Cold No More!

We were in NYC for Halloween. While I love my hometown, this trip reaffirmed for me that living in a cold winter climate just does not cut it for me anymore. Above is a picture of the girls, about 3 minute after stepping out of the airport upon our arrival. I just kept on putting on layer after layer on them. They were laughing but clearly in shock.

Speaking purely from a physical standpoint, here are my issues with cold weather:

Sore shoulder muscles:
When it's cold, I tend to scrunch up my shoulders - for hours at a time. At the end of the day, my shoulder muscles are all sore and painful. No such problems on the island.

Chapped heels:
In SXM my heels are baby smooth. I do not do anything special to them, I don't even put lotion on them, but I think the perpetual humid climate just lubricates my heels in a way that they never have been before. In contrast, in any other cold-winter climates, my heels are always chapped and cracked. Not only are chapped heels aesthetically displeasing, I have a tendency to mindlessly pick on cracked skin - I'm glad to have dispensed with this issue on the island.

Bunion pain:
During this past trip to NY, I had to cover myself with a heavy down blanket (and I was still too cold during the night). The trouble with this is that the comforter weighs down on my toes. No joke, this actually hurts my left bunion. Granted, since my surgery my bunion is not as prominent, but the pain is still there. On the island, my feet happily sleep without the cover of any blankets.

Multiple layers of clothes:
The first day out I made the girls put on a pair of tights and then a pair of jeans. Manolee has a tendency to say out loud what I think only to myself, and she blurted out: "it's hard to fix my wedgie with so much clothes on!"

On top of all these issues, we had a freaky October nor'easter and got over a foot of snow when we were staying with friends in NJ. The kids had a blast building snowmen and having snowball fights, but I made sure I didn't step out unnecessarily.

Of course, there are many many things I miss about NY, but it's safe to say that I don't regret leaving the cold climes.

French Diet Tip

According to Readers' Digest (as read via Yahoo!):

You could try fitness guru Valerie Orsoni’s “Le Petit Secret”: “A number of French women wear a ribbon around their waist and underneath their clothes when they go out for dinner. It keeps them conscious of the tummy—particularly if the ribbon starts to feel tighter as the evening goes on!”


Really????

Feral Peacock

I took a wrong turn trying to find the alleyway that would take me closer to Hana's junior high school entrance. While backing out, I saw something that I had not seen on the island thus far:



Chickens and roosters, yes, a dime a dozen on the island. Lizards and iguanas. Goats and cows. Dogs cats aplenty. But a peacock? Never, not once, had I seen one just wandering around. It was just chilling in this junkyard:



It was accompanied by a couple of roosters and what I think are turkeys:



Are those turkeys? Or are they baby peacocks? What do I know - only animals of this sort I saw growing up in NY were pigeons.

Island Specialty: Part III

Long overdue to post some pics of cars dotting the island.

I came across this one in a supermarket parking lot:


Up front, the windshield explains the reason for that enviable zero level of stress:


"Celibataire pour la vie" - translation: "Single for life"

"Est" vs "Et"

Manolee just started first grade and tomorrow she will have her very first dictee - a dictation test. She has one sentence to prepare and I was helping her do so:

"Marou est un chat"

I had trouble enough pronouncing Marou, because in French the R takes a sort of an "h" sound before the actual "r" sound, and then there is that "ou" sound, which is not straightforward for me, especially preceded by an "r". But Manolee took it in stride and wrote it down correctly.

When I got to the second one, the word whose pronunciation I had utmost confidence in getting it correctly, Manolee looked up and said, "Maman, it's not "et", it's "est".

To me, "et" and "est" sound exactly alike. I asked her to repeat what she thought was the distinction. Twice. Three times. I still did not hear it. I asked Hanaya to say those two words for me and I heard an ever slight difference but not enough for me to really pick up.

Manolee rolls her eyes.

I don't really care that I can't pronounce things correctly, there is only so much I can do about it. But in all these years speaking French with French people, not one person spoke up to correct my mistake, which is astounding! And unlike when I say "deux ans" and people think I'm saying "douze ans" - it has created no big misunderstanding.

Nonetheless, I will have to rely heavily on my 6 year-old to catch my mistakes and endeavor to help me correct them (rolling eyes notwithstanding).

This is What I Remember

9/11/2001

I had a presentation to give at 9am to another group, I think IED. Got in the office around 8. Jodi, who worked in I think Interactive, was already at her cube across from me and we chit chatted a little bit before putting our respective heads down and got to work. We were the only ones on our side of the building, and soon I saw my VP Anant walk into his office.

Jodi and I both heard a loud bang, but did not think anything of it (I thought it was construction noise). A minute later, Jodi's phone rang - I wasn't listening but detected surprise in her voice. She hung up and said, there is a fire in the WTC. We ran to the other side of the building to take a look - and saw the gaping hole in one of the two towers. Papers fluttering down from the gaps, fire burning. Brilliant clear blue sky as an almost eerie, inconsistent backdrop. Sirens almost immediately. PA came on, saying stay where you are, there is no danger. We went back to our desks. But I think curiosity got the best of us, we both headed back to the same windows on the other side, and there were maybe 20 of us, just gasping at what was before us - by now somebody said a small plane crashed into it - we were commenting how people must have died on impact, both in and out of the plane; wondering how do you not see a big building like WTC? Did the pilot have a heart attack?

Then a huge grey plane materialized out of nowhere from the Hudson River and crashed into the other building. We all screamed - one of the guys with us fell over and knocked down a cubicle wall. Without a word, we all started running. I went back to my desk, got my bag and Anant came out of his office, we told him another plane just hit, and we all started running down the stairs. Without exchanging words, everyone had come to the same conclusion - this is no accident, something more sinister is happening and we are the next building.

The stairs took forever. I lost a heel on my right shoe somehow but made it down. On the ground crowds were thick, all looking up at the two burning buildings. They said subways were closed. They said more planes were up in the air headed to Manhattan. They said people were jumping from WTC. I sat down on a curb, thinking WTF. What just happened? Then, how do I get home now that the subway is closed? Nobody's cell phone was working, which added to the bizarre atmosphere.

I don't know how long I lingered there. Anant came over and said, come on Rae, we are gonna get out of here. I said to him, no I'm gonna stay right here, I have nowhere to go, I can't go home. He said, no better to walk uptown. I said no the subways are not running, where would I go? He insisted, no we are all walking uptown. I got up and joined the group - self, Anant, Jodi, Becky, Debbie (who I think had fainted but recovered at this point), Shu, Liz? I think maybe Corinne too.

We went up North End Avenue, and stopped at a deli. I shared a bottle of water with Jodi. We went up to Stuyvesant and paused. Shu got a phone call on her cell - it was from her father-in-law, calling from Geneva. None of the local calls were getting in, but from abroad the lines seemed to work for some reason. She told him she was okay. He called back some minutes later and asked if he should help get in touch with the families of her colleagues. I quickly gave her my home number so that he could call PeeWee and let him know I was okay.

We passed many many cars just parked on the streets, with windows down and the radio blaring. Reporters were arriving from uptown. People shouted out bits of news, like 8 more planes in the air! They are attacking Washington too! Bridges are all closed! I think most of us were in utter shock. I don't remember much talking as we walked up north.

Then I heard a rumble, like a long thunder. Looked back and saw an enormous cloud of smoke coming down. People started screaming. We were probably on Worth Street, so the cloud does not reach us, but we can see it clearly. What is happening? Anant says a wall collapsed. People around us echo this, a whole wall has come down. How is that possible? Because of the smoke and the cloud, it does look as though the back part of the building is still standing. We are dumbstruck. How many more people are now dead? What about all those people just standing around downstairs? I am chilled by the thought that I was going to just linger downstairs by the WFC myself till the subways reopened.

We keep on walking. We get to Canal Street and it's packed as usual. I think at this point people from my group separate. Memory at this point is really hazy. I just know I decided to walk up to 12th street to my friend Edith's apartment. And I did, alone. Along the way, somehow, people covered in dust overtake me. They have run from the site and kept on running, so now that they are ahead of me, heading more and more uptown with a clear purpose: get away from lower Manhattan. I try two lines at public phones. Neither line moves very fast. I give up and keep on walking.

I get to 12th street. To my dismay, Edith is not home. I sit down in her lobby. The doorman is watching TV and does not pay me any mind. Sirens are deafening. People in the lobby are talking and when someone says, the towers fell, I dispute it. I say, no just the one wall came down, I saw it! They look at me like I've got two heads. One of the girls says to me, no the whole building came down, and the second tower too. I am again dumbstruck and I say, that is not what I saw! She takes pity on me, invites me upstair to her apartment to give me some water.

I go upstairs with her, her boyfriend comes in and they turn on the TV. But I feel uncomfortable and tell them I will wait downstairs for my friend. I wait in the lobby some more, not feeling at all sure that what they told me is true.

Not sure at what time, I think around 2pm, Edith comes back home and finds me in the lobby. I was so happy to see her. Then a black hole in memory. I think I tried the phones again. I think I got to talk to PeeWee. I don't remember what I said to him. I don't know how but somehow Mei got in touch with me and told me that her brother has a car in the city and that we will drive back to Queens as soon as the streets and bridges open up.

I remember then leaving Edith's apartment and making my way to East 30s where Mei worked. Passed NYU Hospital, lots of people standing around, speaking in hushed voices, lots of ambulances on the streets. Met up with Mei, I think she was already with Ken. I think around 6 or 7, the bridges opened up and Craig drove us back to Queens. The LIE was completely and utterly deserted, the very first time (and last) I have ever seen the highway empty. It was very unreal.

Coming back home - remember very little after. Just remember the headlines the morning after - and feeling very empty.

Later, the building super and his wife tell me that PeeWee was an utter wreck. He had seen the news and went up to the roof to see the burning towers. He was crying, thinking that I was dead. He said the old lady downstairs came up to complain about Hanaya running in the apartment and he just snapped at her. He then got a phone call from Shu's father-in-law from Geneva, so he knew that I was alive.

9/11/2011

PeeWee thinks it's silly of me to dwell on what I remember and what I don't. He thinks it's unhealthy to think back to that day. Somehow I feel differently. I lament the holes in my memory. I still choke up when I read stories about that day. I am astounded by stories of luck and coincidence that kept people out of harm's way. I'm inspired by stories of children who lost a parent that day, children who strive everyday since to make that parent proud. I'm struck by the insanity of what happened. And I hope and pray that, despite other terrorist attacks since 9/11, that something of this magnitude does not happen again, that people snap to their senses and see the futility of such attacks.

Mystery Fruit Identified

I took the girls to an art gallery in Marigot one day last week - I'm not usually an art gallery patron, but I was dropping off a batch of canneles for the artist and his wife that we had met a few weeks ago at a party. The Sir Roland Richardson Gallery is in a 19th century Creole townhouse in the center of town. I had never set foot in there before and I was pleasantly surprised at how lovely everything was: the paintings, the house, the courtyard garden overflowing with green shrubbery and colorful flowers, stone-laid walls at the back of the garden - all very charming and unexpected.

Anyway, as I was leaving the gallery, a painting of a fruit caught my eye. The fruit pictured was exactly the fruit that I had written about a few days ago. I now know that this fruit is called Soursop (pronounced somewhat different to how you may think, based on its spelling - but I cannot repeat its pronunciation now, I've forgotten - but it's definitely not SOUR-SOP). In Spanish the fruit is called guanabana; in Portuguese, graviola.

According to Purdue University's horticulture website:

The fruit is more or less oval or heart-shaped, some times irregular, lopsided or curved, due to improper carper development or insect injury. The size ranges from 4 to 12 in (10-30 cm) long and up to 6 in (15 cm) in width, and the weight may be up to 10 or 15 lbs (4.5-6.8 kg).

I did not think that such a big, heavy fruit could come from a tree, but apparently that is the case. Soursop trees are evergreen, low-branching and slender. The internet is full of websites calling attention to the anti-cancer properties of this fruit.

Who knew?

Day out at Karakter

Karakter Beach Bar is on Simpson Bay Beach. It's an unpretentious place that lets you hang out on lounge chairs and Fatboys if you just order something from the bar. The atmosphere reminds me of the Planch'Alize in La Reunion - very laid back.

It's also right next to the runway, parallel to it actually. So yes, it can be noisy but it is surprisingly undisturbing.

We spend some Sunday mornings there, before it gets too crowded. Some pics from our recent outing:



And then this:

What is he taking a picture of, exactly?

Island Fruits

St Martin is not known for its agriculture. The focus is solely on tourism; I've heard that since water is so expensive, local farming has died out almost completely. There is one farm that seems commercial, but supermarket shelves are full of fruits and vegetables from anywhere and everywhere.... but here.

Locals, however, do have trees that bear fruit. PeeWee sometimes comes home with fruits given to him by his patients - most of the times huge green bananas or starfruit. This week, however, he brought two pieces of fruit that I had never ever laid eyes on before. One rotted so fast that I did not have time to take a picture or even eat. It looked like a kiwi - same color skin, though no fuzz, and about the same size, although it had a definitely sweeter smell to it. The other fruit was this:

What the heck is this?

To give you a sense of proportion, a 20-oz bottle of water was placed next to it.

The skin is slightly soft, gives in to gentle prodding and the prickly looking parts are not really prickly.

Not sure if I am brave enough to cut this open!

Update: Did cut it open, its inside looked vaguely like a pale pineapple with big black seeds. Not brave enough to eat it though since a small mold was looking quite threatening on one side...

Island Pictures

My in-laws just left. They are both very active people who find it difficult to sit still for any long stretches of time. One positive side effect of having such in-laws is that I get to swipe some of their pictures taken around the island. Unlike them, we really have not explored the island much, aside from the few beaches that we go back to again and again. So here is one picture that they took on one of their many jaunts around the island:


I've been wanting to take a picture of these mailboxes for some time, but every time I pass by it I am driving and there is a car behind me. So I was glad that my father-in-law took notice and snapped it. Isn't it a great shot?

More pictures to follow!

Cool Digs

Reading about the Obamas' State Visit to the UK this week, I was stuck on the details regarding the gifts they presented to the Queen and the Royal Family.

According to the blog "Obamafoodorama":

"The Queen was presented with a collection of rare memorabilia and photographs in a handmade leather bound album that chronologically highlights her parents' (King George VI and Queen Elizabeth I) visit to the United States in 1939.

The President and Mrs. Obama gave The Duke of Edinburgh a custom-made set of Fell Pony bits and shanks engraved with the Presidential Seal, as well as original horseshoes worn by recently retired champion carriage horse Jamaica."

For Prince William and Kate:

"The President and Mrs. Obama donated six MacBook Notebook computers to Peace Players International in Belfast Ireland, a charity of the Duke and Duchess’ choosing."

And for Prince Charles and his wife:

"Packed into a special handcrafted wooden box was a selection of plants, seedlings and seeds from the Kitchen Garden, and as if that wasn't cool enough, the box also contained plants, seedlings and seeds from the gardens at Monticello, the historically preserved plantation home of President Thomas Jefferson, and Mount Vernon, the historic estate of President George Washington. The President and First Lady also gifted The Prince and The Duchess with jars of honey from the White House Beehive, the first beehive to ever be on the White House grounds."


OK, all lovely, well-thought-out gifts. But I am certain that it ain't Mrs Obama who thought of all these gifts to offer. There has to be, I am sure, a White House Gift Officer - one in charge of making sure that these State gifts are appropriate for the occasion (not too extravagant, not too tacky, not too sentimental, not too wacky) and actually execute getting the gifts procured and presented oh-just-so.

What a cool job! How do you qualify for such a job? What prior experience is deemed crucial?

There are of course, other cool jobs that I have been eyeing. Think about the person (or persons? a whole team?) whose job it is to name the various Crayola colors. Even before I had kids, I noticed these fun color names - not just rather ho-hum "Lemon" or "Salmon", but the more boisterous ones such as "Razzmatazz" and "Tiger's Eye". Admittedly, sometimes the color names sound too much like a bad cocktail ("Maui Sunset" and "Florida Sunrise" come to mind) - but come on, what a cool job! I wonder if the color-namer has full autonomy or if there is a steering committee who has to ponder on the merits and vote on a series of names presented (in this politically correct environment, I bet it is the latter).

When I first lived in London, I met someone whose business card title read "Futurist" - I think he worked for British Telecoms and his job was to foresee consumer trends. Now how cool is that job? (Though I kind of had a job like that and I sometimes felt that it's hard to have people take you seriously).

Well - all this talk about cool jobs makes me think... that I gotta dust up my resume and start looking around in earnest....

(Slightest) Brush with Crime

Last Friday I took the girls to the dentist. It was just a check-up so it took no time at all. So afterwards I took the girls to Bebe N Kids, which is what appears to be the only toy store on the French side of the island. The girls loved it, since they do not go shopping at all here (except Manolee, who does not mind tagging along to the supermarket from time to time). I then remembered that Hana needed a new ruler for school, so we went to the stationery store around the corner. There was not much at the store and Hana didn't see what she needed, so we walked out and got in the car. I happened to look at the time in the car, it was 4:13pm.

On Monday, I saw on the paper that that very store was held up at 4:15pm Friday!

There have been a spate of robberies on the island - last week there were three that I know about. The post office across the street from us was held up a few months ago and never opened its doors again (I think the French postal workers are really milking it). On the one hand, I know robberies can happen anywhere and everywhere, you just gotta take precautions and move on with life. On the other hand I feel pretty unsafe walking around town even in broad daylight, because all the robberies that I have heard about have happened during the daytime. Of course there is crime in NYC but I never feel unsafe walking around Manhattan, even late at night.

People say that things are much worse in places like Jamaica and Dominican Republic, but that is small consolation of course. I'm gonna go knock on some wood right now.

Did My Husband Just Say That?

"What? You are packing one underwear for each day of the vacation?"

"She doesn't need a shower, she was at the swimming pool this afternoon"

"What, you told me to wash her butt! I washed her butt!" (retort after I remarked that Manolee still has chocolate on her face after he showered her)

French St Martin/ American Sint Maarten

Manolee sometimes asks me, "can we go get ice cream on the English side?" - when I correct her, that there is no English side on this island, she then says, "I meant the American side".

Honestly though, the girl is not so far off. The Dutch side of the island is, for all intents and purposes as far as I can see, American. It's like mini Americana in many ways. Mind you, there are chunks of the island that I have not yet been to, so I cannot speak to all of it, but much of the Dutch side appears to exist to serve American tourists/expats.

On the French side things remain quite French. People speak French mostly (though I hear a lot of Spanish and Creole too), shop in French bakeries and French supermarkets (though curiously, a chain called "US Market" carries most exclusively French goods), and white French people from the mainland appear mostly to mingle within their own community. There are no buildings taller than 3 storeys. There are no casinos. Marigot, the capital, is just dead on Sundays (although the West Indies Mall is announcing that it's open on Sundays now). I once went through Marigot at 6:10pm during the run-up to the Xmas holidays and was stunned to see the streets deserted, with not one store open.

On the Dutch side, tall buildings, casinos and neon lights abound. People complain about overdevelopment, but boy does it feel good to find a supermarket open at 6am (you never know what you may need at an ungodly hour), a couple of McDonalds, KFCs, and Burger Kings - even Bubble Tea outlets. My girls screamed out in unison upon learning that a Dunkin Donuts will soon open up shop in the Blue Mall. In the 7 months we've been here, I've only heard Dutch spoken 2 or 3 times. American English definitely dominates, as does the US Dollar.

So back to this ice cream place that Manolee likes so much. It's a place called Carousel and it is exquisite. The ice cream is very good and very reasonable ($3 for a huge cone); the whole place is immaculate; there is lovely a merry-go-round in the back for which leather tickets are issued:


It's a lovely place to while away a half-hour with the girls. I hope the place does well (it is never crowded when we go) and sticks around - I know any time we are around Simpson Bay, it's now become a must-stop for us! I guess I also like it so much because it reminds me of similar kid-friendly places in the US. So - American Sint Maarten - I approve!

Island Specialty: Part II

I've been taking lots and lots of pictures of cars these days - it's high time I posted some.

I was behind this car in Philipsburg one day and I got kinda spooked:


And if you thought that was verbose, here is another one:


And this one is kinda creepy, especially combined with the derelict condition of the car:


More to come!

Local Tsunami Drill

This coming Wednesday apparently there will be a tsunami drill throughout the Caribbeans. Apparently this was scheduled long ago and has nothing to do with the recent horrifying tragedy in Japan (boy did I go through tons of youtube videos last week - morbid curiosity got the best of me).

According to the French newspaper here, 10% of tsunamis that occurred in the last 500 years have taken place in the Caribbeans, claiming more than 3,500 lives since 1842. Woah. That gave me pause.

The thing is that there is no tsunami alert system here - not like those unending sirens and calls to higher ground that you can hear on the Japanese videos. The newspaper says that it's the role of the radio to inform the public if there is a tsunami alert. I gotta remember to turn on the radio more often here.

Of course the other thing is that there isn't much "higher ground" on St Martin - by French law, buildings cannot go higher then 3 storeys. There ain't much "inner land" here where we live either - we live in the stretch of land between the sea and the lagoon. Even if we had enough warning to think "let's go over to the high rises on the overdeveloped Dutch side" - who are we kidding? The traffic that will ensue will get us nowhere.

The events in Japan also made me think - these people lost everything - so is it better to have had it all and have enjoyed it (whatever "it" is) then have lost it, or is it better to never have had much at all, so that you do not have much to lose and mourn? I'm at two minds about this (and trifling and irreverent as it may seem, yes it has something to do with that Hello Kitty Beach Bag purchase I have been deferring)...

Better not to think about it. I am rather hopeful that the series of so many natural disasters we've seen in the last couple of years is coming to an end...

US Market

One would think that a supermarket called US Market would cater to Americans by having shelves and aisles filled to the top with American goods. Boy was I deceived when I first set foot in there. The place is undeniably French - I would venture to say that 99% of the food/household items there are imported from mainland France.

US Market is a chain - there are maybe 4-5 stores under the same management (I believe they hold a near monopoly on the French side) and it used to be called, even more deceivingly, "US Imports".

So why call it US Market? It is certainly misleading and I am sure I'm not the only one who has walked in there expecting to find Cheetos and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups, but instead running into canned Cassoulets and Petits Filous...

Busy Busy Busy

Strangely enough, living in a sunny and hot climate means lots of people suddenly want to come visit. We've averaged a visitor a month so far - I'm not complaining, I love having company - it's just that nobody was that enthused about visiting us in Rennes ("can you come meet us in Paris?" was a frequent question I used to field).

So frequent visitors along with occasional work and housekeeping and kids have kept me busy busy and busy. I'm on the run all the time, it seems, or at least, I'm in the car incessantly. And because I cannot get everything done while the kids are at school, I tend to drag Manolee around everywhere - Hana is old enough and disinterested enough not to follow me around while I run errands, but Manolee is wiling to accompany me as long as there is a little treat at the end. However, I did feel quite bad when I saw her conked out at Ace Hardware while I was picking up some knicknacks:



At least she has the talent to fall asleep anywhere - it may serve her well in the future!

Island Specialty

Some things are just different on the island.

One of the things I started to notice right away was that the local people here like to express themselves by plastering words on the front or back windshields of their cars. This is somewhat akin to bumper stickers in the US, some of which can be quite hilarious, puzzling or rather ridiculous themselves (I've seen lots of "My Kid is an Honor Student!" of late). Here, people with religious bends cite biblical quotes. For some people it seems to be a way to self-proclaim or self-affirm (cars that say, for example, "Landlord", "Dread Man" or "Spice Girl"). Some seem downright poetic (a simple "IMAGINE"), while some appear to lay down bossy, albeit seemingly random commands ("Do Not Slide"). Some people just seem to take a pi** or are just mad at the world ("The Middle Finger"). They can be found in English, French, and Creole. One thing you won't find, however, is a non-local person at the wheel of such cars (i.e., people from the mainland France, US, Holland). This seems to be, at least to my eagle-eye observations to this point, a uniquely "island" phenomenon.

I've been taking pictures whenever I can. Here are some to start you off. I suspect I will have quite a gallery of such pictures in the coming months, as cars like these are quite common! Sometimes I find myself without a camera and I bemoan the lost opportunity to capture this part of the island culture...

Here is one that seems to capture some happy-go-lucky driver:


Here is one that seems to embody a rather grumpy driver:


Sometimes just a short indication of the driver's (or a loved one of the car owner, I guess) astrological sign:


Sometimes it can get rather verbose (we will have to come back to this car on a later post):


Stay tuned for more!

6 Months in Pictures

So here goes, a quick summary of the past 6 months in pictures:

August:
We arrived on Friday the 27th of August. We hit the Maho beach pretty much straight away, the girls finding the heat a bit much upon exiting the airport (even though we were arriving from hot NYC!). Saturday 28th we spent at the beach as well. Sunday the 29th was full hurricane preparation! -Hurricane Earl was about to hit the island. Originally thought to be a wimpy category 1, by Sunday morning it was forecasted to be a pretty fierce category 3. The forecast was eerily correct - rain and winds really picking up by 8am Monday and continuing all day long until about 6pm. The girls got quite spooked by this, and kept on saying, "Mama, you said in St Martin it's sunny every day!" - I realized then, belatedly, that I never spoke to them about the hurricane season! The winds were impressive and unrelenting - I never heard howling windy sounds like that, even during the couple of hurricanes that we experienced in La Reunion.

By Tuesday morning, the sun was back - but there were lots of trees and debris on the ground and I took this picture of the view from our flat:


September:
The beginning of the new school year for the girls. They were split this year since the elementary school did not have a kindergarten section. This was a big shock for Manolee, who was used to seeing her big sister from time to time in the hallways or the cafeteria or the courtyard. The girls were not enchanted with their respective schools, much to my chagrin. So September was a trying month for us all, as I tried to make the best of having three less-than-happy campers in the family - we hit the pool almost everyday after school, we tried exploring different beaches, we tried dealing with stuff that we had largely been sheltered from up to this point: things like lizards, iguanas, flying cockroaches, weavils, ants.... and here is the majestic iguana that lounges around the pool:


October:
The girls were getting used to school life, though I would not go as far as saying that they were starting to like it. They were bummed when I announced that we wouldn't be going to NY for Halloween (for the first time since 2004) - but with our friends we hit the Princess Country Club for its Halloween party. Hanaya won third prize in the kids costume and strut contest, much to Manolee's unhappiness and jealousy fits that lasted about 45 minutes thereafter:


November:
We had two of my best friends from the US visit - a bit of drama at first since one of them missed the outbound plane and had to rejig all the vacation dates by one week, but all went well in the end. We discovered much of the island with them and it was super fun to be surrounded by good friends ALL THE TIME. Our friends had a good time too, as they promised to come down as much as they can! November also marked a turning point for Manolee, as she started to really enjoy her school. Instead of crying at pick-up time and giving me much angst (she used to feel anxious that I wouldn't come pick her up on time), now she was starting to hide from me when I showed up and complaining that she wanted to stay longer at school.


Picture on Left: Kids fascinated with iguanas on Pinel Island
Picture on Right: Kids and adults fascinated with landing planes on Maho Beach

Pictures above: Kids on Orient Bay

December:
The visit from my mother-in-law and preparing for Xmas took up much of the time. It began to feel much cooler, and I stopped going in the water (too cold when getting out). We met a few tropical Santas, all of whom I felt really bad for, having to dress up the traditional way in the heat. We spent New Year's Eve at first with our good friends C. & C., but then went to one of the grand villas in Terres Basses where they had giant TV screens showing NYE celebrations around the world, fire eaters and cha cha dancers. We then came back to our friends' house where we stood on their roof and watched the fireworks from around the island.

Picture on Left: Santa on Pinel island
Picture on Right: The girls at the Maison de Pere Noel, a major Xmas attraction on St Martin

January:
Last month went by really fast. My dad came for a week - he really enjoyed being here, especially since NY was undergoing a major cold spell. The girls loved having him here and were a bit deflated after he left. The weather was just gorgeous while he was here.


There you have it, our 6 months in pictures!

Why so quiet?

Moving to a new place normally should mean plenty of material for blogs. Moving to an Caribbean island normally should mean bucketful of material. Despite the abundance of blog-worthy topics that I've encountered, I have however been very reticent of late, and here is why.

A certain member of my family has been miserable since his (ok so you know who it is now, the sole male member of my immediate family) arrival here. He got here a month before I did, so he had to deal with a lot of stuff by himself - finding a place to live, fixing up his office, dealing with French bureaucrats (not only French, but French Island bureaucrats). By the time I arrived, he was frankly ready to leave.

I didn't want to broadcast to the world (or rather, my blog readership of maybe 3, including self) what the situation was like. Even though things have improved slightly now, I don't want to go into details. Bygones be bygones, right.

Anyway, we've now been here for 5 months, and methinks I'm ready to start posting every once in a while. There are just too much good material, it would be a shame not to share.

To start you off, here is a funeral procession that I witnessed today, truly island style:

Till next post!