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!
©
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.
 |
| Off Mosquito Creek |
 |
| Off the proposed board walk (Black and White) |
 |
| Off the proposed Board Walk |
 |
| San Fernando Wharf |
 |
| San Fernando Wharf |
 |
| Union Hall, San Fernando - Hibiscus |
 |
| Union Hall, San Fernando, Rain Kissed Lime |
 |
| Union Hall, San Fernando, we liming in black and white with some vignetting |
 |
| Union Hall, San Fernando, rain sprinkled leaves |
