Minnesota & St. Thomas: Comparative Observations in Home and Place, Part 1

At a lovely (and sweaty) ceremony in her grandparents’ Lutheran country church, my dear friend Alissa married her beloved Michael on Memorial Day weekend. The occasion brought a perfect reason to visit my homeland after nine months of living in the Caribbean. Especially because Lissa let me be a bridesmaid.

Was she not a stunning bride?

As the trip drew near, I became increasingly convinced that it was necessary for some self-revelatory purpose. I expected all the ways in which I’d grown to become clear, revealing luminous new insights into my journey.

Much of this had to do with seeing my ex again. We have the same friends, so I knew we would encounter one another plenty. He even DD’d the bachelorette party! The closer it came to the trip, the more urgently I needed to release the overwhelming emotion that had amassed during the past year. It churned inside me, like a pregnant thundercloud, to the point that sixty seconds of thinking about our former relationship induced thirty minutes of weeping. Like an overdue mother, I desperately wanted to squat in the corner and get the thing out of me. It needed to end.

Of course, on a less introspective level, I merrily awaited the wedding festivities and some much needed quality time with loved ones, Mom included. And the shopping. It was imperative that I shop. Even though I am relatively poor, I needed some new clothes, and St. Thomas is about the least economical place to acquire them. Which brings me to the first comparison at hand: the consumer experience.

After living in St. Thomas, mainland shopping is simply sublime. The marketplace—clean, bright, open, and laden with choice—easily seduces my inner capitalist consumer…which probably bears direct relation to my hunting and gathering ancestors. Products in appealing packages call out like inanimate sirens enticing me to place them in my bulky red cart by promising to improve my life for only $8.99. Stateside shopping has everything that St. Thomas shopping does not: affordability, order, consistency, and variety. And that’s why we love American capitalism, right? For the big box marketplace saturated with options, but bereft of all surprise and local character. I am guilty as charged.

Okay, so it’s not really too surprising that the mainland offers better shopping than an island. But the difference in price is jarring, even though it’s understandable. Nothing is manufactured in St. Thomas, so all goods are shipped from elsewhere, thereby involving additional transit costs. Also—and this is one of my favorite things about St. Thomas—we have the most expensive utilities in the United States. By 300%.

No, I didn’t accidentally add a zero.

Therefore, all businesses have higher operating costs than they would stateside, especially if they rely on coolers and freezers to preserve product. These two factors—and maybe others of which I’m ignorant—add roughly 30% to all island goods. So, while most people make around 30% less than they would in the states, they spend about 30% more to live. And more people keep coming! Even if large numbers of them don’t last long.

The Neutrogena face wipes that I use are over nine dollars in St. Thomas at Kmart. At Target in Minnetonka, they cost five and change. There are deals in the states where you can buy four frozen pizzas for $10, what you might spend for one at Plaza Extra. I met a friend for lunch my first day back in the cities at a restaurant I lived five minutes from for two years but never patronized because I figured it was too expensive (even though I made more money at the time). It was so interesting to see that the lunch menu prices were comparable to one of the least expensive family restaurants on the island. Although the beer cost more.

I’ve always said, and I’ll repeat myself plenty with this one, the only goods cheaper in St. Thomas than stateside are your vices: alcohol, cigarettes, and drugs.