Four Years Ago Around This Time

Four years ago I was working as a child minder on a Brittish cruise ship. It was a 17 day trans-Atlantic holiday cruise. They flew me and two Brittish friends, one of whom got me the sweet cash paying job, from England to Barbados. The first part of the trip was spent tooling around the Carribean. I got to spend half-days on the islands when we were in port, and since I'd been to one of the islands before (St. Lucia, home of the Nobel winning poet Derrick Walcott, who I met and spoke with during my first trip there with a St. Olaf group) I found my way back to where I'd stayed with my host grandma, like a dog finding his way home. She was so surprised to see me just walking in through the gate I thought she might have a heart attack of hapiness. We drank Heineken and I watched her cook plantains while sitting on the edge of her balcony, which overlooked a big chunk of the island and a sliver of teal blue ocean, as well. She told me about her family (a new grandchild!) and I told her about whatever was going on with me at the time. The entire time I was there my host grandmother could not believe I'd returned; I was the casual tourist who somehow found his way back through the fog of space and time and arrived, unannounced, a few days before Christmas.

Sometimes I think love and good will may be enough, that humanity will find its way despite itself. (And sometimes I'm not even drinking when I think this.)