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Port de Paix dwellers



The inhabitants of Port de Paix, a French colony, are now busy with celebrating Saint Jean d'Ete and a wedding among the highest nobility. Time for everyone who happens to be in Port de Paix to know them better… and to add your personal flavour to the holiday!

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 Saint John’s Summer Fires, Open to all commoners and passers by
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 Posted: Jun 28 2016, 01:27 PM
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Monseigneur GUILLAUME du RUISSEAU, bishop of Saint Domingue



Date: 23-th of June 1720, late afternoon
Place: Port de Paix, Saint Domingue, Hispaniola


Monseigneur Guillaume du Ruisseau, bishop of Saint Domingue, was already tired. He had performed the morning mass, then an important wedding which couldn’t have been left to a parrish priest, be him the one of the Cathedral – it wasn’t often that a Rear-Admiral married a Governor’s daughter. Afterwards, he went to the reception hall to bless the wedding reception table, according to the tradition, and now he had just finished performing the Mass of Saint John, on the fair ground, for the whole attendance.

”Just three birthdays are celebrated by the Church in the Liturgy each year – that of Jesus at the winter solstice, his mother’s on 8th September and that of his cousin John the Baptist near midsummer’s day. John’s birthday comes just after the longest day of the year, when the light begins to decline — just as Jesus’ birthday is after the shortest day. The placing of these two feasts summarises John the Baptist’s mission: I must decrease, he must increase,” he had stated, preparing himself for a task he didn’t always have: lighting the fire of Saint John.

These were the usual prayers of this day, one of the most important in the Catholic calendar. The commoners, in towns and villages, revered it too, even if they added some additional features to it and meanings connected to the agricultural year. These meanings weren't as valid here in the Colonies, where the climate was different, but, by virtue of tradition, they were equally kept.

”Surrounded by the Light of God, we remember our sins and see them disappear, in God’s forgiveness. You raise the dead to life in the Spirit, You bring pardon and peace to the sinner, You bring light to those in darkness - Lord, have mercy,” he preached, and the crowd repeated every verse after him.

It was the right time to light the first bonfire and go his merry way. A moment he had awaited since he felt tiredness enveloping him. Soon he could rest, soon...

Monseigneur Guillaume du Ruisseau let the flame of the torch touch the dry firewood of the hugely built pyramid of sticks, then he started praying loudly, while the orange glow of the quickly spreading flames was flickering almost hypnotically, lighting up the faces of the bishop and those nearby:

”O God, Who hast honored this world by the birth of Saint John the Baptist, grant that Thy faithful people may rejoice in the way of eternal salvation, through Jesus Christ Our Lord.”

The festivities were open. The people may rejoice, even if he knew well some would abuse the feast in not too Christian ways. But he needed a glass of wine now, and a good meal, as tomorrow there would be a day full of religious services as well. He gave his blessings urbi et orbi before retiring in his residence. He knew he could have returned to the great reception hosted by the Governor, but he didn't feel like doing it. This climate was too demanding on his not yet accustomed body.

This post has been written by ELENA
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Thierry Vounos
 Posted: Jun 28 2016, 02:21 PM
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It was a popular holiday that Leftheris remembered kindly from his own country, one he had always loved attending.

Like almost everywhere where he had witnessed it later, flowers were picked up and crowns were tressed, with songs and dances. What was different in Greece, though, was the game of tokens, which he hadn’t seen elsewhere. He tried to explain it to Mora, on their way to the fair ground:

”Early in the morning, two of the youngest girls of the Greek village or neighbourhood, carrying a pot, went to all the girls of marriageable age, then to the widows, to collect small tokens which could be hidden in a fist. The girls gave usually hair pins, little combs, brooches or necklaces, if not an embroidered handkerchief, fo the sort used in the dances. Then, later in the evening, around the fire, the young men gathered into a circle, the little girls being in the middle and the ones who had given tokens on an outside circle, and the game started. The youngest girl of the two little procession leaders was silent, taking a token from the pot and keeping it hidden. The other one asked the young men who would want to sing. One of them had to gather the courage, and afterwards, the little girl showed the token, gave it to him… and it was up to the girl in question to get it back, eventually, with the price of a dance or a kiss.”

Here, in the Caribbean, customs were different, but not less interesting. And being with Mora and the whole family to enjoy them was an added bonus.

Instead of focusing on the Latin words of the mass, which flew by his ears, as he didn’t understand what wasn’t close to the Venetian which, by twists of fate, had become his second mother tongue, Leftheris kept thinking gratefully in his own words. Certainly he had what to thank for this time. He was praying for the safety of his ship, for Mora’s love, for the success of the recently opened inn they owned together, and he was giving thanks for all the good things in his life. Not that he had ever been too religious, but he believed in God, no matter that he had been raised Orthodox, not Catholic. Ultimately, God was everywhere, and Saint John was revered both by Ortodoxes and Catholics.

As the priest had finished his last prayer and the flames had engulfed the stacked wood, the dances could start.

”Let’s dance all of us the ronde around the fire! It would bring us happiness for the whole year,” he told Mora, Iseult and the children.

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 Posted: Jul 8 2016, 01:29 PM
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EMMANUEL LEGRAND & VALERIAN SEVERN & JACQUES TOURINHO, sailors


Valerian had been glad to spend some more time ashore, because it meant more time with his father, who was slowly recovering. He was worried that the doctor had said it might be dangerous for him to sail for the next few months. He knew the effect inactivity had on his father’s mind and morale. But today it was not a day to think about parties. Damn, he wasn’t even thinking at the lavish reception at which his father, if able to attend, would have been invited, and he would have accompanied him. Two generations of Valerian Severn partying together… was too nice to happen for real. His father was home, in bed, and he was roaming with his crewmates through the fair, watching the puppets and the jugglers.

Jacques’ mind had been wandering here and there, feeling a little homesick when remembering that in his country, besides the procession of the saint, saluted by multicoloured handkerchiefs and drum beats, the summerfire feast was also celebrated with a show of the horsemen, demonstrating their skills with all kind of acrobatics, but here jugglers and fools weren’t lacking either. The fires burnt also straw dolls that each household made, hoping that everything bad will burn together with them. Jacques would have liked his strange mood to burn with them too, when the smell of smoke permeated the air.

Maybe if he got a dance partner later, this mood would vanish. And even the feeling of camaraderie that crossed age, culture and social status among those who drank together and partied together was enough to achieve it. So, he remained with Emmanuel and Valerian, ready to make merry at the festival.

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 Posted: Jul 8 2016, 01:44 PM
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NEIL DONOVAN & BARTHEMY MADIANA, ship carpenters


Neil was sad that Jack was not with him. Imp had vanished in the crowd too, as he hadn’t wanted to go to church, while Neil, devout Catholic, did. There were plenty of reasons to thank Saint John for his mercy. So what if he wasn’t the patron saint of sailors and carpenters, but of innkeepers and tailors? He was alive after several instances during latest months when he could have not made it. This was the most important part, so praying, lighting candles and eating a piece of blessed pain de Saint Jean received from a woman were all part of the beginning of the holiday.

”Isn’t it too big for you to eat it alone?” he heard a question, in this French spoken here around, with a strong Creole accent.

He could eat a whole turkey alone, but this was another matter, and the guild brother who had asked this question had a good point; sharing was part of the holiday too.

”It might be,” he confirmed to the Navy carpenter’s mate, letting him break an approximate half of the little bread. ”Take some, blessed be Saint John and all who eat it in His memory.”

"Then I provide the cider later," the older man replied. "Blessed be, and may He help us all."

Neil laughed. He would have preferred ale, but in Port de Paix, he had learnt his lesson that wines and cider, depending on the time of the day or night, were peferable to ale.

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 Posted: Jul 8 2016, 02:32 PM
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JOHN GIBBENS & ROBERT O’CONNOR & NED BARNES


Little John was glad to be ashore again, but not exactly glad to be in that damn port of frogs. They had overstayed here so many times, and now… again? What was wrong with Kingston, or Nassau? There people spoke English, even if the locals with an impossible accent. Here, who could understand their babbling? Not to mention how quickly to brawl those were… He still remembered a tavern brawl here before the blockade, which was close to leaving him too closely acquainted with the French prison.

Well, most people got shore leave today, tomorrow or both, and the festival was nice to see. But he wasn’t into dancing, and even less into finding himself a lass. Not that the cinnamon and caramel coloured ones wouldn’t be pretty… only that he wasn’t good at talking with women in English, so what to say about a foreign language he didn’t know at all? He had eaten and drunk some brandy – what was theirs, to be praised, those frogs had a very good brandy – together with other crewmates, but later they went to the dance, and he remained, a small bottle of brandy in hand, all alone. Little John tried to look around for a familiar face… until he found it: a ship boy was still a compatriot he could get understood with.

It was a nice day for Ned, even if he had lost the other sailors he had left the ship with. Maybe he didn’t even miss them… at least he hadn’t for a while, when Ned stopped to look at the jugglers and fools, not before buying a star-shaped sweet bread.

But wandering through the fair, Ned was actually hoping to see a known face. Anybody’s. The soldiers and sailors were usually in groups of three to six, laughing and commenting. Somewhere around he should find one of the friendly ones.

”Hello! May I join you?” he asked Little John.

”You’re welcome.”

And if he was lucky, maybe the boy had caught some of the allies’ language… More than himself, Little John mused.

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Jose Silveira
 Posted: Jul 9 2016, 07:19 PM
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Jose had been happy when Nicole had invited him to this feast. She appeared to think that Jose had no idea of this party. But Jose knew this day very well, even while not how it was celebrated in the French way. He would tell her of his homeland’s and her colonies’ traditions to celebrate St.John's’ day.

He had prepared well for this. He had a haircut at a local barber and he had his best sailor’s clothes on, which he crowned with a bright scarlet red sash sailors from his country sometimes used.

They were mere friends or acquaintances with Nicole, but he wanted to give a charming impression. Perhaps things would change, but this was not a place to be hasty. He was a hasty character for the most part so he knew this needed some patience.

As a fairly religious catholic Jose prayed diligently even while waiting for the celebrities to properly open was tiresome. When the fairs alike were finally opened and people started moving Jose asked from Nicole, “Is this your first St. John's party here? I have seen them only in my homeland and Brazil, not in other colonies.”

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Nicole Cavalier
 Posted: Jul 10 2016, 11:46 AM
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At Jose's latest visit to the shop, less than one week ago, Nicole had told him about the upcoming festival. Indeed, just because he was a foreigner, she had thought he might not know about it. She was less heavy-hearted then, as Madame Lucia's health improved and she had seemed to be past the close encounter with the Black Lady. The woman doctor the Rear-Admiral had brought seemed to have done wonders where the town doctor had given up. If previously Nicole had thought about mourning and what to do in that worst case, when good news were certain, it was time to think about celebrating life and giving thanks to the saints.

It wasn't a direct invitation, more like a suggestion, but she was glad that it was enthusiastically accepted. Saint John's feast was a good opportunity to wear again her good dress, which had been modified for Easter and worn only in church on that holiday and on Ascension. It fitted her well now, not showing anymore that it had been initially made for a fifteen years girl. It had a new bodice, of a darker shade of blue, indigo died, complementing the initial light blue material, and a strip of the same indigo-died addition on the back of the outside petticoat, a matching shawl which was the Easter gift received from her mistress, and a bracelet of indigo beads made by Ghislaine.

Jose looked younger with a fresh haircut and shaved, receiving an appreciation look and a warm smile. She wasn't as daring as to compliment him openly.

They went first to church, to pay their hommages to the saint. It happened briefly, though. Tomorrow was also a time for prayers, and maybe a better one. Nicole was aware what day was today, and she didn't want to cross paths with the nuptial cortege even by chance, while other people were lingering in the Cathedral for this very reason, to see the happy couple. It would have felt like a betrayal to Madame Lucia, in her opinion of a loyal friend more than employee. So she felt relieved when they found themselves on the fair grounds without having met whom she didn't want to.

Jose's question made her smile:

"I have come to the colonies when I was ten years old, so no, it is not the first time I am attending the festival. In the first two-three years, I used to go with my mother, who bought me some ginger bread and paid me a ride in the swings," she remembered with sadness in her voice. "The following years I was alone, or rather… working," she added, without mentioning that it was pickpocketing what she used to do, and crowds were heaven-sent for those like her then.

There were enough stalls with various items, so she could have been a vendor somewhere, in theory.

"How did you celebrate back home? How is it in Brazil?" she asked with curiousity, while passing by various stalls.

She wasn't the kind of young woman interested in spending money recklessly or making others spend money for her, so she gave them only a brief glance.

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Mora Vargas
 Posted: Jul 10 2016, 10:55 PM
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Mora wasn't as religious as she had been in her childhood. Saint John didn't mean much for her anymore. A life ago, when at home in Cartagena, yes, it was her brother's name's day and a big holiday. Now, nothing interesting. Ten days ago, on her name's day, she had gone to church by her own initiative, while Thierry was at sea, praying for herself and for her children, and lighting up a candle in the memory of her father, who was also mentioned at the mass for the dead. She hadn't prayed for Thierry right then; it didn't seem fair, since in her opinion San Antonio was less the matchmaker saint the lonely women appealed to, and more a reminder of her childhood - her patron saint, her late father's and her son's, as he was named Carlos Antonio.

Now, she had accompanied Thierry just because she knew he'd like it, and so would the children when seeing the church adorned festively. Not as festively as back home, though… She had prayed for the success of the new venture, while in church, and for her new partner; it was normal. Then, when heading towards the fair ground, she listened to Thierry's description of the traditions in his country. It seemed a bit childish but funny, she mused.

The place was crowded – people talking, dancing, singing, eating, drinking… The music was nice, and Mora and her family enjoyed the holiday. Maire and Carlin were more curious than her about the various stalls, and Thierry seemed decided to spoil them, as usually when going to town.

She had started telling him about the way they used to celebrate San Juan at home, in Cartagena, and even how her parents had met at such a festival, in Granada. She hadn't made such confessions to anyone else than Iseult up to now. But when she heard the invitation to dance, she refused bluntly:

"Dancing is just a waste of time. Why would I do it? I hate music and dancing!"

Carlin, cowering at her outburst, knew that it was true, and that she had forbidden it to him as well. But he longed to dance and sing... and the pleading look he threw to Leftheris was expressive.

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Jose Silveira
 Posted: Jul 16 2016, 09:15 PM
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Jose nodded, “I have seen a few of these festivals too...” She had experience it seemed. As she told that she had to spend some of the festivals alone or working it was a little tragic too, he thought. Nothing was more tragic at party time than to have to work in Jose's opinion.

He told about the partying rituals of his home region and its colonies. He had always thought his people knew how to party better than any other, “We have Festa de São João on June 24. It was much fun in Lisbon, even for us poorer folk. There we even have nice costume parties and many romantic things to remember our beloved ones. Especially in the Northern parts of the country I have seen, or rather heard of as I was not much of a traveller in my home country, many nice festivities too. A lot of decoration, dancing and food like grilled sardines and good soup. Especially in some parts of the country altars, dedicated to the Saint and they are put up as a way of asking for good fortune." His mouth was getting dry of this talking, but as there was no drink in his hand he continued after a pause, "In the Colonies, Brazil mostly, we also have nice festival called ‘Festa Junina’ that follows similar tracks. I think some priest, which I met, who had newly arrived, disliked the amount of pagan ways included, but usually people are happy with their nice parties. I saw a few myself, while in many years I was working. As a nice little detail I can say if you ever visit Brazil during their festival try a drink called "quentão". I don’t remember how they did it, but it is interesting… Perhaps a bit strong too at least for a lady, but I think you could like it for example. I wonder if anyone here can make it… I can tell more details for sure, but I think this should settle your curiosity for a while. Or not?” He smirked. He liked to talk and would have been happy to continue his story as well.

Jose commented then after a glance around the partying people and all markets and the like, “I think this is a bit less colourful than in my country, but very nice too. I see a lot of people have gathered here to enjoy themselves… Just like one should. This is one of the main Saint holidays and we should remember them together with our Lord and also I am sure they all would also want us to enjoy their parties.” He looked around seeming even a bit nervous, "Where we could find something to drink... I mean anything.. Maybe just juice or something." Being thirsty was not fun and there might even be some special drinks offered today.

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Nicole Cavalier
 Posted: Jul 21 2016, 03:20 PM
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Nicole enjoyed hearing about other countries’ customs.

”We have altars to the saint too, both today and on the 29-th, when it’s Saint Pierre, my late brother’s feast. I heard that both these saints are good for those who are working the land. They are watching over the crops,” she tried to explain how she had understood.

His storytelling was vivid, she could imagine them transposed into a Brazilian festival, even more brilliant and blooming than this one.

”How fortunate for you to have had the opportunity to travel and see so many things!” Nicole said with obvious admiration when he told her about the festival in Brazil. ”I guess I would have tasted the drink once, to know how it was, even if I wouldn’t like it enough to have more than one sip,” she referred at the strong drink Jose had mentioned.

And speaking about drinks, it was normal to feel thirsty after having walked in the heat.

”Let’s look for some juice, cider or mead, whatever you like more,” she said, while they were passing next to a place where some street musicians and a dancer were having a performance.

She had seen them before, they were known in Port de Paix for about two years. Back then, Nicole was grateful that people were paying too much attention to the dancer to care about their own purses, and there had been also a time when she envied the dancer's grace - but then Nicole had never danced at all, so anyone was better than her.

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Thierry Vounos
 Posted: Jul 21 2016, 03:40 PM
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Leftheris was interested in her tales about the Spanish traditions, about midnight baths and coin tossing.

”I’d like us doing the same thing tonight,” he said. ”Even if the children won’t resist and would need to go to sleep a couple of hours earlier. I bet they would be too tired after the eventful day.”

He didn’t expect, though, the strong reaction about the dance. His attempt at changing her mind was mild and pleading:

”You said your parents met at such a holiday, in the dance. Why wouldn’t you try to be less business-oriented for a day, and more towards merry-making and dancing? It isn’t a waste of time, it is the communication between two souls. Or even three sometimes, and when I say this, I remember a dance from my country, and a party in three men held in Kingston at the May festival. We succeeded to build a connection beyond words, beyond allegiances, beyond the distance separating us from our homeland. I am ready to try this with you too, later. If there will be a dance from your country, I want to learn it too, for your sake. You know that I am learning your language too,” he whispered the ending phrase, in Spanish, in her ear.

Everything he had said was true – from his ambition to learn Spanish, first with Prospere’s help, then with Adrien’s and Louis’, to the unforgettable party in Kingston, now knowing that it was with two pirates, what then he had been oblivious to. Leftheris threw her a gaze full of longing and tenderness, his words saying wiser words than what his eyes showed he was actually feeling:

”If you don’t want to dance, I won’t insist. It is your decision that I will respect. I would ask you to allow the children and Iseult in the ronde, though, until the tune changes.”

He had seen already that both Maire and Carlin wanted into the circle, close to the fire. He wanted to make them flower crowns too, later, like his siblings wore at that age, back in Gramvousa…

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Mora Vargas
 Posted: Aug 4 2016, 02:23 PM
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Mora looked at him, almost not believing his words. He was ready to do something rather unusual to him, just because it was a part of her country’s traditions, and something she had done, before, with her full family, many years ago – and he was considerate in thinking about the children too.

”I haven’t done it since I was eleven or twelve. I’d like sharing this moment with you,” she said. ”Iseult would bring the children home and put them to bed.”

Maybe it would help leaving the past behind. Maybe now, that she had found her sister and she had an understanding man by her side (as long or as little as she had him around) she would be able to start healing her tormented soul. Maybe Maribel was right…

Of course, Mora wouldn’t admit that his words might make sense; if she could let go for one day, and be more like the happy girl she used to be at home in Cartagena before misfortunes struck… how would this be?

She smiled indulgently at hearing a story she had heard before – about him and his compatriots, on May Day or before, on Mardi Gras. She could sympathize about missing a homeland, about building a connection with someone… was a connection what she needed now? And yes, he had told her that he was learning Spanish; he was trying before to tell her various things in her mother tongue. Sometimes she smiled at his accent, or she was amused. She or Carlin corrected him. But he was willing also to learn the dances she liked the most? Was any dance in this world she liked?

What surprised her more was the decision that he wouldn’t insist on getting her to dance. Nobody had ever declared to respect her decision. Not even the children who should obey her out of filial duty, and for her knowing better what was good for them. She took a deep breath, not to shed a tear out of surprise. He was indeed a more delicate man than she would have ever thought… or, actually, there had been plenty of small opportunities to see this. And his request was only fair for the others. She couldn’t take this decision, today, in their names:

”Yes, I don’t mind anyone willing to go dance,” she said. ”Iseult, Carlin, Maire, go catch yourselves in the farandole if this is what you want. I’ll go to that stall, to take a glass of cider while waiting for you.”

The three didn’t expect more than Mora’s words to head to the circle, pushing Thierry with them.

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Thierry Vounos
 Posted: Aug 9 2016, 11:43 AM
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So she wasn’t adverse to sharing the holiday with him. It sort of meant starting a new life together, in a way – wasn’t it what all the latest bureaucratic adventures in opening and running an inn entailed? Of course, it had to come step by step – if she wasn’t willing to dance, why would he force her? At least, she approved for the children to go dance the farandole. Leftheris had caught the steps from the previous holidays he had spent in France and in the colonies.

”We’ll meet you at the stall,” he told her.

Iseult came with them to dance, maybe because it appealed to her too, or maybe just because she didn’t trust him with both children, even if he was in their middle, Carlin to his right and Maire to his left, the children shouting enthusiastically while trying to learn the steps.

"It's so nice!" Carlin shouted with enthusiasm. "I wish mama let me dance more!"

Leftheris had a suspicion why Mora forbade her children to dance, but he didn't understood why she didn't want to.

"Then enjoy today as it is! I promise you that later, after we eat - both food and sweets - I'll teach you another dance as well."

It was a dance from his country he was thinking about... and it meant only if Babkak and his band was around. When he had met his compatriots, back in February or in May, he had dreamt to dance once a karsilamas with Mora. But as this wasn't possible, teaching a male zeibekiko to Carlin would be a good idea too, now when he was without the others.

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Jose Silveira
 Posted: Aug 22 2016, 03:01 PM
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She mentioned her late brother as they spoke of the Saints. Jose raised his eyebrows for this mention even while it was not odd. Many people had late brothers and sisters, “I am sorry to hear of your late brother…” He said casually, thinking that it was probably somewhat old thing and not so delicate matter anymore.

Jose added an unromantic notion about travelling “Well travelling is not that fun all the time. I think I spent more days in Brazil suffering from one sickness or another than I spent healthily on my feet…”He did not add any nasty details even while he was about to. He did not want to be vulgar. It was different to talk with a woman like her and his rough sailor mates.

Jose did not have any peculiar needs for drink, but he said, “Any drink that helps thirst is fine for me, but I would like to taste something seasonal, or local. So if you know any drinks like that, or local foods too, feel free to guide me to them.” He added with a broad smile.

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Nicole Cavalier
 Posted: Aug 23 2016, 03:07 PM
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Nicole bowed her head in gratitude for Jose’s condolences. Indeed, that had happened many years ago. Her parents’ and Adoracion’s deaths were closer, and rawer, but her naturally optimistic personality succeeded to get over them to an extent, with the spiritual help the Church provided for the berieved.

”The role of those left behind is to preserve the memory of the departed,” she replied, thinking about more than Saint Pierre. ”And this memory shouldn’t hinder us to keep living our lives, live also for those whose fate didn’t allow them to keep living.”

It was what she really believed, so she didn’t dwell anymore on the subject of death. Today was especially a holiday for the living, and the music heard everywhere around made her feel more alive, happier. In addition, the exuberance was a natural manifestation of the relief after the several weeks she had trembled for Madame Lucia’s life and what would happen to her in case her mistress would have died.

As he said that there were also dangers in being far from home, she nodded in understanding. Many people fell sick when freshly arrived from France. She had heard it. Especially those from the Army and the Navy, but not only them. It took getting accustomed to the climate, to the new foods…

”Now it hopefully wouldn’t happen anymore,” she said, boldly touching, for one second, the camphor ball at his neck. ”You are protected against most illnesses.”

She kept wearing hers too, even if Madame Lucia got healed. What if the bad miasma were still around? One more amulet at her neck, in addition to the cross she had received from baptism, was welcome.

His request was a bit difficult to meet – more in respect to drinks than to food.

"Here are lots of samples of Creole food specific to these islands, as well as French ones, but for the drinks, it's trickier. Cider and mead are specific French. I think if you are seeking something local, not to be found in Europe, it's pineapple, guyava or mango juice," she said.

Nicole hadn't taken into consideration that for a man who spent years in Brazil, these were common, not exotic anymore, as they would have been for someone arriving from Europe.

"By the way, I kept a piece of Saint John's bread, blessed in church, to share it with you. Here it is," she showed him the content of one of her pockets, wrapped in some paper.

It was meant as a gesture of friendship, a holiday blessing and an antidote to loneliness. If he saw more in it, though, it was up to him; Nicole hadn't intended it so.

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Credits. This skin was made by MORU specifically for BEFORE THE MAST and rethemed by MASCHA.
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