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Saturday, April 4, 2015

Paco the Great

Recently people have begun to point out that I haven't posted in a while. I always reply with a scoff and "What? Nuh-uh! I totally have!" but today google e-mailed me with definitive proof that I hadn't logged into my blog in a month. Whoops!

I have a sneaking suspicion that my lack of posts has something to do with how fast this semester is going (or went, considering it's basically over!) Holy banana split batman! I have never experienced a faster 3 months.

This semester has proved to be full of ridiculous island experiences. For those of you who don't know, I am 1/3 the owner of Paco, who is something some people would call a "car" or "vehicle" but I call "beloved death trap". He's great for going to the grocery store or conversely getting subway 3 nights in a row (it happens frequently) but on the flip side he's also one bump away from falling apart leaving me sitting on a drivers seat in the middle of the road clutching the steering wheel. I love him despite all of his issues, though. We're pretty fortunate because Paco came with a mechanic who pulls up (at his own will), starts working, and calls when he's done. The only problem is we're usually not awake or in any convenient place when that call comes. Ah well. Recently, Marisa and I took Paco out to pick up some school supplies and we stopped at Domino's to get some food (we were hungry... it seemed like a good idea at the time) on our way home. We ate our sandwiches, watched Nancy Grace, and had a ball of a time as everyone does when at Domino's... ... ha.

After lunch we went out to our car, tried to start it - no sound, no movement, no signs of life. Naturally, we tried a different key because we know NOTHING about cars and who knows maybe that key had bad mojo or something. When that didn't work we whipped out our handy-dandy insurance book and called the "help" number in the back. Lucky for us, someone answered and kindly listened to our problem with several "hm, mhms" and replied "Oh I'm so sorry, We don't work with Nagico anymore. Try this number". I was bummed because I felt like I could really trust him and he just ripped that away. We try number he gave me which, as most numbers on this island do, had no one on the other end. I resorted to my tried and true "Oh shit I don't know what to do so I'm going to panic stare at the book like it might magically grow legs and become a mechanic" while Marisa got out and went into Domino's to ask for help. She might be the smarter one, or at least the one you'd rather have in a crisis. I was all "Well, we live here now!" and she was all "Let's fix this!". Anyway, the lady at the counter laughed and pointed to what can only be described as a vacant lot adjacent to an abandoned building and said "That's a garage".

We walk over to find two men/mechanics/possible criminals working on some cars and point to our car saying that it's dead and asking if they can help. After about 5 minutes of them thinking we were asking who owned our car and us trying to say we know who does because it's us but it's dead they pointed us to the back to ask their boss for permission for them to look at it. That was our first "Oh shit where are we" moment. We walk through a lot of cars in various stages of repair and I decided that we were safe because the cars were all pretty nice and people with nice cars don't bring their cars to chop shops because I am a naive IDIOT. When we got to the back there was literally no one except a shadow inside of a range rover in site. I said "Hello...." and about 2 minutes later he hops out of the car and asks what we need to which we reply and he (I think out of pity) sends his guys to go look at our car. After some nervous standing around our car is fixed and thank god we had enough cash to pay them and we drove away as they laughed very visibly at us. Whatever, I wrote a post about them and how nice they were to fix our car... shows them... oh boy.

I can't decide if the experience was so ridiculous because I'm a ridiculous person who then spends the rest of the day concocting crazy impossible backstories for our mechanic saviors or if the island is really just that crazy where reputable garages are behind a Domino's in an abandoned lot. Both are equally likely in my head.

Life on the island is never dull. If it isn't creative heckles, traffic that appears out of no where, ridiculous encounters, it's something else. I've got to get back to studying so I can't completely fill you in what's gone on in the past month but here's some picture-cliff-note versions

This is my personal favorite picture perhaps ever taken. It features Meghan, my roommate, Lola, and our walkway. Lola had an obstruction (unknown at the time) and this picture captures Meghan (with a perfume soaked paper towel in her face) trying to um... assist Lola. At the time it was both horrifying and hilarious because it was a mixture of the two of us gaging, Lola whimpering, and Meghan screaming "I don't know what to do!!" Thankfully, Lola had a vet appointment the next day anyways.



These next pictures are form the Lamont's trip to St. Maarten or as I named it "The Lamonts take on humidity and sharing a small apartment!" It was wonderful to have my parents and grandparents here and even more wonderful to enjoy their private terrace with the below view. I'm kidding, I liked having them here better. They were fortunate enough to meet my weird friends and had some time to explore the island while I was in school. My personal favorite moment was the first night I got to spend with them. We went to dinner in Porto Cupecoy at a little french restaurant on the water. The waitress, a very French woman took our order and then came back for wine. My grandpa had ordered lamb and wanted a white wine like a true American (I'm with him, drink what you like not what the French say) but the waitress could literally not comprehend this. We spent about 10 minutes as a table going back and forth with her about which wines we wanted because of course it wasn't clear amongst us either. Eventually, she conceded and let us get the white despite the red meat. I'm pretty sure we've been black listed from France, though. I'd also like you to notice how tan I appear in that picture. I actually look like I live on an island and not in a library! To be fair, it was weird lighting. Don't worry, I am indeed still very pale. 

 Random highlights from the month: Lola on a less shitty day (bah dun dun), some friends getting ready for Maho and entertaining an entire bar by being the youngest and only people dancing inside of a circle of middle aged creepers. And a frog. I hate frogs. But this frog appeared to be planning something and I couldn't overlook that.


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