at the crossroads...
thoughts that want to be written down
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Friday, 2. March 2007
Notes from the Caribbean


February 24, 2007

Magens Bay, St. Thomas

A dozen pelicans are circling above the emerald waters, one after another diving into the sea for the fish. And a dozen of dark-skinned kids, who could probably trace back their roots to the African slaves brought to the Caribbean to work in sugarcane plantations. "The National Geographic" magazine selected this beach as one of the ten most beautiful in the world. Since then cruise ships stop here over for a day and tourists enjoy a piece of paradise lost.





I've been reading about oil companies and indigenous politics in Ecuador and just last night finished the captivating "Bang Bang Club" on four journalists working during the fall of the apartheid regime in South Africa, covering the hostel wars and black-to-black violence. One of them got shot, another one com comitted suicide. The contrast between this tropical paradise and everyday lives of people living in similarly "exotic" places upset me... Would I feel equally well on a beach in Haiti or Sierra Leone? Palm trees would be there, so would the clear blue waters and white sand, but knowing that there is a social wall separating me from the people whose home I am visiting would be hard to endure. Surely, I might risk and "get local", but that wouldn't erase my status, clearly visible in the milk-white skin and fancy "Sony" digital SLR camera. And yet being an anthropologist, interested in border violence, I will most likely end up having to live in such contrasts. I am part of the system. My camera would be far too expensive was it made in the EU or USA and not by the cheaply bought hands in Chinese sweatshops. Wallerstein was so right about the world economy. But this understanding that I am part of the system of social injustice and structural violence, as an ignorant participant, is paralysing. Yes, I am. And no, I still want to do a little bit I can to change something. By writing?.. An iguana is hiding in the bush just a meter away from us. Stephan is reading a thriller about an attempt to assasination at a G8 summit in Cologne. The shade of the palm tree where we have been hiding from the sun keeps moving away. A perfect day. It's beauty has to be captured. Imprinted on the memories. A get-away from all the troubles in the world.









February 26, 2007

Lindbergh Bay, St. Thomas

That's it. I am fed up. Am I only capable of resting for a few days and never longer? Today, on our fifth day in St. Thomas, I got a call from Olajide, a Nigerian lawer doing his Ph.D. at Brandeis, about the preparations we should be making for the Greater Boston Anthropological Consortium conference next week. Our poster on South Sudan is far from ready. And Escobar's book on deconstructing the concept of development has brough back all other academic realities. But that is only a minor trouble compared to another incident. Today on our way to the beach we saw men with machetes clearing the bush. It was the first time I saw machetes, as far as I can remember, but I had a strong ill-feeling about them. Instead of being a symbol of happy locals cutting the pineapples, I see them always already stained with blood... In the hands of child soldiers in South Africa or Liberia. My thoughts are too disturbed all the time. Not that I want to... I am really fed up... It might be bad for my psyche. Stephan remarked: "You read too many books". Maybe he is right. Although by now I have travelled quite a lot and have found myself in some situations that wake up the dreamers and get them back to social realities, I still haven't seen too much of the hard life I have been reading about. Seeing that might actually scare the shit out of me. Maybe then I would stop dramatizing and romanticizing violence... I need rum, more rum, which we have been drinking every evening in our balcony overlooking the bay... 75.5 percent strong. cuba libres... and mojitos. I enjoyed the Mahi Mahi fish last night in a local restaurant. And right now I just need to lie on the beach contemplating the moves of the palm trees in the breeze. Somehow Argentina did not disturb me that much. I loved it. Is it because the scenery now is too idyllic? Like from a kitchy postcard depicting a sunset in the southern sees. Yes, it's a cool place for reaggae parties and snorkeling. But it is boring... as an Israeli taxi driver from North Dakota told Stephan on his way back home from the Danish capital of the island, Charlotte Amalie. One of the remaining American colonies now... "American Carribean". Anyway, back to Boston tomorrow... via Miami and New York. Long journey. And cold days awaiting. And when I get back the first thing I will do is to pay a bit of the increasing debt to Lithuania... since I left for my studies in the U.S., I have done nothing at all for my country. And after this trip I am convinced I have to get down to work. Probably I will accept the offer from national radio station to make short reflexions on my academic work. And also write. To someone. About something. I need to do that to help me escape all this burdensome thoughts...









More pictures: http://picasaweb.google.com/ieva.jusionyte/CarribeanIslandStThomas

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