I Love My Neighborhood: Schoelcher’s Terreville (Martinique)

Welcome to another edition of “I Love My Neighborhood”, where I ask expats from across the globe to share the joys of local life they’ve found in their corner of the world.

If you’re just joining in now, feel free to check out the other cities that have been covered so far here.

Today’s guest post comes from Joelle, a Canadian who currently lives on the island of Martinique, a French DOM-TOM (Overseas Departments and Territories) in the eastern Caribbean Sea. Between blogging about the beaches, fruit beer and rum, and two-week Easter holidays, she makes Martinique sound pretty close to paradise….

Joelle: Why I Love Terreville

Where the heck is that? was my first thought when I found out that I would be moving here. I truly am living the expression, “It’s a small world” on this tiny island of Martinique: a département of France. As a Canadian, one of my toughest challenges was getting used to how small everything is here. You could almost call Martinique itself one neighbourhood. But for the sake of argument and to go even smaller, I technically live in the city of Schoelcher (pronounced like the shoul in shoulder and share) which is just north of the capital of Fort-de-France. I suggest you bring up google maps right about now. Almost everything in Martinique is built around the perimeter where the land is relatively flat. From there, you start to climb up into the hills and into the jungle where the island is less populated. My neighbourhood is up in the hills in the northern-most part of Schoelcher. Terreville, translated, literally means City of Earth.

My Unconventional Neighbours  

Before I came to Martinique, I was a city girl through and through. Living in Terreville has taught me to appreciate more rural areas, and the quirks that come with them. On my walk to the local grocery store some mornings, an apparently stray bull will scare the bejesus out of me as it steps out of the thick bush to stand uncomfortably close to me as I try and walk by as calmly as possible. When I wait for the bus, my only company is usually the neighbour’s goats that try and get my attention by calling loudly to me. My neighbourhood noises are usually not the constant sound of cars going by, music playing loudly in the streets, or people rushing by. Instead, it’s my noisy and unconventional neighbours.

Riding the Local Bus
Martinique has a very bad reputation for public transportation. Before I moved here, I was warned that buses run sporadically if they run at all, and a car would be something I couldn’t survive without. As it turns out, I actually love riding my neighbourhood bus. No, it’s never on time, but if I show up at my stop with a laid-back Caribbean attitude and a generous helping of patience, one will eventually come. To make up for that, the bus drivers are always friendly: throwing you a smile and a bonjour when you step on. The passengers always greet everyone on the bus with a madames, monsieurs, bonjour and the drivers will always stop to let you on even if you’re not at a designated stop. It’s also one more small peephole into Martinican culture — how people interact with one another like how the bus drivers will hold up traffic to wave and chat to their friends on the streets, and how they seem to play tag with other buses by melodically honking their horns. I could be in the worst mood, but this always puts a smile on my face — they seem like the happiest people on earth.

My Walk Home 

One of the great things about living in Martinique is seeing the ocean every day. Almost no matter where you are on the island, you can see the sea stretching far out into the horizon. It’s a humbling view: again reminding me just how small we really are. When my bus drops me off a couple blocks from my little studio apartment after a long, hot, and humid workday in the capital, I am so grateful for where I live. The view all the way home overlooks the water: to my left you can see the bay of Fort-de-France and Trois Ilets on the other side. You can see the sun starting to set and feel the air starting to finally cool. Throw in the exotic flowers overflowing onto the sidewalk from everyone’s yards, and you start to really appreciate Madinina — l’île aux fleurs (the island of flowers).

My Local Beach

Remember how I said you could see the ocean from my neighbourhood? Well, you can’t just see it — you can almost reach out and touch it. And I do, at least once a week. Ten minutes, and I’m lying out on the dock at the local beach. I’m living in paradise, and I take full advantage of it. So on an island made of beaches, what makes my neighbourhood beach “the one”? It has a bar that serves cold beer, and after a day of fighting French bureaucracy, a beach without a bar just would not do.

Frog Lullabies
When I first got here, I never thought I would sleep again. As soon as the sun sets, the jungle orchestra that has been practicing all day starts their nightly concert at full blast, led by frogs. I kid you not — and it’s loud. I honestly thought I would have to move after a week of sleepless nights, but I stuck around and those vocally-talented creatures won me over. Now I feel like I’ll have to tape-record the full-on jungle party to fall asleep to when I move again. Some of my friends who live further into the city centers don’t get tickets to the show, but now that I’m used to it, I don’t think I could live (sleep) without my front row seat every night. I guess I have more neighbours than I originally thought.

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About Joelle: Joelle is a 20-something, Canadian, sort-of University student who can’t sit still long enough to finish her degree. This time she’s taken the year off her studies in French and linguistics to work as an English Assistant in a middle and high school in Martinique. She’s also lived in England and France, and she blogs because it keeps her sane. Or so she likes to think. Check out her other Martinique-related ramblings or drop her a line at Joelle in Paradise.

All photos courtesy of the author.