St. George’s, Grenada

Greetings from Grenada, an almond-shaped mass of volcanic composition that lies just 100 miles north of Venezuela – so close to Hugo Chávez! Known as the “Spice Isle,” Grenada is the world’s second largest producer of nutmeg and also exports ginger, cloves, cinnamon and a number of other spices. It smells heavenly here.

Since most of my work is done, I am taking the day off to relax on the idyllic Grand Anse beach. This trip has solidified my belief that I am not suited for the sands – my spirit lies in the mountains – but I am certainly enjoying the downtime. The people are lovely, the land is beautiful, and the local Caribbean brew, Carib lager, has a pleasant aftertaste.

No complaints here. Tomorrow I plan to finish work in the early afternoon and will possibly make a few purchases at the local Grand Anse Spice Market. I come home on Tuesday and look forward to moving into a new apartment with a close friend from college and spending some much needed time in Boston.

In the meantime, the sun is setting and I feel like going for a quick jog. See you stateside!

More Kingstown, St. Vincent

I spent Saturday morning collecting prices in the grocery store, and by the time I broke for lunch, most shops had closed their doors for the weekend. I was advised to visit the Saturday market in downtown Kingstown, so I walked a few blocks from lunch and meandered my way through stalls and umbrellas of food and an assortment of goods. Mangoes, bananas, and coconuts seemed to dominate the market, but I saw a few vendors selling bootleg media and small hygienic products. Nothing too out of the ordinary here in St. Vincent.

I joined Allie the economist for a pleasant meal at a hotel down the street, indulging myself with a tasty pan-fried red snapper. While Allie reminisced about growing up in Iran and working for the IMF in D.C., I dodged fish bones and made an impish decision to eat the snapper’s eye. It was chewy.

Sunday morning, I woke up and hopped in an hour-long taxi to the northern part of the island. My plan was to hike up La Soufrière (“sulfur outlet” in French), St. Vincent’s highest point at 4,048 feet, a stratovolcano that last erupted in 1979, thankfully leaving no casualties in its wake.

According to the hotel staff and two of my taxi drivers, I absolutely, positively needed a guide. On paper, the hike did not appear dangerous in the slightest, yet I was warned of raging ganja farmers that may try to take advantage of me. Raging ganja farmers? You’ve got to be kidding me. My ‘guide’ and I trudged through bamboo forest and arrived at the crater rim with no problems whatsoever, but my eyes were constantly scanning the horizon for fiery-eyed lunatics. My summit experience was short-lived, however, as rain clouds crawled over neighboring peaks. As it started to drizzle on the way down, I knew that the party of 4 on its way up wouldn’t be able to see much of anything if they made it to the top. “Dee urlee bird, day eet da best worms!”, my guide happily declared. Below are some short clips of the crater and hike down:

https://youtube.com/watch?v=rspTtXwpygw

https://youtube.com/watch?v=FCHTkw15Fqg

I slept the rest of the afternoon and went down to the ocean for a little swim. I passed out early and awoke this morning refreshed and ready to start another week. Today was pretty standard; wake up, go into town, and write down prices. I had lunch with some family friends that were here visiting their daughter – stationed nearby in the Peace Corps – and it was good to see some familiar faces.

Ooh, I forgot to mention! I usually take the public van into town each morning, but this morning I wasn’t sure where to get dropped off, so I took a taxi. As we drove into town, Andre, my driver, honked at a passing car.

“That’s one of the biggest drug traffickers in St. Vincent.”

“Do you know him or something?”

“Yea, we went to school together. The government just froze all of his assets.”

Thought that was worth noting. I leave for Grenada on Wednesday evening and will post another update there, Internet-connection pending.

Kingstown, St. Vincent

michaelphelpssperm

And Michael Phelps just made history with a seventh gold medal – winning the 100m butterfly by a hundredth of a second. He…is human, right?

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Work in Jamaica finished up nicely. I spent my last night at the hotel bar, watching Olympic gymnastics and shooting the breeze with an American Airlines pilot. Jack, the seasoned veteran, explained the airlines’ hierarchical system and how he ultimately became a pilot. A handful of drinks later (boy could he pound them down) and he had my full attention, recounting story after story of all the places he has traveled. He made sure to point out that the alcohol would wear off before his next flight. Funny guy.

Thursday morning I made a few final phone calls, wrapped up paperwork in Kingston and called my favorite cab driver for a quick shuttle to the airport. My plane to St. Vincent, connecting in Barbados, was a bit delayed, so by the time I landed, it was almost 11pm. Fatigued from nearly a day of travel, I went straight to my room, took a cold shower and proceeded to sleep like a log.

Today I woke up to rays of sun streaking through the window, slanted shafts of haze beckoning me to a glistening ocean rife with activity. With the weekend on the horizon, I sought to crank out a big day of work. After hitching a van ride into town with a crowded mass of squeezed locals, bouncing to the loud puntz puntz of Caribbean hip hop, I darted around rapidly and opportunistically from store to store, writing down gas and phone and washing machine prices like the fiend surveyor that I am adapting to be. It was exhausting.

During dinner I met Allie, a retired IMF employee who now spends his time teaching a world economics course for a Professional MBA program in D.C. and consulting for governmental bodies in the Caribbean. Hopefully, after a half day of work – most shops close Saturday afternoon – I can hit the beach and join him and his friend for dinner at one of Kingstown’s nicest restaurants, French Veranda.

Life on the road has been invigorating, unpredictable, and thus far satisfying, a mélange of tales that I am excited to share.

(photo credit: Patrick Moberg)

Kingston, Jamaica: My First International Survey

Jamaica, land of Bob Marley and the Rastafarians. Land of the bobsled team that came in 14th place in the 1992 Winter Olympics. Land of Red Stripe beer, jerk chicken, and the occasional – but certainly noticeable – whiff of schwag.

Ya mon!

It was a long day, but I’m glad to be here. I barely made my connection in Miami and finally checked into the Courtleigh Hotel in Kingston at 9:30pm. My room is quaint and comfortable, the attached picture is my remote workstation for the next 3 days. The hotel has a nice pool, several bars, and 24 hour fitness and business centers. It is also right smack in the center of New Kingston, straddled between the mighty Pegasus and Hilton hotels, and a stone’s throw away from many of the stores I will be surveying.

I’ve been training as a surveyor in Boston for the last month or so, and with Westchester, NY and Stamford, CT under my belt, I feel adequately prepared to tackle the Caribbean on my first set of international cities. After Kingston, I will survey Kingstown, St. Vincent and then St. George’s, Grenada until August 26th, when I return stateside.

In each city, I will meet with realtors to assess the rental market and will also price a variety of commodities and services, anything from grocery and clothing stores (women’s underwear, ahem) to insurance rates and automobile quotes. The idea is to collect the same kinds of goods and services around the globe, so we always look for the same market basket. Collecting these prices isn’t too bad for a seasoned surveyor, but since I’m new, I’ll likely be putting in long hours.

I’ll also likely be work in some beach time. I hear the Caribbean sunsets are stellar.