This was a delightful read. Saba seems to embody the ethos of what we call "island time". That is, all the inefficiencies and inconveniences that visitors to the region hit head on. Some people see it as a nuisance, others as unique character that forces you to stop and enjoy the culture you are in.
Barbados is a mix of both. The closer you get to the built up tourist coast the more you expect cashless payments etc. But our East Coast has managed to remain mostly immune. There aren't even any ATMs in the eastern parishes.
We kinda pride ourselves on offering both experiences. But with the pandemic ending our capital has regressed. It was dying before but it's accelerating now. The infrastructure is crumbling and the city is a ghost town by 8 PM. There were plans to bring 24/7 commerce to the island but with many different facets of the economy virtually zombified, that will no longer happen.
Thank you, Shem! I’m consistently delighted by your essays, so it’s nice to know you enjoyed this, too.
We’re feeling lasting effects of the post-pandemic economy, too. I feel like a lot of people didn’t travel during the pandemic, and then sort of…just stopped traveling? Tourism is definitely not back to pre-pandemic levels.
I will have to visit Barbados someday. Except for the buses, it sounds pretty cool.
Do the people of Saba consider themselves Dutch (in a patriotic, nationalist sense), or is it just an administrative thing? Europe's remaining overseas possessions are fascinating to me, their continued existence a strange vestigial reminder of the prewar order.
It's complicated. There are six Dutch islands in the Caribbean, the former "Netherlands Antilles." In 2010, three of these (Aruba, Curacao, and St. Maarten) became independent countries in the Kingdom of the Netherlands--meaning they have more autonomy, but also are responsible for more of their own expenses, though they're still considered Dutch properties. The other three, Bonaire, St. Eustatius, and Saba, became a "special municipality" of the Netherlands. This is most politically akin to a city in the Netherlands, albeit one that is separated from the European Netherlands by a lot of ocean. Like any other city, this means that we can have some of our own local regulations, but not set our own laws. Some conflict arises out of that: There are laws that might make a lot of sense in the European Netherlands, but don't on a tiny tropical island. (Lookin' at you, dumb traffic laws.) Also, Sabans don't get some of the same benefits that Dutch citizens living in Europe do; this also causes some conflict.
That being said, I think almost all Sabans recognize that we'd be kind of hosed without being part of the Netherlands: There are only just over 2000 of us on the whole island, definitely not enough to have an economy that could support nifty stuff like our power grid and some other public works. There is also a fair amount of Dutch patriotism. It is a *big deal* when anyone from the royal family comes to visit. (It is a point of local pride that King Willem-Alexander and Queen Maxima like to scuba dive on Saba.) There is a memorial to the Sabans who died fighting to liberate the European Netherlands from Nazi occupation in World War II; every Liberation Day (May 5) there's a ceremony there.
But also, while many Saba natives can speak Dutch, they don't--they speak English (peppered with a lot of particular Saba words and phrases) instead. They're very proud of Saba's history, including the times it was not Dutch, but belonged to another country. (Saba's been traded around a lot during the golden age of colonialism.) Sabans definitely see themselves as something distinct from being Dutch--and not in the way that someone might be both, say, an American and a Coloradoan, and proud of both.
On a personal note, I aspire to become a citizen. I have about four more years before I can start the process, though.
This was a delightful read. Saba seems to embody the ethos of what we call "island time". That is, all the inefficiencies and inconveniences that visitors to the region hit head on. Some people see it as a nuisance, others as unique character that forces you to stop and enjoy the culture you are in.
Barbados is a mix of both. The closer you get to the built up tourist coast the more you expect cashless payments etc. But our East Coast has managed to remain mostly immune. There aren't even any ATMs in the eastern parishes.
We kinda pride ourselves on offering both experiences. But with the pandemic ending our capital has regressed. It was dying before but it's accelerating now. The infrastructure is crumbling and the city is a ghost town by 8 PM. There were plans to bring 24/7 commerce to the island but with many different facets of the economy virtually zombified, that will no longer happen.
Thank you, Shem! I’m consistently delighted by your essays, so it’s nice to know you enjoyed this, too.
We’re feeling lasting effects of the post-pandemic economy, too. I feel like a lot of people didn’t travel during the pandemic, and then sort of…just stopped traveling? Tourism is definitely not back to pre-pandemic levels.
I will have to visit Barbados someday. Except for the buses, it sounds pretty cool.
Do the people of Saba consider themselves Dutch (in a patriotic, nationalist sense), or is it just an administrative thing? Europe's remaining overseas possessions are fascinating to me, their continued existence a strange vestigial reminder of the prewar order.
It's complicated. There are six Dutch islands in the Caribbean, the former "Netherlands Antilles." In 2010, three of these (Aruba, Curacao, and St. Maarten) became independent countries in the Kingdom of the Netherlands--meaning they have more autonomy, but also are responsible for more of their own expenses, though they're still considered Dutch properties. The other three, Bonaire, St. Eustatius, and Saba, became a "special municipality" of the Netherlands. This is most politically akin to a city in the Netherlands, albeit one that is separated from the European Netherlands by a lot of ocean. Like any other city, this means that we can have some of our own local regulations, but not set our own laws. Some conflict arises out of that: There are laws that might make a lot of sense in the European Netherlands, but don't on a tiny tropical island. (Lookin' at you, dumb traffic laws.) Also, Sabans don't get some of the same benefits that Dutch citizens living in Europe do; this also causes some conflict.
That being said, I think almost all Sabans recognize that we'd be kind of hosed without being part of the Netherlands: There are only just over 2000 of us on the whole island, definitely not enough to have an economy that could support nifty stuff like our power grid and some other public works. There is also a fair amount of Dutch patriotism. It is a *big deal* when anyone from the royal family comes to visit. (It is a point of local pride that King Willem-Alexander and Queen Maxima like to scuba dive on Saba.) There is a memorial to the Sabans who died fighting to liberate the European Netherlands from Nazi occupation in World War II; every Liberation Day (May 5) there's a ceremony there.
But also, while many Saba natives can speak Dutch, they don't--they speak English (peppered with a lot of particular Saba words and phrases) instead. They're very proud of Saba's history, including the times it was not Dutch, but belonged to another country. (Saba's been traded around a lot during the golden age of colonialism.) Sabans definitely see themselves as something distinct from being Dutch--and not in the way that someone might be both, say, an American and a Coloradoan, and proud of both.
On a personal note, I aspire to become a citizen. I have about four more years before I can start the process, though.