BEST. CHRISTMAS. PRESENT. EVER!!!

Reunited with my phenomenal kids on Tortola!  Life is SOOOOO good!

May yours be just as joyous! 

A squillion freckles and counting...

Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.

--Miriam Beard
 
By now I thoroughly expected to be feeling more annoyed than pleased by the sun, sand, and seawater that saturate my current setting.  Figured I’d be fed up with the constant slathering on of sunscreen that has constituted my daily beauty routine for the past 10 weeks. Sick of the dried salt on my skin and in my hair.  Tired of sand underfoot everywhere all the time.  Bored with beach life and getting fidgety for more action.

On the contrary, I am still savoring every second of it all. 

I am utterly content to be so unkempt.  No eyeliner or lipstick.  My daily wardrobe consists of a bathing suit and cover-up, changing for dinner into something slightly less informal, like a t-shirt and shorts.  Am ecstatic to sit outside round the clock with nothing warmer than a light cotton shawl.  Go barefoot whenever reasonably possible and when not, am thrilled to have an extremely limited choice of footwear:

everyday shoes

dress shoes

 

And to think there are 165 pairs of closed-toe boots and high heels in storage in Zurich! 

Although my epidermis is clearly better suited to cooler climes, it has (despite the fanatic use of SPF 50+ products) taken on a shade of tawny-copper-amber and I now have the best tan – and the most freckles – of my entire life.  Fun for a change.

I am absolutely adoring having no agenda whatsoever.

Find that I can spend entire days on the beach…staring out at the horizon…mesmerized by the sunlight glinting off the sea…strolling in the waves’ edge…swimming and snorkeling…reading and dozing in the shade of a canvas umbrella…observing the breakers rolling in…and out…in…out…trying to define the various shades of blue: cerulean? azure? aqua? turquoise? teal? cobalt? cyan? 

The only decision that has to be made is which open-air food shack to lunch at while a balmy breeze rustles the palm fronds and the crashing surf accompanies reggae Christmas carols on the bar stereo.

A well-chilled rosé has its place in the world

 

When I need a change of scenery from the sunlit strands of sand, I go diving amongst the reefs and wrecks here.  A slow descent, adjusting to the sensation of suspension in the water – an amazing lightness despite the lead weights around the waist and steel tank on the back.  Underwater breathing is my meditation…inhaling…exhaling…in…out… the bubbles emitted from my regulator the only other sound, the perfection of my buoyancy the achievement of the day. 

           

In this age of constant movement, staying in one place has become a huge challenge for most of us – and a greater necessity than ever before. How shall I find this sort of contentment back home, in a landlocked country no less?  Not sure but it will behoove me to try more often to slow down and be still, and I can now give myself permission to do so with a clear conscience.

And in this season of supposed spiritual reflection, most of us are instead more likely stressed out by the crowds, chaos, and commerce of the holidays.  Of course here in the Caribbean it doesn’t feel like Christmas as we know it and it is easier to stay serene so far from the usual onslaught.  I wish for you all the chance to retreat, however briefly, from the hectic pace and pressures, and I gift you a little bit of my peace.  

Tranquility Wrapped in Blue

Anguilla, West Indies

Many would – and do – call this paradise, not least among them the Anguillian Tourism Board.  (The title of this post is also their marketing slogan.) However, I refuse to use the word, even though the beach that is my current home is indeed one classic image of what we think of when imagining a “place of extreme beauty, delight, or happiness.”  And there are 32 more! 

But I know the Caribbean well enough and have seen enough of this island to realize the reality beyond the white sand and blue surf.  The contrast between us and them is harsh: luxury 5-star hotels and palatial private homes on the coast vs. cement-block, tin-roofed shacks in the interior; some of the world’s best beaches at our doorstep vs. goats chomping on garbage piles and burning brush in the backyard; twice the national average income spent on one 2-week holiday. 

Anguilla may be just 16 miles long and 3 miles wide (26 x 5 km) but the divide between the haves and have-nots is immeasurable. 

Wasn’t it better for the natives before tourists discovered their home?  Island life back in the day may have fallen short by Western standards of living, but as long as the indigenous folks were not using our yardstick, then who’s to presume they weren’t content with their self-sufficiency?  Of course our presence here creates jobs but how happy are they really to cook and clean for us, serve us, drive us, wait on us, tend to our every wish and whim?  Do the dollars we add to the local economy truly make their lives more comfortable?  How naïve to think they don’t feel any resentment towards us. 

But, having said this, I have to admit that it appears to not be so in this case, and it must be largely because the history of this island’s citizens is divergent from other neighboring populations of African descent.  

The Europeans who attempted to establish plantations on Anguilla in the early 19^th century had no luck with the poor soil and arid climate, and eventually returned to the Continent, leaving the land in the hands of former slaves.  Those newly minted farmers had no greater success with crops and so many turned to fishing, boatbuilding, and even seasonal work in the sugar cane fields on surrounding islands.  Despite their hardships, they remained independent and evolved into a proud, determined, and hardworking society.   

This pride in ownership and success through tenacity accounts for the distinction between this island’s vibe and that of others in this part of the world.  In all honesty, the Anguillians seem sincerely welcoming and glad to share their country’s gorgeous gifts.  The continued lack of any land-based natural resources has propelled them to develop their high-end tourism industry (as well as offshore banking biz), and they are doing so to the apparent pleasure and benefit of everyone, locals and visitors alike.   

So I’ll get off my soapbox now…and head back to my little slice of heaven.