Apparently, Toronto Isn't The Centre Of The Universe After All

Just a shorty today - still busy with the poopettes, but I needed a break.

These days, it seems one has to shake one's head in disgust at the education system.

Having a business here, we often need supplies, parts, etc. and we will order most of our needs via the Internet and most of it comes from the States (yeah, I be talkin' about the good ol' U.S. of A.).

Now, living in a foreign country can be tricky in that, when purchasing, many of the online forms require U.S. billing addresses for credit cards, among other information.  No worries:  we generally don't run into this problem and when we do, we phone the seller and place our orders directly without any further snafus.

What happened today totally boggles the mind.

We were trying to purchase an item online but the online order form required a "zip code".  There are no zip codes in the Bahamas.  Sometimes we can work around this problem via Internet but not today so me moms called the supplier and explained the problem she was having with its online ordering form.  All was well and good until the order taker asked for a zip code.  We explained that there are no zip codes in the Bahamas and that entering "00000" (five zeros) will generally be accepted in most computer program forms.

Okay, so the credit car information is given, the shipping address is given and after about ten minutes of trying to explain that our shipping address is different from the billing address - and, yes, we are in the Bahamas but it's going to Ft. Lauderdale - and then plugging in the necessary details, all is going smoothly until the seller's representative asks, "What State are you in?"

WTF???!!!

"We are in the Bahamas", moms says.

"So, what State is that in?", asks the phone rep.

Moms - now completely exasperated - asks for (and gets) the rep's supervisor on the phone.  Pleased with being able to speak with a 'real person' and after going through the whole rigmarole with the supervisor again, he asks my moms ...


... wait for it...


...(honestly, I can't make this shit up) ...



 "So, what State are you in?"
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Yeah, I Be Jumpin' On Santa's Sleigh, too!

A Bahamian Christmas Carol

(sung to the tune of "Chestnuts Roasting On an Open Fire")

Tourists roasting on the ocean's beach,

White sands warming up their toes,

Surfside drinks are always in reach

Dissolving all of their thoughts of snow.

Everybody knows pineapple juice and some coconut,

With some rum makes a tasty island brew.

There will be parties here and some over there, but

Don’t forget to visit Junkanoo.

But wherever you may find yourself on this day,

Be it in temps from 80 to -42,

Its been said many times and in many ways,

A very Merry Christmas to you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

However and wherever you celebrate,

Merry Christmas Everyone!

 

Thar She Blows!

Crap.

It's hurricane season here in the good ol' Bahamas, the Lesser and Greater Antilles and any other specks of land between Africa and the west side of the Gulf of Mexico.  We are all at the mercy of Ma Nature.  I say "specks of land" because, considering the size of say, a continent, we island folk worry that the little bits of Earth that we exist upon will be sucked up out of the ocean and hurled into some unknown place, much like Auntie Em's house did.  Of course, landing in the Arctic would be a nice refreshing break from the oppressive heat right about now.

The first hurricane I ever experienced was Frances in early September, 2004.  She was a very slow moving, "take your time" kind of storm, island hopping to almost every "rock" in the Bahamas.  When she finally reached our island, she was a Category 2, moving westward at the brisk Bahamian pace of two miles per hour, with an eye of about seventy miles in diameter.  Slow and steady gets the job done, so they say.  There was about a six hour break during the eye of the storm where we could safely go outside, let the dogs out  - oh, they were so relieved to be relieved - and survey the damage.  Then the other side of the storm wall came.  Another twelve or so hours of howling winds.

Since I had never experienced a storm before and I had no idea what to expect, the days preceding it was spent making window shudders, stowing and securing everything and anything that could blow away, making drinking water, buying supplies - basically running around like a nervous wreck.  I was so hyped with adrenaline and trepidation that, as soon as the storm hit,  I promptly went comatose.

Several hours later - don't ask me how long it was, the entire ordeal is kind of a blur - my stepfather (a.k.a.Satan) wakes me up in a panic.  This time I know he isn't shitting me.  "She's getting sucked out of the door!", he says.  "Muwha?", I respond.  I jumped out of bed, ran upstairs and found my mother holding onto the hinged window that was attached to the remaining part of a door.  Had Mom been wearing an old fashioned hoop skirt, she would have been sucked up, spinning in the air like a whirling Dervish.  The wind was howling through the soffits like a freight train.  It was all too surreal.

I secured what was left of the door and plugged up the hole with some corrugated plastic sheeting we had lying around (we don't throw anything out), and pieces of plywood that were, thankfully, in the house.  After checking the other doors, I went back to sleep.

Almost two weeks had passed before we got power and the Internet back and just in time to see Jeanne pull a "Crazy Ivan", diverting her projected northerly safe path to a south then westerly destructive one.  I guess she didn't want to miss out on all of the fun that Frances and Ivan had.  Being a woman, it was her prerogative after all.

We didn't get the full brunt of Jeanne's wrath, but just enough to knock out the power again for a couple more weeks and to re-deposit all of the debris that was gathered up after Frances.  The two trees that were uprooted during Frances remain where they fell, but are thriving.  The sea grape produces sweet grapes and the coconuts still bears its fruit - it's way easier to grab one at ground level than trying to shimmy up the twenty foot tree.

The hardest thing to deal with during a storm is the boredom.  There's no power so there's no television or Internet, but we did have a radio and could listen to "Air America" with Al Franken and friends.  The worst thing, for me at least, was being locked up in the same house with Satan for what seemed like an eternity.  Twice.

It's been six years since a major storm has hit, but I am now getting that uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach once again.  There is a storm brewing just above Hispaniola and it looks like it is headed our way  and the westerlies don't appear to be strong enough to steer it northward and away from the islands.  The hurricane centre isn't going to do another fly by until tomorrow, making it unclear as to where it may be headed.  So, I may be away for a bit, making my chore and shopping lists, checking them twice, for I know if the storm comes, it will be naughty, not nice.  And her name will be Bonnie.

"Bonnie lass", my ass.

Potholes

Today is Theme Thursday and this week I thought I would throw my hat into the ring.

I couldn't find a ring, so I used the bougainvillea in our backyard instead.  Deceptively pretty thing, isn't it?  Don't be fooled as these suckers have long, nasty thorns.  They will bite.

And those are my sunglasses, magically attaching to my "eyeballs" when the need arises.

Not too far away from our house, there is a little grocery store that has become very handy to me since I'm always finding that we're out of an ingredient necessary for the dinner I've already started to prepare.  So, off to the store I go.

Recently,  I had to take this trip twice in as many days.  The first time was uneventful.  But on the second trip I noticed this:

Now, potholes aren't generally inexplicable in and of themselves, but this one was particularly interesting because: (a) while they are usually found on those parts of the road most frequented by cars (and lying in wait for the next unobservant driver who will land a tyre - or two - straight into its gaping maw), this one is smack-dab in the middle of the road;  (b) there is very little debris inside the hole and the piece of pavement that once covered it is nowhere to be seen.  Absolutely nowhere. There it is...gone!; and, (c) it happened sometime during the night.

WTF??

So, one has to wonder how this tyre biter came to be.  I have no idea.  But I have a few theories:

1. A land crab woke up from his long hibernation and suddenly popped up out of the pavement due to his urgent need to pee, and didn't notice the pavement on top of his head.
2. It's an obvious impractical attempt at a practical joke by a bunch of drunk and juvenile Bahamians.
3. Aliens came down and sucked the pavement out because they thought it looked like one half of an Oreo cookie and that it would taste good dipped in whatever it is they use for milk.
4. The island farted and sent the piece of pavement flying into the nearby bush.

My vote goes to the aliens.

Still, it remains a mystery.

(My Bad:  Being new here, I forgot (a.k.a. should have realized) to post a link to Theme Thursday  - d'oh!)

Well, I guess it's about time...

...I explain the meaning of, "When I Reach".

Hmmm...

Simply, it's a Bahamian expression that is used to describe the timely manner in which a person (or thing) is to arrive at a particular destination.

For example:

Customer:  "When you be gittin' here to fix da baker?"
Repairman:  "When I reach."

Or:

Bahamasair Passenger:  "What time is da next flight to Nassau?"
Bahamasair Ticket Agent:  "When da plane comes back from Nassau."
Passenger: "When dat be??"
Agent:  "When it reach."

There are various Bahamian words and expressions used to describe things, actions, feelings, people, etc., not to mention those that would describe the reliability and punctuality of Bahamasair (which will remain unmentioned here).

Some of them are:

• "vex"  -  to become angry or cause anger:  "You vex me."
• "tingum"  or "ting" -  thing:  "Bring me dat tingum over der."
• "nex'" or "next"  -  other, another:  "Dis damn tingum not workin'.  Bring me de nex' one."
• "vimon" and "vimen"  - the singular and plural forms, respectively,  for woman:  "Damn vimon, she done burn dem fish."
• "ho" - what some people (usually vimen) disrespectfully say just before they abruptly put you on hold:
  Caller:  "Can I please speak to..."
  From the other end of the phone:  "Ho."
• "Potcake" - a term used to describe the overcooked or burnt rice stuck to the bottom of the pot that was fed to the dog, now includes the description of the mixed breed of dog that has become indigenous to the islands.
• "teet" - teeth,  sometimes 'tit', but not to be confused with:
• "suk teet" - refers to the latter definition above -  no explanation necessary.
• "dis", "dat", "dem" , "de" and "der" - also self-explanatory

And so on.

One of the words that had me scratching my head for some time, is "killamadik".  It's the Bahamian name for a common night bird that inhabits the islands and, if you're are unlucky enough, it will decide to nest just outside your bedroom window and sing.  Very loudly.  All night long.

"Killamadik"  is also a term used by Bahamian men to describe the effect the bird's song has on their  ...um... 'dangling participles' when they want to ...um... well,  you know.  (Yet another shameless use of that euphemism - sorry, but it fit).  I asked around and no one here could give the proper name of the bird but I eventually found it.  Since I couldn't find an audio clip for this post (and I'm not overly adept at all this Internet/posting/formatting shit), you can follow this link which has the bird's song:  Killamadik.

There is one thing that I cannot tolerate: the way some people pronounce word,  "conch".  Now, I realize that two pronunciations are given in the dictionary (God only knows where the second one came from), but  'konk' and not 'konch', is more acceptable, especially to conch vendors here who, should you use the latter,  will probably snicker and overcharge you for your purchase of the gastropods.

So, there you go:  a brief and (hopefully) informative lesson of Bahamianese.  Until I reach again, you be learned.

Post posting edit:  "suk teet" also means, to 'suck your teeth' in response to an insult or other derogatory remark, something like "tsk".