Back from Culebra

For the past week I was at Culebra helping my grandparents. My grandfather, Belo, had a biopsy or his prostate, and I went with them to help with heavy lifting and to drive them around so as to give Belo some rest.

The island seems to change more and more every time I go there. White people invade the island, refuse to speak Spanish, buy up all the land, set up touristy businesses and bring more americans in that end up do more of the same. Then the entrenched americans start trying to make it so that no more americans can move to the island because they see the damage they have caused.

As tourism increases, the island dies a little. Too many people, too much construction, too many environmental issues caused and not fixed as people get paid to look the other way or they just don't care.

The beach where I used to walk as a child is now filled with empty stupid idiotic plastic bottles. People! Stop drinking water from a disposable plastic bottle! JUST STOP IT! Plastic bottles are now the number one pollution in the us! Idiots who are under the assumption that tap water is bad, tap water is dirty, tap water is not clean! SUBHUMAN! By LAW tap water has to be these things and more! Hell, tap water is cleaner than stupid plastic bottles because it is federally regulated as opposed to bottled water that is not regulated. There have been studies that found fecal matter in bottled water along with heavy doses of mercury and arsenic. Congratulations, bottled water drinker, you are contributing to the destruction of natural beauty and the human race.

Anyway, Belo now has about 7 chickens on the property that eat up all the fruit from the trees. four hens and three roosters. What stings me the most, is that they climb up on the carambola tree, knock down the ripe fruit, and eat it! If there is one fruit that Belo grows in the backyard that I love, it is the carambola.

They also have an acerola bush, but it is not giving fruit at this time. Plus, the mango are not ripe yet. But the carambola gives fruit all year. Bastard chickens.

The first night there, this one rooster was crowing at 2 in the morning, I wanted to run out there with a gun. These chickens do not fear people. I had to chase them off the property with a stick, only then did they run clucking like mad. From the kitchen you can see them walk right up to the tree and start eating the downed fruit. I yell, they don't care. I clap, they do nothing. I open the door, they slowly walk away not minding me that much.

I am happy, though. Their days are numbered. I ordered Belo a cage trap. They will soon be on their way to the chopping block or given away as gifts because my grandmother says that she would not eat one because they eat everything. As far as I can tell, those bastards are fattened up on carambola, so they should be pretty tasty.

I just hope this Chicken Trap works out well. Be shame if they learn to avoid it.


*Sigh* I miss my camera.