confessions of a reformed tourist
1. I never thought I’d say this, but I haven’t done much of anything on the internet for the last year. I still post from time to time, but I haven’t written anything of substance (here) in ages, and lately I go weeks without even checking my email. This time last year I was posting [...]
One night when Bean was about eight months old, we took the subway from my dad’s house in The Bronx to my friend’s apartment on the Upper East Side. He was still Snugli-bound back then, so it was an easy trip. Pleasant. Fun. We had a good night. He found her stash of cat food [...]
West Indian slang for ejaculate (both the noun and the verb) is “break”. I thought, at first, that this was kind of weird, but the more I thought about it, the more it made perfect sense. Break? Break. Break! Yes. Exactly. There’s also a saying, something that you ask people who are just not hearing [...]
Last week I wrote a post in which I described getting ready to go to work in Grenada. I included this sentence: I wear a white sleeveless linen blouse and jeans that reach my ankles, because only tourists wear shorts, and I am not a tourist. In response, an American friend asked: I’m curious why [...]
He loves brooms, mops, the dishwasher, all varieties of soap, buckets and sponges. Mommy, I want to wash. Mommy, I want to sweep. Mommy, why don’t you use the dishwasher? These are some of the first sentences he ever spoke. He was about eight months old when I went back to work. Carol, whose primary [...]
And with good reason. Ironing your clothes / cooking your lunch / mopping your floor are activities best performed before the rise of the day’s heat. I sleep in on Sundays, until maybe 8:30. I get up to pee and while I’m in the washroom, he takes the sheets off the bed and puts them [...]
After she left I consciously thought to myself, OK, you can start grieving now. But I didn’t even know where to start, so I just drank myself as senseless as humanly possible. I craved oblivion. I suddenly realized I hated my job. I hated working in the Financial District. I hated living on the Upper [...]
My housekeeper is a champion phone-talker. All day, she does her work, one of three attached to her ear. Usually she’s just gossiping, catching up with one of her sisters, aunties, or friends. Sometimes she’s venting about her husband. Every once in a while, she’s moaning about her eldest daughter. This is the most infrequent [...]
I used to take lots of videos. Short things, nothing too special. The idea was to capture a minute’s worth of what my life in Grenada was like. What Bean was like as a baby. For a while I forgot about the videos. I was busy with other things. Primarily, being miserable. But recently I’ve [...]
It’s just a little over a year now since we left Grenada. I considered writing an epic post about the cold, reverse culture shock and how diet Coke doesn’t really matter to me as much as I thought it did. But I figured I’d spare both of us that discomfort and instead share a video [...]
