Cos variety is the spice of life, here’s a more-personal-than-usual post in a different format. But hopefully it will elicit a smile… Un jour à la Martinique: ‘A day as Khadijah’.
Being the foreign chick is not as much fun as one would hope. For every 10 guys who love your accent, there are 2 that were listening to what you were saying, and only 1 of them understood. Suitors are far more interested in a foreign conquest than getting to know you. Which can be tiring when you’re The Foreign Chick that everyone wants a piece of. Piece. As in fresh meat.
For the guys that do get to know you, as a person and not a curiosity, if you have different first languages, communication can be difficult if you’re not both bilingual. Unless one of you doesn’t mind not being properly understood. Continue reading
Apparently, I’m a romantic. I don’t think it’s asking too much for a young man to put some thought into how he keeps my attention. I’m not against a little effort, or being impressed. It’s not that I’m into insincerity and sweet nothings. I simply believe that if life is to be lived abundantly, then matters of the heart should involve some involuntary fluttering. And frankly, on a lush tropical island, it is not exceedingly difficult to woo a romantic; breathtaking views are the norm, atmosphere is everywhere and a little creativity can go a really long way at literally no cost.
As a young, single woman with a cute English accent (although I didn’t know that ’til much later) from abroad I was bound to be a curiosity (read: fresh blood) when I moved to the French Caribbean. And I was semi-mentally prepared for it. In addition, as with the approach of summer in temperate countries, I had the swinging hips of a woman liberated from her winter wardrobe with suitcases of new light and colourful clothes to enjoy. Continue reading
When you grow up in a temperate (read: COLD) climate, a first date which includes watching a multicoloured sunset under palm trees, dinner (albeit top brass takeaway pizza) on a secluded white sand beach and a midnight swim is the stuff of your most unabashedly romantic fantasies and the holiday romances of your wildest dreams. They’re not actually real. And it’s unrealistic expectations like these that are the reason for the divorce stats they say. But when you are located in the tropics where palm trees abound, sunsets are breathtaking and you want to impress somebody, what else says ‘What you saaaaaaaaaaaying?’ or ‘Wha gwan rude girl’ with quite the same je ne sais quoi? And when pennies are not dropping out of those scene-setting palm trees, this is a cheap and cheerful night out. Continue reading