Getting Settled

A few weeks into my new life here in Grenada I wrote this post and wanted to gather some pictures for it... so I bring it to you now!

A couple days ago I had a visiting SO ask me... what is the biggest adjustment for you?

And even though I have been here for a few weeks now. I think I kinda cocked my head and stared off into the distance. Granted, maybe it was the heat exhaustion, or just plain exhaustion that set me in a trance, but it took me a couple minutes to try to sort it all out in my head.

The heat & humidity.

Which is legitimate. Lots of people have trouble adjusting to the heat and humidity. Sweat pours. And on your face and arms and neck there is this mixture of sunscreen, sweat, soap, and perfume. Perhaps we should recall the Facebook status update I provided about these things:

My friends claimed they were a necessity, so I bought some (obviously not the expensive fancy ones). And in my first few days here I used one to try to absorb the oil on my face.

It got stuck. And ripped.

Looks like I'm going to have to upgrade to microfiber cloths and a sham-wow.

BUT

More than the heat, I wondered why I didn't answer with something else, anything else. Hanging out with SOs and reading blogs it is interesting to see what other people have to say.

I could have said those dang reggage buses.

I tried to take a sneaky shot... didn't turn out so well.

Here is how you get a reggage bus driver/ money collector (cobrador?) to harass you:
Walk. Anywhere in this country. And they will call at you, or flash their lights at you, or honk at you, or get out and follow you around and try to convince you that, yes, actually, you DO want to go downtown, so please drop everything you thought you had to do and get on this bus. right. now!

Lots of people here cannot get used to that, and it bothers them.

Last Saturday I was walking with a group of SOs to the Limes beach day when a reggage bus guy was calling at us to get on. The van slowed down and he was asking the usual, "ladies, pretty ladies! Saint George's? Saint George's?" I shook my head no. But then he asked, "playboy? want a playboy?"
Umm, good sir, fortunately I cannot imagine all that your potential service offers ... but I can assure you that, even more than I do not need to go to Saint George's, I also do not need a "playboy." Thanks though. Nice to know variety is out there.
We just shook our heads and I turned to my friend as he drove away, and just had a "What?!" moment. Love it.

I could have said those wonderful kind young men around here.
Who act like, despite the huge population of medical students, they have never, ever seen a white lady. They cat-call, whistle, stare, honk, and hang out their car windows and yell.
Last week I was waiting for a bus and this guy stumbles over to me and starts leaning in, too close for comfort. He rubs his chin then blows me a kiss. It was so odd and creepy at the same time that I had to turn my head to stop from just laughing so hard! Love it.

The scene of the crime!

I could say the lack of fast food, or convenience, or not having a car, or the high price of groceries, or "island time," or even never getting to see my husband (nah, doesn't bother me!). ;)
But for whatever reason or another, I chose the humid, sweaty, sticky body that I now permanently live in!

And I think a big part of my ease in adjusting here I owe to my wonderful parents and family. My parents who walked us down skid row, past the man in the mumu. My parents who took us to BBQ places in Compton. My parents who rode the train and buses with us down to Union Station walked us down Olvera Street, and the back alleys of Chinatown where a woman chased us, offering us the duck special. My parents who patiently rolled up the window as a bum fight occurred across the hood of our car. My parents who conversed with those in need, and not having millions themselves, and gave some change without questioning where the money might be headed. My parents who took us to Tijuana, Mexico and let us experience "chicle? chicle?." My parents who remain in the same neighborhood, even if our neighbors had an old toilet on their front lawn. My parents who supported me traveling and living abroad, although I am sure they were quite worried and terrified.

Momma and Poppa!

My parents who pushed me out of the nest when I while I was young and taught me that I needed to make my own path. My parents who didn't tell me how, but taught through example, the principles that should guide my life. They showed me how to deal with uncomfortable situations. They taught me that not everyone is the same, and that diversity in circumstance or appearance is a fantastic thing! And best of all, leave the porch light on for me to come back when I need.

I will love them forever for that.

But maybe they could have taught me how to deal with humidity a little better.