A couple weeks ago, we were facilitating a train-the-trainer meeting on the pilot program we ran in a secondary school focused on preventing sexual exploitation. Skits were used in the pilot and we were pleased to hear a skit written locally for the program. That was when I first noticed hearing people being referred to as ‘gassa’. Turns out ‘gassa’ is from the Kwéyòl word ‘gason’ which comes from the French word ‘Garçon’ which means ‘boy’ in English.
Creating Art for Pilot Program
Train-the-Trainer
Pensioner’s Corner on Jeremie Street
Jeremie Street
Today I noticed men calling each other ‘gassa’ during conversation and that’s when it hit me – being called ‘boy’ isn’t necessarily derogatory in St. Lucia. This of course got me thinking about being called ‘white boy’ on Jeremie Street in Castries.
Earlier in my three-month St. Lucian life, I came across this video and didn’t understand much of it – now I get it. But jeesh, I will never get used to the extended hissing kiss sound. Men should never do that to women – like never.
I’ll end this post now with a song that is currently popular here about ‘wining’ and ‘ducking’.
I have six working days left in my practicum with the OECS and had what I call a, “low mental health day”. Not a day of depression or anxiety, just a day of blah, low productivity, unsociable, quiet, slightly clumsy, contemplative…crap. Like I said, not depressed – I’ve been depressed and it’s not that. I’m glad these days come along with increasing rarity.
Reduit Beach, St. Lucia
When I got home, I ate and then went for a long quiet contemplative swim and then sat on the sand of what has become my favourite beach. I watched the sun go down and then I watched the horizon as slightly blurred outlines of people went about doing their own activities (blurred because I didn’t take my glasses to the beach).
On the way home and right now, I am listening to a mixture of old-school punk music on my smartphone. Lot’s of Iggy Pop, Iggy and the Stooges, New York Dolls, The Clash, Me First and the Gimme Gimmes, Fugazi, Dead Milkmen, Dead Kennedys…That kind of music – a little angry and a little raucous, sometimes humourous and sometimes political.
I just spent two years working on a Master of Social Work and am having a heck of a time finding a job. I feel like it would be easier finding work in St. Lucia or the Caribbean side of South America than it is finding work in Canada. I would like to stay here but will not put my family through another extended absence. I miss them and they miss me. So regardless of where I find work, it has to be a family decision. And it’s a serious family decision because my partner has worked hard to build her photography business (Visual Hues Photography) and living elsewhere for an extended period of time is a big decision – it’s tricky. Oh and we love our neighbourhood – even wrote about it on July 1st.
There are exciting opportunities in Calgary and I have applied for very appealing positions in Edmonton and in Victoria – we’ve talked before about moving to Victoria and I’m pretty sure we can make Edmonton work. And there is one opportunity that I would love in Canmore – great place to live too I am certain.
It is not easy finding work in a country where you are not currently living and after running my own consulting business in a different industry for fifteen years – it’s been a long time since I even wanted to be an an employee of an entity that I did not create.
And I do want a job, I want a career where I am in a leadership role of a social services nonprofit, government or educational institution. I want to combine an executive level position with one that interacts with the public, with clients, with staff and with volunteers. I want to contribute research to a body of knowledge and I want to use evidence to create, critique and utilize policy for a more socially just society.
I did this video for school about seven months ago and it still holds – I am determined (the photo in the background was taken by Janet in Nepal).
And then there is my long work and volunteer history. Check it out and send me any referrals and tips okay? Seriously, I’d appreciate it.
Now it is very dark and I can hear the sound of the Caribbean’s creatures – I love it. And the sound of far away music combined with the muffled sounds of dogs barking – it’s not such a party night tonight.
Since I’m leaving soon, I had better start looking for a Camaro to drive back to Canada (it’s a segue).
After hiring John and his taxi, we drove to Hewanorra to meet Janet and kids at the airport. John was a friendly man that Amanda (the housemate) and I had come to know from walking through Rodney Bay on our way home most days from the bus.
John insisted on leaving early and there was no good reason for me to disagree so we traveled leisurely on the airport while listening to Christian reggae. He asked if I liked music and I replied, “Who doesn’t like music?” and then we fist-bumped.
Somewhere during the last two months, he had figured out that I didn’t drink alcohol and may have been surprised that I liked music. It’s likely for the best that he didn’t ask for my thoughts on Christian music – his musical choices were fine by the way (just not what I would have chosen).
When John and I approached a vehicle stopped on the narrow highway, we stopped and John asked if they were okay. Help was on the way but a couple needed a ride to the airport and would be late. The couple got in the vehicle the pace of our drive went much more quickly.
We had over an hour to kill before my family’s plane would arrive, so John took me to Thunder Beach and then we had lunch along the road near the airport – I’m guessing it’s a common stop where taxi drivers and locals meet for food and drink.
We saw the plane as it stopped at the airport and time started crawling. I knew they were there and I just wanted that big amazing hug (after two-months absence).
The next day, everyone woke up early. The kids were in the pool (the pool is shared with other tenants of our 3-month home) within minutes and then we went to the beach and back to the pool. They visited for two weeks and I managed to get five days off work (plus weekends) so we fit a lot into the visit: walk to marina; bus to Gros Islet and walk to and up Pigeon Point; lots of ice-cream and lots of beach; zip-lining in Babonneau; Gros Piton climb; Sufriere; sulfur springs volcano; botanical gardens; impromptu carving lessons; and more.
We also went to junior carnival, had friends over for dinner and the kids met their own friends. Friends at the hotel, friends at the apartment, friends on the beach and friends at Holy Family Children’s Home.
A photo posted by Kids Photography Academy (@kidsphotographyacademy) on
And then they left.
John drove us back to the airport on July 16. I sat between the kids for the long ride and I knew I would again miss the family. We held back tears at the airport. Knowing we’d see each other again in two-and-a-half weeks, the tears did not flow as heavily as when I left Calgary two-and-a-half months ago. We hugged, said our good-byes and I watched them enter into security.
A few days ago I wrote about my ambivalence for national pride. Mostly, that post was about the flag as a symbol representing systemic racism.
Today, I will share some of the things I love about Canada.
Rainbow Canada
Bike Parade
Front Yard by Janet
Photo by Janet Pliszka
My nieghbourhood in Calgary, Canada is truly wonderful. It is family oriented and we do know and care for one another. And every July 1, the street is closed for a morning to late-evening block party. I am missing it this year because I am currently 2-months into a 3-month attachment with OECS in beautiful St. Lucia.
Our community (and specifically our street) has been featured nationally in Canada. One of our neighbours were interviewed by the Globe and Mail in 2011 – and although our street is mostly white, heteronormative and middle-to-upper-middle class – I am pleased that Chantel Elliot was able to speak to the diversity that does exist all-the-while discussing its lovely community spirit.
Another neighbour, author Will Ferguson, wrote about our street for CBC and participated in the ‘hyperlocal’ project for the National Film Board. In that CBC article, Will wrote about our nieghbourhood:
“When I sit on my porch and look down my street, I see veranda after veranda lined up. Close together but not too close. Kids coming and going. Neighbors chatting to neighbors.
We also often do things with our neighbours: events in Calgary; theatre; camping; hiking in the Rocky Mountains; etc.
Although inequality is growing in Canada, it is still more equal than many of the globe’s wealthy countries and that means Canadians have a better chance of living the ‘American Dream’ than those living in the United States (it says so in the New York Times and in the Globe and Mail).
The Prairies where I lived the first half of my life (gov.mb.ca)
Official languages of English and French – wish I could speak them both and that indigenous languages were also ‘official’ (officiallanguages.gc.ca)
Multiculturalism – it’s not perfect but I do love diversity (cic.gc.ca)
Canadian Broadcasting Corporation – especially radio and online news (CBC.ca)
So yes, Canada is a cool country and I am happy to be Canadian. I also recognize that I have privilege as a white male Canadian. And while the situation is improving, too few Canadians are aware of the racism that created (and continues in) Canada. We have a lot of progress to make and the sooner the better.
During my first month in St. Lucia, I read, “The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao” by Junot Díaz about a boy-turned-young-man and his family living in both the Dominican Republic and New York, USA.
The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao
One word that often comes to mind is ‘parigüayo’. Díaz states that the term came to use during the first US occupation of the Dominican Republic to describe US military personnel who would attend parties and just watch – they didn’t dance, they stood their and watched. The paragüayo is the “the kid who don’t dance, who ain’t got game, who lets people clown him” (Diaz, 2007, p. 21).
Urban Dictionary is much less kind towards the parigüayo where synonyms include chump, punk, loser, bull-shitter, and bad with the ladies.
The word, parigüayo, comes to mind when I am at a party or when I’m with a group of people in St. Lucia (and sometimes back home in Canada). I am often comfortable just watching and soaking in the sites, the sounds, the moves, the smells. I enjoy talking with people and immersing myself in cultures but I often also like to survey the situation before making my move. And sometimes the music is just too loud to talk and listen.
That’s as far as it goes though, I’m not going to accept the ‘loser’ parts of the definition. I am ‘good with the ladies’ in a platonic sense (I am married you know) and had pretty ‘good game’ when I was younger. I do like to think that I was always respectful though and consent was always important.
On Friday, we went to a cricket match, Saturday I spent a lot of time with my housemate and on Facetime with Janet and the kids back home. Today when the opportunity arose to meet some new people, I chose to stay back – I needed some alone time. I went to the beach, swam, sunned, read news, went to the grocery store and am now writing this blog post.
I am also what I consider to be an outgoing-introvert. I enjoy people and also need consistent alone time. Vincent and Ross (2001) stated that,
“Introverts focus on the inner world of ideas and impressions. Introverts find energy in the inner world of ideas, concepts, and abstractions. They can be sociable but need quiet to recharge their energies.”
I may have identified more with “18 Struggles Only Socially Outgoing Introverts Understand” and I was not outgoing at all when I was depressed. Now that I am healthy and confident, the outgoing part is back and I enjoy being with people – just not all the time.
According to Danielle Durand, “The quality of being outgoing has less to do with an individual’s energy orientation than their self-esteem and confidence. Whether extravert or introvert, as long as an individual feels comfortable and confident in themselves, they will have no trouble being outgoing.”
In preparation for this article, I took a Psychology Today test and was told I am a “The Chameleon”:
Chameleons can adapt to almost any social situation, whether they’re among a throng of partygoers or in reflective solitude. Known to be fairly friendly and gregarious people, Chameleons aren’t hard to like or connect with; they’re good conversationalists, good listeners, and great company. Although they’re more than happy to join a boisterous get-together, they do enjoy some quiet time on their own as well. They’re approachable and relatively unreserved individuals whose presence is neither obtrusive nor inconspicuous.
The test showed that I was close to the middle on scales of disclosure, cognitive orientation, and self-disclosure. On ‘need for space’, I scored an 80 which isn’t surprising in the least – I need alone time, I need space.
While I can relate to the above terms and definitions, I don’t hold a lot too much stock in the above because I didn’t dig too much in the science. Still, I know who I am in ways that took 40-plus years to figure out.
All that said, while I am atheist and evidence-based, I still enjoy a horoscope now-and-then (just for fun). I have felt much affinity for what is often said about Sagittarius.
Actually, after reading, a couple descriptions, I no longer identify as much as I did decades ago. I do relate to the following (even with unscientific conclusions) though:
