Dear Nesta,
How you, dear heart? I still hey, tryin’ to keep, aldoh sometimes, I don’ know ef t’ings turnin’ out all dah successful dese days. I keep prayin’ fuh much-needed miracles, but de universe treatin’ muh like Guvment – turnin’ a deaf ear. So all I could do is wait, an’ keep on waitin’.
We might got we problems, but when I stop an’ study ’bout dem po’ Texans an’ de amounk o’ trouble duh now facin’ sence dah turrble tornado recently rip duh up, I still glad fuh small mercies.
Wid a paff two miles wide, dah storm had to cause nuff destruction an’ it gine tek some while fuh life to settle back down. We hurricanes bad, but dem tornadoes ten times wuss. When I see pictures ’pon TV, de houses always look so brek-up, I wonder wuh buildin’ material people use over dey. Wuhevah it is, it need changin’.
I always tell Philomena I don’ see de body dat could get muh to even t’ink ’bout mekkin’ de attemp’ to go to de States to live. No soul, life ’pon dis li’l rock might not be de easies’ right now, but I en got one place else to go. So de Amurican Embassy en evah got to t’ink ’bout facin’ dah problem from me.
Nowadays, it don’ seem any state in Amurica safe from dese tornadoes. Yuh could get blow ’way anyplace, anytime. An’ apart from dem, yuh also got to deal wid turrble floods (remember Katrina?) washin’ yuh ’way, fores’ fires lastin’ days, finally burnin’ out an’ leffin’ yuh wid jes’ mem’ries, an’ hurricanes. Well, people in Florida could tell yuh ’bout dem.
Somehow, all dese wevver problems don’ prevent de bariffle o’ “crazies” from walkin’ ’bout, mowin’ yuh down, an’ any ethuh innocent body in duh way, fuh no reason a-tall. A gun like it is de easies’ t’ing to get over dey.
I hope yuh now onderstan’ why dis is one Bajan dat en got de slightes’ desire to migrate to de “greates’ country in de worl’” – mos’ Amuricans feel so, y’know. I lef’ it to all dem folk dyin’ to get over to try duh luck at becomin’ millionaires overnight. I glad fuh duh.
Well, June monf hey a’ready, an’ somet’ing else to add to we problems – hurricanes. I only hope God keep on rememberin’ ‘E’s a Bajan an’ continue to keep we safe.
But it en only de t’ought o’ hurricanes dat got nuff o’ we lookin’ so depress. T’ings static – we jes’ waitin’. I hear a picture could say a t’ousan’ words, an’ de one I lookin’ at show my nighbers in de Turnin’ wid long, tired faces waitin’ fuh life to get better. Cyhan pay utility bills, nuff outta wuk, food prices goin’ outta reach, an’ evabody cryin’ out.
De cries en loud enuff, doh, ’cause it en seem duh reachin’ ears dat matter. We gine ha’ to sen’ out a SOS – but to who? I’s one body dat feel evah problem got a solution. But dis time I could be wrong.
By de way, Philomena come home las’ night quarrellin’, as nusual, ’bout food prices. Always tryin’ to hang she hat whey she cyhan reach it, she decide to try out one o’ de “big-up” supermarkets. Well, she fly outta dey as ef Satan an’ ’e imps was behin’ she when she tek up a piece o’ beef (still won’ stop de meat-eatin’) an’ realize it cos’ $95.
I trus’ dah meat din local, but even ef it did come from abroad, de price still was ridiculous. In dese hard times, you t’ink we should encourage supermarkets in sellin’ food at dese prices in Buhbayduss? I en cay how rich de “rich” is.
Tek care o’ yuhself.
Yuh frien’, Babsie
