From the author: Even if you are a woman, you can lend a helping hand to a stranger, drive a boat and lead a group of tourists. Early in the morning of January 18, while boarding the Aircaraibes airliner, I was already thinking about upcoming new acquaintances and discoveries, about the warm Caribbean Sea and whether I would be able to find time to continue writing, whether I would have time to capture and save new experiences on paper. However, we must pay tribute to human memory. As soon as you sit down at your desk and begin to pull the thread of the past, the ball of memories unwinds, even bouncing at times. And now, having pulled on bright yellow socks and covered myself with a blanket, I was looking at the screen of the on-board tablet, but my internal computer quickly rewinded time to March 2016 of the year. Three years ago, during my first trip to Guadeloupe, I met the captain of a passenger boat, Julia. I had the whole day to observe her movements, her manner of communicating with men and her ability to manage. There was time to draw some conclusions about the combination of femininity and masculinity. At the beginning of the excursion through the mangrove forests and islets in the open sea, we received clear instructions from Julia. Immediately there was a feeling of security and immense trust in this young woman. Her voice sounded confident and gave the impression that she knew her business very well. She deftly moored to the refueling pier and, while the tank was filling with fuel, communicated as equals in a humorous manner with the men working there. She’s like a friend-sister to everyone. Soon the small port was left behind, and Julia sharply increased her speed. When meeting a wave, the boat lifted off the water for a fraction of a second, and we squealed from the sensation of flying. I was the youngest among the twelve passengers, but Julia addressed us exclusively: “Young people! Tu va bien? Everything is excellent! - we answered and, like children, rejoiced at the splashes of water and the headwind. Already on the open sea we met the same small boat, but it was clearly not sailing anywhere. Julia turned off the engine and, putting her hands like a “horn” to her mouth, shouted loudly: “Do you need help?” The answer came: “Mercy side. Everything is fine!" I thought that this is exactly how French values ​​are manifested in the behavior of citizens: freedom, equality, fraternity. And even if you are a woman, you can lend a helping hand to a stranger. Apparently, solidarity is especially clearly manifested on the water, and certain rules work. Until the moment of the first landing on the island, I observed a strong masculine principle in Julia: the ability to cooperate, protect, the ability to organize and regulate the behavior of a group of people. Even the way she unloaded lunch containers for our group showed her inner strength. Without any requests from her, the men rushed to help her. She surrendered and blossomed, stepped ashore in a different capacity, in the role of a woman-housewife and nurse. While we enjoyed a cool aperitif, light appetizers and chatting with her, she quickly set the table and started grilling our fish. I admired her transformation and philosophical outlook on life. In a conversation with her, my husband expressed his opinion that San Francois and its surroundings are the most beautiful place in the overseas territory of France. What does most beautiful mean? – the hostess asked in surprise, “Do you know how many equally beautiful places there are on the Caribbean Islands?” I probably remembered this question for the rest of my life, namely its key word “most.” It seems to me that we limit ourselves when we say “the best.” So we give exclusivity to one thing and cut off everything else, depriving ourselves of the opportunity to get acquainted with something or someone no less remarkable. Comparative degrees speak of competition, of some kind of superiority over others. Previously, I didn’t understand why I was so repulsed by the titles of “the most titled coach” or some other “most”. Now, thanks to Julia, I have abandoned this word and expanded my horizons. And recently I read a statement from one of my