I know it’s been quite a long time, but things tends to come in cycles I think and so does writing this blog! But the moment is auspicious to start the cycle again! Carl and I are in St. Lucia at the moment, in the Lesser Antilles. We have arrived here by sailing ship no less, the Tres Hombres. After sailing form St. Martin to St. Lucia and then St. Vincent to deliver cargo, we decided to hop off our engine-less cargo ship at it’s return in St. Lucia. And so, in Vieux Fort we landed, after heavy good-byes to our new wonderful friends on the ship.
St. Lucia is not your typical Caribbean getaway. For one, it has no Spanish influence whatsoever in culture, history or language. But it was fought over, rather late in the 1700’s, by the French and English, and changed ownership 14 times! English is the main language, but everybody speak Créole, or Patois as it is called here. It is a volcanic island, and has all the nature and beauty of a place created by such an eruption. Particularly the Pitons, two mountains, one mostly sheer rock, protruding from the island in such a way that cannot be ignored. The Petit and Gros Piton. Majestic can be rightly used here! At the bottom of the Petit Piton lays Soufriere, the oldest town of the island and quite a quirky place. At the bottom of the Gros Piton is where we lay, camping on the beach. St. Lucia also has quite a large community of rastas, especially where we’ve ended up. Now as somebody with dreads and interested in the Rastafari ideology, it’s quite something to stay here. But as a student of anthropology/ethnology, you could not ask for more. (I prefer archeology myself, but as for studying the living, it’s damn more fun and hilarious!)
At the foot of the Gros Piton is the remains of a rum distillery and sugar mill. It is included in the World Heritage site of the Pitons and is taken care of by Paul, a rasta man. He has graciously allowed to stay here if we work a little in his organic garden and occasionally pitch in for food. And so we have for the last 4 weeks. We’ve gotten to know alot of the locals by now, since they all come down to the beach, in order to go to the river or the springs. Paul seems to be a major figure in this community, everybody knows him and must pass on ‘’his land’’ to get water or bath. Since he has also cleaned up the beach, the fishermen have return to use it, their colourful wooden boats laying side by side on a small part of the beach. Paul also has a water taxi with which he has started a tourist business. He gets them from the surrounding towns of hotels and spend the day at the beach. Or climb the Gros Piton. He cooks them some nice Ital food on charcoal of course, and then brings them back. This rasta has it definitely made. Or so it seems.
After four weeks here, this rastafari paradise is somewhat changed in our minds. They are a very smiling and laid-back people who wish you to be as, if not more, laid-back than them. They come down from the village of Lapointe, at the top of a neighbouring hill, to come to the spring and sit with us and have a nice rastafari chat and smoke. Quite welcoming and charming people. But coming from a workaholic boat, this lifestyles is getting alittle bit too much for us, or too little I should say. We must ask Paul every morning if there’s any work to be done or if we can help him with anything and the usual reply is just chill. Upon insisting we might get something to do. Although, if he has guests, then no. If we do not ask, then there is no work for us. It is quite maddening to see other people work and refuse your help! Things could be done faster or at least more enjoyably.
But like all other little communities and small villages, stories, rumours and histories start to come out when you’ve been here long enough. This fate does not escape the rasta. Yet on the whole, the rasta way is something I would like to emulate. Taking your time to do things properly, living as one with nature, meditate, eat organic, vegetarian and usually slow cooked foods. (Although there is some debate going on among rastas about fish here) And generally try to be a better and nicer person who cares and shares more.
After these four weeks of chillin’ hard, occasional work in the garden and climbing the Gros Piton, we are looking forward to moving on. Our next stop is Rodney Bay Marina, where we’ve arranged a passage aboard a sailing yacht that will island hop for some weeks, before heading for Bermuda, Azores and finally Lisbon, Portugal. We are slowly making our way home to Sweden.
Pictures later.
