After graduating last December, four of my good friends, Darwin, and I loaded into a 12-passenger van and headed to the Beehive State, Utah, where Darwin’s family welcomed the traveling United Nations Task Force on Side-splitting Remarks (to be shared later). I recently produced a short documentary compiling video footage and pics from the travels for ‘Friend Number 4’s’ graduation present. Here is one of my favorite clips from the middle of the short film.
{Song is Such Great Heights by The Postal Service}
1. The natural resting state of my hand is the above position.
2. My Mayan familiar surname translates into NuqDaq in Klingon which means Kharakheu in Romulan which translates into Wilat in Vulcan, meaning, one who descends from Vulcans. I am 1/164th Vulcan.
3. Between Darwin and I, I command this Starship Enterprise.
My ideal job would include daily conference calls with this savvy duo. They always know the hottest stock picks and can snag me extra pudding snacks or even an applesauce from the Mom. The view during last night’s Skype conference call couldn’t get any better.
…thrift stores. Since the time I started earning my own paycheck (donning that maroon visor, “curly or regular fries?” “Big Montana!”), I found my own Saks Fifth Avenue - Salvation Army. Minus the glamorous lighting, attractive displays, add in a frangrance department that takes eau de toilette literally, and I discovered my Bloomingdales. Since falling in love with pit stained t’s and the delicate scent of mothballs fused with Mustang Musk (yeah, you remember), I can’t break away. Today while wearing my Member’s Only jacket (a thrift original), I discovered this Vera Wang - all for about the price of two Beef ‘n Cheddars and a side of curly fries.
That’s the title of Blind Pilot’s recent album. For us it’s been more like 3 Months I’ve Downed. Three months I’ve downed on… waiting. Just like that. Waiting for Darwin to take the medical board exams, for him to get placed in a hospital so we’d know exactly in which city we’d be living. Thankfully our “on hold” music was to the tune of my sweet and inexplicably adorable nieces - Isabella and Olivia. I’ll put my life on hold any day if it means spending it with them.
On the fourth night in our new city, we caught a Blind Pilot show. After a quick trip on the metro from our new place on Friday night, we found ourselves just a couple of feet from Blind Pilot’s captivating sounds - sounds that are even better live than on their CD. Hear for yourself.
[audio:Blind Pilot Concert Oviedo.mp3] The first song you may recognize from the Manatee video, Oviedo followed by Go On, Say It.
[audio:3 Rounds and a Sound.mp3] 3 Rounds and a Sound
3 rounds and we’ve found - found our place in the Washington D.C. area. As for you (if anyone even looks at this thing anymore), you’ll find a little bit more of what I call “Dear Diary” best illustrated by this 1995 excerpt from my 11-yr old journal:
Catching the reader up to speed with my enthralling 11-yr old life
My dear friend Kaustavi has mad dancing skills that border on paranormal. Hypnotizing to watch, she makes the impossible contortions look effortless and elegant. Having trained in Indian Classical Dance since she was five, the amateur stage never seems to match her mastery. {Gorgeous shots were provided courtesy of Thanh Le from Saturday’s World Fest performance}
I don’t often write about internet finds but this time I’ve won the lottery. I am so head over heels for this site that if I could marry the internet and have lots of internet babies, this website would be the internet child I secretly favored over all the others. Based on the Music Genome Project, Pandora selects songs with the same musical qualities (among some 400 attributes) as your coveted few.
Check out my stations. My diehards are ‘Weezer,’ ‘Julieta Venegas‘ and ‘The Smiths.’The songs that make me stop, drop and listen every time are: Xavia by The Submarines, Pointing Fingers by Little Brazil, Island in the Sun by Weezer.
(if you’re on Pandora too, add me so we can share stations)
The day I have been waiting for is finally over! I lived through my oral exams yesterday (and passed)!!! In order to graduate with a masters in economics, our department requires that each student pass an oral exam. The entire hour-long process feels like one of those big awkward silences that follow the “your daughter is sooo adorable” comment to the mother of a 1yr old boy (he was wearing a bracelet).
As I stood up at the chalkboard for an entire hour while I explained probability distributions and the law of large numbers, here are some of the neurotic thoughts that flooded my head:
“I hope these pants don’t make my butt look like this chalkboard - but more than that, I hope no one is paying attention to either one.”
“His eyes have been closed for a long time. Is he sleeping? Yeah, I think he’s sleeping. Actually, he just confirmed it by asking, ‘What are we trying to figure out now?’ after I’ve been working this problem for about 3 minutes already.”
“That t-distribution I drew on the board looks like… dang it, maybe I should erase it. I can’t - then they’ll know that I know it looks like a…”
“Maybe if I write small enough, they won’t be able to read any of this…”
And when I couldn’t answer a question, I just threw on Zoolander’s Blue Steel to hide my deer-in-headlights expression.
I am so in love. In November, I’m not voting for the candidate with the best economic plan, but the one who’ll promise to SAVE THE MANATEES. After traveling a looong 6 hours on the way from Miami to TX, we stopped in Crystal River, FL so we could wake up the next morning at 5:30am and swim with the Manatees.
In the lake at 7am with a warm rain falling on my back, swimming between Darwin and a live manatee was an experience that rates right up there with being born.
The captain/guide/camerawoman filmed the entire dive. Some highlights: @ :45 me getting sidelined by a small boy, @ 1:20 the small boy’s father stepping on a manatee, @ 2:10 a baby manatee nursing, @ 2:20 the swim to freshwater springs, @ 3:40 one long-necked turtle. {song is Oviedo by Blind Pilot}
No, no she’s not. But when you’re holding that girl, you wouldn’t mind if people mistook her for your own. In fact, just holding Isabella helped divert unwanted advances at S. Beach: “Es tu hija?” unwanted advance asked. “Yes, she’s my daughter.” What a man-repellent.
At Whole Foods, Darwin got mistaken for Isabella’s dad - Isabella’s baby-pattern-baldness is strikingly similar to the way Darwin cuts his hair. Note, I said, the way he cuts his hair. If you can’t tell, in the first picture Isabella is checking out Darwin’s nice fade as she throws back a cold one.
Instead of a pair of floaties, Darwin’s floating body served as as Isabella’s personal luxury liner. At first she was a bit confused, thinking shouldn’t this yacht be equipped with autopilot. Then she got the hang of steering the thing by slapping the back of Darwin’s head. Simply adorable.
(overheard in the men’s bathroom at the movie theater after watching The Dark Knight)
While standing in front of a urinal, movie-goer says to his friend, one urinal down: “Dude, for the first time, I saw a movie that was better - than - life.”
(Picture is of a mural near our place). Darwin and I finally made it out of frog country and are now residing in Miami. So as to not disappoint my sister, Sophia, I’m finding my way out of the blogging black hole. Bienvenido a Miami.
I love fortune cookies. They can be more brutally honest than your best friend, they are so tasty, and for extremely indecisive people like me, they make life decisions that easy: crack, eat, behold-the-future.
I got this one last night. Said Happiness is coming on Sunday! Happiness, you’ve been missing from my life for way too long.
My last trip to Dominica was one of contradictions. Beginning with the winding ride from the airport, it felt as if I had never left. At the same time, it felt like I had never lived there before.
When we got to the apartment, it felt as if I had reached home, with Darwin, only to begin the count until my flight away.
[above: palms from our rooftop, palm grove on way to campus; below: walking by the anatomy lab]
[above: Darwin's BDAY and 4 semesters worth of medical school - condensed; below: 'our' beach]
[above: our first meal (Dec. 2006) and my last on the island (Mar. 2008): Coke & Perky's Pizza; below: First Day, Last Night]
Sorry, it’s been way too long… I want to share thoughts about my (presumably) last time to Dominica but my boss called school is demanding overtime from me lately. Want to quickly share one pic from that week (barely any photoshopping this time, really). Can you see the crescent moon (click to enlarge)? Wait up for me, I’ll be back soon.
On the way to Dominica, I scheduled my layover in Philadelphia. Although I was in Philly for less than 24 hours, my incredible sister hauled us to a delicious Indian Restaurant and the Frida Kahlo exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. She’s a long time favorite artist of ours. Once, I coerced the Ashbakers and Darwin (after only a month of dating) into recreating a 8 ft by 3 1/2 ft Diego Rivera mural for a class project. Remember that one, Ashbakers? (proof coming soon).
This was Friday night: the three of us in heels (Mom, my sister and I), one baby in a stroller, and one cold shower. Between us, one umbrella shielded us (Isabella) for the 8-minute run and 80 steps to the museum doors only to confront the sign “Underground Parking This Way.” And how did the cutest niece in the world fare? Laughing and giggling all the way… I love that girl.
Today I voted in the Texas Primaries (about the stamp, I’m not democrat - nor does that mean I am republican - but had to choose which party’s primary I’d vote in). So, what issues will sway your vote the most in this election? Anyone go to their caucus? I wish I had gone. Alas, Macro calls…
After spending a weekend in San Juan, I’ve discovered what this masters degree in economics is actually good for - analyzing the demand for my salsa group performances and calculating how my outfit should coordinate with the other musicians in my grupo. Salsa Cantante will be my next career move. Watch this talented Puerto Rican salsa group perform at Nuyorican Cafe as we danced the night away. .I cannot heart Puerto Rico enough. Reason #582: In Puerto Rico, it’s the passionate movie-going audience that becomes the highlight of the movie - clapping, cheering, hilarious comments to the actors by the old ladies in front of us, behind us, and next to us - far better than the movie itself. Reason #791: Entertainment at the airport. Even the airport exceeded my expectations, yet again (see this picture).
Truth. I’m like a… fisherman with no luck, a lawyer who can’t win an argument, a gardener without a green thumb. The truth is I’m an economist who can’t add or subtract. Surprised?It’s true, I can’t add numbers like 8+5 or 7+8 or 9+4 without using what I was taught in the 2nd grade called, Touchpoints. I’m reminded almost every day of my life, but in particular, today when I added 8+5 (with touchpoints, of course). I thought =13 looked wrong, “perhaps I missed a touchpoint,” I thought. So, I did my touchpoints again.
I roll my eyes when I recall learning this method. I wonder why no one noticed that the only sound during a timed math quiz was our frantically tapping pencils or that during addition flashcard races, every student bobbed their head (think: running chicken) as we envisioned tapping the points with our foreheads. Just picture it.
On the other hand, how would they have known this revolutionary method would propagate such a compulsive adding disorder at age 25? I’ve tried to quit. Really. Even when I memorize 4+7=11, I just cannot add it without touching the points, if only with my eyes. It’s been hard to hide this secret. I lightly tap my pencil during exams. I blink instead of tap if asked to add on the spot. I’ve even diverted conversations if the numbers are too fertile with points, 9+8 anyone? That’s at least a 5-second task.
“No.”
A bunch of us went to see the play Fiddler on the Roof this weekend at my alma mater high school. What a performance! One of the actors was a girl I babysat when I was like 13 (I have never felt ‘old’ til tonight… oh yeah and also when I found Darwin’s gray hair in my comb). Hearing the main character’s name, Tzeitel (pronounced Zytle), reminded me of all the ‘Juno‘ introductions in my life…
Darwin and I have been living without a television for over a year… no, it’s okay - we choose to. See, not having a TV frees up so much more time to waste on the internet. “It’s a win-win-win” (Can you name that episode from The Office?).
While in Philly, we all took a trip to New York City to check things out. Darwin and I hated to admit it, but we actually kinda liked the city - at least it exceeded our expectations of unintelligible smells, gangs of rats carrying off little children, and being plowed by people who could win gold medals for fast-walking(3rd video). Here are some pics - just click on a square and a larger picture should pop up. If it’s not working, follow this link to take a peep.
Tapas, Flamenco Dancing, and Darwin - Sophia and Jason got all these to fit in one little envelope labeled, Merry Christmas. When in Philly, do visit Amada.
Did you notice what happened at the end in the video? Their feet were moving so fast that they actually traveled to Spain, shared a cafe with Enrique Iglesias and then returned before the song was over.
Cheers! Hope everyone is doing well and enjoying this holiday season!
In Utah, we found home at the Ashbakers. I loved swimming in December (they built an indoor pool), snow (for the first 5 minutes) and of course, spending time with loving family.
We’re now at our second home in Philadelphia with my family and the Cutest Baby in the World (based on a public opinion survey).
College Station, TX is calling us wondering when we’ll be home - anxious about when we’ll turn down the thermostat Lytle left on at a balmy 75F before leaving for Utah.
“Do you think religion should play a role in the presidential race?” asked David Brody as he passed me the mic that I could hardly see because the camera man had me take off my binoculars - there was ‘a glare.’
“No, it shouldn’t be a factor. It’s simply a distractor…” And then I went on to ramble about how Brittney Spears seems to have really let herself go, but I guess that’s what’s bound to happen to child stars. No, that’s not what I said, but I don’t care to remember since when I do remember, all I can think of is what I SHOULD have said.
I was singled out by CBN (watch for me after the 700 club airs their Christmas extravaganza - “Turtlenecks and Semi-Precious Stones for the Holidays”) when my study group and I emerged from our books to check out the action (we were the only ones not in pant suits and ties). Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney gave his ‘Kennedy speech’, Faith in America, at the Bush Sr. Conference Center (attendance was by invitation only).
While I appreciate the open conversations about my faith that Romney’s candidacy has incited, this post is in no way an indicator of my political allegiance. I am undecided - still a lot of politicking to go.
Anyway, I was able to get some close-ups of Bush Sr. (and a smile), his cute wifie, Barbara, and the Mitt posse. But just to clarify, this in no way compares to the awesomeness of three other recent encounters:
At about 2pm today, an earthquake of 7.4 magnitude struck about 26 miles south of Dominica but luckily no one was injured, only structural damage was sustained on our little island. Now that’s luck Darwin, a hurricane and an earthquake within 3 months! Watch this video (click here) of the earthquake from a med student at their apartment off Banana Trail (yes, the road is really called that).
I bet even if that smile wasn’t permanently sewn onto his torso - he wouldn’t be frowning. No, no he wouldn’t. I’ve been known to charm a couple over-sized walking objects in my younger years. I still got it…
Want to know how to really freak out your rock climbing partner? When they’re ready to rappel down, instead of letting them down slowly and gently, bring them down at an uncomfortably fast pace! I don’t suggest it… but if you’re stuck with a beginner like me - I just might give you good scare.
Oh and on top of that good scare, I’ll abruptly stop your descent right before you reach the ground - especially if you’re a guy (remember - you’re in a harness).
Luckily, this guy was really nice about it and even said he’d done it before too (right…). But I’m sure if we meet at the ropes again - he’ll be walking the other way. I would advise it!
…when that callus which developed on the middle finger of your right hand because you write too much and hold your pencil too tight has gotten so “finger-bunion-y“and tumor-like that while (doing what else but…) writing, the skin broke open and now you must find creative but awkward ways to hold your pencil until it heals. Whew… it’s time to stop writing.
As I traveled from the San Juan airport to the hotel, the taxi driver informed me that our hotel (Hotel Normandie) was haunted. A woman had attempted to dive from the 5th story into the swimming pool (located at the center of the hotel at the time) and missed.
Its name comes from another tragic past. Built as an ocean liner, the SS Normandie sank while being converted into a troopship during WWII.
You may recognize the famous poster inspired by Le Normandie. The design of the hotel also aspires to mimic the grandeur of the ship. To see the likeness, take a look at our pics, click here.
Despite this macabre introduction, the hotel was anything but. I definitely recommend hopping aboard if you get the chance.
For a bigger slideshow, click here.
Darwin and I just spent a perfect weekend in San Juan, Puerto Rico. The people are just as impressive as the landscape - so eager to impart their culture with strangers. At times it’s tricky to know whether to start with English or Spanish but it usually ends up a mixture of both anyway.
My poor disillusioned Darwin - focused so intently on understanding every word from the Borriquas’ (Puerto Ricans) mouth, he failed to notice what we were really speaking. I broke his heart when I informed him most of the conversations were really in Spanglish.
Not only was love in the air in Puerto Rico, but ghosts were abounding also. We managed to capture a ghost on film while exploring the tunnels in the fort. Click here to see it.
Puerto Rico has two new fans. Who wouldn’t love a place that provides entertainment while in the check-in lines at the airport?
A few observations on what separates me from them.
Level of education - most of them, although not required, have a masters degree.
Level of dedication - this could include overnighting at the office. I thought the yoga mat a fellow classmate carried into the office was for naps but suspicions were confirmed when I saw another office with a cot laid out at around 10pm. Yep, the Economics Dept. Hotel is quite, how do you say it… economical.
…but Lytle could not. So I got this shirt from my sister-in-law for my birthday (she knows I’m a Macgyver fan). The first day I wear it, I lock myself out of my office with only a water bottle in hand (I knew what it felt like to be homeless for 5 hours).
As soon as I had shut that door, I knew it was still locked. I tugged at the door handle and then looked down at my shirt… I love how life demands you have a sense of humor when you least want to laugh.
Riding my bike to school, the morning fog can accumulate on my glasses (and gets my pocket protector soaked, might I add) which makes it hard to see as well. But to experience the serenity that blankets the landscape is worth the $29.95 I spent on a pair of clip-on wipers for my glasses. (If only someone made clip-on wipers…).
When I leave at dusk, I usually catch the tail of some spectacular sunsets. Then I swerve to stay clear of the rushing horses, wade through the rolling rapids of the Bush Sr. Presidential Library water fountain and crank those pedals down Barbara Bush Drive all the way home.
Coming home after having finished my first round of exams, I found this little guy outside my apartment. I had never noticed him before. He captured my thoughts at that moment perfectly.
After pouring through the morris code that is my econometrics class, in the end, I was actually able to make sense of the questions on the exam. I was actually able to write something on that white sheet of paper. My biggest fear, while preparing for this exam, was that I wouldn’t be able to write a single symbol, word, equation - anything on that paper… that I’d just stare at that white blank sheet of paper.
Through brute force and plenty of prayers, I feel like I’ve reached a milestone. I feel as though I’ve finally broken ground and can finally see some light.
Anyone care to join me on the Oz Bus? click here. Be prepared and pack those ruby slippers. You’ll need them to find your way home after this trip, Toto.
If you did, we’d have to be quiet because I share it with three other people. If you need to find me anytime during the next three months, I’ll be in here.
Every first day of school (until this semester because no profs called role) I waited until the teacher neared the end of the list and then cleared my throat and listened for that pause. “Little… Little Warren?” “It’s Lytle,” I would reply, hopefully in the confident sounding voice I had practiced in my head moments earlier.
I’ve always been intrigued by the origin and meaning of names, presumably because I have yet to find a definite answer where mine has come from. Any ideas?
I don’t have any babies, but I know people with babies or soon to be babies. A site featured on a recent NPR Tom Ashbrook report highlights the trends in baby names. If you’re stumped for a name, or want to see how many were born in 2006 with your name (Lytle was a no-show) then check out this site (click here).
Sophia, apparently you have a sense for the what’s fashionable in the culture of names. Isabella was on the social security top 10 baby names of 2006. And so was your name, Sophia. Maybe we should concede on a nickname for Isabella so that on her first day of kindergarten she doesn’t answer when the teacher calls on the ‘other’ Isabella. I vote for Izzy.
When I solicited help from the best mechanic in the world (my cousin Steve) on what to look for when buying a used car, he asked me, “Do you know how to kick the tires?” Do I know how to kick the tires, I thought. Of course, extend leg, bend knee and try not to stub your toe. “Yeah,” I replied. “No, do you know how to kick the tires?” he repeated. I waited for a minute as that giant gray cloud of naivety finally passed overhead and I then realized what he meant, “Kick the tires?” I asked.
So here are Steve’s secrets of the trade. I hope someone may find them useful. Employ these tactics to look like you know what you’re doing, or ideally, to find out if the car is really lemon (a junker) or only a semi-lemon.
1. Kick the tires. Checking for suspension problems. 2. Tires. run your palm along the top edge, is it smooth or uneven? If it’s bumpy, pass it up cause it may have suspension problems. 3. Smell the oil. Take the dipstick and rub that oil between your fingers (you want to look like a pro, yeah?) and inhale that oil into your lungs. Does it smell burnt? If so, move on. 4. Transmission fluid. Does it smell burnt? Hopefully not. Is it a clear red color like some syrupy Big Red (the soft drink). 5. New paint job? What are they trying to hide? An accidental past? 6. Tap the fender. Do you hear metal? A low thud, a hollow sound means it was probably wrecked. To verify, check number 8. 7. Wheelwells. Look underneath for “Bondo” a type of car glue - if it’s there, the car’s been wrecked. 8. Under da Hood. At a glance, look for smooth places and shiny things. If there’s new paint, if it’s clean, someone is most likely trying to hide something. Who dusts their engine anyway? 9. Turn key. Does the check engine light come on and then turn off? It should or someone has tampered with it and there’s a major problem they’re hiding. 10. Use your gut. It’s the most reliable polygraph. Does the seller look you in the eye? Do they seem anxious or only mention problems when you discover them.
So if you’re willing to pretend like you know what you’re doing, you may haphazardly discover a lemon and possibly avoid a painful purchase. Then, hopefully in the end, you won’t be stuck making lemonade out of lemons.
(I love my red car! Steve got a great deal for me! Bet you can’t guess how much it went for…)
I apologize for the lack of posts - it’s been a hectic couple of weeks and a fearful first week of classes. I didn’t think that the classes would be this difficult - I’m realizing that I learned economics in undergrad just enough to do okay on the tests and just enough to not know what it all really means.
This semester I’m taking 3 classes which is full time for a graduate student: Econ 607 Microeconomics, Ecmt 660 Mathematics for Economists, and Ecmt 675 Econometrics I. So far, econometrics is the most challenging; a page of notes resembles one of those 3-D pictures (try this one) - you know, the ones that if you stare at long enough, you’ll see a 3-D dolphin pop out. I tried it with my notes - answers to the homework did not appear.
Luckily, it seems that my professors teach the material fairly well. My favorite quote by a prof so far is, “I’m going to grab you by your shirt collar, pick you up and drop you into a sea of calculus.” Now if only I had remembered to put on my floaties.
You know that song, I’m a Red-Neck Woman - it’s a country song. I cringe when I hear that title. I’m not one (although my farm days could put me in this category) - but I would now like to make the claim that I am a low maintenance woman. Why? (See picture below).
See those shoes? They’re my size 7 shoes. See how big that bag is in comparison to those shoes? I’m moving. Moving from Dominica to College Station, Texas to pursue a M.S. in Economics at Texas A&M and these two carry-ons are all I am taking with me.
Why so little? Three reasons:
1) I wanted to make sure my luggage wouldn’t be lost by Liat Airlines (that happened 2 weeks ago - it was lost for 1 week),
2) The day after the hurricane left, due to limited flights, Liat Airlines handed out seats on a first-come-first-serve basis. Even if you had a confirmed and purchased ticket in hand, they would give your seat away to a guy 5 feet in front of you. If this was happening again, we were ready to be the first ones sprinting from the airport property front gates (when they opened at 6am) to the airport terminal (about 1/2 mile away) and no rolling bag would hinder my record time.
3) Do you do this? I have favorite clothes that I rotate about every four days. So in reality, no matter how long I’m staying, my favorite four is all I need to pack.
Well, I’m now a self-proclaimed low maintenance woman - not to be confused with a self-proclaimed red-neck woman. Although, the red-neck transformation will come soon as the mutation into a Texas Aggie begins (only externally - I’ll always heart UT Longhorns).
4:00am, Sunday, outside Melville Hall Airport, Dominica
8:30am, Sunday, inside Melville Hall Airport, Dominica
A fight almost ensues - see everyone looking in the same direction. Imagine the largest, tallest Dominican you’ve ever seen. Massive.
8:30am-11:40am, Sunday, Hot and Stinky, one room with over 100 people and no AC or breeze through the windows.
12:20pm, Sunday, Land in Antigua
1:09am, Tuesday, Miami International Airport, writing this post while Darwin sleeps on my shoulder.
That is what the Dominicans say when you ask about their day, and that is what Darwin and I are saying after Hurricane Dean has passed over us. We are doing just fine. Those we know are okay also. Unfortunately, the hurricane claimed 2 lives in Roseau. In Portsmouth and Roseau the damage did not go unnoticed but it was not as bad as it could have been.
On Thursday night, the power shut off at ten and the dark was as black as I’ve ever experienced it - No moon, no stars, not a street lamp, not an apartment with a generator. We waited for the storm to come. It felt like we were waiting for a guest to arrive. Darwin read Harry Potter and I read The End of Poverty. Dean came at around 2am, just as Darwin found me with my legs propped on the table, my head resting on the back of the chair, and me fast asleep.
We slept all through the night - through most of the hurricane. When we woke up, the winds were still really strong and our apartment floor entryway was covered with about an inch of water that seeped through the door. I got a bit of footage of the storm, but it was difficult when winds were really strong without getting my camera wet. The dog you see at the end of the video was taken after the storm on Friday - the animals were going crazy! (j/k - that dog belongs to a professor and always runs for miles behind his car).
That was Thursday and Friday. Thankfully, the power returned a couple hours ago although water from the faucet is still brown - still no cell phone coverage. Never get Digicell. Luckily, the Dominica airport resumed operations this afternoon, so tomorrow we leave on our scheduled flight to Antigua.
Unfortunately for most, either their fright of the impending Hurricane or the thought of not being able to go home for the break forced many to charter 8, 16, and 30 passenger flights on Thursday. A friend who was at the airport described the calamity as complete chaos. Some pilots/planes weren’t showing up, bidding wars were taking place for unclaimed charter seats, money, credit cards flying around, frantic people everywhere. A friend charged $14,000 to his credit card to charter a flight and started signing people up.
It is rumored that one student who chartered a plane (charged it to his credit card), had his seat taken by a some random student and was left behind. In the end, no matter how many people were fighting to get on a plane, at closing time, the airport started boarding up, the workers started leaving, and a bus loads of of students came back.
It’s been a long couple of days; I haven’t showered since Thursday but I’m so thankful we’re okay and able to (cross your fingers) leave as scheduled. Tanks be to God.
We just got back from a pre-hurricane, post-semester swim and I thought I’d update. This is what Dean looks like now.
Fortunately Dean has only upgraded to a category 2 hurricane. We feel relatively safe, as we are on the north-west side of the island. Our building is made of cinder block and concrete, we aren’t on ground level, and our bedroom doesn’t have any windows.
Plus I know how to swim. And for those who don’t, James Store Grocery still has life jackets for sale. How do I know this? The anxious Ross student ahead of me in line at James earlier today was purchasing one. We’ll see, maybe he’ll be the one laughing in the end… but I doubt it.
Dean was elevated from Tropical Storm to Hurricane last night. It should be here late tonight or early Friday morning (2am-ish). According to weather.com, Dean is the first Hurricane to come from the Atlantic this year. Watch it here and click on the “Dean Satellite” in the scroll bar. Click on “show map in motion” to get an animated version.We’ll be fine, no worries - and although I’m sure the Dominicans know what to do in a Hurricane as they go through these every couple years, I just can’t stop thinking about some of their houses made from four sheets of 1-inch plywood (it’s true - I saw them constructing one before). I pray that their homes will weather the winds that are now up to 80mph.
If you want to keep track of our tiny island getting hit , click here. Darwin and I have enough food and water but we just decided we didn’t want to be eating Ramen noodles and canned goods so we’re headed to the store to get all the ingredients for a delicious cake - a Hurricake. And something to eat besides Cliff Bars and canned corn.
I have these two Haitian friends that I run into about once a week (they’re usually together). Every time I see them, they both say in English with a big smile, “you are fat,” or “you look fat.” Then in Spanish they go on to say, “You look fatter than before.”
The first time I received such a compliment, I gave them such a confused glare - were they being rude? Now, I return the smile followed by a gracias.
In my first world of abundance, being ultra-thin is a sign of “beauty.” Could it be that in the poorest country in the Americas beauty is the opposite? In a place where 80% of the population is below the poverty line and where food is scarce, having meat on your bones shows you are able to achieve what is scarce - as much food as you’d like to eat. For people in the poorest countries, could strutting a plump figure be like driving around a flashy BMW in the states?
That’s a picture of the Haitian city swells taken from a plane. Haitian proverb: “Bondye konn bay, men li pa konn separe… God gives but doesn’t share. ‘God gives us humans everything we need to flourish, but he’s not the one who’s supposed to divvy up the loot.’ ” from Mountains Beyond Mountains.
My favorite story about a local peddler. This guy will usually come out at night and try to coax foreigners into making a donation towards a work of art he was creating - usually a hibiscus carving on a conch shell.
This particular time he wanted to sell us some hand-painted postcards. Interested, we stopped - I needed to mail some postcards out anyway. He told us to wait as he left to retrieve the postcards.
About three minutes later he appeared, with with a glass cup in one hand and a piece of paper in the other. He then sets the glass on top of the paper and starts to trace around the glass cup which was to be the magnificent circular sun in his ocean sunset da vinci. I think we caught him off guard by actually wanting to buy a postcard - it was probably the first time that pitch had actually worked.
Darwin and I are needing to go to the corner store tonight to grab some soymilk and toilet paper. The soymilk is for some delicious cereal I brought back in my suitcase. The fear factor comes into play when we plan on eating this cereal with frozen ants in it - something unthinkable back in the states.
You see, I brought some cereal to Dominica, left it on the counter-top overnight and somehow the ants burrowed through the plastic and had a party (a small one - there really weren’t that many ants). The ant factor became apparent when I felt that familiar tickling on my arm while popping shredded wheat into my mouth sans milk. Without a second thought - I shoved the bag into the freezer to freeze those boogers to death (I’m sure that’s what happens to them). I couldn’t bear the thought of losing that entire bag.
So when we buy some soymilk on the way home tonight, we’ll welcome a delicious bowl of shredded wheat with a few frozen ants. No fear! (remember when that saying was plastered on the bumper of every truck - I’m glad it’s not anymore and I’m glad I still use outdated phrases).
After the Texas wedding I headed to Philadelphia to see my beautiful niece (click here) and family (click here and here). Isabella is becoming quite the music connoisseur. Apparently this is what 1-month olds are listening to these days. I’m so not with it anymore.
Compadre Compreme Un Coco by Jose-Luis Orozco
[audio:12 Compadre.mp3]
Compadre cómpreme un coco,
compadre no compro coco,
porque como poco coco como, poco coco compro.
Godfather, buy me a coconut,
Godfather, I don’t buy coconuts,
because since little coconut I eat, little coconut I buy.
For those of us who don’t have a blackberry, blueberry or a hot new iphone and need to get on the internet for directions at 11pm here’s a little Lytle trick.
Find the nearest coffee shop - even if it’s closed. Try to park as close as you can to it, and hope the barista inside closing up doesn’t think you’re waiting for her and becomes alarmed. Then take that laptop, prop it up on the hood of your rental car and hope your computer can grab enough floating megapixels (whatever they are - you know what I’m talking about) to enable you to connect to google maps and subsequently safely arrive to your next destination. Thanks The Coffee Station, College Station, TX - you helped me navigate the dark 1am streets of Houston with confidence.
I loved my wedding - wouldn’t change a thing. But after attending the wedding of my best friend to a Polynesian, my wedding was the band that opens for a U2 concert. Their Polynesian wedding was the U2 concert.
The evening started with lots of food, live music, Polynesian dancers, a hula by the bride, a money dance (imagine dancing under a money tree during a hurricane), and ended with a big dance for those who weren’t afraid to display their rhythm (or lack of). It was quite the production and although I loved attending one… the thought of having to plan one of those things makes me want to go back in time and elope for her.
I’m not the Nancy Grace type - I don’t dish out my opinions to everyone. I usually hold onto them until I’m asked. Here are two bits I think everyone should know.
After spending a sleepless night at the JFK airport, I ended up talking with an airport employee from Nigeria. He solicited my advice on a recent dating situation: guy gets a girl’s phone number at a party and then guy calls girl the very next day to ask her out for dinner. The phone call didn’t go over very well. I was frank with him. You have to use the three day rule -wait at least three days before you call. Am I right? I know, I don’t like to play games either, but you have to - at least initially. It’s in our DNA or something.
Second bit of advice I gave our friend: Lunch dates. You can’t go wrong. First date? Take her to lunch. By making a lunch date, you’ll increase your chances of getting a “yes” reply from the prospect - we all gotta eat. And they have a definite end in sight; both can test the waters without any real time commitment. I have to credit the genius of this tactic to Darwin: even after picking me up 15 min late and smelling like mildew (having just come off the mountain skiing) - such a Don Juan - the Lunch Date magic worked on me.
Over the next 14 days, I’ll be eating peanuts or pretzels on 8 different planes, sleeping on the ground in one airport, and getting my year’s fill of airport people-watching. The roles I’ll be playing: a bridesmaid in one wedding, a maid-of-honor in one wedding, a no-show to a third wedding (because it’s on the same night as the second wedding), and an auntie who’s trying to figure out how to start spoiling a one-month old.
Have you ever had that day where you realize that you’re not always going to be 21 years old? I think today is that day. Brushing my hair this morning - a long curly white strand of hair found it’s way into my comb. But it might have been Darwin’s, I don’t know. I’m just saying… it’s a possibility.
On my last post I joked about speargun fishing for dinner. On the way to school this morning, I passed a Dominican who was headed to the ocean for his dinner. As he passed by and we exchanged morning pleasantries, with his speargun over his left shoulder and some fins over his right, we both turned to glance behind us - him to see what my view was from the back (according to Darwin) and me to confirm the speargun. We both grinned - that kind of smile that says, “you caught me.”
Not ten feet from the chance meeting - not five feet from Hong Kong Chinese restaurant - a rat as big as my shoe almost ran over my foot as he emerged from the bush en route to his day job - cleanup crew at Hong Kong. Suspicions were confirmed and I’m relieved I boycotted that place months ago.
I love the Roseau Public Library. Where else can you find books about snorkeling called Skin Diving published in 1952? The photo above demonstrates one of the most critical skills of skin diving to master - the Jack-Knife. The diagram makes it look so easy, but it’s actually difficult to not gouge any extremities with the 6 foot death-spear during descent. But, according to Skin Diving, you’ll need the spear because “some fish that the skindiver may meet” (click here) do not look friendly (see center, #6). I may possibly use the tactics found on page 62, Speargun Shooting (click here), to catch tonight’s dinner. Other classic titles on the shelves include: the anti-semitic Jewish as a Second Language and How to Acquire Ball Skills, A Scientific Approach - complete with projectile graphs, equations, and photos of kickball games.
The theme for Savanne Paille Primary School is “Industriousness - It Pays.” Today I attended their graduation and took pictures with my kids. I have 5 kids. I travel to a school, hidden away atop the mountain overlooking Douglas Bay, and spend time helping my group learn to read.
I love it despite my apparent shortcoming of being the best push-over. I’m not much of a natural discipliner and although they do learn, we do so in a more chaotic environment than the other groups. The weekly gifts don’t seem to send the right message either. I started out by rewarding only the most obedient student - after I handed him the pencil, the others whined, and I caved. I tried. So now everyone is rewarded. I call it my system of positive and negative reinforcement. Obviously, I play an intricate role in teaching them the meaning of the word ‘industriousness’ and how it pays off. Well at least I can teach them how to sound it out.
The clips I put together of the graduation start with a teachers singing, “Lord I Lift Your Name on High.” For that clip, I pasted together a series of photos since I filmed the performance on it’s side in order to get a better lengthwise view of Miss Carla. I forgot you can’t rotate video. The movie ends with the graduate dance. When I expressed how proud I was that they had written their own song, Darwin informed me the song was by the has-been British pop group, “Vitamin C” - sometimes I like the pinkish hue in my world better.
What a doll! Isabella Sophia Mulliner was born on July 2, 2007 and weighed 7 1/2 lbs. She is so adorable and seems pretty mellow. I can’t wait to spend more time with her. I wonder if she’ll end up being as mischievous as her mother… I I hope so!
Have you ever turned on the Spanish channel and found yourself watching some crrazy (not a typo - just roll the r’s) man in a gold face mask and spandex to match twirling in a furry of sweaty acrobatics with a duo of crazed midgets named Los Enanos del Terror who (despite a lower center of gravity) can bring the “smack down”?
Next question, Have you ever been to Wal-Mart? Well today I found myself in the middle of a Lucha Libre with my Mom as a possible contender - and in the sewing department nonetheless. Welcome to New Jersey. So this is such a fantastic story worth repeating. Mom and I were in the sewing department looking a some patterns when a heated argument between a Wal-Mart female manager and female employee ensued. As their voices rose, I went from ‘trying not to look’ to ‘can’t help from looking.’ Then there it was - the one word that set the manager off and smack! The manager gave the employee a loud blow to the cheek. The bell rang, the match had begun.
Not more than six feet away, the girls started pulling hair, slapping, grabbing - they were at it. Before I had time to process what was happening, I see my mom jump in the mess of arms, nails and hair and try to pry them apart - all the while telling them in Spanish to para (stop) while I was telling my mom to get out of there for fear she would be the next to receive a Plancha. After almost an entire round, a large male Wal-Mart employee arrives and aids my mom in restraining the younger, more vibrant employee while the manager took a stage left.
What a match. Today I saw that mother-hen side of Mom come out and possibly avert a perilous situation. When asked what made her jump into the ring, she said it was a story on Univision (Spanish TV Station) similar to this situation where the victim lost one of his eyes because no one would intervene. What Spanish TV teaches us, right Mom. What a crrazy and monumental day - Luchadora (Mexican wrestler) status achieved for Paula.
Me and zoos go together like ice cream and root beer; one of my favorite places to be. And yeah… it’s so cruel to keep them in such small cages… I felt that way too. But what zoos bring is an awareness of the incredible and varied life on this planet and an increased desire to preserve them. The Philly Zoo, like most zoos, contribute monetarily and bring awareness to save endangered, threatened species. So moral of the story is don’t feel bad for gawking at the caged creatures (it’s still hard not to feel bad). Who knows, maybe living in a zoo is like the celebrity life for the animal kingdom.
As many of you know, I have been studying for the Graduate Record Exam (GRE) which will be used to determine my near future. Graduate programs use it to see if they want me or not. I took it on June 7th, 10 days ago, but I thought I would give an update on how it went. It was HARD!
Aside from numerous opinions I had received saying that it was sooo easy, it wasn’t for me. I found the math to be very theoretical and tricky; it wasn’t as simple as the examples I had studied. The logic goes, the more you get right, the harder the problems become. By the end of the quantitative section (math), I ran out of time and guessed on the last three problems. When you consider that there are only 28 questions total, three problems can be a lot.
But despite my shortcomings, and through the help of many prayers (thank you!), I met my goal on the quantitative section - thrilled! From the onset, I was dreading my scores as I sensed this real round wasn’t going nearly as well as my trial runs. Needless to say when I saw the score on the screen, I was shocked. What a relief to have this chapter closed. Thanks to all who had me in their prayers that day. That is the only thing that got me through.
The one thing I’ve dreampt about doing since I left for Dominica was going out for Coldstone ice cream. Yesterday Sophia took us to the Pleasantville of New Jersey - Haddonfield, NJ. After a nice stroll, we got our coldstone.
Moments after that picture was taken, a plump woman opens the door of her chocolate shop (which apparently sold ice cream also) and yells at us to move off her bench with that ice cream because the bench was reserved for her customers. It was a public bench. My introduction to the east coast. Good thing my expectations were set a little low.
They are either really good dressers or prepared for everything because with all the suitcases they bring - they are either carrying their entire wardrobe or every item ever suggested in a 72 hour kit. I have never seen so many suitcases in my life. Well, I take that back - Mexico City Airport has some heavy packers. And I admit I was once a contributer. I remember when I was about ten years old, instead of fighting this battle, my Mom let us (my sister and I) pack everything we wanted. Two little girls had two full size suitcases plus two small-medium suitcases filled with our entire closet. I think the trip was for 3 weeks but we each had enough clothes for 2 months - without repeating a single outfit. Lesson learned.
Traveling to visit my sister in NJ on Tuesday, I had to change airlines in San Juan, Puerto Rico. I was doing great on time - the plane had arrived early. My bag was waiting for me at the carousel - perfect. Then I turn the corner and see the longest line. Yep - it’s a line for US Airways, the line I’m flying with. All I see is a sea of people and suitcases. Forty minutes later I get to the front of the line when the lady I was chatting with says, “You didn’t get an agriculture sticker on your suitcase?” Fine. I leave, put my bag through the x-ray machine, get my green sticker and hop back in line.
After check-in, I round the second corner to see my new home - the security line. This was the kicker. After a 20 minute line, I get selected to test their new bomb detection device. Fantastic. 20 minutes later I get in the elevator device and spend ten seconds getting blown with air. Finally, through the metal detector and they search my bag - the only thing to make the experience complete. With twenty minutes to go til the plane leaves, I rush to the terminal and just make it. Whew.
What a difference from the Dominica airport where they come to you to ask you to check in, where there is only one terminal, one gate, and where a sign says, “Welcome to All Visitors We Love You. Sorry You Have to Leave.”
I don’t normally get too excited about famous people sightings (since I see them ALL the time, especially on this tiny island in the middle of the West Indies - where?) but this sighting made my day (and I didn’t even see the guy).
I was on the phone with my sister who was in Baltimore the other day and in mid-conversation she said, “you are not going to believe who is walking by - Ricard Simmons!” The first thing I asked (wanting to know if he stays true to his character), “Is he wearing short shorts and white tennis shoes?” The sweet reply, “Yes, and pulled-up socks.”
Yes, I know - he’s got calves to die for. Anyway, I thought it was a hilarious serendipitous sighting and wanted to share my elation with everyone. To know that Richard Simmons wears his crazy workout getups to an outing at the mall and possibly to weddings (very likely) makes everyday that much better.
After finals ended for Darwin, we hopped on a ferry to Guadalupe to get in some shopping and meet Darwin’s parents flying in from Salt Lake City. Since the last nausea inducing ferry ride, I was apprehensive about this rematch. My track record for ferry rides over the age of 23 (I’ve been on at least 4 other ferry rides and none have ever bothered me) predicted another “here’s what it’s like to be pregnant” two-hour ride. Yet, thankfully I pushed my stubbornness aside and decided it was time to medicate myself. 25mg of Dramamine and I was out for half the ride.
This time, we went to Guadalupe to capitalize on what Dominica does not have much of - shopping! Our friend, Safi came with and on day 2 we spent a record 9 hours at the mall. Yes, I meant to write 9 hours. You may wonder why we were there so long. Three words: gelato, shoes, and people-watching (I combined the last two words into one so it would fit). Actually, it was the biggest mall on the island of Guadalupe and the taxi ride cost us $26USD one way so we were determined to get our money’s worth. Between the mall and hotel area, in a space of twenty-four hours, I savored gelato a total of three times. Plus, at the mall, we found a spot where the people watching was slightly more entertaining than an airport which occupied us for at least two hours.
Day three Safi boarded a ferry back to Dominica and Darwin and I explored the market and shops near our hotel. About midday, Betty and Owen arrived and we took them to eat at the most authentic restaurant on the island - Kentucky Fried Chicken. Although the choice was anticlimactic, by the end of the trip when they’d eaten more fruit than any Idahoan could handle, I thought I saw a glimmer of KFC longing in their eyes.
Doesn’t look that big, does it? It isn’t that big and it barely hurt, but the spectacle that ended in such a paltry scrape appeared impressive enough to send me to the hospital with bedsheets and pillow in hand; it is BYOSP - Bring Your Own Sheets and Pillow - at the hospitals here. The day after finals, the waves were curiously tall and forceful. Two local motor-powered wooden boats (suited for river tours) toted our party to a secluded beach, “Secret Beach.” As I exited the boat and loaded my arms with all they could carry with friends’ shoes and bags, I started wading through the knee-high turquoise water toward the beach. After three steps, I looked back just in time to see the monstrous wave that matched my 5′ 2″ frame pick up the boat, hurl the boat into me, and bury me into the sandy bottom with one apathetic toss. I remember holding onto all the articles as tightly as I could while being flung like a lifeless doll to shore. The boat had nicked me on my occipital lobe (lower head - thanks Darwin) and scraped my shoulder. I stood up out of the sand and walked to set down the bags and pair of shoes still clutched in my arms but now filled with sea. I was fine. Darwin on the other hand watched all this unfold in absolute helpless horror. Instead of me, I think the events almost landed him in the hospital. I am blessed and watched after.
(And just for clarification - I did not go to the hospital nor did I ever need to go to the hospital).
So I’ve slipped back into the usual pattern. If you go through my old journals (I was religious about keeping a journal around the ages of 10-15 although most sentences would start with, “And then I ate lunch… And then I took a nap… And then I went to swim practice… fascinating.) you’ll find that the date at the top of the page is March 19th, but I’ll start with the sentence, “It’s been a long time since I’ve written and A LOT (underlined) has happened since then!” (I was a nerd). And then I’ll start from February 14th and recount the previous month day by day or week by week until I get the “reader” caught up with my enthralling 13-year-old life. So here it goes again.
It’s April 29th and it’s been SO long since I’ve written. A LOT has happened!!! (I added the last two exclamation marks for interest - it’s very 13-year-old-esque of me). So now I’ll proceed to recount some memorable experiences (or at least the ones I have photos of) so I can stop feeling guilty for letting this lapse. To the disappointment of many, I won’t be using the present tense voice (pretending the events a month ago just happened or are happening) - it seemed okay in my journal but is just too weird to pretend that my mom and sister are here visiting me, for example, when so much time has passed that Darwin’s parents are actually here visiting.
So just scroll down and find where you left off and read up the posts. Thanks for being patient.
or maybe of just Ross University, Spring 2007. Darwin joined an intramural vball team for the semester and they won. The prize was a t-shirt with the most brilliant saying, “Exceptional athletes make exceptional doctors.” And that saying is not mutually exclusive - it is a fact that you can’t have one without the other. Ha! Funny saying, huh. Oh well - those of you that are friends with Darwin know that he’ll be wearing it inside-out anyway.
One of the final things we did before they left is go hiking around Cabrits - they are the two little mountains that looks like Lochness humps coming out of the ocean. This is my second favorite spot on the island. The two humps housed English garrison who defended the two bays from the French and now the forest overgrowth consumes the dilapidated forts and rusted cannons.
Typical of the Warren girls’ thinking - the grass looked greener on the other side. We booked a ferry to Guadalupe, stayed in a nice resort and missed Dominica half the time. I can see Darwin shaking his head while muttering, “Typical, typical.” But we did have a relaxing time and we got our white sand beaches.
The lack of French knowledge was a bit debilitating (as well as the Euro) but I was actually able to use Spanish more than English there. All in all, we were looking forward to our humble, inexpensive, lush Dominica.
The highlight (for me at least - I know they kept you from getting your sleep mom) was the nightly entertainment outside our balcony. The first night it was a Caribbean-style cover band. I heard the Cure to a reggae beat. The second night a young steel drum band provided the entertainment for a business party. The first two drummers are brothers. Their father is the director of the group; what a sound. One of my favorite songs played was Bob Marley, No Woman No Cry, via the steel drums.
Well, and Theo, me and mom. Later that day, we hiked up Scott’s Head. As always, Sophia was leaving us in the dust - and we’re not the ones 6 months pregnant. How is that for an ego uplift? Scott’s Head is my most coveted location on the island so far - see why…?
We spent a day at the falls and in the sulfur hot pots. My favorite time was watching mom float in the ‘healing’ waters of the sulfur hot springs like a happy worry-free kid. (See the hot springs behind us in the first picture? The sulfur turns the rock orange-ish).
Recognize that ship? They say it’s the Black Pearl from Pirates of the Caribbean. Now Survivor is filming a season on the island and the ship, Survivor, Dominica (At least that is what I heard… but, don’t quote me, I didn’t make it, I just spread it). We saw them swinging off a rope into the ocean and swimming around the ship a couple times… Sounds fun? Supposedly the show will air this fall. Never seen a full episode of Survivor, but I’ll probably be glued to it this fall.
My beautiful sister and wonderful mother came to visit me. They lugged two suitcases of my laundry list items I “needed” all the way here. I have missed them so much and I loved having them here and hated seeing them go. Here are our highlights.
I found this sequence of pictures Darwin took the day they arrived after we went on a little tour of campus. Mom, you are h-i-l-a-r-i-o-u-s and I miss having you here to make me laugh! What was captured was a classic moment among the Warren girls. I don’t remember what exactly was said, but each sentence started something like this…
“Girls, Girls, let me tell you one thing…”
Sophia and I in unison with a chuckle, “Okay, mom…”
I was walking up the hill to meet Darwin carrying my 108 lb. laptop in a bag with my clothes and a couple books. The bag apparently looked like it was filled with cement bricks or I looked like I was struggling to carry it (more likely) because a thoughtful transport driver named Melvin turned around, after having disappeared over the hill, and returned to offer me a ride. Didn’t think places like this still existed.
I haven’t written for some time because my mom, Paula and my sister, Sophia came to visit. They recently returned home. One of our excursions included going to Guadalupe; a neighboring French-speaking island, shaped like a butterfly. Getting there involved a bit more than we expected. Now I’m about to reveal this incident because it is no longer that painful to think about and it is getting to the “almost funny” stage.
In order to board the “L’Express des Isles” we needed to get to the dock in the capital of Roseau. From here, getting to the capital usually takes about an hour even though it’s only 20 miles away. The pot-hole ridden road takes expertise to drive; it is one series of switchbacks and hills and is like a video game where not hitting the pedestrians, goats and gutsy passing cars gets you more points. Since the transports that run regularly would have been too nauseating for my expecting sister and too nerve-wrecking for my mom, I decided it would be best to get a private transport to take us down.
Theo, the epitome of a Dominican - so incredibly nice, picked the three of us up at thirty minutes past noon to have plenty of time for our 3pm ferry. Upon getting into the transport, he asked us, does everyone have their passports? tickets? I had mine, of course; I set them out the night before. After a nice relaxing drive to Roseau, we were going through the security gates. I handed the agent my passport and tickets for the three of us. Then, what happened next made me think my eyes were playing tricks on me and made the agent think I was playing a trick on him. I stood absolutely mortified as we both stared down at Darwin’s face smiling back from the passport. I had never been so unhappy to see Darwin’s face.
After the reality set in, I told Theo. He looked at his watch and there was only one thing to do. It was 1:15pm. After Theo told my mom to stay, I hopped in his van and we sped away. Now, I’ve traveled on the transports that try to make as many runs between the two cities (Portsmouth and Roseau) in one day as they can and I liken it to a roller coaster ride. After we left the dock, I have never gone so fast in all my life (and that’s even with the switchbacks). We were on two wheels, screeching around curves and actually passing the transports that I thought drove crazy “fast”.
The entire ride, after I had apologized until Theo actually turned deaf, I was feeling absolutely horrible for making him do this. But now that this story is “almost funny”, it is a fantastic illustration of the people of Dominica. So many people I have met from Dominica are so incredibly genuine, humble and altruistic. They are the type of people that would give you the shirt they’re wearing if you were cold. Now perhaps these have been the luck of my experiences or I’m overly optimistic and although some might not agree, I’d rather be standing there with Darwin’s passport in Dominica than at any airport in the States with TSA.
And it’s over. So Darwin’s birthday was this past Sunday but the following Monday was the day of the second midterm of the semester. For Darwin, he’s just relieved the test is over. For me, well I’m relieved his birthday is over. At the onset, (as always), I thought, “why not, how hard could this be,” and proceeded to invite about 35 people to our small apartment for Mexican food and cake on Monday after the exam.
Back home, it’s not such a difficult task to cook for 35 people - you go to one place, the grocery store and buy all you need. Here, since there’s no car, I had to buy supplies a little at a time and hoard them away like a little hamster so Darwin wouldn’t suspect. And of course, not one place has everything you need - Wal-Mart hasn’t made it to Dominica (that’s actually a good thing).
But all in all, people came, the party was a lot of fun, Darwin was completely surprised, and there was plenty of food (whew). My biggest feat of the entire bash: making 74 flour tortillas by hand. The second biggest feat: (just let me brag about how much trouble I went through for one more minute) trimming and cutting 34 chicken breasts, marinating them, transporting them to Pete’s so he could BBQ them and transporting them back. On the day of (Monday), I baked a 3-layer chocolate cake, refried 4 quarts of beans, made 2 batches of rice, cut and sauteed about 10 bell peppers and 15 onions, took the chicken to Pete’s to BBQ and cleaned the apartment - oh yeah, and all without electricity; power had been out since eight in the morning. I must really like this guy or something.
Walking with the missionaries from my church today, I was talking with them about some new developments in the world wide web. One of them has been in the West Indies for almost two years. It was a riot getting their reactions to my explanation of blogs - “who would want to read someone’s online journal entries?” or Podcasts - “it’s like your own radio station?” or their reaction to MySpace.com - “what a waste of time!” or especially to Second Life. Actually, I don’t quite understand the obsession with this online fantasy world either.
Anyway, after these series of conversations, I began thinking about how Darwin and I might be out of touch with life in the states also. Although, I do read/listen to more news than I did back home, yet in terms of movies or fashions, we’ll still be watching E.T. and wearing side-ponytails and oversized tie-dyed tshirts. I wonder what we’ll miss… if anything important at all.
…Or maybe 20 meters or so. What a ride! I am so in love with diving! Today the sun was ripe and the water was calm for both dives. The first thought I had when I watched the waterline creep from the bottom of my mask to out-of-sight as I disinflated my BCD (jacket) and slowly sunk to the unknown was “this is just like what Captain Nemo did!” I felt like I was in one of those metal fishbowl helmets just breathing effortlessly as I floated into their world.
When I got to the sandy bottom and looked up at the lively reef, all I could think then was, “this is just like Finding Nemo.” At first glance, it was a busy mass of colors and alien shapes. If I focused on one area, I entered a city of bustling fish, each with their own agenda full of “To Do’s.” Pairs of blue and black Regal Blue Tangs (like the character ‘Dory’), two by two, chasing each other; schools of Yellow Tang (like the bubble obsessed fish in the aquarium called ‘Bubbles’) darting in unison; and Moorish Idol fish secretly floating in a secluded niche (remember ‘Gill’, the aquarium leader).
I love going to aquariums but after swimming in a gigantic one, the glass barrier cages might lose their appeal. Although the upside to looking at “them” (the fish) as opposed to swimming with “them” is that they can’t touch you. I got my first ever jellyfish sting - didn’t hurt that bad. And the pain was worth it to have a pretty-cool-looking scuba scar. Looking forward to more of those (sort-of) and looking forward to being a participant in the aquariums of the Caribbean and Atlantic oceans.
I took my first breaths underwater today! For the first few seconds, it was as if I was learning how to breathe all over again. Not that I remember taking those first gasps of air out of the womb, but this is just the opposite, yeah? - going from air to water. Then when my brain registered that I’m not sucking in water and my lungs are not filling up with water to take me to my death, it was like… that first kiss or that first ride on the bicycle without training wheels. A bit unsure at first, but then such a rush.
I love the sensation of being below the water and breathing like the fish do. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be a bird. I think breathing like a fish is one step closer. Tomorrow we’ll move out of the sandy shoreline and into the big blue. I can’t wait! All I’ll need is some scaly skin so that mine doesn’t turn into one gigantic prune again.
When I’m on Skype with my sister, she’s always asking me, “What are those noises?” I thought I’d record those noises and share them. So here they are - from my jungle to yours.
[audio:nightsounds.mp3]
Can you hear the dog? Lately, it has been replaced by a cow that sounds like it’s birthing another full grown cow. The tap tap is the rain on the neighbor’s overhang. And I have yet to see any of the frogs featured in this track, but apparently Dominica has this monster frog called a Mountain Chicken (I can only assume they taste like…) that hangs out in the nearby rainforest and sings to us til the early morning hours.
Carnival season has arrived. On the way home, our transport driver, Max, told us about the costume he has planned. Stay tuned for pictures of a slightly muscular, mustached Dominican woman.
Yesterday I had a wonderful experience. I was asked by the missionaries of my church to accompany them to the home of a couple of whom they are teaching. The day was just approaching dusk as the five of us gathered in the biggest room of the house that was only large enough to fit one very small table and five chairs.
As the fat mosquitoes audaciously drifted from body to body, and reggae music floated in through the open door, we discussed God, the sacrifice of our Savior, Jesus Christ, and learned from the pages of the holy scriptures. In that slanting wooden box, propped atop concrete blocks, sealing in the end-of-day heat like an oven, I felt so very close to God - and I’m thankful for that.
One thing I’ve noticed about the Dominicans, is that many of them do not smoke cigarettes. I made this observation after noticing the scores of medical students that DO smoke - funny, huh. Although, some Dominicans do smoke another kind of herbal “medicine.” On my morning run along the beach today, I said ‘good morning’ to a guy sitting on his porch (his porch attached to a train boxcar albeit which, I guess is his house - we didn’t really think anyone lived there) and a couple seconds later I could smell it. Just having a 7am hit, I guess. Now, don’t get a wrong impression (and don’t start worrying, Mom), I saw more of that around the downtown Austin public library than here, and plus, second-hand smoke from marijuana hasn’t been formally linked to lung cancer.
Just to clarify, I’m not an advocate of using marijuana, nor do I use, or have ever used, but its use is interestingly approved by the Rastafarian religion. They practice smoking the herb as a spiritual act and is usually accompanied with bible study. So that guy could of just been doing his morning bible study. I’ve seen quite a number of Rastafarians, who are easily distinguishable by their long dredlock hair which is also a religious belief taken from an interpretation in the bible. Their religion is unstructured, deviates from anglo-centric beliefs as much as possible and is about the individual discovering truth, spirituality, and one’s true identity on their own. One of their religious holidays is coming up, Bob Marley’s birthday, Feb. 6. Of the Rastas that I’ve met, they all seem really easy-going and peaceful people - and what’s a little (it’s about the 4th time I’ve noticed it) public illegal activity? Joke. I should probably be more worried about hanging outside the library before exams - all those nervous chain-smokers/future-doctors.
On the way back from reading time at a local elementary school where I’m volunteering, I met my friend in Portsmouth to see what this cricket tournament is all about. And believe me, it has been the talk of the town. On every transport I’ve been on the past couple of days, the chatter has been about this tournament. This match between the Windward Islands and Barbados lasts for four days, with a day of rest scheduled in before the fourth day. The players contend for seven hours each day.
Now, just to clarify, I didn’t know any of this when I sat down to watch. John, a Dominican in the stands, noticed two white girls throwing guesses and falsehoods back and forth as we tried to make sense of the why one person runs between two poles. Well, after a ten minute lesson from our friend John, I could tell you that the batsman defends the wicket from the bowler and tries to score as many points as possible while the fielders catch or chase after the ball to get the batsman out. Also after about ten minutes, with a pizza slice in one hand and a coca-cola in the other, I felt about as at home in those stands as I would at a baseball game with a hotdog in one hand and a coke in the other (that is, if I ate hotdogs, but you get the point). In the same way, this journey to Dominica seems to have gained the same sense of home. After a couple of days, and lots of familiar faces, places, and foods later, I feel about as at home here as I did in Texas.
You know your stingy (we’ll call it thrifty) when you get excited over a $3.49 refund. I think my ‘el cheapo’ nature comes from the Latino side. Anyway, I heard about this site called Refund Please. Whenever you buy anything from Amazon (the site, not from individual sellers), their policy is if the item you purchased drops in price within 30 days of the purchase date, they will refund the difference. You just enter in your purchase information like IBSN or ASIN number, price, date of purchase, and email address and RefundPlease.com informs you when your Amazon.com purchase has lowered in price. You request a refund with Amazon and then you’re $3.49 (or however much the refund is) richer. I love a bargain.
Picture this. It’s 12:42am. I’m standing on the bed in one corner. Darwin is standing in the other corner of the room. Our hands are held out in front of us as if waiting for a ball being thrown in a game of catch. Our eyes are fixed on the white walls. It’s only when it flys in front of the white that you can see it. After ten minutes of playing charades, we win. That mosquito won’t be getting second helpings tonight.
Mom, before you read this, maybe I should already say it for you, “Don’t make things so complicated, Lytle.” Thanks Mom, I should have called you before embarking on today’s unnecessary task - making tortillas from scratch. I had a couple people ask me, “So what did you do today?” My eyes looked to the ceiling as I thought back to the day’s activities, and all I could think of was: make tortillas.
Now, this is a fantastic example of a little bump in the road I’ve encountered. I have all these things I want to do and accomplish here (I mean, I made plans for at least 6 months before we came), but I’ve found that everyday I end up making tortillas til it’s 10:30pm. Where is Franklin Covey during these desperate times? What can I do to change this daily rut?
I mean, I’ve tried. I’ve really tried to utilize my time here. This week, I started off with a detailed daily schedule, allocating time for everything short of bathroom breaks (the logic being that those events are hard to plan for). Come Monday afternoon, I was making tortillas. So, I’m asking for it… any suggestions to keep motivated when I don’t have final exams looming over me?
Now, my tortilla dilemma doesn’t compare to that of Mexico’s. This recent news bit is a entertaining and a great example of global interdependence; I thought it was interesting enough to share. Mexico is now facing a tortilla shortage. Just as we all shouted and complained as the gas prices rose, the Mexican people are taking to the streets “in defense of the tortilla.” Their tortilla is our gasoline, that sweet spot that can never be satiated. I read that for a population of about 100 million, Mexico eats 300 million tortillas a day. And now, amid beanie babies and scores of ‘The Core’ workout with Brooke Burke and Gunther Peterson, you can now buy kilos of tortillas on Mexico’s Ebay (called ‘Mercado Libre’).
After Americans felt the belt tighten when the price of gasoline rose, the scramble to find the next best substitute came up with ethanol. I was talking to a guy from Iowa the other day and he was relating how farmers are really sitting pretty this year (although most commercial farmers do anyway thanks to gov subsidies). Corn prices have almost doubled since last year. And now it’s our neighbors to the south that are feeling the squeeze. But unfortunately, because of the 3+ tortillas a day, they have a lot less slack in their belts.
Roseau, the capital, is such a quaint and easygoing city. The Rosesauians are so friendly and they know everything that goes on. While walking though the streets yesterday, we were stopped by a nice couple of ladies just chatting on the sidewalk. They wanted to know where we came from, what we were doing here, and then excitedly related the arrival of 45 Cuban doctors on Sunday. The Cubans came with large white boxes, but “no one knows what’s in them.” “Do you know what’s in them?” they asked us. I love it. Who needs to read the newspaper on an island - just talk to the gabbing friendly ladies.
I just had to. When else will I be able to use that phrase so perfectly? Besides other names, Dominica is also known as the “Whale Watching Capital of the Caribbean.” Today we set out on a 60 foot Catamaran in search of our own Moby Dick (he was a sperm whale after all). About 5-6 miles offshore, the captain and his crew used a sonar device to listen for the whales and determine their location. Their clicking noises filled the speaker. About 20 minutes later, they successfully found a pod of whales just hanging out (or logging as they call it).
In their logging state they were easily approachable and seemed to pose for the cameras while noisily blowing water in a shooting stream. At one time, we could see as many as six sperm whales clustered together. Thankfully, no one on our boat got sick, although the afternoon group was full of seasick sightseers. Whale watching - check that off the list. All for 10 US dollars - a whale of a deal! (Last time EVER to use that expression, promise).
We just got back from the white coat ceremony. It’s a type of rite of passage ceremony that marks one’s entrance into medical school. This one was complete with a visit from the President and First Lady of the country (albeit a country of 70,000 ppl), an Irish doctor who admitted during his speech to have forgotten the names of the President and First Lady (not a good thing), and a slew of beaming white coats.
Aside from the white coats and circumstance, the significance of the occasion, although different for everyone, was a reassurance of why they spend every daylight hour studying when the beach is 2 minutes from the library. I’ve noticed that for many, this first week has taken them for an intense ride. This ceremony seems to have recharged their desires and their minds for another week or so. For Darwin, this week of memorizing all the muscles, bones, nerves, etc. seems to point to an end that is closer in reach - if only mentally.
Like a light switch, the atmosphere changed with the rising sun today. Walking around campus this morning I could easily sense the tension. Classes have begun… and I feel fantastic! There is some mildly sinister about the satisfaction I feel in knowing that I’m not facing the tedious stress everyone else around me is facing. Darwin doesn’t seem stressed (yet), so that’s good. I love being in a routine again - today I worked out, went to a meeting for all those not in med school, went snorkeling, and worked for a good 5 hours (analyzing data for a company in Austin). My life is nice.
Being here in the Caribbean is absolutely amazing. Yesterday I found my second favorite thing to do in the ocean (first being snorkeling, so far) - lazily floating on top of the waves and letting them carry me as the sea breathes in and out and rushes against the shoreline. One of my least favorite things about being here is responding to the question, “So what are you going to do here?” Read the rest of this entry »
Now that we’ve got all our electrical and Internet infrastructure in place before the holidays start, I can update the site. So flight from Puerto Rico to Dominica was not extremely comfortable but it was fun. Getting bussed out to the propeller plane at the Puerto Rico airport didn’t inspire much confidence in the flight. The propellers were so loud that it was hardly plausible to talk, so in between watching for islands and napping Darwin and I played sudoku.
Merry Christmas! It’s December 25th and everyone is asleep after the 5am morning’s festivites. I’m spending the holiday with Darwin’s family in northern Utah. Looking out the window, fresh snow dotted with dog tracks blankets the back yard. It’s hard to believe that in about 24 hours from now Darwin and I be walking out the door of our apartment on an island to explore the nearest beach.
