Spice Island (Grenada) Impressions I: Houses that speak rainbow

By: aromaproductions on 9:53 PM

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St. Georges, Grenada

I have just returned from the island of Grenada where I spent three weeks. It is the birth home of my husband, Dr. Emmanuel Mark who was born in Hermitage, a village in St. Patrick’s parish. 

  I was last on the island of Grenada in 1989 when I visited with my family. At the time, we were living in Liberia (West Africa), a nation on the brink of civil war. 

Work has kept me away. My teaching schedule did not allow long winter holidays. I am retired now and fascinated by this island which reminds me, in parts (the lively market, the bus drivers and their conductors, its lushness), of Liberia.

 It is four times as large as St. Thomas, US, Virgin Islands where I grew up. Is is larger than Antigua, the island, where I was born.

Much of my time in Grenada was spent in St. George's, the capital. I twice visited Madeys, a village one hour's drive outside of St. George's, to see my sister-in-law, Lena Andall, who lives there and grows cacoa and nutmegs for a living. I couldn't resist taking a picture of some of her neighbor's houses. They were a calmer blue and surrounded by flowers, fruit trees and interesting vegetation.

I also took part in a tour (9:00 a.m.-5:00 p.m.) of island with my sister, Arlene Romeo Ware and my cousin, Grace Daniel who came to visit from Sacramento, California. They are still on the island (06.08.13) as I write, spending time on Grand Anse beach and making their way around St. George's by was of "tap-tap," the local bus that stops wherever you wish. Just tap on the ceiling when you wish to stop.

Grand Anse Beach, St. George's.

According to Wikipedia Grenada is an island country and commonwealth realm consisting of the island of Grenada and six smaller islands at the southern end of the Grenadines in the southeastern Caribbean Sea. Grenada is located northwest of Trinidad and Tobago, northeast of Venezuela, and southwest of Saint Vincent and the Grenadines.
 
Grenada is also known as the "Island of Spice" because of the production of nutmeg and mace crops of which Grenada is one of the world's largest exporters. Its size is 344 square kilometres (133 sq mi), with an estimated population of 110,000. Its capital is St. George's. The national bird of Grenada is the critically endangered Grenada Dove 
(http://www.scscb.org/working_groups/Actions/bird_March_07_Grenada_Dove.htm.)

There is a lot to write about on this fascinating island. I kept a daily diary of my impressions which I will post at interval. I was equally fascinated by its natural environment: mountains, rain forest, lakes, rivers, waterfalls; its vegetation, flowers, fruit trees, and vegetables. I was fascinated by its winding, narrow roads, its bus system, its old Caribbean culture and its colorful houses. I have written about all of these things above but first, I will begin with houses.

 I am a visual person and the brightness of the island’s painted houses, still light up my head and have barged their way into my memory.
 

There are many interesting houses in the towns and villages on the island of Grenada. 
There are large houses which are remnants of old plantations and there are large houses built by retired Grenadian returnees. They are people who have lived thirty years or more in England and America. Their houses, minute-mansions,  give the impression that there is a competition among the returnees to see who can build the largest house. 

 

 

 

What interest me, however, are the houses, large and small, new and dilapidated, that speak rainbow. It is the language of vibrant spirits, of happy hearts, and life that still dance despite its imperfections, despite disappointment and the unequal sharing of wealth on this island.It is an agricultural economy and most people make their livelihood from the land.
 

My favorite houses are the tiny two-to-three room houses which are remnants of colonial times. These houses were probably built by the community coming together to form a cooperative to help their brothers. This is an African tradition ( maroon or salaka) brought over by slaves. It is still carried on.

They were houses that moved when you moved—you took all your belongings, including the house. It was raised onto a vehicle and driven to its new neighborhood and set upon the frame awaiting it.

The colors, orange, purple, torqouise, bright yellow, pin and red, grab your eyes from a distance and speak so loudy, you cannot pretend not to hear their joy. They are a feast to the eyes. I am drawn to them like I drawn to the paintings of African and Caribbean artists. I am also drawn to the paintings of Paul Gaugin, Pablo Picasso, Henry Matisse and Van Gough.

 Little houses have just as great a view of the sea from the mountain top as large houses. There is no inequality there. All pockets might not be equal but nature speaks to the inhabitants in the same voice.

 

 Some people live in two-room houses on or near a beach. It is a spot that a foreigner would die for or pay millions for. Do these people know how lucky they are? They might be unemployed, but to wake up each morning to the rolling welcome of the sea and the smell of sea salt. 




Another pair of houses with a shared beach front view.

 

Of course, the world is not perfect. Living on a Caribbean island, there is a built-in hurricane alert in every sinew of the body. Hurricanes are dangerous no matter what part of the island you live on, no matter the size of your house.

 

 

 

 

We were told by a tour guide that some of the occupants, with the million dollar ocean views, were squatters. It seems no one is in a hurry to chase them away.

  I thought about returning to Grenada to choose a good beach front and lay my stakes on the sand and sea. It must be filled with seaside grapes and the low shady almond trees that line the long Grand Anse beach scape. 

Living here is living in the lap of God.

Here is my favorite little house with a great view.

I once lived in a house a little bigger than this one near the sea in the village of English Harbour on the island of Antigua where I was born. In this village, the people were farmers and fishermen. Many were smugglers of rum that were brought in by large ships which lay anchored in the safety of the ocean.

This tiny green house is probably a local shop in the village that we passed. It's lime-greeness speaks of properity. Green is the color of nature, spring and hope.