I Might be Anemic...

…but apparently I taste good.  And, to certain prevailing uninvited party-crashers, I am also apparently a walking sack of delicious O-negative nectar.  In case you don’t follow my sarcasm, I am referring to mosquitoes.  However, to be perfectly clear, I am not referring to the typical run-of-the-mill mosquitoes.  I am referring to insane, guerrilla warfare, stealth-model SOBs that have already drained their fill, left a welt and buzzed away before you know something’s wrong.  And even if you do spot one, good luck killing it; with their tactical maneuvering and kamikaze-esque dive-bombing, you will never (and I mean never) squish one.

Last night was our first opportunity to sleep in the beds here.  Although they lack bedsprings, they are still comfortable.  We slept like logs (easy to do after so long without sleep).  Until we woke up at midnight.  And it was an abrupt wakeup.  We sat up in the blinding dark to a BOOM! And yet another resounding BOOM!  Being on a tiny island, I should have jumped to the automatic—and most obvious—conclusion of pirates.  Duh.  Naturally we were being attacked by nutmeg-hungry pirates.  Then common sense set in when Mom said, “I guess it’s New Years.”  Oh yeah, why didn’t I think of that?

Today we went to the beach in Grand Anse.  The beach was amazing.  A-MAZ-ING.  Seriously, it should be illegal for me to be allowed to live in this paradise.  White sand, warm clear water and a gentle breeze made for a wonderful afternoon.  We did a little shopping along the beach and were charged the “real” prices for goods when we revealed that we were not tourists.  (Poor tourists pay $3 USD for one Carib beer—I paid about $1 USD.)  I made friends with a stray pothound begging for food.  Next time we go to the store I’m resolved to buy some doggy food to carry in a baggy for these poor mutts.  Although I had no food on this trip, he did seem to appreciate the scratches I offered.

Walking around the island is no big deal and even less so if you don’t want to walk.  If you’re on the side of the road, every bus that passes (and they pass frequently) will ask if you want a ride.  It’s cool, but I still can’t understand a word the bus drivers are saying.  Good thing they’re used to foreigners.

Here is a list of what is in our backyard: dogs, four of them, they love me; birds, lots of them; anoles, everywhere; coconuts, also everywhere and littering the ground; bananas, so many bananas; golden apples, which are nothing like apples in the US, but more akin to mangoes; oranges, which are not really very orange and are quite bitter. 

Did I mention this place is like paradise (except for the mosquitoes)?  Also there are goats.  Are there supposed to be this many goats in paradise?  Maybe they’re a special paradise-hybrid goat breed.