I am a leatherback turtle

Yup, that's me... ain't I pretty

The lights in the horizon finally came into view as I came up for one last breadth. It had been a long journey from the cold water's of the around the Gulf of Maine where I had lived since my childhood, now it was time to come back home - to renew the never ending circle of life. It was time for the last push to the beach-head. As the land came rushing to me I vainly attempted to make maximum use of the incoming tide to gain as much traction as I could from the sea. From now on it would be a long and arduous walk up the beach, where a few years ago I was born, a struggling little turtle who scurried towards the safety of the ocean as soon as I emerged from my shell. At that moment, basic instinct for survival took over as I scampered along with my brothers and sisters to the sea. Many of us did not make this short trip, the birds of prey sweeping down from the sky took care of that. But at the moment it was altogether a different story. At 700 lbs in weight and at least 5 feet long (who said I was small) birds were, at best a distraction.
I inched myself onto the beach, patience was the key and procedure had to be followed. I looked around, my beady eyes scanning the landscape for a smooth bit of sand where I could build my nest. Through blurry vision I could also make out fuzzy shapes which were moving towards me from the light, shapes I had never encountered before. At last I found a spot, the temperature of the sand seemed just right and there was a sense of solitude, for now at least. I began the process of careful excavation of my nest. Oddly enough, although I had never done this before for some reason it seemed quite natural. Dig with one flipper, and pat down the sand with the other, scoop and pat, scoop and pat down I went, each time feeling for a stone or any obstruction that would hamper my attempt. Hey, I seem to be doing pretty well for a first timer, as I patted myself on the back - not bad at all.
Hmmm, what was that light, looking up and blinking at a reddish light that was shone towards me. I heard an excited chatter and the sound of footsteps shuffling along the sand. I dared not move, besides I was already halfway through the process and boy oh boy, was it tiring. If they wanted some space, there was lots of free space all along the beach - they could go someplace else - I had already established my claim to this one. Oddly enough, they didn't seem to do much, apart from stand in excited circles and speak in hushed voices. Were these the humans that I heard about - well if they were, then they didn't impress me one bit. Quite scrawny creatures I should say - no wonder the sharks preferred us to them.... humans were only preferred as one off appetizers... at least that was the word on the street. After a bit there was a lull in the conversation, I was nearing the end of my dig too. Carefully I started laying the eggs, oozing them out carefully as the plopped down in the soft sand. I was a bit apprehensive now - at my most vulnerable and had no where to go. I froze as one of the humans picked up my flipper, shining a light onto the eggs. Gosh, how could I protect my future offspring - I looked around but there was no solution lying about. As easily as the flipper was drawn aside, I felt him letting go and I breathed a sigh of relief. In a few moments, I was all done, adding a few more unfertilized eggs just for extra padding and food once the young ones hatched.

My precious baggage that night

Now I rested awhile, the effort of the struggle to climb high onto the sand and preparing the nest had taken its toll. I felt the humans feeling me all around, sigh... these days people have no respect for one's personal space. After a few moments, I began the final stage of burying the nest, shovelling sand back in and patting in down so it would stay nice and warm inside - just right for my young ones to develop. Hopefully, deep enough too, to prevent the marauding dogs from getting to it, we were critically endangered anyways, so tending on the side of caution was a never considered a waste of time. I then dragged myself up and down the sand a bit, to confuse the enemy - if they were going to attempt to get the eggs, well for one I sure wasn't going to make it any easier.
The final stage completed I looked around to smell the sea. The lure of the sea which long ago had beckoned me as a young turtle, once again welcomed me into its warm and secure embrace. I shuffled down to the shore, unburdened by the 100 eggs I had left behind accompanied by my prayers for their safe return. The wave came towards me and I dived right it.... it had been a long night.

Huvva Carib on me Mon - an insight into everday Trinidad

This was my first trip to an island anywhere in the world - and I was truly excited the prospect of getting to understand the place, since I would be spending a month at a single location - giving me an ample opportunity to examine and possibly get an insider's view of what the place truly had to offer. At the end of it - although I may not have had the luxury of visiting all the beaches and tourist spots the experience was quite nice indeed. In order to make sense of everything I divide my trip to Trinidad into a few set of highlights

- people
- food
- music
As usual - they are my own observations, and I would like to share it with you.

African or Indian... all end up as Trini's

The people:
The people here are a quaint mix of African and Indians (mainly from the states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar), possibly brought down 150 years ago by the British as indentured laborers to work the sugarcane plantations. The actual locals, the 'Caribs' are few and far between. Its no small wonder that names like Ramprakash are common names here - although oddly enough they are modified to be spelled out similar to how they would have been pronounced by the near illiterate laborers who were brought here, at least thats my theory. Thats why you will see the an Indian 'Ramprasad' now is 'Rampersad' - its the way it would have been pronounced in the 'pahadi' (particular region in the foot-hills of the Himalayas in India) Hindi.
The Indian community has been amazingly able to maintain their tradition and celebrate traditional festivals like Holi, Diwali with great fanfare and gusto. Every month there are Indian handicraft festivals all around the place - apparently earlier it was twice a year, but now its every month to meet an un-satiated demand. Its also that that the Indian diaspora (well known as Trini-indians) also seem quite a bit more wealthier than their African counterparts - so guess there is a lot of money floating around. Just as an aside - most of the money in Trinidad comes from oil, the country lying just off the coast of Venezuela explains a lot of thing, and its the richest of the Caribbean nations. That apart - the government is the biggest employer engaging, directly or indirectly at least 60% of the workforce.
Similarly the political system is also divided among racial lines - but from a daily glance through the papers, is as good as India's ... where the parties rotate every 4-5 years and the only agenda seems to be lining their pockets while filing lawsuit after lawsuit against the other party. Certainly helps keep the newspapers in business for sure!
There also seems to be quite a large disparity in wealth - and commodities certainly are very expensive, even more than the United States. This was all very strange to me, since I used to consider Trinidad on similar lines as India, where although there is income disparity many commodities are affordable to all.
But rich or poor, one thing that stood out among all the people was the warmth and friendliness shown by all. It wasn't the kind of artificial pretense that sometimes prevails in the 'first world' but the genuine show of affection and welcoming that I experienced everywhere I went. No wonder, you can never leave anywhere without having a 'lime' - the word akin to our 'chilling out' or siesta. Of course, this also results in abysmal productivity since liming is part and parcel of everyday life.... not that I was complaining either :-) Another aspect which is common irrespective of the race that you came from was the language - officially english, but spoken in a sing-song manner that initially was very difficult to comprehend. The initial few days was spent by saying 'no' to many things - partially because I never could figure out what was being asked in the first place!

The ubiquitous 'doubles'

Food
Food is most definitely a topic quite close to my heart. I am a firm believer that of all the stuff that one would like to experience in a foreign country - one of the essential 'must do' things includes a culinary adventure. After all just the kind of food the locals eat on a regular basis can reveal far more about their culture and heritage, since most of the exotic 'heritage sites' are disappearing so rapidly in the wake of 'modernization' - food seems to be the only thing that maintains its lineage.
Saying this I must admit that Trini food is truly unique - quite so like its people. Its a mixture of Indian (north Indian) and African food with a lot of spiced pepper garnished if you choose for good measure. The national food of the country is the ubiquitous 'doubles' - nothing but the Indian 'chhole bhatura' or chick peas served over two puri (i.e. fried wheat tortilla) with a dollop of chopped raw mango, onions and some hot sauce to top off.. Thats as Indian as it can get, and from a country that is predominantly carnivore - it is a bit surprising. But one fact for sure - go anywhere on the island and you will be sure to find a doubles stall somewhere around the corner. Its cheap (cost varies from TTD 2 to 2.50 per serving [6 TTD == 1 USD] - but apparently its an exponential rise from the previously prevalent 1 TTD in the past year) and a downing a few can easily serve as a full meal (morning/evening or night) or at least in our case - as a good appetizer to start a good meal.
An absolute favorite for a hearty meal was the roti, best eaten after an appetizer of 'doubles' and a beer - and yeah, walking along the street with a bottle is acceptable.... no - its encouraged in this country. Its essentially a bit roti with a bit of ground lentil 'dal' in between - and served as a wrap. You can stuff it with everything from goat, chicken (boneless or with bone - difference in price is around 50 cents), beef, shrimp and liver for meat, and vegetarian supplements including spinach (locally referred to as 'bhaji'), chick peas (chana), pumpkin and potato..... finally topped of with ... yup - you guessed right - hot pepper. So its an all encompassing meal for the person on the move - and it was a regular haunt - three to four times a week! Given the very reasonably prices of between TTD 10 to TTD 20 depending upon the meat - it was a no-brainer for a hungry stomach...... and it was pretty good too. The best place to get a roti (and also doubles too) are the ladies across the Smokey Bunty bar (apparently a political hotspot) in the St. James neighborhood of Port of Spain.
Apart from these two there are several other cuisine available - descending from all around the world which have now been modified to Trini tastes - which basically means something a bit on the sweeter side..... and then the killer pepper :-) But stuff like 'callaloo' - a spinach preparation, and Chinese food - which if you ask for a lot of gravy in the rice - resembles an Indian curry results in a quite a interesting variation to choose from. That is one of the cool things here - whichever culture comes here, assimilates itself well - so the concoction that results is certainly very interesting indeed.
Now among the other exotic food, which I confess I did not taste - but would have loved to try was the commonly available cow heel soup (yup, it is exactly that.... must be lot of cows with crutches around Trinidad...), shark fin soup (yes, this is available) and bake and shark (pita bread wrap with fried shark and an assortments of condiment - onions, pepper... more different types of pepper....) It is true that shark is quite popular here, and that its possibly endangered too - but God - shark is sooo good mmmm.
However the country is not immune to the onslaught of the big fast food chains - and this is manifested by KFC, which apparently owns the biggest, busiest and most profitable KFC around the world right here in Independence Square - Port of Spain. Visit it once, and everyone that day will know that you visited KFC. Wisely enough, I stayed away most of the time.
Now right to the beverages - people love their beer, and hell yeah - its pretty good. Right from the ever present Carib to the Stag. Another very common, and brilliantly refreshing drink is the coconut - you see a sign selling 'cold nuts' - head right to it. Its such a favorite that the next best favorite from the Stag is whiskey - mixed with nothing less but coconut juice ... crikey!!!!!!!! Just as a word of caution though - most places have no clue on how to mix drinks - so if you order a daiquiri or a martini - both may taste, and most likely are the same, the only difference being the glass its served in. One good place for cocktails though is the Hilton - go to the bar downstairs and ask for Glen - he is good at suggesting drinks, and you can enjoy it with a nice game of pool at a table overlooking the lovely Queen's Savannah Park in the heart of Port of Spain.
All the above was the good bit, however like everything there were some well errr.. mishaps that I perhaps should mention. One, which is so common that I am sure it was not just a one time accident is the tendency for restaurants to over-charge you for the meal. After being twice bitten - it was always down to carefully analyzing the bills after meals, even though it may have been uncomfortable or seen as unbecoming to my guests. Another was the super-duper long waits (an hour was not uncommon), and average food at the supposedly fancy restaurants resulted in quite a dreary experience for me - will trade that for a hot, instantly available fresh roti any day!
So just as a recommendation - if your in Trinidad, chuck the hotel food and walk along the streets - at least in safer areas - the food is fabulous and the hospitality and bonhomie makes it a wonderful gourmet experience.

'kidding' around at the Carnival

Music
Ah music and dance, that is one of the best exports of the Caribbean. The region that gave the world the Calypso now sways to the pulsating beat of 'Soca' - which from my untrained ear sounds something like a mixture of hip-hop and reggae. Down a couple of beers, and you will have no problem swaying to the beats of 'Doggie Slaughter' and the rest. The dance form like all things - never exists in its purity, but is aptly modified to meet the rhythms of the place. This is very evident in the few 'salsa' places - where the dance is an exotic blend of Latin American sensuousness combined with African pulsating beats - groovy.... And where would you buy such music - do not fear, cause the trend seems to be in hand drawn carts which plow the streets. Each cart is equipped with a CD player and huge speakers along with a car battery besides the CD's on sale of course.... On a Sunday if you walk down Independence square the music changes every 100 feet - as you pass one vendor after the other.... thats what you call live mixing :-)
And what about the Indians - well even that seems to be quite popular here, with not one but 3 Indian radio channels (one for oldies, another for contemporary and a third for the latest mixes). Add in a couple of the popular Indian television channels (Sony, Zee TV etc) and you can catch up on all the latest soaps that are being televised in India. Of course - everything with sub-titles, since I did not meet a single Trini-Indian who could actually speak Hindi :-D.

An Easter Reflection

'Human's hardwired to believe in a higher power' - screamed the headlines from CNN, part of a multi-part series discussing the existence (or non-existence as some may believe) of God, and His effect on society.
As the season of Lent draws to a close with its call for some personal introspection, a few thoughts swirl through my mind - as I try to comprehend the bigger meaning of all this.
First of all - the big question, why do I believe what I am instructed to believe in.... is it doctrine, is it blind faith - or is it something else altogether. I have asked myself this question many a time, each time trying to nail down an answer. Now to be completely honest, I do make a good attempt to go to church every Sunday (yes, I am a Catholic, and yes - most of the times I am successful in my attempt). But this does not by default make me a good person or a good Catholic. Nearly every religion I know preaches the same ideals on how to lead a good life - be honest, truthful, kind, gentle etc. But then what is it that draws me to Christianity ... personified by one individual, a carpenter's son who lived and died over 2000 years ago.
If he was living today he certainly may not have been my role model, by all standards of the modern world he was not highly educated, did not have a lot of money, and mixed about with the bedraggled type whose company I would prefer to shun. Although many have written books such a 'what would Jesus do' etc. I do suspect that if he was living in the present times he would have been scorned by most - similar to what happened a long time ago. So, if that is the reality, then is there something that attracts me to such a persona? I pondered on this topic over and over for the longest time, trying to rationalize something which maybe inherently irrational. The conclusion would have to have some relevance to me in today's crazy world - it was my faith after all.
The realization that came about was a somber acknowledgement of my relationship with God. My belief stemmed from the very fact, and its historically documented, that someone I did not know - but who may (and if you don't believe - may not) have known me was willing to stand in my stead, be spat on, reviled and mocked by all, and made to carry a heavy cross on his frail shoulders. If that wasn't enough he endured the sheer embarrassment of being stripped naked in front of a public audience, strapped against the very cross he labored across the pathways with and as a cruel grand finale - have a bunch of nails hammered into his wrist and feet and crucified. There, in his final hours hanging in absolute agony if he could find it within himself to be able to forgive everyone who hated him, and be able to bear the brunt of everyone cruelty without uttering a word of rebuke - I am not sure what I could say about the person. He would have to be absolutely insane, or simply love the people he died for so much - that it was unconditional, to the very end. Make no mistake - whether you believe he was God incarnate or not - he died as a man, just like you and me - he did suffer; excruciating pain would have been his only company, compounded with the agony of being left all alone, abandoned by his followers, and scorn poured on him from all.
The end result is that I am left with a burden that cannot be repaid. He knows that I will fail numerous times trying to become a better person, but His love will remain unchanged, His faith in me resolute. For this I have to acknowledge and give Him homage for the person who He was, is and will continue to remain for me until my last breath.