That's the Way the Crumble... Crumbles

The days are hot and the sun is relentless, the hours just after lunch most brutal, but we're pushing on, making efforts to get an earlier start to each day so the sun doesn't force us prematurely into the shade. It rains here and there, soaking everything with a minute or two of startlingly cold droplets, providing a moment's respite from the heat.

Our efforts are now one and a half weeks in progress. The irony of life in Grenada is that time moves slow but the day ends sooner than expected. We've already learned many valuable lessons about Grenadian culture that will allow CFFI to better navigate its social terrain in the future, but our group remains the test batch and our learning comes with many challenges while we're still here. The first is acceptance. How do we approach people here with the presumption that something in the system is broken and needs fixing? Even if it's widely understood that agriculture is in danger, where do we focus our efforts? And how do we not offend those organizations that are already in place in Grenada, reaching for the same goals? These are the questions we're facing every day, as we must, in order to grow.

Wading through these particularly swampy issues has just slightly hindered our activities. Still, the students are making impressive headway in just a week's time, navigating through the communication and transportation barriers of a mountainous, Caribbean island. I'm surprised we can all still move after the carbo-loading that goes on at breakfast. I'm guilty of that. I'm averaging about three slices of toast, five tablespoons of peanut butter, two tablespoons of cow's butter, one mango, and a healthy portion of whatever the treat du jour happens to be per morning. And that's squeezed in with two cups of wholesome cocoa tea, one hefty cup o' good-ass joe, and half a liter of water. That does me good for about two hours, then it's mango o'clock.

Charlie is rolling along with providing a good vet with rabies vaccine. In the meantime, Charlie likes to do a bit of everything, and well. Last Sunday was beach day and Charlie was out in full form, schooling an American (me), a pseudo-Brit (Mark), and a couple Grenadians (two of Yvonnes' sons - Yvonne works Kim's land) in sand soccer. Today, he's assisting Kim in some mechanical project. I'm lost on that one. He's busted out the harmonica, too, in a duet with Bluesmaster Kim. And he's rivaling me with the amount he eats.

Megan and Ali are cruising on all cylinders with their educational outreach. With the help of some tiny hands, they've just planted a handful of seedlings at the school in Victoria. These breadfruit trees come from Kim's land and will be maintained by the students, providing the school with a dose of delicious "provisions" - starchy, bulk food for feeding hungry students. Fifteen more seedlings, including cocoa, await next week's plantings. Back at the shack, Megan and Ali are the cooks of the group. Or, rather, they're the only ones who dare challenge Kim to take over cooking duties. Kim has a black belt in cuisine but the Keene girls are scrappy fighters. Last week Megan tossed up a killer eggplant parmesan dish that had Kim raving. And last night the girls cooked a full dinner: bean-and-biscuit casserole and cold pasta salad with squash, cukes, vine spinach, and fresh herbs. I found it delightful. For dessert, Ali tried her hand at cocoa nib blondies. My first bite was a touch heavy on the baking soda and for a minute we thought the experiment was a baking-soda BUST, but by my fifth piece I knew she had baked a success. Caribbean pizza is next on the docket. Booyah.

Sarah is forging ahead with her wheelbarrow-construction project and will be helping me with surveying cocoa varieties. With the help of Mark, the truest Jack-of-all-Trades there e'er was, she'll be building a prototype this week, collecting abandoned wheelchairs, and providing a model for future handymen who want to help farmers transport their beans. In her spare time she'll be checking out cocoa trees with me and Mr. Kenroy, the GCA extension officer with a (nearly) photographic memory of cocoa varieties in Grenada. It's our small part in the quest for quality. Makes me want to re-read Pirsig.

Cocoa nursery

Our days are filled with surprises, but our nights are calm and relaxed. The sun goes down early here, compared to what I'm adjusted to, which allows ample time for having a cold beverage, watching the molten colors of the sky melt into cool neptunal blues, and talking about life and learning. Or, crack open a coconut, listen to the mona monkeys hoot and holler, catch up on reading, and go to bed at nine. Good times.

Owen