I have always maintained a moderate belief in karma. I mean, I wasn’t superstitious about it or anything, but it was comforting to think that your good deeds would eventually pay off and that the Universe would deliver swift justice to the people and things that have done you wrong. Though recent events have caused me to start to lose my faith in the positive karma department. Driving on these islands has never been a pleasure cruise for me and lately, the Universe seems to be punishing me, making my drive time all the more unpleasant every chance it gets. Tell me, Karma – how have I offended you to deserve a week like this? How can you not believe that you are the victim of the unjust wrath of island karma when things like these hit you in rapid succession:

Who is voodoo-ing me?!

Who is voodoo-ing me?!

How is it possible that when you describe the island’s one rogue white horse and his elusive tendencies to a swath of tourists that you inevitably find it in the middle of the road not once, not twice, but every day for two weeks straight?

How is it possible that after going on a rant about how driving here makes no sense, and how it’s a miracle more people aren’t injured, and how honking at everything is a useless skill, and how that damn intersection just before the roundabout is a roulette wheel of danger that you get side-swiped on the way to work?

How is it possible to celebrate the agility and prowess of your brand new vehicle one minute, only to find yourself with locked-up brakes, screeching down a blind corner, not even 4 hours later?

How is it possible to to read a fellow blogger’s post about creepy crawlies, count your blessings that there don’t seem to be much on your rock, only to have a tarantula drop from your vehicle’s roof square onto your lap while navigating up a steep hill?

Why, you ask? I’m left with no other conclusion other than karma is a fickle b*tch!

I now find myself walking on eggshells, afraid to speak and stir the winds of karma. I wouldn’t dare exclaim that I haven’t had a flat tire in weeks (knock on wood), and I certainly wouldn’t want to comment on my creepy-crawly-free interior as of late, but most importantly, you won’t hear me saying that driving here is all rainbows and sunshine because with island driving karma after me like it is right now, I’d inevitably end up with a unicorn blocking my driveway while a circus of goats kicked at my door panels and leprechauns ripped out my brakes!

So here’s to knocking on wood, rubbing a rabbit’s foot, jumping over every crack, never talking about car troubles again and overdoing it with good deeds! Karma – I think we can both agree that you owe me!

Stay out of my path, kitty.

Stay out of my path, kitty.

Written By:

Current Rock of Residence:

Tortola, BVI

Island Girl Since:


Originally Hails From:

Western Canada

Melissa lives on Tortola in the BVI where she finds there is never a shortage of oddities and quirks that often make her question her thought process, or lack thereof, which got her here in the first place. While adapting to the ways of the island, she finds herself smiling and nodding regularly while having no idea what someone has just told her, drinking far more fermented beverages that one probably should, and in constant struggle to avoid the island’s one rogue white horse. Her life on a rock may not be what she had first imagined, but it comes with no shortage of amusement, delight, and the occasional good lesson.

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