Beat..Soundcheck..Snap..Script..Publish: San Fernando

Welcome to San Fernando, Trinidad and Tobago, a city in the southern part of the island of Trinidad. Every morning of the school/work week, I drop my children off to school. I have discovered that the traffic is heaviest along Broadway, so I have opted for an alternate route that takes me along the waterfront. This morning I decided to stop down by the wharf, however, not knowing how long I would take, I dropped my children off first and then back tracked to the wharf. My mother wanted to take the express bus into Port of Spain so she was in the car with me and the bus terminal is in the vicinity of my wharf destination.

As I drove into the area and parked, a gentleman approached me asking if I was going to take the boat. I told him “No, I am going to walk along the shoreline and take pictures”. He gave me two thumbs up and walked away. I believe his question was initially to deter me from parking there and taking off for the day. I was happy that I was allowed to park.

It seems that in previous times they had a boardwalk here, but now the concrete walkway or sidewalk is cracked up and it has faced the brunt of the elements. I stood there and captured many seagulls, pelicans and egrets, some snacking on fish that they had either caught or the fishermen threw out. Then I viewed the shoreline and captured the fishermen, mounting their boats. I looked further out to sea and caught the coast at Pointe-a-Pierre and beyond. I then looked up into the sky and saw remnants of the moon not yet gone. I heard the purr of an engine and looked up in time to catch the water taxi coming in from Port of Spain.

There were two corbeaux butchering some fish on the shore. They had one fish each. They were attacking their meals ferociously. Then the one with the bigger of the two fish, leaves it there and walks over to the other with the smaller fish to help eat it. As if to say, “give me some of that nah”. There are life lessons all around even in nature that lend to the characteristics of all earth’s animals, humans included. Here we see the one with more, wanting even what the other has, even if the other’s share is lesser. The root of greed and corruption in our own race.

As I walked back towards my car, I saw movement in the corner of my eye, as I began my stooping descent into my car, I looked up at a smiling man, mouthing to me “picture”. I took off my 55-250mm lens, mounted my 50mm and walked towards him. He was standing by a van that was serving food out the back. I thought it was a doubles vendor. I said to him “What are you selling”? He smiled and said, “I am not selling, I am buying coffee”. To which I responded “OH, so is he selling doubles?”, gesticulating with my head towards the van. Another man turned around promptly, apparently he was the proprietor of this business that I was asking of and he said “I have breakfast, all kinds, dasheen bush baghie, bodie with tomatoes, saltfish, fried fish, stew chicken, green salad, fried bake, coconut bake, milo, tea, coffee”, and his list went on and on. He noticed the camera and said, “You should’ve taken the food I just prepared”. I said “I didn’t want to impose with my camera without asking, I only came over because this gentleman signaled me for a picture”, as I hinted towards the smiling gentleman with a tilt of my head. He asked “What are you having?” But wait, didn’t this man just hear that I only came across to snap the other man, now he wants to feed me. I chuckled; he just bullied me into purchasing, he is a good sales man. “I’ll have a bodi and baghie”, “With coconut bake or fried bake?” he asked. I said “Neither, just like that in a container”. He smiled and added “I’ll put some green salad with it for you then”. He then offered me tea, and pulled out a grated concoction which he said was his own make up of orange peel, he described it as the new millennium way of making orange peel. He put his mixture into a cup and gave it to me as I told him that I would prefer to have it at home.

As I traveled home I captured a young man hustling on the sidewalk off to school, work or play. Determination marked his brow as he walked busily along, oblivious to me and my camera.

At home, I wolfed down the tasty breakfast, barely surfacing for air. I had not realized that I was that hungry. Well greedy might be a better way of describing my behavior. I must add that the orange peel mix was indeed delightful, hints of cinnamon and nutmeg was in the mix as well as small traces of clove. I separated his mix into two, so I will have another cup later on today. He also informed me that when my stomach felt upset or ulcerated the best thing to restore 'ph' balance is grated cabbage or carrot drawn in hot water and drunk as a cooling. I absolutely love hearing of natural remedies. I can recall many old remedies as well and will keep this knowledge in my growing arsenal.

Here are some of my mornings captured images.

Email contact: upborel@gmail.com

© 2013, Odette M. Lawrence and NorDean Canvas. All rights reserved. The use and/or duplication of this material without the express and written permission of this blog’s author and/or owner are unauthorized and strictly prohibited.

Today I woke up refreshed and renewed, because it’s a new day and I am to be glad and rejoice in it. Being back in Trinidad is different, and takes some getting used to. I am not getting out of bed any earlier than I did in the states, but rather, I rise later, preparing the kids for school every morning, making their lunches and dropping them off. This is all an adventure in its own rite.

Today I need to go to the bank. The branch at the mall opens its doors at ten (10) in the morning. I like going to this bank because parking is readily available and the tellers are friendly. They’re beginning to know me here. I’ve been helped by the same person more than once. I get the smile upon facial recognition now as I enter, and our banter is carefree and easy. The bank proves to be frigid at times though, they’ve decided to keep the air-condition at an all time low. Temperatures in there have to be below seventy degrees Fahrenheit. I cannot survive without a sweater, as I never go to the walk up teller, but instead go through the old DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) procedure, of pulling a number and taking a seat to wait my turn. I often think of the commercials for condiments that show a woman’s purse being inhabited by all sorts of things. When I am sitting in the bank, I can readily reach into my pocket book and pull out a sweater, which always seems to amaze anyone sitting next to me. It seems as though when coming to the bank, your business at hand can never be completed in less than thirty minutes, and at times you are there for hours. I jokingly posted on facebook about the bank’s atmosphere and received many responses in jest.

After the bank I went to visit a couple, and it is here that my day really began.

I wanted to drop off some reading material, and I was greeted by the husband to whom I will refer to as Uncle B. As Uncle B, steered me to where he wanted to sit, Aunt B (his wife) came out and offered me lunch. Who was I to refuse, a nice plate of pelau (a rice dish, cooked in coconut milk and local seasonings, along with pigeon peas, carrots and meat)? No sir-ree, I will be partaking in this food, after all, it was around lunch time and my gastric juices were bubbling. Uncle B expressed to me that he loved to talk, that he views himself as the life of the party, and that when he starts talking no one else gets a chance edge wise. Well, I believe Uncle B, loves chatting, and even though in his mind he may dominate a conversation, I see that he is allowed to dominate because his take, opinion, view is interesting in its own rite. Uncle B, sat me down on the front porch. Donning his spectacles he began reading the material that I brought, which allowed me the pleasure of partaking in the plate of food that I was presented with.

In Uncle B, I noticed a uniqueness in personality that is not found in many. Rather, most folks are like me, where if interrupted in mid sentence, struggle to gather their thoughts back to where they left off. No Uncle B, can precisely pick up just where he left off when interrupted. Watching him as he spoke, (well remember his was the quest of subject domination, therefore you have to be apt at listening and observing to be in his presence) you can see his mind churning, he thinks about his conversation while he is speaking with you therefore, his speech is slow, not retardingly slow, but at a slower musical beat, like an adagio, melodic and calm, yet with undercurrents as though in his mind there was an allegretto. This mix of mindful play manifested in his forehead, his eyebrows allowed his forehead to crease and his eyes danced, whilst his lips calmly projected a melody of words not in song but in prose. Therefore you knew that he already knew what his next sentence was going to be, before he completed the first, leaving no room for interruption.

Uncle B is proud of his offspring, often speaking of his eldest, with adoration and admiration in his eyes. The eyes, the key to the soul, lit up as he showcased Aunt B’s artwork and spoke of her piano playing. Aunt B, a glorious beautiful soul, came and graced us with her presence and she too engaged in conversation with us, and watched and blushed as Uncle B spoke of her. Of course after the many years of time spent together, she knew exactly what he was going to say and when, and even when he seemed to be steering in the wrong direction, her arms akimbo stance, brought Uncle B back to the best travelled path. I chuckled and enjoyed this play between them, offering a nudge here and there. Uncle B, reminded me of an Aunt of mine in Tobago, who would solicit laughter whilst keeping her face serious, he has an uncanny knack for that, pretending to not know that his banter is at times humorous, when we all know that he is internally snickering at us. He says my ability to psychoanalyze interested him and that my writing held his attention when I took people down the journey of who I met when I travelled and the conversations that ensued. Him having said that, brought me to the conclusion, that what better story to write than his.

He spoke of his days growing up, and the people of his village. About the local Asian shop and about an ice cream vendor, that he never bought ice cream from, because of the owner’s living conditions. He spoke about missed opportunities of interviewing his elders, acquiring the knowledge of why they did what they did, and what made them who they were. We spoke about many a famous person that crossed his path. Aunt B added to the conversation about her ancestors and the fact that they experienced things in the United States that was not a common experience for a Caribbean person. Aunt B spoke of slavery and the abolishment, segregation and experiences that she had as a child, visiting foreign lands.

We spoke of their grand children, my children, gifts, talents and generations to come. We spoke of art, paintings and photography. Uncle B spoke of his ‘honey to do’ lists and his impression of how he was shaped, molded and commandeered into now not knowing what to do with himself without directional aid. Of course this raport was met by raised eyebrows, and rolled eyes from Aunt B. Who said “don’t worry with him”. Aunt B, spoke of the things she loved of Trinidad and of the many places that she lived and the experiences that she gained in each place. Her love of the ‘Jose’ festival and ‘moko jumbies’, there was a gleam in her eye when she spoke about the present season we were in and another appreciation that she had, ‘parang’.

This life couple has a natural appreciation of the arts and vitality around them. They appreciate, dance, drama, painting, drawing, music, writing, poetry, and all that our confusion of cultures have to offer. What a blessing to be in their presence.

What a glorious afternoon, it is now time to depart to pick up my beloved children from school.

Here are a few pictures taken in and around San Fernando!