Caribbean Note VI

First weird occurrence was a plane crash just off our coast about a half mile. Turns out a small drug plane was using the lights of Bonaire to navigate at night and while flying low along the waterfront, in front of all the tourists having dinner in the nice restaurants there, exploded and fell into the sea. There was a man still strapped into his seat and burned up before the plane sank and bales of Cocaine floating at the crash site.

And while everyone was trying to solve that mystery a small commercial plane crashed in the same place a couple days later. This time ten people were aboard and everyone was rescued except the pilot who was knocked unconscious in the crash and couldn't be pulled from the cockpit before the plane sank in something more than 600 feet of water.

Quite an exciting week!

We have made friends with a local (Bonairian) couple and it's kind of like being friends with Archie and Edith Bunker. He worked for years as a local cop and knows everyone (or everyone knows him) but is retired now and (kind of) hates the Dutch. If you consider the Dutch hold the local people in the standard colonial headlock after centuries of slavery and the virtual slavery of the plantation system, it's not hard to see his point of view. She is as sweet as any grandmother could be and speaks very little English, but has always been the stay at home mom and is the expert on cooking local foods. Since Berit and I enjoy trying new things we've been having a weekly dinner with them where the ladies make Oxtail Stew and Funchi and Red Beans (with pig's tails) and Rice and the old standby's like Iguana and Fish Head Stew etc.

Well, he is quite the amature web browser and spends some time everyday watching web broadcasts and getting his news and information on the computer and was having a problem with his CPU overheating and shutting off. He knew that Berit was connected to the mysterious programming world so asked if she would take a look at his computer and see if she could fix it. Berit agreed and we spent all day Monday diagnosing and solving the problem. We had to visit every little PC shop on the island 'til we found a heat sink fan to replace to one that was malfunctioning but in the end we were successful and put everything back together again and fired up the computer . . . and it wouldn't come back up.

The computer had been working when we shut it down and opened it up. The fan was working now, but the computer would not boot up. We must have zapped the motherboard, or maybe the processor had just gotten so hot it was shot, but all in all we took a computer that had a minor problem and turned it into a computer with a major problem. We took it to a repair shop and after an extensive diagnosis concluded that the motherboard was not working and should be replaced.

That was all on Monday. Tomorrow is Monday and we still don't have it back. He is fit to be tied. We've had endless excuses for why it's not ready yet, including the plane crash delayed the part from Curacao, but he is convinced that it's all lies and the lazy people who promised one thing on Monday and another on Wednesday and something else on Friday are just jerking us around and somehow behind it all the Dutch could somehow be responsible!!

We hope to have the computer back on Monday because Tuesday we are having another dinner, In order to have a break from the local food Berit is cooking Pot Roast. WooHoo!!

You know the ultimate disappointment in the new foods zone was the day Verna cooked pizza for us. We kids were little and Mom and Dad were going to General Conference in Independence and left us with Stan and Verna and their kids while they were gone. Verna was (circa 1960's) a health food nut and great money saver where food preparation was concerned, but her meals were always healthy and nutritious. So when we heard she was cooking pizza we were thrilled! We loved pizza, and because Mom was in the same vein and always prepared our meals at home, we never got to have pizza. We were stunned to think how lucky those kids were that their mother was so great a chef that she could actually make pizza at home.

When it was served that night for dinner our glee turned to disgust. She had used whole wheat flour and the topping was kidneys. It was the most horrid thing we had ever tried to eat, and because of the "you have to finish your plate before you can leave the table" rule we were forced to sit there stirring the kidneys (not meat) on top of the bread (not crust) until she'd had enough of our wastefulness and let us escape. I thought it was the worst meal of my life . . . until the Okra stew.

I'll let Berit tell that story:

First of all, let me say, I loved the Okra Stew. Last week, over Oxtail Stew, they mentioned that if they could get some good Okra that they would make us some Okra Stew next time. Well, I immediately flashed back on my childhood experiences with okra, although few, and had to wonder if that would be a good idea, but what can you say when someone has offered to cook you a meal. Later in the day Michael and I discussed the "stew" and Michael had a few things to say about okra. His main objection being the drool-like, snot-like liquid that results from cooking okra. As far as he's concerned the only way to eat okra is fried to death. He mentioned that if the stew was going to have any of the snot-like liquid that that was going to be a big problem. All I could do was chuckle. It was going to be very entertaining.

Tuesday arrived and our guests showed up with a big pot of stew and mouths watering. They each said that they could single-handedly eat the whole pot. He lifted the lid and Michael's worst nightmare presented itself in full blown green slimy goodness. The men went outside to have a beer while Monica and I prepared the funchi. Funchi is made of corn meal and I think is probably comparable to polenta. I've tried making it here and I like it but it's another thing that Michael doesn't care for. When all was ready, he dished us all up huge bowls full of stew and we each dropped a chunk of funchi into our bowl. You each a little funchi with each spoon of stew. Absolute bliss for our guests and also myself, pure torture for poor Michael. Later he told me that every time he looked at any of us we would have a long thread of slime hanging from our mouths down to our bowls. And did I mention that the stew contained fish and salted pig's tails. Well, Michael survived without losing his lunch in front of our friends and managed to down about half of his bowl. The rest of us all had seconds. Mmm-mmm good! They returned on Friday with Red Beans and Rice. Delicious -- and Michael thinks so too.

We miss you guy's! We hope to see you all soon. Three more weeks is all we have left and we will be back.