New Year's Eve Ramblings.....

Hilltop view of north end of base

It’s hard to believe how long we’ve been on GTMO -- almost four months for Vince and three for me. I thought would take up some screen space to sum up some of our experiences so far.

When we decided to take on this adventure that was offered to us, we certainly had some mixed feelings -- while Vince had been in the Air Force years ago, I had absolutely no exposure to military life. I have never lived by an ocean, and humidity is not my favorite eight letter word. Having said that, the positives described to us certainly seemed to outweigh any potential negatives -- housing and utilities are provided and paid for, amenities abound on the base, and no worries about driving on ice during the winter.

As so often happens in life, the things you worry about in advance almost never seem to materialize, while the events that you never dreamed of turn into enormous potholes in your personal road.

So, here is my list of surprises in the past few months:

I love the ocean!

This was not on my “expected” list at all. First of all, just the crystal clear, blue beauty and majesty of it is so exhilarating. When waves start breaking in on the shore, the sound is thundering and it makes me feel very small indeed.











Snorkeling is amazing!

I had to get over putting my face under the water and not holding my breath (use the breathing tube, silly!), but after that, it’s magical to be floating on top of the water and view a world that we don’t routinely get to see. Our neighbor, Bob, told me that he and some friends saw four sea turtles today, and he was able to get close enough to pat one!

Not much shopping available, but you can still find tabloids

Shopping, as most of us know it, is non-existent. I have learned to be philosophical about not having what I want or need readily available. Whether it’s grocery shopping (one store only), clothes (only one store), or cosmetic items (still only one store), it’s slim pickin’s, let me tell you.



Communication here on the base is almost never clear or easy and most things happen at a very slow pace.

So many governmental entities operate here and overlap abounds. You may have to phone four different people to ever get confirmation on anything. Even then, you can’t be sure of what you are being told. We have both become proficient at the GTMO shrug. (Photo at left shows the typical conflicting info - restricted area but beach is open.)


Hot weather is not that bad. (I know it may sound cruel to write this as so many of our family and friends are battling cold weather!) We went to our first movie here last night -- there is an outdoor theater with small stadium-style seats and movies are shown every night of the year for free. It was 68 degrees last night, and by golly, that was starting to feel a little chilly to me.

Friendly people here abound but everyone keeps track of you closely. You can’t do much around here without all of your neighborhood knowing and reporting it to someone -- and just like everywhere, you can count on information not being passed on accurately. We’ve been invited to three different New Year’s eve celebrations and we either have to go to all of them, or none of them. Without going into more details, Peyton Place has a new rival due to rumors flying fast and furious.

No one wants to take responsibility for the bathroom repair at the ferry landing.

Working for three different entities at once is insane. When Vince accepted this job, he had no idea of the layers of hierarchy that would be involved. The Navy in its wisdom years ago began contracting out many of the jobs formerly handled by its own personnel. Burns & Roe is just one of these subcontractors with a 40+year presence here at GTMO. Its 1,100 employees handle all sorts of indoor and outdoor maintenance tasks for all of the housing, run the desalinization plant along with electrical lighting, trash pickup and disposal, etc. Then, B&R subcontracts out certain jobs to other companies, such as Midwest ATC, who is Vince’s employer. Consequently, at any time, VInce may need to either get approval or communicate with multiple personnel connected with Midwest....B&R....and/or the Navy. He could write a book himself on some of the nonsensical hoops he has encountered so far.

We miss our family and friends....a lot. I had no idea just how difficult it would be to live so far away. While we have met a bazillion new friendly folks, we so miss all of the dear, familiar faces (this includes you, Reader!) that we took for granted seeing in our daily life.

And, as for 2009 that is just around the corner, I’m not a big fan of resolutions because I usually break them the first week. But, I’ve been trying to learn to be content in all things.....so for now, I need to be content with where we are, what we are doing, and just try to make the most of whatever comes our way.

"Be careful what you ask for.....

.....You might just get it." We’ve all heard that a million times. And this year, it happened to us. More than once I have said, “one of these days I would LOVE to be far away from home during the holidays and have a completely different Christmas.” Guess what -- we are far away from home and we will have a completely different Christmas.

Consequently, we’ve been trying to play up those differences. For our Christmas tree, Vince found a small (dead) mangrove tree that looks like a big piece of driftwood and we have it perched on a table, festooned with mini colored lights and ribbon purchased at the thrift store. It sits like a sentinel in the corner of our living room.

(I had to chuckle to myself during a recent tour here of homes that were expertly decorated for Christmas. Our neighbor, Carolyn, had her house featured. Her spare bedroom is exclusively devoted just to housing all of her holiday ornaments.

All in all, she has five Christmas trees in her home, and every room is bedecked from stem to stern with decorations and ornaments. I wish she could see our contribution to holiday decorating -- she would probably faint.)

One of the many streetlight decorations lining Sherman Avenue

The airport is closing early on Christmas Eve, so hopefully Vince will be home in time for us to attend the Christmas eve service at the chapel. We’ve been attending the “Protestant” service on Sundays (that is what the service is called -- there are about a dozen different types of church services conducted on the base).

Instead of cooking a huge meal for about 20 people on Christmas day, we’ll join some other folks at the galley mess hall and take advantage of someone else cooking a ten course meal. And of course, one of the things I MEANT to include in my statement about being away from home at Christmas was that I wanted family with us. It will be very strange to not be surrounded by people we love at our holiday table.

Obviously, there are many families separated at the holidays for one reason or another. And, we are not looking for sympathy -- we are here of our own free will. If nothing else, our circumstances are helping me to really think about the meaning of Christmas.

Besides celebrating the birth of Jesus, we have this amazing opportunity to show the love of Jesus in our actions. And, we can certainly do that wherever we are.

Medical Report

Vince’s blood pressure is finally back to where it is supposed to be, and his sciatica is 98% gone -- we are very grateful for this! He has been faithfully doing his back exercises and also has been altering his diet, along with taking his meds. So, thank you to those of you who have included him in your prayers for restoration of good health.

Fergus is another story. He’s been here for over six weeks now, and really has shown no outwardly negative signs in adjusting to the tropics. However, a couple of weeks ago, he started frantically scratching, mostly in his hindquarters.

Day and night, he has been scratching.......
!

After a few days of this, Vince took him to the vet and the diagnosis was “food allergy.” It really can’t be that since we feed him exactly what he eats at home. And, we have ruled out fleas or other insects. But the vet did give us an antihistamine for some short term relief. Since we only have a couple more weeks of this medication, Fergus may be on Benadryl later down the road.

After talking to a couple of other people here, we think it’s more likely a reaction to “coral dust” which is prevalent since coral lies right underneath all of the dirt here.

Everywhere you walk, you see coral peeking out from the dirt. (I'll post more photos of some amazing coral outcroppings later in my geology post.) This is a photo of what looks like bare ground, but is actually big and small pieces of coral.

Evidently it’s well known here that many dogs have adverse reactions to the dust (we don't know why the vet didn't mention it?) So, we’ve been trying to not leave Fergus outside for long periods of time which is too bad, because he LOVES just to sit out in the backyard, even when it’s hot (silly dog!) And, I’ve been trying to wash off his feet when he comes in the house after being outside, which is about 10 times day!

We will likely try to bathe him a couple of times a month and see if that helps -- and here is Fergus, fresh from his bath, scratch-free for a few moments.

GTMO's Usefulness

CG "HU25" Falcon

Why is Guantanamo Bay Naval Base necessary? Most folks probably do not know what the base means to the Caribbean islands or the U.S. All most folks know is what they read in the papers or hear from the self important blabbering heads on TV. The base has been here since about 1903 and started out as a coaling station for the steam powered ships of the time. Today it is still a useful supply depot for the Navy as well as vessels of other nations but few people would know that since the news is all about detainees and prison camps and military trials. I stumbled onto one web site called closegitmo.com that was sponsored by the ACLU or "World Civil Liberties Union" as they might be called since they are so upset about foreign combatants being detained on foreign soil. By the way, prisoners of war and enemy combatants have been detained like this through centuries of war but our "enlightened" generation is either ignorant of history or think legal precedence is irrelevant.

CG Cutter at GTMO pier

The busiest folks I see here are the members of the US Coast Guard. I estimate that about 8 of every 10 ships entering the bay are Coast Guard. I had no idea how far from our nation's shores the Coast Guard operated. Their presence in the Caribbean is huge. Even well into South American waters. About half of the air traffic transiting GTMO on some days are Coast Guard cargo planes, search planes and rescue helicopters. The Coast Guard is tasked with interdicting drug runners, helping to police international fishing treaties, inspecting vessels for sea worthiness, rescuing folks of every nationality who are in trouble at sea, maintaining navigational aids and markers wherever US interests dictate and providing security in many many ports. Those are just the tasks I am aware of.

CG "H65" is carried on the stern of cutters.

It is not unusual to see a CG copter coming into the GTMO hospital with a sick Filipino sailor off of a Liberian ship for example. The CG aircraft fly endless hours of low level searches day and night using sophisticated devices looking for drug runners and other vermin such as pirates. Yes, piracy is still a big problem around the world. They work closely with other nations navies or law enforcement agencies.

Recently a British warship, the "Wave Ruler," was in the bay for replenishment and crew liberty. The "Wave Ruler" has a website:
http://www.royalnavy.mod.uk/server/show/nav.00h00100500800a004. The Brits are busy in the Caribbean interdicting drugs and the Wave Ruler has had some good success.

Viper boat.
Packs 1 50 cal. machine gun and 2 smaller ones.

Then GTMO is an important stop for US Customs aircraft, DEA aircraft and many other alphabet agencies and military service branches. Oddly enough the fewest planes of any branch of the military we see are Navy planes.

DEA (Drug Enforcement Agency) Confiscation

 

I am told that this little yacht was suspicious because they were "trolling" with fishing lines out at about 30 knots. Now it is property of the US Government and is docked near the base post office.

Bird Watching

I think vultures really get a bad rap -- striking in both size and appearance, they are interesting to watch as they spread their 6 ft. wingspan in the morning sun.


And, they are EVERYWHERE here -- not sure what it is about Cuba, but apparently vultures really feel at home here.

I believe they are particularly attracted to the hutia (or banana rat) population.

Since Vince and I are nature geeks (we are interested in birds, fish, rocks, shells, trees, etc., so we will be commenting on all of these and more in this blog), we have really enjoyed capturing on film the various species here at GTMO.

Especially the ones that can really only be seen in Cuba or the West Indies.



For example, the Cuban grassquit is below. (Sorry about the screen interference.) These cute little birds with the bright yellow collar are under 5 inches in length. They love to sip at the hummingbird feeder.


And, the Cuban emerald hummingbirds are here year-round. We can watch them at our front window all day long. Even if we go outside right next to the feeder, they aren't too worried about our presence. You can hear the "hum" of their wings very clearly as they swoop around the feeder. One particular species, the bee hummingbird, is native to Cuba and is the smallest bird in the world -- only about 2 inches in length. Haven't seen it yet, but we're keeping our eyes open for that one.



Snowy egrets can be seen just walking along the roadside.



And this West Indian woodpecker loves to attach himself to the front of our villa -- probably because the windows have a reflective coating on them.


Besides the bee hummingbird, I'm on the lookout for: a flamingo, a parrot, and a Cuban tody -- a small, multi-colored bird. I think I'll keep my camera handy!

Cookie Break!

I know this isn't a cooking blog, but....we ARE trying to describe our activities, and one of the things I am doing is baking. So, today, it's "Almost Oreo's." This recipe is courtesy of http://smittenkitchen.com/

Erin found this website and recommended it to me, and we both decided to try the Oreo recipe. Well, let me tell you -- these cookies are GOOD! Better have a glass of milk handy and then be prepared to make another batch, because they don't last long.

Now, to counterbalance the Oreo's, I will need to do another session of Pilates this week and then come up with something to make with the eggplant I have in the fridge.

Artifact Repository

Not a term you hear every day, is it? “Museum” is apparently a legal term that may not be used here at GTMO -- instead, an “artifact repository” is the allowable descriptor according to the Navy. Whatever you want to call it, the contents of the building and grounds are quite interesting.

First of all, the 60 feet high lighthouse was built in 1904 by the Coast Guard (a branch of the military that often gets overlooked for their contributions). The lamp itself originally burned whale oil (where did they get that?), and two lightkeepers lived in the adjoining house, sharing a 24 hour responsibility to keep the light burning. In 1955, an electric light was installed with the original lens and prisms now on display in the Coast Guard museum in Connecticut. Unfortunately, the lighthouse is no longer used, and is sadly in need of repair.

One of the houses used for lodging now displays memorabilia. Here sits the only traffic light in GTMO -- this was removed from Sherman Avenue in 1989 and now is just an exhibit. And there are numerous old photographs going back to the Spanish American War in 1898.

The most moving exhibit to me was the collection of boats in the yard surrounding the museum (I don’t care what anyone says -- I’m calling it a museum!)

Beginning in 1991 through 1994, these battered and leaky vessels were some of the boats which helped to transport over 45,000 Haitians and Cubans who were fleeing their countries.

GTMO had the responsibility of housing these refugees in 1994 and I can’t even begin to imagine the tent city that was quickly erected to accommodate these people.



Upon close examination, the boats were caulked with ripped up t-shirts, rugs, cardboard, and even palm fronds.

I had remembered hearing the term “boat people” but seeing these wrecks up close was quite sobering.







Here is a photo that I took from a magazine just to give you an idea of how many people might have been crammed in one boat. And, according to what I have learned, this boat is not as fully loaded as most of them were.



One of the boats was actually a dugout -- I cannot begin to imagine crossing the ocean in one of these. I get nervous on the big ferry when it crosses the bay, and there is a little rocking motion from the waves.....what it would be like to be out in the middle of nowhere in the Caribbean, in a tiny boat, especially during an inky black night during a storm? I shudder to think about it.

This just illustrates the desperation of the refugees trying to escape the horrific conditions in their countries.

We have so much to be thankful for when we live in a country that grants us so many freedoms. Even being on a restricted and isolated military base is a thousand times better than what many other people in the world have to endure.

Pilates....please!

Since I couldn’t be in Tulsa to help my sister celebrate her recent birthday, instead I chose to go to my first Pilates class. (Hindsight tells me it would have been much more enjoyable in Tulsa.) I have already been participating in a three-times-a-week water aerobics class which I enjoy, but I just felt I needed a little more challenge. My friend, Hope, and I had recently gone to the Marine Hill Gym and looked at the bulletin board for fitness class listings. We spied a Pilates class that met twice a week, and I started writing down the information.

An extremely fit (or to be more exact, very muscularly sculpted) young Jamaican man named Everton asked if we needed any assistance. We told him we were interested in the Pilates class, and Everton indicated that he was the instructor. We chatted with him for a minute about the class and decided to try it the next day.

As we left the gym, Hope brightly smiled and told an older Jamaican gentleman standing by the door that we were going to end up looking like 20 year-olds. He sadly smiled and while shaking his head negatively, said, “No, ma’am. Maybe 30 year-olds.” Truth hurts.

And so does Pilates. We showed up the next day, all excited and ready to go. Besides us, there were three young (under 30) women who looked like they had done Pilates all their lives. We were instructed to get a mat, a weighted bar and the ring of torture (a flexible 12 inch circular tube with padding on it).

The ring of torture is either positioned between the knees, or even worse, the ankles, and one is supposed to press inward while the ring is in place. The trick is to KEEP the ring in place while you are pressing. And, while you are holding a heavily weighted bar over your head. And while your legs are jacknifed in some unnatural position. And, you do all of this 20 times in rapid succession. While you are practicing controlled breathing.

Everton -- rumor has it that he was “Mr. Jamaica” -- also has the tendency to instruct like a drill sergeant. And, of course, during the course of a week he does lead classes for the Marines. “Breathe in through the mouth - out through the nose,” chanted Everton continually, flashing his very white teeth.

After one hour, Hope and I weren’t sure we could get up off of our mats. When we put our bars away, one of the sweet young things in the class told me “you might want to select one of the lighter bars next time.” So nice to tell me AFTER the class.

Here is Everton along with two of our classmates.

Northeast Gate Tour

Once a month, the Marines host a tour of the Northeast Gate which is the only legal crossing point between GTMO and Cuba.** We decided to take advantage of this tour along with about 50 other folks, filling two buses. Prior to the tour getting underway, we watched the morning "Call to Colors" in which the American flag is raised while the national anthem is played over loudspeakers.

The 15 minute drive to the Northeast Gate crosses salt flats once filled with over 50,000 land mines which have mostly been removed.

During the early 1950’s over 4,000 Cubans came through the gate to work on the base. However, with the Cuban revolution in 1959, things changed -- the U.S. banned entrance into Cuba and Castro cut off the labor supply of Cubans to the base.

Presently, just three Cuban men, all in their 80’s, arrive on the Cuban side at 6:00 a.m. daily, walk across, and work on the base. “Work” is loosely defined -- their main task is carrying retirement checks back across the border to those Cubans no longer working on the base.







This sign on the Cuban side of the gate may be translated two different ways:

"The Republic of Cuba - Free Country of America" or "The Republic of Cuba - Country Free of America."








In 1964, the Cuban government ordered the water supply to the base be cut off. This was in retaliation to the arrest of 36 Cubans who were found fishing illegally in Florida waters. When the water cut-off occurred, there were about 14 millions gallons of water in storage on the base. Strict rationing was initiated.

When accusations were made by the Cuban government that the base was stealing water from Cuba, the admiral at that time ordered that sections of water pipe be cut and permanently removed to disprove the allegation. (This is a photo of where the section of pipe was cut and removed.) To help the base become as self-sufficient as possible, a huge desalinization plant was dismantled in California and transported to GTMO. In six short months, the plant was de-constructed, transported, re-constructed, and operational on the base.





Our understanding is that a respectful relationship is currently in place between the Marine sentries and the Cuban guards throughout the 17 miles of existing fence line.

Opposite is a photo of a Cuban sentry outpost. You can see two guards, one who is looking at us through binoculars.

We have been informed that preparations are being made for the day that normalized relations resume between the U.S. and Cuba. It is expected at that time over 50,000 Cubans will cross the gate into the base.


**Approximately six to ten Cubans attempt a water crossing from Cuba to Florida every month. And about four to six Cubans try either by land or by water to get into the base.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Hope you all have a wonderful holiday! While we will be missing all of our family and friends at the table tomorrow, both Vince and I feel that we are richly blessed and highly favored. Enjoy your day!

Banana Rats and Bingo

The other morning I finally spotted a banana rat or hutia (hoo-TEE-uh) while I was walking Fergus. Hutia is the more politically correct term, while some folks just like the sound of “banana rat” which was definitely more alliterative in my title.

Hutias are moderately large rodents that inhabit the Caribbean islands. They can range in size from 8 inches to 2 feet long, and can weigh up to 15 pounds. They are mostly seen at night, and instead of burrowing in the ground, they use trees for their nests. Hutias, along with iguanas, are hunted for food in Cuba. Banana rats are given their name because their feces look like small versions of the fruit.

Anyway, I was excited to see one (the banana rat, that is) and he held nice and still for me while I took a few photos.

The other highlight of the same day was my first ever public bingo game. (No, I am not a closet bingo player -- the last time I played it was in elementary school.)

My friend, Hope, and I were lured to bingo night at the Windjammer by the $5,000 grand prize. Somebody has to win this and why couldn’t it be one of us? We both had this vision of going into a room with lots of old people casually marking their cards as numbers were called out.

But, no, we were likely the oldest players there (and just about the only Americans), and let me tell you, bingo has changed in the last....ahem....50 years. (I can’t believe I wrote that.) First, we had to fill out a form, declaring we would adhere to all the bingo rules and mark how many cards we wanted to purchase. What made the process more challenging was that a very nice young Jamaican man was trying to explain to us what we needed to do. We couldn’t understand anything he said -- we just nodded our heads politely and tried to look as if we understood.

The one thing I got from him was: “look at da monitor” and I had no idea what he was talking about. Anyway, we took our bingo sheets, our bingo markers, and found a table with some other folks who could speak English. Unfortunately, it was also their first night to play, so we wouldn’t get much help from them.

When it was time for us to start playing, we finally figured out what “look at da monitor” meant -- there was TV screens scattered around the gymnasium-sized room. The person selecting a ball with a number on it would first hold the ball in front of the camera connected to the monitors. So, you would see the number on the monitor BEFORE it was called out. (Maybe all of you already know all of this because you are seasoned bingo players. Sadly, I had to learn the hard way.) As soon as you saw the number, you were supposed to check your bingo sheets. Then, a few seconds later he could call out the number, but he was already holding the next number up to the camera. So, you would see one number, and hear another. This was most confusing to me.

Besides this, as I next learned, playing bingo isn’t a nice, relaxing game that involves getting five numbers in a row. No, it is much more complicated than that. As we started playing our first game, in our about five minutes I had actually had a line in which five in a row were nicely colored. I whispered to Hope, “I have a bingo -- what should I do?” She looked at me as if I were an idiot, and said, “Yell bingo, of course.”

So....I did. Yell. “Bingo!” And, the whole room got very quiet and everyone looked at me with appalled expressions and started hissing quite loudly something like: “NO NO NO....blackout.....NOOOOOO....”

This was not the result I expected and some bingo employees came running to our table. A very kind Filipino gentleman explained that it was a “blackout” game meaning all the numbers on a card had to blacked out before one could expect to pronounce a bingo.

Bingo suddenly didn’t seem quite so entertaining. At least, it wasn’t to me -- it was to everyone else in the room, however. So, the game resumed and I very quietly continued to mark my card, and thank goodness, somebody else won. (I was terrified that I would legally win and have to say the dreaded “bingo” again.)

After the blackout game, eight different games followed with each one having a different pattern to achieve on the bingo card. Arrows, diamonds, little brown jugs (not kidding) -- you had to achieve a different pattern for each game before you could declare bingo.

Every so often one of the bingo employees would casually stroll by our table and examine my card to see how I was doing. They kept a really close eye on me the rest of the night.

I was determined to not win -- and I didn’t.

(Hope is smiling because she wasn't the one to yell bingo at the wrong time.)

A Different World

Alas! I tried for two days to upload a brief (under 3 min.) video giving a birds-eye tour of the base, and the bandwidth is such here that I just am unable to get the video uploaded. So....here is the next best way to give you an idea of what the base is like.

Above is a map sold here on the base, and I have some markers for various points of interest.

The marker #1 on the left side of the bay - that is Leeward Air Field where Vince works. I've already mentioned that he needs to take either a ferry or u-boat (utility) to get to work -- it's about a 20 minutes ride across the bay.

On the right side, or windward side, is where most of the housing and services are located. At the bottom of the map, the marker #2 shows the beginning of our main street, Sherman Avenue, which goes north for about 6 miles. (The northernmost section of the map is the perimeter fence line - this is the boundary line, so to speak between the base and Cuba. I will have a later blog entry on our visit to the northeast gate.)

Most of our available services are located around marker #3. As far as amenities here, the Navy has really tried to make life as enjoyable as possible for those who can't leave the base (which describes most of us). Here is a short list:

• Movie theater - free, first-run movies every night of the week, in an outdoor setting
• Bowling alley
• Miniature golf
• Golf course - no charge to use
• Library
• Ceramics/pottery/wood shop - very reasonable prices
• Bingo - more on this later!
• Bike and boat rentals - (pontoons rent for $6 an hour)
• Two outdoor swimming pools - free
• Fitness classes - free
• Gyms with exercise equipment - free
• Dog exercise/training area
• Car wash - free
• One gas station (Note - we are still paying $4.50/gal. for gasoline -- the Navy buys fuel in contract periods, and we will continue to pay this price until all the gasoline is used and a new contract is procured.)

As far as restaurants go, not much selection is available -- a couple of sit-down places, some fast-food (McDonald's, Subway, Pizza Hut, KFC), and both a Jamaican and a Cuban eatery that are somewhat average. The Jamaican "Jerk House" is a carry-out place with a limited menu -- it has some strong competition from some Jamaicans that operate a small grill at the airport, and their food is excellent. The photo below shows the Jamaican chef at the airport.

The "Cuban Club" reportedly has a Cuban cook, but it seems to me that the food has been somewhat Americanized, and you might want to bring a pillow and blanket when you go there, because it is a VERY long wait for a simple meal (over an hour). The mess hall galleys (three on the base) are the best value for the money, since lunch and dinners, cafeteria-style, are $3.85 and are generally pretty good.




The only place to purchase food, clothes, hardware, electronics., etc., is the Nex, or Navy Exchange, (pictured at right) which is like a very small Super Wal-Mart. The prices are fairly comparable to back home -- no real bargains, except there is no sales tax. The Nex has certainly changed how I view shopping. Back home, I would go to three grocery stores to get everything on my list. Now, my list is comprised of whatever I can get at one store, and it really is a time-saver. You quickly learn to either do without, or just adjust your list.

The marker #4 shows where we live - Granadillo Point. There are 34 housing units just in our small neighborhood, and it's very much like a small town -- everyone knows everyone else's business. And, that is certainly not necessarily a negative. Just something for us to keep in mind!

There are about 20 different "neighborhoods" of housing on the base, and each one contains different types of abodes - single-family dwellings, apartments, duplexes, trailers, and four-plexes.


The feeling one gets here is truly of an American small town -- lots of friendly people, everybody waves at you, folks are willing to help you out. What is not so typical is the prevalence of Humvees loaded with weapons, soldiers and sailors everywhere you look, and lots of rules to follow (what the heck, there are rules no matter where you go). I certainly don't feel like I am in a foreign country -- the only exception is the huge population of folks from Jamaica, Phillipines and Puerto Rico who work here and send their wages back home. Most of them speak English, or a form of it, so there is usually not a language barrier, unless you are speaking on the phone, and then it can be problematic to understand what is being said.

There you have it -- sorry this is lengthy -- in my video that couldn't be uploaded, you would have been able to hear most of this instead of wading your way through a long entry.

A Fish Story

You simply cannot buy fresh fish here -- this just amazes me. Here we are, in a beautiful bay, right next to the ocean and the only way you can get fresh fish is (1) catch it yourself or (2) see Ramon. I've talked to a number of people here about acquiring fish and everyone says the same thing -- find Ramon and he will catch some for you.

Well, we haven't found Ramon yet (he likely hangs out with Captain Henry), but I was whining to a friend recently that I have been here six whole weeks and no fresh fish has yet appeared on my table. (And I will have to quickly add that Vince would love to go fishing but his schedule just hasn't allowed it recently) Over the weekend, the friend's husband called me to say that he had "shot" two fish for me. And, when he says shot, he means with a speargun. Both he and his wife are experienced scuba divers, and they routinely fish in this manner.

Our neighbor, Bob (not to be confused with his dog, who is also named Bob), was kind enough to filet the fish for us, since at the time Vince was at work.

One fish was a "cubera snapper" and the other is called a "permit" which was a new name to me. I was expecting something like the little trout you see in the grocery store, but these fish were both huge, and the snapper had teeth -- Vince says that is why it's called a snapper. Hmm....sounds logical to me. (That is Bob holding the snapper on the left.)




Here is the lovely permit. And, I will let you in on Bob's secret to fish photography -- hold the fish as far in front of you as you can. Makes any old fish look impressive. Although, these fish didn't need airbrushing techniques to improve their appearance -- they were both good-sized.

Sunday night we had two other couples join us for our fish feast -- I baked the snapper with onions, lemon slices, cherry tomatoes and some herbs, and a friend grilled the permit for us. (Vince was unable to stand yet due to his sciatica attack.) Well, let me tell you that the fish was fantastic -- especially the permit, which as strange as it sounds, tasted like chicken. No kidding.

Sunday morning

Sometimes a day just does not start as planned -- this morning, instead of Vince going to work, I had to take him to the emergency room at the hospital. As you can see in the photo, he is smiling and he is okay. But, he had a painful night -- due to sciatica which was the diagnosis.

Last night at work, there was an incoming plane that was several hours late, and consequently, there were over 150 people jammed on the utility boat coming back to this side of the bay. Vince was one of those 150 folks packed like sardines in the boat, and the doctor theorizes that the way he was sitting (hunched and a little crooked) along with what he was sitting on (a low bench) AND what he had in his back pocket (his wallet) all contributed to pinching the sciatic nerve.

Apparently sciatica is common among truckdrivers and they are advised to carry their wallets in their front pockets instead of their back pockets. (Who would have guessed this?)

The doctor asked Vince's permission to make the visit a "teaching" opportunity, so three young male medics came in to the examining area. I was able to sit there and observe the 30 minute session during which the doctor thoroughly poked and prodded Vince, all the while asking questions of his students. ("What are some of the questions you need to ask an incoming patient? What are the first three things you might look for?," etc.) I was wondering how far they were in their training, because some of the questions prompted me to almost raise my hand and say "I know! I know!" Thankfully, I held back and just kept my mouth shut.

Vince was given a prescription and released after three long hours. We were thankful that it wasn't something worse (the first official hospital patients at GTMO in the late 1800's were treated for yellow fever.) And, as I am writing this, Toto the Filipino physical therapist (I swear I am not making this up) made a house call and is giving Vince a therapeutic massage to help relax the nerve.

Never say never

If anyone had told me a couple of months ago that I would be buying (and wearing) a blouse from a thrift store with toucans on it, I would have told them they were nuts.