Four months

Guess who is four months old today. Can you believe it? Here are some pictures from the last few weeks. He continues to amaze us by how fast he is growing and how darn cute he is.

Tough guy(s)

Yes, I got it again!
Hey, I'm naked!

Mommy's sous chef

Carnival

The second weekend in August marked the biggest party of the year in Grenada - Carnival.

It lasted several days and included parties that started before dawn, steel drum band competitions, a beauty contest and parades.

I don't really understand what all the activities mean. They are a mix of French, African and Caribbean traditions. A little Caribbean-style Mardi Gras in August if you will.

From what I can tell the weekend included lots of elaborate costumes, very loud music, dancing and drinking. All the elements you would expect out of a good party, unless you have a four month old.

So we didn't participate much in the festivities but we did make it to a parade on the last day. We enjoyed seeing all the colorful costumes. Power to Grenadians for sporting these in the tropical heat. These people take their Carnival seriously.

Sugar and spice

I went to a small local grocery store today on a search for lettuce, which they did not have at IGA. No lettuce to be found at this little store either, but I did come across some locally made candies that I just had to try.

I went a little overboard and bought six different varieties, as you can see. I love the packaging which looks to be homemade. Some of the labels are just a small square of printer paper taped on the bag. I suspect all the candies are made in some one's kitchen and not "commercially" produced.

Here's the name of each treat and the ingredients (for five anyway, one package has no label at all):

GIGIRIE - sesame seeds, sugar, spices

Sugar Cake - nuts, sugar, ginger and spices

Sesameseed Peanut Brittle - sugar, nut, sesameseed and raisin

Chip Chip - coconut, sugar, spices

Catherine's Coconut Fudge - coconut milk, milk, sugar, butter, essence

They have some interesting flavors. Some are a little exotic for my taste. The chip chip and the peanut brittle are probably my favorites. They are the sweetest.

Ginger in the Sugar Cake is a little overpowering and the GIGIRIE is pretty heavy on the sesame seed which I've never had as a "sweet" before.

Coconut fudge is not bad but no replacement for the chocolate version. The unmarked bag is just kind of spicy, I don't know how to describe it.

So that was my little Caribbean adventure for the day. Another new culinary experience in Grenada. Now my tummy hurts.

Callaloo Soup

I've been disappointed in myself for not attempting to cook anything local in the past year. Meaning, although I've used locally-grown vegetables and we eat locally-baked bread, I haven't actually cooked a dish that is popular here that we do not eat in America.

I stick to what I know using the imported ingredients sold at the "American" grocery store. Now I understand why immigrants at home shop at Fiesta. It's just easier/less intimidating to prepare what is familiar.

So on a whim I bought a little bag of chopped callaloo which is the spinach of Grenada. Callaloo looks like a variety of what we call "elephant ear" in America. A quick google search tells me that it is in fact in the same family or even the same thing. It's just never caught on as a food in the US.[So you can try this at home, but make sure you cook the callaloo for awhile - it is poisonous raw.]

The cost of this little bag of chopped greens was about $1 EC which is equivalent to almost nothing in US money. That's a smart buy especially when the imported vegetables and fruit here are outrageously expensive and go bad practically before you get home.

Callaloo is popular in a lot of dishes but I see it most in soup. And people eat a lot of soup here. It is on the menu everywhere. Which surprises me since soup is the last thing I want to eat in these tropical temperatures. To me it is a winter food. In the absence of winter though, it becomes just like any other hot food. Something to eat year round.

So back to my cooking experience, I spontaneously bought the callaloo and figured I could try making a soup with it. I looked up a few recipes when I got home but didn't have all the ingredients for any of them so I created a little hybrid recipe. Sometimes callaloo soup is chunky with okra (also a popular local vegetable) and seafood, but I've had a pureed version that I like so that is what I tried.

I sauteed some onions and garlic, added some coconut milk and vegetable broth, a pinch of red pepper flakes and the callaloo, boiled it for 30 minutes and then threw it in the blender (always keep your hand on the lid while blending, doh).

It turned out pretty good although it would be more exciting with some additional ingredients. Next I think I'll try the pumpkin soup which is another local favorite and quite tasty. Hopefully I can expand my culinary skills a bit more in the time we have left here. Not to mention save some money on some locally grown produce.

Callaloo soup - I know it looks straight out of The Exorcist, but trust me, it's good

P.S. Can I get a book deal now?? I am transforming my life through Caribbean cooking! It could be called Julie and Rasta.

One year down

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of our arrival in Grenada. Even after a year, it still blows my mind that we live here. I am constantly saying to C.J. or anyone else who will listen, "isn't it crazy, we live in the Caribbean!"

Moving here has expanded our life experience exponentially. I suspect it has changed us in ways that we're not even aware of yet. It's not just a year of flip flops, no TV and mosquito bites (although we've had all that).

It's been a year of learning respect for things that are different and a lesson in patience. It's been a year of appreciation for things we took for granted and closer examination of things we thought were a no brainer. And a year of recognizing what makes up our own values and identity.

There was a short segment on culture in C.J.'s behavioral science class this summer. The purpose of this was to acknowledge that different cultures may affect the way you diagnose and treat your patients.

His notes defined culture as the thing that makes you feel like a stranger when you are away from home. I thought that simple definition made so much sense.

In a lot of ways, I still feel like a stranger here. I am constantly reminded of the things about this country that are so different from my own. The three-quarter size refrigerator in my apartment, the mango trees growing on every corner, the unpaved road we live on, the reggae buses, the goats tethered along the side of the "highway," foods with names like callaloo and lambie...the list is never ending.

In some ways I take the differences in stride after a year. I'm proud to say I've mastered driving on the left side of the road. I can interpret the accent a little better. I can calculate the conversion rate of Eastern Caribbean dollars to US dollars quickly in my head ($10EC = $4US, $20EC = $8US, $50EC = $20US and so on).

But there are so many things I still don't fully understand about what it means to be Grenadian. Just what it feels like to be from a tropical island, to only know one kind of weather, to expect to sweat constantly as a part of life year round. To use a machete like it is a pocket knife, eat salt fish and like it, play a steel drum instead of a guitar. To not drive until I'm 18 (driving age here) or not use air conditioning in my home. To know fast food is the guy cooking chicken on a grill outside of a rum shack and accept as normal stray dogs roaming free in the streets.

It's caused me to ponder this question recently, can anyone ever truly understand a different culture? For me, I think the answer is no.

I have acclimated to the currency, the food, the etiquette (always address a Grenadian formally with a "good morning" or "good afternoon"). But there is a deeper culture of spirituality, world view and shared history that I will never fully grasp from living here.

Culture is our identity. And my identity is firmly and forever American. Before moving here that identity, that culture, was invisible to me. It was just the thing that made life predictable, easy, familiar.

Here the invisible becomes visible. So many things here that are so outside of my comfort zone, foreign and bewildering.

After a year I still feel it every day. When I wait in an endless line at the pharmacy. When I try to give someone directions to my house but there are no street signs to direct them. When I turn the propane on to light my stove. When I take a walk and see the ocean beyond every hill and around every corner (well that part is not bewildering, it's beautiful).

And now we only have 10 months left. We are on the downhill. Although I've decided I can never fully understand the culture here, I want to try and take advantage of every unique thing about living here that I can before we leave. Feeling like a stranger is not necessarily a bad thing.

Liam at 3 months

Just this morning we got final pictures back from our three-month photo shoot with the ever-talented and amazing Alexis Shaeffer. We are forever grateful for her photography skills and generosity.

What did I do? Tossed the real baby in his swing, piled up some toys on his tray for him to play with and ran to my computer to look at them.

I must say, they turned out beautifully! If he's not the cutest baby in the whole universe well, you must not be his mother.

At his three month check up last week he weighed 12 lbs 4 oz and measured 25 inches. He's using his hands to grab and hold things, he coos, he smiles and he's even rolled over a few times (yet to be captured on video).

Most of the dark hair fell out and what is left of it has lightened up and even has a reddish tint. And he has brown eyes, much to the surprise of his green-eyed parents.

We are blown away by how fast he has changed since birth. He seems like a whole new baby. Yet another parenting cliche, "they grow up so fast," has come to be true.

For comparison, here are photos taken by Lexi at one week. So tiny and sleepy. We couldn't get him to stop crying unless we put the pacifier in his mouth. What a difference three months makes.

Garden variety

Here's something I'd like to take credit for but had absolutely nothing to do with. A community garden at our apartment complex.

Our neighbors, the Shaeffers, brought back several packets of seeds from their summer vacation in the US. They wasted no time spearheading a little garden project. Our other neighbors, the Werners, jumped in to help and C.J. put in some manual labor as well.

They found a shovel and a hoe and tilled up the whole plot in a day. After some watering and fertilizing, the seeds were planted a few days later. A little "fence" was created with some rebar and pipes laying around and an unused clothes line. Voila, a garden!

A few short weeks later we have some plants popping up. Corn, tomatoes, onions, carrots, radishes, lettuce and peppers as well as some melon plants. Lots of weeds are popping up too so everyone takes turns pulling those and the Shaeffers and the Werners are keeping up the watering schedule. Everyone is anxiously awating our first crop.

For my part, I did pull a few weeds one day last week. And I'm blogging about it. Does that count for anything?

Aerial view of the garden plot with Erica watering

C.J. and Zane tilling up the soil; C.J. is wishing there was no such thing as a short-handed shovel

Planting party - Shaeffers, Werners and McDaniels sowing the seeds

Soil, sun and water = seedlings

Weather report: Call for laundry

The temperature is the same every day year round in Grenada - mid 80s. Seasons are measured by rainfall and the two seasons are dry and wet. We've just entered the rainy season which runs June through December.

During rainy season the humidity is about 250 percent. Very bad for people with curly hair. I think I've mentioned this before. It feels hot and sticky and rain comes and goes in small showers. It goes from sunny to rain back to sunny very quickly, except for on the occasional day when it pours non-stop.

Almost everyone on the island hangs their laundry on a line outside to dry. Our building is no exception. We have a dryer but it only takes American quarters and it takes 12 of them. Three dollars to dry a load of clothes is not very practical.

So, we all hang our laundry to dry, which is a new experience for me. Oh the modern conveniences we take for granted in America!

At first I was a little intimidated. How does it work? What, wooden clothes pins - they still sell those things? I thought they had gone the way of the typewriter or horse and buggy. And we had to get our own plastic-coated wire to hang outside our front door for a clothes line.

Turns out, it is a very simple process. Just clip wet laundry on the line, wait a few hours and presto - dry clothes. There is something refreshing and wholesome about it. A throw back to simpler times.

Clothes still have the smell of detergent and, except for towels (which are crunchy and stiff - something you learn to live with), they turn out soft and clean. It's environmentally friendly. Really, it's no big deal.

But that was during the dry season. Laundry, once a casual weekly chore, has turned into a fine art or sport if you will. There is a strategy to it now. It goes like this.

First thing in the morning, when you are just becoming conscious but still lying in bed, think, is it raining? It is easy to tell because rain makes a loud noise on our roof. No rain? OK, that's promising.

Next, look out the window. Not just one window though. Check the kitchen window to see what is rolling in from the beach. Then look out the front window to see if there are any clouds hanging over the parking lot.

Inevitably, there will be some clouds. So then one must size up these clouds. Are they dark or light? Taking up most of the sky or just a few scattered here and there?

If they are light and few, then it's time to grab the dirty clothes. Of course, there are only two washing machines in our building and six women with children who stay home all day. Translation: that is a lot of competition for the washing machines. Oh yeah, and one of those is broken right now.

But let's just assume the washing machine is open (and we do a pretty good job of sharing). So that's an hour to get the clothes through the wash cycle. And a lot can happen in an hour. Large, dark clouds can be hovering on the horizon or even right over our building in that short time frame.

You're already committed at this point so might as well hang them on the line and see what happens. It is a little gamble to see if those clouds will pass or if you will be dashing outside to salvage the clothes during a rainstorm.

Or, if the sky looks ominous, there is the backup plan which is, spread the laundry on every available surface in the apartment and use the fans to dry clothing. Not a terrible plan just inconvenient when you want to sit on the couch and there are wet T-shirts and boxers all over it.

On a good day the clouds will pass with no precipitation or just a few drops, which won't do any harm. Occasionally, one will forget about the clothes on the line and a rainstorm will come and by the time you remember it is just too late. They are all soaking wet again.

Or recently, I left the clothes out until after dark and then decided I was too tired to get them so I left them till morning.

[That's another thing - start the laundry process as early in the day as possible so as to capitalize on the sun's drying powers. Any laundry started after 2 p.m. and you're taking the chance of clothes still being wet when the sun goes down. Then you're definitely on to plan B with drying clothes in front of the fan which means an inefficient two-step drying process. See what I mean about strategy?]

Anyway, under no circumstances should you leave laundry out overnight. Even during dry season showers at night are common.

So on this said day I left the laundry out and of course it rained during the night. And then it rained all the next day. It was a day where you would not even attempt laundry because it was dark and cloudy from the start.

Now all those clothes must go back in the washer and it is back to square one. Is the washer available? Should I chance hang drying during a short burst of sunshine? And so on.

Hanging laundry with Liam's help

Not a good day for laundry

Confession: Let's get real, I did not rewash those clothes. With Liam as my helper it was hard enough to get them washed the first time. I left them out all day until it cleared up and they were finally dry about sunset.

They have a distinct earthy, acid rain smell to them but I like to just think of it as hey, they got a few extra rinse cycles.