Professional Dress

I received an email today from our class rep detailing what our proper attire should be. Apparently there have been a number of people streaking across campus, as this is the 3rd email we've received on "what not to wear." Here's how the email goes:

I have been asked to clarify and give examples of what inappropriate dress is... (Who needed appropriate dress clarified?! Didn't we learn this where we were 5?)

1.) Skin showing between your shirt and your pants. (Don't dress like Britney Spears, gotchya.)

2.) No "cracks" or thongs showing from the back of your pants. (But but butt two of the clinicians here are guilty of that?)

3.) No showing of boxers or underwear. (Whoever is walking around without pants sure keeps a low profile!?)

4.) No bras showing (We need to stop coming to class topless? Darn.)

5.) No wearing bathing suits under see through clothing. (LOL, we can swim after school on the campus beach. We are on an island. I wonder if we can just wear the see through clothing without the bathing suit? She was not specific about that, so it must be okay.)

6.) No wearing shorts that are so short that they look like you are wearing underwear. (Again, don't dress like Britney Spears, gotchya.)

So to wrap it up... we are supposed to be dressing professional. If you go in to an exam room with a client guys...are going to wear jeans that are falling off you showing your boxers and a shirt with holes in it? Ladies are going to wear no bra and a shirt that shows your midrift?

So... I take it we're liberal enough here to throw our bras to the wind, but everything else must be covered. Do they really have to tell us this?

The Funeral

I went to Gary's funeral today. Made Jossie come with me (since she is my best bud and fellow tenant)... actually we have 5 tests so I really had to twist her arm and drag her kicking and screaming in the rain.

It poured most of the day. The viewing started at 1:30pm, so we got there a bit after 2pm, assuming the services would start at 2:30 and last and hour. Big mistake. We were one of the first to arrive due to the rain (the island stops turning when it rains here). We sat patiently in the pew for an hour and a half as people trickled in, but we had great seats-- the 3rd pew. The family (Mom Brooks, Gary's mother) was thrilled to see me. Keep in mind that this is the 'pre-funeral services.'

We were there for about 30 minutes when the concert started. One person came up and introduced himself as Gary's cousin and middle school teacher. Then he passed the microphone off the a man with a goatee. I have never heard such a voice! We were TOO CLOSE to the speaker (remember 3rd pew). The building shook. I think he was in tune, but I really have no idea. Jossie and I looked at each other.

When this man finished belting out his song or two, he passed the microphone to a woman with equally strong lungs. Then as more people trickled in, a group, I assume family?, joined her on stage. It was like church karaoke without the teleprompter... or like the out takes of American Idol.

As the church filled and the microphone was handed to more newcomers, those seated were overcome with Tourette syndrome. We heard all sorts of vocalizations like "Hallelujah!, JEEEESUS!, Oh lord!, Oh JEEEESUS!, That's right!, Yes JEEESUS!, Oh God!" For a moment we thought someone one in the back was having some really great sex.

An hour and a half went by. Jossie looked at me. I looked at her and replied "I know I owe you big time." She said "No shit! But I have to get back to studying. Have you looked at the program? They haven't even started. There are 8 pages of this stuff. This will take hours. HOURS!"

I looked at the program, and indeed she was right. What had I gotten myself into? What had I gotten us into?! We have 5 exams in a row starting Wednesday. I decided to release her from the never ending funeral concert, "Do you want t take my car?" "No, you are going to need it to get to the cemetery, or if you need to escape, I'll take the bus." "Okay."

It was decided, she would leave and I would stay and represent [all of] the tenants of the house. She got up to leave, and EXACTLY at that moment when she was scurrying toward the door of escape, the cousin/teacher guy announced to all 200 people crammed in the building who we were. I suppose everyone was wondering who the two white chicks were, since everyone had been staring and pointing and not sitting near us. I absolutely love that I look so different here, but it's a smidge uncomfortable being asked if they can touch my hair.

Jossie waved and kept walking. I stood half way up, waved, and sunk back into my pew. I was on my own. The concert continued for another hour and a half with everyone saying and singing something, except for quiet little ole me. When the services finally did start, Gary's father, a preacher, led the prayers, more speakers, more songs, more reading of the Bible, more songs, and more prayers. Toward the end, the group that was having sex with Jesus in the back became far more vocal. One woman came to take Jossie's seat and almost went into a fit screaming to Jesus! Anyone who knows me can guess how bewildered I was. Now multiply that by 10 and you're getting close.

At sunset we drove Gary's body to the cemetery. There two men proceeded to dig a hole, put the coffee colored coffin in the ground, and bury it. A pair of dogs looked on with interest. The program had an insert of graveside hymns to be sung. Everyone huddled around the men digging, some standing on tombstones (not the flat kind), and sung as loud as possible. Then I apparently missed the memo that said we were to repeat the 4 lines of chorus until the grave was filled, but I caught on after the 5th repeat.

When it was done, I went up to Des, Gary's widow, and gave her another hug. I'd given her one earlier when she arrived in tears. Sad. She thanked me for coming and told me she'd be by tomorrow to meet the new tenants in the building. As we were talking, a VERY handsome black man walked up to us. He looked so familiar, since I'd gone through 3000 family pictures with Mom Brooks. I chimed "You look familiar, I've seen your wedding photos. What's you're name?" FYI to all other socially inept persons like me, never say that.

He puffed up "I'm not married! I'm single! Never been married! No kids! I'm an architect! Not married! Single!" I shuddered. So I said "But I thought I saw your wedding picture at Mom Brook's house on the left next to the sofa." "Oh that was probably my dad, we look alike. Are you a vet student? I'm single, here's my card, email me, I come to this island often." Oh and this was said loud enough so that everyone heard. I took the card, gave Des another hug, and retreated into the pitch black cemetery, hiding behind a gravestone, and making my way back to my car without completely breaking my ankle in the divets.

This funeral would have made Gary very happy. I cam almost see him hunched over giggling and saying "Are you serious! Wow man!" He was a great guy, and I'm glad I decided to stay for all 6+ hours of his funeral-concert. It was definitely an experience!

Room Schedules

So as it turns out, in the logic that is Ross, that a make-up lecture trumps a regularly scheduled class.

Our schedule is such:

So here goes, we left room 2 to go to room 3 for Tox. We had Friday, Sept 19th off for Kittitian Independence Day, so the 6th semester's profs decided to make up those classes (6 hours worth from what I hear). We piled outside room 3 as 7th semester filed into room 2 and prepared for class. Since 6th would not budge from room 3, our class rep (political liaison) was volunteered to out the rival class. She approached their prof and told him flatly to leave and 5th had jurisdiction over the room.

It is never good to piss off a prof. I don't think I've ever seen him snipy until today either. It was kinda funny because he does have the ego that most male profs here do. Well he decided it was his room gosh darn it, and we needed to amscray.

Our good natured (and frequently late) Tox prof relented and Tox was canceled. I suppose when the planets align and the stars are just right, the room scheduling will be in order. Until then, yikes!

And for some reason my esnips at the bottom isn't working (and lost 40 of my songs!) so whenever I have time (ha!) and energy (HA!) I'll get it working again.

Brown Widow Spiders

I'm infamous! (But we already knew that.)

Sunday August 17th over break I was cleaning my porch when I found a bunch of brown spiders with messy webs. I was brushing them away when one flipped over and there was a bright orange hour glass. I froze!

When you see an hour glass on a spider, you automatically think of one thing-- a Black Widow. But these were brown? I remember, as a kid, reading about Widow spiders and the variations between them. They can have red, orange, or white hour glasses, or triangles rather than an hourglass, or an hour glass or triangle and a spot, or no markings at all.

Then, taking a study break late at school, I was boasting about my find to a friend, who pointed to a spider web on the picnic table we were sitting at. I, to my friend's dismay, crawled under the bench with my trusty pen light to examine them. When I came back up for air I exclaimed in excitement, "more brown widows!" We decided to get off the bench before were were bitten and had to be care-flighted to San Juan.

I contacted a few Widow spider experts and naturalists specializing in the local flora and fauna of St Kitts. I learned that no one on St Kitts (ie the hospital, the head of medicine, the naturalists, and the locals) had any idea that these poisonous spiders were on St Kitts! I did run across a spider lady on Trinidad who came here in ealy 2007 for a survey of St Kitts spiders. She mentions finding the spiders in an article (Sewlal 2008) that came out this week, but didn't mention it to anyone here. (Why?!?)

A spider expert in Florida explained "But their reputation as venomous is overblown. Although brown widows are 2x more potent, drop for drop, than southern black widows, the black widows inject approximately 3x as much venom, therefore are more dangerous. And black widows are more aggressive and will defend their webs, unlike brown widows. They are in fact very timid spiders toward people, and rarely bite. And black widows are more aggressive and will defend their webs, unlike brown widows."

I was excited anyway. The media center guy on campus helped me take pictures of the brown widows on campus and load them on to Wikipedia. I didn't change any of the wording.

My landlord died.

I saw my landlord on Saturday when he was on his way to the airport to return to Anguilla (where he lives). He looked okay, but tired. Gary had throat cancer several years ago and constantly had 'the sniffles' and the worst snoring on the planet.

I gave him a hard time about his health and selling our apts since he's just had a rush to insure the house. He said he was fine, that he'd developed sleep apnea, and he'd already gone to the doctor. He also had a black eye and busted lip from where he fell out of a chair while he slept. I thought that was an unlikely store, but who am I to judge.

What he didn't tell me was that he was having severe pain all over his body, especially his left arm, and he was having black outs. He went to the hospital on Anguilla for a CT scan, and this is an excellent example of island medicine, but rather than interpret the CT on a patient with neurological issues, they sent him home! He died a little more than 24hrs later.

Apparently, when Des, his wife, woke up she started to make breakfast when she noticed he wasn't snoring like a freight train (really his snoring was that bad), so she shook him, but he wouldn't wake up. The ambulance came around 6:30am and then a doctor to pronounce him dead. Gary's mother, Mom Brooks, called me about 7:15am hysterical. I wasn't sure what the matter was, but I knew it was something with Gary being sick.

I sorted the out the details with housing and the neighbors today, then realized I must have been on the A List in terms of priority of who to call. I had no idea his mother even liked me! She really hates Rudder and Salty... then on Saturday when the guinea pigs ran out of my house and into the garden, I thought she was going to absolutely kill me.

I decided to drive out to Sandy Point (a village) to visit. I brought with me a loaf of banana nut bread and dug up a Tamarind tree with mint planted at its base in the pot. She lived in a modest block home, but poverty of the area was evident in the shacks across the street. She told me about when Gary was growing up, who was the last of eight, a man from the Peace Corps came and adopted one her sons, taking him back to the states. Talking with her was very interesting.

Back to the point, she told me that it would be about a week and a half to two week for the funeral because they were going to do an autopsy and then had to ship him back here. Des will be moving back to St Kitts permanently with her daughter Terese to be close to family. Gary was only 40 years old, and a good landlord, what a shame.