We could never let Astrid leave without saying ‘goodbye.’ She was a woman who would not tolerate a slight although I have never known her to hold a grudge.
It must have been in the late 70s when she drifted into my orbit. She was young, free (if you overlooked Klaus) and filled with laughter.
In those days, I did a part time job at Sebastian’s and she and Klaus had some relationship with the owner, Mike (Vinomar). All that was known, for sure, was that they were usually the last people to leave the dinner table and they spoke a foreign language. German.
German wine came into the establishment by the crates. Much of it was sweet; Perhaps a rival to Manischewitz red which flowed freely during local celebrations.
Mike always had a following, which was easy with his chic and elegant wife, Ushi, at his side. And, being Europeans, his guests/friends spent considerably longer periods than the Americans at the hotel and at table.
Sometimes an older couple would sit with them. Mr and Mrs Price. They were reputed to have owned a condominium in Pieces of Eight. But here they were, several villages away in Sebastians. (Mike had a certain magnetism and charm.)
And the hotel’s night cook, Mrs Melcina Smith, did not disappoint. Her meals were scrumptious and the nightly specials kept guests engaged for the duration of their stay.
Klaus was the first ‘Santa Clause’ known to the children of the villages surrounding Sebastians and that added to the enjoyment of the Christmas season.
We knew that Astrid was ‘real people’ based on her interactions with the locals. She saw them. She heard them. She knew them by name. She loved them. She and Mrs Smith spoke much and often.
By the time Astrid was living in Nanny Cay she could sometimes be thought of as ‘a piece of work.’ If she was catching a ride, she raised her one hand like a traffic cop, commanded the oncoming vehicle to stop, or encouraged the driver to run her over because she walked out into the street fully prepared to embark.
I was one of many who was party to that bold and dangerous approach to hitchhiking.
And Astrid continued to involve herself in BVI life and with a breadth of BVI people. She displayed neither prejudice nor superiority. Genuine is a word that was often used to describe her.
She was a member of a slew of organizations and she gave each her all. And she was attentive to our history and nuances.
It would be superfluous to say that she held strong opinions although she listened to reason.
We were pleased to note His Excellency’s posthumous commendation of her for her work in the Government House Museum and we fully expect that her Rotary family will also remember her as a stalwart.
As should Lions, The Diabetes Association and the BVI Cancer Society since they are a few of the other organizations in which she held membership.
She loved life and fought for it like a warrior especially in the face of her health challenges. She was a prime example of someone who never gave up regardless of the odds.
When I think of a BVIslander, grafted in, I think of Astrid. Her whole aim was to make a difference; To give. She didn’t crave the immigration status of being a Belonger. She simply lived it. She only asked, ‘what can I do for ‘country.’’
We loved her without knowing it. We admired her without saying it. We argued with her without holding on to it. And we valued her without showing it.
We were surprised on hearing her death announcement that she had close to a half a dozen names following the one we all knew; Astrid. For, to us, she had joined those celebrities like Madonna, fully known by a single name.
It doesn’t surprise us that her last rights will be administered in the Sea Cows Bay Methodist Church, in the village where she spent most of her years; And less so that she will be interred in the Sea Cows Bay Public Cemetery.
For Astrid was not like others who wanted their remains to be returned ‘home’ (their country of origin); For once she decided that BVI was her home she was all in.
We admire that.
She will be laid to rest tomorrow and when we think of what she added to the social, cultural and tourism fabric of the Territory, we will consider that Irish Proverb:
“Death leaves a heartache no one can heal.
Love leaves a memory no one can steal.”
And Astrid was well loved.
Fridays salute her.
Happy Friday!