The "U.S." Virgin Islands

As of January 1, I’m the main point of contact for our dealers in St. Thomas and St. Croix.  So this week, the coworker who was their previous contact and I set out to do the “meet and greet” tour.  We day-tripped each island, as it’s just a short hop to both and this way Charlie didn’t have to go to the kennel!

Wednesday we were off to St. Croix.  I’d been nervous about this trip since we booked the flight.  I had an idea of what to expect when my reservation said “Aircraft – Cessna” but I suppose on some level I was hoping it wasn’t true.  As soon as I realized I had to go down a flight of stairs to be on ground level to board the plane, I knew I was in trouble.  To say the plane seated 12 people makes it sound larger than it actually was.  As we walked out on the tarmac, I was just hoping I could sit in the rear and close my eyes the entire way.  I believe the one and only time I’d been on a plane that small was a sightseeing tour over Kakadu National Park in Australia.  And then there’s my sister’s famous quote, “I don’t know why famous people even get in little planes.”  Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, John Denver, Patsy Cline, Payne Stewart, JFK Jr…..the list goes on.  My plan to hide in the back failed miserably, I was the first one called out to board – aka: shotgun.  Jesus.  Literally, shoulder to shoulder with the pilot.  It was an eerie feeling, taking off and feeling the plane list as the wind caught us.  The sun was blinding me so bad I nearly reached for my sunglasses, but I was scared to rock the boat. 

What a way to see the islands!  Once I got comfortable, it was a hell of a view.  I could make out the east coast of Puerto Rico, the Puerto Rican islands of Vieques and Culebra, and many other tiny outposts most likely too small to have names.  A nice little tour on the company dime!

The general manager picked us up in his Escape.  And I’d had absolutely no warning that they drive on the left side of the road in the Virgin Islands.  WTF???  Keep in mind, the only vehicles we send to the islands are North American products  - all left hand drive vehicles.  So everyone is driving on the wrong side of the road, with the driver closest to the curb.  It’s baffling.  For two days, every time we pulled into traffic or turned a corner, I’d cringe, convinced it was the end of me.  At least when I was in Australia, the steering wheel is actually on the other side of the vehicle, giving you a constant reminder that driving isn’t quite the same as back home. 

The dealership was not unlike any other East Texas dealership I knew.  The general manager was from Des Moines, Washington, of all places.  He’d been in St. Croix a year and a half, so we got an earful about the culture.  It’s hard to explain, but viewed from my American perspective, we would call it a lack of work ethic.  However, as the GM explained to me, you have to get used to the idea that no one thinks there is anything wrong with the pace of work because they know no different.  Locals can live on the island pretty inexpensively, so as long as they pull down a couple of hundred dollars a week, they can live within their means.  Frankly, I’ve often thought this would be a much easier way to live versus our “do more – be more – make more – have more” culture.  This way of thinking flies in the face of the way any dealership in the States operates.  The more hours you turn or services you sell, the more money you make.

There’s not a lot to St. Croix.  We had lunch down by the water so I got the tour of downtown Christiansted.  The GM told me that the first weekend of every month is a big music festival/party in the streets, and invited me back one weekend when this is going on.  I’ll probably take him up on it as long as he is willing to host.  From what I hear of St. Croix, it’s not a place a blond, white woman should be unescorted.  

Oh, and we had our own private flight on the way home.  Didn’t feel so much like an airplane ride as it did a taxi.

Next morning, off to St. Thomas.  Jet Blue and a much bigger, and much nicer, plane.  The flight is 15 minutes long.  Fairly certain the only time in my life I’ve heard, “And our flight time to St. Thomas is just 15 minutes.”  Did that stop me from falling asleep?  Absolutely not.  Like Pavlov’s dogs salivated to the ringing of a bell, I fall asleep when seated on a plane.  I literally can’t control it; it makes me narcoleptic.

St. Thomas was different from St. Croix.  More cruise ships, more tourism, etc.  But a very beautiful island, from what I saw.  Keep in mind, you get a very different view of these places when visiting dealerships than the average tourist.  But we had lunch down on the water, iguanas running amuck under our feet, white sand and blue, blue water just yards away.  Our waitress was a twenty-something American girl, and I wondered yet again why I rushed into a job and home ownership and responsibility at such a young age.  Having it to do over, I’d wait tables in the Caribbean in my twenties, for sure. 

Apparently, the labor laws in the Islands make it nearly impossible to fire anyone.  The local-run government agencies will ALWAYS side with one of their own, versus the transplant manager from the States.  I heard an urban legend about a dealership that once upon a time couldn’t fire the parts manager for toking up on the job.  He was Rastafarian, you see, and it’s part of his religion, so dare you to discriminate!  Amazing.  Can you imagine walking into a parts department with the haze and smell ganja circulating?  Apparently, the situation was rectified when the no smoking laws went into place.

All in all, an educational trip. I will definitely plan to spend at least an extra night during a company sponsored trip over the next year to get to see and experience what each island has to offer.  And with English being the primary language, it will be a nice break from Puerto Rico!

I’ve finally figured out why I have struggled with the study of foreign languages all my life.  I want to know “why.”  Why something is the way it is, especially when it’s a difficult concept to understand.  With foreign language, there is no “why.”  It just is the way it is because that’s how it’s always been.  And that irritates the crap out of me.  We are getting beyond what I learned and retained from my courses at Houston Community College, so the study is going quite a bit slower, and it’s a challenge.

Any Given Sunday...

Just a quick post about something I was warned about my first week in Puerto Rico.  A co-worker on her way back to the States after her three years here said very gravely, “If you see something at the grocery store that maybe you don’t need right now, but might eventually want someday and it’ll keep, buy it.”  I didn’t think too much about it – this is, for all intents and purposes, America, right?

Wrong.  We really do take for granted the ability to get just about anything at any time of the day when living in the States.  It’s a land of 24-Hour grocery stores and convenience stores on every corner.  As long as we are willing to pay, there’s rarely a reason you can’t have something just as quickly as you can jump in the car and run up the block.

Not so here.  I’m not sure if it’s because of issues with importing to an island (do Hawaiians have these issues?) or just piss poor planning on the part of the inventory managers (I’m inclined to say the latter,) but if it’s been a particularly rough Sunday afternoon at the grocery store, I might come away with just half the items on my list.  Yesterday, it was white eggs.  Eggs!  Sure, there were plenty of crates of brown eggs, but for some reason I prefer white, and they were fresh out.  Last week it was lime juice.  And I haven’t seen macadamia nuts in months.  Man, I miss macadamia nuts.  Sometimes it’s the bottled water I prefer, or even the brand of beer I was hoping for.  You just never know how you’re going to do at the grocery store lottery any given Sunday. 

When I was in Dallas over Thanksgiving I bought some of the items I would need to eat Paleo – almond flour, coconut oil, etc.  And I stocked up on Extra spearmint flavored gum, which I have yet to see in PR.  I may need to set up a couple of exchanges to get the goods I want – Puerto Rican coffee in exchange for desiccated coconut!  (Every time my boss gets stateside, he has to pick up packets of Manwich for his wife.  We all have our vices.)

Hopefully, this will make me appreciate ‘home’ more – wherever that turns out to be on my return to the States.  But I’m sure I will quickly assimilate to being able to have what I want, when I want, and forget my years of deprivation. 

Off to St. Croix in the morning and St. Thomas on Thursday.  A little nervous about the little puddle jumper planes I think I am on, but glad to be seeing some new places and making my list of counties a bit longer (27 to date!)

Regreso a Puerto Rico....

It’s been awhile since the last post, and it’s because I’ve been CRAZY busy.  I left Puerto Rico on December 17 for two and a half weeks in Washington and Texas.  It was time well spent with family and friends, but for a multitude of reasons, I was NOT excited about heading back to Puerto Rico.  Although it has already officially been seven months, this was the absolute worst I’ve felt about returning. 

There are siblings, nephews and a niece I wish I could be there for more often.  There’s an old friend in Dallas with whom I wish I had time to see what else could be.  And there are parking spaces that allow you to park an Explorer and literally THROW open the doors without worry of repercussion.  In the height of holiday shopping, I could go to the Target nearest my Dad’s house and shop without worry of a 45 minute line to pay - the standard here in Puerto Rico regardless of the time of year.  For these reasons, after nearly three weeks, I was not excited about returning.

Fortunately, I came back to a three day work week.  Nothing like a little extra time off for the Tres Reyes holiday to make you appreciate what you have.  And this weekend a friend from grad school was in town for a wedding.  We hadn’t seen each other since, well, maybe graduation, but it was really nice to be with someone who reminded me that it doesn’t matter how often or not you can see each other, you will always have your real friends.  Between her and the old friend in Dallas, it was a nice reminder that there are people in this world that you can just pick up with, no matter where you’ve been or how much time has passed.  At the end of a rough week of readjusting, it was just what I needed.

What keeps me going is the job.  Last year for my birthday, my sister gave me a small notebook called, “A Thought a Day.”  There are 366 pages, and each one is dated.  Each page has room for five years, the idea being that you write down one thought a day over the course of five years.  I started this at the beginning of 2011, so I’m just now coming back through the pages to write a thought for the second year.  And it is painfully obvious by my daily comments in the first few months of last year how badly I needed to move on from the position I held in Dallas.  As much as I might think I’d like to be there right now, I was in desperate need of a change.

I’m only 10.5 years into what I hope will be a 30 year career, but much like my time at A&M, it’s entirely possible these three years will go down as the best of that career.  The second week of December, we held a conference in Orlando for all our dealers that I was 100% responsible for organizing. And I have to say, it was a blast.  I got to meet all the dealer people from around our region, and they are a fun group of guys.  Yes, I can say guys.  I didn’t think it was possible to get to a meeting with fewer women than in the States, but I was proven wrong.  Of our 46 attendees, one was a woman.  But what struck me most was the average age.  Compared to the States, it’s a fairly young group running our dealerships. 

Which made for a fairly late night our final evening in Orlando.  We had a group dinner, and then the younger half of the crowd headed next door to Hooters.  (Apparently, if you live in the Caribbean, this is a novelty.)  I had to stay at the dinner until everyone wrapped up, and then headed over.  I’m not sure how many cocktails the crowd managed to consume in this time, but when I walked in, immediately a chant of “Jo - D, Jo – D, Jo – D” ensued.  The waitress looked at me like I must be someone important, to which I responded, “I’m very famous in Trinidad.”  Needless to say, a great night of bonding followed, which makes me very excited to be working with these guys for the next few years.

Already my first quarter is booked.  I’m off to St. Thomas and St. Croix next week to meet the dealers there.  The very first week of February I am supposed to be in the Bahamas, and two weeks following that, I’m headed up to Michigan to meet our team there.  The first week of March is the dealer show in Vegas, which I have been unceremoniously uninvited to, which I am not happy about.  But I already have friends booked for the first week of April, and given everything in between, it will be here before I know it. 

And then it will be a year.  Sigh.  I really must get out and meet some people. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not as if I am bored, sitting around my apartment with nothing to do.  It’s quite the opposite.  I’ve been so busy that when I actually have time to sit around my apartment, I’ve appreciated every minute.  But insta-friend said it best as he flirts with a long-distance relationship, “I don’t want to sell Puerto Rico short.”  It’s a good thought.  I was so excited to come here.  I need to get out and meet the locals and really experience it before it’s over before I know it.  It can only help my Spanish!