Waking Up in St. Lucia

Let's just paint the picture of my morning. To give an idea of what it's like.
At 4 a.m., Ms. Drusilla begins to stir. I know this because the thin piece of wood that separates the room I stay in and hers does not quite reach the ceiling, and since I sleep on the top bunk of the bed (below which sleeps 3 of the girls) I am indeed very close to Ms. Drusilla's room. Although there is often a cool breeze in the mornings here, the screen on the window, doubled with the thickness of my mosquito net, leave very little that actually cools my body - which pretty much sweats through the night.
At 5 a.m. the rooster starts it's crowing, which wakes the goats who begin their singing at intervals of 5 seconds, accompanying the rooster until 7 a.m. It's just a constant melody. For two whole glorious hours. Once in a while the cow jumps in with a deep, guttural 'Mooo', which the first few mornings I mistook for the vibrating of my cell phone.
Around 5:30, the bread car begins his honking. Every morning he brings his fresh bread by, honking up and down the street for what feels like hours, but probably never surpasses one. I try desperately to block the noise which, thanks to my Myrtle Avenue side sleeping for the last 3 years, I have grown quite accustomed to.
It's close to this time that Ms. Drusilla is now up and running...and then slowly but surely, 6 little pitter pattering feet begin to join her as the morning rolls by.
By 6:30 the household is now completely awake, except for me. I have been trying, desperately, to hold on to sleep for the last 2 hours, only awoken occasionally by the slamming of a door, the yelling of a child's name, or the kicking of the bed frame from down below.
Finally, at 7:30, it is indeed impossible. For it is at this time that the daily obituaries are being loudly proclaimed on TV, accompanied by Mariah Carey's, One Sweet Day - and sweat has now completely overtaken my body.
I slowly move to a seated position, contemplating how to get down the ladder of the bunk bed without breaking my foot. And immediately I am greeted by 4 pairs of eyes peering through the netting, and a "Mornin' Sleepin' Beauty" which I can only assume means - who invited the lazy ass into the house.
7:30!!!
And thus the day begins.