On Monday's we Make Banana Bread

by Chiu Yi Hannah Yukon (United States of America)

A leap into the unknown Barbados

Adventure is like the crazy aunt you've heard about but never met until she shows up with a Pomeranian and parachute asking you to belay her down a building that she owns. In May 2016, that aunt presented herself in the form of my college friend Amanda and our collective decision to skip commencement and travel to Barbados. On our first day we got scammed by "The Doctor" who sold us tobacco on the beach, claiming it was potent hash. As we were sharing that story with some people at a bar later that evening, we were met with some 20 year olds who shared our indignation (and love for marijuana) and hooked us up with some Bajan goods. For the next few days, Amanda and I strolled around the island eating roti, visiting Bajan bakeries and snorkeling with sea turtles. It was great. On our second to last day on the island we decided to make a 2 hour journey to Crane Beach. We were craving a hike and wanted to see where Rihanna lived. The bus dropped us off 10 minutes away from the scenic route. We followed the sounds of the waves crashing against the breakwater. As we approached the rocks, we smelled the blissful aroma of salt water and weed. When we turned a corner up the sandy trail we found three people seated at the top of a rock drinking out of coconuts, passing a joint around. Jackpot. Our new friends were a Canadian-American couple who "were like locals" on the island. They were newly married and were on a business trip. After we ordered coconuts, they invited us down to their spot on the beach. About an hour went by before they invited us back to their boss's house for dinner. Their boss, Christopher, picked us up and brought us home where he asked requested we shower and change into his clothes. Through the veranda he gave us a tour of his garden where over 40 different fruit tress populated the parameters of his house. He was an art dealer on the island and had to protect his collection from drug lords who lived near by (which explained his gun collection and the two German Shepards who followed him everywhere) He told us to take our shoes off as soon as we entered his living room where 500 Persian rugs were unceremoniously staked on top of each other. For dinner he brought out a bong and homemade salted fish, bread, and pickled vegetables that he grew in his garden. The evening was filled with laughter, politics, art, and marriage. Amanda and I could not believe where we were. He asked us if we wanted to stay with him for our final day. He wanted companionship for his weekly exercise hike. He wanted to know if we could become his long-term visitor-friends in exchange for sexual favors and we politely declined. Later on that evening when it was time to leave, we were standing in the kitchen and I pointed to a painting that caught my eye. Our new friends from Crane beach were a little drunk at this point. They leaned in and told us that that painting was worth more than all the rugs combined. The husband leaned in and whispered, "so we're actually art smugglers and we're catching a flight tonight to deliver some work back to Canada. Christopher will give you both a ride home. Our private plane leaves in 2 hours so we gotta head back to our hotel. Email us when you get back to America. We'll be in touch." I sat in the back of Christopher's car while Amanda sat in front and looked out the window while I engaged Christopher in conversations about milk. He offered to take us to the airport the next day but again, we politely declined. When we turned the key into our air BnB we both walked to the back patio, calmly rolled a joint, and let out a collective scream. We emailed the couple from Crane Beach when we got back to America and found Christopher on Facebook wedged in-between his German Shepards, sugarcane planation in the background, smiling without teeth.