Sunday, November 21, 2010

Whether, Weather

It's Autumn in Bermuda and the weather changes here, too.  It is not unlike  Canada.  The leaves turn brown here--  because of windburn from a hurricane.  They begin to drop to the ground--hurricane, again.  Of course, a couple of weeks after a hurricane or a big blow, the leaves are all now green again and the hibiscus hedges and Birds of Paradise are in full bloom. The temperature drops---to  a chilly 73 degrees F. It's not all fun and games, though. With Autumn comes the wind and the rain. 

Funny thing about the rain, or any other weather, for that matter. You can't simply check the weather channel and then know how to dress for the day.  It really is a 'look out the window' kind of place.  Actually in this high-tech world, we check the radar on the computer before venturing out to work on the bike.  Since it is in real time, you can actually see the '10 minute window' when you are likely not going to be rained on.  Rain gear is packed in the bike.  When a single cloud decides to unload on you, there is really no time to pull over and put it on--you will be drenched; however that does not stop many people from pulling over to the side of the road, into the stone bus shelters to either escape the torrent or to pull on rain gear and venture out.  In a real downpour, there are literally rivers running down the street and the bottoms of the wheels will be submerged; it is hard to  see and the helmet visor has to be down or I breathe water.  Maybe there should be snorkels on helmets. This is usually shortlived--but not always.  It was on one of these days that I discovered the need to buy all new rain gear.

 
Kids finding shade at lunch
High winds, torrential rains quickly give way to a hot, sunny day. It is becoming increasingly difficult to know whether to wear Summer clothes or Fall clothes.  Sandals or rubber boots. Capris or rain pants. Tanktop or windbreaker. The mornings are a little bit chilly and sometimes showery.  The sun  comes out and it is a hot, summer day again.  Dressing in layers is the answer, but there is not a lot of storage on a bike for the discarded clothing.  There are dilemmas even in Paradise!  Schools have solved the wardrobe problem, though. It's November,  therefore students must wear their winter uniforms. Period. These consist of shirts (with necks buttoned!), ties, vests, polyester blazer, grey flannel trousers for the boys and green skirts for the girls.  The blazers must be worn at all times.  If the temperature climbs, they still must wear the  blazers.  Appearances trump practicality. It is a hard balance between  when to have the air conditioning on or off.  The kids are sweaty after  playing at lunch; I am sweaty at the most unusual times...  but I digress.

Bermuda is 22 square miles. 22 miles long and 1 mile at its widest. Not a lot of land mass there. This island is not influencing weather patterns--it is at the mercy of them! The good news, though, is that a system rarely lingers, it simply blows across the Atlantic. There are no prevailing winds that I have noticed. You can't tell where the weather comes from day to day. If it is  not from the south, then the beach by our house will be calm. That's really all I need to know.  As the weather changes, there is not a lot of difference in how I live my life. On  a rainy day, I wear special gear and   pull my visor down to get through the water. On a sunny day,    Oh, wait...

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Igor


Horseshoe Beach pre-Igor,
looking through the cut that
was carved by Fabian in 2003
  
Horseshoe Beach pre-Igor












The ocean foretold what we could expect from Igor.  Along the South Shore, the winds had created gigantic and powerful waves.  With a  name like Igor, it lumbered along, dragging its winds, pushing the waves ahead of it.  So we all went to look!  The two photos are of Horseshoe Beach--a normally calm beach that is filled with tourists from the cruise ships.  The waves were huge, the beach had virtually disappeared under the storm surge.

 We battened down the various hatches and  headed to The Compound to wait out Hurricane Igor.  It was truly a surreal experience to know that a potential disaster is approaching and to even know the time. We shopped, we prepared, we had lunch, we drank, we talked and talked and talked about it. It was all very civilized and calm. We heard many stories about Hurricane Fabian and how it caused horrendous damage in 2003.  Igor was forecast to be bigger, stronger and meaner. The Compound is a well-provisioned shelter in Bermuda specifically constructed to withstand the effects of all natural disasters. 

Kidding! It  is actually my sister's house as well as those of several of her friends.  We were graciously invited to spend the Hurricane with them  hunkered down, huddling in the basement with them.  Seriously, though, we ate, drank and played games. The only danger occurred at one point with many of us arguing over who had won the most points. Typically in the world of literature and film when someone or something named Igor approaches, we see villagers ready to do battle to protect their homes with torches and pitchforks.  The same was true of our Igor, only we were armed with flashlights and swizzle sticks.   


The Brae after Hurricane Igor
Although we spent the night in relative safety, a hurricane is still an awesome thing to behold.  There were sustained winds of 85 mph for hours.  100-135 mph were forecast to begin at 10:00 pm as it passed directly overhead. Sure enough, at 9:59 , we lost power!  We ventured out a few times to see just what  winds like that felt like.  As we headed from one house to another at about 11:00 pm, a strong gust came that literally lifted us off our feet.  If we had not all grabbed on to each other, I am sure we would have been blown right over.  Most of the Island lost power, there was some flooding, some boats that were damaged and lots of trees and branches down.  After returning home, we assessed our own damage.

Elbow Beach--gone! 


  Luckily the Category 3 had been downgraded and slightly changed course and Bermuda was exceptionally well prepared.  All in all, an exciting experience and thankfully, slightly anti-climactic.  Heading back to the beach to see what Igor had left behind was a stark reminder of what a monster can do before he shuffles off into the night.  He leaves nothing behind, he only takes.  Thankfully Bermuda's beauty continues no matter what happens!


Horseshoe Beach  post-Igor (see above)









Friday, September 17, 2010

It's pronounced 'eye-gor.'

“You must be Igor." No, it's pronounced 'eye-gor.'
“But they told me it was "ee-gor."
Well, they were wrong then, weren't they?
                                   --Young Frankenstein
(Thanks to Adrienne for the pic!)

Warwick Long Bay Friday Afternoon
It's probably wrong to be excited about an approaching hurricane, but there are not a lot of times when we actually experience the true fury of Nature.  We may not want to, but it will certainly be an experience.  We don't wish any ill  fortune to anyone, of course, but we are a little bit excited and a little bit nervous.  Since we moved here there have been two hurricane warnings, both downgraded to Tropical Storms and both of which never really arrived.  We were beginning to think Bermudians are just overly dramatic. 

Hurricane Igor will be here Sunday night and all reports are calling it a monster.  Of course it is, it's called Igor, for Heaven's sake. I wonder who at the National Hurricane Centre had the brilliant idea of naming a hurricane Igor?  Have they not heard of self-fulfilling prophecy?   It is supposed to be a direct hit and is large and slow-moving and so has a longer period of time to wreak havoc. 


Warwick Long Bay Friday afternoon

We've been watching  the Bermuda Weather Service for updates.  It doesn't just show temperature, pollen count and Humidex, it shows how high the seas are inside and outside the reef and wind speed. On Saturday, by the way, they are forecast to be 4-7 feet inside the reef and 20-40 feet outside the reef.  Hmmmmm.  40 feet???? 
We live only a short walk away from Elbow Beach so we went to the beach a couple of days ago for a swim.  The ocean was just beginning to feel the effects of the approaching storm so we cut our swim short as the  waves got bigger and more unpredictable.  The sand here is pink, beautiful and very fine--almost like flour. When you are tumbled in a wave close to shore, the sand invades every part of you--even parts you haven't seen or been aware of in some time. For days sand leeches out of your pores and ... elsewhere.

Information is everywhere on how to properly prepare for Igor.  Most of it involves such practical tips as:  turn off all electronics, close the shutters, move all outdoor furniture, keep the water drain on the roof clear, fill the bathtub with water, turn off the toilet.  Turn off the toilet?  It operates on an electric pump, so if power goes off, the toilet can continue to run and drain the water supply.  We must have a bucket and rope to lower into the water tank, of course.  The best preparations involve the Hurricane Party.  Although everyone is certainly taking it seriously, there is also a festive air.  Bermudians have been through this before and know to anticipate perhaps weeks without power.  Groups gather at the home of those with a generator, a barbecue, or a gas (propane) stove.  Nowhere, however, have they  given information on how to do one's hair without power. School has already been cancelled for Monday and Tuesday. This is good because being on a scooter in high winds is scary, and my hair without a hair dryer may be even scarier! 

All in all we are as prepared as we can be.  We are on high ground so we won't experience serious flooding, but are likely to have water come in through the windows and doors.  Andre  has been fastening windows, moving furniture, blocking likely sources of flooding.  I have been buying ice, diet coke, Swizzle Mix and Dark Rum.  We all have a part to play.


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

To Teach or To Beach?

Two words to describe Bermuda:  hot and damp. It's no big surprise that it is hot in Bermuda.  The temperature.  The people. The scenery.  This is one HOT Island!   Being an Island, it is surrounded by water, but not just any water.  Turquoise, clear , warm, wonderful water.  Combine these two qualities--and voila--humidity!  Every day is about 30 degrees with at least 80% humidity--and this is when it is sunny!  There is a fine sheen of sweat as soon as we step outside in the morning.  As soon as the sun rises, so does our internal temperature. Clothes are sticky, hair is flatter than Regina, scooter seats will raise burn welts on bare legs.  Shoes get mouldy in the closet.  Yes, mouldy.  I have had many reasons to go shoe shopping in my life, but I am eternally grateful for this  one.  Any reason is a good one.


Jobson's Cove

And yet none of that matters because Bermuda also has two other words:  beach and air conditioning!  (okay 3 words). Oh, and rum--four words.  Most every place has air conditioning.  As much as I love the sun and the heat, I find myself stopping into various businesses just to get a blast of AC.  A much better solution is to head to the beach.  The sand is pink and powdery.  Long beaches with some surf on the right days or small little coves with gentle slopes.  They are truly the world's best beaches. 
Most of our time has been spent exploring, scootering, reading and beaching.  I knew that  vacation time was soon coming to a close and my job would begin soon so we were cramming everything in that we could.  New Teacher Orientation was scheduled for August 26--I had no other information beyond that.    Luckily, I got a call from the Department of Education.  They had lost some forms and needed me to come in and re-submit them.  So on our way to the beach, I dropped by and was asked why I was not at the in-service for new teachers.   I had my contract with me and looked at it again.  No--it clearly said Thursday, August 26.  Today was Tuesday August 24.   “Um um,” the woman at the counter  said. “Aauungh,” she said. Bermudian translation—“Oh, I don’t think so…” Apparently there had been a change in plans.  New teachers began that morning and were to be at an orientation session for the next 4 days...  So here I was, bathing suit, shorts, helmet head, whipping André from the back of the scooter to drive at least 36 km/h.  I arrived 3.5 hours late for my first day at work and was expected to be there for the remainder of the week. Summer vacation came to a quick end, but thankfully Summer here is endless, but so is the endless bureaucracy and lack of information.

Rather than gradually getting my feet wet in the system here, I was thrown into the deep end!

And so now I am a teacher again!  It is the second week of school and the temperature has not dropped appreciably. I am one of the lucky ones with AC in my classroom. This is good because it means that the printers and photocopiers will work because otherwise the humidity causes endless jamming. Quite a departure from Canada where it is the stupidity that causes the jamming. But again I digress.

After 4 days of new teacher in-service for teachers new to the profession and new to the Island, I was treated to 2 more days of school-based professional development, followed by 2 paid days for teachers to get their classrooms and lessons ready. Now that was a nice surprise that we are not able to do in BC. One of the most striking things that occurred to me in both of these sessions, was that the same topics were offered, the same complaints were heard, the same questions were raised, the same enthusiasm was there as was the same confusion. There is a certain amount of comfort in knowing that our two systems have so many similarities.   There was the person who asked  lengthy and personal questions regardless of the topic.  There was the person who had a negative comment about everything that was said.  There were the presenters who were excited about their topic--but had forgotten how to teach grown-ups.  There were the bright-eyed and bushy-tailed new teachers who couldn't wait to get into the classroom; there were others who were terrified. There was great information.  There was repetitive information. Essentially similar to every professional development session I have attended in any country.

What made it most interesting, though, was listening to the all the people in the room.  Most of them  were Bermudian, a few who had been hired from the Caribbean--and me. Thank goodness I have some facility with language because before doing anything, I first had to learn to understand Bermudian. I was told to not let the students 'suck their teeth at me'. "Don't worry", I thought! When trying to get an outside line from my classroom, I was told, "De pheun don' wark".  And NEVER, EVER greet someone with just a smile or a 'Hi'.  You must say Good Morning or Good Afternoon or risk no service (sahrvice) or making it clear you are the rudest person on the Island.

The M-1 students (Middle 1--Grade 6) all line up in the courtyard before Advisory (Homeroom).  We sing the school song. We recite the school motto. We say a prayer. We go over how to be polite.  We say 'Good morning, Sahr, or Good Ahfternoon, Ma'am.  We do not say 'Hi', like we are common.  We practice how to stand up when a teacher enters the room and how to greet them.  We then go to Advisory where the Advisors check the uniforms to make certain that they are wearing the right socks at the right height, that there is no nail polish, that gentlemen have ONE earring, in their LOBE, and it is a gold or silver stud ONLY.  Young ladies can wear two earrings, one in each ear lobe and also only studs.

My ability with language learning has been put to good use once I started in the classroom.  Typically I make a concerted effort to memorize all student names.  Memorizing generally involves a great deal of repetition and connecting the new information with something you already know.  So when learning student names, I might be reminded that Thomas looks like my nephew Tommy; or that  Taylor dresses nicely (tailor).  Having been an educator for 25 years, I was hardly nervous (nahrvous) on the first day.  I was greeted by 12 students in green and khaki uniforms all truly excited to learn (lahrn) French!  really!!!!  And then I started to learn their names.  D'Ziah (Deeziah), D'Niah(Dee niah) --they sit beside each other, Jai-Zel, N'koya, Satashi, Jaquori, Wytiko, Nakyra , D'Undre (pronounced DEE-Andray) and his sister, D'Andra (DeeAndra), Jalani, Jezardhai.  I found myself wondering if people here name their children after a rousing game of Boggle.

At the end of the day, surrounded by faces excited to lahrn French, being excruciatingly polite (for the most part), I close the shutters, turn off the AC, set off the Roach Bomb, get on my scooter, and head to the beach!  




Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Born to Be Mild!

Bermuda is one of the few countries that will not accept a driver's license from other countries.  If you are visiting, however, you can rent a scooter.  There is no such thing as a rental car.  Can't be done.  If you have a work permit, you can get a Bermuda license and can purchase a car or a bike.  What you can't do, if you have a work permit, is rent a bike.  So, in order to get around this amazing island, you can depend on the kindness of friends, take a taxi, hop on  the 'loser cruiser', or get your license.

We took our Learner's Test yesterday--the written portion. The driving test is tomorrow.  Yikes.  I have more sympathy for the 16 year olds out there.  I can't remember the last time I took any kind of test!  Janice had sent us the Driver's Manual so that we could study it even before we arrived here. Ironically, given my chosen profession, it's been a while since I've had to do any studying.  André claims this may  be his first time ever!  Of course, I know about study techniques, test taking strategies and the like.  I have even given workshops, seminars and courses in it.  What was unanticipated was how to study a manual that was written by people who choose to use seventeen words when one will do.  Oh sure, it is entertaining reading, but if you  simply want to find out how to do something--not gonna happen!
         At night, always drive well within the limits of  your lights. When your headlights are
      dipped or extinguished be especially careful.  If you are dazzled, slow down even to a standstill...

 Dazzled?  Is this for those occasions when George Clooney suddenly appears before me?  What really dazzles me are the kids on the bikes that drive 100 kmh, WHILE TEXTING! As God is my witness, I will never complain about driving in Vancouer again.

First Day: Scooter Virgin
The rules of the road are the same as everywhere with a couple of notable exceptions.  We drive on the left side here.  You don't want to forget that one.  Remembering important things can be done in a variety of ways--acronyms, reciting, or mnemonics--a kind of memory aid, like a little poem.  I have been told the best way to remember which side of the car to get into and which side of the road to drive on is best remembered as "Bitch to the ditch."  It is important to note that it was not André who said this and in fact, I have his assurance that he will erase it from his memory!  You can pass only on a solid white, not a solid yellow or a double white and the speed limit for the whole Island is 35 kmh. Oh!  And according to section (66) sub-section (b):
   It is against the law to sound your horn except in the interest of safety, or to play your wireless set-(Don't even get me started on the grammar in THAT phrase!!!!)

It is not a piglet, it's  a hog!
So the horn thing is interesting.  Like anywhere there are the written  rules, and the practical application of the written rules.  Using your horn  in actuality is  for things like:
"Hey!  How you doin'?"
"How's your Mom?"
" Come on over later!"
"Nice socks!"
"Who was that girl I saw you with the other night?"

We purchased a 150CC scooter from a friend of my sister's and have been practising in the driveways and private roads before taking our driving test.  Who knew that turning to the right is more difficult than turning to the left?  Perhaps this is a metaphor for our politics...  At any rate, although the bus service is pretty good, riding the '56 seat coupe' is getting old.   They are fairly efficient, depending on the route, but you take your life in your hands!  There is even a T-shirt that says "I survived the big pink bus". It is not a hyperbole.  They are big, they are most definitely pink and survival is not always assured.

And so tomorrow we are off to TCD to take our road test on our scooter. How we get there is anothr dilemma. You have to take the test on your own bike, but you are not allowed to drive the bike on public roads to get it there with only a Learner's Permit.  Hmmmmm....If we were other people , we would say, "Born to be Wild! Let's just do it!  Break the rules!Ride the damn bike down there!"     But we are not other people. We are more 'Born to be Mild'. Although we are smart and we have friends already--we'll figure it all out.  It may cost us a few bottles of Gosling's Dark Rum, first though!

Sunday, August 15, 2010

"Your tale, sir, would cure deafness." The Tempest, 1. 2

There is a fair amount of historical and literary evidence to show that Shakespeare's The Tempest is based on the founding of Bermuda in 1609, when the Sea Venture ran aground on its way to the Jamestown Colony.  One of the characters in Tempest is Ariel,  the sprite, or fairy, that is released from being imprisoned in a tree by a witch by the shipwrecked Prospero, who requires and exploits his loyalty to him.

We have been house sitting for friends of my sister's at Surf Song.  It is on the South Shore--where most of the best beaches are located.  Although there is no beach attached to the house, it is right on the water.  A quick climb over the rocks to either the right or left will bring us to a small, pink sand beach.  To the left is Ariel Sands.  This is a resort that at one point was owned by Michael Douglas and his family. Yes, that Michael Douglas!  His mother is Bermudian.  For all sorts of good reasons, I suppose, Ariel Sands is now deserted and abandoned.  The tourist season is not year-round and the Island cannot support a resort without clientele; Bermuda is expensive; hired workers must be Bermudian and be paid appropriately.  In a different country, a large corporation can build a resort with cheap infrastructure, and staff it with underpaid employees.  Some would call The Tempest an allegory of colonialism. If so, then Ariel may be a fitting tribute to a resort in a colony that is anything  but 'Third World'.
Palapas to the left, pool to the right

The beach has mostly been reclaimed by storms and hurricanes. The palapas are still on the beach, but the palm leaves have long since blown away.  The cottages stand empty. The pool is slowly being reclaimed by the ocean and is inhabited by a variety of marine life.  And Ariel, memorialized in bronze 50 metres from shore, appears to be fleeing the decay.  
 There are two pools, flush with the ground, bordering on the rocks and reefs in the ocean.  The sea is held back by a cement retaining wall that is only visible if you are standing on it.  The end of the pool was left in a naturalized state, surrounded by rock walls.  Because of the wave action, the pools continue to be refreshed with sea water and so are still clear.  What is most striking is the number of fish that must have been swept over the side and into the pool. The bottom is now strewn with sand, rocks, urchins, some coral and many small colourful fish!



Sergeant Majors in the pool
 Today we went exploring and decided to go for a swim and some snorkeling.  Since I still can't get my ear wet, and André is no water sprite (unlike Ariel!), we paddled around on the beach and then went into the abandoned pool. Ever since I ruptured my ear drum, André has been as concerned as I have been frustrated.  Any time I am even near the water, he is worried  a ROGUE WAVE will hit me in the ear.  I think my on-going deafness is more of a source of frustration to him than even to me.  I wonder if he will catch on that sometimes, in the way of wives, it's not that I am deaf, it's that I am no longer listening?


It was Heaven for André as he could snorkel in relative calm and safety and I was also able to see the fish without getting my head wet.   There were a surprisingly large number of small and brightly coloured fish in the pool.  I have since learned that among these were: Sergeant Majors, Bermuda Chub, Cardinal Fish.  Outside the pool on the reef, blue Parrotfish were easily visible.  These may be the prettiest fish you can see snorkeling. All was perfect until we spotted a fairly large fish -which I believe was a  Spadefish--who thought my ankle bracelet was a tasty piece of seaweed and kept nibbling at it.  Quite amusing until he tired of the game and took a chunk out of my ankle.  I'm having a hard time convincing André that ROGUE PIRANHA are not indigenous to Bermuda.  In an interesting side note, André was able, for a brief time, to duplicate Ariel's flight over the water.

A small adventure today.  Another tomorrow. And then another.  Even here in Paradise it is easy to become complacent and to slip into old habits.  But every day requires some kind of adventure whether exploration, physical, intellectual, literary or seek and destroy missions for ant colonies!

"We are such stuff as dreams are made on, rounded with a little sleep"  The Tempest Act 4, scene 1, 148–158

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Week One or André versus the Ants

I will try and record my impressions and experiences during this year abroad. For the teachers (and control freaks and sisters) who read this: it is a free flowing thought process and first draft.  No commenting on grammar, style or voice allowed!  You know who you are! (I have yet to learn how to edit a blog).

And so we arrived safe and sound.  First stop:  Swizzle Inn!  Swizzle is one of Bermuda's national drinks, the other being a Dark and Stormy.  Swizzle can be made with a variety of fruit juices and dark rum, but I actually prefer the mix.  We are staying at The Brae, built in the 1700s.  All houses seem to have a name here, only recently acquiring street numbers.  It makes me think what the name of our house in White Rock would be?  Dust Bunny Inn?  Watering Hole?  But I digress.  We are house-sitting for Diana Hyde who spends most of her time in Maryland.  Her daughter, Anne, lives on an adjacent property and has been extremely  hospitable.  We live downstairs primarily and will share a kitchen with Diana when she is on the Island.  The reality is that we spend most of our time on the patio, deck, lanai, as the weather is more than conducive to being outdoors.  So far it has been very hot, very humid and very wonderful!

Elbow Beach is a 10 minute walk away.  We have been in the water at least twice everyday.  In the Summer months it is almost necessary to cool off.  Unfortunately, my plans for swimming every day and learning to dive immediately have been put on hold.  I have perforated my eardrum after a severe infection and it may take some time to heal.  So far the sight seeing has included a trip to the hospital!How banal to get Swimmer's ear and have it deteriorate like this--the last time I injured myself in Bermuda, at least it was doing something exciting like body-surfing.  I will need a better story for my poor, pathetic, deaf and painful ear.

House-sitting seems to be the way of the Island.  Apparently there is property crime here and since Bermudians are great travellers, they prefer their house to be lived in, rather than standing empty.  Even though we have a permanent house sit at the Brae, we are at the moment house-sitting for friends of Janice for the next 3 weeks.  This house, Surf Song, is the antithesis of The Brae--new, modern, with a kitchen out of  House and Home. The Brae  would be better featured in Historical Homes. The house is right on  the ocean, on South Shore, where all the beaches are located.  Just a short walk either to the right or left brings us to a small sandy beach.  At the moment there is a weak Tropical Storm--Colin-- so swimming is not a good idea.

We arrived just prior to Cup Match--a 2 day holiday for a cricket 'grudge match' between the opposite
ends of the Island, Somerset and St. George's.  The actual holidays have other, more civically responsible reasons, but really it is a reason for some to travel and some to party!  Cup Match  is really about playing Crown and Anchor.  They give you money to play with and provide you with free Swizzle as long as you play.  It's almost as if they believe the odds are favour of the House...  It rained a warm, tropical downpour while we were there.  So hard we could have showered. 

Rain is appreciated here as it is the only source of fresh water.  All the roofs are designed so that rain run-off collects in a tank.  Since prior to our arrival there had been a drought, everyone was happy about the 'tank rain', as it's called.  When the tank gets low or empty, residents can either order water from a truck or pay a monthly fee to be hooked up to a water line that is used only in times of drought.  We have a water line at The Brae, but there is also an extra tank, so there should be no problem for us.  Having said that, there are small adjustments to daily life when  water is precious.  No long showers, of course; water off while shaving; and 'If it's yellow let it mellow, if it's brown, flush it down' is the motto.

The most striking thing we've noticed in the differences in daily life is how close to nature we live--or, perhaps, how far removed from it we are at home.  Although we are not chopping our own wood, or hunting our food, we are battling the elements to a degree.We have been told it is a losing battle.  Ants are pervasive.  tiny, ubiquitous, persistent.  If any food whatsoever is left out, the ants will find it.  They get into every home--regardless of the level of cleanliness or construction.  They will find a point of entry and march, almost single file, along a specific route to the food source, and march out along the same route. The only thing to do is clean up, wipe up all the time.  Not a bad thing, I suppose!

There are some remedies that we have tried.  Insecticides, of course, but that has its limitations--the least of which is poisoning ourselves.  There are various commercial products, but the most interesting is chalk.  We have heard that ants will not cross a chalk line.  At a dinner party, the theory was tested by drawing a line of chalk across the ant parade.  Sure enough, they began to get confused and disperse.  In a cruel move, a maze was drawn and we watched them get confused and angry!  Have I mentioned that we don't have a TV set up yet?  Bermuda entertainment!!! André has taken it upon himself to do battle.  This occurred after I left a dish of ice cream on the counter one night.  André versus the Ants--literary reference #1.

So far we have only seen one cockroach.  When insecticide was ineffective, I put a leash on it and called it 'Archie'--literary reference #2.  We've since been told we should get a Bible.  I thought perhaps this was in reference to the coming end of the world and the meek cockroaches who may inherit it.  But no.  It seems that dropping something the size and weight of the Bible from a height of abut 4 feet is the only sure way to kill them.