Dear Readers,
Everyone I know is getting ready to exit the island. All non-residents return home to spend Christmas for good old cold weather, snow, ice, and pudding. Of all the times I want to be home, Christmas and the cold is not one of them. I'd rather stay and keep up my tan. But alas I have been given another economy ticket to sit for 36 hours while Steve enjoys business class out front. You see, Invista is cheap. But I can't complain. We have a job. Things are hard in the Shenandoah Valley. If they finish closing the plant, then we will have to move anyway.
Out in the jungle amidst the mosquitoes and tree vipers is a cooking school. It is located on Dempsey Hill in an old army barracks of the British. The government sold the crumbling buildings to the public and they became restaurants, playschools, and dancing schools. I signed up for a day of "Christmas Cooking." It was more like Thanksgiving. The teacher was british and so were most of the other people. Two were Muslim maids sent by their employer. Unfortunately they couldn't touch the turkey which were stuffed with pork sausage. There were plenty of roasted potatoes, parsnips, and brussel sprouts for all, though, and I was surprised how many people hate brussel sprouts. My favorite thing was the ice cream cake. I will have to try that! We did three turkeys three different ways! Chestnuts were everywhere.
I returned to Dempsey Hill to catch a bus for the "holiday tour" that hauled us around to see four decorated houses in the area. The first house was owned by a French designer. Everything was brown, black, and white. No windows-just open to the air. I guess she doesn't know about the mosquitoes, dengue fever, and malaria. Several of the ladies had fresh bites on their backs. The only Christmas decorating I saw was the lame wire sticking out of a bucket twisted in the form of a branch. Glass things hung on it. I guess I am not hip. The next house was an apartment on an historic street. Small, strangly cut up, and again the only decorations I saw where three ornaments on top of a table. No tree, no red and green. Someone should have told the committee that Buddhists don't celebrate Christmas. Next we went to White and Black House. These are the houses saved by the government and were the orignally houses of the British elite. Now they were cool! Pools, marble floors, Christmas trees with angels and color, airplane wing desk (really, a airplane wing!) and lots of greenery and wreaths. The final house was a mansion with great paintings-both abstract and traditional. Statues of Buddha were everywhere as well as Christmas decorations. One room was a Buddhist shrine. So I don't know what that was all about-the family seemed a bit confused on where they stand. The maid was highly thanked for all her hard work setting it all up for the tour. You see, these people only supervise the work. They don't actually DO IT.
Well no maid is going to do my Christmas decorating. In fact, I'm not sure I'll get around to it during the short time I am home. No sooner does it go up then I have to pack it up and leave for the land of hot sun. Well, all this touring has allowed me to meet new people, a New Zealander named Donna, and others and eat more shrimp with eyes. Tomorrow, it's retail therapy where I travel around with the same people looking at textiles, furniture, and other stuff. Saturday I ride a bus to see all the Christmas lights on the island. Never a dull moment.
Pictures I have tacked on are Christmas lights, Steve and I having Thanksgiving with our friends Tammy and Greg, and me eating snails at a German restaurant. Luckily the eyes were missing.
See you at home! Donna.
