Flags Up, Oil Down

Checking in—I know I said semi-daily posts. But you see, the way my days are set up out here, I have a checking and a saving’s, and it takes three business days for any transactions to go through. But for real, time slows considerably in the daze of the Caribbean rum… SUN, I meant to say the Caribbean sun. Damn auto-correct.

On Saturday, but really all weekend, we celebrated Grenada’s Independence Day—46 years as a nation: flags up, oil down (the national dish). Ask anyone, I’m easily distracted by a good celebration, especially in the name of freedom. Still, I respect the fact I’m watching my own back and try my best to act accordingly.

The scooter has been one of my best investments in Grenada: the liberty to bounce anywhere on the island, with or without a destination in mind. Before the beach BBQ on Friday, I went on one of these aimless rides and found myself speeding the scooter down an abandoned airstrip—cows cheering me on, I felt myself lift of the ground, not quite.

At the time, I was working on my “next” blog post highlighting the dangers of driving here: the narrow streets plagued with pot-holes and decorated with distractions around every corner. The chickens and goats standing along the curb acting as the only guard-rail for most cliff edges, the general lack of parking for stores and restaurants clogging the road with vehicles are both nerve wrecking variables. There are the occasional locals washing their cars in the middle of the street and don’t forget the countless break-downs.

Also, the three tires in the middle of the road, that’s a roundabout; there is less than minimal signage. The only ones I recall are the frequent yellow triangle reading “Speed Bump Ahead” and the arrows with town names across them. Keep the scooter below 18 mph and your butt won’t even raise from the seat as you slow down. All this to say, drive careful! But keep up with traffic, it gets sketchy when people think they have to pass you. In the words of James Capps, Drive it like you stole it. But stay out of the way of taxis, they are king of the streets and don’t see anything but their destination.

When I arrived at the BBQ, I kicked my shoes below the scooter and walked onto the beach. With a 20-minute ride home on my mind, I had no plans of drinking. I sparked a spliff, strolling between locals playing football (soccer) and dancing on the beach, the skills on display were impressive for any sports fan. I ate my second oil-down of the day—a plate of chicken, lamb, breadfruit, rice, and local seasonings (the contents are based on preference, but cooked together in a large pot) and I soaked in the immaculate sunset.

The music, dancing, and laughter ran deep into the night. With a stuffed belly and my memory full of fly-on-the-wall content. I headed back for my scooter, my apartment, and my rum and coconuts. I had been three days without a drink at this point and my yearning taste buds kept my attention away from the road and the patch of gravel beside the roundabout. Going too fast, I set the scooter on its side and threw myself against the pavement.

Before worrying—I am okay! I collected minor road rash on my ankle, knee, belly, chest, and upper-lip. My right palm absorbed most of the impact. I spit out my tooth, collected the bit of bloody pride I had left and sped home. The rum just wasn’t as sweet after the crash—still I polished off my bottle, cleaned my wounds, and passed out. I slept the entire day Saturday, waking occasionally to renew my Band-Aids. Sunday, I ventured back out of the room by water-taxi, to Hog Island for an incredible calypso concert on the beach. Today, back on the scooter.

Incidents like this wake us up to what is important in life. There are no accidents. Everything happens in perfect timing. My biggest excuse for not writing my book so far has been that it continues to grow and expand with pen and paper, I just have to make the jump to the computer. Well, the choice was taken out of my hands. As my writing hand heals, I am forced onto the keyboard, which is ultimately what I should’ve been rushing home to all along.

Even in paradise, life is not all sunshine and rainbows, there must be storms between so we can appreciate the beauty. My plans to become scuba certified are on hold… but my plans to write a book are more in motion now than ever before.   

Guidance, Blessings

Capt. BZ