Week 5: Behind the Lens

My camera is a teacher.

What a dramatic statement to make, isn't it? But it's the truth. 

While taking photos last weekend, I got thinking, "what does my camera mean to me?" Have I mentioned here that I think about things too much? No? Well, I'm telling you now. I like to reflect a lot. 

I learned that when I do not have my camera in my hands, I do not know how to truly appreciate the details of this world. 

I transfix my eyes on the hard concrete beneath me, become concerned with the feelings of unbearable summer heat on my skin, the discomfort of my sweat and the grey gloomy floor that dictates all that I can see. I unintentionally become oblivious. It's almost like I forget how to see. 

When I have my camera in my hands, it's as though I get a new set of eyes, a new perspective. I don't walk as fast, my mind is clear and everything feels so beautiful. My camera lets me capture the world the way I see it. 

Isn't that beautiful? To be able to share ourselves, our own unique lens, unfiltered. 

 I love the planning, the setting changing, the angles, the getting low and in weird positions to take pictures, the using of timer and running to pose. All of it.

I truly believe that my photos reveal more about me than the content I write. Does that make you suspicious? Muhahaha. 

I am just playing with you. In all honestly though, I forgot how much I loved taking pictures until I came to Saint Lucia.

In fact, I had been so busy back home that I forgot to slow down. I like this new pace. 

So I guess if Saint Lucia has given me one thing, it's a sense of patience and an appreciation for quiet time. After a long time, I feel a sense of peace in me. 

I know this was a boring entry, I am sick (boo!) and had the longest, most emotionally charged work week yet. So I will leave you with a picture of me. Some of you have complained that I don't post pictures of myself, so here you go. No more whining for a month!

Much love as always and until next time, 

-Ko. 

Week 4: I Hungry

On my first day in the capital city of Castries, I made a prediction.

Like Dr.Manhattan* sitting on Mars with a photograph in his hand, predicting the exact time in which the photograph will slide from the tips of his fingers into the sea of burning red sand, I let time slip between my finger tips while my ideas fell to the floor. 

Unlike Dr.Manhattan, I did not know the exact time in which my prediction would take place but I knew how it would play out. This is the closest I am going to get to being compared to a super hero, isn't it?

On my first day of work, I walked by a homeless man. Every time I walked by him - by myself or with my coworkers - he would simply say "I hungry" and hold out his hand.

Much like the people around me, I did not stop to acknowledge his existence, or to even simply look. I was much too proud and cowardly to do so. At that moment, I knew that time would erase his need to hold his hand out to me. 

To him, I was going to become another person who will walk on by. In a few weeks time, he will stop asking me. 

Have you ever experienced the presence of a stranger so often that you begin to expect them? They become like memories of old friends from long ago - the kind of people that are filled with faint ideas, their existence hard to trace with your mind yet they bring comfort with their presence despite their unfamiliarity. 

As time went on, his presence became more apparent to me and unknowingly, I would leave my work expecting to see this old man in all of his misery. Seeing him brought some kind of sickening comfort in me. I hated feeling this way but his existence became a part of my routine. 

I selfishly wanted his acknowledgement simply because he became a part of my life, without much choice from either of us. 

Figures as much. Life brings two strangers in the proximity of one another but we are so scared by who these people are that we run away from each other. What a shame.

And then it happened his week. He stopped asking me. The prediction I had made, from what feels like an eternity ago, came true. I felt satisfied and disappointed. 

The tragedy of time: How long does a person go begging in life until they stop asking? It makes me wonder about the populations I work with. The thought of it truly frightens me. I should not hide from the world but the realities are, at times, hard to swallow. 

I ask myself "why do I feel so scared?" But I suppose that is only for me to know. 

When all is said and done, I cannot help but think one thought. 

What a wasted opportunity to be kind. 

Until next time, 

-Ko. 

*Dr. Manhattan is from the comic book called "Watchmen" by Alan Moore (which you should all read because it is the greatest book ever). 

Week 3: Sweetness at the Bottom of Chai

Think of all the things that could go wrong for a foreigner in another country, divide that by half and subtract the possibility of anyone dying or work related issues and the total sum will be more or less equivalent of my week. Or it could be really off - my math hasn't been good in ages. And this is why I chose to be a social worker.

Kidding, totally kidding. I chose to be a social worker so I can slowly create a world where unicorns and rainbows fill the sky, duh. 

This may be a good time to mention that I am kind of an idealist. 

Speaking of kidding-ness, I realized that my sarcastic sense of humour is not so well received here. People think that I'm being serious and I may have possibly accidentally offended half of the people I have interacted with. Whoops. 

Somethings you can only learn by messing up. Thank God I did the messing up for those of you coming down here. You're welcome. 

This week has been horrific to the point where it feels so crazy that I can't help but laugh at it. I am being a bit of a drama queen here but this week really has sucked. 

Misery loves company and you might as well put misery in the company of laughter. 

If you were to ask me if I love Saint Lucia, my answer would be no. Truthfully speaking, I don't even know if I like it. I do know that I don't completely dislike it so I suppose I'm kind of stuck in the middle. 

I hate being in the middle. I want to either like things, or not like things. I hate gray areas (ironically enough, social workers will always say that we "work with the gray." Maybe I did pick the wrong profession -ha). But this is not about my job because my job is awesome. 

I know it will get better but I am feeling a bit inpatient. It feels like everyone around me is so happy to be here and that there is something wrong with me. Le sigh. 

Have you ever brewed a cup of chai tea with milk? It is one of my favorite things to drink. 

Whenever I make chai tea with milk, I always make a silly mistake out of habit. I put my sugar in last but I never stir it properly. I always tell myself that I am going to do it differently next time but this vicious cycle continues. 

When I take my first sip, my tea feels bitter but as I continue to sip, it gets sweeter and sweeter, until I reach the bottom. The tip of my tongue surrenders itself to the wonderfulness of sugar and tea. 

The condensed sweetness at the bottom of warm, heartful chai. Yum. Nothing in this world compares.

So, here to hoping that I have only tasted the bitterness with the promise of an incomparable sweetness that will follow. 

If not, I guess I could just stir my tea properly next time - but it would not be as enjoyable. 

After all, it is the bitterness of the first sip that makes the bottom of the cup so magnificent.

Until next time, 

-Ko. 

Week 2: Looking for San Francisco

In December of last year, my family went on a long road trip to 11 different cities in the United States. One of the cities we visited was San Francisco.

When I went to San Francisco, it was love at first sight - I still dream about it. I was enchanted by the buildings, by the atmosphere, the people, and of course, the food. Heck, I even loved the heavy rain that drenched us. San Francisco felt like the kind of home I had dreamt about my whole life, without ever knowing how badly I wanted it.

It feels almost silly to say that when we left San Francisco, a city I had only been in for no longer than 10 hours, I felt like I was leaving my home, I felt like I was leaving a little part of me behind. I had never experienced this kind of love for a location before. Like I said, it was love at first sight.

I told myself that I will live there one day, even if it was for 3 months, 6 months, a lifetime but I will live there.

Was it naive of me to think that I was going to find San Francisco on this Island? I had dreamt of falling in love instantly with Saint Lucia, and well, there have been a few bumps along the way.

These are the kinds of bumps that come with going to any new place - or so I assume. The lifestyle change, the change in levels of comfort and the cultural change. It's so strange to think that back in Canada, I knew exactly who I was, what my values were, where I stood on things and now that I'm in a new context, I feel more lost.

I hope I figure it out soon. Thankfully, Saint Lucia has been patient with me. I have only been here a week after all.

The beauty of this marvellous country has been slow to reveal itself to me, with still aways to go but I find comfort in the fact that I have so much more to learn about this place, and more importantly, the time to do it.

The kindness I have experienced here is beyond anything I could have ever expected and with so many teachers found along the way - from my supervisor to the young girls I have the pleasure to work with, some of whom has been open enough to share their stories with me. I feel so privileged and honoured. 

Others have shared their foods with me, such as mangos in a salty mixture called "Mango in Sauce," (it seriously feels like all the rage with the kids here), tamarind balls, guava cheese, coconut cake, float, acckra, and wax apples (pictured below). What better way to enjoy something new than with food?

I know I am going to be okay. I feel a tad bit stuck and liberated at the same time. I'm excited and scared. One thing I know for sure: I know I'm in the place I'm supposed to be. My job definitely fits me. 

So, who knows, I may not find San Francisco but I may just end up finding paradise.

Until next time,

-Ko.