite place to write, read, eat and do yoga, with the wind rushing through.

Bequia seemed the perfect balance (as our guide book said) of development and relaxed island vibe. In town, tourists speaking French, Italian, German, Danish, and English wandered amongst the locals. Charming restaurants line the main street and the Belmont Walkway, a sidewalk that wraps around the shores of the harbor. The fruit stands offer a bounty of fresh local mangoes, papayas, pumpkin, cucumbers, tomatoes, mint, basil, sorrel (hibiscus), which I brewed to make tea, and callalou, which we sautéed like spinach in olive oil and garlic (the only leafy green Nina has ever liked!). Neil brought us fresh fish from the fishermen in the harbor, who blow a conchshell to signal that their catch is in. We all fell quickly in love with the place, and Toby, who has been delighted by every place we’ve visited, fell in love with Neil just as quickly.

We celebrated Toby’s birthday with presents wrapped in pages from magazines (including a battery operated fart machine from town), balloons, and a cake from the Gingerbread bakery (which also had great ice cream). Neil stopped by to give her a coconut husk sailboat.

We ran into Neil (or saw his scooter) most places we went, including the restaurant where a steel band performs every Thursday. Neil danced with me, but mostly Toby, on the sand dance floor in front of the stage. When I stepped in to join the two during one number, Toby pushed me away jealously. The drummers were fascinating to watch, the way they created such complex music (i.e., “Sexual Healing,” “Private Dancer,” and “I Was Made to Love Her”) on such simple instruments, one drummer swaying his whole body extravagantly as he played.

Toby spent several mornings at Glen’s Preschool in Bequia, where she was thrilled to find shelves laden with toys and came home singing about “chee-sus.” Justin, Nina and I went to Friendship Bay to snorkel with fish of all shapes, sizes and colors, along the reef studded with urchin. I’m partial to box fish, who are more triangular than boxy in shape, some as small as my fist, others as big as a toaster, whose pronounced lips twitch while they nibble on the coral.

The ease with which Toby has made friends on the trip is deeply gratifying. One morning, she spotted some arriving children about fifty feet down the beach and ran over without hesitation to play. From a distance, I watched her guffawing over the sand pile she and her new friend had created.

It’s been harder for Nina, who misses the comforting familiarities of home and her classmates from Summerfield in particular. Once, in a particularly exhilarating moment we shared while swimming out far from the beach (the turquoise depths, the brilliant sunshine!), she shouted, “I just wish my whole class was here right now!”