You Might Survive Caribbean Life If....
It's time for a little fun... I am pretty sure that all of our northern family and friends have at one time or another dreamed of picking up roots and moving to the Caribbean. We have heard some say how lucky we are to have done just that. However, Caribbean living is not for the faint of heart.
To be successful, you cannot do an about face when the going gets tough, nor hide inside a rum bottle, nor become a nagging nervous wreck. No..., maintaining dignity, composure, and adapting to change is first and foremost.
We have made many changes to our general life-style. We have also changed our expectations and approach to daily life here. If you can handle and mimic some of the following Caribbean related human triumphs, you too might survive the transition to become a happy island homemaker...
Goodbye City Slicker - Hello Superhero....
You pick up cockroaches, dead flies, mosquitoes, and gecko droppings with your bare hands.
You slap bugs into oblivion on the wall and leave them there for others of their kind as a warning.
You favourite fragrance is Deep Woods Off with DEET.
Steep hills and forest paths are gingerly navigated in flip flops.
A fresh supply of Band-aids are not always needed as toes only bleed a little when you stub them.
Steep hills are challenged and defeated daily with your firm and shapely legs, while supporting your bountiful beer belly.
Even though they’re hardly used, your bras all have sweat stains, or have tie die stains from your t-shirts.
You can no longer be bothered with finger or toenail polish.
Your entire wardrobe consists of thin cotton tank tops, shorts and flip flops.
You only brush your teeth and comb your hair once a day - most days.
Checking a water cistern, lighting a pilot, or priming a pump are no longer intimidating prospects.
Your reaction to noticing a dead frog in your head of lettuce during lunch is to mention the novelty on FB to shock your family and friends, and then have a nice salad.
You're getting good at having a wet/dry, soap, rinse, shower routine in-between bursts of water pressure.
Upon discovering dead lizards and cock roaches under your bed, you take time for good close up look and then unceremoniously sweep them up and throw them away.
Your feet have thick calluses covering ground-in dirt.
All laundry items go into the machine at the same time.
All of your clothes have a grey “hue” to them.
You’ve donated or given away all shoes with heels and now appreciate Grecian style flats and a fresh pair of flip flops.
Your 8oz container of lotion lasts for several years as you are always moist.
You now find it preferable to share your home with lizards and geckos, as they’re discreet and earn their keep eating mosquitoes.
You only have a vague memory of a machine called a dishwasher.
You Adapt to Caribbean Life....
Not only can you understand what the locals say but you joke with the best of them and “shtoopsing” has become part of your vocabulary.
You think nothing of someone else describing you as the "white couple" as you know it will help them identify you.
You describe people by the specific hue and tone of their skin as a practical matter without worrying that you’ll be perceived as “racist” (white, tanned, brown, brown-black, black-black, black-black-black, etc.)
You can mimic the sounds of at least half a dozen tropical birds.
You never wear a watch.
You never turn on your a/c equipment.
Your long flowing locks of hair have been reduced to a sturdy neck-free-contact cut.
You willingly learn, and master driving on the left side of the road without causing others in the car, or those in on-coming traffic, to experience heart attacks or psychological trauma.
You are just as disgusted with swimsuit clad tourists who go shopping downtown (or to other non-beach places) as the people who have been here their entire lives.
You now find the ocean water far too cold for comfort from January to May, and are more comfortable putting on a sweater anyway.
You justify having a smart phone so you can check the time if need be.
Your ankles are stronger than a hockey jock's due to the daily hop-scotch of navigating uneven sidewalks and curbs in flip flops.
You stock up with canned food in July and refresh / rotate your stock for the next 4 months.
You marvel at how many people can fit inside those little buses.
You “thin out” ground cover, or “borrow” seed pods from neighboring roadsides and gardens so you can plant them in your own yard.
You no longer consider it strange to store potatoes, bread, tortillas, open boxes of crackers and pasta in the fridge.
You have one of those old battery operated transistor radios sitting on your night stand.
Candles and matches / lighter are stored in every room.
You double bag and triple bag with zip-lock bags.
You have thought about letting the yellow mellow in the night but can't quite get there just yet. You're waiting for the water stop working...
After sundown when visitors ask, “What’s that loud noise?” your first response is... “What loud noise?” ....before you realize they’re referring to the same tree frogs that used to keep you awake at night.
Yes, you must drink...
You can name all local brands of beer and rum.
You’ve learned to open a beer bottle with a lighter.
You have mastered the "count" system for pouring rum.
You have read and memorized “10 Absolutely Ingenious Ways to Open Wine Without a Corkscrew”
You’re a highly-skilled drunk walker.
When dining out, you prefer a beach bar rather than a restaurant.
You regularly, and without guilt, enjoy lunch beers - several.
When ordering a cocktail away from your local beach bar, you find yourself needing to request a double.
There is a corkscrew and bottle opener in your carry bag at all times.
You’ve celebrated several major holidays in a bar full of strangers.
You only buy the 1.75 litre size of rum.
....You finally recognize and accept that you have become a pirate.