2012

I haven't written for a while because something in me broke on New Year's Eve, and I'm just now fixing it...

Last Sunset of 2011

I've never in my life seen anything like the New Year's Eve party here.People from every part of the island head to the west coast around sunset and set up camp. Food, wine, homemade rum, candles...even giant dining tables chairs in some cases. At certain places along the beach, some radio stations set up stages, and a DJ plays a really weird mix of techno and Motown oldies. (...?) We are all dancing. We are all lighting lanterns and casting them into the dark sky, loaded with big wishes for the new year. My first attempt at a lantern ended up in flames, but I got better the second and third time. They drift up into the sky and there are hundreds of them...after a while you could only distinguish them from the billions of strongly lit stars by the slight orangish color. Meanwhile, families are setting off fireworks over our heads, some go amiss and smack right into the calm ocean water.

The people arrive...

Fireworks!

At midnight, the fireworks pick up and we strip down to our bathing suits and leap into the ocean. Drunk people all around us are splashing salty ocean water at each other and screaming "bonne année!! bonne annéeeee!!" under the light of the fireworks. We hug. I step on something squishy in the ocean and I knew it was one of those giant slug things i see all over the place when I snorkel. I didn't touch the bottom anymore after that. But it was beautiful, and the moon was smiling down at us, and the stars and  lanterns were gleaming and flying and my heart was pounding from the excitement of it all.

Then things started to become really fast and blurry...too much wine and too much dancing and suddenly I got sick of everything. I mean everything. I didn't want to be here, on this stupid beach, stranded on a tiny island, far, far away. I missed my friends and family, all of whom were carrying on with their own lives and celebrations and didn't have much time to talk with me during Christmas or before the year ended. I missed my dog,who was off being dumb and ignorantly happy somewhere in Texas. And then I got angry. Angry because I still don't have a clue what I'm going to do with my life, or where to go from here. Angry because I have to fight all the time to be understood, because my roommate never leaves me alone, because this island is so damn suffocating. Angry because I'm sick of having to be so dependent...not being able to drive anywhere or go out when I want to, or even just be on my own for five damn seconds. Angry because I thought I would feel completely free here and instead, in some ways, I feel even more caged.

The sun was rising on the new year when I got to my room in really bitter tears. I starting throwing everything I owned into my suitcases and I was hell-bent on going to the airport and catching the first plane off this island. After an hour or so of my tantrum, I realized that I was just tired and probably still a little drunk, and instead of going to the airport I fell asleep on the wood floor.

When I woke up the next day, the anger melted away and then I was just sad. I ruined my own New Year's, I discovered that I had some major issues in my head, but I did not feel like doing anything about any of it. Instead, I wanted to lay in bed and feel sorry for myself. And that's exactly what I did for the next five days. To prove that I did nothing but stay in bed, I can tell you that I finished the last three books of the Harry Potter series in a week and watched the movies after each book to see the differences. Oh and I stopped speaking French. I refused. If my roommates spoke to me in French, I would answer in English, or not even listen. I gave up. French had won.

Finally, my friend Sylvie invited me to stay with her and Manu in Tampon for a few days and things slowly started to change. I got some fresh air and sun. I was forced to speak in French. I had someone who was willing to listen to me vent. She took me to a pig roast beach party where I met lots of new people, and the next day we all went for a picnic beneath a waterfall. The day after that, she took me to St. Pierre for some retail therapy. I could breathe again.

I feel a little guilty. I know I'm lucky and I know there are people who would die to be where I am. But I'm only human and I also know that while beautiful weather and breathtaking scenery makes for a nice atmosphere...happiness and hope are things that are on the inside and sometimes, they just aren't. 

Luckily for me, however, I find that eventually, they always come back.