sometimes being DIFFERENT is ok....

Not many times in my life have I wished I was black....EXCEPT when I am on the basketball court, until now! I thought I stood out among the Polynesians in Hawaii, but this island has taken it to a WHOLE new level. I find myself everyday WISHING I was not a tall blonde white girl, just trying to survive. As hard as I try to fit in, every attempt has failed me so far. I have moments of forgetfulness and think I blend right in (until I look in the mirror or at a picture), but it doesn't take long to remember the truth. Let me tell you why.....

In the beginning, everyone around me LOOKED black. That sounds funny, but I saw color. The longer I am here, color disappears and I no longer see color I just see people. Just like motor bikers who pass on the highway wave, every time I saw a white tourist I nodded, and I'm sure with a look of desperation, my face said..."hey...we are the SAME!"

Though I do not see color, I cannot hardly leave my house without being reminded I am a WHITE GIRL!

For starters, my crazy drunk neighbor does not even let me forget. Though he has finally stopped asking if I have a boyfriend after 6 months....he stills calls me "my girl", asks me to come over and see him, and while offering to carry my groceries tells me he wants to marry me.

It does not matter how far, how fast, or where I go running, without fail there seems to be a different group of men cat calling, making kissing noises, and yelling after me "hey SEXY lady!" (and trust me, I don't look "sexy" when I run!)

I can rarely pass the vagrants (bums) on the street, without them reaching out and begging me to shake their hand, them calling after me "I love you", (...oh please no!)…oh wait, and them "telling" me to give them money. My mother only made that part worst for me...when visiting here in St. Lucia, I lost track of how many times she gave this one particular man money….he knows me even by my car and calls me buddy!

One afternoon I was approached by a good looking guy on a bike…the first words out of his mouth were “me and you would look good together, you are beautiful!” 

Laughing I said, “well that’s nice of you, but I’m married…sorry!”

“…so you are sure there is no chance?”, he said with a smile.

The second time I was approached by a guy on a bike, the exchange was not so innocent.  If I had not been caught off guard by his offer, I may have pushed him off his bike.  Needless to say that the men here are not the most wholesome and innocent!!

The loud kissing sounds, the “hey sexy ladies”, the “my girls”, the “I love you’s”, and the marriage offers….have just become part of my everyday experience here.  Not a day passes that I am not told I am beautiful by a complete stranger.  As appealing as that sounds, those gestures have simply become a reminder to me that I am a WHITE GIRL!  No matter how hard I try to blend in, and forget that I am not black, I don’t imagine the men here will let me forget!!

But being the WHITE GIRL isn't always so bad.  Sometimes being just alittle bit different...is ok! Its experiences like these that make it all worth it......

 

Picking Mangos with my favorites nieces and nephews! They love when I bring them surprises from Idaho...I think I have officially become there favorite auntie! 

 The church donated a bunch of camping gear and cooking stuff to this group of girl scouts.  The couple times they have visited the church, they won't leave me alone :) Combing (braiding) my hair, bugging me about when I am going to "make" my own babies, asking me about Idaho (where the potatoes come from), and I LOVE every second of it...and LOVE all of them!

 Jillian (my friend Jannels niece) brings a smile to my face every time I see her.....she runs towards me with arms out stretched, yelling "Liiinnnndddsseeeey"!

...why are you here??

To be honest…after slipping through immigration three times prior to this, I had begun to believe I just might be able to worm my way out of any situation, that I just may be able to go Visa/extension free for the entire 18 months here, that the Lucian government would not succeed in taking every penny I own….boy was I wrong!

We returned to “paradise” last Sunday.  Every time I prepare to come through immigration I have a routine…fix my hair, wipe my eyes, straighten my clothes, all the time giving myself a silent pep talk to bat my eyes, smile big, and “Play Dumb!”  As I stood in line next to Brandon I knew we were in for it before we even got to the front of the line.  To my misfortune, 6 out of the 7 immigration guards checking paper work were women…my regular routine, a WASTE OF TIME!

We stepped up to the window…”passports please?”  After standing in silence for what seemed like hours, watching her flip back and forth through the pages of my passport, robotically looking for something that was apparently not there, she looked up at me and asked…

”Why are you here?” 
I replied with the only logical answer…”to visit my husband who is in medical school.”  Immediately follow she responded with…”when are you leaving?” 
With a smile I replied…”within the next few weeks, I have not yet purchased my ticket so I am unsure of the exact day.”

And that was all she wrote….

Brandon and I were escorted promptly to the back, also known as fDETAINMENT, where we were commanded to sit down.

Question after question…

Officer…“Why are you here?”
Me…”To visit my husband who is here going to school?”
Officer..."...but why are you here?"
Me....(thinking are you for REAL?)..."to be with my husband."
Officer…”Why do you want to see him?”
…..”ummmm, (with tested patience) because he is my husband.” (forcing my eyes not the roll back into my head and willing myself to not bust out in laughter!)

What seemed like 100’s of repeated questions, some mediocre attempts at intimidating me, and my butt getting sore from the hard chair, the immigration boss hog came to a conclusion.

I would have to pay basically 500 US dollars for the time I had been here “illegally” and had to book a plane ticket home, (so that I had a date that I would be returning to the states), on the spot…which means I did not get the best deal at all.  Until I came up with the money for both of these things, my passport was in custody, and the last thing I wanted was for them to hang onto my passport...who knows if I would ever get it back.  So just as they commanded I paid up.

Lesson learned…next time you are planning to stay in a country illegally, whatever you do…AVOID female immigration officers, because the routine, only works on MEN!!

 

(YES...this picture was taken in detainment...I could not let the experience pass without a picture to remember the moment.)