Getting over the hill

That's it! Midterms are over. It's an accomplishment that marks the halfway point of the semester. For those counting the days, Wednesday the 12th was the actual halfway point. It looks like we both came out alive. It was dicey for a little while there. Every morsel of snack food slowly vanished from the corners of our cupboards as study fodder. An emergency trip for Sun Chips had to be made to fuel the study-machine. She arrived out of the book-laden trenches victorious on her first of many battles.

We celebrated by going to a dinner for a fellow student and friend at a restaurant near our place. We had a table of ten. At SGU they have a photography club that recently started up. Apparently this means when a group of five or more students show up in a given location, a photographer materializes and then dematerializes with captured photos of you with which you have no idea what they will do. I decided to join the club. Dinner was good and fun. There are few significant others of first term veterinary medicine students, and at this dinner I was the only one. Being the night of their final, and toughest, midterm they were fairly inclined to talk shop. I was mostly pretty lost, I'll admit, but it was a fun night regardless. They clearly had something on their minds.

On Saturday we went for a relaxing day at Grand Anse. The beach was littered with SGU students. Some were still stuck in study mode. One student created an enormous sand sculpture of a dog's scapula with all its intricacies. Everyone was taking guesses at what they thought it was. What worries me is that all the future doctor, current HUMAN medicine student folk apparently guessed it was a penis. I fear for all the poor men who may endure botched vasectomies or knee surgery. I think we spent a solid four hours soaking in the sea and the sun. Feeling fairly waterlogged we made our way to the IGA to pick up a couple things. We got way more than we thought, so it made more sense to catch a cab than a free bus that is overcrowded. We were left somewhat stranded though because I tried to talk the driver down by 5 EC. My bargaining skills need some work. It was extra embarrassing when the next cab that came by twenty minutes later was the same one and I had to eat my words and pony up the extra coins.

We have been doing more research on transferring back to a Canadian school. Grenada and the school are fantastic. But we have been thinking about the transfer option because it means we are closer to family, it's way lighter on the wallet, and I would be able to work more easily. There are only five veterinary medicine schools in Canada and only three will accept transfer students. In some cases it makes no sense to transfer—the Quebec school is a 5-year program, and you need to redo a year of schooling. This essentially adds an additional two years to your program, compared to continuing studies here in Grenada.  In Saskatchewan the program is 4 years, but you need to redo a year. And finally in PEI, it is not certain, but you may not have to redo anything. The main setback on all of them though is getting in. Spots only become available if their class isn't at capacity. At PEI, for instance, they have been plum full for the last 4 years, and this year they were even over their normal maximum. The process seams daunting and a long shot, but we're crossing our fingers and snorkeling in the meantime.

That's what we did this Thanksgiving. We took an eco-tour by boat around some of the island. The guide provided some great information on some of the species we might see and some background on Grenadian culture. More on that later. Our first stop was snorkeling. We spotted an iguana and some pelicans en-route which was a bonus.

Pelican, briefly.

Under the sea we saw a school of squid drifting along near the coast. These were pretty easily the coolest things I had seen that day. Although, it took me quite sometime to even understand what kind of creature I was looking at. Their eyes being at their back perplexed me and the way their tentacles undulated was fascinating. When we pulled our heads from the water we realized we were a ways from our group. Granted we may have been a bit more advanced in our snorkeling skills, those with a life vest, a pool noodle, and a life preserver seemed a bit overkill. Any more floatation devices on a single person and I think one might take flight. We actually didn't stop in this bay just to see squid and a plethora of colourful fish. The prime reason was to see the sculpture park. Local artisans have created fifty or sixty different under the sea attractions. Some are objects like a bike, or a desk that as articles and information laminated to it. Others are sculptures and statues actually based on locals of Grenada. Coral and corrosion has taken to them largely, adding to their intrigue. We'd forgotten our underwater disposable camera, but here is a shot from National Geographic:

National Geographic photo of the underwater sculpture park.

Our second stop was in the Carenage, a naturally formed volcanic bay ideal for a harbour. Historically, it was where large ships would dock and have their hulls cleaned. They physically roped their boat and pulled it nearly horizontal to clean each side of the bottom. Now the Carenage is part of St. Georges where restaurants and storefronts and a great deal of colourful buildings are scattered along the waterside.

Carenage

It's from here we were able to see the prison. There are approximately 400 inmates and in Grenada apparently there is no chance for parole; however, I think having one of the best views on the island from the hillside might significantly lessen the dejection of their stay. The prison is entirely self-sustained, even rearing their own cattle. After hurricane Ivan all of the prisoners escaped the prison. A number of them incarcerated for drug trafficking were able to hijack small boats and brave the short 150-200km Ocean back to South America. Others, native to the island, either voluntarily came back, or were very quickly rounded up. Being that the island is so small, there are very few places to hide and word travels rapidly.

Grenada Prison

Oh yeah, the fiancée also made us a delicious Thanksgiving pumpkin pie. The pre-made graham wafer crust we were going to use expired last January. I find this strange, because I thought I bought it a couple weeks ago. We had to come up with an alternative and we had none of the usual ingredients to create a crust. We did have chocolate chip cookie dough though. Somewhat surprisingly, it worked out very well and the pie was über tasty. We managed to forget about cranberry sauce and stuffing and the other Thanksgiving fixin's  all together (But I'll admit that now I am looking forward to Christmas for these things). Instead we had cocoa ball tea, a Grenadian specialty. They use cocoa and a variety of spices, often including nutmeg, to create a hard little ball. They smell edible, and the fellow shopper we asked laughed at us when we asked if we could. We were lucky that she was there to explain to us that you boil them in water. What you are left with is a sort of a spiced up hot chocolate that I would definitely recommend trying.

Cocoa Balls

The other thing we tried was the lumpy looking Atemoya I took a photo of in one of my previous posts. They are commonly known as sugar apples. They look disgusting when you crack them open:

Disgusting looking Atemoya

Yum!

 It turns out the flesh that encapsulates the seeds is sweet and somewhat custard like in texture. You should try one, but try it for the first time blindfolded or in the dark.

It's been far too long since my last my post and I have enough material for another already so I'll cut this one off here. Stay tuned.

Getting Curious?

For those waiting with bated breath, de-bate. We still have frogs. Not much has changed on that front. Although I think we have finally gotten the concept across to our landlady. I guess the confusion was somewhere between frogs living with us and frogs living at us. I think the former being our issue. The irony I find is in the herpetology club. They go on walks and are routinely amazed by the frogs they discover. I am thinking about inviting them over as a field trip. But hopping along…

Our landlady does not actually reside in Grenada at present, and so we've been dealing with her proxy. I think I have mentioned her a couple times. She's a very nice lady. We were told not long ago that a new 'official' bill-taker etcetera type person would be coming. She just landed back on the island the other day. We ran into her. She introduced herself as the landlady's name and so we were confused. I assume she knew that we knew that she wasn't exactly who she said she was. She was someone else. It certainly was pretty plainly obvious to us as she drove away from the house—the same house the landlady resides while she is here. It all got sorted today when the first proxy outted the second by introducing her as her actual name. The peculiar bit is that I feel she had no real motive to be someone else. She seems pleasant. I guess it's possible she doesn't like her name. Or perhaps she has always been jealous of our landlady. Perhaps she is stealing her identity. Maybe we are at the very root of a giant Grenadian conspiracy tree. Did I mention we watched the Bourne Ultimatum the other day—it was a good flick. And that lady actually is nice.

We feel pretty secure in our home. We are in one of the nicest neighbourhoods on the island, Lance Aux Epines. SGU has security driving by frequently to deter any unrest or suspicious activity. And lastly, we have an entirely fenced yard with a gate that is locked at all times. By the way, we only have one key to this gate. Typically my student (I don't teach, she just happens to be mine) gives me a quick ring or text as the bus arrives at our stop. I meet her at the gate and let her in. She left her phone at home and today she was left straddling the fence. I can't really surmise how long because I was grooving to my music when I was suddenly disturbed by a rapping at the door. She made it over; she's the only one that can attest to how long I may or may not have left her stranded. I can only imagine what security thought as they passed by. I am guessing she didn't seem too threatening jumping into someone’s yard with a computer, unless of course she was hacking our wireless network in an attempt to unleash a dangerous new computer virus under her hacker alias orca_4219. No, we haven't watched Hackers, or The Net, or basically any movie where the Internet is the focus of the plot recently.

During the summers in BC, one would have to be sure to mow their lawn frequently. Leaving it for a week or two meant a little extra work. Your grass was a little shaggy. I've mentioned the grass here before. I honestly thought it was long at the time. It had been chopped down since. Our field now reminds us of flowing wheat in the prairies. One gets pretty hypnotized staring into it as the wind tosses it back and forth, rippling it like waves on the ocean. It has been about a week and a half since its last buzz cut:

Trade a wood for a wheat?

On the subject of pictures, I think I want to put it into my daily schedule to be overlooking the beach with my camera at sunset. I was a hair late here, but you can see the tail end of what was an amazing sky:

A typical sunset in Grenada.

Midterms are upon us. Students are studying like mad. You know what they say about medical students though. The more they study, the more they think they have what they are studying. I've felt this first hand whenever I look up my own symptoms online. By my count, I have had lupus at least five times in my life. Fair enough, it happens. I am beginning to find it a little odd when certain veterinary students start diagnosing themselves though. Ninety-nine percent of the time I am sure she just has a hairball or is adjusting to her new food.

Please feel free to comment if there is anything of particular interest you'd like to see featured in any of my posts. I'm not likely to describe the texture of off-brand Cheetos, or driving on the left. This would probably only happen if I were eating said faux-eezies while making illegal right turns at stop signs. I would be happy to talk about pretty well anything else. Often I wonder if readers like to hear about some of the more mundane things like our 1/2 ply toilet paper.