thanksgivings

Thanksgiving was weird.  Leah went to class and except for  the English ex-pat manager of the Smoke 'N' Booze telling me to enjoy my holiday as I was leaving with my duty-free wine, there wasn't any mention of the day at all, really.  Like, duh, obviously, but it still felt bizarre.  I missed being at home, but I could imagine, I think pretty well, what was going on. On the morning of Thanksgiving, my mother was in a nightgown/housecoat with her hair in a sweaty ponytail, stuttering harried orders to get some pot or another from the basement.  My mother, if you don't know her, cannot find words when she's stressed. So she'll just say whatever comes to mind first, which leaves her frustrated and the listener amused, like, "Get the...the toaster off my bed and make sure it's folded".  She always ends these statements with, "You know what I mean", and surprisingly, we always do. My father vacuumed and made the antipasto.  Around 1pm, the McCues started trickling in, and there were manhattans and scotches on rocks and then finally, dinner was served, and maybe it was a little late, but oh wow, everything is so delicious, Paula! (it really is - I especially missed my mom's stuffing. and the lima beans. and the stuffed mushrooms. oh, and the other mushrooms.) And my cousin Deedee didn't talk to anyone until she had seconds, because she can't waste time with conversation: she's only got around twenty minutes until her stomach signals to her brain that it's full, after all.  Sometimes people say what they're thankful for and there's always a ton of laughing and everyone is SO freaking loud. I was glad that I was able to imagine it so well, because even though I made a turkey dinner for two (using the weird, cross-section cut of drumstick that we realized as we took our first bites STILL HAD QUILLS IN IT) and we tried to skype with our families, it wasn't the same. 

gravy boat mug

The next day we met with some friends for a potluck, and it was there that we got uncomfortably, painfully, Thanksgivingly full. The kind of full where it's impossible to sit, but standing's no good either, and shit, laying down hurts in a whole new way. There were multiple desserts, was what really did it - I'm looking at you, peanut butter pie and you, chocolate tart with the whipped cream and the raspberry sauce.  I brought a pumpkin pie pudding type thing (because we don't have an oven here), that was a no-bake situation using gelatin, which made me nervous that it was going to be like pumpkin jello, but it was smooth and creamy and really delicious, and made me want to be the "Such a hit! If I could give this recipe 10 stars, I would!" person on the reviews.  But really, if I could give it ten stars, I would, and next year I'm going to pour it into a gingersnap crust and share it with my family. 

snorkeling and scallion pancakes

Leah and I went for an unplanned snorkel this morning - unplanned in that we meant to go for a exercisey swim, like a huff-and-puff, my-arms-are-sore-from-this swim. But the  Caribbean Sea was at its clearest, calmest, and most glittery gorgeous today, so as soon as we started, we saw tons and tons of amazingly beautiful tropical fish and huge, awesome coral, and any ideas we had about cardiovascular workouts were quickly forgotten. We doodled around for the next hour, trying to get each other's attention by pointing excitedly when something was particularly cool and giving the underwater thumbs-up.  We saw ALL THE THINGS! So many tropical fish! It really felt like we were in a giant version of a dentist's office fish tank. We had to swim through schools of teeny fish, the little silver kind that look like they'd show up in an Asian snackfood - thousands of them, all darting from one direction to the next totally in unison, like they had a single brain.  There were iridescent fish and spotted fish, weirdly shaped long ones and so many different colors - electric blues and yellows and greens! And the biggest brain coral in the world, probably. I wish we had some pictures, but we don't have an underwater camera, so I took some from this awesome website that identifies fish for you:

it was kind of like this!

oh yeah, we saw tons of these clowns.

bluehead wrasse - looks like a sneaker to me. there was another fish that I thought looked like a crossword, so...

trumpetfish!

Blue Tang. bluetie tang. 

Later this evening I made scallion pancakes because I thought I'd make the day even more excellent. They were flaky and greasy and great; tasted just like scallion pancakes, though I did miss the hoisin sauce.  I used this recipe and after I gobbled up the testers (that's what the first two of any kind of pancake are called, right?), I brought them over to where Leah is studying with a couple of friends, because I'm the greatest. 

ginger wine rolling pin

this is hard for me to look at because now they're all gone. I miss you, my little delicious one.

Governor General

I've been helping to plan a fun run/walk event for the Special Olympics chapter here in St. Kitts, only because my supervisor at Ade's Place was assigned to do it and I've pretty much become her assistant.  The chairman of the board of the Special Olympics is a stern, ornery older man named Mr. Lazar (names are in general much more formal here; for the most part, people are known by their title and surname) who stutters a firm disagreement to any and every suggestion put forth to him and ends all of our frustratingly pointless planning meetings by speaking (not singing) the lyrics of "Tell Laura I love her".  Which is weird, yeah, but made weirder because the song ends in vehicular death and undying love - what was with that theme in pop songs in the early 60s?  Anyway, Mr. Lazar is maybe a little senile and definitely very hard to work with, but he's well-meaning and invited me to the Special Olympics annual "appreciation dinner" at the Governor-General's house.  Because I'm an ignorant jerk (what kind of person lives in a country for almost three months and doesn't know the structure of that country's government?), I had to look up who this "governor general" was - turns out, he's like - THE guy. He's as high as it goes in St. Kitts. And his house?  Is a mansion.

Sir Cuthbert Sebastian

 When I first arrived, people were nervously waiting outside the grounds, not knowing if it was time to go in, and I realized that I was inappropriately underdressed: all of the women were wearing mother-of-the-bride type gowns with shiny things in their hair and special-occasion jewelry.  After a few minutes of waiting, army men holding huge automatic rifles gestured with the tips of their guns to usher in the sequined-and-satin fancy ladies through the gate and up the drive, into the house.

portrait of the queen in parlor

 The Governor- General was waiting for us in the second parlor-type room,  and he shook every one's hand as we filed past him. He's 90 years old, pretty robust, with tons of bright white hair and watery eyes.  Everyone thanked him and called him "your Excellency"; I didn't hear him speak.  We were led outside, and once on the lawn, I got a twelve ounce plastic cupful of the finest Carlo Rossi from the bar (I'm pretty sure I was the only person not drinking fruit punch, as they twisted the cap off of the jug of wine for me);  it smelled like cancer dust but I drank all of it anyway, because I was nervous, but also because it was free booze.

There were probably fewer than a hundred people there, and after we all had drinks in our hands, we sat in folding chairs to watch Mr. Lazar's speech and the presentation of awards to the coaches and teachers. Like all award ceremonies, this took for-ev-ver. Finally it was time to eat weird fried things (I think saltfish fritters?) and chicken wings out of silver chafing stands, and as I was on the last bite of the almondy cake with the seafoam green frosting, loud and awesome drums started and the "Masqueraders" came out and stomped around in a dance. The masqueraders were all pretty young kids, dressed in costumes made of strips of fabric sewn to dangle down, with huge headpieces of peacock feathers.  I was in the front row, really into it the whole time because I love that stuff, and one of them grabbed me and made me dance with him - and you know me, I just can't stand being the center of attention. Heh.

night photography is hard.

So far St. Kitts has seemed like a place where many, many things are so much more difficult than they should be - but there are also a few opportunities to do things that wouldn't have been possible at home... this week, I met the President and partied at the White House. Sorta.

Eliot comes to visit

Everyone knows that having visitors makes you do all the touristy things in the place that you live that you never have time to do because you live there. I didn't go to the top of the Empire State Building until about three years ago (with a friend who was new to the city), and I'm pretty sure I've never seen the Statue of Liberty from a distance closer than the BQE. (Although, over the past few years, my list of attractions for friends coming to New York included more about the best places for doughnuts and where to find bars that have both good beer and video games than any sort of cultural or historical landmarks...so I'll probably never get to touch Lady Liberty, even if friends are in town.)  The comparison of New York to St. Kitts doesn't go too far, though, because there isn't much to do here besides go to the beach and pay hugely inflated sums for mediocre food.  Leah usually doesn't have time to go to the beach, and we're both too cheap and yes - too snobby, I guess - to not make all of our own meals, but our friend Eliot came to visit this past week, so we acted a little like we were on vacation, too.

There was a ton of beach-going, mostly just for me and Eliot, because Leah was at school.  We started off the beach trips with a ferry ride to Nevis, and unfortunately, we got stuck with the dumpy, smelly ferry that made me think I was on some sort of hidden camera commercial for Dramamine:

this is a flattering picture of the Mark Twain himself. In person he is  even shabbier.

view out the window - oof, so nauseating

Once we arrived at the beach on Nevis, though, everything was instantly better. I righted my sick stomach with a "killer bee", the signature drink from the much talked-about bar on the beach, an amazingly alcoholic passion-fruity rum punch with a dash of bitters and grated nutmeg. I had to wait before going swimming because I was crunked. Eliot is better than me at drinking (he's English, after all), and he set off to use his newly purchased snorkel and fins:

While I waited to sober up I tried to take arty pictures of the beach:

this was when He carried me

The ferry back was open-air, much more pleasant. We left just in time to see the sunset on the water, and I got to appreciate it with the new friend I made on board, a middle-aged man from Texas with a timeshare at the Marriott who told me all about his three grown sons.  So I was still a little drunk, maybe.

There was a big soccer game on Friday, a World Cup qualifier between St. Kitts and Canada. I've never been to a real soccer game - match? I don't know. Anyway, it was pretty neat! I love a sporting event; everyone is so excited - wearing the colors and standing to shout things! The concession stand was also noteworthy - what seemed like a family brought their deep fryer, portable electric range with skillet, and toaster oven and were frying chicken wings and kingfish fillets and johnny cakes (which are like hush puppies), and for really cheap, too. There was a guy selling boiled peanuts up and down the stands, too, but by the time I saw him, Leah and Eliot knew I had visited the concession family twice already, and I do have some amount of shame. 

this is blurry, but i'm putting it in here anyway because HOLY SHIT. 

And for his final day here, we took Eliot all the way around the island and stopped at a fancy restaurant on what was an old sugar plantation. The food was actually really good, and the grounds are so beautiful, with gorgeous views out onto the Atlantic.  There's a short trail through the rainforest on the property, too.

whoa. 

cheeseburger in paradise.

eliot took this picture - see the reflection of the pool under the arch there?

there were anoles everywhere - Leah was thrilled and kept repeating, "you guys- you guys - there are lizards everywhere! oh my god there are lizards everywhere." seriously, like she was on a loop.

many of these trees are mango trees, so there were thousands of mango pits scattered on the ground.

Thanks, Eliot, for visiting - and for letting us feel like we were on vacation with you!

mozzarella and strange powers

Laura and I once mentioned to my parents that there didn't seem to be any cheese in the grocery stores here that wasn't multi-ingrediented and/or pre-shredded. Their reaction - bless them - was to mail us milk powder, citric acid, and rennet.

The dried milk had to soak for 24 hours, so we started that yesterday before the beach. This morning we added heavy cream and citric acid, heated it to ninety degrees, and made like a calf's abomasum.

 Creamy!

Supernatant-y!

Silky!

 Curdy!

Stretchy!

At one point during this process, Laura looked over and saw a rotten banana by the toaster. What follows is proof that she is the one.

Mind control

This morning after breakfast, I noticed the brown banana on top of the refrigerator (where we keep our fruit and other semi-perishables) and thought: "I'm going to move this rotten banana over in front of the toaster. Laura will think that I meant to eat it, but decided against it at the last minute because it's so brown. And what do you do with a brown banana when you need the counter space it's on? Move it back where it came from? Throw it in the garbage? No! You bake banana bread at the earliest opportunity! I am so sneaky." 

Readers, she saw right through me. I considered denying it, but there was really no point. 

Everybody wins

roasted whole red snapper

The past week has been a bit of an anxiety-racked mess.  The first semester students had their second round of exams, which meant Leah was studying more than usual, even, and with a panicked intensity that gave us both shortness of breath and some heart palpitations.  After her day was finished on Friday, we split a bottle of the wine we always buy at home - I've been very homesick this week, so this was nice- and watched stand up comedy clips until we passed out, Leah grateful for a break (and me just because I'm the best sleeper ever).   This professional school thing is pretty, like, hard, I guess.  I thought I would cook something celebratory for her, so I made this whole fish (red snapper with ginger, garlic, cilantro, hot peppers, green onions and lime) in our toaster oven.  Cooking animals whole means it's special, right? :

isn't it creepy? 

I've been using that  ginger/garlic/scotch bonnet combination to season most everything I've been making the past few days.

In the early evening, we met up with some friends at "The Strip" (a row of bars along Timothy Beach)  for a bonfire party, and we got there just as the sun was starting to set.

glory!

I'm not sure if it's because we're so close to the equator here or what, but dusk lasts all of like, five minutes. The sun goes down, amazingly gorgeous - and then, pretty suddenly, it's night-time dark. This picture was taken about five minutes after the first one: 

And some pictorial highlights of my week:

Hello, chick, chick, chicken!

scary wasps' nest under the trim of the house. There are eight (!!!) more of these things around.  

Caroline and I were wearing matching outfits! We were both way too excited about it.