Continued from this post.

We stopped at home for a nap (For me and for Cj. Sam and Mark were busy doing guy stuff.), then headed out for the 4th of July "bash". This was hosted by the owner of a local hotel, himself an American ... sort of ... and we went with the idea of hot dogs and burgers, some ice cold beer, and possibly ice cream or something 4th of July-ish. I'd expected to see a game of softball, maybe, or horseshoes (although I must admit I've never seen horseshoes in Seychelles, not even on horses).

Nope.

Lunch was leftovers from the Saturday night buffet, dessert was coconut balls and flan, and the only games played had to do with attempts to impress folks only seen every couple of years. (I had one woman, a recently transplant from the States, tell me her two-year old son is "bilangual". She, apparently, doesn't speak even the one.)

Not a lot of camaraderie in the group, and most of us were unfamiliar to most of the rest of us.

For a period of time, I was the "Warden" for Americans in Seychelles. It never was spelled out just what a warden's duties or responsibilities are, which is why I eventually quit out of complete frustration. (Did I want to be in charge of rallying Americans during a tsunami with no method in place for said rallying? No.)

You see, the American Embassy that 'serves' Seychelles is in Mauritius, another island nation about a four hours south of us by 737, and the staff there tends to forget we are here. Every couple of years we get a new consular officer who bops up here for a couple of days, all full of enthusiasm for the job and promises of involvement, ease of service, and so on. Next time we see this person is at the end of their time in the Indian Ocean as they pass through once again to say good-bye.

I've been nagging our embassy for years to make an effort to give the American community in Seychelles a reason to stay in touch, but with their base in Mauritius there's little interest, or budget, for us up here on these islands. Half the time, there' s no ambassador, either, as appointments tend to take years while whatever job they do gets done by State Department employees at lower levels, folks that aren't allowed to spend money or make decisions about parties.

Down in Mauritius, there's one big hoop-la of a party every year for the 4th, but we're not invited. Of course, if we were we wouldn't be making a four-hour flight just for a cold Bud and a dollop of French's mustard ... would we? (We can get pretty tired of Seybrew and dijon.)

So, this year one of our own decided to take it upon himself to gather our huddled masses for the 4th of July. It was a nice idea.

At least Sam had fun riding the dinosaur, and isn't that what it's all about?

No ... I guess not.