Our journey, Chapter 6: Maslow revisited
Those of us who were born in the last millennium at some point learned about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Designed as a pyramid with Physiological needs such as food, clothing and shelter at the base, it ascends through five steps next to Safety needs, then Social (love and belonging), Esteem and finally Self-actualization. It’s worth noting for those who have never heard of Maslow that a good WiFi signal and access to high-speed internet were not included in his list of Physiological needs and “social” media probably wouldn’t qualify as meeting his definition of Social needs.
I mention all of this because, as I hinted at before, we have perhaps unwittingly approached our journey with Maslow’s roadmap in mind.
Food: Early Sunday morning, Natalie suggested we head to the grocery. Eschewing the taxi robber barons (Natalie is convinced all of the finest homes in the USVIs have to be owned by taxi drivers), we decided to walk to the store. It was less than a mile from Gallows Point, so not a big deal. The return trip would be an entirely different thing with our arms loaded down with what we bought. So, being the far wiser of the two of us, Natalie told me we would only buy what we absolutely needed and that we could always go back to the store.
The most prominent aisle in the market was reserved for…you guessed it, wine, beer and liquor. I get it. St. John has a population of only five to six thousand people. So, most of those on the island are vacationers. And what do vacationers want? Right, we look for alcohol, something that increases the risk we forget what we did on our vacation, or maybe that we even took a vacation in the first place. Perhaps we should all rethink vacation mode.
I suspect Maslow would classify alcohol as something we sometimes mistakenly believe helps address our need for Esteem, as in self-worth, accomplishment and respect. Of course, the downside to feeling like we can do anything after a few cocktails is the self-loathing that comes that next day when we recall what we did while we were bullet proof. (Not that I’m speaking from experience, or anything. Just hypothesizing.) So, maybe not that good for addressing our Esteem needs.
But, I digress.
We made the wise decision to ignore the booze aisle until we found the rest of the grocery items we actually needed. Then, we could return to it and make purchases that would not exceed our weight limit for the return to Gallows Point.
St. John is an island, which means it is surrounded by water; in this case, the Caribbean Sea. In the sea there are fish. In this market, however, there were no fish. There was also no fresh meat. Vegetables were scarce, too. Keep in mind that this grocery serves the local people. I’m sure the locals don’t sit around all day drinking cocktails from Aisle 2. What do they eat???
We did find basic staples and Natalie said she would make rice and beans. Not exactly what you think of when you imagine island food, is it? They had roasted garlic hummus, which Natalie regretted buying after she smelled it on my breath. Then, we found the crackers. Crackers in the USVIs are worth their weight in gold – at least they are priced that way. Wanna pay ten bucks for a box of crackers? Me neither. But, without fresh vegetables, what else are you going to eat with your hummus?
When we figure out where we’re going to live in the islands, I’m going to start a cracker bakery!
Food here is expensive. At least the taxi drivers can afford it.
Clothing: We again wandered Cruz Bay as I complained about the chafing I had from my bathing suit. In an effort to stop my complaining, Natalie led me into a store selling Fair Harbor swimwear. My friend, Kurt, had recommended that brand several years ago to eliminate the chafing caused by walking in a wet bathing suit. He was absolutely right. Unfortunately, the bathing suits I brought were not Fair Harbor. In an act of love and kindness, Natalie had bought me Polo swim suits and had previously asked me why I wasn’t wearing them. No way I could come on our trip to the islands without what she had given me. So instead, I wore what she bought, got raw and whined about it. (Amazing she has put up with me for fifty years, isn’t it?)
Natalie found a bathing suit for me and a pair of pants. No more chafing. Even better, they were less than crackers.
Shelter: I managed to convince myself that Gallows Point would have a nice breeze, despite its location on what is almost the western most point of St. John, because it is slightly elevated and there are no surrounding hillsides to obstruct the wind. Good thing I didn’t bet on that. While there certainly is more of a breeze than at the Westin, it isn’t enough to substantially mitigate the daily toasting.
The staff at Gallows Point couldn’t have been nicer or more accommodating. The landscaping is lush and really well maintained. The pool is also very nice with a beautiful view of St. Thomas and steps that lead down to an absolutely crystal-clear sea.
Plagiarizing myself from a response to a comment from my friend, Dan, like the pool, our villa faces St. Thomas. Each evening, once the heat fades, everything is magical. The sky softens. The sound of boats plying between the islands add a basso note to complement the tenor of the waves lapping at the shore and the birds are graceful silhouettes against the pinks and yellows of the fading streaks of light from the sun that scorched us earlier in the day.
Much of St. John shuts down in August for rest and repair. Gallows Point, too. It needs a timeout. The sun, wind and rain take a toll on everything. Fresh paint, the repair of a couple of windows that leak when it rains and some minor maintenance on the interior will restore its glory.
But, the plan is still to find something with a strong breeze.
Safety: Natalie and I went to the gym at Gallows Point on Monday morning. Although it is small, it isn’t bad. Its located just below the pool deck mere steps above the sea, so the air is musty. I get it. My solution, which worked pretty well, was to keep the door to the gym ajar and turn on the exhaust fan in the toilet. Problem solved.
We were pretty well finished with our respective routines when Natalie wiped down the elliptical, she had just used. The design of that particular piece of equipment is poor. When she stepped back from it, one of the pedals slid back and struck her in the shin, slicing open the skin like a scalpel.
I grabbed paper towels to cover the wound and found butterfly bandages in the first aid kit. With her incredible pain tolerance, Natalie calmly and stoically told me it wasn’t that bad. Let’s be real. The skin on our shins is pretty thin. It’s hard to have a cut there that doesn’t expose bone. I told her we needed to go to the hospital. Of course, she refused and simply asked for my help to get back to our villa. It wasn’t until Emma, our granddaughter who is a nurse, told Natalie she needed to have it seen by a doctor that she finally relented.
A cab took us to the hospital. Well, took us to the clinic. Well, took us to the temporary facility that has served as the clinic for St. John since the actual health center was damaged in the hurricane – Hurricane Irene – in 2017. WHAT???
On the brighter side, there was no wait, the staff was efficient and comforting and the doctor very helpful. Fortunately, the doctor was able to use the very last surgical glue stick the clinic had to help close Natalie’s wound before applying sterile strips.
After the doctor left, I asked the nurse some questions about the clinic and learned they had also just lost their radiology tech so they don’t do x-rays there. She explained that if someone needed an x-ray, they send them to St. Thomas…on the ferry.
Understanding issues related to healthcare was certainly on our list to discover during our journey, we just didn’t want to do so this way. Natalie stated the obvious. If we lived on St. John and had any kind of significant health issue, including an accident, we would be screwed.
On the taxi ride back to Gallows Point, we noticed the smell of weed and the driver chose to ride down the middle of the road much of the time, including through blind curves. Since the taxis are open-air on St. John and the driver was in a closed compartment in front of the passengers’ compartment, I couldn’t communicate with him. All we could do was pray he would get us back to Gallows Point in one piece and we wouldn’t have to be sent to a hospital on St. Thomas via ferry.
Back in our villa, I called the realtor who was scheduled to show us houses the next day and CANCELLED. We love the island, but we’re not going to live on St. John. We will absolutely visit, but we ain’t gonna’ live there.
Natalie is healing and is fine. She’s just PO’d she can’t get her wound wet for a week or ten days. So, until it heals, no swimming or snorkeling. She also can’t hike until then, something she loves to do.
She’s a bit grumpy. A good sign. Fortunately, it rained most of the time over the next three days. We read and played games. Life is still good and the journey continues. Off again to St. Thomas – a bit wiser.
So, two takeaways to-date. Home must have a breeze and not be on St. John. See, this journey isn’t just a frivolous escape. Time for a cocktail and a cracker.