Despite my homeland being the CCTV capital of the world, I have never up until now felt that I was being watched. In England cameras are live at every level, be it a curse or a blessing. Guadeloupe does not believe in such a system. Rather than the cameras and their red blinking eyes, here we have Guadeloupean men. Poised and staring from every angle.
Unlike the discreet wink of red bulb, the men here do not hesitate in their attempts to blind you. At a house warming party just recently I was 'enlightened' by a Gwad. He explained the story of his upbringing, and how his eleven siblings from six different mothers and the same father, were all down to genetics. Apparently his father's inability to keep it in his pants is a genetic problem! And the poor brothers, how they suffer! One indulged me in his philosophy, to live life just for himself and nobody else. A great idea in theory I guess, but in practice a lot harder to live by without constantly being reminded of the consequences. Here - eleven children to support. This genetic 'disorder' is no doubt aggravated by the brothers' charm and their smiles that would make even the most sensible of girls throw caution to the wind.
Living in Guadeloupe has been my first experience living as a minority; it has given me a renewed respect for people of colour facing problems here in England. At least 80% of the Guadeloupean population is of Black or Indian descent creating a veritable cultural melting pot in the middle of the Caribbean sea. Whilst some Guadeloupean cling on to a certain bitterness towards the white French holidaymakers, who are still viewed as the money splurging colonists, others are a tad more welcoming. As a tall, ginger, English speaking white girl I was often met with very puzzled looks.
As I become accustomed to all eyes on me. Perhaps you should ask yourself who is watching you?
