Departure Date? (by Beenie Girl)

I am not normally a person who gets horridly homesick. I do miss loved ones when I am not at home, but in general I tend to be okay once I can communicate with them on some level on a regular basis. Now and again I crave some salt prunes or doubles or something else from home, but generally I tend to be okay away from home. BUT I don't know what is going on with me these days. I am just missing all kinds of boys, girls, animals, places, things and even TV shows . . .

I feel homesick.

WHY?

Well this may sound weird but it only just dawned on me that I don't know when I am leaving this place. Normally if I am away from home, I at least know or have an idea of how long my intended stay will be, so I usually just keep that in mind and I am alright in the interim because I know that I just need to suck it up and enjoy where I am until the time comes for me to go back home. I know they say that a posting is normally three years, but the fact is, it can be shorter than that or it can be longer than that. Really and truly I am here until these people say I can go home. And that is what is bothering me - I have no departure date.

So I've been feeling a little bummy, I have not even felt like blogging in a while. I am at a point now where I don't want to hear another word of Spanish or see another plate of black beans. I just want to be home. I miss the look on my nephew's face when I go visit for the weekend. I miss roaming all over Port of Spain in the City Service Shuttle. I miss putting on my rubber flip-flops, strolling down the road from Belmont and going shopping on Charlotte Street on Saturday mornings. I miss going to the movies with my brother in law and going from one movie into the next until our eyes get tired. I miss driving to Gulf City just to buy ice-cream. I want a wing special from Royal Castle, with lots of ketchup and pepper. I want to watch HGTV for 4 hours straight. I want a bag of Cheetos and an Apple J. I just want to be home.

I haven't even been here that long, so I have lots more time to go. . . Hopefully this is just a phase that will wear off a bit soon.

The world is our Battle Field (by Sylph)

Before leaving headquarters to take up our new adventures at post, we under went a series of training programmes, ranging from dealing with transitions, to immigration and accounting procedure's. However, at no point were we trained in combat techniques, the art of haggling, or preparing ones digestive system to deal with the new cuisine. I can vividly remember persons LAUGHING at my request for weapons training, as everyone for some reason down-played the seriousness of the environment in which we were about to enter. However, in the three months that we have been at post, already two of my colleagues at different missions, have had to develop evacuation plans in the event of civil unrest and things becoming to RISKY. Can anyone tell me why???? No where in the job specs or application process they made mention of the requirement for persons to have excellent skills in evacuation techniques at short notice. My advise though to anyone that might find themselves in such a situation, is to pack light and always ensure that your passport is at hand. This is no time for make-up, memorabilia, sexy shoes or cute outfits. Because your life might be dependent upon it.

Another issue of great concern is the matter of health care. This is one issue that my girl in Havana does not have to contend with, however for the rest of, particular the ones across the Atlantic, there is a grey cloud of uncertainty as to the health situation and what pertains when the need arise. Because some of us now find ourselves operating in an environment containing diseases and outbreaks, whose spread has either been significantly reduced or has been eradicated from our side of the Atlantic many many moons ago. Yes we were all immunized with a truck load of vaccinations before our departure and some of us started taking weekly treatments for malaria. However, I was later advised that the malaria treatment was just that, only a TREATMENT and was really not a preventative drug. So the possibility of contracting the dreaded disease was quite high, even on the medication. Added to which the long-term side effects of being on the treatment for an extended period of time was even worst than contracting the dread disease... So clearly there was no winning in this situation, its either we contract malaria and hope for the best, or we expose ourselves to longtime kidney or liver failure. WHOOPEE!!!!!!!!! Actually just a few days ago my mother and I were advised to allow the mosquitoes to bite us, so we can build up our resistance. I looked at the Dr. as though she was from Mars, because she certainly was not speaking my language. My advise for the fight against malaria, tonnes of Off, citronella and any other form of insect repellent you can put your hands on, in addition to which, your accommodation must have screened windows and tonnes of bug spray, just in the event that one of those disease spreading little critters manage to make their way inside. Mosquitoes do not stand a chance in my apartment.

The concept of haggling was also a new phenomenon that some of us have to contend with. For those of you that have never come across the word, thank your lucky stars. To haggle, as so eloquently described in the Nelson's Contemporary English Dictionary means to bargain or argue especially over prices or terms. I could not have said it better. Let me describe, you enter the market and beginning to browse, on seeing something that you would like to purchase, you enquire the price. Now you have to enquire, because somehow the concept of price tags did not make it across the Atlantic. The vendor on realising that you are not a native or regular customer, calculates the most ridiculous price in his or her head and boldly proclaims. Now this is where the haggling begins.... On hearing the proclamation you do not flinch, act surprised or attempt to display money, you simply say "are you out of your mind" and call a price just below what you are willing to pay. The vendor shakes his or her head and maintains the price first proclaimed. You, as serious as a heart attack does the same, maintaining your offer..... By then the vendor begins to realise that you have been on the local scene for a while, so the third offer will be slightly reduced. You on the other hand are maintaining your first offer without cracking grin, because this is some serious negotiations. At this point you are guaranteed to hear a sad story, about the devaluation of the local currency, how difficult it is to survive, the high quality of the product, or some other pack of tripe. Whatever you do, never give in and maintain a serious disposition. At this point, you can add a few dollars onto your offer price and if they persist with their offer price, simply walk away. You will be amazed of the effect that act of walking has on the haggling process, because some how the vendor automatically comes to their senses and chase after you with product in hand. Only then will you become aware of the true price, as the vendor in the sweetest tone, begin a different type of negotiation with you to get the good off of his or her hand. That's when you offer your final price and on most occasions its accepted, so you seal the deal. My advise to anyone attempting to haggle for the first time, always be equipped with a calculator, know the conversion rate between the two currencies and have an established amount that you are willing to spend on the item, otherwise you are guaranteed to be robbed.

They always say that what don't break you, will certainly make you stronger and we can attest to that. The world is our battle field and I will assure that these soldiers are ready for combat, so believe me when I say we will come out victorious.

Growing up in 80's (by Sylph)

As a child growing up in the 80's there was a certain level of innocence and simplicity to life. Life was not bombarded by cable TV, Nintendo, computers, the Internet, cell phones, DVD and MP3 players, and the rest of innovations that the new millennium has introduced. Instead, we had one television station that signed-off from midday to 4pm, when the infamous Sesame Street would be aired. We had Beta Max video players and for the fortunate Atari games for entertainment. The average child of that era grew up playing board games, such as snake and ladder, ludo and monopoly and had to be creative and generate games on their own to amuse and entertain themselves. We were masters at playing moral and hop-scotch, jump rope and hide and go seek, which all had the added benefit of providing us with our daily dosage of exercise. Obesity and child diabetes in the 80's was simply unheard of. So to was today's catch phrase, "I'm Bored"..... Not for the life of me can I understand what a child growing up in the new millennium can possibly mean by that. Is it that over exposure leads to a drain on a child's creative capacity, or they simply do not know how to express themselves and mistakenly think that beinging overwhelmed by too many toys and electronic activity, is best described as boredom???? Because somehow I cannot remember that phrase being a part of the vocabulary during the 80's. Children were never bored, a matter of fact I do not think they knew that such a word or phrase existed. There was too much outdoor activity for a child to possibility think about boredom. How can one be bored when there were fruit trees to climb and raid, cousin's and neighbours to play catch and rescue all day, and drains and canals to run races for the most coveted title of sail boat champion of the day.

During the 80's we did not have much, however we had creative minds and we ensured that the little we had went a L-O-N-G way. I clearly remember mid 1980's when the country hit rock bottom and the IMF and World Bank had to be called in for economic restructuring. It was a gloomy period for the economy. Back then very few persons knew about the IMF, so for the average man it was very unsettling when the Government started introducing the new fiscal and monetary policies. No COLA, salary reductions, trade embargos, increased tariffs, limited access to foreign exchange.... and this was followed by the closure of many companies and job loss for hundreds of employees.

Now to be honest at the age of eight, amidst all of this economic restructuring, all you are concerned about are your three square meals and snack at the end of the day. But when the composition of those meals begun to be affected by the restructuring, primarly the embargo, things became little agonising. For example, a typical breakfast pre-recession could have been comprised of bread/bake and some sort of filling, with strawberry Quick and for snack later on that day you would have been certain to have one of kelloggs many variety packs of cereal, either frosted flakes, or corn pops, or apple jacks, or fruit loops and the list could go on and on. Post recession however, there was strict ban on imported food products..... So now all little children have to aquiant themselves with the local brands and manufacturers and say welcome to Milo and Ovaline. Up to today, I cannot bring myself to consume any form of cholocate breakfast drink. I was raised on strawberry Quick. Another low point, was the ban on the import of fruits, so that christmas there was not an apple, grape or pear on the market. For some reason that was the only time of the year parents would be inclined to purchase such fruits, so most children were bewildered the first year we had to do without. But we survived......

Another element of the recession that I never quite understood until reaching adulthood, was the friends and neighbours that mysterious left the country, never to return. Some made it seem as though they were going on a little vacation and others simply left after bad-talking the country and the government. Then a year or two later you realise their properties were up for sale, by the BANK and you started to wonder, what really going on here.

Fortunately, my family was able to survived the storm of the last recession and it equipped us with the tools to get by, no matter what the economy is going through. And I was fortunate enough to have studied economics and international relations, so now I oh to well understand the concept of economic restructuring and the purpose of the IMF..... as well as banks moving in and selling properties, when their former owners abandoned them and migrated, leaving their mortgages unpaid.

No one knows what the future has in store however, I sincerely hope that it does not include IMF intervention, because I am not too sure that the children of the new millennium could withstand the pressures of economic restructuring.

Welcoming the RECESSION (by Sylph)

Well, we all know that the world is experience an economic recession, this is no secret and if you don't know, then I will have to assume that you are living in a glass case and has not been out for air in a really LONNNGGG Time... Poor you.... But this recession is the real deal and not one economy will be left unscathed. Since I have been in Nigeria, the value of the Naira (the local currency) has depreciated twice to the US dollar. And if a depreciation is announced in the morning, by afternoon all prices, be it in the supermarket, store, market and/or street vendor, ALL prices increase and they tell you that they now have to pay more for their goods. So I can only assume that for the average Nigerian, life is becoming rather costly on their stagnant salaries.

But as the recession takes turn form, the world is looking on at the impact it is having on some of the larger economies, such as the US and UK, which has been hard hit financially. In response to the economic downturn, the Prime Minister of Trinidad and Tobago, in November, 2008 called on citizens to "Tighten their belts". This call was met with heavy criticism and complaints, as some persons believed that the call came too early and would negatively impact sales and business over the Christmas and carnival periods. One month into the new year however, the nation was informed of Government's intervention in one of the country's largest financial companies.... And I ask, where are the critics today and what do they have to say?????

Now do not get me wrong when I say, I WELCOME the recession, (in the Trinidad and Tobago economy). Because for a country as small as we are and for the wealth of resources that we have access to, the cost of living was simply OUT OF HAND. The rate of inflation, property values and food was just too high. It was becoming tough for a poor man to exist..... And what was alarming was that the average man no longer seemed to value the concept of saving. It was almost as though they believed that the buoyancy of the economy would last forever. So everyone was buying new vehicles and investing in million dollar properties, when we all knew that those two bedroom, townhouses, were no where near the million dollar prices range, but they were investing all the same, because the forecasters said that the boom would last at least another five years.

I would admit that I am no economist, however I knew the economy could not survive for much longer in the manner in which it was going. So when the PM made his announcement I welcomed it with open arms, because I knew things could only get better. Of course for some it will get a lot worst, but for me, right now, the recession is the best answer.

You see, I grew up during the last recession and one thing I learnt and treasure from that period is the value and importance of savings. No matter how little or small the amount, it added up to something at the end of the day. As a child, all my mother use to say was 'we living on the bread-line'.... Now to be quite honest, I heard her make that statement as recent as last year and I could not help but remark, 'this is the longest bread-line ever, when were we going to reach the top.' But we existed in the line quite comfortably and rarely had a need or want and if we did, we were quite aware that nothing came easy, so you had to wait for what really matter in life. Unfortunately, the children of today have no concept of waiting or wanting, as most of them are in the 'over-stock line'......

I am certain we have all witnessed a child bawling and screaming and sometimes even rolling on the ground as though they were just informed that their family was wiped out by Hitler and their home was taken over by the Nazi's and they had to flee Europe. And most times this show-down is as a result of their mother saying no to one of their outrageous requests. What always amazes me however with that picture, is the mother of that child always seems to be calm and collective and speaking in a very low tone, asking them to behave. Now children of my era grew up hearing only NO..... so much so that on the rare occasion that we heard yes, we became confused and would sit quietly in anticipation trying to figure out what was really taking place and whether or not it was true. We knew better than to throw a tantrum in public, as that certainly would have lead to us losing our lives or coming very close to it..... But I am extremely grateful for all of the lessons learnt growing up during that period, as it has molded me into a more appreciative adult.

I am certain that this recession will be like no other and would greatly impact on the lives of many. However, I do hope that as a result of it, we become better citizens and more appreciative of the things we have and the thing we have to wait for. Always remember the ole saying, 'Rome was not built in a day'. It might take some time for our economies to recover and even for our bank accounts to recover, but we must remember that every drop in the bucket adds up and try to view the recession in a more positive light. Yes, some of us might lose jobs and properties in the process, however recession is the mother of new innovation and creativity and with that brings new earning potential.

So during this time of recession we need to reflect and dig deep, to find the true creative being that has been over shadowed for far to long, by the routine of our daily lives. However, when we do, we must not ignore, because that creative being might just lead to us earning a fortune.

Old Havana Part 2 (by Beenie Girl)

So we went walking about in old Havana to do a little shopping. We went to a "feria" (basically an open air market) which featured mainly touristy-type items such as souvenirs, paintings, sculptures, leather hand made stuff like slippers and handbags. First of all, it is an area with some kind of make-shift tents, cause they dismantle them every evening and re-build them again the next morning. They provided good shade from the sun so I was thankful. However, my problem is, I need to leave them a little note asking them to kindly raise them all about 6 inches, just so I can walk around comfortably without having to bend or get my afro puff caught in the wires used to mount the tarpaulin! My mom had to pick pieces of stuff out of my hair the rest of the day LOL The feria was not set up for 6 footers! But anyway, moving along!

In and around the feria everyone is selling something … apart from the vendors in the booths, there are people walking around tryin to make a buck. Selling cigars, offering horse carriage rides, offering island tours, offering to braid your hair (yes braid, I should go open up a braiding stall, right Sylph?) Right near the feria there was a coconut vendor, who came in very handy in the midday heat. The coconut water was nice and coooold and my jelly was a bit firm but sweet. He even gave me a straw. Yes I know a true Trinbagonian does not drink coconut water with a straw, but I do eat roti with a fork anyway, so I guess I am not normal!

The place is really lively and I did get some nice stuff - some wooden sculptures, some really quirky jewelry, some tiny guayaberas for my nephews- it was a cool scene till you get fed up of people hounding you at every turn to buy things and you need a break. It is a little annoying after a while because people make you out as a foreigner and practically mob you to buy things, or beg you for money.

While I am on the topic of beggars, when we were done at the feria, my mom and a coworker and I were walking along one of the main streets in Old Havana looking for something to eat. My mother was behind me and I hearing her saying “No, no, no”. So I look back and she is talking to this man, who I assume musbe was either homeless or very poor based on his condition. Now my mother knows no Spanish (ok maybe she knows Buenos dias, manzana, leche, adios, about 20 words or so) but the last time I checked NO is the same thing in Spanish and in English, so if she say “no” he should be understanding her, not so? Next ting I see Mr. Man grab on to my mother hand. So of course I switch into “insane” mode. I told him leave us alone (in Spanish). My boy look at me and GROWL. Yes I said growl, like a dog. So of course at this point I start to laugh. I say wait, this man feel I am the average tourist? That a growl will make my run away and cower in fear? He don’t realize my country’s capital is the PARADISE of mad people and vagrants. We interact with them everyday. They barter with us for money and other loot, quarrel wid us when they don’t get enough, they wine in the band like normal fuh Carnival. Well don’t talk about pipers, they come in handy for cutting lawns and moving heavy objects…but back to growling man… So after I had my fill of laughing I told him “Man, I will hit you ONE bag!” I dunno how he knew what I said, but probably my stance and the way I took my hand bag off my shoulder and held it like a sling, he deduced what I was saying and left speedily!

So we walked a little bit more and finally found a place selling these mini pizzas. The man was making them right on spot, they smelled and looked good, so we say nice, this looking like lunch. Then we realize the crowd of people on the sidewalk is actually the LINE. So I don’t know if maybe the fellah saw the look on my face when I saw the line, but nex ting we see him motioning to us, callin us by the side of the shop. Before we know it, the man serving us our pizza from the side of the shop. WELL YOU KNOW I WAS GLAD cause my my belly was in my HAND! So the man show me 2 fingers, I took out 6CUC (three mini pizzas multiply by 2CUC). I find he watchin me weird and pointing at the money. So I start to wonder, I mean 2 x 3 is still 6 isn’t it? I know I don’t like math, but I not THAT bad. Same time Mr. Pizza man’s co-worker looks out the side and ask him “¿Que pasa?” So he close the door before he get catch givin us a ‘bligh’. You know the following week when I went back I realize it was not 2CUC, but 2 Cuban pesos for that darn pizza. Now let me update you, Cuba had two currencies in operation - the official currency is the Cuban Peso then there is the Convertible Peso (CUC) which is in a sense a local alternative to foreign currencies. 1 CUC is equal to 24 Cuban pesos, so basically my 6 CUC paid for pizza for all them people on the sidewalk that day and a few more I am sure. Steuuups! That’s what I get for breaking the line, right?

Old Havana, never a dull moment!

Rubber Dub Dub

Rubber, Dub, Dub, two men finally delivered my tub.....

I arrived at post at the end of October, approximately two and a half months ago and since my arrival the washing machine and dryer that the Mission provided for my use was OUT OF SERVICE and according to the technician that made several attempts to repair and locate parts for this ancient machine, the damn thing was unserviceable. That was all I needed to hear to be honest, because even though I am no technician, from just looking at the machine, one knew that getting it in working order was certainly going to be a TALL Order. And even though I will be the first to admit that these Nigerians are pretty skillful with their hands, repairing that appliance would have gone down in the miracle books right under bringing the dead back to life.

So the machine and dryer was written off as unserviceable, lets get a new one. But now I am informed that approval has to be sought from Headquarters. And I wonder, wasn't the mission informed by headquarters two months prior to my arrival that I was on my way to Abuja??? In addition to which, the machine looked as though it had not been touched since the last person who resided in my apartment left, several months ago. Was there no thought into the process of acquiring appliances for my arrival?

Okay, so approval for the purchase was sought and the wait begun. In the meantime I have NO WASHING MACHINE or dryer.... So another plus of living on top the shop is that you can easily borrow from or have access to appliances of your colleagues, because they are just a stone throw away.

Approval finally arrived at the end of December and we rush out and made our selection and eventual purchase of a washer and dryer combo for my apartment, and I breathe a sign of relief, because finally things are starting to take shape in the apartment.

The grand and long awaited machine was delivered yesterday and boy was I excited, because finally I can wash in the privacy of my own apartment and do not have to inconvenience anyone at the residence. But on its arrival we encounted a slight problem with getting the machine into its designated space. It was a TIGHT FIT..... Real Tight.... To be honest it almost did not fit and they begun to explore other options to locate the machine. But to be honest, yesterday was not one of my better days, so I was in no mood for a machine that could not fit, or a group of persons walking through and through my apartment asking questions or my opinion on anything. At that time I simply did not have an opinion and really did not want to be bothered. So the delivery guys gave up and the machine was left at the front entrance.

A few hours later however, two gentleman arrived to install my oversized machine and dryer combo and they were determined to make it fit. One of them wiped out his measuring tape, measured the machine, measured the doorframe and exclaimed, "of course this can fit".... And that it did. A few minutes later, after much pushing and shoving and reangling of the machine, it was in the door and sitting where it belonged. A Lusty Round of Applause to these two gentlemen, because they have just accomplished what the delivery man a few hours before, had deemed as Impossible..... So another round of Applause to them.

So now that its inside, is time to install. Because a machine is no use if there is no electrical and plumbing installation. So they begin the installation process and I begin to relax. But two minutes into the relaxation I hear the question, "do you have the vent for the dryer???" My response, "what vent, isn't that included?" "No ma'am that is not included, you have to purchase the vent separately." My response, "that don't make sense, it should be included, but okay we will have to get one." Because in the back of my mind the objective is to be able to wash at my convenience first thing on Saturday morning, so the vent will be purchase. The men go back to doing their thing and I go back to relax.

Two seconds later I hear, "Do you have the plug???" Now to be honest, things was going good until I heard this......

My response, "WHAT THE HELL YOU MEAN?"

He repeats, "the PLUG"?????

I ask, "What PLUG?????"

Him "The Plug for the Machine"

Me "The Machine does not come with a PLUG?????"

Him "No M'am, smaller machines come with plugs, ones this size does not....""""

Anyone that knows me well, will know that at that point I walked off, because this country has done it again. Things never cease to amaze me in this place.... Nothing is done in the conventional manner, NOTHING I say..... This incident reminded me of my recent visit to a store named Bedmate. I went there in search of an imported mattress, only to find out that they sold beds ONLY..... The reason I stressed on the word only is because you had to purchase the mattress elsewhere. You could understand that!!!!! When I was informed of this the next question in mind was, where was Mattressmate located? But I knew better than to ask. To me it made no sense to sell a bed without providing the buyer with the option to purchase a mattress. In the same light, it made no sense for a store to sell an electronic appliance without a plug. And to make matters worst at no point was I informed that the said appliance was sold minus plug and it would have been in my best interest to purchase one at the same time. Did they think I manufacture plugs in my spare time????????????? STEUPS

I walk back in the direction of the installation men and ask, "how the hell can they sell machines without plugs, that makes no damn sense." He responded with a smile. So now we have oversized machine, in its correct place, however no vent for the dryer and more important, no plug. At this point, I simply enquired as to whether there were any other parts missing and at the same time, begin to open the doors to see whether the parts inside were included. Because I was not in the mood for any further surprises. Thankfully everything else was in place. So we made arrangements for the vent and plug to be purchased, so that the installation could be completed by the end of the day. Because I was determined to start washing within the confines of my own apartment.

At the end of the evening all ended well, as the machine and dryer combo was successfully installed and today I can report that it was put to the test and passed. They are both working quite well.

In true form to the ole saying, "when the Lord cannot come he sends a man"..... In this instance he sent two and boy did they work a miracle, to which I am eternally grateful....

Old Havana – Habana Vieja (by Beenie Girl)

I have taken a few trips to Old Havana since I have been here and it is so charming! Old Havana contains the main area of the original city of Havana. The positions of the original Havana city walls are the modern boundary area of the Old Havana.

Sites and sounds

The city was built in baroque and neoclassic style. Street after street is lined with wonderful colonial style buildings. Many buildings had fallen in ruin, but a number of them have been restored or are being restored. Old Havana was also made a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1982. I lament the condition of some of these buildings and stand in awe at the magnificent condition of many others. It makes me think, what a wonder Old Havana would be if Cuba had the access to construction materials that many other countries (including mine) take for granted. I took so many pictures of the buildings and other monuments, I need to go back and take some more, because some of them are just absolutely beautiful. But then again I love old buildings like this; it may not be everyone’s kettle of fish.

While walking through the squares and narrow cobble-stoned streets of old Havana and soaking up the sights, I hear music. In Cuba, the melodic strains of music are constantly in the air and Old Havana is no different. Music is always playing somewhere – a small band, a solitary guitar player, a group of singers, someone’s radio blasting loudly. It’s like a movie with the soundtrack in the background.

So, in the spirit of creating a colonial atmosphere, there are people giving horse carriage rides around the city. Now everyone knows I love horses. Ask Sylph and my boy in Caracas, whenever there was presentation of credentials back home, I am most present – not to see which country is presenting, but to feast my eyes on the policemen on horseback! No, that didn’t come out right, maybe I should say – to feast my eyes on the horses the policemen are riding. (ok, better) So these people come offering us a horse carriage ride and somehow I cannot help but be distracted by, how can I say this like a diplomat, distracted by the means which they are utilizing to prevent the deposit of horse excreta throughout the city. These people have a crocus bag strategically tied in a convenient area between the carriage and the horse to catch droppings as the horsies clip-clop-clip-clop around the city. I find it ingenious and funny enough to take a picture! Hehehe I know I am idle, right?

Adventures in China Town

Yes you read right, Cuba has a China Town too. I was like no man, allyuh jokin, but yep it’s true!

I went and I ate in one of the restaurants and I didn’t get sick next day which is a good sign, right? LOL The food was tasty and my food was nice and hot, especially since I had to make them do over my order (without the cheese like I ordered *rolls eyes*) But you know what I saw in China Town (and this will make you laugh Rosel) A BOOTLEG DVD VENDOR. I felt like I was on Independence Square man. I was dying to take a pic, but the man look at me with such fright I say poor man musbe think I going to sell him out to the police, so I spared him. LOL 

This place is downright interesting. Trust me I walked the equivalent of 6 miles that day in old Havana (yes I checked the pedometer on my cell phone) and it was hot and I was still smiling at the end of the day and we all know how I hate walking. Trust me this blog has a part two because even as I type I realize there is sooo much more I need to talk about!

Gurara Falls (by Sylph)

One Sunday, on the recommendation of the High Commissioner, some of the members of staff at the mission made a trip to Gurara Falls. It was a beautiful day, a sunny day, a picture perfect day for venturing out into the great outdoors. Not too much dust or heat to make the outdoors unbearable. This trip was my mothers first venture outside of the city and at that time in her mind, Nigeria was wonderful, she felt right at home in this country. I was very certain that we lived in two different places, because apart from the tropical climate and vegetation, I most certainly did not feel at home in this place. But she seemed to be quite happy and contented, so I was happy for her.

So we pack up the vehicles and we were off to the falls. We were informed that it was approximately an hour and half hours drive, so we made ourselves quite comfortable to taken in scenery along the way. One thing I have noticed since I am in Nigeria is that life within the city limits is clean-cut, polished and well organised. However, it is no comparison to life outside of the city, where the average Nigerian lives and struggles for their daily existence. So we drive and drive and drive some more and as soon as you leave the city limits you become aware.

For one, within the city, the use of okadas as a means of public transport is prohibited. However, as soon as you leave the city you have to dodge between them, because they are the most affordable and convenient modes of transport around. Secondly, the quality of the streets begin to deteriorate. Within the city all the streets, be it highway, commercial or residential areas, all streets are paved. However, as one proceeds outside of the city you begin to realise that only main streets are paved and not frequently maintained. But that's alright, because I am from Trinidad, where that is the norm. However, if you for some reason venture off onto the side streets, or into residential areas, you may think that asphalt is a scarce commodity, because the composition of those streets are just red dirt, with a hint of garbage.

So we drive and drive and drive some more, dodging the occasional okada and going around the one or two potholes, looking on at the herds of goat and cattle along the way and the vendors as they hustle their trade and then out of no where, I heard my mother ask "is this a market????" And I sat there wondering, is she going MADDD!!!!! Because I have seen sights like this before and I was fully aware that we were no where close to a market, we were simply passing through one of the villages. And right there and then, it dawned on me that this was her first time outside of the city. All she was accustomed to was the nicely paved streets and tall walls, protecting the well designed and constructed homes, with the boys quarters attached and the well manicured yards, with gatemen sitting in the booths out front. This was her first time being exposed to okadas and mud brick homes with thatch roof tops and clusters of make shift accommodation, along the busy roadside.

So I responded to her, "no mom, this is not a market, this is life in the village." All of a sudden the nice cool Sunday afternoon drive, which was filled with chatter and laughter, begun to sound like a bus on its way to a seven churches pilgrimage. No lie.... It was so sudden I could not help but laugh. The woman begun to pray and pray her little heart out for the village people of Nigeria. I was ROLLIN...... Now to be honest it really was not a laughing matter, I would be the first to admit. But this was the same woman just five minutes before was making jokes and laughing harder than everyone in the vehicle. Talking about how wonderful Nigeria was and her views of the country..... That same woman now had the facial expression of a death in her family and was offering more prays than at Sunday mass. It was too funny....... For the rest of the journey to the falls we sat in silence, me with my mp3 player on, with murmur of the occasional prays in the background.

Gurara Falls though was a sight to behold. Its source is said to be River Niger, the third longest river in Africa. We spent a lovely afternoon, picnicking on it banks and being thankful for all the great blessings that have come our way in life.

Lets Celebrate Life (by Sylph)

"Wake up everyday and give Thanks for Life, Thanks for Life, Thanks for Life

And never you forget your Sacrifice, Sacrifice, Sacrifice"

(We Will Live - by Machel Montano)

Today I embark on a new journey. A journey, which I am almost certain will bring me closer to finding my true purpose in Life. A journey, which will provide me with a new and enlightening perspectives on life and one which will be Celebrated, every step along the way. You may be now wondering what sort of journey I might be embarking on? Well let me tell you - its the Journey of Life and Celebration.

If its one thing that I have learnt from my time in Nigeria is that Life is a Celebration. Nigerians LOVE to Celebrate Life and that is no exaggeration. Birthday, Anniversary, Graduation, Promotion, Marriage, even in death, life is celebrated in this country, and rightfully so..... You would open the daily newspaper and see fully page, coloured ads announcing the celebration of some aspect of someones life.... Every day in every newspaper, there are pages and pages of announcements wishing persons HAPPY BIRTHDAY, or congratulations on a new appointment, or marriage, or announcements of a Going Home Celebration (ah funeral), or ads in remembrance of someones life. Not a day goes by without you seeing one or two of those ads. Its amazing to me, because where I come from a full page, coloured ads is reserved for big businesses, because that shit is EXPENSIVE. One would think that they are mighty inexpensive here though, considering the amount one would see on a daily basis... But to the average Nigerian its simply a symbol of a life well lived and worth celebrating...... Because in this thing call life there are so many detractors and unfortunately many of us, fall victim to them along the way.

In many parts of the world, life is a struggle and in a country like Nigeria where the average life expectancy is 47 years and access to basic resources are fairly limited, one can understand why great importance is placed on achievement and celebration. In life, we must always remember those who are less fortunate and those who were unable to attain the level of achievement or even the age that we have..... At the same time we should also try not to be envious of those that have attained, because we do not know what that attainment entails, or what is in store for us down the road.

So we got to be thankful for all that we have, what ever little it might be and we really should celebrate, even in times of adversity and recession. Because strangely enough, I have realised that poverty and want, have a way of bringing out creativity in people. A creativity that they did not even know exist. But this all depends on the lens through which we view our life circumstances. For instance, if we get up in the morning and our car refuses to work and we are forced to travel to work or worst case unable to make it to work that day, most of us might be damn upset. But think how thankful those people who suffered that same faith on that dreaded Tuesday morning of September 11th, 2001 feel. I am certain many of them were mighty upset when they went outside to find their back tire flat, or their radiator leaking, but today in hind-sight they are giving praises to a higher being and celebrating this thing called life. Because it is worth celebrating, but unfortunately most of us wait until something tragic happens for us to realise.

I call on you today, to stop waiting and join in on the celebration, because the champagne is popped and the music is playing, so lets Celebrate LIFE......

Ordinary World (Part 2) (by Beenie Girl)

“Every world, is my world... I will learn to survive
Any world, is my world ... I will learn to survive” (Ordinary World – Duran Duran)


Like I said before, some things in this place seem so foreign to me and yet others seem quite normal. But there are some things that may seem completely ordinary to the average Cuban which are so foreign to me. Let's look at some more of the peculiar things I have seen or have found out so far:


One day my friend Sylph and I were talking about rules we had when we were growing up. Rules which NEVER made ANY sense to us at the time. When I was little I had no idea if anyone else had these rules so I was completely shocked to hear she had some of the same rules I had! Maybe it was just a normal part of growing up Trinidad and Tobago in the 80's! Maybe you can relate to not being able to play with the "good toys" you got for Christmas because after New Years Day they got "put away". You all excited about your brand new tea set, or a nice new Cindy doll (remember those?) only to see it put up? What was up with that? Well if you think childhood had rules, you need to come to Cuba LOL Somehow I learn a new rule regarding something everyday. And you know when I ask how do you people know this? Is this written in a law book somewhere? A stone tablet even? Many times no one can seem to tell me, but everyone just seems to know the particular rule for that particular situation and they obey it too! For instance, my mom walked over to my office to stretch her legs a bit from the hotel, so when she was leaving to walk back to the hotel she grabbed a few of our newspapers which came in the bag to go home read and catch up on the local happenings. So she had them in her hand and was about to walk out the door when one of our local staff runs up to us “Permiso!” with a look of horror on her face! “Momentito Senora, You cannot walk outside with those newspapers, you have to place them in a bag.” Then she gives my mom a black plastic bag to hide the newspapers in. So of course now my interest is peaked. “Why pray tell can’t she walk with the newspapers outside?” I ask foolishly. “No no that is a rule here, you cannot walk with the newspapers or books outside” There was that word again – rule. Of course I had to ask why and where is this rule written. I am YET to find this so-called rule in writing but I have not given up yet LOL
Now I know allyuh waitin fuh me to compare this to Trinidad and Tobago, but trust me I'm not keen to! LOL To be honest I think the only rule we have home is break the rules. Especially if it appears to be a kind of unwritten rule? Well it might as well not exist. I feel jus now to make people do the right thing home they will have to do signs in opposite to what you want in order to get people to conform – here are some nice ones the government can borrow from me - (dump garbage here) (speed limit 200) (park at this bus stop) and my personal favourite (double parking allowed mon-sat)

Well I am not an expert on communism but I do have some idea and I am reading some stuff these days, but from my limited knowledge of communism and its efforts to create an egalitarian, classless society I can see why there is a limit on most buying and spending here. A quota for everything from how much toilet paper you can buy each month to how many electronic items you can buy each year. In a sense it is great because it gives almost everyone a chance to get to buy from the choice of goods available. I dunno, I just say thank God I was not born here, not with my shopping genes! You know sometimes I take for granted the ability to buy whatever I can afford home and not have it controlled in anyway (expect by how much money I have of course) so I am not used to living with quotas. Look when I was shopping to move here I think I bought ALL the conditioner on Charlotte Street. Really I think I did!

Yuh know something? All this talk about rules and quotas make me think about law enforcement, and honestly I think while I am in Cuba I am going to embark on an experiement – I am yet to see a FAT police officer or a BIG BELLY police officer. I know there must be one out there somewhere, but I just can’t seem to find them! In fact, I not goin to lie, Cuba has some hot police dudes, no for real, I need to take some pics. But on the real, I know I have not been outside of Havana as yet but I refuse to believe all the policemen here are slim and fit. Maybe I am so used to seeing ours in their grey shirts with the buttons struuuugggling to stay closed over their beer belly that it stood out to me how slim the ones here are? But don't worry I am going to find one, you wait and see!

All in all despite the adjustments, I am learning to survive. This place is interesting and actually quite entertaining too.

I Remember ( by Beenie Girl)

I know I haven’t been blogging for a little while, so this is my first one for 2009. You know usually at the start of a new year most people are pensive, introspective, reflective and many other ‘ives’. For me, when a new year starts it plagues me with memories of people I have lost - of two people in particular - and it usually makes the start of the year bittersweet for me. I rang in the New Year by myself this year and I think it made it a little bit more difficult since I did not have much to distract my brain from these troublesome memories. The song says memories don’t leave like people do, and it is so true. Sometimes I feel like it would be easier if I didn’t remember; if I could somehow blank out of my brain the entire event. I just wish that old acquaintance could be forgot, and never brought to mind. But you know it’s funny … why is it that we can never seem to forget the things we really want to. And yet the things we should remember we tend to forget? That’s the thing about memories, you don’t have a remote control for them. It was a struggle to even write this blog because, even as I wrote, memories were pressing the play button all the time in my head, and in my head playing over and over my ultimate feeling sad song “I remember when my heart broke … I remember when I said I hated you … so saaad and lonely.” But you know even while I was rolling around in my big ‘sad puddle’, making myself a little bit more comfortable, I read a lesson in my devotional yesterday entitled “When things go bad.” It encouraged me to strengthen myself in the Lord when I am feeling discouraged, sad, depressed by doing two things:
1. Remember the good things God has done in the past.
2. Remember what God has promised to do in the future.

There was that word again REMEMBER.

Ok I think I get it now, I am trying to forget, when I should be trying to remember … Remember that although 2008 was such a rough year in many respects, some parts of the year I wish I could just erase, but there we sooo many good times as well. Remember that while I have lost loved ones there are those who are still with me who I can love and appreciate now. Remember that God is always able and He is always there.

Dealing with the Reality thats ME (by Sylph)

Since I received my letter of transfer, my life spiralled into a state of confusion, as a very big part of me wanted to turn it down, while a thinny whinny part was encouraging me to embrace the new experience, things can alone go up hill from there. Well, as we are all know, I embraced and I am still embracing, however during this embrace there has been a silent struggle to find my own, as well as my true passion in life and more importantly the reason I was sent to Nigeria.

The last two months of 2008 was a eye-opener and a test of time. One in which I struggled to comes to terms with my new reality, struggled to come to terms with the time difference, with the difference in culture, at time the language barrier, my true purpose in life, why I was in Nigeria...... The struggle was on..... But slowly I have come to realise that during the course of my never ending struggles, my eyes were becoming wide open to the harsh reality of my life.

A life, which to some might be well accomplished, to me seemed under-utilised and unfulfilled. At times I almost felt as though I was living someone else's dreams and looking on through a glass window. But gradually I have come to realise and accept that everything in life happens for a reason and nothing takes place before its time. I suffer from a clear case of impatience, have always had. So all through my life I was determined to make things happen. I was never the type to sit around a wait or worst yet to ask for assistance. I believed in getting things done and getting it done my way. But now that I am thrown into a situation where I am often reliant on others, whether it be for information, guidance or direction and I find myself becoming increasingly withdrawn. I have withdrawn into my little cocoon, where very few persons know how to reach me. A cocoon where I feel safe and I am generally unresponsive, where no questions are asked and I am in control my destination. However, its that very place that no one understands.... But in that place I struggle to find ME..... Because right now I am most certainly lost, struggling to find my way and deal with the reality that's ME.....

WELCOME 2009 - Lets join in the fight against depression (by Sylph)

Its a new year and I am in a new country, so its most certainly a time for new beginnings, however as I venture along the path of new adventures, I cannot help but reflect on some of the old ones that I have endeavoured on. Adventures that would remain with me for a lifetime and some that will soon be forgotten. One such adventure was the year I wondered into St. Benedict's to pursue A-Levels.... I must say that was certainly an ADVENTURE, and one that would live on with me throughout the years. Because something about that place was like no other and the bonds and friendships that were created, was cemented into our being. "Oh blessed by God St. Benedict, let sadness not our hearts afflict". Any true Benedict's boy will know the rest or at least the last verse.

At that institution I learnt the meaning of true friendship. We stood by each other through thick and thin. Opening up our lives, our homes, our families, our hearts to the ones we truly considered. When one went down, we all went down. Oh, at least so we thought, until that one bleak Friday morning, when depression came knocking and no one was around to talk our fallen solider down. To lend him that love and support that we had built up among us and provided him with the comfort and hope that his heart desired. On that day, sadness afflicted his heart and one can only assume that his heart could not bear anymore, so he allowed depression to take him away.

Memories of that day run vividly through my mind from time to time, but I have found more so now. Maybe because I am away from home and have the time to pay closer attention to persons in my life and have come to realise that a number of these persons struggle with this thing called depression. Depression to some might just be a sad feeling that comes over them from time to time, however to others its their way of life. Its their reality, their struggle, their everyday state of mind. It is the only way they know and sadly on the rare occasion that they may feel happiness or joy, they often think that something might be wrong, because that is a state that they cannot relate to. I am certain all of us might have had a family member or friend who struggle with this thing we call depression. Unfortunately so many of them go unnoticed and unnoticed until the very end. No one knew my friend suffered from depression, he was the life of the party. He was the instigator of most activities, the backbone of the crew. The one most people went to in their times of trouble, however he reached out to no one in his time of need.

Today, just like that gloomy Friday, I struggle.... I struggle to truly understand this thing called depression and to identify a way to truly lend support to persons who suffer from this affliction. Because depression is real and has been silently afflicting the hearts of many. It has been afflicting the hearts of our loved ones, and family members, and friends, and co-workers, and church members, and neighbours, and journalists, and politicians, and teachers, and nephews, and nieces..... It has been afflicting and afflicting and afflicting..... And so many times this affliction goes unnoticed, until it is too late.

This year, I would like to join in the fight against depression and pay closer attention to those afflicted. Because I remember the emptiness that was felt on that Friday and the void that was left. We were all there wondering why didn't he reach out and provided us with an opportunity to share in his affliction and uplift his heart. It was not meant to be..... But today, there are thousands of persons fighting the good fight and struggling to shake off this affliction. So I call on you to lend a hand and help in this fight, because trust me when I say, the battle is on. As I write to you, I think of my loved ones who are fighting the good fight and I pray for the sustenance to provide them with the support they require. For I was once deprived of the opportunity to provide that support, however, not even the distance will deprive me such an opportunity again.

Let our hearts not be afflicted by the sadness of this world and may we fight this thing called depression, because it is a reality that is silently attacking many of our loved ones.

Nihil Omnino Christo - lets place 'Christ Above All' in this battle

May your soul forever rest in peace my fallen solider. Your memories will live on forever....