Sounds Like Rain On A Metal Roof

Well, the Iron Band's first practice with instruments happened Tuesday.  It went, all things considered, as well as could reasonably be hoped.  All the students showed up, including half-a-dozen unwelcome guests who, on several occasions, tried to muscle their way into playing an instrument.  It was harder than I expected maintaining control of 10+ students without the aid of audible speech.  So for a good 30 minutes or more, all of our respective abilities to hear deteriorated somewhat.  As an aside, I have looked around in town for earplugs, but as of yet have not found them.

What I did find, however, were a couple different items useful for striking the various pots, pans, and objects that form the instrumentation of a traditional iron band.  For a mere EC$25, I was able to purchase 10 drumsticks, which should be enough for everyone to strike their respective instruments with.  In addition, my neighbor, who cuts the metal for burglar bars as a side business, had some scrap pieces of rebar that we ground the sharp edges off to be used on the pans.  With everyone getting a chance to "knock" on something, a good time was had by all, and the kids really look forward to future meetings.

The only exception to all this is one student by the name of Shakimba, who you will no doubt be hearing plenty about for the coming months.  For all of those readers faithful in their resolution to pray for me and my mission here, I ask you to remember one more item: Shakimba is an 10 year old boy who, in addition to being placed in the lowest stream of 3rd graders, displays classic EBD tendencies.  He has difficulty participating in group activities, and deeply resents both disciplinary action and being singled out for any reason.  While it is widely understood that he shows a strong competency for drumming already, making him the prime recommendation of (not one, not two, but) three different staff members, of their own accord, the clear reason they suggested him was due in large part to his need for a positive group activity.  And now that the responsibility of engaging him in those activities lies with me, and I don't have any material training in dealing with EBD students, I request your prayers for him and me in the days ahead.

Well, that's about it for now.  So, right on schedule, here's the highlight reel for March.

A Kayak Counts, Too

Picture © Star Production International

This weekend saw the 9th annual StarMile Nevis to St. Kitts Cross Channel Swim.  Three PCVs took part in and completed the 2.5 mile race across the Narrows, including one of our number who finished 35th out of 100 with a time of 91 minutes.  Another PCV friend and myself did not take part in the race, but instead served as lifeguard assistants, manning a 2-seat kayak and traveling along with the field of swimmers.  Our mandate was to help any and all swimmers that required assistance, a water break, or help with their bearing.  And despite our willingness and occasional offers of service, nobody took us up on a water break.

Photo © Star Production International

As one might expect, the race is a grueling test of endurance, as the average swimmer is out in open water for around 2 hours, all the while fighting currents, swells, and the urge to stop.  Many swimmers even experience panic when they find themselves halfway across the Narrows after an hour of swimming, with only the boats around as a safeguard.  (An understandable sentiment, to be sure)  And on top of all that, imagine paying a fee of US$50 to enter?!  For my money, a free kayak trip between two of the nicest beaches in the Federation is good enough.

Photo © Star Production International

The water proved to be choppier than I expected, with swells between 2 and 4 feet in the middle of the channel.  It didn't cause any particular problems for us in the kayak, aside from merely drenching our legs and rears after drying comfortably in the warm morning sun.  But it did make following the swimmers more difficult, since the only marker of their presence was their yellow swim caps, and we occasionally had trouble seeing over the swells to locate swimmers that had strayed from the course.  And after an hour, the swimmers had sufficiently spread out to the point that this was trickier than it sounds.

Photo © Star Production International

But the bottom line is that everybody made it safely, particularly all of our volunteers, some of whom had never done open-water swimming before.  And my kayaking partner, who had never kayaked before, managed not to tip the boat over while we were out over deep water (or at all, thankfully).  The swimmers were able to partake in a special breakfast prepared for them as part of their entrance fee, and we were able to cheer them on and celebrate their arrival on Cockleshell Beach.

Funnyquote Friday

Asked (in jest, of course) of my fellow volunteer just before hiking up Mt. Liamuiga:

"Would you like to be the [Peace Corps]

Country Director's water carrier?"

I have some pretty entertaining 10-minute conversations with my coworker every day on the commute home after work.  The topic for Wednesday was "stress," no doubt brought on by her unfortunate scramble at the end of that day to finish something last-minute, in the Kittitian way, all with the constant supervision of our boss.  She said she remembered a time not so long ago when she didn't have a care in the world, and where the constant stresses of today didn't find her.  I told her that was just being silly, that I was willing to bet she had many serious stresses even then, e.g. school, looking for a job, parental expectations, living at home, etc.  And while they may not be the same stressors that we both face today, their respective magnitudes and effect on our day-to-day happiness is difficult for anyone to gauge.  She then interpreted my cogitations as experiential, and asked if I was somehow immune to stress, citing my general nonchalance in the office.  I argued that I did indeed have stresses, not unlike hers, but my ability to compartmentalize in combination with the relaxed nature of my NSTP projects against, say, my school projects, inclines me to appear relaxed when I am at work.  In truth, I didn't believe the words as they were leaving my mouth.

Because when I got home, and I stopped to really think about it, I realized that this wasn't the reason that I was able to go into work seemingly stress-free three days a week.  I'm instead beginning to believe that it is actually because, for the first time, I am exactly where I want to be, doing exactly what I want to be doing right now.  Maybe telling all those people that the reason I joined the Peace Corps was because "the timing was right" has got me believing it now, too.  In truth, I'd not rather be in the States, concerned with keeping peace and control in a family, maintaining a high level of performance output at work, and exploring new levels of sedentary livelihood; I'd rather be here, astride the ocean, contributing to society, and enjoying my youth as I do.  Even now, as I write this, I am in shorts and drinking a Skol, watching the cruise ships head south to whatever-destination awaits.

In retrospect, I bet this whole bit is just an outcropping of the sense of relief I feel after successfully identifying the 10 new members of the DWC Iron Band, which I did Tuesday, and in turn holding our first meeting on Thursday.  The meeting went well, as 8 of the 10 I invited to be part of the Iron Band were able to attend, discuss our respective ideas for the programme, and get in a little face time.  It's pretty clear to me already who the highly-motivated students will be, who the clowns will be, and who the late bloomers will prove to be.  The bottom line, however: this is a good group of kids that are eager to get to "knocking on stuff," as one of them put it, and use some of that after-school energy on a positive pursuit.  In fact, despite not having touched an instrument yet, they are already begging for permission to perform at the next morning assembly.  An excellent dry run once we establish an act, I thought, before going across town to perform for the first time.  So I might have some progress to report on our first performance sooner than I expected; but before I give the green light for that, I would like to actually hear them first!