This post is a sort of tribute to my dad, who just left after a week and a half visit, which was also an immersion course in our particular lifestyle. He is a world traveler from a young age, supremely adaptable, and one of Tallulah's best friends. We call him Frizz. 

I'm writing this in the UVI library while Tallulah puts stickers in my hair, which, by the way, I can't recall washing, and that explains why there are no pictures of me in this series. I have other things in my hair, souvenirs of places I've been over the past couple of weeks. I can't remember how to spell, either, a terrible thing that has not happened since I got performance anxiety during a spelling competition finals in 6th grade and the word was "subtle." I've just given her my purse to play with, so I expect a child decorated with lip and eyeliner shortly. Not that I use those things myself, I just carry them around for some reason. 

After he arrived we went on a grocery mission. Our first stop, The Priority Shop, ostensibly owned by a Dominican who flies down to bring up produce in his private plane, contained nothing more than moldy taro and an incomprehensible cashier. We decided it was a front for other imports.

Decorated.

Foraging for fruit in the University test gardens. Crops to look forward to: passionfruit and zapotes.

Rowing to shore. Sometimes a barracuda follows along.

Local pomegranates are powder pink.

Eating fried turnovers (pate) on the beach.

Barbeque for three generations of left-handed sailors. A good marinade for pork ribs, by Adam: fermented sugar, molasses, mustard, and vinegar.

I found a big stalk of sugarcane on the street in downtown Charlotte Amalie.

Local men in suits smile indulgently at three tourists sucking on cane on the front steps of their office.

Diabetes be damned!

At the Bordeaux Agricultural Fair, drums and vegan soup.

Playing dress-up.

Tallulah comments, "This curry is like inflated balloons chasing each other around the bowl!"

Waiting for the safari bus.

Saying goodbye.