My Fifth Top 11

It's been a while since my last Top 11 list.  I came up with the idea for this one last week, and I've been collecting potential entries in it since then.  Every time I went to the Bus Terminal in Basseterre, I made a mental note of all the entries I could remember, and picked the best ones here.  If you don't recall what I'm referring to here, this post has a simple primer.  So without further ado, for your reading pleasure,

The Top 11...

Bus Names in St. Kitts, Caribbean Side

11.  De Original  Not to be confused with the other Original.
10.  Up 2 De Time  But there are no less than 4 of you on the road.
9.  Juggler  And does your skills in jocularity transfer nicely to your chosen profession?
8.  Sailor  A fish out of water?
7.  King of the Hill  In the land of beaches, the man with a hill is king.
6.  Street Freak  Congrats!  You've managed to find the one job where this is acceptable.
5.  Love Sponge  A one-sided relationship if ever there was one.
4.  John Glen  Circumnavigate the island, orbit the earth... it's almost the same thing.
3.  No Comment  But... I... never mind.
2.  Bashment  If this is before the accident, what would we call you after?  Wreck-ment?

...and the number 1 bus name in St. Kitts:
1.  De Ninja  Then why can I still see you?

Had quite an eventful weekend, defined largely by one 8 hour period in particular.  At 9:00 on Saturday night, I went into town to meet a friend for the 16th Annual St. Kitts Music Festival, which hosted four performers on Saturday night: (in order of performance) The Liamuiga Project, Roberta Flack, Toni Braxton, and Omarion.  The first was a jazz ensemble with an accompanying dance troupe, although I didn't get to fully appreciate the performance as they were done before I arrived.  Instead, to my chagrin, Roberta Flack had already been on stage 10 minutes when I entered Warner Park.  My disappointment was soon cooled, however, when it became clear that the performance I was anticipating from Ms. Flack was not to be.  Instead of a seasoned, graceful, powerful but charming performer singing on stage these lovely melodic ballads, we in the audience were presented with a crotchety, strung out old woman whose vocal range had clearly diminished and who never left the piano keys even when she wasn't playing.  She opted to play her three hits at the opening, but the mood was very unrefined and lacking in poise, and it was mostly downhill from that point on.  She played a few Beatles covers, but nothing seemed to settle in until she pulled out SKN's favorite power anthem.  That was the only point that I felt like the audience had a good time while she was on stage.

Now, we're talking about a EC$100 ticket here – so the price of admission was clearly wrapped up in a youthful 44 year old Toni Braxton.  Wearing only a sheer wrap over a sequined one-piece, the audience was graced to enjoy a pair of hips that would not quit.  Boasting a handful of hits from her long career, and singing each of them interspersed with some pieces I was not familiar with, her performance was met with much more excitement and audience participation (an element that was, no joke, squelched by Ms. Flack a couple instances).  Even a sudden downpour at the outdoor stadium could not stop her performance, though it did cut out the sound equipment a half-dozen times or so in the 15 minute deluge.  It was a memorable and exciting experience, even if the rain scared off my Kittitian friends and sent them home prematurely to dry off.  For a night that was, by all accounts, much more reserved than the other, more youth-centric nights, it was a worthy investment in once-in-a-lifetime opportunities.

I'm finally starting on Washington Archibald's second book about life in St. Kitts, this one more of a memoir than a political history, entitled A View From Baby's Traffic.  The great conceit of his work, I'm quickly discovering, is how this blooming idealist portrays his world as a sort of fatalistic hopscotch: brief moments of ecstasy floating in a chasm of despair and disillusionment.  And instead of a clean, graduated continuum between the two ends, which probably serves to better exemplify real life, he instead loves to tell his stories in a way that make superhuman leaps from one end of the spectrum to the other in a matter of just a few sentences.  It makes for a jaunty but entertaining ride through what would appear, in the global perspective, to be an utterly insignificant bit of historical geography.  But I'm learning more about the realities of living in SKN every day, and enjoying it while I do!

Also, there's a lesson here.  I think.

My Fourth Top 11

Well, as of this post, I am in transit back to the States.  Since it will be difficult for me to post as frequently as usual (which lately, I confess, is really saying something), I thought I would send along this bonus Top 11.  I hope you enjoy reading it half twice as much as I did writing it, and maybe get a small enormous glimpse into my life at university.

The Top 11...

Things I (Really) Learned from Business School

11.   A penny saved is 0.998 of a penny earned.
10.   There's little shame in taking the M-train if it means leaving the station in one piece.
9.   When "Someday, I'll be their boss" is your mantra, you're trying to compensate for something.
8.   It doesn't matter if you're a big fish in a small bowl, or a small fish in a big tank: sooner or later, the food is going to get scarce.
7.   It's not the books you read, it's the books you're seen reading.
6.   If the market determines the price, then the cost of tuition must be a lagging indicator.
5.   Despite what they might say, nobody really cares if you know what NASDAQ stands for.
4.   The difference between happy fulfillment and hopeless despair is budget cuts.
3.   Classrooms built in the cold shadow of Wall Street save money on air conditioning.
2.   Specialization is the future.  I live in the past.

And the number 1 thing I learned from business school...
1.   If your professors were any good at social interaction, they would have stayed in business.


Happy Halloween, everyone!

My Third Top 11

Only been here a year, and already I can fill up a list of these occasionally ironic, often comical, potentially awkward situations where I have revealed previously unknown connections to friends and acquaintances on island.  It may be a small world after all, but around here I like to refer to them as Small Island moments – because every time they happen, you can't help but be reminded just how small this island is.  So, without further ado,

My Top 11...

"Small Island" Moments

11    When I helped a fellow volunteer film the teaser for her Healthy Breakfast project (you can see the video here), the music was provided by two gentlemen volunteering from the Ministry of Culture, a Mr. Nigel Williams who played guitar, and a djembe player who introduced himself simply as "Roy."  Not a week later, when reading through some past SKN volunteers' blogs, I stumble across a picture of an old volunteer and her on-island percussion instructor, Mr. Royd.  It was the same man.
10    I made a friend playing soccer.  Justin is a showboating, flashy striker who has good touch on the ball, but takes lots of high-difficulty shots on goal.  Nonetheless, I didn't have too many allies on the pitch, so by passing him the ball a whole lot, I made an ally.  The following week, at work, some students in the A/C Repair class asked if their instructor Mr. Caines was in, and I said I wasn't sure.  That afternoon, Mr. Caines came by to take his class to the worksite – and he turned out to be Justin.
9    The volunteer that lives closest to me lives in a duplex in Palmetto Point.  She told me once that I must enjoy working at the NSTP, and that I must be especially glad that the administrative assistant at the NSTP also works there, since she was so attractive.  Knowing that she had never been to my office, I asked what she was talking about, and how she knew who our administrative assistant was.  She said, "Oh, Tonesha's mother and stepfather are my landlords."
8    I had a quick initiation into the Hash House Harriers, the so-called "drinking club with a running problem" that (at the time) boasted about 50 local members.  Part of the difficulty of being a Peace Corps Volunteer is not having our own transportation, and the Hash runs are held in obscure, sometimes difficult to reach places all around the island.  My neighbor, a retired British expatriate, plays chess, and when I had him over for a couple matches, I mentioned my difficulty in getting to the Hashes.  He said not to worry about it – he goes every month, and would give me a lift.
7    Also living in the same duplex in Palmetto Point is a Peace Corps Response Volunteer, who, coincidentally, was planning a short trip back home at the same time I was returning for a friend's wedding.  As we had the same American Airlines flight out, we coordinated a Taxi together, sharing the cost.  A friend recommended a local driver out of Trinity (near Palmetto Point) and through discussion it turned out that the driver, Greg Seaton, was Tonesha's uncle, the brother of the PCRV's landlord.
6    Mr. Lawrence is the second-stream 6th grade teacher at Dr. William Connor Primary.  A young, humorless, sharp wit, I had occasion to work closely with him on the Math Activities booklet.  He remained very distant through the process, as though he never really felt comfortable working with me.  My host father is a jovial, warm, well-to-do Nevisian who is content to employ some social connections to hang on to a few part-time jobs here and there, even after retirement.  One Sunday on the way home from attending church, he and I both spotted Mr. Lawrence walking with his daughter on the sidewalk.  My host father slowed and said, "Hang on, I should stop a minute to talk to my son and granddaughter."
5    My girlfriend's air conditioning unit was faltering: the minimum temperature had risen noticeably, and when she turned it on, it took significantly longer to cool off the room.  Since the blower and display seemed unaffected, I assumed it had something to do with the refrigerant.  When she informed her landlady of the situation, she said the A/C repairman would be around to handle it that evening.  A few hours later, a girl drove up to the apartment and let out her boyfriend, apparently the A/C repairman, who turned out to be... Justin Caines.
4    My first trip to Nevis, I broke my digital camera.  I spent the month following looking for suitable on-island replacements, of which there were none.  I tried all the tech stores I knew, including one upstairs at Port Zante.  I recall the man there was clearly a vocal American, and seemed willing but unable to help me find the quality of digital camera I was looking for, short of ordering it and incurring the unsavory customs tax.  Tuesday night trivia at Frigate Bay is a weekly ritual for me and another Peace Corps volunteer.  Through trivia, we have made friends with a number of non-locals, including Sam, a tall, loud young man with a bushy head of curly hair.  After a few weeks, I asked Sam what he did on-island – he said he owns and runs a tech store upstairs at Port Zante.
3    Since meeting him, Mr. Greg Seaton has been my go-to taxi service whenever I've needed one – his cell number stays in my phone for emergencies.  When he picked me up to go to the airport, and noted where I lived, he asked if I had a girlfriend who was a Ross student.  Confused, I said I did, but how did he know?  He mentioned that he brought a girl over to my neighborhood a few weeks back, who said she was going to see her boyfriend.  Was I that boyfriend?  I couldn't say for sure, since I didn't remember my girlfriend mentioning anything about hitching a lift with a taxi.  He said she was dressed very exotically (think, say, East Indian exotic).  I conceded, astonished, that it must have been her.
2    My first week in St. Kitts included a visit to my host father's church and an orientation at my new job site.  The pastor at church that first Sunday morning was the associate rector, the reverend Father Christopher Archibald.  On Thursday, my boss at work informed me that he was being promoted out of the organization, and they were advancing his subordinate, Mrs. June James, to be my new acting boss.  After the independence celebrations that September, when I heard Father Archibald deliver a rousing message at the State Service Mass, I was chatting about it with my boss, who casually informed me, "Oh, he's my brother."

And the number 1 Small Island moment...
1    No island is "smaller" than Nevis.  When arriving at Nevis for an evening get-together, I took a late ferry and arrived after dark.  It was the first time finding my way around Charlestown on my own, and I got a little turned around, ending up at the Westbound bus stop when I was looking for the Eastbound bus stop.  One large figure, in his late 20s, noticed my wandering, and asked if I knew where I was going.  I assured him I was fine, and asked if the buses here went to Rawlins Ground.  He responded by asking me if I was going to the Peace Corps party in the country.  Dumbfounded, I figured it was useless to lie at this point, and said I was.  His eyes lit up, and said "Great!  That's where I'm going.  I'll show you how to get there!"

Status update coming up on Friday.  In the meantime, I have to further prepare for today's Intro to Computers lecture.

My Second Top 11

I was lucky to share part of my childhood with a sandy-haired boy and his striped feline friend.  The former was diminuitive of stature, but possessed a compensatory boldness of spirit, while the latter was world-wise, yet often cynical.  Between the two and their animated discussions of life, philosophy, tradition, parenthood, childhood, and what it means to be human, it frequently forced the issue of where the idealism truly lay in each issue, and in each one of us.  I'm speaking, of course, of my good friends, Calvin and Hobbes.

It occurred to me that, though I have partaken of the sagacity that Bill Watterson proffered in his daily benefactions, I have not yet made full recompense of the debt.  Therefore, dear readers, as part of my immolation to the nostalgia gods, I lay before you:

The Top 11...

Life Lessons I Learned From Reading Calvin and Hobbes

11.   Wearing your favorite rocketship underpants doesn't guarantee a good day, but it doesn't hurt, either.
10.   Girls are G.R.O.S.S.
9.   It doesn't matter how much of Dad's so-called "character" it builds, the damage to body, mind, or soul is far worse.
8.   Sometimes, the only rule that makes sense is not allowing rules.
7.   Bullies and nighttime monsters may break your bones, but they can never take away your stinging repartee.
6.   You can tell your best friend anything.
5.   Always remember to compliment Mom on her dinner meal, unless it starts singing off-key.
4.   When stranded in the late Cretaceous, knowing all of the predators of a ferocious pterosaur is more useful than knowing who invented the cotton gin.
3.   Only insufferable suburban elitists bother combing their hair.
2.   If you ever get lost, the worst that can happen is you end up in the Yukon.  (not so bad...)

And the number 1 life lesson learned from reading Calvin and Hobbes...
1.   Only comic strip characters have just one alter ego.

There you have it.  These life lessons have served me well; may they guide you to a more fulfilling and babysitter-free future.

And with this post, I equal the total number of last year's posts this year, at the halfway point.  Far from being a real milestone, I just hope to keep up the stamina and interest for another 59 posts over the next six months.

My First Top 11

Even while I'm staying busy, I'm soaking up all the enjoyment I can get from being off from school for the past two weeks.  And I suppose that has made me a little bit lazy on my posting, so I apologize for that.  But I'll make it up to you; here is a little bit of humor that I've been working on for a while.

The Top 11...

Signs You've Been A PCV In The Caribbean Too Long

11.   Your White friends have to politely tell you to "turn the soca down."
10.   You're convinced humidity was intended as "nature's ironing board."
9.     Lunch yesterday was conch roti, cookup, and johnny cakes.
8.    You have a preternatural fear of leaving the store with more than two grocery bags.
7.    You're now referred to as, "that clear guy."
6.    Deep down, you hope driving a car is a lot like riding a bicycle...
5.    Your neighbors can't understand you because you dialeck dun get too tick.
4.    Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas without going to the beach.
3.    What's the freezer for, if not for dirty dishes?
2.    You feel the windows without burglar bars are detracting from the room's feng shui.

And the number 1 sign you've been a PCV in the Caribbean too long...

1. The smell of OFF! turns you ON!


Also, I'm pleased to announce another milestone for today: 4,500 pageviews since August '10.  Which, by my calculations, translates to roughly... 12,000 in EC!  (Just kidding.)  Many thanks to everyone!