Sunrise, Sunset

I’ve been asked what a "typical" workday is like. Typical hasn’t happened yet, but I’m starting to get a sense of what may become routine, after my jaw stops dropping at the scenery, that is.

When the sun rises, the birds and I begin to rustle and connect with the new day.  My back porch addresses a ravine planted with fruit trees, so I watch bleary eyed as the sun breaks thru the branches, and the finches chatter and stab at pommecythere fruit.

A cup of tea, blogging and fresh mango take me thru the first hour  of communing with nature.  Then, a short walk to the beach for a dip and stroll along the tideline.  I’m usually in solitude at the shore, but as I depart, the Rastas are making their whimsical way, and we fist bump and exchange greetings.

After a cool shower and breakfast I practice cello each morning for a couple of hours before dressing, food prep and head to school.  Sometimes I travel with my neighbor, the Russian pianist, or I make my way alone by bus to the city of Castries.  In order to change buses, I cross the sprawling outdoor market bartering for supplies along the way. 

After another brief bus ride, I’m at work.  All is peaceful.  This building serves most students after their school day, so  there  is often time to set up my room and administrate.  When the students do arrive the school is humming.  Children are everywhere.  Practicing, rehearsing, chatting at the picnic table. Somewhere along the way the sun drops into the water outside my window and the peepers pipe up.  Cruise ship horns let us know they are sailing to Martinique or Barbados and then the harbor is still.

Around 7pm, the other teachers and I pack up, lock the doors, and ride back home by car. Students are still jamming in the pavilion, but

I’m usually exhausted and deeply in need of another shower.  Could be worse!