It is not just me, but I can admit it. I can see it on the faces of the friends and family who visit as they try to figure out some of the relationships developed here, showing on their faces that they never would have seen this match up or that friendship. Wondering what a nice girl like that is doing in a place like this. I am and have always been a tough nut to crack, so I am not implying that I am or have been insincere here, but at 41, my resume is now long, much longer than the recommended one page and I have not provided many of the smaller details or fine print. For many, I have been written more in broad strokes or dramatic flourishes. With the arrival of my girlfriend and her family, the little things, the moments that have shaped me come flooding back to me and I am comforted by the knowledge that someone close to me knows me.
When we first moved here I invited everyone, EVERYONE, I knew to come and visit, in the hopes that keeping my people close would keep me in touch with me. I was identifying entirely with where I was from, something New Yorkers definitely do, and trying to live in Barbados like I was on an extended vacation. And then people didn't come. Sure, some did, but many said they would try and I believe they tried, but they couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't be able to make the trip and I found myself further and further isolated from all that I'd had to define myself. I have made friends and lost friends during this leg of the journey, come closer to many who came to my aid whether physically visiting Barbados or writing, chatting, Skyping and lost some too scared, tired, or bored with my struggle to define and defend myself in my new existence. This has been a unique opportunity for me and my family, but when I consider my own spiritual journey, it has been a true awakening.
Discovering who I am when not defined by the place or the people around me, not by the work or the clothes or the neighborhood in which I live, has been eye opening. I have reached out and reached out in despair really, especially in the beginning. Called my parents more than ever, Skyped with them under the pretense of letting them see the girls as they were rarely interested in me without the girlies, set up a Skype number with a NYC cellphone exchange to make it easier for people to call me without charges, emailed and Facebooked like a maniac, sharing pictures and anecdotes and impressions. I was not just feeling lonely. I was alone. A-lone. Alone with one's self as the only company can be a tough place to be. I know it was for me. Craving a break from the constant demands of the girls and taking care of the home, I'd begged for some time by myself and then I was overwhelmed by the silence of being alone. Of the sudden awareness that even with all my friends, even with family, contacts, schedules, and events, I, all of us really, just have ourselves. Nearly two years here in Barbados have shown me a lot about how I have presented myself, how my history has shaped me, how I have navigated the world and how I hope to once I leave here.
It really is a shame that more people did not come to stay with us as the house, the garden, the beaches, the surfing, the landscape, and being able to experience them with a "local" perspective rather than as a tourist tied to hotel or travel agency suggestions, rental cars, and meal tickets, offer an opportunity not to be missed in any country. Those who did make the trip, save one, have grown closer to us while having an amazing experience in a country they may never have considered exploring. As for me, I will try next time, if there ever is a next time, when living abroad, not to be a stranger in a strange land, a visitor, but to free myself of my definitions and live, live, live wherever I am. I have done much to improve my lot here in Barbados, but the original feeling I had when I arrived is still there.
My friends have another week left and we hope to fill it with a swim with the turtles, small trips around the island, a visit to Lily's school, a possible surfing lesson, maybe some golf (well, for one of us who is most definitely not me). We have gone to different beaches. They've tried rotis, gone hunting for sea glass, sat out talking with the locals on the street, checking out the supermarket, had home visits by our doctor and the amazing coconut guys, and come home to the safety and comfort of our home where we have shared meals, watched the kids play, and sat on the patio talking and laughing into the night. They have helped me with the girls while Didier was working and done vocabulary words and read stories with Lily, making her so proud to share her new-found skills with new people. With my visitors, Barbados is so lovely. The time spent with all of our guests over these two years will create those moments that we will look back on fondly when Barbados is no longer our home. There is still time.
(c) Copyright 2011. City Mom in the Jungle.
