Early February started off with a tropical depression extreme weather, Cold, pouring, drenching rain, Sahara Dust, very high angry seas, and sailboats tossed ashore. Almost 5 days of this, By Carnival time it was over, leaving our beach with 3 meters of ocean debris, large logs, and uprooted coconut trees, garbage, a smelly mess and no interesting driftwood.
Then came pre-carnival week with its own kind of storm....noise, relentless, thumping, pounding, stultifying, mindless noise. I will not honour it with the word "music", although this is what the local people call it. It is a computer-driven rhythm only, which I guess is what is required. The Saturday before Carnival Monday's 5 am Jouvert, the guy with the Bar on the Square had his amplifier on overdrive until 3 am.
I managed all of it, including McD's multiple preparations and worries, and had Hen and Mait on standby in case of my collapse. By the time the band and its revelers came around again, I knew my breakdown was coming so I called my team. Hen arranged to pick me up. Tracy turned up and we went to meet Hen.
Hen lives below the school playground in Savanne Paille. She has made the little house, (formerly owned by Annika) her own. Lovely, peaceful, calming. She graciously installed me in her downstairs fully equipped apartment, fed me a delicious supper, we chatted a bit, smoked a cigarette, and watched the sunset. I slept, for 12 hours, doors and windows wide open, (McD's marauding evil spirits or mosquitos were not present), awoke restored and comforted and came home to Portsmouth.
At the moment it is far from quiet. The truck with amplifiers as big as refrigerators is parked outside my veranda. The poor old house is throbbing and things are jumping off the walls and shelves. I came home too soon.
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