Limbs or Laptop - Mercredi, 27.09.06

Mercredi 27.09.06 Limbs or Laptop

There’s a HUGE cockroach in my bed this morning. He’s clinging to the mosquito net just above my head. I’m not a screamer but I do let out a muffled gasp. In my hurriedness to capture the critter I leap out of the bed and hear a crunch. My first guess is that it’s my visitor’s relation but it’s actually my bug-eye sunglasses. That’s the second thing of mine to get broken. I’ve not even been here a week and my new sunnies and watch are smashed L I put the bed bug in a pint glass and fling him into the forest.

At least I still have my brown sports sunglasses to keep my eyes safe. I slip them on as Nicola and I hurry upstairs to Madame Arlette. We’re getting another lift into Hyper U. Tonight we’re off to Saint-Luce for our Stage D’Accueil. On Friday night there will be a soirée animation culturelle where eveyone’s expected to bring food and items from their country of origin. Of course neither of us had room for Guinness or Cadbury’s in our flight luggage; and even if we did it would most definitely be guzzled by now. Hyper U has both the black stuff and the nutty, fruity brown stuff. Somehow with only a few groceries thrown in we manage to spend €80. I guess the shopping trolley is just one of those expensive, enigmatic entities…

We also make a stop at a pharmacie so Nicola can get some creams and ointments for her big bites. I later become Ruth the Registrar as I apply these mixtures to nursed Nik’s lumpy limbs.

My responsable (appointed tutor), Madame Jossylene Delepine, calls to arrange a pick-up time and place so she can bring me to Saint-Luce. I ask if Nicola can come too since her responsable has left her hanging. Jossylene refuses, politely saying that she is only in charge of me and that she’s sure my friend will be looked after. Nicola is contacted and she’s told that she can only be brought in the morning. Of course Nik’s only too glad to stay at home for an extra night to rest her legs in peace.

William, our neighbour, offers to drop me off near Chateauboeuf A, my assigned primary school. I’m there well before 16,30 but it gives me an opportunity to peak around the school – or rather to peer in the gates since it’s locked during the day. There’s a notice outside stating that the canteen staff are on strike today so no lunch will be provided. There go the French and their strike-happy action yet again.

Jossylene appears a little later. Her cute, little daughter Chloë is also with her and she pipes up every second minute to ask questions or make observations. Jossylene tells me a bit about my job description and what is expected of me. At the Stage D’Accueil all this will be repeated in greater detail but this journey gives her an opportunity to tell me about past assistantes in Chateauboeuf A. Hilary (USA) was the previous assistante and Kimberly (USA) was her predecessor. She praises both girls. Each person adds a different flavour to the mix. Chateauboeuf A has had assistantes for the past 5 years. Jossylene has been to Ireland and she tells me I’m so lucky to have such a strong culture to share with the children. She says that even the fact that we have green post-boxes will amaze them.

It’s not long until I’m sharing my culture and background with many other nationalities at Saint-Luce. In total there are fifteen different nationalities represented under this assistantship programme: Irish, English, Scottish, Welsh, Australian, American, Canadian, Spanish, Portuguese, Bolivian, Costa Rican, Jamaican, Trinidadian, and Dominican. We total 55. There are five Irish altogether although Nicola and I are the only two who live in Ireland. Alex comes from Tyrone, Marjorie is from Cork and James is from Limerick although they’ve all lived in Great Britain for the past few years.

Most people have only just arrived tonight. There’s a buzz around the place with introductions being done and various languages being spoken; though it’s clear that most people are wrecked after coming straight off a plane. I’ve been here four days and I’m still out of sync. The agenda for tonight is as follows:

Mercredi 27 september 2006

Arrivée des assistants
Accueil aéroport par les tuteurs et visite du logement
Dîner

Our lodgings for the next few days are bungalow huts scattered around the conference centre. Each bungalow hut is named after a plant and each houses four people. Carolina (Costa Rica), Paula (Bolivia), Theresa (Spain) and I are in the Acajou (mahogany) hut. It’s a basic bungalow with two bedrooms, a kitchen/living space and a bathroom. There’s a terrace out the back which looks into the forest. There’s already someone in the hut to greet us – a crab. It turns out they live under the hut and they can be seen scurrying around all evening. Little Chloë comes to visit me in my new home. She’s very inquisitive; especially regarding the contents of my bag. The Guinness and Cadbury’s however stay in the fridge.

Nicola calls me around 19,00 to say she’s on her way since Madame Ciserane, the director, said it was paramount that everyone be there. Nicola is put in the Palétuvier (mangrove) bungalow nearest the centre. She’s with Kyla (USA), Francesca (UK) and Bex (UK). Their hut has an ideal vantage point and it’s not too far from the water-cooler so we spend most of our free time congregating on their terrace. The vista is important as there’s a gay no-drinking policy but from the terrace we can see everything and everyone. Jill (USA) and Tom (UK) were collecting money for drinks earlier in the evening but Madame Ciserane made them get juice and fruit instead. Of course a few cans and bottles do appear throughout the night; though the Guinness stays chilled.

We all assemble in the conference hall around 20,00. Madame Ciserane briefly welcomes us to the programme and the centre but it’s the local tourism students who welcome us to Martinique. They’re dressed in local costumes and introduce themselves and their island using poems and passages. They then perform some traditional dances and try to get us weary Westerners to try out their dance moves. Some are more biddable and flexible than others. Next we’re given packs with information on Martinique. It comes in a green, madras patterned paper bag. Madras is the traditional checked pattern used in fashion and furnishings across the island.

We’re enticed by the announcement of some ‘Caribbean cocktails’ though they turn out to be fancy fruit juices. Most people haven’t eaten since midday and so a cheer is let up when we hear our dinner is on the way. Each bungalow has to take a turn serving the food and tonight it starts with Acajou. We deal out platefuls of suspicious looking cucumber salad with bread rolls and dishes of tuna steak and rice. It actually tastes good and fills the void so no more grumbling is to be heard for a while.

Some people head straight to bed but some have found that innate human ability to stay up till the wee hours. There’s a bit of a gathering at the Palétuvier hut. Some new faces are introduced; David from Scotland, Marco from England and Gethin from Wales who entertains us with the world’s longest word:

LLANFAIRPWLLGWYNGYLLGOGERYCHWYRNDROBWLLLLANTYSILIOGOGOGOCH.

It’s the name of train station in Wales. This word has 62 characters but Gethin tells us there’s a longer version.

The long day has taken its toll on us all but it has been worth it as we’ve made some new friends and acquaintances. There’s one person who we all seem to know: Miss Kirsty Munro. She emailed the previous week asking if anyone wanted to meet her in Paris. At that time she still didn’t have her ticket booked but it later transpired that she was going to stay in the UK because, “Love is sometimes stronger than sand, sea and sunshine…” We toasted her in her absence and ching-chinged the start of our own time in Martinique.