IMG_3815or, how I spent my Easter Vacation [view slideshow]
i came, i saw, i got enlightenment and a t-shirt.

this blog entry has been written and appended and revised more times than I’d like to try to estimate. I decided to create a new category called “rant” not sure where else this stuff would fit. this week and a day back in my hometown was an emotional tour de force. i wished i had a DV cam; this would have made a hell of a documentary.

waitingthe excitement I had built up about coming “home” for my vacation oozed out of me in the hot chairless airport terminal waiting 2 hours for a car rental after being informed that there were no more cars, despite our misguided efforts to reserve them ahead of time online. Tourists there before, during, and after me were infurated, and found other means of transport, i.e., taxi. I just kinda took it as that’s how we roll, and sat on my luggage to wait for a car. Welcome to the American Paradise.


The word I came up with yesterday to best describe my experience back was “constrained”. There is physically no room for outward growth here, so things grown on top of other things or are consumed for other growth. The infrastructure sucks. Some twenty years later, I see some of the same people doing the same things, doing their hustle either with a tourism or government gig, in what I perceive to be the purgatory between the American Dream and a Third World Country’s Nightmare, where groceries are expensive but the rum is cheap. $5, Rum But it wasn’t until I left and returned that I realized how “poor” I was and how “bad off” I had it. Which is all matter of perspective.

The other feeling of being constrained is being reacquainted with the mores and values of my folks. We seem several generations apart and the more I grow with life experience the greater the gap between us. There’s a culture of fear I’d forgotten about that was sewn into my being, I’ve become reaquainted with. To make this work we all have to respect our differences and realize our experiences shape us into who we are.

There’s a lot of domestic violence here. Women getting killed over “slights” by current and former lovers, the two most recent cases in the news both murdered by police officers. Kinda fuels the whole jealous controlling west indian men stereotype.

The heat is off the chain here, I’m going to cite that as a factor to a lot of the craziness going on. I heard a gunshot in the middle of the night the other night – like in close proximity to our house. probably 100-150 feet. we found out that someone shot a dog. There are mad dogs here, and chickens. The Rooster concerto begins at 4:45 AM. Sharp. Everyone’s walled in behind cinderblocks and wrought iron gates. people keep to themselves here.

i have discovered that possibly at the root of my imbalance is the fact that like the Friendship George and the Relationship George from Seinfeld, I’ve evolved into Cosmopolitan Stephen. The one who joined the Army. went to college. got bourgeois. A separate entity from Island Steve. The one who was left with all of the traits of the island folk I perceived as the most negative: loud, uncouth, weilders of broken-English. The more time I spend here the more I am trying to reconcile these two sides.

Easter Sunday was beautiful. I attended an outdoor sunrise service and saw the sun come up over the ocean horizon. Later that afternoon I dropped my camera and it died. Thank goodness for Circuit City Extended Warranties and Cameraphones.

On Easter Monday I took at dip at Coki Point and it was what I needed. It was like a baptism of sorts. I let go of the stress and stopped holding everything at the new standards I was used to. Cosmopolitan Stephen’s hard shell was washed away, and I realized that just because things are different, don’t neccessarily make them inferior.

On the way back to the airport, the power went out, as it frequently does, and I had to scramble to try to pay the guy because the Credit Card processor was down also. Customs almost held me up because I had no birth certificate. News to me, in the post 911-Era.

Other things I’ve learned in my visit:

  • Engaging in Modern Communiction Styles back home seems to do more harm than good.
  • The literal little girl next door is now a 32 year old woman hotter than global warming.
  • This may be the last time I see some of my family members.
  • My home security system people called to scare the hell out of me by asking if my contact list was up to date.

and through an unexpected turn of events, I end up speaking to a brother I never knew I had and I discover my father is still alive. now what?