Christiansted Harbor as Tropical Depression Erika approaches 

Pink and purple colors lit up the eastern sky for an instant this evening as the sun set on Christiansted, St. Croix. The last couple of days, the bars have had a constant stream of The Weather Channel instead of news or sports. Tropical Depression Erika is due to arrive here later tonight. The winds of the last two days have stilled themselves since sunset and a calm has settled over the harbor where dozens of pleasure craft are hunkered down for the night. The flags have been removed from the hotel patio, the tables and chairs have been stowed upside down and against the wall. 

I arrived only three days ago and immediately got the impression that The Weather Channel in the summer and early fall is the Caribbean version of bar entertainment. We have NASCAR, football and baseball and the islanders have hurricanes and rum.

This is my first taste of life in the islands. I'm down here until the 18th for training at the laboratory on St. Croix. So far things have gone relatively well, I say this as I see flashes of lightning from the distant horizon. The people at the laboratory seem lovely and I am learning a lot. I'm not a microbiologist, so there is much for me to learn in that section.

The culture here is different. I must always remember to greet people with "Good morning", "good afternoon", or "good evening". It is impolite to simply come out with a "hi" or "hello". Women should never be referred to as "girls". That's impolite, too. And I must remember to keep to the wrong side of the road. The car I was issued by the lab for transportation during my stay is what is kindly referred to as an island car. Back in the states, we'd call it a junker and have it condemned by the inspection station. But it is adequate, even though one of its eyeballs is hanging out. The wipers groan and cry, lazily making their way across the windshield, smearing rain and dust into an opaque layer over the glass. The inside smells like it has survived quite a few floods.

When I took it for gas and some air in the tires, I found a gas station near the lab. The attendant came out, pumped the gas and cleaned the goop from my windshield. He said the air was around back. I was going to fill the air myself, but he insisted. While I was waiting, I saw a woman walk by with a cup of coffee. I hadn't had a coffee in a long time and it sounded really good right about then. I asked the man if he sold coffee. He stood up from filling the tire, and gave me a serious look.

"Coffee? Coffee? I don't sell coffee. Thousands of years ago, a man was born in a garden and he wasn't given coffee. WATER! He was given water and fruits. That is what is meant for man, not coffee. There was no coffee in that garden. Why do you want to be addicted to that anyway? All you people do is fill your bodies with bad things that were never mean for man."

 "I'm not addicted," I stammered, "I just thought it sounded good this morning."

"WATER! Water is what is meant for man to drink. All I drink is water because that is what God has given me and all I eat are fruits. Coconuts, bananas, mangoes, those are the fruits God meant for man to eat. You want everything fast, fast, fast."

"No, no, I don't want everything fast. I just wanted breakfast, I just got here. I start work today. No fast, fast, fast."

He continued, "I grow all of my own fruits. I live simply. All Americans care about is money. They have so much, but live so little. Rush here, rush there and they don't understand how much they have already but still want more."

"Yes, life is very busy there, but I'm moving here. Thanks for filling the tires. I'll buy water."

"Okay, then. I sell water. I will get you a water."

"Is there a store that sells fruit around?"

"Store? Store? A thousand years ago, a man was born in a garden and he didn't need a store. All the fruits were provided in his garden. He had all he needed right there and had no need for a store."

"Yes, well, my garden is in New Jersey and I need a store."

"Well, there is a store across the way, they sell fruits."

I paid for the water and got out of there. I had never been lectured over wanting a coffee before. I've been scolded several times already since arriving here. I must have a sign that only men can see that says "I need correction and advice."

Today after work, I tried to find a better supermarket and used my phone GPS. Trouble was, it's hard to drive on the wrong side of the road, in an unfamiliar place, in an island car, while reading a GPS. I got really lost. Luckily I had a fellow in a Ford SUV behind me for a good twenty minutes of my misadventure on the roads. He was sure to toot when I didn't go left on red, when I was too slow for him and when I just wasn't up to snuff in my little beater with her loose headlight flopping off to the side, hanging by wiring. As I finally turned left and out of his way, he yelled with a hint of sarcasm, "Be careful, sweetheart." I gave him my patented cheesy grin  and drove off to uncharted lands that looked more like the Australian outback than a Caribbean island. The stretch of highway was deserted. Shells of windmills dotted the hills. St. Croix was a Dutch colony and Christiansted and Frederiksted still have their colonial forts as historic sites. 

Fort Christiansted

Tomorrow is another day at the lab. I get to try not to mess up, work hard and continue life at a slower pace. While I feel scrutinized by the locals, I still feel comfortable here. So far, so good.

The plane ride here was the first I took without the help of anti-anxiety drugs or copious amounts of alcohol. I got to enjoy it for the sheer beauty. Here's some pictures of the ride in.

Leaving Miami, FL on the putt-putt jet

Over the Atlantic

The wind is beginning to stir again. The sky is midnight blue. Boats are sleeping in the harbor. The first night I was here, one of the boats was blasting music that went "thump thump thump thumpita jiggle thump" into the wee hours. With the reports of the approaching tropical depression, they've quieted down. The boardwalk is noticeably calmer, too. Tonight will be a restful night.