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Trinidad

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This is a chapter from my third book called Love letters

Trinidad is a beautiful place. Even in the chaos of problems that we face you can still manage to find things that put a smile on your face. My earliest memories of Trinidad are from the hills of Mount Pleasant in Arima. We lived in a rented downstairs where the roof leaked. There was a pitchoil stove in one corner. Outside there were mango trees. My mom tells me that the neighbor had a spring we could use when the water was locked off from the stand pipe. Chickens roamed freely and dasheen bush bhagi grew easily from another spring. We had a transistor radio working with battery as we had no electricity and light in the night came from a pitchoil lamp or flambeau. Many of our neighbors were as my mom describes them, mixture Carib people. Trinidad is a land of humble beginnings.

Now we have the latest model cars roaming the streets and tall buildings along the waterfront. We have more mobile phones than humans and we have wires that connect to our homes bringing the world to us. Back in the day you were lucky if you got O'Level passes but now many jobs require a degree. We have fast ferries shuttling the excited to and from Tobago. We had only one TV station back in the day that brought us Mc Guyver, Young and the Restless, Panorama and No Boundaries. No doubt the profits from oil and gas have been a blessing to development. But it may also have been a curse as we have yet to diversify the economy and we are facing modern problems that require us to work together and bring back the love.

What I love about Trinidad are the sights and sounds and tastes and smells of island life. I love drinking a cold coconut around the Queens Park Savannah. I love taking a drive in the red band maxi all the way to Arima and back. I love the quiet bus rides to San Fernando that gives me time to think and reflect. I love the sounds of the vendors in the Chaguanas market trying to sell me a bargain. I love the smell of salt water as I eat a bake and shark on Maracas beach. I love the sound of steelpan meeting arrivals at Piarco whenever that happens. I love the sounds of the drums on Emancipation day. These are the types of things that I want to hold on to and share.

My mom tells me that her favorite memory of Trinidad is taking the train to travel to school. Now the only trains we have are the LNG trains. Being Trinidadian for me is about making the best of what I have and having the freedom to be the best me. It is about not forgetting where I have come from and being involved and vocal about the future Trinidad I want to live in. I spelt Trinidad backwards and got "dadinirt". Bard tells me that "dadinirt" is a Trinidadian word that means to do something in a haphazard or careless manner or without thinking about the consequences. Never heard of this before and Google does not back up what Bard says. One of the example sentences Bard gave was "The government is dadinirting with the economy." As the famous words go, forward ever and backward never. My love for Trinidad marches forward.
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