Week in Review - Part 1 - First Weekend

It's already been 1 week in Grenada. The days have been so packed, that it feels like much longer in a sense, but since we are all still on the high of our Peace Corps experience, it doesn't matter.

Transition

We departed from St. Lucia two Saturdays ago, officially leaving behind our other EC friends who were going to Dominica (pronounced dah-mih-NEEK-uh) and those staying in St. Lucia. Unless we visit them, we won't be reunited for a year until our mid-service training. While in the St. Lucian airport (which was next to a cemetary - eeek), I was approached by a philosophical and gentlemanly police officer who asked if I would "prefer that [he] take [my] camera" after I took a picture of my group. Confused, it took me a while to realize that I did not see the smallest sign ever created indicating that pictures were not allowed.

EC 81

After a very short layover in Barbados, we arrived in St. George's, Grenada, the capital. Miraculously, everyone got all of their luggage and we were greeted by Dr. Desmond LaTouche, our in-country boss (known as our APCD), and Marcia Baptiste, who takes care of everything. Once we walked out of the airport, EC79, the five women currently volunteering on the island, greeted us with a banner and necklaces made from nutmeg, cloves, river beads, bay leaves, and saffron (tumeric). It would be the last time I wouldd need to haul all of my luggage at once!!

The new Grenadian crew

After a picture, an air-conditioned bus ride, and a tour, we arrived at the Peace Corps office in St. George's, the capital. We were fed and spoken to about logistics and things to know for the upcoming week. My host mom, Judy, and her 6-year-old daughter came first to pick me up. They were so welcoming and sweet, I knew I was in good hands. My host mother is a special education teacher as well with roughly 20 years experience, which is a bit intimidating considering I have about 20% of that experience and yet am expected to initiate/develop programs.

Out of our group, I live the furthest from the capital. After our long ride, I met my host grandmother, who is also awesome. She can sew elaborate dresses, shirts, etc. without a pattern or even a picture. She also taught me how to gut a fish that first night - not wasting any time. Most recently, I learned how to cut cinnamon (aka "spice") from the cinnamon tree. Also, after asking if I would like to try some ginger beer (which is more like lemonade, but with ginger instead of lemons), she donned a large cutlass (machete), went outside, and harvested ginger root from the backyard. Thankfully, she worships salt so I have someone with whom to share my obsession. I love this woman.

My room - how cute! But in need of a bigger mosquito net

Integrating

The morning view from my window

The next day, I went to church with my family. Unlike the US, religion (specifically Christianity) is intimately tied to all institutions and the personal lives of the people of Grenada. There is also a small Rastafarian population on this island. I haven't been to church in longer than I care to admit lest the Catholic side of my family ever reads this. Thankfully, my host mom had the hymns and readings out for me when I needed them so I didn't look like a complete doofus. Back at home, I met Deon-ja's father and learned how to make "bakes" which look like fried biscuits and can be filled with fish or anything for that matter. My host sister then took me on a walk to 2 stores so I could meet some people and find my way around the area. On our way back, we heard a drum corps coming up the hill and saw a (random for me) brownie/girl scout parade.


We stayed out making "cakes" with sand and trying to play frisbee while the sea breeze threw it up 20+ feet in the air, far taller than me or my host sister. I, being quasi-brown and usually never using sunscreen, forgot to put some on and turned a hilarious shade of pink around my nose and cheeks. The sun here does not play. Especially at high noon.

Local high school - with a view of course

My host sister posing with the donkey who lives in the field of the local high school

After lunch and a nap, we went to a birthday party for some of Deon-ja's friends. There were tons of kids and the adults spent their time managing their assembly line of snacks and drinks. One small girl stared at me for a while before eventually walking up to me wide-eyed and gently stroked my face and lips, presumably to see if 1) I was real, 2) that I did have skin. My host mom, Judy, got a kick out of that.

I got to speak with Judy about the state of special education in Grenada and it sounded strikingly similar to that in NYC. At the risk of making premature comparisons, it sound as if NY has more access to resources, but is still confronted with similar challenges such as the amount of trained SPED teachers, space for SPED classes, lack of vocational training for students with disabilities, etc. I'll learn more once I start my work assignments.

Being the integration machine that we are, my host family and I went to a beach called Bathway in the north of the island, where there was a reggae band and limin'. The water there is rough, as evidenced by the broken coral reef that floats in the calmer "pool" part of the ocean. Once you swim beyond the pool, you may be as good as gone according to many people here.

All in all, a productive and fun weekend!

Notes

1. There are no sidewalks in a vast majority of Grenada.
2. Chickens, donkeys, dogs, cats, goats, and sheep all roam the streets and fields where I live.
3. Grenadians don't cut birthday cake at the party but give it out to the b-day party guests during the week.
4. I am considered white here, not an ethnically-ambiguous brown person.