Sunday drivers

In Barbados, every day is like Sunday. What I mean is, every day on the road is a day for Sunday drivers. Lots of really slow-paced cruising, looking out the window daydreaming, even in morning "rush hour" traffic. It drives Didier nearly to the brink of madness and his fits of rage with outbursts in English with a French accent would be hilarious if he wasn't nearly slamming into the back of whatever it is tiptoe-ing in front of us. "What he's doing, this one? Why he is doing this to me? They love to get a red light these snails!" You get the picture. We are, in general, fast-paced folk, New Yorkers before we ever were and we have not succeeded in the "When in Rome" or more accurately, "When in Barbados, do as the Bajans do" mentality.

But this Sunday, we attempted to do just that. The morning was overcast and though we'd planned a morning trip to Accra Beach or maybe Sandy Lane (with friends of course, otherwise we'd not have been able to get in!) the hours got away from us, so we stayed home and swam in the pool treading through downpours, then sunshine, then more downpours, followed by rainbows. Virginie who had been a bit temperamental of late in the water was swimming like a little fish, and I remarked to myself what an incredible gift we'd given ourselves to have the girls learn to swim at such an early age. Lily, once absolutely terrified of going underwater, was now diving and flipping and "circle and rocketing" across the pool. We were relaxed and carefree, as we'd hoped we'd be when we moved here nearly 18 months ago.


Once we'd realized we would not make it to the sea, we made plans to visit with our friends that afternoon for some drinks, time in the pool, and a visit with their brand new menagerie. After the sudden death of their cat by hit and run, an unfortunately common occurrence on the island, they'd bought their daughters a hamster and a bunny for comfort. After visiting the pet shop for accessories for the new pets, they fell in love with another hamster, another bunny rabbit, and two land tortoises that, though teeny, are said to be quite old.  , After the loss of Sweetie and Salty the cats, I don't think I am up to falling in love with any more pets, though we have promised Lily a miniature poodle once we leave Barbados, so I thought vicarious pet ownership through the B's would be great fun for all of us.


The animals did not disappoint.  We chased the bunnies up and down the hallway, cuddling with them, feeding them, petting them, and just falling in love minute by minute.  There was swimming and chatting and 80s music rocking on the patio.  No plan.  No program.  Just being with each other.  This I love about Barbados.  Twelve months out of the year there is sun and sea and an easiness like Sunday morning.  If we were so easy, it would be perfect.  

But we aren't so easy and the circumstances of our being here are starting to weigh on us.  Heavily.  A relaxed Sunday gives way pretty quickly to long work hours for him and lonely nights of solo child rearing for me.  It isn't that we can't find a way to love it here.  There are things that we so love.  Our friends.  The sun and sea, though maybe not always.  The garden.  The pool.  Beautiful rainbows and untouched vistas.  Our children are happy.  They are sun-kissed and so are we.  Kissed is always good.

Sundays are easy.  Didier usually has off from the trials and tribulations of his grueling work week.  We have nice mornings together with homemade gauffres, no rushing, and two parents doling out kisses and listening to endless conversation from both of our chatty Cathies.  I miss the New York Times, but I can endure it for the calm of an afternoon spent in the presence of good friends and loved ones.  And Didier, when we are driving close to home at least, can survive the torture of the Sunday drivers long enough to realize that it's nice for us all to be in the car together, going in the same direction, slow-paced cruising, looking out the window.  Daydreaming.

(c)  Copyright 2011.  City Mom in the Jungle.