Day 3, Nassau

Today, we docked in Nassau, Bahamas! Before we docked, my brother caught sight of me as I was grabbing some breakfast. He invited me to join him and his wife, Amy, on deck for the poolside “Sexiest Man” competition.

Well, you know what happens when you get three Wardens (my maiden name) together anywhere near food and fun. Don't you? Yes, indeed. We become a Warden-magnet and all the other Wardens around come to join us. It was not long before my daughter, mother and sister had all joined us for the fun of voting the “sexiest man” on board.

Anne and I went ashore today for the only shore excursion we will take. The tour was called, “Forts and Pirates.” It was an excellent tour that I really enjoyed, but it might not have been the best excursion for us to visit because my right leg is so tight and sore. There was an unexpected amount of walking involved. By the end of the day, I was limping and my ankles were both swollen. On the other hand, I learned a lot about pirates.

Say, did you know that pirates did not really make people walk the plank? And did you know that most pirates died by the ripe old age of 25?
 
At the beginning of our tour, before all the walking, we visited two forts that were built to fend off, yes, pirates. At the first fort, we were hit with a dollar per person entrance fee. Not a big deal except that the tour around the fort consisted of listening to a bunch of blather as we walked to the top of a single wall and looked at the "Queen's Tower." Would I do it again? I guess. Would I pay another dollar to do it again? Doubtful.
  

Second fort's long bridge

The second fort looked much more interesting from the outside (it had a long bridge that made it look medieval), but we did not enter. The fee was $4 per person. Rather, we took some pictures from the outside of the fort and then headed back to the "straw-grass" vendors in the nearby parking area.

I paused to look at Anne as we entered the parking area.

"Which way should we go?" I asked her.

I looked down the left side of the parking lot. Tourists swarmed around displayed souvenirs. I had seen some long scarves tied to look like dresses and hung on hangers at the end of the row of makeshift shops. Down in that direction, I had also seen some conch shells that looked appealing. I was already wondering how much they cost and thinking where I would put one at home.

The right side of the parking lot, however, had a single lonely-looking shop. No tourists were anywhere nearby. When I looked at that lonely shop, the vendor and her children started calling out to us, urging us to come peruse their wares. I hesitated. I really wanted to go look at the scarves and shells, but I felt really bad for the people in that lonely shop.

Determining that I would buy nothing, I reluctantly conceded to my bleeding heart and turned to my right. The vendor's children cheered.

Enter a larger woman who brought back memories of my favorite neighbors in Texas, Maricela. Actually, she did not enter. She was sitting there the whole time, eating a bowl of a soup-like substance I can only assume was her lunch. Seeing me, she slurped up one last spoonful, wiped the corners of her mouth with her fingers, and asked, "What you looking for? Tell me. What you need?...C'mon. Who you have back home to buy for? You have sweetheart? Nephew?" (Not her exact words, I am sure, but pretty doggone close.)

A little surprised by her exuberance, I stammered out what I felt would be a harmless response, "My son."

My answer elicited another series of questions which I answered with as little information as possible as I tried to move away to browse. She continued, finally suggesting a t-shirt for him.

"How much are they?" I asked with the hope I could refuse the purchase on the basis of price. No such luck.

"They are six dollars but I give to you for four." Again, I was reminded of Maricela. She used to give things away at her garage sales because she saw the people wanted an item but could not afford to buy it. In fact, she would sometimes give away things that were not even marked for sale. "Just take it," I remember her saying, "the Lord provides for me, everything I need." ....And He always did.

How could I refuse a $4 souvenire t-shirt for my son? I couldn't. As I was choosing the t-shirt, a hand-woven purse caught my eye. The reason it caught my eye is that it vaguely resembled a leather purse my daughter had purchased in Spain, but got stolen near home.

The large woman heard me pause to look at the purse. She called over, "What you see that you like?" When I did not answer, she called to the young boy who had come to help us search for the perfect t-shirt, "What they like?" Then, "Take it down so she can look at it."

I had absolutely no intention of buying this purse if it was more than about four or five dollars. Anne already had a purse and I would happily have spent my money elsewhere. The boy took the purse to "Big Momma."

When I heard that Big Momma wanted $18 for the very small satchel, I decided Anne did not need it. (She, actually, was very verbal about saying she was not really interested in the bag.) But Big Momma would not take no for an answer.

"$16 for you, then." Then $14, then $12 for both the shirt and satchel. I thought she was finished haggling when I pulled out my $20 bill to pay for my son's t-shirt. After all, she had said, "alright." But as soon as my money was in her hand, the large woman said, "Okay, I will make the girl happy. $10 for both," and she handed me back my change of $10.

I did not even bother to ask for the rest of my money. Obviously, the woman needed it more than I did. I just nodded, thanked her and moved on down to the shops with the scarves and conch shells I really wanted to see.

So is the story of how Anne got a small, woven purse in the Bahamas -- that she did not really even want.