Living like a St. Johnian

Day 3.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is a donkey in my front yard. I called her Eleanor. She is quite docile, minding her own business. When she saw me, she approached, as if asking for food or something. I didn't have any, so instead I scratched behind her big ear.

I think I will try to domesticate Eleanor, and teach her some tricks, like "sit", "down", and "stay". This may take a while, so be patient with my progress.

(td)YuRt(td)

(td)

You know you don't have to read his tread right. You contribution is here is pretty weak.

He is just describing what he sees and experience. You may not like it; however this is his experience and I for one appreciate it.

Day 4.

Not all paradises are created equal. Some Muslims and Christians believe that there are "circles", or "levels" of hell and heaven. American Virgin Islands, also known as "America's Paradise", is certainly a good example. There are layers and layers of different paradises stacked up in Virgin Islands.

The Saint Johnians in the east of the islands are in the top paradise tier. The average price of a single home here is about $2M. Some properties sell for as high as $15M. Saint Johnians must have prayed non-stop, feverishly, all their lives. They loved God, and committed no sins (except for their original sin). They are free from wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy, and gluttony. For this, they have been rewarded. Here in east St John, it's as close as you can get to God.

This brings us to Eleanor the donkey. Some Christians believe that animals go to Heaven, too. What did Eleanor do to deserve such an honor? The other day, didn't she look in lust at the male donkey? Didn't she defecate on my front yard without so much as saying "Good Morning" before committing such a carnal offense? Didn't she indulge in gluttony and sloth when she consumed all my grass and did absolutely nothing else all day long?

The evidence above conclusively proves the following: the Lord works in mysterious ways. I'll elaborate on this fascinating subject later.

Day 4 (continued).

For the last 4,000 years, Eleanor's ancestors were referred to as "asses". It's not clear to me why people would use such a pejorative epithet to refer to a domesticated animal. It's true that donkeys are stubborn, but this stubbornness is simply a defensive mechanism that donkeys use when they perceive danger.

Everything changed when Kim Kardashian became famous. Suddenly, it was realized that Armenian people suffered enough. In 1915, about 1 million Armenians were slaughtered in a genocide sponsored by the Ottoman empire. It would be an insult to use the same word for Kim Kardashian body part, as it is for a donkey. Kim Kardashian's ass impacted the minds and souls of American public and American government in a dramatic fashion, and produced two paradigm shifts:

1. Donkeys are no longer called "asses".
2. The American government relations with Syria, where the Armenian people were slaughtered, have considerable deteriorated, to the point of undeclared war.

Now just imagine what might happen next, when a well-hung male of Jewish descent becomes a celebrity, and causes people to think differently when it comes to referring to roosters as "cocks".

Day 4 (continued).

The phrase "The Lord works in mysterious ways" is not found anywhere in the Bible. It's just something that Christians like to say because they think it sounds cool.

To understand the Lord's ways, one must think like the Lord. Sometime tonight, after the sunset, when the temperature drops to 77 degrees, when the life on the islands slows down, take a sip of Merlot, look at the stars, and engage yourself in the following mental experiment. Suppose you are the Lord, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent. You feel like creating the Universe tonight. What would it look like? Would there be any stars? Would the planets be shaped as cubes, as opposed to spheres? How big would the Universe be? Would there be any donkeys? And what would be your role in regulating and maintaining all of this once you are done?

Clearly, there is a lot to think about when approaching such a monumental task. The Hindus believe that this job is so enormous that one God simply can't handle it. There are thousands of Gods in Hinduism, and a separation of labor takes place. These thousands of Gods work together in the cosmic symphony, composing the world as we see now. The Hindi Gods have a hierarchy. The three main Gods are the Creator of the Universe, the Maintainer of the Universe, and the Destroyer of the Universe. These dudes make sure that the big picture can be seen from far away from the more mundane aspects of handling the Universe.

I am a software engineer, and my way of creating the Universe is influenced by my profession. In software engineering, there is a concept of "lazy computation". It simply means that it would be a waste of resources to compute something and come up with the result which would never be used anywhere in the software program. For example, if I develop a piece of software which calculates the density of donkeys in each part of the VI islands, there is no sense in calculating it for all parts. The user of my software may only be interested in East St John. Why waste the CPU cycles on St Croix?

Here comes a really brain-twisting part of this "lazy computation" concept. If I only compute the population of donkeys in East St John, what does it tell us about the population of donkeys in St Croix? Does it tell us that there are no donkeys in St Croix?

In classical physics, things are straightforward. The existence of donkeys in East St John is independent of your observation. They either exist or they don't, and it doesn't matter a single bit what you think about their existence. Things change quite unexpectedly in quantum physics. From the quantum physics perspective, the donkeys in East St John exist and do not exist, all the same time. All there is a probability of their existence and nonexistence, nothing else. When someone observes the donkey, something magical happens: the probability wave collapses, and the existence of donkeys takes a certain state: they exist.

I hope you are still with me, as we are now ready to think like the Lord. The Lord made an extraordinary clever decision, which now permeates the entire Universe, from the subatomic level, to the astronomic level. The Lord's decision was this: "let dem things be undetermined, until observed". Thus, the Lord embraced the concept of lazy computation, and applied it to the most grandiose computation problem, which is calculating the position and the velocity of every single particle in the Universe. "Why bother?", he figured. If no one can see a star 2 billion light years away, then for all intents and purposes, it does not exist. Or, more precisely, it exists and it doesn't exist, until someone observes it.

But wait, there is more. I'll explain later.

Hansen Bay beach in East St John. You can see the pelicans in action very up close. These bad boys are masterful predators.

Day 4 (continued)

A young black-and-white cat came for a visit. I called her Esmeralda. She is gracious, slender, and long-legged. She acknowledged me with that signature rubbing motion that all cats do. I mentally said, "come back soon, Esmeralda", and she was off to the darkness of the night.

My own cat at home is super fat, lazy, and she bites me when she wants food. This ain't right, comrades!

Day 5.

In a show of solidarity with the Crucians, the St Johnians drive on the left side of the road. This is where the similarities end.

The Crucians are warm, fuzzy, and receptive. If you were to lick them, they would taste like honey mixed with nuts, curry, rum, and pepper. They are sweet, playful, poor, and naive. They talk and behave like small children. It's easy to engage Crucians in a conversation. All you need to do is to smile and say "Good Afternoon". From there on, you are best friends. I love you, Crucians!

The St Johnians are distant and reserved. If you were to lick them, they would taste like bottled water from a cooler. They are sophisticated, rich, alert, and a little bitter. St Johnians rarely say the traditional "Good Afternoon", preferring to substitute it with a terse and New England like cold and formal "Hello". My attempts to educate them on the virtues of preserving the Caribbean culture have failed miserably. After the "Hello", St Johnians would look straight through you, and you'll forever remain strangers.

Day 5 (continued)

These are goats. Ya, mon!

I love this spot with a big tree in the middle of the road. It's an effort to blend in, rather than to destroy.

Some people don't get that dramatic style sometimes sacrifices factual details for the sake of making interesting reading, but I and a number of others that don't ruffle so easily like it.

No, the point is that this is a relocation forum not a travel blog. As long as one understands that some of the factual details contained in this exercise are scrambled and aren't "factual" then all is well. But people read this forum for opinions and facts on living and working in the USVI.

This is under the Coconut Tree, so it belongs here just as much as - or even more so - than the dozens of other topics here that have absolutely nothing to do with the VI. I enjoy wanderer's posts. They may be closer to satire than hard fact, but they are a fun read.

Here is an exercise in logic.

1. Virgin Islanders love to talk about politics.
2. I love to talk about politics.
3. Therefore, I am a Virgin Islander.

If you are able to spot a flaw in this logical chain, you are ready to progress to the next exercise.

In 2009, Virgin Islanders got together in my beloved town of Frederiksted, St Croix, and signed off on the Constitution of the Virgin Islands. This curious document is 27 pages long, but I'll spare your time and summarize it.

==========================
Article 1, Section 1b:
No person shall be discriminated against on account of race, color, sex, gender, sexual orientation, place of birth, socio-economic class, origin, political [or] religious belief, age, or disability.

Article 3, Section 1a and 1b:
If you were bahn ya before June 28, 1932, or if you are a descendant of someone bahn ya before June 28, 1932, you don't pay any real estate taxes. Otherwise, we the people will tax you.

Article 5, Section 7c.
There shall be no more pirate parades on St Croix, because dem pirates were bad people who store the stolen goods on the island, so there ain't nothing to celebrate.
==========================

If you ever took the college level logic class, you'd quickly realize that Article 3 discriminates against certain Virgin Islanders based on their place of birth and origin, thus directly contradicting Article 1.

When this proposed constitution was submitted to the United States Congress, the Justice Department reviewed it. Apparently, there was someone with college education in the United States Justice Department, for the Virgin Islands Constitution was determined to be unconstitutional, based on the equal rights clauses, and returned back to Frederiksted with a note from the United States Attorney General, which asked, "Are you Crucians crazy or something?"

Ever since this incident, the St Thomians and St Johnians refer to the residents of St Croix as "dem crazy crucians".

For all of you property owners in Virgin Islands, I have a business proposition. For a small fee, I'll use my underworld connections in Frederiksted to come up with a document which would certify that you are a legitimate Ancestral Native Virgin Islander, going 25 generations back to Christopher Columbus. For an additional fee, I'll produce a document relating you to Amerigo Vespucci.

Today on the beach, I had a fortune to meet an Ancestral Native Virgin Islander, and we talked about the Virgin Island politics for about 2 hours. More on that later.

I know, you would not believe me, so ask any Crucian out there. This is Hannah Davis, an Ancestral Native Virgin Islander, who would be exempt from paying any real estate taxes in VI, if the constitution is approved. I don't like her navel, but otherwise she is a fine specimen of Afro-Caribbean descent.

This is under the Coconut Tree, so it belongs here

It was moved here from the relocation forum ...

While Ms. Davis was born on St. Thomas and as such is considered
a "Native Virgin Islander," her parents are from the USA and moved here prior to her birth. She cannot be considered an "Ancestral Native" since her parent's heritage is not of the Virgin Islands.
She is a beautiful and intelligent young woman.

While Ms. Davis was born on St. Thomas and as such is considered
a "Native Virgin Islander," her parents are from the USA and moved here prior to her birth. She cannot be considered an "Ancestral Native" since her parent's heritage is not of the Virgin Islands.

I must point out that the VI Constitution was rejected, and the terms defined in that constitution, such as "Native Virgin Islander" and "Ancestral Native Virgin Islander" have no legal weight of any kind.

This is under the Coconut Tree, so it belongs here

It was moved here from the relocation forum ...

Wise move!

While Ms. Davis was born on St. Thomas and as such is considered
a "Native Virgin Islander," her parents are from the USA and moved here prior to her birth. She cannot be considered an "Ancestral Native" since her parent's heritage is not of the Virgin Islands.

I must point out that the VI Constitution was rejected, and the terms defined in that constitution, such as "Native Virgin Islander" and "Ancestral Native Virgin Islander" have no legal weight of any kind.

Wow, none of us knew that - thanks so much for sharing.

Day 6.

I am forming my connections to the St Johnian underworld. Here on the island, the underworld consists of a few ganja dealers. The STX underworld is much more diverse.

Like every other piece of merchandise, ganja is more expensive here, compared to STX. But it smells the same, looks the same, and is packaged the same.

There are certain benefits in associating with the underworld. Here are two useful things I found out today as a result of that association:

1. It was pointed out to me that I look tense. This is absolutely true. The underworld has a good eye.
2. Wild donkeys are not pets. They kick. Some time ago, a female tourist on St John approached a male donkey, and for some reason, decided to pull the donkey's penis. The donkey kicked. What happened after was unclear to me, as the story was told using a thick St Johnian lingo.

Day 6 (continued).

A Rastafarian man told me today, pointing to the hills, "This is natural nature, mon". About 100 milliseconds later, my brain registered, "Tautology. Bad English. Lack of education".

I have a weakness. Things appear so pure, so crystal clear to me, so well illuminated, that I never doubt myself. I know exactly what things are, and I don't hesitate when making judgments or decisions. Clarity is the result of conquering fear. I've conquered fear. It took me 35 years to accomplish that. I've lived without fear for 10 years. But now clarity is my enemy. It's so bright and powerful that it blinds me. It's so bright out there that I can't see.

Natural nature is not a tautology. It means exactly what it says, "natural nature". It means that people are part of the nature. In the Western school of thought, it means "a place devoid of people". The USVI national park on St John is the implementation of this idea. For many years, the native people of St John lived their simple lives, fishing. When 2/3 of the island became national park, the natives can no longer live there, and they can no longer fish in their own Caribbean sea, because it's now protected by Babylon.

Day 7.

The moon looks different in here. It's illuminated by Sun from below, as opposed from the side. The effect is that if someone spun the moon around. The other side of the moon is visible, too. I am guessing it has to do with me observing it from close to equator, but I am not going to google it. I want it to be a mystery between me and the moon. I am a St Johnian and a Rastafarian now, so instead of intellectualizing about the relative position and velocity of the moon, I just want the moon to be part of the natural nature.

Day 7 (continued)

I knew that the offspring of a goat is called a kid, but what I didn't know was that the process of giving birth to a kid is called "kidding". This gives a totally new meaning to the phrase "Are you kidding me?".

This whole goat business turned out the mental debacle for me, because what I thought were goats turned out to be sheep instead. What's the process of giving birth to a sheep called? Shipping? Lambing?

Day 7 (continued).

I am finally starting to melt. A metamorphosis is taking place. The thoughts are no longer violently bouncing off the skull, but slowly flowing instead, taking their time. The cheeks and the mouth muscles feel like melting paraffin wax. The tears come out. It feels wonderful. I am no longer bitter about the constitution of virgin islands. I am irie now.

This is Francis Bay beach. It's all right, but my connection is forever with the Sandy Point beach in STX, which I nicknamed the "Shawshank Redemption Beach".

Donkeys on the Hansen Bay beach.