islandchild (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
islandchild) wrote2024-11-07 06:39 am
islandchild) wrote2024-11-07 06:39 am
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Entry 7 - November 7 2024
Yesterday couldn't wait to get out of the house. For some reason had the urge to dress like a trophy wife on her way to the yacht club brunch. Before I leave the house it's a crisis of whether to be modest and dress down, or YOLO with my gold and nice clothes. Most women here don't have much. Low salaries, many mouths to feed. Women usually try to look clean and presentable but there's a difference in style between those who can only shop at the island stores (think walmart but WORSE quality) and women who shop abroad. I don't want to sound like a snob but it's what I have observed.
99% of my clothes are from thrift stores in America, or I made them myself. Yesterday the top I was wearing was a handmade kerchief linen I sewed last month. When I lived in the states I just shopped (a lot, too much) at thrift stores exclusively as soon as I had my own money/transport, and I got a little obsessed with fibers and making the clothes I loved but couldn't afford.
Going to a New England boarding school full of wealthy, stylish people, and being a vain, self-conscious little nerd, I fixated on my appearance as a way to gain points since I was both broke and a bad student (though still a nerd. Just not an A student nerd). Once I got rid of my transition lenses and dome-of-the-rock sized backpack I even became pretty. Did that stop me obsessing about my appearance? No. If anything I got worse.
I don't wear makeup or high heels, I don't reveal a lot of my body, but I'm fanatical about clothes and jewelry.
Here, it feels less like fitting in and more like showing off. I don't like that feeling.
The heat WAS insane. We went to Caribbean Metals for some BRC for mom. Then we went to the Ministry of Transport. Or maybe it was the other way around. Anyway, K got the information he wanted and I got a doctor's form I need to fill out and bring back with my American license and national ID, and most likely hundreds of dollars. The truck console started smoking ominously but it was fine, according to Khem...
Dropped the BRC for mom. She somehow convinced him to stay through the week and help her on the weekend. He was supposed to drive back down to Mopo yesterday.
After that, we went up North to get the jumper cables back from his uncle Marcus. Marcus is the only person from his father's side of the family Khem speaks to. He owns and lives in some apartments on a riverbank. The apartments are trashy and Marcus is a comfortable bachelor. Maybe too comfortable. He was excited to talk to us about the election. Marcus used to live and work in Michigan and finagled an American Citizenship. He did not vote but he supports Trump because he said, to paraphrase, the Democrats are a part of the "elite" and think people are stupid. He is also (like most island men) uncomfortable with homosexuality. But he agreed that the government shouldn't interfere with womens' bodies. He excitedly told us that kale is a wonderful birth control method for women. Yes, kale. The plant.
He said, "America runs on two businesses. War and illness. They love war, and they want people to be sick. That's how they keep making money."
After we left Marcus to untie his goat from the basketball court, where she'd been happily eating grass all day, we pushed North again. It was 2pm. I got a big plate of local food, and Khem got KFC. We drove to the same beach we've been going to this week.
I could tell Khem had a lot on his mind. Sometimes he just won't tell me if he wants to be alone. He plays very close to his chest. He doesn't tell me everything. Humor is his way of masking his emotions. He never loses his temper, never gets overtly rattled by anything. Once I asked him how he does it. He mimed shoving a big thing inside a tiny box. It was funny. That's his way-- just make a joke, or get very quiet. He was quiet.
I figured it was his truck. His new project. While he walked around it silently, inspecting the undercarriage, the doors, I went to swim.
The water was amazing. Cool rain blew in and chattered on the surface of the waves. Cold rain, warm ocean. It was like music. A show of lights. The view of the bay was incredible. I twirled around feeling happy and so free. I swam a good while before K joined me. He started cracking jokes so I knew he was feeling better.
We stayed until sunset. I smoked. Got very high.
On the way back it was getting dark. We passed my uncle's wife standing at the bus stop. She's nice enough but a huge gossip. She asked if we could take her to B---, which is FAR, and up in the HEIGHTS. We were exhausted. Manual vehicle. The truck's brakes aren't good. It was dark. Boundaries. I said we couldn't and she said "go ahead, go ahead". I hoped she wasn't offended. Next time I see her I'll be very nice to her.
We then passed Denia, walking from work. She jumped in and started filling me up on gossip, all that going on with her business and her business partners. I am thirsty for any information on that subject. But we had to set her down quickly at another bus stop, because her place is even more dangerous to get to than my Aunt's. That's another story.
Denia was the only white person waiting for a bus. She usually is.
Another story.
We went to get air in the tires. The machine wasn't working at the first place. Or the second.
We drove home. K was extremely quiet again. Tired, probably. We'd been gone since 11 AM driving up and down. I don't remember what we did, but it was a hard sleep that night.
Feeling okay this morning. Missed my habits yesterday and wrote only 200 words. Unacceptable.
Better today-- Mom is still home sick.
-J
EDIT: Forgot to add I met a local woman named Jodi married to a Romanian guy. They live here and have a son named Theo (?) We bonded over natural fibers and moving back home from abroad. She was nice, friended me on instagram.
I picked up my order of vintage glass buttons from ebay. This is the LAST time I spend money on non-essentials. The buttons are nice, but too expensive to order here.
99% of my clothes are from thrift stores in America, or I made them myself. Yesterday the top I was wearing was a handmade kerchief linen I sewed last month. When I lived in the states I just shopped (a lot, too much) at thrift stores exclusively as soon as I had my own money/transport, and I got a little obsessed with fibers and making the clothes I loved but couldn't afford.
Going to a New England boarding school full of wealthy, stylish people, and being a vain, self-conscious little nerd, I fixated on my appearance as a way to gain points since I was both broke and a bad student (though still a nerd. Just not an A student nerd). Once I got rid of my transition lenses and dome-of-the-rock sized backpack I even became pretty. Did that stop me obsessing about my appearance? No. If anything I got worse.
I don't wear makeup or high heels, I don't reveal a lot of my body, but I'm fanatical about clothes and jewelry.
Here, it feels less like fitting in and more like showing off. I don't like that feeling.
The heat WAS insane. We went to Caribbean Metals for some BRC for mom. Then we went to the Ministry of Transport. Or maybe it was the other way around. Anyway, K got the information he wanted and I got a doctor's form I need to fill out and bring back with my American license and national ID, and most likely hundreds of dollars. The truck console started smoking ominously but it was fine, according to Khem...
Dropped the BRC for mom. She somehow convinced him to stay through the week and help her on the weekend. He was supposed to drive back down to Mopo yesterday.
After that, we went up North to get the jumper cables back from his uncle Marcus. Marcus is the only person from his father's side of the family Khem speaks to. He owns and lives in some apartments on a riverbank. The apartments are trashy and Marcus is a comfortable bachelor. Maybe too comfortable. He was excited to talk to us about the election. Marcus used to live and work in Michigan and finagled an American Citizenship. He did not vote but he supports Trump because he said, to paraphrase, the Democrats are a part of the "elite" and think people are stupid. He is also (like most island men) uncomfortable with homosexuality. But he agreed that the government shouldn't interfere with womens' bodies. He excitedly told us that kale is a wonderful birth control method for women. Yes, kale. The plant.
He said, "America runs on two businesses. War and illness. They love war, and they want people to be sick. That's how they keep making money."
After we left Marcus to untie his goat from the basketball court, where she'd been happily eating grass all day, we pushed North again. It was 2pm. I got a big plate of local food, and Khem got KFC. We drove to the same beach we've been going to this week.
I could tell Khem had a lot on his mind. Sometimes he just won't tell me if he wants to be alone. He plays very close to his chest. He doesn't tell me everything. Humor is his way of masking his emotions. He never loses his temper, never gets overtly rattled by anything. Once I asked him how he does it. He mimed shoving a big thing inside a tiny box. It was funny. That's his way-- just make a joke, or get very quiet. He was quiet.
I figured it was his truck. His new project. While he walked around it silently, inspecting the undercarriage, the doors, I went to swim.
The water was amazing. Cool rain blew in and chattered on the surface of the waves. Cold rain, warm ocean. It was like music. A show of lights. The view of the bay was incredible. I twirled around feeling happy and so free. I swam a good while before K joined me. He started cracking jokes so I knew he was feeling better.
We stayed until sunset. I smoked. Got very high.
On the way back it was getting dark. We passed my uncle's wife standing at the bus stop. She's nice enough but a huge gossip. She asked if we could take her to B---, which is FAR, and up in the HEIGHTS. We were exhausted. Manual vehicle. The truck's brakes aren't good. It was dark. Boundaries. I said we couldn't and she said "go ahead, go ahead". I hoped she wasn't offended. Next time I see her I'll be very nice to her.
We then passed Denia, walking from work. She jumped in and started filling me up on gossip, all that going on with her business and her business partners. I am thirsty for any information on that subject. But we had to set her down quickly at another bus stop, because her place is even more dangerous to get to than my Aunt's. That's another story.
Denia was the only white person waiting for a bus. She usually is.
Another story.
We went to get air in the tires. The machine wasn't working at the first place. Or the second.
We drove home. K was extremely quiet again. Tired, probably. We'd been gone since 11 AM driving up and down. I don't remember what we did, but it was a hard sleep that night.
Feeling okay this morning. Missed my habits yesterday and wrote only 200 words. Unacceptable.
Better today-- Mom is still home sick.
-J
EDIT: Forgot to add I met a local woman named Jodi married to a Romanian guy. They live here and have a son named Theo (?) We bonded over natural fibers and moving back home from abroad. She was nice, friended me on instagram.
I picked up my order of vintage glass buttons from ebay. This is the LAST time I spend money on non-essentials. The buttons are nice, but too expensive to order here.