4 hrs, 10 kms

As I continue down the road, a tall old fellow leading a cow asks for a song, so I agree .

"I used to live in the United States too. But the government didn't want me any more" He tells me sadly.

"How many cows do you have now?" I ask

"Just this one"

Later I learn who so many St Lucians have lived or live in the USA. Years ago, the US government granted a lot of tempory farm work visas to St Lucians. The unlucky ones, like this fellow, ended up back in their own country at the end, with little to show for all their work.

Finally I reach the tiny town of Choiseul, another fishing town with, of course, a big Catholic church in the middle. Here, the walls are also covered with murals--with simple scenes from around the island... the cheerful colors contrasting with the relief-bas sculptures of Jesus being tortured. It seems the happy scenes of island life are much better suited for the culture here...

I go outside and a middle age fellow in a t-shirt and shorts hurries over to me. "Where are you from?" is how every conversation starts.

"Pennsylvania"

"Oh! a guy from Pennsylvania just donated 500 dollars to this church! would you like to donate something? I'm the priest of the church... you can give it to me"

"Why aren't you dressed like a priest?" I ask suspiciously

"Oh, I'm not the seminary graduate priest--I'm more of a layman priest..."

I will have to give this guy an A for originality in his spontaneous little scam...