There is a Fashion God - Building a Tepee Part Tres

There is a fashion god. And I was not being punished to live in the same swimsuit and sarong forever.  With my earning’s from this weekend’s farmers market, I bought a new hot pink skirt and white peasant midriff top. They aren’t practical like last week’s purchases. They aren’t even sensible to work in the garden or campsite, but I just had to have something pretty.

I also selected several sarongs that are various shades of pink with hibiscus flowers on them. I added these to my few possessions to line the inside of my tent.  I spent the day sewing the sarongs on the inside of my tent. I had to be careful not to puncture the tarp with the needle. Otherwise, rain and unwelcome insects would be able to enter my new castle. I had to make sure that I sewed on the where the tarp had a seam.

This project brought out the showgirl in me. I found some shells on the beach that actually had holes already in them. They were nature’s beads. I sewed them together on the bottom of a piece of fabric from the sarong and made handles for the door (one on each side).

I was so into making my tepee beautiful, that I sewed all the way into darkness using a lantern. It reminded me of all the bellydance costumes I have sewn. I couldn’t help but think of bellydancing all those late nights at the Moroccan restaurant I worked at in the Village in NYC. The musicians and other bellydancers and I use to have so much fun every night.  We would dance on top of the tables and shake the audience up into a tizzy. I thought of the drum solos with just me and Hassam and I. We were so in synch that we would become one and give the best performances. We loved when the sheiks would come in and they would literally shower us with hundreds of dollars.

I laughed to myself about the time my finger cymbal unexpectantly came off, flew like a flying saucer and shattered a champagne glass to be received by cheers of applause. I thought about all the people that would deny my offer to dance with them, wandering why would you say no, just live life like its your last night! I would dance at so many private parties of the richest people in Manhattan. I would imagine myself to be an ancient dancer when I danced in their penthouse palaces. Memories kept me sewing into the night.

When I finished, I wanted to show someone my creation. My tepee was beautiful!

 

 

Plants for Everything!

Isaiah took me up into the hills of Brewer’s Bay to show me all the different plants. Some had surprising benefits, like good for washing pots and pans because it made suds. Others were poisonous and to be seriously avoided, like the manzanillo tree. It has apple like fruit and you could be poisoned just by standing underneath the tree during the rain.

Building a Tepee Part Deux

I went shopping in town today.  

After spending the morning going to three stores, I deliberated on what fabric I would purchase to create the foundation for my home. There were several options, but this was an important decision. Not only was it my first purchased possession, but also its purpose was the most basic of all human needs: shelter.

I never thought I would hear my glamorous NYC ears hear that I was about to spend every cent I had on something hideous and boring. It was all practical and not at all about aesthetics. My plan is to beautify it later. It is more important to keep out insects and undesirables than for my tepee to be attractive. Initially.

I bought a blue tarp, rope and needle and thread. It’s even a little boring to write about it right now.

Having said this cannot deny that amazing accomplishment that I created my house in one afternoon! After I returned from shopping,  I sewed the rope to the middle of the tarp and attached it to the tree. I gathered some rocks and pulled out the tarp so that it was tepee shaped. I doubled over a piece of the fabric for an opening. I laid down my sarong as my floor/carpet and slept like a dream.

Calling NYC

I called Eddie today. I came into town to go shopping for my tepee, but was consumed with thoughts of him. It has been three weeks since he left and I had my boating accident and my entire life has changed, but I didn’t tell him anything about that. It was a very dreamy and loving conversation. He was very happy to hear from me. He said he was hoping that I would have called earlier, since it is up to me to call him. I said that I wanted to call him, but I had to call him from Road Town (which was where I was calling him from).

He told me about his project and how well it was going. I told him I was so happy for him and genuinely felt that way. He said he missed me and was sorry that we parted unpleasantly. I took full responsibility for our fight and I apologized, which felt good. It was healing.

He asked about Island life and I shared with him that paradise never changes too much. He asked me if I had been to the Full Moon party or had met anyone else. This thought had never occurred to me to even go to the party or dating anyone here. I told him that my heart belonged to him.  

The conversation turned to sweet nothings as we dedicated to doing our separate passions, but being together. Warmth overcame me and radiated out of my heart. I promised to call more often and think of him everyday at sunset.  

 

 

Working

Working this job surprised me. I was doing what every one does to maintain their homes. I was just like anyone else, yet it seemed different because of the way it made me feel.

This job made me realize the value of possessions. It was worth it to me work at a farmers market for a weekend to be able to buy fabric for my home.

I was a bit nervous while I was setting up the booth (table of fruits and vegetables). I was going to be around many of people and have a lot of interactions.  My other employment in NYC was bellydancing. When I bellydance, everyone asks me afterwards the same few questions.  Most of the time they ask,  “Where did you learn to bellydance?” This gave me pause that I would be asked personal questions and I was unprepared to talk about my current life. It was too new.

There were many booths and the market had a carnival type of atmosphere. There was a band playing music and people danced. All the people tending the booths had nicknames. No one was just Joe. There was Piano Joe, JT Joe, Mountain Matt, and Barbeque John. Many booths sold tourist items, as this farmer’s market had the appeal to locals and tourists.

What happened amazed me. Mostly what happened to me. No one asked about my personal life. They simply asked about the fruits and veggies. Some wanted to know how to eat the sugar cane, others wanted to know what a breadfruit tasted like. It was an island novelty for some and for others, their weekly produce.

 I was thoroughly in the moment all weekend. During the conversations, I was not thinking of the future or the past. I wasn’t asked to think about where I live, what I do for a living or where I came from.  I was completely present and I never felt so alive!  

Building a Tepee

Today Isaiah said I should build a home. Yes, I had one that I had been staying in, but it was the shed for all his tools and it was time he put them back in. It was exciting to see all the possible styles of shelter I could build as he sketched them in the dirt with a stick.

How thrilling to build it from scratch, instead of using a store bought tent!

He said that it was more tropical up where we were living. This means there are more insects and rain and a need for a roof and walls that would keep out mosquitoes, leeches and other undesirables. I also would want a roof that had a slant, so that it didn’t gather rain or moisture.

Most shelters included a frame and a different method of weaving leaves in this frame. There must have been 10 styles. I chose the bamboo frame (if we could find any) because it would collect drinking water, too. Since we were not sure if we could find any bamboo, my first shelter I chose would be a teepee.

Nearly all tepees have angled support pieces of wood that are tied together up top and create a cone shape. Then they are covered with fabric, leaves, hides or bark. There is another way to make a tepee and I found this one to be easy. You find a tree, suspend fabric from a branch, give the sides a steep angle and secure the bottoms to the ground. Voila!

The catch in this option was that I didn’t have the fabric. My sarong wasn’t big enough and it wasn’t waterproof. That’s all I had in the way of material. Isaiah said that I could work for him selling his vegetables and fruits in town at a farmer’s market.  With my earnings, I could buy the foundation of my abode.  It would be strange to be in the “city”, but of course I would do it! I was getting back to the basics.

 

Missing Eddie

I was missing Eddie today.  The morning began with feeling just a little blue. As the day progressed, I was full out pining for his company. At least that is what I chose to focus my melancholy outlook onto.

It was all over the place. I felt like calling him and telling him that I was missing him at one point during the day. At another time, I felt insecure that he left me and chose his work “over me”.  I even had weird food cravings of pot stickers that we used to order at a Chinese restaurant on 7^th Ave in NYC.

I replayed my favorite memories of us down here in the Caribbean. The super romantic moments, in which we stood under the blanket of starlight sky and he declared we were soul mates. I laughed about the time he was imitating me mixing my metaphors. I longed for his touch and kiss.  I wanted him to be impressed with me and with how I have been surviving since he left.

Then I wanted him to be missing me and it really hurt. I felt so sad and lonely. I cried as I tended the sugar peas in the farm. At a certain point I thought that I was not going to be able to go on without him.

Then I recognized the unmistakable feelings. You can escape to an island, but you cannot escape PMS. 

My First Possession

I arose this morning to find this journal at my feet! My first new possession!  I thought it was from Isaiah, but my first belonging is a gift from Mervin. He wasn’t around when I found it. I am sure it is because my boat has not been found and he asked me what I missed most. I told him my log with all my memories and experiences.

Naturally, I cannot replace the previous days entries, but how exciting to start anew! It started feeling like my birthday when Isaiah said it was Jah’s day (Sunday) and I could have to the day to rest!

I am grateful for my “job”, but I am tired!  I welcomed the day off and decided to spend it at the beach writing in my new diary.

I decided to not plan what I would write or style or date or any plans whatsoever. Without thought, I started to write about my dolphin experience. I wrote with the beginning of the day, of how it all happened with all the details and daily facts. I think I wanted to make sense of it. I cannot believe it all happened. 

I feel different. Its hard to explain. Being that scared, feeling like I was so close to death makes this world look and feel different. I don’t feel afraid like I used to (I am not fearless, yet). I also feel newness. I feel like I am looking at things for the first time.

I love my new journal! I am going to continue to write.

 

 

Starting from Scratch

The past few days have been hard, yet good honest work.  I never imagined my life to be like this or to enjoy it as much as I have.

After I first met Isaiah, I told Styles (that runs the campsite grounds) that I had no money and had been staying in their camp illegally. This was not easy for me. I prefer to be reticent and cagey. Also, Styles has never been very friendly towards me for some reason. He didn’t make this task any easier. He asked where I was staying now, which did not go over well. The conversation ended quickly with I had a week to come up with the money.  He was like a loan shark.

Mervin returned and I told him the entire story, too. Though his response was positive, this was not easy for me to tell, either. I am not sure why, except that it was so traumatic for me. He thought it was pretty cool about the dolphins and recalls the other dolphin-rescue story in Brewer’s Bay. He said that he would go around the bay (over the next week) to look for my boat. He did not say one way or another about Isaiah.

Isaiah put me to work right away. It was probably the size of a large garden, but by the amount of work I did, it felt like a farm. He had me pull all the weeds, which was no easy task. I also had to gather rocks that created rows of sugar cane on his hill. I liked being amongst plants and life that nourishes us. I also have a sweet tooth!

What I liked most was starting over from scratch!  After the peril of my boating accident was left behind me and I had way to sustain myself, I found profound joy in having no belongings! I know I wanted to live off the land, but I never planned to have no possessions at all. It wasn’t what I planned, but what freedom! The possibilities appeared endless. What will I acquire first? What is the most important item I want? The last time I was starting from scratch was when I was an infant and now I am doing it with the choice of an adult. It was profound and thought provoking.

I thought intensely on the subject while I worked. The work felt good. I liked getting my hands dirty, covered in earth. How long had it been since my hands were in the mud like this? It was a big week for me! It was like being reborn after my near death experience.

All I Own is a Sarong and Bathing Suit

I am so stubborn. I would rather be a bit hungry than ask for help.  When I am around other people at the campsite, I pretend everything is ok. I don’t let on that I do not have but this one swimsuit and sarong.  It is not uncommon for people at this campsite to wear the same bathing suit for days on end and I can tie my sarong in several different ways. I never offer my story and can tend to be guarded.

While deep in within the valley of the bay gathering coconuts today, I met another member of the Rymer family. He is ostracized from the family due to being the “pot grower” and serving time in jail. “I was a subject of the Queen”, he said. He is a Rastafarian and grows “ganja” for his spiritual sacrament. He also lives off the land and showed me his home down the gulch deep within the bay. I was immediately taken with his lifestyle.

All of his relatives know he lives on their land, but they leave him alone. Unlike me, he shared his story instantly. He was born with the name Peter, but rejected his “slave” name and is now called Isaiah. His Caribbean patwah (accent) was thick and he pronounced words in the Rasta way. Instead of me, he said I. He showed me his campsite and his farm, where he grew sugar cane, bananas and marijuana.

To me, he was living the life I wanted to live. It was simple and beautiful. He spoke philosophically and about his beliefs. Then he asked me about me and I spilled the whole thing to him, I somehow just had to be honest and open with him. It was a relief.

After I confessed everything, he talked for a long time. It was a cool cocktail of advice and Rastafarian teachings. He said that I shouldn’t stay in a campsite, unless I tell the owners my situation and am honest. He offered me the opportunity to work on his farm and he would in exchange provide me with food and shelter. He told me that we need to help each other because we are I and I. He said, “ I and I is an expression to totalize the concept of oneness, the oneness of two persons”. It wasn’t in my language, but he seemed to say that his spirituality means that he wants to help me for the simple reason that we are actually one.

He also said that the dolphins rescuing me were irie, which meant good vibes. This has happened before to a man whom a shark was attacking while he was spear fishing just outside of Brewer’s Bay. Dolphins are from Jah (God).

It was the first time I had really thought about the dolphins, being too preoccupied with how to survive. I didn’t know what to think, except I know I almost died and without them, I would have perished.

How could I resist his offer? What other plans did I have? Besides, he felt like a teacher, a master and I enjoyed his company. I made my new home with Isaiah

We ate the most delicious meal with food he grew and picked that night. It made me feel high, but not in a marijuana way. I felt the nourishment of the food. Since it grew to ripeness, it was filled with the most energy. I felt very aware and good. I believed at this point, everything was going to be okay.

 

The Day After I was Rescued by Dolphins

I awoke traumatized. I didn’t really know what to do, so I thought something familiar would soothe my nerves. I went to the beach. I put my feet in the water and found that I was a little afraid of the water. I went all the way in, but came right out. I sat on my sarong and thought about what I was going to do. I didn’t want to call Eddie. I didn’t want to tell him that I got myself into such a mess, that I almost died, that all our possessions were gone and I didn’t want to ask him for money. I don’t like asking for help. I am very proud.

It was still early, but I went into the shade under the palm trees. No that knew me would think twice if they saw me here. They would think that one of the other family members had checked me back in. I was safe for a little bit. I took a long nap.

When I was stirring from my nap, I wondered about my boat and what should happen if someone found it. Who knows what condition it would be in, what contents would still be in it, would I be in trouble for being negligent? I decided that the only person I could trust to tell the story to was Mervin. He knew everyone by being raised on the island and he also worked in conservation.  Maybe I could ask him for a bit of cash, so I could survive.

Luck was not on my side (or so I thought) since Mervin was away in Virgin Gorda for a few days, working. I survived by eating coconuts, mangoes and accepted every camper’s BBQ invitation.

What the hell should I do? 

Should I leave the Caribbean and head back to NYC? It sure seems like all the signs are pointing in that direction. Eddie leaves, I get an offer to work if I return and now I’ve lost everything I own.

Should I become a cocktail waitress in Road Town? It’s a lovely town and I could just work and live the simple life here. I could even save up and then return to NYC.

Should I get my savings account in NYC and live at Brewer’s Bay for the rest of the year? The money would just get me by for the year. I could just make it financially. But this option means I have to tell Eddie or one of my close friends how badly I screwed up.

{I don’t think a thought of the dolphins entered my mind once today.}

 

The Day I Was Rescued by Dolphins

The day began relatively ordinary for what became the most extraordinary day of my life. I woke up by myself in a cute hotel in Road Town, which is the main city of Tortola. Eddie left two days ago and in my attempt to not torture myself with memories of him, I hitched a ride yesterday to the populated side of the island for some distraction. I carried all my belongings, checked into a classic Caribbean hotel with a friendly staff and began drinking. Rumor has it that I was doing the limbo and reading everyone’s palms who entered the bar. Good times.

I awoke with a painful hangover and left the hotel to bite the hair of the dog that bit me, so the saying goes. After I had kicked back a few over brunch, I meandered around town. I purchased a few sarongs, bathing suits and some sunscreen. Then I passed by a boat shop. I went inside and found my dream boat that soon became a pipe dream with the price tag of $15,000. I left the store, but my head started to spin (and not from the cocktails I had earlier!)

I inquired with my hotel of where to find a boat within my budget. I figured, I would need money for gas, etc and should spend half of what I had left ($4934) on a boat - $2500. The hotel manager laughed a hearty laugh and repeated my number aloud while he chuckled and giggled. To clarify (I thought), I said, “ this is not for fishing or diving or anything but getting from one boat to another”. He continued to shake his head with snickers. I left, but I was not discouraged. In fact, I was determined.

I felt like lightening had struck me. I was resolute that the reason Eddie left is so that I could live out my “Walden”.  It would be my ticket to living out goal off living off the land on a remote island. I got out my stash of cash and set out to buy a boat.

Road town is a large town  and there is no hitching here as it is filled with tourists . I must say that it is amazing that Brewer’s Bay, Rogues Bay and the entire other side of the island can be remote with the size of Road Town.  This is simply because of the road that leads to the other side of town is so treacherous. I heard that many places where cruise ships dock are like this. Alaska is wilderness, except for where the cruise ships docks.

Soon after I arrived at the marina, I had several options of boats that were even less than my budget. Yes, most of them were covered in patches and hardly looked landworthy, let alone seaworthy. And the owners – yikes! Something about life on the water wears a person down and soon they are missing teeth and have leathered skin. But, I am a sucker for a colorful character. I cannot resist someone who walks to the beat of a different drummer and has had many unusual life experiences. Guess it’s from all the interesting people I grew up around.

I picked the grand prize fruitcake of them all – Captain Willie. He introduced himself to me by proclaiming that he doesn’t drink alcohol, while a bottle of rum stuck out of his pants. No, never touches a drop. He then went off on a rambling tangent which sentiment was lovely about how everyone should stop judging one another. He took off his rasta cap to reveal long dreadlocks and reassured me that Rastafarians don’t drink. I told him all about my plans with the boat. He was the first person that genuinely seemed to not only understand what I wanted to do, but was sincerely encouraging. What does that say about me?

I felt powerful, smart and courageous. The boat looked good. It looked new. He would even help me launch it. All for $2500! I thought to hell with the hotel manager, Eddie, Styles of Brewer’s Bay and everyone who doubted me. I was going to really do it and they would eat their words. Captain Willie drove me up to my hotel and I literally threw all my possessions in the boat. “Good for you”, he said as he drove me to launch the boat. In veracity, I was bold, stubborn, foolish and lucky.

I felt glorious! Having my hand on the motor, driving my own boat was the greatest feeling. I proudly waved at other boats leaving the marina as if I had done it all my life. Fact is, it was my first time, though I have always felt comfortable in water. My first spoken word as an infant was "water." I learned to swim before I could walk. How quickly my arrogance was about to change.

Just out of the marina, I cranked the motor to full speed. I was flying! Then I got out of Road Bay and the waves became large. My saxophone and tent that were gently placed at the front of the boat were thrown into the middle of the boat. Replaying this over in my head, I now remember thinking at the time that this was not good, but I just forged ahead at the same speed.  With each wave, there was a hard landing and all my things became jostled. Any decent sailor knows to tie down their belongings, but I neglected to do so (big mistake) and my tent went overboard. I jumped in after it (nearly fatal mistake) and became separated from the boat.

I swam as hard as I could, I tried swimming under water, parallel to the boat, but try as I might, I could not get back to my boat. The current had carried my boat out of my site and I had drifted, too. The tent was somewhat buoyant, though not exactly a life raft. I started to scream out every expletive I knew. My circumstance was bad, but I wasn’t convinced it was dire. I decided to try to swim towards shore, though it was extremely far in the distance.

I swam towards shore.  At this point, I was tired. Exhausted more like it. I thought that I was in a pickle and that it was going to be a major hassle, but I was not in danger.

By the time I got near shore, it was too late. The waves were pulling me into the cavernous rocky shore. This is when I got scared, to my core of my being. With each wave, I was closer to the sharp and pointy edge of the shore and I was afraid of being skewered or knocked out. I was trying to protect my head with each wave that pulled me all the way into the caves. One time, I came up for breath too soon and drank a mouth of water. I was coughing up water and it became difficult to tell where the surface of the water was. It was about at this point that I went unconscious.

I think I passed out for a few minutes, though I'm not sure how long I was out.

Things were extremely distorted when I regained consciousness. I was coughing up water and gasping for breath. I did not know what was happening, as all I could think of was trying to get some air. My next moments were panicked. I couldn't tell what was pulling me; I flailed my body around, terrified, only to become more frightened by feeling something slippery beneath me. My mind couldn't comprehend what was happening. I was in shock. I had gone to the edge of desperation about survival and had surrendered to death. 

Then, I once I could breath, I felt like I was body surfing a wave toward shore. There was three dolphins swimming briskly, lifting me to the surface. I was near the shore, but they were swimming parallel to the shore. There was a moment of relief that my ordeal was over. I couldn't recognize the bay I was in. People had gathered at the beach, down the bay, the equivalent of a couple of New York City blocks.

They were trying to see exactly what was happening. When I came within speaking distance, a man said, “Jesus”. Then were all saying things to the effect of “can you believe that?” When the water became shallow and I could stand, the dolphins swam away. I didn’t get a chance to somehow acknowledge what had happened or thank them before they were out of sight.

The fisherman and tourists that were gathered at the shore were asking me questions. I am not sure why I lied to them, but I did.  I think its because I was so scared and been so traumatized that I felt like I had done something wrong.  I told them I was swimming by myself and got pulled by a current. I couldn’t even comprehend that dolphins rescued me, mostly because I was in extreme survival mode. I almost died. I didn’t have anything, except the clothes on my back. I didn’t have even passport. I was so scared that I just wanted to get back where people knew me and I knew people.  I decided I needed to get back to Brewer’s Bay.

I had no idea where I was (now I  know it Brandy Wine Bay), so I told them I just need to get back to Road Town. No problem, a couple of tourists were on their way to Road Town. Then my plan was to hitch to Brewers. It was getting late and I was fighting the sun, because its harder to hitch after sunset. I had no money and no shoes. I was in a terrible situation, but I was acting as if everything was fine. They all wanted to know how it came that dolphins were rescuing me, but I dashed off with the tourists that were on their way to Road Town and had stopped to take a picture of the view.

I was worried that the tourists would ask me all sorts of questions and I wasn’t prepared for chitchat or talking in general. I was in shock and had one focus. I told the couple it was no big deal that I often swim to that bay and dolphins are common in that bay. This explanation worked and I it was a quick trip to Road Town.

As soon as I said goodbye to the tourists that gave me the ride, I fell to my knees and wept. People stopped to ask if I was ok, and I said I had a fight with my boyfriend. I didn’t want to tell anyone what happened. I didn’t expect anyone to really help me and I thought I had to keep my wits about me to figure what to do to get out of my predicament. I started to walk onto the road out bay to Brewers. I walked for hours, as I cried, thinking of what I was going to do. A car finally came by and could take me further than they planned, because they were concerned about me walking alone in my state. Finally, I arrived at Brewers Bay late and everyone was asleep. I snuck into a campsite and slept a sleep that tethered on the touching the other realm.

 

Eddie left today

Eddie left today. I failed with all my girlfriend battle tactics to keep my man at my side. I did what every good girlfriend does when she doesn’t get her way. First I struggled to be supportive of his dreams. Then I tried to be the dream girlfriend, so he wouldn’t want to leave my side. I accidently broke down and cried a puddle of tears a few times. Desperate, I brought us into the court of law and accused him of perjury. Then I did the only thing I could do; create a fantasy that he wasn’t leaving (what others crudely call denial).

I was heartbroken and it hurt. Badly. I cried incessantly. It was the worst abandonment I have ever experienced. I tried to do all the things that made once made me happy, like swimming in the aqua blue water, so clear that you just cant believe your eyes. But it didn’t work. Like the great Velvet Underground song, I thought, “Who loves the sun, who cares that it makes plants grow, who cares what it does it does since you broke my heart”. The sun shining didn’t seem to matter since Eddie left.

I contemplated packing my bags and returning to NYC – maybe I could still do the film I turned down. But this was deeper than just being with Eddie. This was the fact that he left. That he would leave paradise and me! That he had priorities that were so different than mine. I became mad. How dare he?! Then I realized in all fairness, he never wanted to come here for an entire year and live exclusively off the land. I was forcing him into it. How dare I?

I felt dreadful that I had manipulated him so much and because of my behavior, he left with us on rocky terms. I began to miss him. Terribly. Everything, absolutely everything reminded me of Eddie. It was obscene, there were too many memories flooding me. It was ubiquitous where I looked.

Finally, the feeling was insurmountable and I ran into the center of the beach and cried, begging the heavens to help me. I became conscious that I pushed Eddie away. The nature of my pain could not be addressed with any companionship. The pain I speak of is that I don’t trust myself or my feelings or my experiences or my philosophies.

To speak psychobabble for a moment or two: I had projected so much onto Eddie that belonged to my parents. I needed to be a separate entity from them. My childhood was all about their trip and now it was my turn. Yes, I could even believe everything they believed, but I wanted to make that decision myself! What freedom! I slept the night under the stars happily with just myself.