The Farmer's Wife Abroad {Food}

Ah, the food...

Bonaire can grow nothing, save goats and iguanas (both of which are edible...), so all the food on the island is imported. 

And imported = expensive. 

Especially when an island is importing the vast majority of their food products from the Netherlands. A lot of the produce comes from South and Central America, which saves a few miles, but other than that, the Netherlands.  

I kind of knew this, but I didn't KNOW this...does that make sense? 

I had read about the grocery stores and markets, even watched a couple videos taken by a tourist who was shopping in Van Den Tweel's in Kralendijk, but it didn't occur to me that the labels would all be in Dutch. I was more focused on staying within my grocery budget and still feeding everyone enough so that we weren't forced to kill and butcher a goat, say...

Since I don't really know any Dutch, this made grocery shopping quite slow.  I looked at the labels, thought about what the English equivilant of that word might be, examined the picture or product quite carefully once again, and put it in the cart.  Sometimes I hit it, sometimes I didn't.  

I wanted half & half for my coffee but all I could comprehend was "melk"...obviously "milk".  But the rest of the cartons gave me no clue as to their contents. And the smiling cows on them seemed to mock my ignorance...

I bought karnemelk. 

Who knows?! Karnemelk might be part milk with the other part being cream...oh, I hope, I hope...

NO.

Karnemelk is buttermilk. 

A terrible lesson in Dutch at 6 a.m. in my coffee. 

(I used it later in seafood fritters and it worked out neatly, so no waste.)

There was also a section of what appeared to be shelf-stable coffee creamers with happy Dutch people sipping hot beverages on the label. (And the label did NOT say karnemelk anywhere on it, so I thought "Who knows?! It might be creamer...oh, I hope, I hope")  

NO

The happy Dutch citizens had evaporated milk in their coffee. Not even sweetened condensed milk, but just plain old evaporated "melk".  Why were they so ecstatic about THAT? 

The fruit was amazing. 

It was tricky, though.  It LOOKED green, especially the pineapple and mangos.  It FELT green. It didn't smell like ripe fruit generally smells. But when I'd cut into it, it was perfectly ripe...if I let it sit on the counter for more than a day it would begin to be TOO ripe very quickly.  

Cheese....oh, God bless the Dutch and their happy cows who make happy cheese.

I have no idea what kinds I bought, but they were all good. (This is not surprising, since cheese is one of my favorite food groups.) 

I stayed within budget very well, so Thursday Ivan gave me extra cash and told me to get shrimp and steak for supper that night. I'd been shopping all week at three different supermarkets and knew the pickings were slim in the beef department and the shrimp looked a little old...what to do?  Warehouse Grocery (which was not a "warehouse grocery" like we're used to; Costco and Sam's Club...it was a regular old supermarket) had good steaks that day, but I was not paying for anything with a bone. With careful picking, I ended up with 3 loin cuts that ran $47/lb.  At Van Den Tweel's, I found some not so gross shrimp that was pre-garlic-ed for $34/lb and several pork skewers (at least I THINK they were pork skewers...or goat, but we're not going to split hairs now) for $30/lb.  When I returned with my haul and brought it into the villa, Ivan said, "You didn't get enough!" to which I pointed out the prices on the receipt and we agreed that everyone would have to fill in the gaps with rice and salad...

Merrill, the owner of the villa, had told me where I could go for fresh fish....catch of the day!....so I was determined to get my hands on some of that.  It was a rather strange connection as I had to call the front desk of a hotel, they'd put me in touch with the kitchen, we'd wrangle out a deal and I'd go home with whatever they caught that day. 

I called the Sand Dollar and sure enough, they said they had fish and to stop by the office to make the deal. 

Hmmm...

Well, it took me a little while to find the office because it was tucked way in the back of the resort, far from the entrance and parking lot. When I finally found it, I was hot and flustered and frankly, not in the mood to haggle over any old fish.  The front desk clerk listened to my story, picked up the phone and negotiated a deal with the kitchen for tuna steaks (enough for six) for $22.  When did I want to pick them up? Um....in an hour, maybe? No worries, the fish would be there in an hour. 

But, in true Bonairian spirit, the desk clerk (Mercedes- pronounced mar-SHAY-deez) said I could get it whenever...she was there all day, even over lunch when the sign said they were closed, and just swing by when I was finished marketing. I wanted to hug her. 

When I got the tuna back to the villa, I carefully unwrapped the newspaper and then the plastic wrap.

There were the most beautiful, huge pink chunks of tuna I'd ever seen....about an inch thick, mostly. It was almost intimidating, thinking of grilling such perfection! 

But I managed it...salt, pepper, lime juice...it grilled like a dream, and paired nicely with the fresh mango salsa I made that afternoon. 

I really wish my group had liked fish better, because I'd have been at the Sand Dollar every morning, chatting it up with Mercedes, picking up barracuda or what have you.  

Here's the supermarket I used most often. (I'm not ashamed to tell you...it's because as I went out the door, there were insanely yummy, fresh smoothies made of just blended fruit...no yogurt or anything. $2 bought a go cup of heaven.) 

The thing about ALL the supermarkets on Bonaire is that you had to bring your own bags to carry your groceries out with. (Presumably because they were eco-sensitive and couldn't handle the amount of trash the other plastic/paper bags would add to the island.) (All the trash has to be hauled OFF Bonaire and away, so the residents use everything up and recycle as much as they can.)

At Van Den Tweel, you also had to rent a shopping cart. All the carts were chained together outside. In order to take one to use, you had to push a quarter in a little slot which released the chain from the handle. When you returned the cart, you pushed the chain back in the handle slot and out popped your quarter.  Neat, huh?! I kept a cart quarter in Bonnie's cupholder so I wouldn't have to dig around in my pocket or purse each time I went. 

STROOPWAFELS!!!

My favorite Dutch thang. 

These were my breakfast every morning after this purchase...along with koffe, sans karnemelk.

(See the shopping bag? You can't believe how many groceries those hold! It's the lugging them up the stairs to the kitchen that's the trick...)

Australian house wine, which was mostly chardonnay as the label indicates, but packaged with Dutch labeling...

I loved that the Oreos (black and whites) had the description in Dutch, French, and Italian!

With a name like "Smaakt", it has to be good! (I think chickpeas in a tomato sauce, I'm not certain.)

Cornstarch was allesbinder. The baking soda was found among the cleaning products. And I had to go to two other groceries to find baking powder for my fritters. (No one bakes, there! It's too hot, and the air conditioning is room by room if you can possibly afford it, so all the baked goods are bought in the markets. And there are precious few ingredients to use if you want to do it yourself.)

I spent quite a lot of the grocery budget on fruit juice, which really was quite good and that Jaspers consumed in vast quantities. (I don't blame them a bit. Toward the end of the stay, I was drinking more of it, too, and I'm not a juice drinker!) The juice came in boxes like you'd buy chicken stock in here, and the only way I could guess at what juice was in the box was by the pictures. If I didn't recognize the fruit, I didn't buy the box.  

One of the things I started doing later in the week was to watch other people's grocery carts if I heard them speaking Papiamentu or Dutch. They knew the good products and produce! The best time to shop if you wanted to avoid crowds was in the afternoon before everyone got off work and the other folks were laying low trying to stay cool. It was wonderfully air conditioned in the supermarkets and I took my time doing the Dutch Label Lottery game. Sunday morning was craziness...I think everyone got out of church, then zipped by the stores to get something for lunch.  

I haven't even touched on the food in the restaurants!

YIKES!

There'll be a second food post, I'm afraid...

The Farmer's Wife Abroad {Drive}

One of the best, most unexpected things I loved about Bonaire was driving into Kralendijk for shopping! Ivan had told me before we got there that the buildings were put up and THEN streets made, not the other way around. He explained that they were random, confusing, curved into cul-de-sacs that were unadvertised, one-way sometimes but not others...so I was a little nervous about getting around on my own because as most of you know, I'm directionally challenged and can get lost in a Target store (even if I've been there before). I wasn't really scared about getting lost on Bonaire because, hey, it's an island; if you drive long enough, you'll eventually get back to the point you started because where else are you going to go, right? But I was worried about taking too long and not getting back in time to make a meal.

Amazingly, though, the streets and roads worked for me on Bonaire. After a few days, I decided it must be because that's how my brain is wired...random, confusing, one-way sometimes but not others.  There were no traffic lights so there were roundabouts which everyone was very efficient in and I found great fun! (In Montana, no one really knows how to use a roundabout so they're kind of dangerous actually. But on Bonaire, they worked like a charm.)

The drivers were generous and easy-going.  One of the things I learned was that the horn on the car is not used as a "weapon" to flog other drivers when they're not moving fast enough.  It's a form of friendly communication...one quick tap means "you've got the right away so take it" or "I'm coming around the corner so pull to the side", two-quick taps means "thank you" or "hello".  Bonairians are not in a hurry and they don't expect you to be either.  I figured out that if I drove as though I knew where I was going (even if I didn't), they'd assume I knew where I was going. This is the only time that has worked for me, and I don't know if it was because they were indulgent of idiots or they actually figured I was in the know.

(They also didn't worry about things like losing cement bags off a truck or people falling off the plastic yard chairs out of the back of their pickup truck going around a corner. These things might happen. Or they might not. No worries!)

Here's my little blue rental car, Bonnie:

She was zippy and nimble, and about as big as your average kitchen table (including the trunk). 

I loved driving her, and if I lived in a town, this is the car I'd want...you wouldn't want to take her on long road trips (more than 20 miles), but for errands and small grocery runs, she's perfect. 

For the first day and a half, the radio was stuck on some station that played Katy Perry and Rhihanna. It was dreadful.

And I tried EVERYTHING to change it.

I told Marc (the villa caretaker) about this travesty, he reached in and magically pushed the same button I had been pushing, "voila!" - Bonaire station!  

No worries, then. 

Bonaire's music is fantastic, mostly because you never know what's coming. Mostly it's a Cuban sound, but one morning I got astonishingly bad covers of classic rock done by Central or South American artists. Another morning, the Catholic prayer list was aired and I'm quite sure that each permanent resident of Bonaire was covered by name, individually. Either that or it was the yearly updated birthday calendar.  I don't know for sure because my Papiamentu is limited to "bon dia/bini", "dushi Bonaire", "danki", and "por fabor". 

I drove with my windows down all the time because the island air was soft (as opposed to the harsh cold of the car air conditioner) and I could see and hear the world better. 

It also enabled me to pull over and take pictures very quickly.

Some of these were taken when I pulled over, some were taken when someone else was driving, but here are some of the things I saw around Kralendijk on my daily jaunts to town. 

This was an outdoor mobile of hats and helmets that was on my main drag.

I don't know if they were trophies from road workers and bikers eliminated by this guy or what, but it made me laugh!

And right across the street from the mobile was this mural...which also made me laugh! 

There was what appeared to be a private residence a little further up the road with about 5 cannons mounted on or in its rock walls! 

PIRATES!

(I have no idea, but they may have been reproductions. )

You can't see, but this boat was used as kind of a porch/deck for the folks who lived in the yellow house.  As I'd drive by, the old guys sitting there would look and nod.  I'm sure they knew EVERYTHING about who was doing what in Kralendijk...

I really wish I'd stopped here, because I was curious as to whether it was a fabric store as well as an alteration shop. It was on a big corner of the road back to the villa and I never saw anyone there, so perhaps the business was no longer running.  (While we were there, a medical school closed its doors abruptly, just up the street from this alteration shop.)

This is on the side of a building that housed a radio station!  Murals everywhere! I loved that people painted their houses whatever they wanted and that if they saw a big blank wall, they'd fill it with art and not advertisement for the most part.

The next three pictures are of the TOP building which houses several businesses as it turns out, but the TOP market was the one I shopped at downtown for specific products such as Diet Coke for Doc. It had a surprisingly large inventory of American products.

These murals are done by the Bonaire artist Henk Roozendaal. I love his work and if you like it, too, connect to his website HERE for more images.

This is the back of the stands at Municipal Stadium which is where I was told a World Cup was played but I had my doubts, so I looked it up when I got home.  The games were finals for the Caribbean Football League from what I can understand which is a branch of the International Football League.  (Soccer is a very confusing wad of leagues and I'm still struggling to make sense of it. The complication with the Bonaire football was that it was legally considered a Dutch team, thereby messing up an already convoluted system. I believe they have it somewhat sorted out now, but prior to 2013 they were trying to figure out where they belonged in the big picture of the football world.)

 I took this picture so you could see the width of the streets and their groovy trucks. This was located right before the downtown one-way puzzle.

And I want the Farmer to build me this mailbox.

Is it not the coolest, most tacky thing you've seen in the last month?!

This is the top of what used to be Fort Oranje which was built in 1639 to defend Bonaire's harbor. After a long history of different uses it was renovated and restored in 1999 and is now used for government offices.

 Ah, the traffic signs...
The top blue with a slash through it does not mean you may not enter but that you may not PARK there. Also, beware the trucks that this entrance admits.

The following are a series of murals that were done on a wall across from the airport on the way back into Kralendijk. They seem to be done by different artists who are proud of their island and its culture. I loved them! (Especially the ladies on the beach...)

I'll end the post here because it's getting rather longish, but you get the idea of what it was like to drive to and through the capital "city"!

The Farmer's Wife Abroad {FLAMINGOS! And other birds...}

Here's the thing:

I didn't really care about flamingos at all for most of my life until my sister-in-law Pam gave me a couple for Christmas quite a few years back as a joke we shared due to my living in a trailer house. I planted them at my mailbox where they became a landmark for UPS drivers, neighbors, and visitors from far away places (Missouri).  Over time, the joke became a motif, a motif became a fond signature, and by the time I flew to Bonaire, the signature had become a passion.  

It's the anti-Montana ranchwife thing, these pink birds. 

To be situationally correct, I should be relating to sage hens, sharp tail grouse, meadow larks, or even Canadian geese, but instead the flamingos capture my heart and imagination.  Perhaps it's because I've always felt born out of place here, so flamingos on the prairie are a symbol of that. 

Or they're just stinking cool. 

I mean, REALLY! 

BIG PINK BIRDS!

Who doesn't think they're cool?!?

(My friend Willa McGillicuddy who lives in Florida doesn't think they're cool. She thinks they're mundane. But once I explained to her that it would be like a Floridian having moose as a passion, she comprehended immediately.)

(And now I've gotta send her some tacky Montana moose mugs. She'll be groovily out of place in the swamp and we'll all be happy.)

One of the big pulls for this job was to see flamingos in real life.

And one day...

I did.

These were my first flamingos.

I was driving home from grocery shopping in Kralendijk on the day after we flew into Bonaire and casually looked to the northeast as I drove past some lagoons near the highway, saw some pink things on the water and realized

THOSE ARE FLAMINGOS!!!

Blessedly, there was a pullout right there for people who wanted to go to the marina on the west side of the road, so I slammed on my brakes and whipped in. 

(Even if there hadn't been, the people on Bonaire would have given me a few minutes to take a picture, given a gentle one-tap honk, and away we would have gone.) 

This was as close as I thought I'd get, and it was good enough.

My heart was happy. 

A couple days later, I had the opportunity to go with the group on a dive session/island tour, and we ventured into the wildlife sanctuary on the north part of Bonaire. 

And THERE, I saw flamingos close enough to make me have tears in my eyes and take about 200 pictures.

Here they are...

Soak it up.

Their knees bend backward.

I couldn't stop watching that! 

I'm getting all weirdly sad and flamingo-homesick posting these pictures. (Perhaps because it's COLD and threatening to snow here right now.)  

But flamingos weren't the only birds on Bonaire.

There were parrots (which are called "parakeets", no matter what they looked like). 

Let me give you this description of the birds near our villa:

the doves would be the white collar office people who quietly commuted to work every day and spoke in genteel tones. The parrots, however, would be the rednecks of the neighborhood.  They wore loud colors, said derogatory things about each others mamas while shoving each other around in the trees, and were generally bad mannered but in a good natured sort of way. 

I hung out with them every morning after my run, over coffee, but whenever I tried to take their pictures they acted as though I was going to post the images on "Parrots of Walmart" and flew off  as fast as they could. 

Here are some parrot pictures I managed to quickly snap during my outings on the island...

This picture just illustrates their form and habitat without the distraction of color...

(I'm a sucker for black and white, especially in silhouettes.)

This fellow was one of the boys in the 'hood.  He didn't mean to settle long enough for me to snap his picture, but once I did, he hung around for a little while, chewing on berries.

Wild parakeet near 1000 Steps dive site.  They're hard to pick out because their foliage matches the trees!

My boy from the 'hood; he figured out I was doing the ugly American paparazzi thing and left. (But dig those pretty coverts!)

And then there were the pelicans...

They were fond of showing off during sunsets, dancing and diving in the brilliant ending to each day.

Lastly and leastly were the little foragers of the beaches, tiny piper birds who made me smile with their industrious picking of scruff.

He looks like the flotsam and jetsam he's picking through, doesn't he?

I almost missed him for the good camouflage! 

Their delicacy charms me, always.

I missed so many Bonaire birds! But perhaps I will return and they'll be in the sequel.

 

The Farmer's Wife Abroad {Creatures}

The iguanas...

Oh, my word! 

I'm not exaggerating in the least when I say Bonaire is crawling with them.

There are all sorts of lizard-y creatures on the island but the iguana is king here.

This is the fellow who lives at Villa Lunt. It's hard to tell, here, but he was about three feet long (including his tail)...not a huge iguana, but no small thang either.

We were sitting at the table under the pergola, lunching, when he came creaking out of the leaves and rocks to beg for food. This iguana was actually a performer...he worked for his scraps...and when it looked as though we were not going to sacrifice anything from our plates, he proceeded to nimbly climb this shrub and hang there, looking over his shoulder at us. 

The kids gave him orange chunks and he seemed satisfied with that. 

These are the lizards of Karpata.

I was sitting on the ground in the shade when they started coming out in a line in my direction (also to beg for food).  First three, then six, then finally I think we ended up with eight or nine altogether. I stayed seated, never dreaming they'd be so desperate for almonds that they'd be nearly in my lap!  It was thrilling and nerve-wracking, all at the same time. (Most thrilling experiences ARE, wouldn't you say?) 

Sunning...
(The yellow rock is the name of the dive site.  All designated dive sites are marked by these yellow rocks.  They're by the road, usually.)

This was the big old boss iguana at Karpata. I think it looks like he's wearing lipstick badly, but my sister will probably think "blood!".  And he's got bloodshot eyes. *shivers*

I like the way this picture shows the toes...
He was serious about the almonds, too.

Goats are everywhere, much like the iguanas. 

They're tough.

This picture was taken in Rincon.  I love it because it sums up Bonaire village life so well!

They stop traffic. Tourists take pictures. 

Astonishingly, I didn't get many pictures of the donkeys on Bonaire!

The first part of the week, I thought "I'll take pictures later. They're always out." but when I went looking for them...SERIOUSLY looking for them....they were not to be found.  

This is the last evening, after a long day of last minute touristing, no donkeys...

All of a sudden, from out of nowhere

DONKEYS!!!!

But my camera wasn't set for the low light and relatively high speed, AND we were still driving, so here you go:

I actually kind of like the action in this picture because it captures the feeling of the moment exactly! Slam on the brakes, find the camera with everyone exclaiming about the donkeys, off into the night...