Althea Romeo-Mark’s blog

On Saturday the 21st of June, Basel city, was invaded by football fans from Holland.  Around 180.000 people in orange swarmed the city and thus started a spontaneous mood of festivity.  It must have been the color orange that reminded us of the sun and summer.  It was really the official beginning of summer that brightened everyone's spirits causing joy and beer to flow.  There was a street parade led by Dutch fans which everyone joined.  It was an unforgetable moment that reminded everyone of carnival. Fans in orange occupied the banks of the Rhine River.  See accompanying picture below. The Swiss, too, dressed in orange and melted into the sea of orange that flowed through the city, elbow-to-ebow.  Unfortunately Holland lost to the Russians.  We were all very sad. On Wednesday Basel will welcome fan from Turkey and Germany.  We are getting ready for another invasion. It is a once in a lifetime experience that I am happy to share. Funny thing, I am not a football fanatic but I enjoy the atmosphere of spontaneous festivity that it creates.  So far no problems with hooligans.  

Going home to the Virgin Islands is always a great pleasure. Since I have lived outside the United States for over thirty plus years, I always look forward to meeting old classmates from high school and university.  I am more in touch with  friends whom I attended university with. A few are writers and I am closely attached to them because we share a common love for the word.

The Virgin Islands which are located near Puerto Rico, consist of 50 islands, most of which belong to the United Kingdom. The U.S. Virgin Islands where I come consists of three large islands (St. Croix, St. Thomas, and St. John), and other smaller islands. The population is about 100.000 scattered among the islands.  I come from St. Thomas, the middle-sized island of the three.  The U.S. Virgin Islands were once Danish.  The U.S. bought the islands from Denmark in 1917. Virgin Islanders had to go through a transition period before they became U.S. citizens.  We do not yet have the right to vote because we are only a U.S. territory, like Guam. 

When I go home I often visit the beach with my dad who is 94 and my older sister.  We go about three times a week.  It is only a ten minute drive from my sister's house. It is even more exciting when my younger sister, who lives in California, visits. Our favorite beach is Coke Point.

Coki Point Beach
(Not quite a poem)

Sun is never out when we begin
our day at the sea.
We wake Sun up, rouse her from
her sleep with our noisy car engine.

Like a mother, who must rise
when the children are up,
Sun opens her eyes and splashes
brilliant yellow against grey morning,
drags away the silver shimmer
blanketing waves.

We stroll along the whitening shore,
welcome Sun's brightening gaze,
and listen to Sea's quiet invitation
to frolic in it's rolling waves.

We are not alone. There are others
who need Sun's gathering warmth,
the Sea's healing caress, the soothing
quiet of its voice.

We bob up and down in the grey-blue Atlantic,
feel Sun massage our frames, lull in her embrace.
We lose ourselves in ocean's song
that snares our souls forever.

My Island Man

Reggae music's blaring.
I lie bare, toasting.
Sun's rays sweep across
my darkening breasts,
brush my hair, nibble my ears,
play hide and seek with my nose,
dance on my simmering lips.

Shaded eyes net a brown man
strutting on the hot white sand.
His biceps bulge, shoulders swing,
brown thighs gyrate to a ragga beat on the radio.

I want to eat him like a mango,
lick his skin, peel it,
smell it's scent, suck the juice
that is its strength, savor every fiber,
steal his spirit, become Sukannah*
I fly off on a high, island man captured
in thought.

Waking at sunset,
a large mango seed
on my bosom is sucked dry,
fiber, yellow straw.

* Sukannah is a spirit in the Caribbean which is disguised as a human during the day.  At night it has the power to shed its skin and fly from house to house to suck the blood of its victims.  It can be captured if its skin if found and salted. After the skin shrinks, the spirit cannot fit into it again.   Caribbean mythology.

Guest editor

My friends and neighbors,

I was asked by the editor of Sea Breeze Electronic Journal of Contemporary Liberian Writings to serve as guest editor in November, 2007. We chose the theme, The Caribbean Presence in Liberia.  It has been seven months of hard work. The journal is finally out and I would like to share my work with you. I hope that I've made you proud.  Please click on the address below.

Althea

THANKS  ALTHEA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

--
Stephanie Horton
Editor
Sea Breeze Electronic Journal of Contemporary Liberian Writings
http://www.liberiaseabreeze.com/
Althea

Teaching English As A Foreign Language

My job is an interesting one.  I teach English as a foreign language at two private schools for adults. One is the Migros Klubschule, the other is Volkshochschule Beider Basel.  The second is an arm of the University of Basel.  My students range from age 18 to 85.  Both schools offer a range of languages from Arabic to Chinese, Japanese, Greek, Thai, Hungarian, English, of course, to Scandinavian  Languages.  No African languages though. But Latin/Romance languages  of course.  The most popular languages are  German which people need to work in Switzerland and English which people need for  traveling and sometimes for work. I also teaching English conversation. One  class lasted ten years and ended after most of the students ( ranging from age  55 -85) decided it was time to retire.  Some were too old to participate meaningfully in conversations, the text was getting too difficult, and they were at a standstill, no longer able to progress because of age related illnesses. Some have since died. They pushed themselves until they no longer could.  They say the more languages you learn, the better to ward off memory related diseases.

At present I have a very interesting class.  It is not my typical class filled with Swiss students. This class is new and has students from many nationalities. They come from Mexico, Brazil, the Dominican Republic, Morocco,  Italy, the former Yugoslavia, Turkey and Switzerland.  It creates a special dynamic especially when it comes to talking about how cultures are different regarding food, marriage and customs in general.

I teach mornings and evenings from 6-10 p.m. And in between I prepare lessons for my classes that range from absolute beginners to Intermediate conversation where we read short stories and news articles and discuss them.  They learn a lot of new vocabulary  and idiomatic expressions in the process.  It is a very interesting job. 

Talk to you soon.
Clippings II

Miss Mavis buried,

we sort out stuff

she hoarded.

Mementos are her life-story.

Newspaper clippings of her engagement

and assorted social events,

dried brittle roses she cut and preserved

from her prize-winning garden,

a fleece pullover made from

wool sheared off Australian sheep,

reels of films featuring snippets of

cartoons shown before the movies

her husband featured at his theatre.

We chat, the news scraps in hand,

and recall the time Mavis was enraged

and charged Lilly with a broomstick,

clipped her wings after she

sneaked out to see a boy one night.

Mom laughs that Mavis had

rushed at her with a frying pan

after she stood her ground 

against Mavis’ tampering

in people’s affairs.

Mavis' photo beams back.

There’s an effusive smile filled

with a youth we’d never seen.

Sharp lively eyes gaze from

a face empty of confrontation.

Nostalgia sweeps us.

We promise to preserve

what she deemed precious-

her life's clippings.

Althea Romeo-Mark

Myopic Cyclops

I

“Camera Flash”

Seen from a distance

I am summed up

at a glance

written off

or indelibly

written into minds.

A memory

in a computer bank

I become

spilled out sameness

spilled out sameness

spilled out sameness.

II

“SNAP CRACKLE POP”

Sue broke up with John today

and he gunned downed

some people at his office

strangers at a fast food chain

and on a train.

Then came psychoanalytical hysteria

in the multi-media, a cyclonic frenzy

on the information highway.

He was quiet and polite.

He was the perfect neighbour.

He was………..? But,

I remember once his

behaviour was odd.

Was he a Jekyll and Hyde?

© Althea Romeo-Mark 1994

EACH ONE MUST WALK THIS WAY

Dey say, 

granny tek it easy

stay out de kitchen

you hands tremble

spill you tea, drop dishes.

Granny,

you too eager

to help youself

an' others

sit down, doan bother.

 Irritation march cross faces

when granny haul memory

out she cupboard

like she making inventory.

Dey sit like dey in ants nest

not listening--

granny reciting poetry

granny singing.

 Dey put her out

in a chair

after tea and biscuits

in a shady corner

on she porch.

Neighbors dash by

shouting hurry hurry

howdy-dos

not waiting her reply.

But she doan mine

too much.

Granny say

green mango get ripe

fall down from tree. 

(c) Althea Romeo-Mark

Published in The Caribbean Writer

I finally have a little breathing space.  I have been very busy working as guest-editor for Sea Breeze Journal of Contemporary Liberian Writings (www.liberiaseabreeze.com ). I am responsible for the May edition which focuses on the Caribbean Presence In Liberia.  Liberia is located on the West African Coast.  It is a country that was settled by freed slaves with the help of the American Colonization Society which was made up of many abolitionist. Many Liberians are also descendants of Caribbean people who returned to Liberia in the mid 1800s.  I lived in Liberia for 14 years and taught at the University of Liberia.  My three children were born there.  We have since lived in London and now Switzerland.  We are citizens of the world.  It is a wonderful feeling.

I spent last weekend in Geneva, Switzerland atttending the Geneva International English Writers Conference. It was wonderful to meet novelists, playwrights, poets and non-fiction writers who helped to guide us, less experienced writers, down the paths to becoming better writers.  It was wonderful to meet fellow writers from all over the world and walk along the promenade of Lake Geneva during out spare free time. I had the opportunity to read my poems to an audience of fellow writers--some famous, some not so famous but we share a love of writing.

This week is Carnival in Basel, Switzerland.  It is called Fastnacht and is different from Canival in Brazil because it is winter and cold, very Germanic and there are lots of drummers and flutists and brass bands and costumes which feature very grotesques heads, i.e. large masks which exaggerated features. There is a picture of a carnival scene on my blog.

Hope to talk to you soon,

althea

My Wish for You in 2008