It’s no exaggeration to say that the owner of Ay-Ay Ecotours, Ras Lumumba Corriette, has elevated tour guiding from a skill to an art form… and one for which he has a born gift. His flawless mixture of encyclopedic knowledge, showmanship, authenticity, infectious enthusiasm, and out-and-out charisma made the guided walk/hike I took with him hands-down the best tour I’d ever been on, and the undisputed highlight of my trip to St. Croix.
My first thought upon meeting Lumumba was that he wasn’t quite like anyone I’d ever seen before. Rangy, spry, and vaguely Rastafarian, he seemed ageless—but I can tell he looks a lot younger than however old he is, I thought, as we embarked on a long ramble through a gorgeous landscape of forests, hills, fields, and colonial ruins.
Lumumba was constantly stopping us along the way to point out the interesting qualities of various innocuous-looking plants and trees. He showed a commanding knowledge of biology, botany, ecology, and, most fascinating of all, Caribbean bush medicine—which seems to have its own cure for everything short of cancer. This plant made remarkably strong rope; that one cured yeast infections. This grass would single-handedly keep you alive if you got lost in the wild; that tree produced natural air-conditioning that would keep you cool if you sat under its boughs.
"Now this," he said, pulling some anonymous plant out of the ground to expose its white roots, "is congo root. You make an elixir out of it by soaking it in rum. This is a master root. It’s good for all sorts of things, but people call it ‘Mama Juana’ because after a man drinks it, he says, ‘Mama, I wanna.’" Lumumba grinned. "It’s good for back spasms because it thins the blood and improves circulation… but it also helps put some lead in your pencil!"
Lumumba also invited us to sample all sorts of edibles we encountered along the way, ranging from the familiar (mango, passionfruit) to the downright bizarre (an enormous seed filled with a powder that smelled disgusting but tasted delicious). And then there were the many colonial ruins we passed, with Lumumba displaying an equally endless knowledge of local history as he told us about each of them.
And so it went, as we struggled up hill and down dale, kept going only by the gorgeous scenery and Lumumba’s running commentary of intriguing trivia. Ambling effortlessly along ahead of us, he kept us riveted the entire time, showing a love of St. Croix and its native flora and fauna that we couldn’t help but share by the end. An unfamiliar sense of wonder stole over me as I thought of the bounty of nature, and all of a sudden my cushy life back in New York seemed artificial, unreal—even ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m going to pick up stakes and move to St. Croix, but I know I’ll be back—and when I am, you can bet I’ll be calling up Ay-Ay Ecotours for another go.