This exotic flower was given to me by my new boss, and because I am frequently quite dense, I initially completely missed what he was doing: not just showing me a pretty flower found at the work site, but giving me a pretty flower. He is a wild, sweet 18 year old, very bright and very funny. Even when trying to correct me diplomatically to put my hard hat on and stop standing on wobbly things to reach.
Yesterday, I was assigned to go with him (your assigned team and boss and project can change daily) and two other young males in their early twenties. It was my pleasure to be driving them (insurance precludes those under age 26 from driving here) and working with them for the last two days. My boss started the day during the drive to the work site playing headbanger music and gangsta rap cranked up to 10, so loud that the car boomed and locals were turning to look at us before we passed them. Then we careened up a deeply rutted, steep, twisting gravel road. We hauled our sledgehammers and power tools to the site: a concrete shell with debris inside and below, most of the roof ripped off, and a rotting deck that a step in the wrong place would mean a fall down about 30 feet. The house hangs onto the side of a steep hill overlooking the ferry port (and main) town of Cruz Bay. A few months after the hurricanes, this family lost the mother from pancreatic cancer. A child showed me where her room had been. It was roofless, concrete, with weather-rotted studs and debris.
In this way, I got to swagger around with these young guys like a wannabe badass, and they not only tolerated me, but took me in and entertained me with esoteric information that they’d amassed from their travels and homeschooling, which seems to develop voraciously enquiring minds. At the end of the day we did it all in reverse, and it was a pleasure to be with them. Even if Austin almost fell into a bottomless cistern. There is some wisdom in sending an old trauma nurse with these three wild things, even if they probably just needed someone old enough to do the driving.
I think I may now like gangsta rap. It quickly puts you into badass mode.
Back at camp we got the news that the exterminator wouldn’t be coming anytime soon, which means I’ll be in my tent for the foreseeable future. I had tons of camp chores to do, hand washing clothing to do, not much time before dark, and was hearing stories of others shortening their stays because of the conditions, illness, being covered in bug bites and generally discouraged. It takes forever under these conditions to get anything accomplished. I was exhausted and irritable at the end of the day and decided that more than two weeks of this was probably going to be miserable. They said they had lots of volunteers coming in, so I didn’t feel too bad, especially since some others were leaving quickly after discovering that the conditions had deteriorated. Most are staying two weeks, it seems. In a state of discouragement, I booked my own flights out and left word that I’d be staying one additional week instead of three, which I’m glad I did because it gives me an end date that is within reach, relieving a great deal of pressure. I hadn’t been sleeping, it rained all day, my laundry was all still wet, I’d spent an hour mopping floors after working hard all day and I’d had enough. But as happens, rest and a few good occurrences help a great deal and I’m going to wait to see if the rat problem gets taken care of and whether the electrician that we met in the parking lot at the Starfish Market actually does get some electrical and water going.
Then I slept for 7 hours in my nice little organized tent, got up to 4 new volunteers, two of whom worked with us today, and got to hear their stories/get to know them a little while working on a common task, which makes it all easier. More unique people from diverse backgrounds, and by now it feels as if a tribe is forming. I feel more settled into things socially as have a better feel for who people are. I really like these people.
Since I’m sober, I’m popular on Saturday nights as a driver. We ran into other volunteers in town and collected Austin walking along a sidewalk to bring home. Everyone hitchhikes all over the island. In fact, drivers stop to say they’re sorry they can’t give a ride because they’ve picked up so many hitchhikers that they have no room left. Unbelievably nice people everywhere and, so far, no problems related to bad behavior on alcohol. Maybe because so many are predominantly smoking pot and aren’t drinking but a few beers. I’m a little sad to have decided against going into town with the others, but evidently there aren’t really many places where people dance, and everyone comes back hammered, so I’ll hope the kids are playing some island rap and dancing in the dark at the pier some night. I’ve been doing an hour of yoga in the dark with a solar light on the pier and also in the kitchen area in base camp.
This morning, Ryan got out his boom box and made his way through camp playing it loud. He played Uptown Funk and called out that he was playing it for me (because during my own introduction they’d asked me what my favorite song to sing for karaoke might be), so I got a lift out of that. The night before, Sia told me how to see the bio-luminescence that the plankton produce when you swish your hands in the shallow water. Like sparkling or fireflies just under the water.
After my friend Lillie came out and kindly invited me, about 7 of us sat around in the office watching Jurassic Park (I originally thought the office had office HOURS and was closed at night, but it doesn’t even have a door:0)). Just tattered mosquito netting to pull aside). Everyone pretty much trusts each other, and it’s a great environment in which to practice being more open and relaxed among others and to watch the kaleidoscope of people all negotiating these extraordinary circumstances while doing this extraordinary work.
NotesfromaHike 