EGAD Already!? I can’t believe that it has been so long since I written. Much, much has transpired in the past few days (10!) I’m so fearful of losing touch with the important goings on in my lifes past. Time tends to make most events black & white. The greys just fade away. I’m under a time constraint so I better move on.

Most joyful, exciting news is in the family area. Mom & Dad & (presumably) Gramps & Gram are coming down this ‘spring’ sometime. We got a letter stating that she had won a free trip and that Gramps had won a free trip to Puerto Rico. I don’t understand how they ‘won’ the trips I’m just glad that they are coming. I’m also worried about it, too. Worried that they will find our living conditions ‘deplorable’. Worried that they will be hassled as tourists. The poverty and general dirty-ness of Kingstown may overwhelm them. Both Deb and I want it to be an anxiety-relieving (rather than anxiety producing) experience for them. So the news is greeted with both pleasure and concern. Deb and I need to do some scouting around to learn more about St. Vincent and the Grenadines. We also need to find them suitable lodgings. We would like them to stay at our house but doubt that we could support them in the manner to which they have become accustomed. I doubt our beds or our board would be able to keep up with four people. Plus the Ambassadors Club, the lizards, the roaches and (more recently) the dreaded ‘40-legs’ I doubt would be a comfortable experience. We will entertain however and be more than happy to show them around the place and perhaps, go to Bequia while they are here. Frought with anxiety, we’re glad to hear that they are coming down to see us!

The next activity of great satisfaction is our garden. After faithfully turning sod, weeding and tossing out rocks we’re finally toward the end of our labors. I set bamboo posts for the fencing and just need to wait until we find an economical supply of chicken wire and also need to wait for our living allowance to be deposited. After two weekends of nothing but digging and weeding, the worst of it is over. We have the seeds (save the sweet pepper and cabbage) and need only buy some insecticide and spray can.

The next bit of news is that we may get a dog which is both a blessing and a possible ‘curse’. I would like to have a dog to patrol the yard and also for companionship. It would be a nice diversion for Deb and I. But it would restrict our freedom and drain our pockets. Mrs Douyon says she’ll take care of the expense and responsibility when we are away but I hate to saddle her with such a burden. We’ll see.

Deb really opened by eyes last night. She was talking about how much I looked to “home” as being in SLC with my family rather than with her here in St. Vincent. I have never given that much thought, really. She said she was jealous of that relationship and close family ties that brought “home” to mean my mom and family rather than her. I do look to SLC as “home” but not in such a concrete way. Being away from my family and the U.S. both has put a great deal of stress into my life (I’d love to see my BP). To relieve that stress I think of a return to “things familiar” in the states and I tend to conceptualize it all into the house in SLC where Mom and Dad live. Granted, my true home (literally) is here in St. Vincent. But if indeed “home is where the heart is” then home is in SLC because my heart, my longing, is, right now, to be there. Perhaps not always easy to accept but nonetheless a very real feeling. Yet having to choose between here with Deb and the states with Mom and Dad I would definitely stay here. No doubt about that.

I’ve spent all day just sitting and reading. In fact, the last two weeks have been an exercise in patience. I’m extremely frustrated (perhaps, not the only time?). I know there is a great deal of work to be done but I can’t do. Mostly because Mr Gaynes has not approved the paperwork necessary to begin my data collection on the jobs here. The possibilities for what to do with the data, once obtained, are endless. However, without the completed questionnaires, I am helpless. I’m also missing the academic resources necessary to ‘branch out’ into other areas of interest. I’m also concerned that Mr. Gaynes will be the ‘bottleneck’ of the operation. Last, I am emotionally/psychologically having problems dealing with the cultural pressures. On one hand, I anxious to begin doing something if only to occupy my time and get the calendar moving again. On the other hand, I can withdraw and ‘hide’ from the anxiety producing confrontations that arise from day to day living in St. Vincent. I want to work, but I don’t want to. I’m frustrated in just sitting here, but I think I’d rather sit here. I could explore and go around and meet people but it’s just too “costly” to me as yet. Should I be content and patient with a slow start (which I did, in fact, anticipate) or should I leap to action in the American tradition. I swore last week that this Monday I would force myself to confront this potentially disabling situation. And yet I sit in the office and read. I make my mind up to visit and office or dept head, then forestall the commitment . It’s maddening & potentially dangerous because I can ‘feel’ depression just around the corner. I am very much afraid of becoming depressed because I know what a rapid, downward spiral that can become. The homesickness, the feeling of uselessness the cultural ‘shock’ could easily push one over the brink. I’m skirting the borders of it now. I am afraid to tell Deb about it because it’s such a flighty and transient feeling that I can’t tell whether I am becoming depressed or suffering from the psychological shock of just being here. I don’t want to alarm here (because of my previous psych problems). I’ve noticed that she has been showing more signs of the impact of this place and I don’t want to add to her burden of trying to deal with this place. She has been more negative toward work than I’ve ever known her to be. My bellyaching about my situation could only exacerbate the problem. We have pretty effectively balanced each other out emotions-wise. If we should both be ‘down’ at the same time I don’t know what would happen. So I try to hang in there. As much for my own well being as for hers.

Keith (A.T. Keith) came in from B’Dos this week and will be staying with Deb & I this weekend. A nice change of scenery and a good refresher on the B’dos crowd of E.C.33’s We’re going to Bequia on Saturday so at least we’ll have 1 Grenadine island on our list of places visited.

We had a real ‘up’ weekend so I wanted to write it down quick! Seems like mostly negative stuff gets written in here so I figured I’d better capitalize on my high emotions and write.

First we had Keith (Paulsen) from EC-33 (now in B’dos) stay with us this weekend. Though it strains our budget (to put it very mildly) its also very nice to have him. Not that Deb and I are bored with each other (hardly). Its just that ‘third person’ relationships help us put our experience in perspective. We were overjoyed to have him complement our home and surroundings and I’ve been amazed that the Ambassadors have hardly played at all. I’m sure that this place appears to be very ideal to him. Lately, it has been. He also talked about EC-33 volunteers in B-dos so we have caught up on that gossip. I’m feeling better about Debs & my experience here in St. Vincent. Not only because I know that other volunteers are having a tougher time, but just because I’ve begun to want to stay here. And I know that this experience is being shared all over the EC (and the world for that matter). There is a kinship there. A rather tenuous thread which links PCV’s in a way which can’t be duplicated. Yeah, its still tough. I’ll still get depressed (seem more manic/depressive – I’m manic now). I want to see my family. But the bottom line is that I’m feeling OK about being here. I don’t know how long that will last but I do know that I like the feeling.

The second thing which made this a nice weekend was the trip to Bequia. The boat trip was fine (if crowded). I saw actual flying fish for the first time. I fell in love with sailboats! Bequia is a sailors haven. I could just imagine sailing down from Florida or even the NE coast to come to Bequia. Its beautiful. The beaches were clean, quiet and virtually uninhabited. Though the coral was the greatest, the snorkling was OK. Swimming was great. Its really the tropical island. Quaint shops, boats on the beach and in the harbor. It’s quite a place.

Thirdly, we went to the beach at Ottley Hall (Keith & I). We swam out to the wreak and along the beautiful reefs there. Found some huge sand dollars. Basically it was good exausting fun. Keith has rented a bike so we may go to Barroulli today and check out some projects going there. But the bike came in handy in going to Ottley and up to Fort Charles. Things are looking up for now.

This is just to put this manic/depressive thing in perspective...Got a letter from Mom this AM (small packet actually) which contained a letter, a Zion “Herald” and two Poli Sci exams (from 1980!). I suddenly realized just how poor a form of communication a written letter is. Mom said she’d be sending along Debs files and books bit it would cost “a fortune”. I thought I had said for her to send the files (at any cost) But to bag the books if they were too expensive. Sounds like she is sending the whole thing. Egad. It is so frustrating to deal long distance. I’ve got to call and it all straight if possible (another expense). So that letter, and its full implication, has burst my bubble.

Another thing. Mom sent along a X-mas letter from the Yapps who live in England. Charlie when on and on about Prince Charles & Lady Di, how they met & were asked to a party, etc. Both the Yapps children have very good jobs with General Foods. Just because George “got them in the door”. Made me realize just how much the “rich get richer and the poor get poorer” is a real statement of the conditions of man. The rich have the means to perpetuate themselves, the poor just struggle to stay alive. Grant that Jeff & Nancy have something on the ball or else GF would send them packing. But are the same employment opportunities offered to all on an equal basis? Or was it that Mr. Yapp gave them a little push? I guess I am angry in that I know I could perform or out perform Jeff or Nancy but I’ll never have the chance. Life just isn’t that way. The poor here in St. Vincent would love to have the same chance as those two. I doubt they even come close….

The first thing I wanted to sit down and write. The weather is cool & rainy. Buckets have been falling since early AM. “Oregon Day” I think Oregon would be much like this in summer. The weather, heat-wise has been too forgiving. I begin to worry about ‘melting’ when the hot part of the year begins in June. Only 5 months away. How soon that seems. July, Deb and I plan to attend a conference in B-dos (24th-31st). Seems that Mom (from the latest letters) will not be coming down for sure. Perhaps she was dreaming or stretching the truth a bit. I’m not hurt, just surprized I was not more cynical when I first heard she was coming. I usually temper mom’s unusually enthusiastic plans/goals for the future. Take ‘em with a grain of salt. I guess I was just too anxious to have her here. So, Deb & I are back to square one on our travel plans. Though we haven’t heard mom’s plans for sure, we’ve decided to plan our ‘Easter get away’ to some other islands(s). Need to do more exploring about. I would really enjoy a few days on another island. Need to contact other EC-33’s…

Yesterdays trip to the Leeward side was an eye opener. I found what shocked me the most was that I wasn’t appalled by the living conditions. I guess my ‘standards’ have changed. Indeed, the small rickety shacks were just one step above living in the open air. Some were merely collections of galvanized or planks haphazardly leaned together. Some were the most rudimentary beginnings of structure; four posts, a roof, with planks, bamboo, pieces of galvanized making up the walls. Greater sophistication was shown in the building of s ‘wobble’ frame which was posts & woven bamboo sides. A step up was wobble & daub in which the bamboo was covered with chicken wire and then cement. Some houses were built with T&G planking. However, the most sophisticated would have been a low standard house in the U.S. So, as I stood amid the shacks in the ‘Glebe’ I was amazed at how little I was revulsed by my surroundings. I pity the children. The poor little urchins are barely clothed. Some appear to have eaten little. I saw few males at the homes looking after the children. They males can be found sitting under trees talking & working a soccer ball among themselves (which appears to be the only talent they have). Actually, I was overwhelmed by the immensity of the task for any development organization. The Gov’t has done a bit of housing but there empty units. CaDEC has been very involved in housing rehab but is having limited success. Mostly because the people have not taken responsibility for themselves. They think the housing has been ‘given’ to them so they expect more. The land was given to them so why hot a house? I find the same “more, more” attitude here as I found in SLC housing rehab. If you give them a door, they want a free door knob, too. First I was saying these people (Vincentian ‘Glebe’ residents) have no pride. No initiative. No hope for getting out of this mess. Then, I suddenly realized I was generalizing. Seems to me that most (if not all) chronically poor people suffer from this “give me more” attitude. I have no idea from here it comes but it seem to have a universal component. It may be tied up in this “Rich get richer, poor get poorer” rhetoric. The socio-economic web is spun in great complexity here.

I could press on with my thesis on why males lack responsibility in general. And females seem to so willingly jepordize the lives of their children but I won’t. Mostly because the interrelationships are just beginning to make sense to me. Its tied up in the whole picture of the “life is cheap”. But just one more thing. While waiting at the service station to get gas, a woman came up to Lylee Cato (who was driving) and told him in dispassionate almost whimsical terms that her son had been ‘lost’ on friday. Died shortly after birth. Lylee cheerfully said that there would be others. What was lacking in the whole conversation was grief, remorse a sense of loss. Perhaps life is cheap here but that doesn’t mean it is meaningless.