The last time I was in the TCI I wrote an article describing how the islands where being held back by an overwhelming feeling of entitlement. Today I looked across from the other side of the table. I've been to some of the restaurants, bars, and private homes here on Provo, but today is the first time I'm sampling resort life.
Remember in Knocked Up when they are going on about the extravagance of the Las Vagas hotel room? "There are seven types of chairs in this room!" This place only 5 different types, but the view makes up for the missing 2 chairs.
And there are fountains all over the place. And two pools just ten steps from the beach. On an island that, just like Grand Turk, catches rain water and is constantly in shortage, there are no signs anywhere indicating that water use should be limited. OK, so the fountains are probably salt water pulled up from the beach (well, then again, in the TCI - maybe not). Either way, it's certainly a show of wealth on these dry little islands.
It put in mind of the palaces of Morocco. It's an old tradition there for wealthy homes to have huge fountains. In the desert, where evaporation is a constant process, showing off useless pools of water was equivalent to the British habit of having extra, useless windows during the Window Tax days of the 1700's. Today, the shmancy Moroccan resorts still continue the tradition.The difference between modern Morocco and the TCI is that the water shortages are uniform across economic classes. Or across more economic classes, anyway. A friend and I stayed in a very cozy and lush bed and breakfast in Essouria on the coast. The host and hostess warned us that water was rationed in the town and a late morning shower would end in soapy tears. We confirmed this the hard way.
In the TCI, it's completely different. The "less elegant" places post signage that water is scarce, but essentially, if you are visitor here, you don't have to deal with the local worries. Here in Provo, it seems to not effect people at all. Nothing interferes with the play of the rich.
Without thinking, I crossed the line: I stocked my bag with complimentary cotton balls, extra shampoo bottles, q-tips. I took an extra long shower. They can afford it here on Provo. Anything I use can be replaced by someone with pockets much deeper than mine. On Grand Turk, we don't have benefactors. What's the harm in Provo sharing the wealth with us poor non-profit folk? After all, we have to go back to a little desert island far from all of this. Aren't we entitled?It wasn't until later that I realized how easily I fell into the Turks Islander thought process. It's not like we want for the necessities on Grand Turk, but our choices are scarce, if at all present. Today, surrounded by all the plenty of Provo, I went on a small shopping spree: a new fancy toothbrush with the bristles just the way I like, and my special face soap I didn't think I would be able to get here. And now I've laced my pockets with quality shampoo. I'm practically rich.
Tomorrow I'll go back to Grand Turk. It really is a different world there. Provo is a beautiful place with the second best beaches in the world. Popular ways to pass the time include kayaking and para-sailing followed by an evening trip to the movie theater or the book store. All that is well and good, but I find that Grace Bay holds no interest for me today.
I can't wait to go back to Grand Turk with our quiet little beaches. First thing I'm going to do? Take a walk on the beach with the dog and enjoy the solitude and the sound of the waves.
...but I am enjoying the fancy wine glasses. This is the kind of luxury I never get tired of: a lounge chair and a cold beverage.
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