8 posts tagged “barbados”
At Bert's Bar in Barbados, owned by Eugene Melnyk. There is a large contingent of Canadians in Barbados, so the lot of them can be seen at Bert's cheering on Ottawa. We can even buy a Ottawa Sens jersey in the shop at the front of the bar! The chairs in front of the sign are made out of hockey sticks too.
Creative endeavors usually fall into three categories: (i) something you have to do (i.e. job), (ii) something you want to do (i.e. hobby, or job), or (iii) shit that just presents itself to you as you navigate the usual obstacles in everyday life (i.e. state of mind). People used to (i) or (ii) are more receptive to (iii), but those used to (iii) usually can't remember the last time they weren't high, or where they put the damn cookie dough. I usually straddle between these two extremes, as C is never tired of saying "Does it hurt to sometimes be you?" whenever my brain decides to go all lucid on my ass. So it was with great pleasure that I stumbled on the "Barbados Landship", a funny little dance performed by Bajans dressed up as British naval officers:
What struck me at first wasn't its silliness, however, it was the music led by what is known in these parts as a "Tuk Band" -- a troupe with a flute (or sax), snare and bass drums, and a triangle. It was infectious - a bit military but also fast and rhythmic. The rest of the Caribbean thinks this "traditional" Bajan dance extremely entertaining, entertaining only because the dancers and organization take themselves a little too seriously for a dance that is essentially a satire of all things British and military. But good satire usually takes itself seriously, and I can't help but wonder about the creative insight the founder had about this "Landship" -- most certainly a (iii).
Now, the official story behind the Landship is that it was created by a former officer of the British Navy, a Bajan no-less, who wanted to recreate (usually read "mimic") the comraderie of military life. Most scholars are skeptical about this, arguing that it was a 'creolization' - a mixture of two very different cultures to create something novel. The problem with this politicized reading is that it takes all the fun out of the spectacle.
And tonight, the Barbados Museum will honour the Landship with the launching of a heritage project: a book on the melodies of the penny whistle, a video documentary (available on Google Video), and a website (designed by yours truly).
I'll post more pictures of the event by the end of the week.
We saw this awesome sign on H7 close to Bridgetown. C says it gives a whole new meaning to the cricket term "sticky wicket"!
So there I was hoping to get support for a work visa in J's office when he throws down: he wants to pay me US$700 a month (yes, that is seven hundred dollars) because I don't yet have an intimate working knowledge of his system. Not only that, he says I'm not an expert yet in Delphi and that if he were to pay me a livable wage, he would be paying for my training. I'm not an employee he continues, and neither am I a contractor. Oh, but if I want a contract, I'll have to write it up myself and tell him what I can offer his company. And nope, no support for a work visa either, because then he'd have to actually pay me. He'd rather pay well for someone local because what if I have to leave the country? The message: fuck you you tourist!
In that exchange, there is much that reveals the peculiarities of Barbados' attitude toward technology, skills and management. So let's begin:
- My lack of knowledge of the system. Seriously. Like EA, Google or Microsoft candidates know the intimate details of their systems and are paid any less than their salary because they are on probation. If they don't make the cut in 2 weeks or 3 months or whatever, then bye bye. In our discussions he went on to say that if he were to pay me more, then he'd be paying for my training. No shit sherlock. I'll learn the damn thing if I have a goal feature. Trouble is, he doesn't know what he wants and, as owner of the company, wants to monitor my progress because he used to be a "programmer"; he knows what's what. You used to be a programmer you say? Can you say "micromanager"? Ex-geeks are the worst managers most of the time.
- My lack of knowledge of Delphi. Um. Most programmers in the world know how to program, not how to program in some language. This aspect surprised me. I had told him my strongest language is C++, and he then proceeded to try to impress me with some Borland C++ 4.0 compiler (seriously!) he bought from eBay. In the one-week I worked (for free) with him (on probation), I had done my little module in Delphi, his language of choice. When he discovered that I had done so, he was surprised. He expected me to link up my C++ program to his Delphi system as if learning a new language just isn't done. How baroque! And he likes to say he used to be a "programmer"! True, I haven't yet learned how to create threads in Delphi, but neither do his other programmers.
- I have to write my own contract. Why? So he can cover his ass because he doesn't know what he wants. "You have to write your own contract so you can show me what services you offer that will benefit this company," he says in a belligerent tone. No buddy. That's not how it's done. I didn't come knocking on your door trying to sell you encyclopedias or drugs. You put an ad in the paper. This is your company and we negotiate a contract together for services you want. I'm just a developer, I'm not a consultant. I've laid out my skills in detail on my resume and in person and you spent three hours in our initial interview talking about the lack of talent in the country and would I be interested in implementing a 3D-engine for him in 6 months for $700US a month? If I don't have skills you want or you're too obtuse or greedy to see where they can be used (practically!) in your company, then don't waste my time and I won't waste yours. Tech jobs are thin here, I admit, but I ain't that desperate. I ain't greedy either; after all I left an excellent, well-paying job to be with C and to expand my repertoire of skills, so getting paid a competitive salary isn't my priority. I'm just not that stupid.
- I am not Bajan so I might leave him in the lurch. Again, that's not how it's done. We agree on a contract. I'll stay in Barbados to finish it if I have a work-visa. If I don't deliver in the time specified, then no money or take me to court.
Given all this, I give up on him and finding a developer job here. I'll stick to developing, consulting and teaching for a community centre, where while not prestigious, the job is nonetheless fulfilling.
On Friday, C and I went up to the "Scotland District" of Barbados for one of her yoga lessons, and we agree that the east coast is our favorite side of the island. It is here where Barbados first rose from the Atlantic a few million years ago, so the greenery is much much older as well as more lush, jungle-like. It is also very "hilly", especially on the east coast due to the erosional cliff formed by the turbulent Atlantic in the island's formative (i.e. tectonic uplifting) stages. Below are a few pictures of some of this erosional cliff from the east coast in Cattlewash.
It is called the "Scotland District" because poor white labourers and slaves (i.e. mostly Scottish, Irish, English) lived here after Barbados was settled in 1600's by the English. Before that time, the island was uninhabited in what is considered an anthropological mystery, as the "Caribs" lived here (after driving out the Amerindians) before abandoning it all together and moving west.
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The following are pictures of most of Barbados' east coast looking north, west and finally south. The final pic is one of a sea stack, just a remnant of erosion on what used to be a flooded platform, which rose from the ocean due to more tectonic uplift.
Here is a video of the Atlantic ocean. Most of the east coast of Barbados can be seen here.
Directly east is Africa (Senegal at 3,500 miles). Indeed, Barbados is the closest Caribbean island to Africa, so enslaved Africans usually came to Barbados first during the Atlantic Slave Trade, before being shipped to other islands. This sad history is captured in the bitter-sweet emblem of freedom called the "Emancipation statue", which Bajans refer to as "Bussa" after a slave who helped start a rebellion against slavery in the 1800s:
Today's blog post title comes from a folk song sung on the streets of Barbados after the official end of slavery in 1838:
-----"Lick an Lock-up Done Wid, Hurray fuh Jin-Jin (Queen Victoria).
De Queen come from England to set we free
Now Lick an Lock-up Done Wid, Hurray fuh Jin-Jin "
Next week C and I will be in Guatemala City for a conference on anti-corruption. I will join the "spouse" group who will be trekking around the city during the days. Then C takes a few days off from work and we head up to Tikal to see the Mayan city. Can't wait!
5am Sunday morning. C and I were getting ready to go on a weekly hike within a parish of Barbados. Bajans, tourists and others do this hike every week, discovering little nooks of Barbados you don't see driving around. This past Sunday we went through a part of the St.Thomas parish. We walked through people's backyards, their gardens, their fields, their streets and all were welcoming and wished us well. Try to find that in any "developed" country! Here are some pics:
I also finally found out where the Barbados landfill was, located near the west coast of the island. Barbados is not a hilly island, but St.Thomas was particularly hilly probably due to the gullies that were carved from thousands of years of sheet water coming down from the highest coral rock terrace a few miles north. The island grades downward towards the water from the so-called "Barbados Ridge" (the first part of the island that peeked out of the Atlantic a couple of million years ago), so most roads on a vector to the coast have a great view of either the Caribbean Sea or the Atlantic Ocean. In the picture below, I was looking south towards the Caribbean Sea.
I did meet a Bajan financial advisor who had hiked most of Central America's great mountain ranges, and encouraged me to do the same "while I still had the time". We traded stories: I told her about Vancouver, the mountains there, and how I was volunteering for a local community centre in the "Pine" (i.e. Pinelands, the poor part of Barbados). She told me that most Bajans are Pentacostal than Anglican because Bajans believed the latter hasn't kept up with modernity. She told me of all the development in Barbados for the World Cup of Cricket next year, but also because more Bajans are becoming affluent enough to purchase property. She told me that she never met a Filipino person before, so I was honoured.
We finished the hike at 9am exhausted, and C and I had some snow cones and gorged on some food at what is probably the weirdest (and worst) bar/restaurant in Barbados: Lord Willoughby's Tavern. There was a dress code, and the outside of the building was very "colonial", but when you walked in you were in an utter state of shock. Everything was sooooo incongruent with each other that you couldn't help but gawk: a big marlin in the middle of the dinning hall, football jerseys, tvs, lots of florescent lighting, dank wooded paneling on the floor and the walls, great columns of bubbling water with plastic fishes in them, a matrix of TVs showing India lose to Australia, Smirnoff vodka posters, some American-western style ornaments and numerous plates nailed to the wall with scenes of flowers etched on the inside (these, C told me, where the home decorating "thing" in the 70s). And the usual British tourists were about, oblivious to the obvious affront to the God of Class and Taste. Incongruous!
C: "That's too much. We don't have change, take $6 from the $20."
Leroy:"Why you haffa do that? This job 'ere is me salary, and me make no money otherwise. It be $2 per bag and I pay $23 for me cart alone. That dere is chump change after the man flash a $20."
C: "Are you finished? $2 dollars per bag is $6, so here's $6. We don't have to give you anything, so take the $6 or take nothing."
At this point in the exchange, I was looking and feeling more the Asian Tourist than ever, for being sucked into Leroy's hustle. I had not asked in advance how much his services cost, and I was more than willing to actually give him the $20. Hell, I'd give him a $50 if that was all I had. Stupid tourist. It didn't put so much of a downer on my hopes about being in Barbados, but it was a welcome reality check, a reminder to keep my eyes and ears open in a country built on the tourist industry. I am, in fact, an Asian Tourist in Barbados.
Soooo, in light of this revelation, I am trying to draw up some plans for a Grand Theft Auto-like game called Tourist Hustler, where you, as a hustler, will try to mediate every interaction your "charge" has with the country he/she is visiting. Some basics:
- Resources. These include your social network of hustlers and service providers; tools like a baggage trolley, scuba gear, snorkling gear, maps, compasses, surf boards, local currency, disposable cameras, SIM cards, weaponry, etc. These tools will be stored in your safe house, which functions as a place to save your progress thorugh the game, among other things. In tropical countries, your safe house will be a shed by the beach or in the jungle; in other countries, the house will fit the tourist industry.
- Actions. Selling, and referrals. Selling: You can set the price of your tools, but if too high or too low, tourists might not bite based on a tourist's world experience. The higher the world experience, the harder it will be to hustle them; best try an easier mark. Gauging a tourist's world experience requires some world experience as well, and this will come from the user's knowledge of the game, and of, well, travelling. Referrals: The utility of a referral is a function of the relationship you have with the service provider. Be it requiring a small fee for your services, or from being close friends, each successful referral should give you some $$ in your cargo pants' pocket. You can of course gain market share (or build relationships) by referring for free, but at some point, other hustler's will invade your territory.
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The crickets are chirping, and the numerous gecko's are scrambling across the limestone roads and up the walls of our little house on the beach. C is playing Kakuro, after getting frustrated that no one was making 4x4 Soduku games. There was a photo shoot at the back of our house (see picture) earlier today, and I couldn't tell whether the model was anyone famous. Probably just some nondescript beautiful woman. In the following weeks, I'll try not to wear my Vancouver Sun Run shirt, my Asics shoes or my geeky wide-brimmed Marmot sunhat when I'm trekking around the island, but I'll have to get used to the fact that I am, in fact, a tourist in Barbados. Even the bugs are having a blast with their own "hustling" -- I've received 11 mosquito bites in 24 hours, of which they must have thought "Mmmm. Chinese food!!"
