Like this:

I enjoy telling you what is happening with me, O Theopholus, as a continuation of my previous adventures. But it takes so long to type it all out, then reread and rewrite so that it makes sense to you who may read. I have so much to tell and so little time. Other tasks I want to accomplish like reading, writing, preparing a sermon series for home, are not getting done because I spend too much time doing this blogging. I will have to force myself to limit my thoughts.

After teaching today, Cleton took me to the Atlantic side of the ocean. First up into the hills to view a deep valley that is called the Mesopotamian Valley which, as you might surmise from the name, has the most farming because it receives the most rain. Beautiful and lush and bursting with banana trees, it is. (Read that last sentence with a Yoda voice in your head.) During the trip Cleton mentioned to me what I had read somewhere, that the first Pitates movie (not Pittsburgh Pirates, Gene) and parts of the second were filmed here on St. Vincent.

From the Mesopotamian Valley, which interestingly enough is also in the mountains, we traveled to the coast where I got my first view of black sand beaches and what I think will be some great photos. The black sand is the result of volcanoes in some way. Black sand  is weird to see by the sea! Blue water, white waves and black sand. Looks equally weird between the toes when walking on it! I will do my best to include pictures when I get back. I was not aware that I would need camera software to download to the computer here, and I did not brng the software. (Once again, the ramifications of my age rears its ugly head.)

Last night we had potato chips for supper! I know what you are thinking, and so was I. But these potato chips are what Americans call french fries. This island was English in occupation a while back, and chips are fries. Like Canada, the money still bears images of the queen and looks like monopoly money to me. The fries were the American frozen ones and had been cooked (almost) and were cool, not even near warm. But it was better than a fourth meal of soup that they must have cooked in a garbage can because they had so much of it. And like good stewards, none of it gets wasted. These students have family members that are starving back home. Remember the old guilt trip our moms would play “There are people in other countries that are starving and would love to have your food!” Well, here it is true. The fries were ok, but a far cry from the best fries made by Karen Lawrence and crew at the concession stand of the Shively Christian Church basketball league! Just like momma used to make in the deep fryer when Crisco was legal and a recommended agent for all arteries!

I wish I could relate in detail what happened to Ismel, Gregory and I when we walked to the airport yesterday. We passed a bus stop and a black guy jumped out of a taxi scared to death and paid his fare. Here, taxis are minivans that cram in as many people as possible. Just think of the movies and the busses in India where people cram in and ride the roof, etc. Now replace the bus with a minivan. Now you have it! So this guy jumps out, and I guess he figured I was American because he said with a loud voice and saucer-eyes, “Do they always drive like that!! “(It was a two exclamation mark shout, close to three actually) Well, I could tell he wasn’t from the island from his accent. I asked from whence he came (I like using old English in once-English-occupied-territories) and he said, “Why from Manhattan, old chap.” Nah, he didn’t really use the old chap thing. I told him that if he was scared and from Manhattan, it must have been one real ride. He said, “I am not even where I wanted to go! I just had to get out of that death trap! (This abridged version is nowhere near as funny as the unabridged version.)

By the way. Fuel here is $11 plus change for one gallon!  Let that sink in.

For lunch today: rice (what’s new?) with chic peas (they don’t look female to me) otherwise known as garbonza (sp?)beans with chicken mixed in (careful of the gristle and bones) and a side of jello (cherry) with no Cool Whip. Tonight they said we will have Romen (sp? again) noodles.

Oh chik-fil-a, o chik-fil-a, my heart cries out to drive your way.   To taste your sandwich and waffle fries, the thought alone brings tears to my eyes.  Breaded chicken, oh my gosh, on breaded bun with polynesian sauce. A homespun milkshake the flavor of peach, could it be worth leaving this beach? Trade sun for  snow, wind chill freeze for warm breeze? Just for a sandwich? I’m not that desperate, please.   O chik-fil-a, o chik-fil-a, I will stay here and you come my way. If not, so sad, too bad.      

Now, do you see how long this bloghas gotten? But I will tell you one other aspect of my life in St. Vincent. In the mornings I take a lukewarm shower. Like in Nicaragua when I was there, there is just tepid water here since it never really gets cold. So, when I take a shower, I hit a switch that activates a small heating device near the shower head. This would never fly in the U.S., having an electrical part right near the source of the water release! But this is St. Vincent, and you pray that he will protect you when you are taking a shower. (That can make you feel weird, too, if you think that he is watching you) Well, anyway, there is one stream of water that varies in pressure from mediocre to hardly anything, so I have to wet my hair and turn off the water, shampoo my little bit of hair, then rinse and turn it off again after getting wet as much as possible. Next I lather up with the soap, then turn on the water again and hurry and rinse off. This is a big body to rinse off! At times the water is warm and then it immediately switches to tepid.  I play this game every morning. But I would rather play this game than, “it is so cold while I eat my chik-fil-a sandwich in Louisville” or “when will we ever see the grass again in Pennsylvania?” So much for global warming.

I love you guys and miss you all. Keep serving Christ no matter the weather. Too many people are headed for a hot eternity, and I don’t think it will be a “dry” heat”. 

And Roebin, try keeping up. Don’t do this tsunami response thing. 

Rob

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