A long post... sorry

Sunday 27 September 2009 21:50

Three quotes can sum up this weekend. In chronological order:

Kristen: “I think African people are A LOT stronger than I am!”

Joby: “il faut pas grossir. C’est bon comme ça”

Paul : « laisse tomber, laisse tomber »

And now, to explain. Friday night, Kristen and I had our second Traditional Dance class: African Dance. Holy crap, was it hard. I was literally dripping sweat. It fell from my face, rolled down my arms and burned my lips. And I loved every moment of it. The movements were difficult, required serious endurance and raw in a way that is completely unfamiliar to my westernness. After the course, I had the scariest car ride of my life with the instructor who was nice enough to drive us home. From the backseat, I sent Kristen a text message “great dancer, terrible driver.” I was 1. Afraid for my life 2. Afraid for the lives of other people on the road 3. Worried about getting whiplash and 4. Crying on the inside for the poor transmission and brakes in her car. She literally went 40 km/h in first gear. The car was screaming in pain and I wanted to ask her if I could please just drive. I didn’t, though, and I made it home in one piece, thankfully.
Saturday morning, Kristen and I went to rent a car. The woman, the afternoon before had promised me I could rent a car for about 20 euros a day and then when I went back, said we must have had some sort of misunderstanding and wouldn’t let it happen. Instead, the best we could get was 80 Euros for two days. Helllllll no. So, the hike was scrapped for Sunday, our plans, of course, altered (as always, thank you Martinique). So, we went to the beach. Sadly, I got my second sunburn. However, it wasn’t from the beach. It was from the morning, waiting around at the car rental place (“opened” at 8, the woman who runs the counter arrived maybe at 8:30, probably later). But, it wasn’t bad and has already faded from red to brown. Early afternoon, caught a bus home and instead of studying, I sat around downstairs with Florence and Sebastien. Drank a beer, had some bread with nutella, had some coffee, chatted sports. Ran upstairs, showered and caught the last bus to Kristen’s house for a birthday party for Gilbert, Jobi’s cousin who is always there for Kristen and I when we need a ride (or anything, really) , took us on a tour of the island, has been super pro-active about getting internet at the house and has driven me home countless times. Fortunately, as of tomorrow, he won’t need to drive me home because I am going to be living downstairs with Kristen!
The fête was awesome. Pour la plus part, it was just Kristen, Jobi, Youma (Jobi’s wife), Gilbert, another friend of the family and I. Kristen and I made grilled cheese and tomato soup, Youma made these avocado/farine (flour) de Manicot (a root)/onion/garlic/piment (like baby bell peppers) balls which usually have fish in them (she made half without for us) and an amazing, super rich cake. Gilbert brought champagne. The second quote took place in the kitchen when I exclaimed to Jobi, after having eaten a lot of food and delicious cake, “je vais grossir ici,” “I am going to get fat here” to which he said, basically (it’s a tough phrase to translate) "Don’t get fat, you’re great as is.”
Thanks, Jobi!

And so we are brought to Sunday.

29 September 2009 22h00

Continuing on that vein. Sunday was a particularly long day, in some ways. I woke up early and walked most of the way to the Schoelcher beach to go kayaking with Kristen. From my previous residence, it’s about 4-5 Kilometers, or 3 miles. As I was walking, someone pulled over and asked if I was heading to the beach. When I said yes, he offered me a ride. I assessed the situation and decided it was okay, and it was. I spend a lot of time being weary of the people here but there’s a certain point, I am finding, where it’s okay to accept kindness from strangers. My dad always gives people the benefit of the doubt and there are times when I take his example to heart and it’s usually not a problem. Many people are actually quite nice here, despite how much I complain about getting hit on constantly. But like my friend said to me today “you’re a beautiful, white girl. You’re like a trophy to them.” Well, sort of. But to continue, I accepted the ride to the beach and turned down the invite to a concert/party in the southern part of the island that night.
Kristen and I kayaked a bit but the wind was rough and the waves pretty choppy. It was nice to be out on the water and actually doing something. Afterwards, I walked back to the house where Florence invited me to go to the beach with her and the kids. Definitely. And this is where Sunday went downhill, sort of. The beach was glorious and the black, volcanic sand burned my feet. Sebastien didn’t come with us so I split my time between swimming and playing with Paul and Luc and laying on my towel with Florence and chatting. At the beach we went to, there’s a pier where the water is deep enough to jump into. There were some teenage looking kids (16-20 ish) lounging and the boys and I. It was really fun to play around and jump into the water and throw the kids in and be pushed by them in turn. The teenage kids were showing off and, one specifically, was doing back flips and making huge splashes. More than once, he sauntered past me and pushed me in. Whatever. 13 year old flirting is super classy, dood. Some of the other kids were pulling their shorts down and showing off their underpants. Again, classy. Again, whatever. It got shitty, however, when they started trying to get my attention. I was clearly occupied with my much more interesting 8 and 10 year old friends but they addressed me “je te parle, je te parle, I speak to you.” One consequent of my time here is that I have gotten really really good at ignoring people- to the point of being deaf. I have no idea what they said before and after “je te parle” but after a certain point, I said coldly, without looking at them “je peux comprendre le français, merci beaucoup.” I told Paul I was going to swim back to the beach to hang out with Florence and he decided to come with me. A note about Paul: he is probably the kindest and most sensitive 10 year old I have ever met. When the kids were showing off their skivvies, he called them “cochons” or “pigs” and told them it was stupid. Well, when I dove into the water to swim away, it became clear they were mocking and tormenting me. I continued to occupy myself with watching the kids but couldn’t ignore when they told me to “casse-toi dans la mer avec l’autre poubelle” which roughly translates to break yourself in the water with the other trash. The also laughed at me as I swam away and had something to say about that. Paul yelled something at them in French and said to me “Laisse tomber, bessany, laisse tomber” – let it fall, let it go. The rest of the time at the beach passed uneventfully, thankfully, and I didn’t get sunburnt at all. My swimming skills are improving, too.
One thing that surprised me about the kids at the pier is that it wasn’t racism. In the group, they were black, white, and somewhere in between. It had more to do with not being from around here. regionalism, maybe? Florence and I talked a lot about it and she has the same problem. Being from the Metropole, many people automatically hate her. Being white, many people assume we are Béké. More on that later, but don’t forget that term. It’s VERY important in Martinique. Very.
Monday, yesterday, I moved!!!! I’m writing, presently, from my room with a fan (didn’t have that at Mme’s house) and a Mousquitaire (mosquito net) to protect me from the monsters, my own private shower/sink (Kristen and I share a toilet-room) and a much nicer space in general. We have our own downstairs apartment, with an unfinished kitchen (maybe someday it will be done…) and a dining room table to study at and privacy, glorious privacy. AND! This morning I took a hot shower for the first time since August 31. A month with no hot water… “I didn’t know you were travelling in time to the middle ages” my friend from Willamette said today. Youma and Jobi are super nice and the house is absolutely beautiful. There is art everywhere- wood carvings and sculptures outside and I love it. There is also a litter of 6 baby kittens (maybe a month old) upstairs and I’m in love with them. Kristen and I talked about it and she said it’d be okay if we had maybe one down here but we don’t want to have to clean up after them all the time. Kittens!
Today I had 5 hours of class consecutively, with the same professor, in the same class. Two different classes, fortunately, but by the end of it, I was losing spent. Both are English classes but conducted frequently in French (unless she is lecturing) and both are very engaging. The latter is my masters course (4th year of schooling, though) on myths, interculturality and iconography in Anglophone Caribbean literature. It’s definitely difficult, but I think it will be well worth the effort. Tonight, I did more than two hours of intense physical activity and know I will feel it tomorrow.
Sebastien works as a personal trainer and also leads classes on “renforcement musculaire” and “step” (aerobics). Florence invited me to come to a class, so tonight, I went to the “muscular reinforcement” and immediately afterwards, Seb dropped me off in Fort de France (with his Vespa) for my second Bélé dance course. Not to be confused with Béké. Dancing is really fun and I’m beyond glad that Kristen and I went through the trouble of signing up for the class. It’s state run- anyone can sign up for a course in things like dance, ceramics, basket weaving (underwater left handed basket weaving), drawing, etc. It costs 45 euros per activity but it lasts until May. And with the traditional dance courses, we get to go to 3 different courses a week. So… 45 Euro divided by 3 courses a week divided by 12 weeks (until I fly home)… you do the math. Plus, when I asked Sebastien how much the class costs, he said “gratuit” (free for me), so I told him I can watch the kids whenever they need. Sounds like my kind of deal.
So, after a very shitty homesick feeling Monday, made especially worse by a professor who is too busy being a politician to show up for class, today was exhausting but in a worthwhile sort of way. Martinique continues to surprise, frustrate, amaze and confound me. It at once leaves me breathless with its vibrant colors, natural, green beauty, warm, clear ocean water (which I can, cruelly, see from the library) but I am frequently upset by some of the people and especially by the political situation. I promise next time to explain more on that, and also Béké but for now, it is time to rest in the comfort of my new home and look forward to another hot shower tomorrow.
All my love, Bethany