I was recently reading a book when suddenly, hidden in the middle of a chapter, I recognized… Myself.

This would be me, I realized, if I remained in Kiribati any longer, a dissolute man untethered from his own land, a foreigner who has adapted to the queer realities of island life, but a foreigner always, disconnected from the world beyond the reef, and possibly from his own mind.

That’s a quote from “The Sex Lives of Cannibals” by J. Marteen Troost, an excellent story about life on an island, set in the Pacific but so completely pertinent here on Little Cayman. It’s a modern version of the classic “Don’t Stop the Carnival” and I strongly recommend it to anybody still nursing illusions about the island myth…