A typical place to call home

The next island southbound was St Vincent.. This island is the ‘erb’ growing capital of the Caribbean (A$150/pound), From the boat sailing past this island its possible to see ganja farms with randam rows of ‘christmas tree’ like plants – its so extensive. We hitched up to Trinity Falls and wandered throught the giant bamboo groves with Carl and Tanya off “Helen Victoria”. From St Vincent the gunja is trafficked out to all over the islands and the USA. It is not a violent drug but it strikes me in these places where Rastafarianism is a culture rather than a religion that a lifetime of smoking has some serious side affects. I have tried to communicate with many Rasta’s, on many occasion they really don’t know the difference between stop and pause. In Soufriere on St Lucia (and in other towns) we noticed quite a few “crazy” homeless looking older men staggering around. Mentally ill people living in poverty, squatting near the rocky esplanades, doing some begging from time to time if a tourist passes by. Couldn’t think of a nicer environment to waste your life though, and the majority of people are genuinely polite and friendly. The crazy guys are an accepted part of the scenery.
We wandered into Soufriere on a Sunday. Life in the village seemed pretty good. As is often the case, the most central house, the one near the communal washhouse and water supply tap, was blaring out reggae from what must have been a colossal speaker stack, the women were hanging the freshly washed clothes out on the power lines that sag into each shanty home, and the kids were getting their clothes filthy again taking turns being dragged around by the dog’s tail etc. It’s colourful and we never felt edgy about our safety in any of the islands despite the groups of loitering extremely well built black men.

The ‘family unit’ in the Windward isles is a rangy concept - the locals are proudly and overtly promiscuous. The local calypso music campaigns rampant morals on every radio station. (Pious Patti was shocked by the lyrics!) In the local magazines and on radio male role models, be they aged famous musicians or politicians are proud that they have “12 or maybe 14 children” by as many different women. I asked a church group outing of young children on the beach how many brothers and sisters they each had. They had to think hard about it and most had more than eight. Someone told me the HIV rate is about 50% which does not surprise me. But then it makes sense to have very many brothers in the hood.