It's weird. I can recall certain memories I pegged. The first day. The end of the first month. The last month. The last three days. Already, I am repacked and basically on my way back home. I have today, tomorrow and Tuesday. Then Wednesday I leave at 7.00 with Amanda from campus to my airplane to Barbados, then from there to Miami....then home. Man. It's over as soon as it starts. Of course there have been those inspiring ups, and those emotional downs, but hey-- I did it and I'm sad that's it's over.
The last few days have been pretty low key. Studying for exams, sight seeing, cleaning and being sick has taken up most of my time. Hoping my stipend comes before I leave, making plans back in the states and last minute gift shopping has taken up the rest. When I come home I will regret becoming so familiar with Martinique-- losing that first-day-awe, but at the same time I will be proud that I could call this place home. What an adventure it's been.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Attends, Attends.
Oh, la vie. Elle est belle, elle est laide. Elle est tranquil et bizarre. La vie, ca, ca c'est la vie.
A la Martinique.
A la Martinique.
ahhh
Attend should be the first word in French any anglophone learns upon his of her arrival to Martinique. Attendre-- to wait. You better be ready to wait, wait, wait. Wait for the bus, wait for your food. Wait in line. Wait for your appointment. Wait to be waited on. Wait, wait, wait. Attends, attends. "Caribbean Time" is not a joke-- it's a lifestyle. Punctuality is going to be a slap in the face 2 weeks from now.
Alllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllright. So, it's May 5th. Cinco de mayo (surprisingly not celebrated here... dommage). That leave exactly 13 days until my arrival back in the US of A. The world has changed so much since I left-- the crisis in Japan, the near governmental shutdown, tornadoes, riots celebrating the death of Osama. Naturally I've been grilled about all of it by my fellow exchange students--being American is a full time job in this bitch. I hope I still fit in when I get back. I suppose I've changed as well, hopefully we're just as cohesive as we were when I left.
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| A regular Campus Day |
I've been keeping myself busy during my absence, that's for sure. A few weekends ago, Carin, Ines, Christian and I rented a car and did a tour of the island. Initially I was going to be the driver-- but me+stick+mountains=imminent death for everyone in a 10 mile radius, so Christian took over and was a boss. The group dynamic turned out to be amazing. Carin from San Diego, Christian from Germany and Ines from Peru turned out to be the most excellent of traveling buddies. The four of us made our way to some of the most beautiful places on the island. We met up with Stefan, his friends, Christos and Argyro, his girlfriend as well as a ton of others at one of my favorite beaches, Anse Couleuvre in the north. On our way, we got a bit turned around, so we decided to take a lovely detour and drive as far as possible up the Mountagne Pelee-- a volcano that erupted in May 1902 and killed 30,000 people. The volcano gives an incredible view of the island-- you can see the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea at the same time. The temperature change is startling, and the natural power of the volcano is virtually tangible. Once you park, you can climb the mountain to the summit, but we left that for another day.
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| Christian and the Car |
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| Anse Coulevre |
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| View from Mount Pelee |
We also made our way to small towns on the way, and the next day went to Les Salines, which is meant to be one of the prettiest beaches on the island. But the beach didnt meat our now snobby credentials, so we left to another, did some shopping and roamed the south. Having a car breathed a bit of life into all of us; I can't stress how poor the public transport is . We plan to rent another one for a week or so, and really destroy this place before we leave.
Ignore them, even when they are laughing.
Ignore them, even when they are screaming.
SO, most of the time we are in the town of Schoelcher-- livin' the schoelcher life. Schoelcher is basically a suburb of Fort de France, but too small to be considered anything other than a village. The campus is considered Schoelcher, but the "town" where the "businesses" are (a pizzaria, kabob place and like 6 creperies) is down what I like to call Mount Campus ( a heinously steep hill we walk down to get into town and to the beach, and UP TO GET HOME FML). I will leave with fond memories of Schoelcher, but it is, to be polite, an honest portrayal of life in Martinique. Some of the homes are just skeletons of old, dilapidated foundations and frameworks. They look as though they could tumble at any moment. They are dirty, broken and nestled in the streets that often wreak of piss, corpse and vomit. It's only saving grace is night fall, when their true nature is masked by darkness. The Schoelcher cats rule the streets, constantly hunting in garbage cans and using the beach as their personal litter box. The crack heads are in full force as well, fighting, mooching and befriending naive foreigners. But the beach, corner bar and dock have become our second home, amongst the poverty and character that makes the town. Some of the residents don't have running water or electricity. But somehow, they find happiness in their ocean view.
SO, most of the time we are in the town of Schoelcher-- livin' the schoelcher life. Schoelcher is basically a suburb of Fort de France, but too small to be considered anything other than a village. The campus is considered Schoelcher, but the "town" where the "businesses" are (a pizzaria, kabob place and like 6 creperies) is down what I like to call Mount Campus ( a heinously steep hill we walk down to get into town and to the beach, and UP TO GET HOME FML). I will leave with fond memories of Schoelcher, but it is, to be polite, an honest portrayal of life in Martinique. Some of the homes are just skeletons of old, dilapidated foundations and frameworks. They look as though they could tumble at any moment. They are dirty, broken and nestled in the streets that often wreak of piss, corpse and vomit. It's only saving grace is night fall, when their true nature is masked by darkness. The Schoelcher cats rule the streets, constantly hunting in garbage cans and using the beach as their personal litter box. The crack heads are in full force as well, fighting, mooching and befriending naive foreigners. But the beach, corner bar and dock have become our second home, amongst the poverty and character that makes the town. Some of the residents don't have running water or electricity. But somehow, they find happiness in their ocean view.
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| Lovely Night for a Sing along |
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| Friends on the dock |
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| Schoelcher Plage |
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| Schoelcher |
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Ce qu'on aime est toujours belle
Oh Martinique.
My blogs have fallen few and far between. Like I've said before, it's an odd thing to know that your life is anything but normal-- the oddities have become a daily standard. But needless to say there are still plenty of interesting things to discuss : )
Martiniqueeeeee!!!!!!!!
True to French fashion, the people here love to strike. One day while I was t work in FDF I saw a huge, potentially 1000 person strong, march in the center town. The signs were in creole (sweet) so I wasn't sure what it was about, but I eventually came to find it was the postal service. The strike grew and grew, others began, others ended, more businesses and business people got involved. A few weeks later there was a gas strike. There were lines 50 or more cars long, reports of people waiting upwards of 12 hours long for gas at the petrol stations. There was a strike at the port leaving grocery stores BARE. And eventually, about 2 or 3 weeks ago, the strikes reached the power services which meant BLACK OUTS!
AWESOME.
When the power goes out at home there are still street lights and back ups and so on so forth. Here-- nothing. The entire town of Schoelcher, the university and dorms were completely out of power. It was so amazing. We were on campus the first time, and everyone decided to go down byt he sea. The town Schoelcher, where I spend most of my time, had never looked so beautiful (probably because you couldn't see it). But standing on the beach, in the Caribbean, with all my friends around, silenced by the beauty of the stars and quieted by the hush of the ocean. Man, it was awesome-- in the proper sense. Incredible. Inspiring. We saw night how it was really supposed to look. Perfect!
In other news-- a couple of my closest friends Max and Isabelle have left. They are 2 quebecois who were not students here, but backpackers who were close friends to some of the quebecois exchangers. Max and Isa are two of my favorite people in the world, traveling bad asses is what they are. They were so patient, so kind and giving with me and my shit French. Any progress I've made I owe to them, the other Quebecois and a few other little gems. We had so much fun with them, exploring the island, going out and crossing language barriers. Those two are a huge reason why this experience has been so monumental.
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| chatting in the dark! |
In other news-- a couple of my closest friends Max and Isabelle have left. They are 2 quebecois who were not students here, but backpackers who were close friends to some of the quebecois exchangers. Max and Isa are two of my favorite people in the world, traveling bad asses is what they are. They were so patient, so kind and giving with me and my shit French. Any progress I've made I owe to them, the other Quebecois and a few other little gems. We had so much fun with them, exploring the island, going out and crossing language barriers. Those two are a huge reason why this experience has been so monumental.
Love them.
However, their going away party was not as sentimental and adorable.
The Shoelcher plage has a few negative aspects. Besides it being the central meeting point for every foreigner ever, it is also a lions den of crack heads and feral cats. At Max and Isa's going away party, two of the aforementioned crack heads went AT IT. Alex, a toothless what-looks-like-100-but-is-probably-40 year old crack king who always plays shitty "Drums" he made from garbage and who speaks some melange of creole, french and gibberish, and Elliot, a more coherent more aggressive, younger version of Alex got into a serious brawl. Elliot at one point was stomping on Alex's chest, spewing an incomprehensible arsenal of what was surely obscenities. The origins of the fight are unclear and probably unjustified. But that's life here for them.
The Shoelcher plage has a few negative aspects. Besides it being the central meeting point for every foreigner ever, it is also a lions den of crack heads and feral cats. At Max and Isa's going away party, two of the aforementioned crack heads went AT IT. Alex, a toothless what-looks-like-100-but-is-probably-40 year old crack king who always plays shitty "Drums" he made from garbage and who speaks some melange of creole, french and gibberish, and Elliot, a more coherent more aggressive, younger version of Alex got into a serious brawl. Elliot at one point was stomping on Alex's chest, spewing an incomprehensible arsenal of what was surely obscenities. The origins of the fight are unclear and probably unjustified. But that's life here for them.
However, after the fight someone whipped out a guitar and we had a serious jam session. Jonas took over laying down some blues choruses and I sang words I was making up in English (good thing no one knew what the fuck I was saying it was surely nonsense).
So, all in all it was a good night, and I miss my friends dearly. They have returned safely to Quebec and plans to meet again are in the mix : ) That there is the best part of study abroad. : )
What Else?!?!?!?!
Well, as I am sure I have mentioned before, the transport system here is virtually non-existent. The buses come and go as they please, and if it's past 7 or a Sunday-- good luck. That's for traveling around town, FDF and to University and back. If you want to get to another part of the island, its even harder. Ines and I went to St. Anne, a beautiful white sand beach to the south. We took a taxi navette, basically a shared van. The cost is 6.50 euro each way-- rip off-- and they are meant to just do tours back and forth. We went on a Sunday when the last taxi was meant to leave st anne for FDF at 3. We started waiting at 230 and, as I should have guessed, the taxi never came back. FML.
We are stuck in the south.
This is the same day, no less, mama is meant to arrive.
So? We have to hitch hike. After walking for about an hour in the direction we hope is towards FDF we get picked up. The man takes us north east , unfortunately, that is one direction more than we were meant to go. Now we are north--good-- and east-- bad. We wait in this town by a gas station for 2 hours, looking for a ride. It's starting to get dark, we're scared, it's late, and mama is coming in. Finally, we get someone to drop us off at the airport. It's about 6 hours before my mom gets in-- what to do? We took a taxi back to school, we made it about an hour and a half closer than where we started, so why not? However, the 15 min taxi ride costs 50 euro. And I had to take it back to the airport that night, for the same cost, to meet mama.
So many stories like that. Nothing here is efficient or dependable. If you want to go to the store to buy a toothbrush, be prepared to be in the store for at least 30 min. The lines are long and unorganized, stores are packed, things are hard to find. Everything shouts UNORGANIZED.
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| Alex and I. OOps : / |
So, all in all it was a good night, and I miss my friends dearly. They have returned safely to Quebec and plans to meet again are in the mix : ) That there is the best part of study abroad. : )
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| Not our boat. |
What Else?!?!?!?!
Well, as I am sure I have mentioned before, the transport system here is virtually non-existent. The buses come and go as they please, and if it's past 7 or a Sunday-- good luck. That's for traveling around town, FDF and to University and back. If you want to get to another part of the island, its even harder. Ines and I went to St. Anne, a beautiful white sand beach to the south. We took a taxi navette, basically a shared van. The cost is 6.50 euro each way-- rip off-- and they are meant to just do tours back and forth. We went on a Sunday when the last taxi was meant to leave st anne for FDF at 3. We started waiting at 230 and, as I should have guessed, the taxi never came back. FML.
This is the same day, no less, mama is meant to arrive.
So? We have to hitch hike. After walking for about an hour in the direction we hope is towards FDF we get picked up. The man takes us north east , unfortunately, that is one direction more than we were meant to go. Now we are north--good-- and east-- bad. We wait in this town by a gas station for 2 hours, looking for a ride. It's starting to get dark, we're scared, it's late, and mama is coming in. Finally, we get someone to drop us off at the airport. It's about 6 hours before my mom gets in-- what to do? We took a taxi back to school, we made it about an hour and a half closer than where we started, so why not? However, the 15 min taxi ride costs 50 euro. And I had to take it back to the airport that night, for the same cost, to meet mama.
So many stories like that. Nothing here is efficient or dependable. If you want to go to the store to buy a toothbrush, be prepared to be in the store for at least 30 min. The lines are long and unorganized, stores are packed, things are hard to find. Everything shouts UNORGANIZED.
Life here is impossible with out a car and a proper house. But we're getting along.
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