The Joys of Not Being a Tourist

I never intended to travel the world.  I've always been more of a homebody, preferring a good book and familiar surroundings to new adventures.  I didn't have a passport until I was 38 years old.  Now I'm on my second passport and I've been to so many incredible places that it's hard to remember them all.  But it is not the majestic castles and museums that stay with me most.  It's not even the breathtaking landscapes.  What I remember most are meals I've shared in the homes of people who don't know me and often don't speak English.  I've shared family meals in South Korea, Germany, Tanzania, South Africa (actually tea in a bed and breakfast in the Township of Masiphumelele) and now here in Guadeloupe.  I previously wrote about our wonderful 3-generation 3-languages lunch at the home of Katy and Hubert.  This week we were also invited to the home of Maryse, a retired teacher and a member of Bethany's church.  She has befriended Bethany and had invited her to her home several times, but this was my first visit.  She speaks English much better than I speak French.

As you can tell from these photos, Maryse is a master gardener.  Her father was a farmer/horticulturist and her late husband was a landscaper and it's obvious that Maryse knows how to love and care for all kinds of flora.

She served us some fresh limeade made with limes, local honey, water and cinnamon.  Very refreshing! 

Then we toured her yard/garden/orchard.  She has many beautiful and exotic plants in her yard, many of them planted by her father.  It was truly almost like being back in the botanical garden in Deshaies! As we walked, she told us about all of the trees and even stopped to pick fruit for us to takes home.

The most interesting site in her yard is under the "strangler fig." This invasive parasitic tree sprouts in the crook of a host tree and grows roots down to the ground from its limbs.  If you aren't vigilant about cutting off these shoots, the tree will eventually take over and strangle the host tree.  In Maryse's yard, her husband parked an old car under the strangler fig 15 years ago.  If you peek under the sheet metal, you can see the remains of the car, now crushed by the tree.

We ate lunch on her shaded breezeway, a lovely meal of salad, creole crab with local vegetables and mussels cooked in wine and garlic (we are in France after all).  As we enjoyed our meal, the neighborhood rooster stopped by.

It was a delightful day spent with a delightful woman, and it is one of the special memories I'll take with me.  

Being a tourist focuses all of the attention on me - How is this hotel or meal making me feel?  Is it meeting my needs? Is it a good value for me?  Spending time in someone's home makes me aware of their hospitality and what it costs them to host me - not just financial cost but their time and giving up their privacy.  It also makes me aware of how truly alike we are when we sit around a common table.  Of course, this is something Jesus knew 2000 years ago.

And while I wrote this post, my church back home was hosting some Muslim friends as they broke their Ramadan fast.  The path to peace is truly through our stomachs.