Before I go any further into this story, I need to present
to you the cast of characters(I’ve changed their names a bit to give them some
privacy):
Tara V- My couchsurfing host. Who by her
description in couchsurfing was a lover of books and fastidiously clean. At
least we had 50% in common.
George C, of newly successful smoking cessation history and
friend to Tara. Also of the long line of family member who first came Barbados in
1600’s
Joan D-George’s old family friend, currently residing in
George’s beach bag since 2008. Also agent for several Hollywood actors
Elizabeth D, housekeeper, former school teacher from Guyana.
Sheryl H, Tara and George’s contrary friend.
Okay back to the story. So I arrived in Barbados to stay
with Tara. Tara who required that I give references before allowing me to stay
and told me I would need to provide my own food if I wanted to eat with her.
Also the Tara who seemed genuinely excited when I told her I had some books
that I would bring with me for her when I came.
I wasn’t sure what to expect. I got to her house around 4pm
and was greeted by her two barking dogs. Well actually one and then slowly the
second waddled over to me to give his two cents as well. Tara soon thereafter
came to the door and showed me in. For the third time of “couch surfing” I was
provided with my own bedroom.
I was told that we were having people over and that she was
making dinner and just needed a few more things from the grocery store. I
volunteered to go get them and while the list wasn’t long, I had sticker shock
with how much more expensive everything is in Barbados. I spent more on that
one stop than I had during my entire Trinidad trip including the ferry ride to
Tobago.
I arrived back to her house and met Sheryl and George, the
two friends who were coming over for dinner and Mexican Train. George had been
introduced to me by Tara earlier as my
unlikely friend. We have nearly nothing in common and I dislike his world view,
but somehow we get along. And right away I could tell that I was going to
as well.
After finding out I was from NH, he noted that he had
nephews both in NH and ME and grew up in Bridgeport CT which is where my mom
grew up. Tara piped up that she too had spent some time living in NH too in a
small town called Littleton. And went to college at Wheaton College in Norton
MA. What? Seriously? The chances of meeting two people who have lived almost
their entire adult lives in Barbados to have ties to New England are…. Well I
don’t know what they are but I’d imagine not great. But Barbados is an English
colony and New England may have some English living there so there could be an
increased likelihood than say Wisconsin. But then to find out that Tara went to
Wheaton College in Norton MA was too much. Definitely a small world. George was
pretty much doing all the talking for the next hour or so and come to find out
he came from a long lineage of English that first arrived in Barbados in the
1600’s but is not considered a pure Bajan because he was born in NY(but his
parents are from Barbados and the rest of the family).
George is like a character right out of Paul Theroux’s Hotel Honolulu. Whenever he hears someone has caught a big fish, he rushes with his sharpie down to the pier and draws on the fish the cut he wants. He had tried his hand(and supposedly was
quite successful) as a bed and breakfast owner; making quite a tidy profit and
earning a bachelorhood. The bachelorhood came one day when his wife went on
vacation and never returned which he divulged with a certain amount of gaiety
that must come with bachelorhood in a tropical paradise. And during this extended bachelorhood, he
takes Jane to the beach every day. Jane
who had died in 2008 and was cremated.
His childhood friend’s mother, Jane passed away and her ashes were given to
various friends to scatter at sea. But I
didn’t do that. She doesn’t want to be in the ocean. She wants to go to the
beach. So he carries her in his beach bag every day that he goes. When
asked how his friend reacted to that, he stated that they weren’t talking
anymore.
Tara, who unabashedly told me she was an excellent cook, did
not let down. With the ingredients that I had purchased and Mahi Mahi that she
had purchased from Oisten’s fish market, made a great dinner which was
complemented by George’s Rum and Coco-nut water(the second half muttered under
his breath so it sounded like Rum and Coke until you took a swig of pretty much
straight rum).
Throughout dinner prep(where Tara cooked with me scrubbing
the vegetables and setting the tables, and George consuming copious amounts of
rum), dinner and the subsequent Mexican Train(which is a variation of
dominoes), their friend Sheryl would mutter contradictions and corrections as
her only manner of conversation. Interspersed with her contradictions would be
Georg’s criticisms of Tara for smoking. There is nothing like a newly ex-smoker
becoming the anti-smoking Nazi. While watching me cleaning the table and
dishes(I was earning my keep after all), Sheryl took a moment’s break from
contradicting one of them to joining in on the criticism of Tara still smoking.
I was able to quit cold turkey she
proudly stated, but I did catch the the
first time that she had trailed off with. When asked how many times had she
quit she stated oh several but this last
time has been almost 6 months. And they were giving Tara advice! Good luck
to them all. The rest of the time Sheryl was eating seconds and then thirds and
even putting some of the brownie dessert in her purse, presumably to eat later.
Maybe a result of no longer smoking? Either way, it was a very interesting
night and one I couldn’t have come up with if I had tried.
Tara told me that she had to work at home the whole next day
and was kind enough to give me a key so I was free to explore. I packed a light
bag with water and rolls and ran the 6 miles into Bridgetown which is an UNESCO
historical site. In addition to the oldest active British colony garrison, it
also has the only house outside of the US that George Washington ever lived and
it was during this time that he gained some of his military prowess as well as
political connections. Bridgetown also as a thriving downtown and I was there
during the Mount Gay Race Around Barbados which is a weeklong sailboat
competition. It was pretty cool to see those huge and super expensive boats out
at sea. Oh and that brings me to the ocean.
The waters were crystal clear and had a good combination of
white sands and rocky areas so you can get the beach and snorkel experience
really easy. I hung out in Bridgetown for a bit and then walked back to Tara’s
house along the beach the whole way(well, there was one area where I had to
swim across because of a jetty but otherwise I was able to walk the whole 6 ish
miles back).
I arrived back to meet Elizabeth, Tara’s housekeeper. Probably
the queen of the misfit toys she introduced herself to me with her headphones
on and then started talking to Tara about me as if I wasn’t sitting right
there. When Tara pointed this out to her that it was she that had the headphones on and that I could hear her fine, she
genuinely seemed shocked. Tara still had some work to do so she left me with
Elizabeth who regaled me in stories of fights she had with the monkeys on the
island, jobs she quit because she felt disrespected and her thoughts of Donald
Trump. During the few hours that she sat and talked with me, she repeated over
and over how she had to get going so that she could catch her bus home which
came only once an hour on the half hour. Watching 5:30 and 6:30 go by and
finally asked her when she was leaving to which she responded in a very
Guyanese way saying just now. And
just like in Guyana, just now can be anytime from 5 minutes to 5 hours from
now. So at around 7:30p when Tara, who also had said that we’d be grabbing food
just now an hour earlier, came out
and suggested that we grab a pizza, Elizabeth said she wanted to come along.
So the three of us, with Elizabeth and her four bags in the
back seat, head to a pizza place. Or so I thought. Instead we go to Price Mart
which is like Sam’s club but it does sell pizza so I was thinking we’d go in
grab the pizza and go. Instead I am sent to order the pizza while the two go
off shopping in this big box store. They
come back about 30 minute after the pizza has been cooked each with a cart full
of goods. Another 15 minutes of standing in line and we are finally back to the
car with Tara remarking how efficient they were and a slow realization was
dawning on Elizabeth. And that was that she had just purchased another 4 bags
worth of “stuff”.
Now as annoying as this was, if I were driving, I would have
offered to drive Elizabeth to her home(after all the island is only 21 miles by
14 miles). However, Tara was having none of this and told her to just
consolidate her bags and she’d be dropped off at the nearest bus stop. Which
totally overwhelmed Elizabeth to the point that I had to get in the backseat
and prioritize what things she needed and what could be picked up at Tara’s
house later that week. Like maybe the 50 pack of oatmeal and 12 pack of water.
How she was able to get all those things into her shopping cart and through
check out without it occurring to her that she had to carry it home was beyond
me.
After dropping Elizabeth off at the bus stop and eating our
dinner of pizza on the way, I was ready for bed. As I am saying my good nights,
Tara asked for just one more thing. And I’m thinking another chore(like the
heavy door I moved, trash I put out etc) and was a bit shocked when her respond
was: can I have a back massage. Oh
boy. Luckily we settled for a seated at a kitchen chair back massage after
which she praised my expertise and I stealthily locked my door.
I awoke early the next morning and snuck out of the house
for a run in the trails with monkeys all around. I came back showered and was
told by Tara that she was going to show me around the island just as soon as
her contractor finished his appraisal. So by 9:30 I was packed and ready to go
and by 2p so was she. Which meant that we had about an hour before I wanted to
be checked into my hotel so I could get ready for when Kenny arrived later that
evening.
I’m glad I was able to go on a tour, albeit brief, of the
east side of the island, because I wouldn’t get back up there again. Definitely
some more isolated areas which was nice. And while my week long couchsurfing
experience went probably as well as it could have with some great, and some
quirky, hosts, I was happy to settle
into my own hotel room and was especially excited to have Kenny finally arrive.
But I’ll save that for another post.
Until next time,
Danny