Sunrise, Sunset

During the four days we spent with Eric before he left Chase would get up early to learn the ropes before the heat of the day set in.

One of the most important things at this time, with the drought thoroughly entrenched, was watering the orchard and garden, and thankfully, Chase took primary control over that one while I got to sleep in.

So at the crack of dawn Chase would go down to the orchard and spend an hour or so watering the trees. It's a painstaking procedure, as each tree needs to be watered by hand,  enough so as to break through the bone-dry surface (heard of an irrigations system?), and at a rough estimate there's about forty trees to get through. Working for just an hour a morning he can't possibly get through the whole orchard in a day so instead he does a row each day until the whole orchard is watered and then the cycle starts again. Fun. Soon enough, he figured to take a book with him down there to curb his boredom.

Chase would eat breakfast somewhere during the sun's arrival with Eric who also got up persistently early. One morning they ate in town at the local bakery, which Chase informed me was pretty good (and, of course, I look forward to trying it), and another morning they left me some of their mornings tidbits, including some freshly sliced guanábana. Remember this spindly fruit, the soursop, that I mentioned grew on the property in the last post? This is what it's flesh looks like, which looks somewhat like coconut don't you think?

The flesh is soft and juicy, but stringy. According to Wikipedia, it "consists of an edible, white pulp and a core of indigestible, black seeds..." and  "...its flavor has been described as a combination of strawberry and pineapple with sour citrus flavor notes contrasting with an underlying creamy flavor reminiscent of coconut or banana"; sounds a lot like a product label, doesn't it? But it did have an interesting taste, it wasn't quite the flavour explosion that wikipedia promised but it's subtle flavour was creamy with a hint of banana.

It was way to stringy for me to eat so I just sucked the juice out of it, which, when I looked it up it said it was best juiced than eaten raw anyway because its pockets of soft flesh bounded by fibrous membranes make it difficult to eat [1]. Once juiced it's also supposed to be great in candies, sorbets, and ice cream (I found an interesting recipe for ice-cream here). It also seems it's a bit of a Wonder Fruit too, having all kinds of medicinal properties from: antibacterial, antiparasitic, antispasmodic, astringent, hypotensive, insecticide, sedative, and cytotoxic[2]."

By mid-morning, another pattern started to emerge: with all his chores done for the day Chase would take his book to relax in the hammock. After a couple of hours, having not seen him for a while, I'd go out to see what he was doing and find him sound asleep, the book abandoned across his chest.

But I don't blame him, if there was a good spot to fall asleep, this was it; underneath the shade of the vines growing over the pergola the temperature was instantly 10⁰F cooler, whilst a hint of a light breeze would waft in through the branches, making it almost pleasant. And when you're not sleeping you can gaze lazily out between the gap in the luminiscent foilage and be beguiled by the dream-like view.

From this vantage point, it really could be paradise.

If you weren't layered up to your ears in Deet.

And eventually the heat of the day will push its way through till it's no longer comfortable even here.

Yes, it's not just warm here, it's hot; and it's hard to believe the hottest part of the year is yet to come. By mid-morning, although my day is only just beginning, the enveloping heat starts to invade the apartment and I will begin to feel so lethargic that I can't bring myself to do much at all. I know I should get up early, but hey, I was sort of on "holiday". Besides, there really wasn't any work for me to do here and it was hard to get motivated to do much else.

Meanwhile, I didn't see too much of Eric during the day unless we went into town. I'd usually hear him and Chase discussing something early in the morning while I was still snoozing in bed, but otherwise he'd be upstairs, almost non-existent. Chase said he was up there playing sodoku on his Kindle or trawling the internet. Not really the deeds of a man that was leaving this huge handful of a property to house-sitters for 6 months, but we shrugged and assumed he knew what he was doing.

So we went into town with Eric a couple of times so he could show us a few other things we needed to be able to find. Apart from the dump and the Vet he also took us to the Tuesday farmer's market. That's where we encountered that strange but familiar Aussie accent for the first time since leaving the home-country at the beginning of April.

First of all I smiled from that warm feeling that floods you on hearing that familiar sound in a world so unfamiliar. Then I laughed, because hearing it in this isolated context I could really grasp the absurd, nasal stretch of every word with that comical up swing at the end of each sentence. It really is a funny accent.

But lastly, I cringed, as did Chase; fellow Aussie's abroad, in general experience, weren't usually people you wanted to run into. Furthermore, they were encroaching on our own frontier experience. It seems you can never be the only Aussie in a place; after meeting that one in Luquillo I thought at least Vieques would be free of them! I mean, it should have be an oddity that even we would find ourselves here on this little-known island, let alone more of us. It's definitely not a place that's on the Aussie radar.

We tried to ignore them but we ran into them again at the supermarket, and it was now inevitable that we should meet. But as it turns out they were quite nice and friendly. They are a semi-retired couple from the south coast of New South Wales, and what's more, they are also house-sitting here for 6 months. While I was surprised at first I began to realise it would only be natural to meet other house-sitters in a place like this, with many foreigners migrating back and forth between the States, and soon I was feeling less reluctance to know them and more relief that these people were going to be here, in the same boat we were, hopefully feeling as anxious about the place as we were, for the next 6 months. As they didn't have a mobile phone or know their home number we gave them ours and would anxiously await to hear from them in the coming weeks.

But back to the farmer's market. It wasn't quite your traditional farmer's market with local farmers selling their wares directly to the people, but it was kind of neat. The one produce stall was a big U-shaped set-up of fruit and veg which wasn't locally grown, not even from the mainland of Puerto Rico but seemed to come, like everything else, from the United States. There were two other stalls beside that one, one was a lady selling plants, and the other was a friendly couple with a bread which they did make themselves. In fact, the star-fruit Chase had spent the morning picking was traded for a nice loaf of home made bread to go with dinner.

Speaking of dinner, Eric prepared or provided all our dinners while he was there, which was very nice of him, and not only that, he turns out to be a pretty good cook. One night he made something particularly Puerto Rican-esque for us, which at first startled me - Goat Stew.

But I tackled it like a champ and it was actually really tasty and not only that, the Caribbean version supplements green bananas for the starch in the meal. You cook it down like the rest of the vegetables in the pot, and you know what? It holds it's shape and tastes just like potato!

Sitting upstairs at Eric's dining table at the end of the day with a glass of wine in our hands was extremely relaxing. I might get used to this yet. Persistently, our eyes would draw to the open sky in front of us, and it was right now at this time of day in particular when I could understand best why Eric wanted to bring the view into his house: it provided a spectacular sunset show. While most of the time the clouds would encroach on what would otherwise be the blazing orange of the sun being swallowed up by the Sierra de Luquillo mountains, it didn't matter, the pattern and intense colour spattered across the sky was mesmerising.

Chase and I on our last night with Eric

Paradise Spoilt - Part 2: Disappointment



Oahu, Hawaii

When one thinks of the words Caribbean or Tropical Island, one generally thinks things like: sun, fun, lazy days on the hammock, lying on white sandy beaches and swimming in crystal clear seas.

In a word: paradise.

One does not think: mosquitoes, no-see-ums, sand-flies, fire ants, tarantulas, lizards, cockroaches, iguanas, wasps and all kinds of stinging plants. And that's just what I've figured out so far. All those wonderful things associated with the Caribbean that I should be doing here on this island, are spoiled by a multitude of unruly pests that are growing by the day!

So why didn't any of this cross my mind when we were contemplating this venture? I can't believe I didn't at least consider the mosquitoes! That should've been the most obvious. But surely the rest I can claim ignorance to without too much stupidity.
 
For as it turns out, the Caribbean - or at least this island, is not paradise.

Yet, come to think about it, the atmosphere, hot and sweet, is ripe for an explosion of these organisms.

Yet nobody tells you the mosquitos are going to intrude on that peaceful sleep in the hammock, or the minute you stand still ants could swarm your feet like militia reacting to a breach of their territory, even a brush with the wrong plant will leave you burning before you know what's happened.

Let's just say it's not something they advertise in the brochures.

But surely this is rampant all over the Caribbean, not just this island, and surely not even the resorts can be immune to the most notorious pest. Do people really put up with it? Because I can't; these varmin are sucking the island vibe out of me.

I don’t like creepy crawly things but I can put up with most things as long as they don’t sting or bite, like the lizards. They're even kind of cute. It's lucky for me that I don't mind them, because they are everywhere. Big ones, smalls ones, all kinds of varieties, even chameleons (who look so funny doing their little 'push-ups' with their front limbs). They swarm the patio lounging in the sun then dart across the pavement startled by the slightest noise. Jasper spends his day chasing them, he loves it. 

I can even handle the cockroaches, though I'd rather not. But the mosquitoes and ants are the sting in my step. I don't actually see them much, but I know they are there by the little itchy bumps that appear all over my skin. Inside or outside there is no relief, since we need to leave the glass doors open because of the heat. The screen doesn't help, let alone the gaps in the doors from the shoddy building. Then down in the orchard hide bands of ant hills. I learnt that my first day. Luckily I haven't encountered the fire-ants yet, I hear they are brutal, but I'm not looking to find out. I've decided to stay clear of the orchard as much as possible.

A friend decides to join us in the apartment

There is just so many things that are vicious here. Apparently they’ve adapted all kinds of defence mechanisms, for what I don’t know. How tough can it be evolving in paradise? Apparently it’s brutal. Or maybe, ultimately and ironically, it was a fight against human expansion that brought it on, otherwise without these things, it could be perfect - and everyone would move in!

I mean, how can you enjoy the beautiful weather, the fresh air, and beaches aplenty, when you're giving your skin over to the parasitical warlords?

With that aside, there are the things no one expects of paradise: the drought, the garbage, the  the crime. Those are the things you can escape from if you're in a five-star resort and pretend it's not there. But that would not do for me either. I couldn't cover my eyes to the realities of the island even if I was staying in a five-star resort, I might as well have not travelled so far. Anyway, for me its about discovery, not just the confines of a resort that is practically uniform no matter where you go.

Which brings me to my point: that it's a big disappointment, and a shame really, that an island, especially one so undeveloped, and one purported to have the best beaches in the Caribbean - maybe the world - should be so... well, ugly.

There is hardly any character in the town, barely even a glimpse left in those buildings from a bygone era. Regardless, bars on all the windows destroy what little character remains. Roads crumble underneath too much traffic. And then there's the trash. It seems to be an island devoid of charm and dignity. How can you turn this into a tourist haven?

Can you believe we found this chair?!

Litter trails everywhere the eye can see, in people's yards, along the roads, even the beaches are used as a dumping ground. On our second day here we took off to experience our first dip in the island's waters. Not knowing our way around yet we decided to go to the closest beach that Eric had pointed out to us which was near the dump and the Vet. He told us it wasn't the best beach for swimming, more a place to take the dogs, because it was very rocky in the water.

This was true but it was otherwise a nice little secluded beach with a view to the other island Culebra - well, it would've been nice, but we found it also marred by waste. On entering the beach we were met by a huge mountain of construction debris. Someone had just dumped their leftovers right here, about this beautiful beach. What made it more confounding was the dump was only about a kilometre away! Chase also found a few discarded beach chairs, one of which he decided was fit enough for his own use (as you can see in the picture above). He decided to keep it while the other he also put in the back of the car to dispose of properly.

Now don’t get me wrong, I've been to tropical islands before; we went to Vanuatu on our honeymoon. In many respects there is a lot that’s comparable to that island. Yet in many other ways it’s so completely different, and Vanuatu blows Vieques out of the water. 

The local market in the capital 'city' Port Vila

Like Vieques, Vanuatu has a poor economy, a forceful jungle, and a very small and basic main 'city', it has also been used and abused by the Americans in pursuit of war. It even has mosquitoes, a major nuisance, but one that can be endured considering it was the only nuisance. Vanuatu ranks highly in my pursuit of paradise: verdant volcanic mountains and valleys, vibrant reefs and plunging waterfalls, a unique culture full of tradition, and while the better beaches were hard to get to, they were none-the-less pleasing.

Some friendly Ni Vanuatu kids giving us the thumbs up

But ultimately, it’s the positive attitude and cultural spirit of the inhabitants that makes this little Melanesian island really special. How the Ni-Vanuatu people choose to live amongst such similar adversities is strikingly different to the Viequense. The Ni-Vanuatu seem to be the happiest, most friendly, people we have ever met; crime is almost non-existent (there's only a handful of people in their jail) and they don't seem to disregard their land they way the Puerto Ricans do. Certainly, the isolation may have been more prominent to me had I been living there not holidaying, but it would've at least taken me longer to notice.　

And then there's Hawaii. That might have been the catalyst to my disappointing reaction to Vieques right there: I love Hawaii and we stopped there on the way to Puerto Rico. From that, to this, really emphasises the differences between these two worlds, and they are vast. It was the second time we'd visited Hawaii and I have to say, it might be the closest thing I have found so far that comes close to my notion of paradise - even if this time it rained most of our trip (but I guess that's what you need to keep it from looking as it does in Vieques). Of the two Hawaiian islands I've been to, the Big Island and Oahu, Oahu is my favourite. It’s got everything I need: daunting jagged mountains, all kinds of beaches from serene to surfable, and enchanting rustic towns. It has one big city for every materialistic want you may crave (and I do have some, I must say) but it's not too over-crowded or brazen, and even has some charming and historical structures. 
 

And as I recall I never got bitten by anything. Not once.

Now, as I sit here and contemplate my fate, I'm feeling rather despondent. But it's early days. We have more to discover and learn, and we haven't even found the good beaches yet (if there really are any). With all my might I'm trying to shrug off this feeling and keep my thoughts positive. First impressions can be deceiving.

And, here's a positive: at least there are no snakes!