This is something beautiful I found in his garden. He said it was called Baobab of the desert "or something" and he picked it up from "some lady". I have since then found out it is called andenium:
It looks almost too exotic to be true, as if someone took a bonsai baobab and stuck some azalea flowers to it. But I did check, and the flowers were not stuck on. It is worth checking though (I have an aunt who bought a beautiful flower cactus that everyone marvelled at and just turned out to be plastic flowers stuck on a very common cactus indeed).
As I mentioned before he has everything in there, like this:
The front of the yard is quite organised with flowers arranged a certain way and an artificial pond. The back is more traditionally creol: chaotic, with every bit of ground being put to use to produce a flower or herbs or a vegetable or to shelter animals. Why somebody who lives alone with their wife would feel the need to produce soooo much food is beyond me. The only thing that would explain this in my opinion is having lived in poverty and pride. Pride of being able to grow just anything. Being able to pick up some interesting looking plants from someone, cutting a bit of it and growing it with success, then giving bits of it to everyone who comes to see you and goes "oooooo, look at that, what is it? how does it flower? how did you grow that?". Then you stand back and wait til you see them again and take stock of who managed to grow it.
See, nurseries have it hard around here. Mum got more than half her stock of plants from family and friends. And when they visit each other, an important part of the conversation is on what is in their garden, what they have grown successfully or not, what they have grown successfully that nobody else has managed and would you like some salads? or bananas? passionfruit? or a seedling/ cutting of that one to try it?
We left my uncle's house with two boxes full of fruit and three pots full of seedlings for us and for a friend of mum's. That's just the way it is. We NEVER leave anyone of a certain age empty handed. Since I have arrived we have been given litchis (3 times), mangoes, coconuts, passionfruits (3 times), some type of tomatoes, cabbages, lettuces, bananas (3 times), chillis, green peppers, peaches, prunes and asian greens.
The downside of all this is that my uncle, as a lot of creol people, seems more worried about the well being of his plants than his animals. Very often plants who need to be protected from the sun sit comfortably under big sheltered spaces especially built for this purpose whilst hens will live in small "parc poulet" shelters under the glaring sun, dogs tied up to a tiny bit of chain. My uncle was complaining about some of his chickens getting mean and crazy. I had to point out, many times, that I would be too living like that. Sadly I can't say I was heard. I can only repeat it again and again each time I see him. There is a lot to be done yet on a cultural level as regards the welfare and management of animals here. I have an uncle who raises animals for eating and I think that's a good thing if you are not a vegetarian. I remember reading in a Tim winton book that "you should have killed or seen killed the animals you eat at least once, to have an idea of your responsibilities" and I think that's just right. My uncle can cook a goat he raises but he cannot kill them himself. I don't think he struggles with any other animal, just the goats. That is amazing to me given the way he was raised and his relationship with the rest of his animals. I did not think there was such a hierarchy in his views of his animals. His dogs he uses for hunting so I get that he could not kill them like that, but his goats he raises to eat just as his chickens, rabbits and pigs. I mean, if I could eat only the meat that I killed myself I don't know what I would eat. Would you? I'd eat snails. Sure I'd eat fish and sea food. Chickens? Would I be so hungry as to kill a pig or piglet myself?
There is so much we take for granted when we have only lived in the one place. Take shopping and what shops look like. I have been shopping with mum on the eastern side of the island, where the shops look even more run down than the center of Saint-Denis (which, understand me, looks run down compared to, say, the shops in Melbourne but glamorous compared to other towns in the world I'm sure) , where the population looks more Indian and Arabic and where samosas tastes spicier and more exotic. If you equate shopping with the clean, sparkling and air-conditioned shops of Chadstone or the picturesque, well maintained streets of Richmond and you are not open-minded, then you would be unable to shop here.
I swear every shop keeper is either Arabic or Indian in the center of Saint-Andre, a town where many an amazing or horrific bargain is to be got. I have found the most amazing shop with curtains: they are nice and soft and fluffy, with fresh or rich colors; there are classic designs or more modern but with taste, and all that, believe me, at a very reasonable price, cheaper and better chosen than any of the shops I have seen in Saint-Denis for that range. I have seen the most beautiful shop for evening dresses, expensive compared to the rest of that part of town but not more than in Melbourne. The dresses were better cut, in better fabric and better taste than any of the shops I have seen of late in Melbourne. I am not joking. I was looking for a dress for a wedding in Melbourne and, hell, I would have found my own wedding dress just accross the road from that evening dress shop in Saint Andre. I had to shop for hours in Melbourne to find anything. I would have been happy with at least 3 designs from that only shop in Saint Andre.
But. As there is a but. Right next to it, there was ..... that shop. Mum tried to stop there. She was looking for underwear and there were underwear pieces in the windows you see. But. I would have gone in with her IF there had been enough room. Seriously. You did one step in and you were in front of the front desk with boxes everywhere around you and shelves filled with more boxes and two guys in muslim dress not caring the least you were a potential customer.
And, here's the thing, it did not look in the least like the shop was in any way different than any other day: they weren't doing an inventory, there was no sign explaning why it was in that state and no word of explanation offered. As neither of us felt like asking two men to .... I don't know, break the window (I have no idea how they would get to it any other way on that day) in order to try the "blue panties with that little bit of lace on top", we just stepped back and continued to the next shop.
Anyways, gotta go now and thought I would leave today with an exotic food picture: the baba - figue.
I took this photo on the way back from the Plaine des Palmistes (Plain of the palm trees and in answer to your question I don't know and I can't remember seeing one up there now I think about it). I had been to see "le moun les hauts" (people up there: ie family), namely my cousin and her fine beautiful private little tribe (ie her 4 children). There would be a lot to say on family from this lovely visit but that's best left to later or never.
Now, as to my photos, you may have noticed it is coming out of a banana tree. It beats me why anything coming out of a banana bunch might be called "fig" and on this matter I will take the common, and somewhat lazy stance of " I don't know why it would be so and I don't care it tastes damn fine when cooked well".
So long. hiking tomorrow.
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