Journal of the Caribbean

Journal of the Caribbean

 

Dec.30, 2009

         

My Aunt is watching Booga.

 

And as paranoid as I am, it pales in comparison to the paranoia of my aunt who lived through the antiqued hell of my grandfather's rage.

We called last night to check to see if Booga had a nice birthday (otherwise we would leave it alone. You see having a birthday at Christmas is almost like having no birthday at all because you get forgotten by everyone. My poor brother is testimony to this, because his birthday is Christmas day. Unfortunately, Booga and two of his uncles, and four of my nephews share December as their natal month….It stinks. So I have often moved Booga's birthday to the middle of January so that he can have a day apart from the holiday festivities). Luckily he had gone with an old friend's daughter for his birthday and was completely happy and satisfied with the birthday he had.

           

However…... (My one eyebrow raises) my aunt had called the police on my brother-in-law, because he had committed the heinous act of trying to work on his 67 Chevelle in our pole barn.

 

In all fairness, we probably should have told her that he might be coming over and really should have informed our families that she would be A) staying with Booga, which we thought we had and B) to call before coming over because she was liable to call the police on an overly aggressive ball of lint under the couch.

 

My brother-in-law getting the police called on him is the least of my concerns though, as I have to have my sister-in-law sign papers for guardianship for Booga when I get home. Oh good. So now, I have to apologize for that. And to top that off, apparently (and I find this hard to believe, but oh well…) my aunt's cell phone didn't work in our area??? So she was using our house phone to call my mother every day (who she calls every day when she is home, even though she lives three houses away from my parents) and has called one of my brothers to wish him a happy birthday… (This couldn't have waited till she got home or she couldn't have preemptively sent him a card?) And has also had to apparently call one of her neighbors because she was worried about one her many many cats.

 

Okay, I have two cats. I have three when my in-laws are in Florida. I wouldn't have her but I couldn't see my father-in-law putting her to sleep simply because he didn't want to take her to Florida (What?!?) I know….I know what you're thinking and you're probably absolutely right. But, I can't have that on my conscious, I'm sorry.

But my aunt has like, three cats in her house and three or more cats outside her house and will feed cats that randomly come to her house and has taken in strays and it's just ridiculous because she has cat food cans everywhere. She has some kind of disorder where she can't throw anything away so she has a path through her house. She's something of a hoarder and its stupid crazy what she saves.

 

But I hired her to watch Booga because Booga is easy, it's easy money for her and she is the only one of my family capable of doing so-or at least the only available one. I am sure someone else is quite capable of watching Booga.

 

My parents are elderly; my brothers are too busy and too far away, as are my nieces and nephews or my nieces and nephews are too young. But, currently I am considering whether or not to try and find some other sort of arrangement for Booga if we decide ever to go on a vacation again without him.

 

Here is the problem. I need to be away from him. Here is another problem; Finding someone to watch him that I am not going to have to stress over.

 

New words that I find myself adding to my vocabulary, however am unable to spell: "Convivial", "Diaphanous", and "Fresh Hell".

 

 Your guess on that last one.

 

 

One of the most astounding things about the Caribbean is the water.

 

The waves come up and just as they are impossibly posed for some kind of ballet where they just keep going up, they tip over into a frothy mess. I think one of the most amazing pictures I have in my mind is that of someone or "something" inside of what surfers call "the tube" or "tubular" which is something you hear surfers say a lot. This is "tubular" or that is "tubular", well, this is what I imagine they are referring to…

It's the underside of that curl, which is the result of that falling over that the water does.

 

What is the ridiculousness of this writing that I seem to be doing? I mean how insane is that? Like anyone would read anything I wrote and think it was worthy of anything more than just setting your cup of coffee on?

 

Currently I am watching the antics of our neighbor here at the resort who seems to be five minutes from rehab. Similar creatures have been found floating along headily in our family's DNA.

 

I worry about a native people so desperately seeking the dollar than they are willing to sell anything ….And I mean anything….

 

The dollar is way down people…..WAY DOWN….

 

Unfortunately for them, it is still far above their own.

 

Dec 31, 2009

 

In Jamaica a few of things are quite evident:

A)    Things are agonizingly slow here.

B)     That's the way they like it.

C)    If something is broken in your resort…It might not get fixed in your stay.

D)    We American's just don't get it.

 

It's true. We don't.

 

In some cases, in some areas of the United States, the issue is "How fast can you get it done?" As opposed to "How much will it cost?" and in other's it's the other way around depending on the economic climate of that particular area.

 

In Jamaica, it's not even a cost issue. It's not a time issue. It's just the way of things.

 

Slow and easy.

 

I think it's the heat.

 

One night, we went for dinner and it was two hours before we got served and then they didn't have everything that we ordered. They came back with "We're out of bread." (And apparently hamburger buns are not considered bread…Because someone ordered a hamburger after us and got it on a bun.)…So, no sandwich's.

Okay.

 

However, we did have a great meal at a place called "Sweet Spice" in Negril and quickly too…Which to overweight, hungry, American's on a schedule- that's critical.

 

My husband had the worst headache yesterday and attributed it to the sun and heat (and not eating enough- I threw that in there because he wasn't eating enough).

I could have bought the whole heat thing if my husband wasn't part Native American and far darker than myself.

I've got my whole German-Irish-Scottish-English, pure ivory-white skinned self, that uses SPF 85 thing going on over here and I'm not in a dark room nursing a headache because of the heat and the sun.

And you have to understand that SPF 85 is almost like wearing a cream-based lead vest over your entire body (except my legs that for some reason, until this day never burnt ever…) while in the sun.

 

Nope wasn't buying it.

 

He's had a head cold and he hasn't eaten regular meals and he has blood sugar issues and he was not being straight with me. So later in the afternoon after he had spent three hours in a dark room trying to get rid of a headache, he came out…… and I went into the water.

 

Couple of reasons for this:

1)      Because I was so angry I didn't want to be on the beach with him.

2)      And because my legs were literally on fire and needed to be put out lest I be in agony all night.

3)      And he wasn't being straight with me. Okay.

 

He wasn't being straight with me. He needed to eat, so when I tell him to eat he needed to eat. For one thing I had told him that he needed to eat a sandwich this afternoon when he was in the room so that he could level his blood sugar and he didn't listen.

I can do nothing for him. Nothing, if he doesn't do it for himself. I can't force him to eat.

If he doesn't do what I tell him to do when he needs to do it –I can do nothing to MAKE HIM DO IT!

I cannot watch his blood-pressure, cholesterol level, sugar level, for him and he doesn't want me too either; but when I tell him he really should do something it's not so that I can have some kind of weird-mind-control power over him. It's because we all need to be reminded to do things from time to time and he has a tendency to forget to eat or take medication…And so on…

 

Now something men everywhere need to understand.

 

If your wife or girlfriend or mother or whatever you want to call them walks away, and you know they are angry…Unless they blatantly tell you, "DON'T FOLLOW ME!"

Then by all means, follow them….Because they are angry and need to vent to you.

 

Conference time fella's…

 

And of course I had to come out of the water and invite him into the water.

 

So here we are and I'm standing in the Caribbean and I'm crying and begging and he's doing the whole "kicking the dirt with his foot" thing under the water, while trying to pretend to inspect some piece of seaweed.

 

Finally we got to the point where we walked back and forth and we talked about the blood sugar issues and how important it is to be straight with me… (If I give you a solution you should try it before you knock it.)

We talked about the water.

We talked about the Jamaican trees, and the different species and what they would be like if he had to grind one. Would they be like a palm tree or like a pine tree or would they be like a southern hard wood?

 

We talked about the fact that I love the idea of being on vacation however, I hate the fuss and bother of vacations. The whole packing, getting on through the airport-I hate that.

I love to fly though…I love flying. I just don't like airports. And he agreed. Airports are no longer as fun as they used to be because of the security, but they have to be that way anymore. This is all true. And he pointed out that I need time and space away from Booga- and that in some respects I am defined by Booga, which is scary- really.

 

I mean, I would like my own persona apart from Booga and I had that working in Information Technologies.

But, in all reality:

                        Work vs. Booga

                        Booga wins.

                        I quit.

                        Persona redefined.

And so here I am.

 

And he's right. Sometimes it's the "Booga Show."

 

My life does in a big way get over shadowed by Booga's and this is not the way I planned it.

 

My husband writes things under "Spouses Occupation" as "Housewife" whereas a few years ago it would have been, "Lab Assistant" or "Information Technology" or "Computer Diva" or anything other than "Housewife".

 

Ugh.

 

There are times I wish people knew how much more to there is aside from "Booga's mom".

 

I'm not vapid, I'm not one of those moms that go to support groups and gripes about doctors and teachers and therapist.  I feel like a highly educated, Martha Stewart wannabe with delusions of motherhood of an autistic child.

 

Of course in many ways that is way too general.

 

*wink*