Miracle cure for Mondays

Sunday and Mondays have long been my least favourite days of the week. I don't like Sundays because of the anticipation and anxiety surrounding the next day. It feels like the mournful last day of summer, the end of something good. And Mondays... well that needs little explanation. In an effort to re-invent these days, Blake and I have found the best remedy. On Sundays we head to the beach at 4:00. The tourists have started to head back to their hotels by that point, and the beach is quiet and calm. The more overcast the weather, the better. There is nothing more beautiful than sitting on a sandy beach under the dark grey and navy blue clouds that float above the turquoise water. We claim a spot in front of a condo complex and next to the Marriot Hotel, so that we can watch the visitors play in the water, but still have our own peaceful spot. We sip lattes and watch the sun go down while reading a good book, or floating with the colourful fish. Sometimes when we are ambitious we will go for a sea swim, but mostly we just sit and talk. Once the sun slips behind the horizon we sneak over to the Marriot and jump in the hot tub for a soak before heading home for our late supper. There is nothing more relaxing!
This past Monday we also found a cure for the worst day of the week as well. Our friends, Brett & Sarah, had us and another couple (Kate & Lachie) over for a glass of wine and a forbidden campfire on their secret secluded beachfront. Under the incredible canopy of stars, and a very bright Venus, we enjoyed our wine and our great new friendships which are so bittersweet, since we all know this brief period in our lives won't last forever. As we laid out in the sand and the waves pounded the shore mere feet away, we chatted about sports and music and travel; anything but the future, which at this point is so uncertain for all of us. When we got home I was almost surprised to find that I smelled of campfire. Blake opted to have a quick shower, but I relished the smell. It reminded me of home and summertime. Mostly it makes me remember Rachel and Heather, but I also can't help but think of Lori's backyard campfires last year too. Ahhhh, the side effects of the current lifestyle we have chosen mean that we will always be missing something, but the rich experiences we get to partake in are worth it. Like I was telling Blake yesterday, sometimes I feel like life is just too short, there are so many experiences I want to have, and what seems like so little time! However, I would not ever want to switch my life with anyone else's. I absolutely adore this life and can't wait to see what else is in store!!! (Although I'd still like to find a way to eliminate Mondays!)

Who's counting? A rant you may wish to skip...

It has been 11 days of 10 hours each,a half hour lunch if I am lucky, no breaks, two Deep Woods Mosquito Repellent cans, 1/2 of a skintastics OFF spray can, 3/4 of a Neutrogena Faces suncream and a full bottle of Ocean Potion Sun Screen and I am at my wits end. 11 says of rich spoiled kids complaining about the heat, the mosquitos, the chickens, the pool temperature and the movie choices. 11 days of "Miss, when do we get to go in the pool?" or "Teacher... teacher.... teacher.... TEACHER" screamed by four year olds with the remains of their lunch smeared across their face. It's not that I haven't been around kids before, and it is not that the idea of summer camp does not appeal to me, but between 17 kids aged 4-12 (who chose these ages?), interminable work days, crazy speedo lady changing the plans every single morning-while sometimes forgetting to tell me, or worse- stealing our transportation, and a coworker thats personal life I know way too much about, I am going to be certifiably crazy by the end of summer! Okay, that was my rant. I feel better already. The main purpose of this blog was not to complain about leading a summer camp, nor another dig at my employer, but merely as a reason for the lack of correspondence with immediate family and friends this summer.By the time I get home every night, I am beyond exhaustion and can only think of falling face first into our supremely comfortable bed and not waking until the next weekend. Unfortunately I have realized that this dream is not always realistic, and there is supper to make, a house to be cleaned and errands to run.
So if my emails, calls and skype chats are lacking, then please forgive me!!!! The job actually makes teaching seem easy. At least when I taught I got my summers off, had the kids for 6.5 hours, had a 45 minute lunch, a 15 minute recess and a nice office to bury myself in should need arise. I am so thankful for this experience though, as there are no doubts in my mind that I miss teaching like crazy and I feel nearly giddy with relief and excitement when I think of teaching for the rest of my career. It sometimes takes experiences such as this one to realize what you really want in life. I came to this island not knowing if I wanted to teach again. This was to be my career break- and break it is....as in nearly breaking my soul into miniscule pieces.... (Okay, maybe a little dramatic, but somedays it feels like that). I have missed the classroom from day one, and I can't wait to get back into my own again. So, even though there are 28 days of this excruciatingly painful camp left, I will remain grateful that it has led me to a conclusion about my career, as well as a super high tolerance to mosquitos and whiny 4 year olds.

PS- too tired to post pictures for this blog :)

Pub Crawl

Pub crawls have never really been my thing. In fact, I have only ever been on one, and that ended with my friend Melanie and I, beyond our limits, dressed up as a witch and princess, stuck in West Edmonton Mall at 3am without a ride home in the blustry snow. Memorable, but not something I would like to repeat. So seven years later I figured that maybe I should see if I can't improve upon my prior experience and give it another go. Last weekend was Nikki and Ian's going away pub crawl. For two individuals who have done nearly every imaginable trip, event, attraction and show on the island, we figured we should make this a crawl to remember with a flavourful mix of ex-pat and local bars. The evening began at KPMG, where we all drove off in a 26 seater bus jam packed with restless accountants on a Friday night. It wasn't until we were a few blocks away that we realized one of the girlfriends had been forgotten... and it wasn't her boyfriend who figured it out either (he was sleeping on the couch for awhile after that). With a complete count we headed off to a bar called The Office, which was unremarkable except for the fact that we found a fast food restaurant none of us knew in the back parking lot... Cayman random. After a rum with a splash of diet coke, all 26 of us decided we should drive to a co-worker's house to rouse him out, since he had clearly told everyone he didn't want to come. We all unloaded and surrounded the premises and were finally able to lure him out. Now in an overcrowded bus we zipped out of the parking lot, cut off a bike rider who ran into the back of the bus and stalked us all the way to the next bar where he climbed on board to scream at our drive. There I ran into some kids I had taught swim lessons to, as well as a member of the gym where I work. Trying my hardest to be coherent I carried on some sort of conversation about which I have no memory. We quickly boarded the bus, where Joanna and I found a bottle of Pimms hidden in the back seat... bad news. By Merengue we were pouring out of the bus. This local bar did not live up to it's name, as the only music it played was old country and had a dance floor large enough to accommodate five bus loads of crazy accountants. The fifth bar was a pleasant surprise. A large outdoor dance floor and bar located next to the airport, playing loads of Top 40 and containing a nice mix of nationalities. We made a rather fuzzy mental note to return again. The next three bars were a complete blur, since they were all located on the very sketchy and low-income "Eastern Ave." Archie's Disco Bar, Blue Marlin and something that included the word "dump" seem like the most plausible names of these haunts. One had a goldfish tank in which several scared and deaf fish were perched upon a rickety shelf that vibrated with the music. The reggae they had been playing turned quickly to "I'm a Barbie Girl" by Aqua (apparently white girls are supposed to love it). At this stop a 15ft beer flag was stolen and hoisted on to the bus. At several of the seedy bars we were glared at by the locals sitting on their stools. However, we quickly found that the bartenders loved us and our cash and many offered us deals if we would only stay longer! The last bar of the night (well at least the last for this girl ) was Triple Crown- back in familiar territory. I am told I got up and sang a karaoke song with some girls (there is photo proof) but I can't remember which it was. At this point I told Blake it was time to leave and we began the lengthy 3 km walk back in to town, with a slight detour to a secret beach we discovered off mainstreet and a quick baseball session with a breadfruit we found on the road and a telephone pole. All in all, I can now see why I am not a pub crawl kind of girl- for the sad fact alone that I only had 5 drinks in total over a 6 hour period... but this pub crawl will hold as many memories as the last!

pictured above: breadfruit baseball, ghetto goldfish, stolen flag, bar number 2!

Good-byes and Caymanian classification

One of the down sides about living on such a small close-knit island is the good-byes. Friendships form quickly here, especially when a new start group of 37 people begin at the same time. Whenever a holiday comes about, we celebrate with our friends. All of our little successes like raises, new jobs and anniversaries are all celebrated with our "Caymanian Family." Since we are all without any relatives on the island, bonds form quickly and we act as each other's families. I'll return to this thought in a minute, but first...

As I quickly found out from the locals I work with, everyone on the island falls into one of four categories. There are Caymanians, white Caymanians, Jamaicans and Ex-pats. Caymanians are classified as anyone who "looks" Caribbean and has lived here for more than two generations. White Caymanians are legal residents and citizens of Cayman who look to have some white ancestry. The distinction between these two groups always baffles me. Jamaicans are, of course, Jamaicans. However, the prejudice on this island places them into their own group since most of the crime here is blamed on them, as well as the poverty. Technically, they too are ex-pats like me, and some are even Caymanian, but, just like the classic "one-drop" rule, one ounce of Jamaican ancestry automatically places you in this category. Finally there are the Ex-pats. Even if you were born on the island, if your parents migrated here, you are still an ex-pat. I am astounded that this island so neatly places everyone in to categories, but it makes me appreciate Canada's multi-cultural attitude more.

So, back to my original thought; because we are so neatly profiled into one quarter of the population, and because we have no family here, we forge strong relationships. This weekend is our friend Nikki and Ian's last weekend on island. They are moving back to England and then on to Sydney. I met Nikki shortly after we had arrived. She is a such a blast. She talks non-stop and reminds me of the female version of Austin Powers. The strangest things happen to Nikki. One day I was grocery stopping and ran into her being accosted by a tall man in the supermarket. I ran up to save her, only to find her continuing to chat with the toothless smelly guy. She claimed that they were friends and he stalked her regularly as she rode her bike through town. Then there was the night that Ian left her at the bar. She had to ride her bike in the rain 30 minutes back home. However, the chain on her bike broke in town, and she was forced to sneak into the Port Authority, where she was promptly reprimanded for her stealthy entry. She begged the men there to fix her bike, and they spent an hour chatting before sending her and her mended bike on the road. She arrived home to find the scooter and her derelict boyfriend on the front step because she had the house keys. Instead of letting loose on Ian, she felt bad for having the keys! Her favorite topic of conversation is her noisy neighbour up stairs. The one who engages in incredibly loud and vivid "nightime" activities with her on again off again boyfriend. It wasn't until I actually visited her during the day, that I heard the tremendous clomping sound of the woman thundering around the flat upstairs wearing heels. I could finally appreciate NIkki's rants!

Nikki and Ian have made a great effort to get out and see all Cayman has to offer. They are constantly on the go, and we see them nearly everywhere we go, whether planned or not. We will miss them greatly, but realize that without Nikki working, it is just too hard for them to make it here.

Good-byes are inevitable when you live on a tiny island were workers are imported and most people are kicked out as part of what is called "the rollover" process every 7 years. However, I am grateful for the chance to meet such incredible people, and we still have so many friends on island. No doubt that we have formed friendships that will last Blake and I throughout our lives, and of course, we will have free accommodation in nearly every continent in the world when we travel!

Pictured above: A picture of Nikki holding her Banoffee Pie, and us girls!

Cayman from a different perspective

Hello?

Well, it took 6 months but Natalie was finally able to get me to sit down and write my first blog. Its hard to believe we've been here for 6 months. It seems like just last week we woke up at 4 in the morning and drove to the Edmonton airport in the -30 winter, and were greeted 12 hours later with +30 temperatures. As everyone already knows that it is hot down here, I will avoid sounding like my father and will try not talking about the weather.

So how am I enjoying island life? Overall I really like it down here and I know we made the right decision in coming here. We have only been here for 6 months and already we have met so many new friends from all around the world, and have done and learned so many new things that I never imagined possible. I have gone from panicking while snorkelling in 4 feet of water, to scuba diving down to 100 feet one day and swimming a 1 mile sea swim another, all without drowning. I have also gone 6 months (with the exception of going to Miami for a weekend) without drinking a Starbucks coffee everyday. I didn't realize why I never had any spending money back home until I did the math (Average $3 a day x 6 months x 30 days).

I have had a lot of people ask how my job is going? This is a tough one as on any given day, or any given time within the same day, I have a different answer.

The work is really busy. It makes me realize how good I had it with KPMG back in Edmonton. In Edmonton things were busy and I definitely had periods where I had multiple (2 maybe 3) jobs on the go. But down here has been ridiculous! About a week ago I counted how many different audits I had on the go and even I was amazed to find that I had 7 different jobs on the go.

However, work has been going good and one of the most attractive things about my job are the opportunities for advancement that exist. I started in our department with 6 other new senior accountants, and at that time our department had 8 senior accounts that were one year ahead of us. Since we started, all the people one year ahead of us have left KPMG, which means means that there is a lot of opportunity for promotions. So needless to say Natalie and I may be faced with some tough decisions in a year about whether to stay, move back to Canada or go elsewhere????

So what do I do all day? I audit hedge funds. Hedge funds are the same concept as a Mutual Fund (a bunch of people pooling their money together to invest into whatever, stocks, bonds, etc). The exception is that investors have to have a minimum net worth of $1,000,000, which means that no one I know is eligible. Anyways, these "Hedge Funds" require an annual financial statement audit and thats where I come in. I would go into more detail, but trust me its really not that interesting. Im sure you would rather hear that "HEAVY RAINFALL AND STRONG GUSTY WINDS WILL BE POSSIBLE OVER GRAND CAYMAN ISLAND AND MUCH OF THE NORTHWESTERN CARIBBEAN SEA OVER THE NEXT DAY OR SO." At least I know my dad will find this more interesting.