The challenges of "island living" are more evident after spending much more than just a 2-week vacation on the islands of St. John and Kodiak. Though different, the lifestyles of these two islands taught me a thing or two about life and living itself.
Jaime and I had a great time with Emily and Nate (Jaime's sister & bro-in-law) in St. John! The first 2 weeks especially were our "vacation" time! We all stayed at the "Jungalow" (
Bungalow in the Jungle) together. (Em and Nate even let us sleep in their bed!)
The jungalow is a building the landlord lived in while her house was being built. Many people still live in their "cottage," and put their house building on hold because of the high costs involved. (Think 2-3x what it takes to build a house in Florida!) The jungalow, in this case, is rented out by the homeowner to make additional income, which surely helps when a head of broccoli is about $7, and a quart of Ben & Jerry's is $8! So we stayed in the plywood/screen structure with a tin roof. Though it was somewhat open to the elements, the jungalow had a sense of comfort about it.
It was nestled deep in the valley of Fish Bay, and there always seemed to be a cool breeze blowing. We went to sleep much earlier, since it got dark pretty early and there weren't as many distractions to take up our time. Some rainy nights the air got pretty cold, but we just pulled the cotton blankets over our heads! It felt like we were the lost boys in
Neverland! I miss the sounds of trees dancing in the wind, and hermit crabs crawling to find dinner on the forest floor.
Jaime could not wait to grow veggies and herbs, and he planted garlic, basil, onions, lettuce, and peas! I busied myself one afternoon by building a little "fairy house
teepee" out of things I found on the ground. It looked pretty neat when it was done!
One Sunday after church, we stopped by the grocery store and started to drive up "Jacob's Ladder," which is a very steep hill that requires hitting the gas and sometimes a wing and a prayer to get up. Well, we started to go, but never made it up the hill that day! The little car died trying to get up the hill, but luckily the mechanic shop was right next to the hill! Out we went, and ended up calling a taxi to come take us - and our groceries - home. It was at that point when we had to get really creative with transportation! Emily drove a work truck, and sometimes if it was on her way she would drop us off at work around 6a.m. (3 1/2 hours early. It was worth it, getting up that early, just to know we had a ride!) When we got jobs at "Big Planet," the surf shop in town, we would get there super early and just sleep on a picnic table bench at the park across the street! Once a park ranger stopped by and asked us a few questions, to make sure we hadn't spent the night there. It was humbling, too, hitch-hiking to work quite a few times. (It's actually very common and safe for people to "hitch" in St. John. Most people have "been there"!) I've never felt quite as grateful as I did when I saw
someone's brake lights come on for us! We rode in the back of cars, jeeps, trucks... it was an interesting experience!
The first time I hitched, I was by myself, and walked quite a long way towards town before someone stopped. This fancy SUV pulled over, and half of me wasn't sure if it was for me, while the other half didn't want it to be! The driver finally rolled his window down and said, "Hey there, were you begging a ride?" I reluctantly said "
rrrr, um, yes..." and got in. Boy that A/C felt great, let me tell you! He was very nice, and we had just enough conversation to keep it from being too awkward. The other time I had to hitch by myself, a work truck picked me up and this guy was in the back. I knew I would be okay, but he kept staring at my chest! This was incredibly annoying, but I pretended not to notice. In broken
English, he asked me if I had a boyfriend, and I told him yes, definitely! After a few minutes of riding along, I was "finally" able to tap the side of the truck so the driver could let me jump out! Oh yeah. That was also the day I had gotten lost in the brush...
Here's the story: I was by myself one Friday, and didn't feel like hitch-hiking. I knew that Nate had walked home from work many times through "the gut" of Fish Bay, and that the school was very close to his work. So, in what is now not thought of as my greatest moment of genius, I decided to try to find the gut myself, and walk through it to the school. I strapped on my backpack, which held my lunch, my waters, my notebook and my pride, and started walking in the direction of the gut. Or what I
thought was the direction of the gut. I learned a lot about the topography of St. John that day, for instance, did you know that brush gets thicker and tougher as you get higher? Well, I didn't, so I walked up a pretty steep hill ("Nothing compared to walking out of Fish Bay to hitch-hike," I thought.) and made my way through the trees and large rocks. But as I went along, the "brush" which seemed so friendly at first became a little thorny. I knew that there was "catch-and-keep" (a thorny vine which catches onto skin or cloth and "keeps it" when you walk away), but had no idea of what awaited me if I kept going. And the further I went, the less I wanted to go back, because that would mean retracing the difficult steps I had just taken. Stubbornness made me go on. I felt a sharp sting in my arm, and saw "the culprit" go by. My backpack had brushed against a beehive, and when I looked back I thanked God I hadn't
really bothered it. There was a whole hive of bees just beside where I had walked!
So the unfriendly brush became thicker, and thorns and varieties of cactus started to appear. I had jeans on, thank goodness, but only a t-shirt on top, so my arms were getting a bit scratched up. I kept hearing cars go by, so I was sure that when I got "over the hill" I would find at least the road out of fish bay. (But here is another lesson: even on a small island, mountains are very deceiving. What looks like "grass" from far away, can actually be the thickest brush! And, what sounds like it's coming from one direction may very well be coming from somewhere else entirely.) Well, grass I knew there wasn't, but after going up the hill I knew that I had to get
over it. And to my dismay, there was no road when I reached the top. Only more thorns, aloe-like cactus, cactus vines, and more cactus. I was pretty nervous at this point, and knew that I wouldn't be making it to my study hall. I just wanted to find a road. It turned out that the safest way for me to go was over the aloe-like cactus brush.
When I got through that, the mountain curved down steeply, and I had to actually slide
under the brush to go anywhere. I held onto
tree branches as I slid downwards, hoping that I didn't fall. You might imagine that I was discouraged by this time. I was
broken. I knew it was my stubbornness that got me into this situation, and only God could get me out! There weren't any houses in sight and I didn't know where I was. I did NOT want to be there when it got dark that evening! With hours of daylight left but nowhere to go, I just started to call out. "Help," quietly at first, but the vulnerability of that humble word hit me, and I started to cry. "HELP! Please! I don't know where I am! Help!" I said between sobs. "God, please help me. HELP!" It was after a few long minutes of calling out that I actually heard someone reply. It was a man's voice, and he said "Stay there! We'll help you down." Oh sweet relief! And humility. I tried to pull myself together, and started scooting down toward the voice. I was so happy to see a friendly face! In fable-like manner, my savior held out his hand to help me climb down the rest of the way. "Where did you come from?" he asked. "Fish Bay," I answered. "Where are we?" "Fish Bay." (Yes, all that effort and I hadn't even left Fish Bay!) As it turns out, Will (hero of the day) and his friend had also been trying to find the gut, but they got turned around too, and found me on their way back to where they started. Even more amazing was the fact that Will was the boyfriend of Angela, my manager at the surf store! He kindly gave me a ride up to the school where I profusely apologized and explained my absence. And, sweaty, scratched up, and a lot less stubborn, I started walking toward town to work the closing shift at the surf shop.
And
that is how I learned never to go hiking in a strange place without a guide, and also that if I do, I should bring a map, compass, satellite phone and very large machete.
