This first and sun-filled day in St Lucia i decided to try and hike the Rainforest Nature Trail and cross the entire island to the city of Soufriere, to the sulphur springs. i was told it would be easy to go out of the reserve and cross the island instead of taking the intended trail loop.... upon arrival i was asked to pay 10 dollars by the forest service then they decided it would be 20 instead. they seemed fairly flexible so i gave them $10 and we called it even. they asked if i knew where i was going. i lied and said yes. they looked at me waved and we parted ways. there weren't many things to see on the trail except an over whelming amount of vegetation and a few tiny waterfalls. i kept waiting for vistas to come along but only dense tropical forest. somehow i took a wrong turn when i got out of the park and four hours later i ended up at a banana shack with its owner Simon, carrying bananas upon his head.
he offered directions and said i was very far away from where i wanted to be. he said i had two choices to get there. i took one of them and five minutes later i was looking at a map that was identical to the map that i took a photo of when i entered the forest. i was back to where a started and nobody was around and my ride that dropped me off was long gone. i was 6 miles from the main road. but i was in the mountains so i was weary of actually finding a ride. so i started walking hoping that one of those wonderful pickup trucks full of bananas would come my way. off the road i found two grapefruits and decided to eat one and walk back into the rainforest with more confidence in finding the correct route. i went back and forth indecisively 3 more times until i came to my senses and went back to the larger path thinking the forest may be a bit darker when night falls.....10 minutes later a man drove up, yep in one of those awesome Toyota's, and i asked if he was heading to Micoud he said that he wasn't but in the village of Roseau i would be better off with finding a ride. so i hopped in his truck and finally those panoramic vistas of the island that i was looking for came speeding at me at a good 40 miles per hour. he drove me for about ten minutes and said "this man will give you a ride" and pointed to another Toyota on the side of the road, this one yellow. we were on the outskirts of a small village and the back of the new truck was filled with scrap metal. tin roofing....very rusted. i began helping the passenger unload his salvaged goods and he thanked me. i asked the driver if he was going to Roseau and he said to jump in. i think he spoke mostly creole. he took me five more minutes and said he would stop and that i should walk this way ....with a general waving of his hand, half lazily, half tossing his newly found burden into the clouds..... i nodded thank you and enjoyed being able to walk through such a breezy sun soaked village...watching the stray dogs watching myself.......soon enough a taxi bus picked me up and took me on my way to Vieux Fort. i decided still to make it to Soulfriere. i couldn't endure defeat. on my first bus ride there was this little boy and his mother who got on soon after i had....the boy wore these rad sun glasses and i couldn't help but feel the jealousy swell up inside. so i pulled out my very own pair and nudged him on the shoulder while putting the shades over my eyes with the nod of my head and gave him a silent "whats up" .. i guess he was pretty impressed and we traded sun glasses for a time being until i thought that he might not ever give them back....i mean were talking authentic Ferris Bueller shades.... not one in their right mind would want to give these things up after trying them on....

after two more bus changes i made it to Soufriere just in time for sunset and an uncanny feeling that once night falls i probably wont be enjoying my stay as being the only tourist around....while waiting for a bus back i was told that all the buses have ended for the evening and that i would probably be stranded....upon the individuals condolences he offered me a "taxi" back to Vieux Fort for the mere some of $25..... a bit pricey given the $2 bus ride in..... i decided to walk out of the city and take my chances hitching.... after a few wrong turns and a dead end street, i was told my decision to hitch at this hour, given the color of my skin, would be ill advised..... he said to go back to the town square and i was sure to at least get a bus to the next city, where i would more then likely catch another bus home.....
his insight was very appreciated and sure enough i made it across the island in less then an hour just before we had picked up a blind guitar player by the name of Jim Snow. he must have been in his eighties and i saw him again at the airport on our way departing the country.... he was playing for change with a big ol Caribbean grin that he must of developed over the many years of sunlight gracing his skin...... the circumstance offered such an immense feeling of joy and i hadn't the means to fully understand his music as something literal but as something much more elaborate.... it was more the feeling in merely understanding his smile.....

while being on the island for a short week its a struggle not alienate or become alienated by its culture.... when the majority of an economy is based on bananas and tourism there is an obvious feeling of disconnect... the lifestyles of the wealthy meeting the people of the land....
my time in this place presented a challenge when relating to people that perceive life much differently then the place in which i've come to understand as my own home........ when lacking understanding, many "tourists" tend to pass judgements when traveling instead of seizing the opportunity to endure change and realize themselves as not the person which they had thought they brought with them on arrival... to see themselves complimenting the nuances of culture instead of condensing it into the vision of the world that they had just came from...

when sitting in the airport that day and hearing this Jim Snow play music from his beat up guitar, i thought of all the tourists around me that i had avoided during my stay in hopes of finding more culture then the resorts could offer. i thought of the sound of music passing through the stale airport terminal air and the way it mixed and mingled with different ears momentarily then bouncing around the high ceilings and the wooden rafters and back to the place it first came from. how the sound would either create memories or meanings. ideas or feelings. rhythms or language.
and i figured that this feeling i've found in his music may be derived from the new language i had created when trying to see his culture as something that i could also call my own culture. both as something at a varying distance while seemingly inseparable.
experiencing something both fragile and statuesc in the light of conflict. while transforming eighty years of something inexplicable to the ears of a Michigander into something worth cultivating into a feeling..... leaving this place to travel again to the strife of my own cultures that i had once seen as merely subdued ....... yet now offering the challenge for seeing it again as the way i had been compelled to understand this tiny island....... oh and he had cassettes for sale.