Well here we are, not yet through the Holiday week and already there has been one adventure after the next; a parade of extremes.

Christmas Eve is traditionally celebrated quite differently here than in the US. Most churches offer a midnight service (that easily goes 2 hours). After that, people go house-to-house for a jouvert. Jouvert refers to any party that starts at about 3 a.m. or goes into the daylight hours of the morning. House-to-house is a nice tradition. You go with a group of friends and neighbors to visit all your other friends and neighbors, eating and drinking all the way. The Jouvert just means that you do this and have blaring music until 9 a.m. or so. A talkative (and angry-that-he-was-missing-out) taxi driver explained more of it to me. He said one older man would be the leader of the troupe. He’ll go to the house and sing a Patois song to the effect of "I’m Papa Tjab {Old Devil}, I’ve come for my food and drink and I won’t leave till I get it, so I’ll just sit down here. Bloop!" (The bloop was a sound effect the driver kept making). So to get rid of all the people you need to feed them. The poor women cook for days to prepare.

My neighbors blared the music all night and into the morning, I got two hours of sleep. But for me, instead of the house to house, I just went to some friends’. We had a nice dinner, and I came home about 1 a.m.

The next day I wanted to sleep in and cool out a bit, but Krishna, my host sister in Babonneau, called early to say they were coming by to pick me up.  I was a little annoyed because I was tired and this was the only warning she gave me of any plans, but I figured best to suck it up otherwise I’d be spending Christmas sitting by myself. So I went up to Babonneau to spend the day with my host family. Typically this family doesn’t celebrate because they are Seventh Day Adventist, but they made a nice lunch and even had a bit of wine. It was a typical Lucian Lunch, green fig and corn salad, cabbage and carrot salad, macaroni pie (one of my favorites), garlic and mixed veg rice, lentils, chicken and beef. Beef is a special treat for most people for the holiday, let alone to have two types of meat. I had plenty to eat without the meat.

In the afternoon, we just hung around. Some friends of theirs passed by (which is why it’s necessary to cook triple time--you never know how many mouths you’ll feed). They also had a Christmas concert on TV featuring all the finalists of the Cable and Wireless Star Search. I played dolls and blocks with Chelo quite a bit. She looks a lot the same but was a complete chatterbox. She had a million questions and kept saying "I’m SOOO glad you could come and see me today. When are we taking you home?" Snippy, the dog that would not die, was there, as well as their new puppy, Sparkle. It was really good to catch up with everyone. I should have been real Lucian for the day and gone home with a giant plate of food, but as it was, Theresa sent me with about 5 large potted plants (to go towards my holiday porch beautification project).

Friday was Boxing Day. It’s a holiday that no one seems to really know what it is, but everyone just recuperates from the Jouvert and Christmas.

Yesterday people emerged from their carb comas to the glaring sunlight. Deb and I (and quite a few others) were at the gym early for weights class. The teacher gave us all what-for for having had a couple days off. After that we got a ride with a friend to Pigeon Island where there was rumored to be the finish of a mini regatta. They had tents and food, but there were a max of two dinghies there, one of which belongs to friends (the friends I spent Christmas Eve with, who did not participate in the regatta). Nonetheless, the other beach goers enjoyed the music and food. It was also nice to get away from the insane crowds at our usual beach, what with fat British children kicking sand on my towel (interesting to note here that my spell checker also suggested "brutish" when I spelled "British" with a lower-case B).

So we were minding our business, watching the Sandals guests timidly tiptoe outside the resort boundaries to ride on jet skis, when everyone’s friend, Service, made an appearance. We were putting up with him when he greeted a man who was standing near us (as we later saw, everyone greets him). It was Mr. Chastanet, a prominent businessman and leader, both here and across the Caribbean. He sat and chatted with us for most of the afternoon, while Service came and went and threatened to pour beers on us (very classy, as always).

It was interesting to hear some of his stories, meeting everyone from Bill Clinton to Nelson Mandela and everyone in between, the history and development of St. Lucia and other islands, etc. When he was dropping us home, he mentioned that there was a dinner party at the house of the owner of one of the big resorts, and would we like to come. We said sure, and then immediately went into personal review mode: remember no elbows on the table, pinky extended, etc. (Well not really). But then to stop and think about it, chances are good that anywhere you go here you’ll know people. Sure enough, we knew a good quarter of the people there, either from the gym, from swimming, or from different contacts here and there. So while Mr. Chastanet made sure to spend time chatting with us and introducing us around, we did fine by ourselves too. The party itself was really nice. It’s in Cap Estate, the far north of the island, overlooking the country club golf course. They had one of those kinds of pools where it appears to spill over the edge into nothingness. We arrived in time for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres, and dinner by the pool followed. The food was catered by the head chef of the resort, home to one of the nicest restaurants on the island (and friend of a friend). All the food was really good and healthy, several kinds of meats and fish, regular salad, cucumber salad, tomato and mozzarella salad, shrimps, seafood salad, rice, smoked salmon, etc. I did well again despite avoiding all the meats (although I did try the smoked salmon). Then were the desserts. There was bread pudding, chocolate mousse cake, tiramisu, cheesecake, and mango mousse. I had a bit of each; one was better than the next. After that, many people left but others stayed for a cheese course, drinks, cigars, and dancing. We stayed until about one, and then Mr. Chastanet dropped us home.

As often is the refrain, "Only in St. Lucia…" Only in St. Lucia will I go from having a down-home, soul food Christmas, to dining with the most powerful people in the Caribbean only in two days. When else will I chat with ambassadors and leaders of politics and commerce? My friend Nick who was at the party, teased us about keeping up our necessary Peace Corps Appearances (ie: poverty). But I said I would not turn down an experience like last night. After all, these are all Lucians too, and it’s all Peace Corps and Experience. More stories for the grandkids!