Church service at Wembley Stadium...

Click on picture for big picture...
(front row: the man next to the lady in blue ( in the centre) is the leader of the opposition. left of him is the premier and his wife, and then another high ranking politician. you can see my head between the premier and his wife.)

Today I attended a church service in what is the Wembley Stadium of Bermuda. Since Bermuda is a lot smaller than the UK, so the National Stadium here is a lot smaller than Wembley.
But it was quite an occasion. In fact I sat two rows behind the Premier, the leader of the opposition, and the leadership challenger: if this had been England, I'd be sitting in the 3rd row at Wembley Stadium, behind Tony Blair, David Camron, and Gordon Brown, and their wives.
Everything is a bit smaller, and more communal here, including visibility of the politicians.

The service brought many different churches together over three issues: gangs and violence, an amendmet of the Human Rights Act in Bermuda which seeks to address discrimination of homosexuals (at the moment homosexuals are not allowed to show their affection in public), and the role of the church in society.
The second issue was the most delicate one. While one should not discriminate another person because of their sexual orientation--e.g. when seeking employment, or tenancy--most Bermudian Christians are concerned about legitimising public expressions of homosexuality. And so they came together to show their oppinion. And it was quite an occasion.
(Just as a pastor: the Bible legitimises only one form of human sexuality: a marriage covenant between a man and a woman.)

I loved the liturgical dancers. So graceful, modest, and yet powerful in their ministry. Unfortunately, I had to leave even before the first of three preachers spoke (one per issue). So I don't know what was actually said about each of the issues.
The passionate spirituality of some (not all) of the worshippers was also something that I was impressed by. Mental notes to take back to one's own church...

(again, I hope to be able to put some pictures up fairly soon)

Florence's legacy

The Bermudian phone book is quite a resource of information, not just phone numbers but all sorts of other stuff. Like satellite pictures of Bermuda--very cool.
And in one section it talks about water management.

Bermuda has very little natural sweet water. Most of our water supply is stored rain water.
Now, when a hurricane passes by with its low pressure, the oxygen level in the stored water drops and the water begins to smell rotten. And that's what happened to our front water tank (our house has two tanks).

So, enter the phone book:
In case of the water smelling like rotten eggs, aereate it.
Connect a hose pipe to the water pump under the house, run it up to the roof and let the water flow back into the tank. Well, I didn't do the roof, but just opened the cover of the water tank and let the water splash back in.

There are things in life you never know, do, or experience, until you venture outside your usual box.

My new license

Hurray.... I've passed my driving test.
Well, eh... sort of.

When I took my "written" test, some time ago (actually it wasn't written, it was on a computer screen, answering 20 odd questions), I received a paper with the dates for my practical tests, one for the bike and one for the car. The bike test was October, that's all I remembered. Until this morning. I thought I'd better check the little note with the dates, and instead of saying some time later in October, it said Oct 9--today! And it said: 9.30am!!
Now, in Bermuda you have to bring your own car/bike to the test. I don't have a bike...
But the rent-a-bike shop down the road does. So at 8.30am I rented a little scooter, 50cc and automatic. And off to the Test Ground I went (did I mention that I havent't ridden a bike since I passed my original test. In 1984)
It was all a bit nerve-racking. You had to, well first hand in the papers and wait. And wait. And be called up and outside.
Get on the bike, ride in a cirlce without putting feet on the ground or touching the cones. Ride in the circle again, this time counterclockwise. The zig-zag, no touching of lines or cones, and riding in a smaller circle. Then zig-zag back, and go straight through an alley of cones, without touching them--holy cones!
And after all that I was told I passed--yippey.

And then I got the paperwork back: passed to ride bikes class 2A with restriction 7 (translation: nothing bigger than 50cc, and only automatic)... after all that blood sweat and tears, well no blood really and no tears, but it's still warm enough for sweat... one out of three.
After all that I got a license to ride a little moped. Great...

But I had the scooter-moped thingy for a whole day, so off I went, exploring Bermuda, and taking part in the ritual car-bike dance on the windy roads of this island. But with only 50cc it wasn't much of a dance. Plus, remember the speed limit is 35km/h (yes, that's 22mph!!). I'm sure i didn't go over it, as I rigerously stuck to the car in front of me, and surely no Bermudian breaks the speed limit. ... ........... right.

So it was another one of those milestone days. Now I have a Bermudian driving license (with restrictions...).
Unfortunatley, I could only afford a 24hr rental. So the bike goes back to its fold tomorrow morning--just in time for the cruise ship tourists (who actually DO stick to the limit, quite annoying). And I'm back on the bus. I got an October pass.

Expired

Yesterday my bus pass expired.
Might as well, as I forgot to take it out my shirt pocket and it went through the washer and dryer. You can still read the important bits on the front and back plastic foils but the cardboard inbetween that gave the pass its "card" feel didn't fare well in the wash.

Public transport is quite good in Bermuda. On an island of barely 20 sq miles with a population of 68,000 (not counting cruise ship tourists) and having a total of 3-- that is THREE-- major roads across the island, one would think even a child could put together a good public transport system. Well, when the system fails, one recognises the somewhat more-than-childplay effort that goes into it.

There are only busses on the island, no tubes or trains. And those busses are small--no not like Jamaican taxis, but smaller than a London bus. But they are air conditioned (which works--often too well, depending on how cold the driver sets it). They have to be small, because the roads are not very wide. And the busses just about fit on them. The drivers seem to have a built in sixth sense about the dimensions of the bus. If you sit on the nearside, you can often see house corners and rocks pass precariously close to the window, while overhanging trees may shed some leaves as the bus brushes by (if the windows are open those leaves end up in the bus, near the back seats).
These busses run on time. OK, maybe there's a minute or two delay, but nothing like a London bus, and no they don't show up all at once here.

After a while you get to know the faces of the drivers and they may even recognise you as well. It's fun to greet and chat with them. Makes you feel more of a resident, an islander.

So we rely on public transport. The kids catch the bus directly outside our house (there are only 2 busses per day: 7.22 and 8.05). Barbara and I usually have to walk 10 mins down the road to the regular bus stop.

So why don't you get a car, or a scooter? Well, firstly I don't have a license. I mean, I do, but not a Bermudian license, and nothing else is recognised here. I am on my way to getting one. I passed the written test, and now I have a learner's permit, and I am allowed to drive a car with L-plates (oh the shame)--which makes me feel over 20 years younger.
Then there is the more tricky issue of finance. Cars (SMALL cars) are very expensive over here, not just to buy, but to license, insure, and fill up with petrol.
Maybe I'll end up on a scooter... Till then, it's time to get my October bus pass.