26/07/2013 - Swan Song
It is amazing how time manages to
fly by when you are living in paradise. It seems that our Curieuse adventure
has come to an end just as we were all fully embracing our new way of life. We
celebrated our last full weekend together this past week by trekking over to
the resort island of La Digue and staying in a quaint half-board bed and
breakfast owned by a German man who had retired to the Seychelles. The
accommodations were not fancy, but the setting in the hills of La Digue was
peaceful, and the pool (although freezing cold) provided for some fun
late-night dips. The transportation of choice on the island is bicycles (we saw
perhaps 2 or 3 cars the entire weekend), which allowed us to enjoy the sun and
gorgeous weather while we explored the extent of the island in search of great
beaches and snorkeling opportunities. We, of course, made a stop at Source D’Argent
so that we could enjoy the world’s #1 ranked beach, and I could not pass up the
opportunity to take my obligatory “be jealous of me” photo for Facebook here
(sitting on the beach in my GVI Seychelles t-shirt, nonchalantly gazing out
over the water like I owned the place). I have decided La Digue must be French
for “Puppy Paradise”. Seriously, the beaches are covered with stray puppies
ready to greet everyone with little wet noses and playful wagging tails. Some
just want to curl up in your lap, and others want to proudly parade you around
their beach while chasing sand crabs. It is easily the world’s cutest
infestation. Our nights were spent soaking up the local culture at a bar on the
shore, which included lots of dancing, island music, and a particularly epic
moment when Tom used his new GVI-provided Emergency First Responder training to
come to the aid of a local Seychellois man in-need.
As we
prepare for our last BBQ tonight, and our thoughts turn from the work we’ve
been doing toward going home to families, friends, jobs, and school (not to
mention hot showers, flushing toilets, and for once not actually being sandy),
I know I may never have another chance at an experience like this. I will
cherish the time spent and the sweat (especially on Coco De Mer surveys), the
blood (mostly to the mosquitos), and the tears (mostly so far from Zach and Flo
upon their departures, but I expect others to follow suit when we disperse from
the island in the morning) shed for the Seychelles Terrestrial Project over the
past month. I have spent my last few days in this paradise finding the last few
spots I haven’t been to yet, enjoying the feel of the sun, the smell of the
ocean, and the sound of the crashing waves, and saying goodbye to my favorite
tortoises (with one last tickle and one last handful of Hibiscus leaves). I now
have a new tortoise friend who recognizes me as the guy who once “made it rain”
Hibiscus leaves around him and now does his best to make his little legs run
faster trying to follow me around every time I come to visit.
And so
it seems we have reached the end of our tenure here on Curieuse Island (except
for Laura, who still has another month to go, and will be spending it working
with the next group of volunteers. It seems a bit sac religious to speak of the
end of our one-month adventure as a closing point. We will leave, but the work
will carry on. There are plenty of surveys to be done, and a new group will
arrive just as we leave to carry it forward without skipping a beat, ready to
make their own unique memories during their time here. I will never forget the
excitement of finding a new baby Giant Tortoise, so small he could fit in the palm
of my hand, proof they can successfully live and breed on this island. I will
miss the heated afternoon volleyball practices and our epic 11-9 victory over
the staff (even if they decide to conveniently forget it happened). I will
still chuckle to myself when I think of the “Flo Dance”, and I don’t think my
pictures will come close to instilling the awe I felt at seeing the sunrise
from the top of Mt. Curieuse (so worth the 4:30 am wakeup and the grueling
climb).
The
memories weren’t all great, though, and I know some of the others will stick with
me as well, such as the afternoon during my day I of kitchen duty when Reggie,
the base manager, showed up with 40+ lbs of fresh fish to clean, filet,
de-bone, and cook in time for dinner (I am so sorry Mom for all the times we
did that to you growing up), or the time I realized 2/3 of the way through the
project that committing to whittle an entire chess set was a terrible idea. I
think we will all remember never to throw paper products into a primitive
toilet after our week of having to use a latrine instead. I wish the next group
of volunteers the best of their own special memories, and I hope they do not
suffer our same mistakes. In the spirit of this, I wish to close by offering a
bit of advice to said incoming group…things I wish I had known when I arrived.
First of all, always hike behind someone taller than you. This way, he or she
will be the one who keeps inadvertently walking into spider webs. If you happen
to be tall, like me, and thus are not lucky enough to have this option, I
suggest trying not to look down so much as you hike…or at least don’t hike with
your mouth open…trust me. Secondly, when you are on base, that’s your chance to
make everyone else listen to the music you want to hear, so make it count.
Thirdly, if your scheduled survey has the word “inland” in it, give some
consideration to wearing pants. Many people disagree with me on this, as it is
hotter in pants, but I have yet to hear someone say “Man, I love how this razor
palm bush feels brushing against my bare legs”. Finally, I highly suggest
exploring with your new-found friends and teammates during any off time. Visit
other islands as a group, soak up some local culture, and bond a bit…the
surveys aren’t work when you’re laughing and hiking with friends who share a
common affinity for this place.
I know
it is a bit cliché to wrap up the final blog in such a manner, with a heartfelt
look-back at our time…but like all of us here, I have become a bit sentimental,
as the time we have left here can now be counted in hours rather than days. I
want to thank the staff, my fellow teammates, and GVI for this experience, and
I am glad I could spend a month of my time this summer giving back to such a
gorgeous and unique island.
Oh, by
the way, Matt, if you are reading this…that sand crab that somehow ended up in
your bed during our second week…that was me.
-Nate, USA
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