A Strange Morning

This morning started out like most mornings of my holiday break - waking up at 7 AM.  For some reason, I can't seem to sleep past this point in time.  Granted, while school is in session, I'm getting up every day between 5:00-5:30, so I guess in some respect, it is sleeping in.  But that is not the point of this story.

I had made plans with my friend Aaron to go find a new doubles stand that a colleague of ours claims are the best doubles in the country.  (Doubles are an incredible breakfast that are served only by street vendors and are rampant all over this country.  You usually can only get them in the morning hours and they are usually sold out by 9:30 or so.)  Anyway, Aaron had said that he would call when he got up and we would head out.  Knowing that he probably wasn't going to be up at 7 AM, I read a bit and actually fell back asleep a for a bit.

I woke again around around 8:00-ish and as I was laying in bed, I heard this really big truck drive by my apartment.  I live nearby a fairly main thoroughfare, so it's not uncommon to be awoken or to hear the traffic driving by.  But this was an usually loud truck.  

Then came this weird rumbling and my apartment started shaking a bit.  I thought there may have been an accident, but there weren't any noises of the truck hitting anything.  I ran to the windows and didn't see anything that looked like an accident.  So I thought, maybe there was an explosion.  I have no idea how the oil derricks in the ocean dig for oil and I'm very near the coast, so maybe that was it.  Or it could have been this building that is going up not too far from here (developers are taking out part of a mountain to put up these condos, so maybe they were doing some demo).  But I didn't hear any after effects or noises of the earth rolling down the mountain.

So after all this, I came to the conclusion that there was a small earthquake.  Now there was one in Indianapolis before I moved and thinking back to that, I think that's what this was.  I had no idea that earthquakes occurred down here (or in Indy for that matter), but apparently they do.  I got a call from Aaron and when he showed up, he confirmed that he felt it too (it sounded like a large truck to him also) and that they said something about it on the radio on his way over.  Now that we got that cleared up, we shrugged our shoulders in the manner of "Oh, I guess there's another thing about T&T that we didn't know about."

Ok, learning that there was no need to dwell, we moved on to our short trek to get some doubles.  The directions, which are quite common in Trinidad were as such:

"Go to Valsaynes (a town east of here) and turn left at the light by the drive in theater.  When you take a left, you're going to go up the road a bit and about 2 blocks before the stoplight, there will be a little lady with a doubles stand.  That's the one you want.  Now don't get confused with the orange pedestrian crossing lights, you want the actual stop and go lights."

Directions are given strictly by landmarks and visual clues and never by street names.  This is probably because only half the streets are labeled with street signs.  For a while, this was very confusing, because I didn't know where anything was, but now that I have a number of places committed to memory, I'm getting better at following the directions.  And surprisingly, we found this lady quite easily.

As for her doubles, I wasn't that impressed.  Aaron and I decided to do a taste test and got one doubles (always stated in the plural because you get two pieces of barra or the baked dough/bread that they put the channa or chick peas on) from the lady we were seeking out and one from a nearby competitor.  We both decided we liked the competitor a little better, but the jury is out because Aaron got the bags mixed up when we purchased them, so we aren't really sure which was which.  Either way, I still think I had better doubles at other stands, but these were still pretty good.

Now we were on our way back home - this stand we went to was about 30 minutes away.  And as we were driving down the highway (Aaron driving and me as the passenger) he blurts out "Pig".  I thought there was a cop, but the police in Trinidad don't really do much.  As I looked around, there was a huge pot-belly pig walking down the side of the highway.  Stray dogs are a frequent sight.  You might even catch some roosters and chickens here and there.  But pigs are a rarity.  Especially strays just wandering down the highway.

I can say that the rest of the day was relatively normal and lazy.  But it's not everyday that you have an earthquake, drive an hour round trip for street vendor food, and see farm animals wandering along a highway.  But that's Trinidad for you...once you think you've got it figured out, they throw something like this at you.

Darkness and Christmas

I've heard stories about the northern parts of Alaska, Canada, the U.K., where there are periods of the year when it is dark for 20+ hours a day (or something like that) and other parts of the year when it is light out for 20+ hours a day.  Apparently this can effect people adversely.  People go into long hibernating sleeps when it's continually dark and have intense bouts of insomnia when it is light out.  It's hard to get a bearing on what time of day it is when the days do not change to night or the nights do not change into days.

That's kind of how it is right now for me here in Trinidad.  I have absolutely no concept that it is almost Christmas.  Don't get me wrong, I still see advertisements on TV about the coming holiday.  The Trini's do Christmas big down here and there are decorations out.  But not having any change in the temperature has made this kind of a non-event for me. 

I know that in the states, everyone would say that I am completely nuts to say that being in the caribbean for Christmas doesn't enhance the holiday, but it's true.  I miss sitting in my house, watching the snow, illuminated by the street lights.  I miss being in a house that is dark, but only lit by the Christmas lights and maybe a fire in the fireplace.  I am anxiously awaiting the time when I can be bundled up in a sweater, and not because the AC is on at a ridiculous temperature.  The crunch of fresh snow under your feet...the feel of cold air in your nose and lungs...the joy of being in bed, bundled up under the covers...

All of these are things that we take for granted when we are immersed in them while rushing off to work or trying to get the windows of your car scrapped off or battling the drafts in our houses.  (I blame being born in a blizzard for my love of the cold and snow.)  

But this is also one of the things that I love best about traveling - that you stop taking things for granted and start appreciating what you have and what you are experiencing.  So while I still don't know if I'll truly be able to get into the Christmas spirit, I will be sure to enjoy the warm weather, the beaches, and everything else not cold.  I'll enjoy it enough for those back home cursing the cold.

Local Assistance

Normally I don't really believe in hiring people to do things that you can do yourself.  For instance, you can get a relatively cheap cleaning lady here (and many places abroad) to do your house/flat once a week or you could hire one to come every day and she will clean and cook your meals for you too.  While that would be nice, and as people say, help the local economy, it just feels a bit to bourgeois to me.  Instead I will live in filth until I find it too unbearable to handle and will then go on a two day cleaning and straightening spree (it takes me two days because I just can't clean for more than a couple hours at one time).

But recently it got to the point where I needed to call in the reinforcements.  I have a small strip in front of my house of various plants that were completely overwrought with weeds.  There was actually one weed that nearly reached the overhang above it (approximately 7 feet up).  I knew I was in deep when some pest control people came to spray for ants and they said that I should probably clean it up a bit.  I asked what was a weed, I've never been really good at identifying weeds in my native land let alone a foreign place, and they basically pointed to everything except 2-3 plants.  I kind of knew it was bad, but was just trying to play dumb foreigner.  Now that it was specifically pointed out to me, I realized that I had to do something about it.

There were a number of prickly weeds in there too that they told me to watch out for, so I figured that I would have to get some gloves.  Well, that would take at least a week of me procrastinating before I would be able to get gloves, regardless if there is actually a home improvement center a mere 5 minutes away.

I was finally getting to the point where I starting to get uncomfortable about the amount weeds when a little, old Trini man came to my door and said, "Jou need a bit of cleaning up wit d weeds here?  I work in d complex an can do it for you."  I'm trying to write phonetically so you might pick up a bit on the accent.  I said, "Umm, yeah I guess I do need to get on this.  How much would you charge?"  He said $40 (which when you convert to US, is about a little less than $7).  Being a bit of a miser about these types of things (as previously mentioned) I had to think about it for a second or two.  After thinking about weeding in approximately 90 degree temperatures, I decided that it would be $7 well spent.

In all honesty, even though I can't prove it, I think my neighbor probably said something to him to ask me because that guy is out there all the time cleaning and sweeping  his parking space, washing his car, tending to his little patch of plants, etc.  I guess when you pay as much as these folks are for the apartments, they want them to look nice.  Even though he has a tree that is planted in a cardboard box, which I never said anything about, I'll accept that my space was getting a bit out of hand.

Anyway, the little Trini gardener said that he couldn't do it that day, but would be back next time he saw my car in it's spot.  I week passed and I still didn't see the little guy.  Fortunately I didn't pay him ahead of time and I was about to actually go and buy gloves yesterday (the first day of my Christmas break) and I saw him coming into the parking lot.  I asked if he was going to be able to do my space and he said that he would do it on Sunday.  Whew!  I almost thought I was going to have to do some work there.

This morning I awoke to the pleasant hacking sounds of weeds whittled down to size by a cutlass (a machete of sorts) and the digging of pitchforks into the small swath of land I call a garden.  I feel good about helping out the local economy.  I feel even better that I didn't have to do this work in the heat.  But I feel best about being able to play up all the hard work I had to do to clean it up "from the prior tenants leaving it in such poor condition" when Angie comes down and impress her with my incredible gardening skills I inherited from my mother.  Now, if I could only prevent her from reading this for the next couple of weeks.

Busy, busy, busy

I think I can say with some fair amount of certainty, that I have never been as busy as I have since I moved down to Trinidad.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining, but I'm going to (hopefully) use it as a solid excuse as to why I haven't posted anything in the last month or so.  Of course, with the holidays, everyone's social calendar picks up a bit, but for me, this was a little silly.

Let's go back about 2 weeks ago, starting on Wednesday, December 3rd.  Normally Wednesday nights are "guys night" where all the guy friends who are down here who are married or living with girlfriends, ditch the girls and get together to play poker, insult each other, make bodily noises, and just do the crass things that guys do when they are together with a bunch of other guys.  This guys night was a bit different from the others because Mark, the guy who began the tradition and usually hosts, was not going to be able to make it.  To make a long story short, he asked his girlfriend to marry him.  Not something that one would typically do on a "guys night" but we all congratulated him nonetheless because Rebekah is an awesome girl.  So to celebrate, we all got messages to come meet them at this wine bar and have cocktails.

Then on Thursday, there is a standing Ultimate Frisbee game, which has become one of my new obsessions.  I love it!  It's kind of a cross between soccer and la crosse.  You try to get into an end zone to score, but you can't move once you catch the frisbee.  Lots of running and trying to get good field position.  But I'll go more into that some other time.  We (well they) tend to top off the game by sitting in the savannah where we play and drink beers.  I of course indulge in water.

Friday was our ISPS staff party.  Normally, employer sponsored staff parties are a little stiff.  But this was off the hook.  Everybody, and I mean everybody - myself included, were dancing and having a blast.  At times, it was a bit uncomfortable, as the local dance (called wining) is...ummm...basically rubbing and grinding on your partner, or whomever is nearby.  Definitely a bit of a culture shock, but when you see people of all shapes and sizes doing it, you see principals and counselors and teachers all doing it to each other, you realize that it is just a dance and that there is nothing implied by it.  An odd concept to get past, but it loosens everyone up because everyone's guards are let down, everyone is invading everyone's space, and you just have a good time.

Saturday rolls around and there is another game of Ultimate Frisbee planned, which is promptly followed by a going away/engagement/birthday party at my neighbors flat.  Going away for a student teacher at ISPS who is heading back to the states.  Engagement for Mark and Rebekah and birthday for me.

Sunday was kind of a lazy day until about 5:30 when I went over to Katie and Aaron's place and met up with Meredith (Ryan was ill) and had a mini barbecue and played a game of Monopoly for my actual birthday.

Monday I got the day off.

Tuesday was the high school staff party.  We went to this place called Sails, which is on a small wharf overlooking the ocean, some of the smaller islands, and as I've found every day in Trinidad, a beautiful sunset.

Wednesday, we were back to guys night.  This one was hosted by me and only went until about 11:00 or so.  But I couldn't fall asleep until about 12:30.  Which kind of sucks because I usually get up between 5:00-5:30 to start getting ready for school.

Thursday was supposed to be another game of Ultimate Frisbee, but I just couldn't go.  I tutored some kids after school and that took me up almost to the point where I had to leave for Ultimate.  Granted since I was constantly moving, I probably could have made it, but I was just too tired.  So I took a nap instead.  I felt bad for letting my fellow Ultimate players down, because sometimes it's hard to get enough people for a good game, but it just wasn't in me.

Then came Friday, which was our last day of school before break.  Fortunately (or unfortunately depending on how you want to look at it), it was also the day that I had to go to Immigration to get my multiple entry/exit visa so I could leave the country without having to pay every time.  So I missed a day that would have been pretty low key and filled with parties and good times in my classroom, but I also got the day off of work.  And considering it only took the 4 of us who went 2 hours at the Immigration office, it pretty much was a full day off.

Saturday (yesterday) we had another Hash.  They come around every other week and I am really loving these things.  It's fun to run through the rain forests and rivers and mud and all of that.  It let's you act like a kid, but as an adult.  And it's good exercise too.  I was also invited to go to a party at the Marine's House, which is where all the Marines who guard the embassy live.  But I was kind of burnt from the week and decided not to go.

That brings us to today, which will be filled with a pool party at a friend's place followed by a spaghetti dinner at the parent's of a student's house.  They are also the ones who held the 'misfit' Thanksgiving for all the ex-pats who didn't have someplace to go to celebrate.

I think that takes care of most of my scheduled plans now until Angie gets here on Christmas.  I'm looking forward to just hanging out around the apartment and just relaxing and enjoying my time off.

So was all that a good excuse why I haven't posted in a while?

There's an interesting dichotomy

Today there were a mad rush of e-mails as the day started to come to a close after lunch.  There were storms coming in from the east and due to the increased traffic, those traveling east were allowed to leave early.  Other teachers should try to help cover and supervise the classes where teachers were leaving.  Parents were coming in early to pick up their kids to try to beat the traffic.

We've had a lot of rain lately.  Normally the skies open up and it pours down rain for about 10-15 minutes and then it's done.  But the last 4-5 days, it's been rain like it is up in the states.  A long steady rain over an hour or two.  So the ground is very saturated, the roads are already crappy and we live on a very hilly/mountainous island.  So there is a lot of flooding in homes, on roads, and with rivers.  Even a bridge has collapsed and was washed away.

So while those of you back in the states battle the cold and soon the snow as well, and longingly await a snow day (especially the teachers up there), we down in the caribbean await the rain day.  Seems so odd, doesn't it?

Take a hike

This week I was invited to go on a short hike with one of the other teachers at my school, Anthony, and his daughters.  Anthony has talked about this hike a couple of times and it really piqued my interest. 

It's a hike up in the hills north of an area called Diego Marten (here it's pronounced Dago Marten).  The hike has two paths, one for the old men and one for the real men, as Anthony has put it.  And the paths are continually watched by "Claws".  Claws is the guy who lives in these hills and maintains these little shrines along the paths and also does various carvings in the trees along the path.  Claws is named as such due to his extremely long fingernails.

We decided for an early Saturday morning hike and Nick and his girls also joined in on the fun.  the day was overcast and filled with sprinkles.  We met up around 9:30 and drove off the the entrance of the path.  Of course, not being men to back down from a challenge, we took the path for real men, which essentially was hiking up a river, climbing on rocks, occasionally the bank of the river, and often through the river.  The most challenging part of hiking up this river, which really was mostly rocks and some knee (sometimes waist) deep water was making sure the girls stayed dry and didn't freak out.  Fortunately, all 4 of these girls were very adventurous and didn't mind getting their shoes wet or slipping and stumbling here and there.

We began the trek and it quickly opened to this small clearing where all these painted, wooden statues stood.  I have no idea what they mean, if anything, but it was very cool to see these things in the middle of the rain forest, which can be a very tranquil place.  After taking a handful of pictures and looking for Claws, looking at us, we decided to venture on.  Unfortunately we did not get to see Claws, so we'll have to continue to imagine what he might look like.

Shortly after the little shrine, we came across this thin path, covered with wet leaves.  It was getting kind of slick, but what caught our attention more than the wet and slippery path was the many butterflies flying about.  There is one particular butterfly that always catches my eye.  I believe it is called the Blue Monarch.  On the top side of it's wings, it is almost an electric blue color.  On the bottom side is it's camouflage to protect it from it's predators.  We found one giant Blue Monarch attached to the side of a tree, obviously a little scared of us because it's wings were closed and all we saw was it's camouflage.  These wings had to be a little bigger than the palm of my hand.

After the photo op, we continued down the slick path to the first of many river crossings.  Here we climbed on wet rocks, covered with moss.  It was extremely slippery.  And blocking our path was the largest spider I've ever seen in the wild.  This thing had to be about 2-3 inches long.  Fortunately, the web was kind of high and we were able to duck under it.  However, it was low enough that if we didn't see it, it would have been

 right in one of the adult's faces.  It was a little creepy, but that's what you get in the wild.

Shortly after the spider, I had a slightly scarier moment.  We were crossing this relatively shallow part of the river and walking across rocks that were slightly bigger than our feet.  Sometime when crossing wet rocks you have to be quick, sometimes you have to take your time.  The trick is to know when to do what.  This time, I didn't choose properly.  I lost my balance, fell on my butt and into the water.  Now I can take bumps and scrapes - not a big deal.  But the scary thing was my camera was in my pocket.  Fortunately, it was in another pouch inside my pocket, which absorbed most of the water and it didn't get in or on the camera.  That would have sucked big time.  So the next time we had a challenging rock to cross, I tossed my camera to Nick and he took some pictures of me trying to get across the rocks/river. 

We continued down the river and finally came across our final destination.  There was this big waterfall pouring into this pond.  The water was a little dirtier than usual because the night before we had a lot of rain, so there was a lot of sediment in the pond.  But Anthony said that usually the water is a clear blue.  We stayed at the waterfall for a bit while behind us three Shouter Baptists were doing some kind of baptism or spiritual cleansing.  Contrary to what you might think, they were a very quiet trio.

After our stay at the waterfall, we took the old man path back to our cars, which took us barely a 1/4 of the time as the river route.  But it definitely would not have been as exciting or adventurous if we took that path up to the waterfall.  Then we went to the northern coast of the island, which was only a short 10 minute drive.  Here all you could see was the vast ocean.  Apparently there is a great path that it about 3 miles long and goes to Chagaramas, an area that we frequent quite a bit for other small hikes.  We didn't go along to trail because Nick and I were starting to run late for an Ultimate Frisbee game.  

For quite possibly the first time...

...in my life, I can say that I am proud to be an American.  Now don't get me wrong, I have always felt very privileged to be a US citizen, more so now than ever as I have started to travel to new countries and see how other people live and other governments govern.  But there is a quote from a song from one of my favorite bands, Endpoint, which probably most people reading this have never heard of before.  The quote goes "I love my country but I won't close my eyes."  And that is how I have felt for most of my life.  I'm not going to ignore the faults and injustices that I see every day.

The United States of America is a great nation, but it far, far from perfect.  But now, with the election of our new president, I, like millions of other US citizens, have hope that we can chip away at those imperfections.  That we can rebuild our reputation and status across the globe, that we can come together as a people, as a nation, and do what is right.

People don't like to believe it, but there is still a considerable amount of racism in the US, both on an individual level and on a systemic level.  Think about if you clutch your purse a little tighter when a black man passes you on the street.  Think about if your heart beats a little faster if you approach a group of black male youths when you are out alone.  Visit an inner city school and look at the conditions of the school vs. the conditions of a suburban school, or talk to the students and families and see if they truly get the same opportunities and are treated the same way as you are treated as a white person.  

I'm not necessarily that if you feel different in these situations if I replace the word "black" with "white" that you are a racist.  But I am saying that our society has not created this equal state that we are lead to believe it has.  There are things, images, ideas, that are so ingrained in our subconscious by our upbringing and current media, that we still do treat people differently based on the color of their skin, what religion they adhere to, or their family heritage.  However, this election is one step in the right direction to close that gap.

As I was typing this and trying to post it, still glowing in the election of president-elect Obama, I saw the results of a handful of propositions that were being voted on across the US, banning gay marriage and banning adoption of children by gay individuals and couples.  All of these propositions passed, thus restricting the rights of citizens of the United States who want equal rights to love and care for each other and for children in dire need of a home.  So while we have progressed to the point where we are not trying to intentionally discriminate against people with different color skin than our own, we as a nation still find it OK to publicly discriminate against gay people.

Well at least I was proud for about 20 minutes.