POSTcards from Around the World

Departure Date? (by Beenie Girl)

2009-02-23T13:15:00.009-04:00

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)

2009-02-07T05:17:00.004-04:00

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)

2009-02-04T05:22:00.007-04:00

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)

2009-02-02T05:58:00.003-04:00

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)

2009-01-19T13:10:00.015-04:00

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 walkin 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 deduce what I was saying and left speedily!

So we 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 lookin 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

2009-01-17T08:24:00.004-04:00

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)

2009-01-15T17:24:00.024-04:00

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 goin to sell he out, 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)

2009-01-12T13:47:00.011-04:00

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)

2009-01-11T08:58:00.004-04:00

"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)

2009-01-09T01:28:00.006-04:00

“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)

2009-01-05T13:10:00.003-04:00

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)

2009-01-05T04:45:00.006-04:00

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)

2009-01-04T06:58:00.004-04:00

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....

Farewell to 2008 (by Sylph)

2008-12-31T08:58:00.003-04:00

We have successfully made it to the end of another year and what a year it was. A year filled of memories, new beginnings, welcome and unwelcomed adventures, the promise of hope and challenges that would have only made us stronger. 2008 was definitely a year to remember. A year in which the first black President was elected in the USA and the long awaited water taxis, graced our shores and made its maiden voyage to San Fernando. This has certainly been a year for new beginnings.

A year that started off somewhat quiet and almost unsuspect, ended up being life transforming, shaking up lives throughout the world. This transformation was far reaching and could be felt in almost every aspect of human life. From the severe change in the weather patterns, resulting in an overly active hurricane season, to the worldwide financial and economic crisis and the drastic fall in oil prices. But despite it all we plod on, determined to succeed. Because in this life, survival is not just for the fit, but for those that endureth to the end.

As we come to the end of the year and reflect on the all that 2008 have brought to and in some instances taken from us, I hope we take an opportunity to truly understand and appreciate this thing we call life and the things that matter to us. I say this because at the start of 2008 even though I had an appreciation for life, I was not truly appreciative or even cognisant of all of the things that really mattered to me. You see, I had fallen into the trap called comfort zone, where everything seemed to be alright and I had little worry in the world. For me most things were readily accessible and I lived a simply life and enjoyed the simply pleasures that it afforded me. Then things suddenly changed and what was previously a simply pleasure in life became a non- existent entity and I was left with an emptiness that could not be filled by my new reality. But whenever one is faced with adversity, innovation is always a positive remedy. And in life one must always remember that we are graced with the ability to choose, so we should always choose wisely. For with every decision we take there is always a repercussion and the true test of a good decision maker is their ability to withstand the repercussions.

So now I stand firmly by my decision to travel to Nigeria, for it has taught me to be far more appreciative in life and to acknowledge and accept my new reality for what it is. Even though that reality might be harsh and brutish at times, it is the reality that has already begun to shape what lies ahead. And I most certainly look forward to the future and all that it has in store. As I am certain that it will provide me with new options and opportunities to 'Live the Life' that I am destined for. Farewell to 2008 and the good times and adversities that it might have brought my way.

My New Best Friend - SKYPE (by Slyph)

2008-12-29T16:55:00.008-04:00

When I first arrived in Nigeria the available modes of communication was nothing short of LIMITED. All that was available to me was the Internet, so I had to make the best us of it. And to be honest that came with its challenges, because within the first month, the number of times the internet service failed to work were too numerous to mention. My head still hurts thinking about it. Every other day I was running about the office asking for a number to call or someone to shoot because the service was just not working. The first month was trying times. We suffered days when the service simply would not work between the hours of 9am-5pm. Now one would think that those hours would have been working hours, but not for Mr. Internet. He would stroll into action anytime after 5pm, sometimes around 6pm if he was in the mood and some days he just did not even bother and would be a no show. What was even more disturbing to me, was that no one else at the mission seemed to notice or was even affected by the constant absense of the Internet and that was honestly confusing to me. I was running around like a fish out of water and everyone else was wondering what was I referring to. How do they get by, how do they exist like this??? Needless to say, as soon as I found out who the culprit was to address my Internet whoos, the two of us became immediate best friends. His number is now on my speed dial and to date we have not had a problem. I have even got the mission to upgrade to wireless. So now I am surfing the net in comfort, anywhere in the building.

But if one ever finds themselves in a situation where the Internet is their only means of communication and they are millions of miles away from home, family, friends, dog, cat and the like. I have no word of advise and trust me when I say this, because this service has been put to the test and it has passed on each and every occasion. That word and let this be the word of the day, is SKYPE...... Skype has been the saving grace of my posting experience to be honest. Because I can assure you many days the only reason I get out of bed was to communicate with loved ones via Skype to Skype Internet calls. It is the BOMB.... Better than slice bread. My world became a better place the day I discovered Skype and I tell you no lie.

Now prior to my departure from Trinidad, I had heard about Skype and that it offered the option of making free calls via the internet, however, I was in my comfort zone and everyone I needed to communicate with was at my figure tips. So I was not interested in the hype about Skype. I could not even spell the word, S-K-H-P-E. What were they referring too??? But take a girl out her comfort zone and the mad confusion begins. And she starts to scramble and search for anything that would provide her with some resemblance of normalcy in her life. That search led to SKYPE..... OH HAPPY DAY, OH HAPPY DAY and what a happy day it was.

For those of you who do not know, Skype is an Internet service that provides free Skype to Skype Internet phone calls, calls to landlines and other services are provided at a fee. They also provide a range of other services such as Instant messaging and Conference calls, however I am not trying to do a Skype Promo, so you can check out the website for further details. LOL.....

All you need to get started is a computer, preferable one outfitted with a webcam and micro phone to allow for video calls (most recommended, my favourite, yummy), Internet of course (preferably high speed, to ensure high quality reception) and to download Skype, which is free of charge. And you are OFF..... All set and ready to communicate and I assure you, there will be no regrets.

I downloaded Skype within days of my arrival in Nigeria and I have been hooked from day one. Hence my confusion in the first month when the internet simply failed to work, because a girl needs to communicate.

But now with a less interrupted Internet supply I can safely say that there is no better way to stay in touch with friends and loved ones than via Skype. It is economical, cost effective and readily available, so what more can a girl ask for when millions of miles away. Give it a try, I can guarantee you would not be disappointed.

Don't dis the hype about SKYPE....

Tighten Your Belts and Party Promotions (by Sylph)

2008-12-29T06:16:00.005-04:00

Yesterday I rolled out of bed a bit later than usual, but I still managed to maintain my usual routine, which included reading the Trinidad and Tobago daily newspapers. But on this occasion I became a little disturbed by an article, which discussed the impact the Prime Minister's recent call for citizens to 'tighten their belts' might have on the upcoming Carnival 2k9 celebrations. In this article, one of Trinidad's longstanding party promoters and I say that because he has been standing for as long as I have been around, was highly upset by the Prime Minister's call, because in his mind Trinidad and Tobago was NOT experiencing a recession. And in light of such, he described the PM's comments as untimely as it posed a major threat to the profitability of Carnival 2k9. Or does it really?????

Now I ask this question because in recent times, carnival and carnival associated events have become increasingly EXPENSIVE and EXCLUSIVE. Gone are the days of Jab-Jab and ole mas and chipping down the road to steelband music and live brass bands. Or a backyard carnival fete or blocko. Welcome to the new dispensation of 5,000 strong masqueraders, gyrating to soca music from large DJ trucks, in all inclusive bands, where you are provided with everything under the sun, including a wee-wee truck, so now you never have to leave your band. In the same vein, most carnival events have now opted to become all inclusive, or offer an all inclusive section, where patrons pay one fixed price, which includes everything one can desire, from food and drinks, to memorabilia items. But by so doing each year there is a significant increase attached to the price tag. And who bears this increase???? The patrons of course.

Carnival whose beginnings stemmed from the former slaves mimicking the behaviour of the french aristocracy and traditionally a 'grass-roots' celebration, has today turned into a multi-million dollar industry, almost out of pockets-reach of the grassroot society, whose ancestors were the ones that shaped the true traditions of Trinidad CARNIVAL..... The growth of the industry is most certainly welcomed, but one has to wonder if this growth is at the expensive of the very society that shaped it.

Carnival events in Trinidad and Tobago have grown from strenght to strength and the range of events now being offered have also increased. Such events begin from as early as Boxing Day, December 26th each year and run until Ash Wednesday. One can be certain to find something to do everyday during the carnival season. The only question would be whether one can afford such events.

At no time have I heard a promoter or bandleader discuss that the recent fall in carnival arrivals was as a result of the steady increase in the cost of carnival events and the price of costumes. Added to which the increasing cost of fuel have made air travel quite expensive. I however, know quite a number of persons that had to turn down carnival 2k8 because of these factors.... I do admit that the crime situation in the country has been quite alarming and if improved will be an added incentive to attract visitors to our shores. But the upsurge in crime has been little disincentive to visitor arrival as compared to the affordability of events.

The issue that stood out for me in yesterday's article though was the promoter's attempt to imply that the Prime Minister's call for conservative spending, in a time when not only Trinidad and Tobago, because from reports, all countries in the world will be either directly or indirectly affected by the global financial crisis, was unnecessary. How can this be??? How can any right-thinking citizen, knowing all that is going on in the world today, financially and otherwise, think that a call for citizens to reduce spending is untimely? How can any citizen in a time when commodities prices and the rate of inflation is so high, be disgruntled by a call to tighten ones belt? Would he have preferred for this call to come after the IMF is called in to restructure the economies expenditure, as was done in the 1980's? I most certainly pray that the country does not have to resort to such measures. I am thankful however that from all reports, citizens have responded to the Prime Minister's call, as retailers have all noted a reduction in overall spending and the nations banks have reported an increasing in savings and a reducing demand for loans. I was also pleased to note that at the beginning of December the Central Bank announced a decline in the rate of inflation, which had been on a steady rise for all of 2008.

So I ask, is this displeasure with the Prime Minister's call stemming from a strong background in global finance, so the promoter was most certain that the recession would not affect our economy? An economy whose main revenue earner so happens to be oil and gas. The same oil that is selling at a record low price. Or is this a case of a promoter who lacks a little vision to restructure his affairs to target a new market for the upcoming season?

I am one person that is thankful for the Prime Minister's call and I most certainly believe that the Trinidad and Tobago economy needed it at this time. I am also highly certain that Carnival 2k9 will be a success despite the call to tighten our belts. Because if is one thing trinis love to do is fete and have a good time. Despite this however, I can assure you that consumers are now becoming more wise and have started to demand greater value for their dollar.

So rather than wine and complain about what has already been done (or announced, by the PM), I think promoters should now review their approach to marketing their events. Because of rising crime levels and road fatalities many persons are now opting to party closer to home, however, for some that might not be an option. So rather than promoting four or five major fetes in the traditional venues, which normally lead to patrons standing in hours of traffic to get to and from the event and uncertainty as to whether their vehicles will be safe while at the event, maybe promoters can begin to explore the option of having smaller, more secured events in non-traditional areas, taking the event closer to the targeted patron. This way patrons will travel shorter distances from home and will get away from the traffic and might reduce the occurrence of road fatalities.

Remember when fetes, such as Block 5, St. Joseph Village and Valasyn were popular..... You did not have to go far away from home, or worry about the safety of your vehicle and you were guaranteed to have a good time.

I am certain that once promoters re-evaluate the true factors affecting their events they can come up with innovative ways to attract patrons. And at the end of the day, both promoter and patron will be happy.

Christmas In Abuja (by Slyph)

2008-12-26T16:53:00.006-04:00

I know most people were worried and I myself was somewhat worried, as to how Christmas Day might have turned out for mom and I, but to my great surprise we both had a lovely day.

Christmas in Nigeria was most certainly different. I cannot speak as to how Nigerians celebrate the holiday, however I can provide an insight as to how a true trini celebrates Christmas.

I spent most of Christmas Eve online chatting with friends, exchanging Christmas greetings and good wishes to one and all. At 7:30pm I had the privilidge of wishing my girl in Delhi, Merry Christmas, because based on our geographical dispersement, she was the first in the batch to welcome the day. I would be the second, however as the golden hour rolled around I swiftly abandoned my friends, switched off my laptop and jumped straight into bed, almost as though I was 6 years old and my mother had chased me to bed before santa's arrival. I rolled out of bed around mid-morning and to be honest the day started off bleak, PRETTY DAMN BLEAK.... Because all that was going through my head was thoughts of home and my family and friends, and freshly baked bread and ham, and turkey and sorrel and ginger beer, and pastelles, and black cake, and punch-a-creme, and parang and the gifts and gift giving, the thoughts were too many and the reality was BLEAK. Because none of the above was taking place around me. I pulled the covers up and attempted to go back to asleep. Because for sure this was a nightmare that I had rolled into. So lets try again for some sweet dreams. I toss and I turn and the sleep would not come, so I roll over again and attempt to go online to say hi to my peeps. Turn on the computer, plug in the charger, no response... Dear ole charger decides he is not in the mood to work. WHAT THE HELL!!!!! Of all the days you would decide to stage a one-man protest, you would select CHRISTMAS DAY???? Okay. In light of such, I swiftly check my email and turn off my laptop, because now I have to save up the battery power for a time when it is really needed. So I decided to attempt to fall asleep again. Pull up the covers and repeat the same process, toss and turn, toss and turn, this time placing the pillow on my head. TOSS AND TURN some more.

Eventually my cell phone rang and like magic my Christmas began. It was my nephew calling to wish me MERRY CHRISTMAS. So we spoke for a while and exchanged greetings and I complained about my charger and he advised me on how to seek redress and we spoke some more and he spoke to mom and then to me again and I complained about the charger some more, because by now you should know that my computer, coupled with the internet is my life line. The only other thing that can match up to those two right now is SKYPE. Nuff props to SKYPE..... This service has been a life saver. You will be certain to read more about it in the not to distant future..... Back to the phone call.... So we chat and chat and then I realise that he was calling via my favourite service SKYPE. So I asked, don't you have a webcam, why haven't you called via my computer???? Oh, I am not online...... The damn charger not working. So I put it on anyway.... Where there is a will, there is a way!!!!! So I hang up my cellphone and we make contact via SKYPE and we begin a video call and this is when Christmas Day came to life. Thanks to my new best friend - SKYPE, mom and I were able to share in my sister and her family Christmas morning celebrations and was right there for the exchange and unwrapping of presents. It was just wonderful. Because as a child that was the highlight of Christmas. Getting up early on Christmas morning, just before sunrise to open presents as a family, to ensure that all the wrappings were out before the garbage truck passed. LOL..... And this would be followed by family breakfast. There was no garbage truck to run down this Christmas, however sharing the moment with my sister and her family was definitely worth the while. And the icing on the cake was that the charger started to work, just as the battery power was about to run out on our conversation. So we were back in business.

After sharing that christmas moment, I proceeded to make all of my necessary phone calls and emails, while mom prepared lunch. Thankfully I was able to reach all of my family and loved ones, so my mind was at ease, we were all having a MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Mom and I shared a pleasant Christmas lunch with one of the locally recruited staff at the mission and she shared with us some of the christmas traditions in Nigeria. All in all, we had a wonderful day. We spent the rest of the afternoon online, mom listening to hear favorite trini radio station WACK 90.1 FM and I stayed in touch with family and friends. It was definitely a special day.

Christmas is about bringing new hope to life and this year hope was most certainly needed to come alive. And it did.....

May the miracle of the first Christmas always fill your heart with joy. Merry Christmas to one and all.

My Failed Attempt to Travel to Ghana

2008-12-22T17:00:00.004-04:00

Last week I remember giving a friend advise to avoid getting oneself in situations where they might feel as though their back is against a wall. In life one must always have OPTIONS or an escape route. LOL!!!! Well this weekend I found myself in one of those situations, but thankfully logic prevailed and an escape route was found.

Since I arrived in Abuja, I was informed that some of the members of staff wanted to travel to Ghana for Christmas. Okay, not a problem.... In time, I began singing the same song that we were traveling to Ghana for the christmas holidays. So slowly, we began putting things in place. At first I was uncertain as to how we were going to carry out this plan, because from time to time the plans seemed to changed. And I am new to Nigeria, so I was not in a position to take charge of the planning process, because I had no idea what the planning would entail.

First item on the agenda was the issue of transportation. How are we getting to Ghana???? I was informed that the cost of air travel was too expensive and as a result was not a feasible option. Okay, so what were our other options???? We can travel via road.... Not a problem... In whose vehicle, who will be the driver? I was informed that one of the mission's drivers was from Ghana and he was heading home for christmas, as his daughter was getting married. Very good... All we need to do is find a vehicle and we are off.... or so I thought...

Coming from a different type of society where there are relatively easier access to services and various modes of transport, I suggested that we explored the option of renting a vehicle, because we already had a driver for the trip. So we begun to ask whether or not there we vehicle rental services in Nigeria. The response came back in the affirmative. How much will this cost??? We contacted the car rental company and a representative came over to our office to explain the services they offer. Now, when I suggested renting a vehicle all I was referring to was, contact a car rental company, find out the cost and once it was affordable, we rent a vehicle for our use, for the duration of our stay in Ghana and on our return, the vehicle is returned to the company. Seems simple enough to me......

The representative comes over and attempts to break down the services the company offers and the cost. However, there is a stark difference between the service we had in mind and what was being offered to us. The main difference was that the vehicle was being rented with a driver. Now if you do recall, I did mention that we already had a driver and if it was a driver we required, we would have called a taxi service.... What we were looking for was a vehicle for RENT or LET (local slang for renting). So the representative from the rental company is sitting in our office outlining what the service will entail and the cost attached. There was a flat cost for the rental of the vehicle, however, in addition to the rental cost, there was also a stipend for the driver, plus seeing that we had plan to travel outside of Nigeria, there was also the cost of accommodation and meals for the driver, which we did not want or request. So we informed the kind representative that we already had a competent driver and did not require one from the company and we were informed that vehicles were rented with driver, take it to leave it. So you don't have to ask, that option was out the door.

Option number two..... The ABC Bus company....

We then decided to explore the option of taking a bus to Ghana. We go down to the bus company and received information on the cost and duration of the trip, as well as the date to return and make the necessary booking and payment for the trip. None of us however, have ever travelled via bus in Nigeria, so their was an element of uncertainty as to the reliability of the service.

We continue to make the necessary arrangements, for example obtaining the necessary entry visas. In order to travel to Ghana by road, one has to enter two countries, Benin and Togo. So in addition to getting entry visas for Ghana, we also had to apply for visas for those two countries. So visas we obtained.

Accomodation. For this we contacted our Honorary Consul in Ghana and requested his assistance in arranging appropriate accomodation for our stay. This item was taken cared of without a glitch. So we had a place to stay. However, there was still an element of gloom as to the issue of transportation. How were we getting to Ghana????

Now in order to make the trip via road to Ghana, we would have to travel from Abuja to Lagos, which we were advised was seven hours away. On arrival in Lagos we would spend the night and depart for Ghana early the following morning. The drive from Lagos to Ghana was estimated to be approximately five hours. Okay, sounds long and tedious, but do-able, so lets give it a try. Are we really going to chance traveling via bus, which is something we have never done? Our driver insist that he was driving himself to Ghana in his vehicle, so whatever mode of transportation we selected he would meet us on our arrival in Ghana.

Now all along the planning stages, I was very excited and eager to travel to Ghana, as everyone has indicated that Ghana was very different from Nigeria and that things were more affordable. So that would give me an opportunity to shop. For that reason alone I was excited. However, for some reason three days before our scheduled departure that excitement escaped me and my mind became heavy about the trip. I began to have second thoughts and became very uncertain about the trip. And by this time our mode of transportation had changed yet again, we were now going with the driver, as we will all be together on the road and he assured that he would arrive in Lagos in a shorter time that the Bus. So why all this uncertainty all of a sudden???? Where did the excitement go??? To be honest, I cannot say, but I can assure you, it was gone, long gone. And I was left worried and pacing about, do I really want to put myself through such a long drive? There were so many elements of uncertainty and unanswered questions surrounding this trip. Why, was the only question going through my head!!!! Why? Why? Why?

We were scheduled to depart Abuja on Saturday morning at 6:30am to arrive in Ghana on Sunday afternoon. On Friday evening however, I was informed that our departure will be delayed. We will now be departing on Sunday morning. I breathe a sign of relief. Maybe this is a sign....

6:30am Sunday morning rolls along and we all jump into the vehicle and we are off to Ghana, well Lagos - where we would over night. If the journey is estimated to be seven hours we should arrived there around 2-3pm. The journey was long, real LONG and rough, very ROUGH and to add insult to injure the vehicle in which we were traveling did not have air condition. Now to be honest that was a factor we did not consider while making arrangments for the trip. However, it is something that I will never overlook while in Nigeria. We normal travel in the mission's official vehicle, which is air condition ready, so that is never an issue. So to be honest, we are never really exposed to the real elements of the road. However on this occasion with no A/C and windows down, everything from the side of the road was making its way into the vehicle. Smoke, dust, dirt, sand, flies and little insects, exhaust fumes, you name it and it was flying in on us. By the time we made it to Lagos and got out of the vehicle, we were covered in a thick layer of grime...... We were unrecognisable..... My lungs were FILLED and SCREAMING what did I do to deserve this!!!!!!!

And the best part is that the drive that was estimated as seven hours, took more like twelve hours. We left the residence prompty at 6:30 am making two rest stops and two stops to re-fuel. However, we never arrived in Lagos until minutes to seven in the evening. It took us five additional hours to get there...... My legs and butt were screaming. SCREAMING!!!!!! What did we do to deserve this!!!!!!!!! There was very little feeling in my lower region...

So we get to a little hotel and check in, but right about now the only focus is to shower and get the reminants of our days travel off of us. After showing however, reality stepped in. Am I really going to put myself through this gruesome journey again. The drive to Ghana from Lagos was estimated at five hours, however the drive from Abuja to Lagos was estimated at seven hours and look how long that took. All of the uncertainty and questions immediately returned. Why didn't I listen to the little voice of wisdom in my head and remain at home? How did I get myself involved in this? This was not my plan. Here I am going along once again, with someone else plan. And I ask myself again, WHY???? How am I to get myself out of this? Here I am, in a strange man's land, away from everything that might be familar to me, unaware of the surroundings that I am in or how to get out of. I begin to feel as though my back was against a wall...... For me that is one of the worst feelings ever, because I strongly believe that "In Life one must always have Options"....... One should always attempt to avoid situations that may limit their ability to make a decision and move on to something else. Particularly in situations that can be life changing, such as relationships, education or career. Never allow a person or thing to trap you into a situation, because later on you may just regret it. And in life we should not regret the experiences we have.

Well, after great debate and much self searching, it was clear to me that I was in a situation in which I did not want to be and had to find the closest exit. One call to the receptionist provided me with a glimmer of hope. I enquired from her what was the possibility of making flight arrangments to Abuja at the airport and she assured me that it was possible. Only then was I able to get some rest.

Early Monday morning, I had to deliver the dreaded news that I was avoiding for almost a week. However it was for the best, so it had to be said. "Mom and I will not be continuing to Ghana!!!!" There was silence, the others were shocked. But even though I knew the news would come as a surprise and might have hurt some feelings, I had to do what was most sensible for mom and I in the long run and that was to return to Abuja. So I requested to be taken to the airport so that I could attempt to make flight arrangements for our return. Now I must say that this was an extremely brave and bold move. Because I was in a strange place and so far my experience has proven that Nigeria is like no other place that I have visited, so you can never know what to expect. But I had made up my mind and I was sticking with my decision. We were heading back to Abuja and nothing was going to stop us.

So with disappointment in their voices we parted ways, as we were dropped off at the domestic airport in Lagos to make our way back to Abuja. I must say though that the process was quite smooth and happened with out a glitch. Purchasing an airline ticket to Abuja from Lagos was the easiest transaction that I have done since my arrival in Nigeria and I am not trying to be sacaristic. There was no hassle, no worry, no fuss, no fight.... I walked up to the counter, enquired when was the next available flight and the cost, paid, ticket was issued, we were directed to the check in line, we checked in, waited, boarded the flight and returned safely. And I am now able to tell the story.

So mom and I will be spending Christmas 2008 in Abuja, Nigeria and I am looking forward to it. It will be a Christmas like no other, because we are millions of miles away from both family and friends, however, its home for now and where I would prefer to be. Merry Christmas to one and all. Do have a Blessed Holiday Season.

The Indigo Dye Pit - Kano (by Sylph)

2008-12-19T07:17:00.014-04:00

Have you ever wondered where those lovely tied-died african printed fabric comes from? Well I had the pleasure of visiting an indigo dye pit in Kano, a northern Nigerian state, where the young men painstakingly prepare fabrics in an array of patterns and sizes for sale. At the dye pits we were exposed to the various processes that lead to the final product. Processes ranging from mixing the dye from all natural materials, tying the fabric, the dipping of the fabric, ironing using one of the more unique and traditional methods, which also gives the material its permanent shine and the finished product.

The area in which the dye pits were located was almost like an open yard, just off a busy street in downtown Kano. The area was busy and bustling with persons, mainly men, all engaged in different stages of the tie dye process.

We were greeted by a guide who first explained to us how the indigo dyes were prepared. In his hand he held a enamel bowl containing three smaller containers, which had the main ingredients of the indigo dye. They are indigo, ash and potassium. This combination is mixed with water in wells dug deep in the earth and left to ferment for a period of four weeks. The longer the solution ferments, the deeper the colour will be. After fermentation, the solution is ready for the dyeing process. This solution can be used for a period of one year.

Then we were shown the tying process. Where the fabric is tied tightly with thread at various points. This process acts as a retardant to the dye, prohibiting it from penetrating the tied area. On completion of the tying process the fabric is then ready to be dipped into the fermented solution. The tied fabric is hand dipped for approximately eight hours into the dying pits. So for eight hours someone sits at the edge of the pit, dipping and opening for air to enter and then dipping again until the fabric has completely absorbed the dye. The process is repeated over and over during this eight hour time frame. So he sits and dips and opens, rotating the fabric each time to ensure that it absorbs the dye. Dipping and opening, dipping and opening..... What a tedious process.

On completion of the dying process the fabric is hung out to dry under the radiant sun. When the fabric is completely dried, the thread is removed to display the wonderful patterns and designs produced by the tying and dyeing process. Then the fabric is sent to press. When we were told that we were going to the pressing room, I was mindful that their methods were extremely traditional, so I was not looking for any conventional methods, such as a Phillips Steam Iron. I was probably thinking along the lines of the traditional coat pot and iron, used back in the 50's in Trinidad. At no point could I have ever imagine what I was about to see.

We entered the little pressing room and stood in amazement, because sitting on the ground before our eyes was a room filled of young men, no more than 14 years of age, beating the fabric with HUGE pieces of Mahogany wood. YES, I said BEATING!!!!!! I was amazed. Because I really could not have anticipated what was before me. Not even if someone had told me before, would I have believed.

The room had two pieces of what looked like tree trunks lying on the ground, almost dugged into the earth and six boys, three on either side sat along side the trunks, armed with their hammers in the hand, beating the living daylights out of the fabric. A continuous beating..... They hammered and hammered away at the fabric. It was a sight to behold. Because trust me, this is something you cannot imagine. It was unbelievable, truly amazing. And what made it even more amazing was the weight if the pieces of wood. The wood was HEAVVVVYYYYYY............. We could barely lift the damn thing, far more beat anything with it. I must say those young men are strong. Damn Strong..... Because they did it with such easy, almost with smiles on their faces. It was truly an amazing sight.

We were informed that this method of ironing not only smooth the fabric, but also gave it a permanent shine. One that will last even after several washes.

After the fabric was pressed it was either packaged for sale or made into garments for sale. So on any given day at the dye pits one can find an assortment of tie dye items and garments to suit your preference.

The finished product for sale...

My mother making an attempt at the pressing process...

Why do we complain??? (by Sylph)

2008-12-18T04:09:00.007-04:00

I have come to realise that in life we take too much for granted. Nothing however, brought this point home more than coming to Nigeria.

Nigeria is a country rich of both natural resources and human capital. This country has an abundance of oil, natural gas and minerals such as coal, iron ore, lead/zinc, bitumen, talc and the list goes on and on.... Though, many of which are either unexploited or underutilised. The economy has benefited tremendously from their oil industry and they are yet to truly explore the potential of their natural gas. However, despite the abundance of resources and the availability of human capital (as the population of Nigeria is approximately 140 million), the quality of life for the average man remains relatively low.

Life in Nigeria for the average man can be described as nothing less than short and brutish and the life expectancy is relatively low. Despite all of this however, the Nigerian spirit of entrepreneurship is alive, as they are aware that they have to do what it takes to survive. That I admire about them..... All day long you will see them hustling their trade, whatever that trade might be. And I will admit, these Nigerians are rather skillful. On any given day once you venture outside your gate, within no time you will be able to find someone offering fresh fruits for sale, or peeled sugarcane (why peeled, I cannot say and its peeled and transported open to the elements, in a wheel barrow... umhhh, germs yummy), or a man carrying a sewing machines on their heads, making clinging sounds with his scissors in their hands, or shoe repair men, carrying a makeshift wooden box, filled with rubber, glue and nails, you can even find men carrying nail clippers and barbering sets, offering manicure, pedicure and haircut services. You name it and I am certain you can find it on the streets of Nigeria.

Anything old and rustic, you can find it here. Like old Singer sewing machines with the wooden encasement and cast iron stands, old books and magazines, old brands of products that were discontinued in Trinidad, like Team soft drink in the tall glass bottle and Pear Soap. Or what about a kerosene stove, which was used back in the 60's. This is the place of antiques.... Old electronics that were deemed unserviceable in other parts of the world, some how find their way here and are put into use. Nigerians are clever with their hands, so they are quick to repair and service anything. With a population of 140 million there is a market for almost anything in this country. In addition to which access to basic utilities, such as electricity, running water and waste disposal is not readily available to all. Yet still the average man gets by and he does so with very little complaints.

We recently went on a trip outside of the capital and trust me when I say, you have not seen Nigeria if you did not leave the capital, Abuja. Because the capital is relatively new and that is reflected in its lay-out, design and infrastructure. However, the average Nigerian has not even seen the capital, Abuja, so for one to get a true glimpse of life in this country, one must leave the city and venture outside to the villages and the bordering states. All I could think of while we drove was where do they get running water from????? And I am not even referring to water to bathe or wash their clothes, but more importantly, water to drink and prepare a meal. Because to me water is one of the most important and vital resources for human survival. A man can survive comfortably with out food for weeks, even months at a time, once he has a clean supply of water. However, the absence of a clean water would reduce his chances of survival. Another alarming issue which I came across on this trip was high level of pollution or rather garbage. Apparently, there is no proper waste disposal plan in this country, so you will see garbage littered everywhere. On the streets, in the markets, along the road ways, in the drains, everywhere. Garbage, garbage, everywhere. Now this is something which I noticed even within the capital, however on a smaller scale. In addition to the garbage, because of the absence of a waste disposal plan and limited water supplies, there is also the issue of human waste. People go to the bathroom to relieve themselves anywhere. So help me do this maths - limited access to water + garbage+human waste = disease. Well at least in my mind.......

The remarkable thing to me though is that the Nigerian people do not complain. At least the ones that I have encountered. Despite all of the adversities that they are affected by on a daily basis, they still manage to strive for greatness and provide for themselves and their families. At no point while I have been in Nigeria have I heard anyone complaining that the Government has not provided them with opportunity or have mismanaged the economy. At no point, have I seen young men sitting idly by blaming the Government for their misfortune, or waiting for Government handouts. Because, to be honest they know that it will never come. So they get up each day and get what is due to them. However little it might be....

Please do not get me wrong. I am not trying to imply that the Government does not have a crucial role to play in alleviating the problems that are faced in this country. For many of the problems plaguing this society can only be solved by the powers that be. However, what cannot be ignored is the self reliance of the people in making ends meet. Because, I came from society where all you hear is complaints. Complaints about the Government, about their policies and employers, about everything. You hear complaints about the sun too hot, or the rain falling too long. Or there is too much traffic to go out and the prices are too high. There are no jobs and the crime levels are on the increase. No one stops to think about the less fortunate, or that the cost of living in Trinidad, although high and can be better managed by the authorities, is still relatively cheaper than in most countries of the world. Or who are the ones that are actually breeding the criminals in the society? Maybe its the Government!!!!!!!!!!!!

Very few persons will attempt to examine the situation and realise that as a responsible citizen we too have a role to play in the development of the society. No true society is built by the sweat of the politicians alone. Where is the civil society involvement and I am not referring to the Trade Unions or one or two NGOs. When will the average Trinidadian realise that their existence is not dependent upon the Government. Can anyone tell me when?

I recently had to endure a friend complaining about the pressures of going to school overseas, in a temperate country and how fed-up she was of the sacrifice and I could not help but wonder about the millions of people who would give anything for such an opportunity. Mind you this very friend, left her job in Trinidad willingly to pursue this degree. But oh how quickly we forget and begin to complain.

I have done my fair share of complaining in the past, however I am now challenging myself to be more appreciative to what life throws my way. Because life has been good to me and has thrown quite a bit my way. So instead of complaining that the cup is half empty, I have decided to enjoy the remnants of the drink.

Who de hell is Hashimoto? (by Beenie Girl)

2008-12-15T15:17:00.002-04:00

They say everything happens for a reason . . . My girl in New Delhi is known for her CAST-IRON stomach and so when they sent her to India I was not worried for her. To date she has not, I repeat, HAS NOT gotten ‘delhi belly’ and she has been there for what, a month now? So Delhi is the place for her.

Well I am still tryin to figure out why they sent my girl Sylph to Nigeria, but as soon as I figure that out I will let her know!**smile**

But I think I am beginning to figure out one of the reasons why I got sent to Cuba!

So I went to one of the hospitals here in Havana called Cira Garcia. Now, let me qualify this by saying, I do NOT like going to hospitals. I do not like the look of them, the smell of them, just the word hospital and I get antsy. I got dengue fever one time a few years ago and I refused to go to the hospital. In fact I think they were praying I would lose consciousness so that they could take me there without me knowing. I kept saying I would rather die comfortably in my own bed than go to the hospital and suffer. ESPECIALLY to one in Tobago! (Ay, I am from Tobago so I could knock the hospital eh, I don't want nobody else bad mouthing the hospital, yuh hear!)
Added to which I have had some BAD experiences and also those of people close to me of people doing real nonsense to us in hospitals, so i have a kind of phobia.

Of course you would think that for someone who does not like hospitals that I would not get sick so all the time, but that is not the case with me - I tend to catch every cold that goes by, I had measles TWICE as a child (yea you supposed to get those diseases once, right?), I allergic to everything except OXYGEN... As my girl in Delhi says "I ain't finish bake" I came out too early, so some things probably needed a bit more time!

Needless to say I have not been feeling well for a few weeks now, and I did go to see a doctor when I was at home, but with no relief even after I finished the entire course of medication they gave me, I thought let me go to the hospital here, but only only because I really was not feeling well, so I didn't want to risk it, plus I figured everyone is raving about the Cuban health system so let me give it a whirl. So I walked in with the results of the tests I took back home as well as the medication I was taking (medication which really made my tummy hurt by the way) To make a long story quite short, after the doctor laughed at the test results I brought with me and told me to throw away the medicine, within a week I had some new tests done and I was diagnosed with this condition called Hashimoto's Disease. Basically my immune system does not recognise my thyroid gland as part of my body anymore, so my antibodies are attacking it.
So let's say my immune system and my thyroid gland were living together all the time happily, but then one night poor Mr. Thyroid woke up to get some water to drink and Mrs. Immune System heard the noise, came down in the dark and, thinking it was an intruder, start hitting him in the head with a cricket bat, but no matter how much Mr. Thyroid says "it's meeee, ur boo" Mrs. Immune System is so bent on getting rid of intruders, that she keeps hitting the poor man. Of course this is not even close to what I was told was wrong with me back home, and from what I have read about this condition on the Internet I am lucky to have found out I have this before Mr. Thyroid dies from blunt force trauma, if yuh know what I mean.

So I am on some meds now, which I must admit for being only about 10 dollars in our money for a whole box of them, they are already making me feel a lot better. I think this place may do me well - good health care, affordable medication - sounds like a plan.

So they sent the one who always getting sick to Cuba! I knew there was some reason for them sending me here! If only I could figure out why they send Sylph to Nigeria. From reading that Bed story, I think she has a circulation problem she does not know about yet...

Furniture Shopping - Part 3 (by Sylph)

2008-12-15T14:57:00.018-04:00

We head back to the furniture district in the sahara for our third visit, one which was most unwelcomed, because I could not understand how my fabric was sold. We were there just two days ago, finalising the arrangements to commence production, or so I foolishly thought. Now, they are telling me that the fabric gone!!! Explain to me, how that possible??? Ah vew, ah damn vew to be honest.... Because I really had no intention of testing my lungs yet again. And worst yet so soon. At least allow nature to run it course and the few antibodies in the system to try and combat the impurities that had invade my being and was attempting to take up residence in my lungs. Not rush back to the sahara and open the flood gates to some more.

We arrive and are greeted "you're welcome, you're welcome", when I am actually more like - 'I'm angry, I'm angry' and the salesman immediately start making all sorts of attempts to explain and apologise and further explain and then again apologise for what had lead to this mishap. I really was not amused... Because, just two days prior, money was paid to commence production. Why wasn't I informed of this possibility. Why wasn't there any attempt to explain that the fabric was an area of concern. All I received was assurances that the job will be done and I will be satisfied. Two days later the job is yet to commence and I am highly annoyed and most certainly unsatisfied.

By now we are offered a seat, in the dusty little store and informed that the fabric, which we paid for on Monday was sold since Saturday, because we did not make a payment on that occasion. Ehhhh!!! Come again. So why the hell no one saw it necessary to inform us of this before??? If the fabric was sold on Saturday, how is it that on Monday you are giving me your assurances that the job will be done? How is it that it took two days for you to realise that the fabric GONE and not coming back? What really took place between those two day? Can anyone tell me? Because I would really like to know...

So the young man explains and explains, until I get fed-up listening and then I just requested to be taken back to the fabric store to make another selection. Only then did I begin to understand what might have transpired. Now, notice I did not say 'fullly understand', just 'begin to'. Allow me to explain... What the young man in the little furniture store neglected to mention was that he was not the owner of the little fabric store. So even though he took us there and guided us through the store, giving us tips on selecting the appropriate fabric, as well as samples of the fabric to leave with and his assurances that all was well, the fabric was not his to sell. So right there and then the rightfull owner will come in to say that I had such exceptional taste that the fabric was sold the very said day. Is this an attempt to make the situation better???? I think not...... Clearly, there was no regard for my interest, because the mighty dollar had the final say.

So yet again I make another selection. However, on this occasion, what I did not ask, is what do not exist, because I WAS NOT going back in that dust bowl to select fabric AGAIN......

I made my second selection and permit me to say, I do think it was a damn good one, however on this occasion I was also challenged with selecting samples of fabric to reupholster some furniture at the High Commissioner's residence. And this came with a twist.... She had certain colours in mind, so it had to be along those lines. For some reason however, the little fabric store simply did not have any options along the suggested colour scheme, so I am told "worry not, there are other stores that we can go to". Trust me, right there and then I should have broken out in a cold sweat, but being the newcomer I had not clue what I was in store for.

We leave my nice little fabric store and head down a dirt path.... Now all the streets in this furniture district are dirt paths, however the one we begin our journey on is like no other that I have ever seen. Its was uneven and littered with a cluster of shops, furniture, vendors, children playing, chickens picking, at what, I cannot say because as far as the eye can see is dust and more dust. We walk and walk some more and pass a multitude of small shops selling from car parts to mattress, steel doors and fencing, hardware supplies, lumber, used electronic and the list goes on and on... and then we walk some more... I start to look down at my feet and once black shoes. Everything started to take on the colour of its environs. We walk some more, then suddenly we make a diversion off one dirt path to the next. We entered a small fabric store and viewed their selection, I requested a few samples and move on to other, and then another and yet another. Ooohhhhh, my lungs have begun to get heavy and tired, time to head back. I think I have more than enough samples to take back to the office.

Two weeks later we are called by the store owner to view the progress and to receive an update as to the production of my living and dining room sets and he insists that we come and view the progress. So we are off again on visit number four. At least my lungs got a two week rest. We arrive at the district and he offered to take us in his vehicle to the production area. Words cannot describe what had unfold. But I can assure you that I viewed my furniture, which was being upholstered in the selected material and I was satisfied with the progress. We leave for the office.

One week later, yet another call.... Both sets were completed, please come and view yet again. Must I????? Come on..... We head back to the sahara yet again, now visit number five and we view the finished product and make arrangements for delivery and final payment.

I must commend the guys from the Asokoro furniture district. My furniture was delivered and I must say that I was certainly pleased. They did an excellent job, particularly considering their limited access to resources and utilites. I was quite impressed by the high quality of the work and dispite the rough start, the final product was worth the wait. Much thanks for - A Job well done....

The finished product.....

Nigerian Wedding

2008-12-13T13:13:00.012-04:00

I had the pleasure of attending my very first wedding in Nigeria. Now, I would consider myself to be very privileged to be honest, because during the course of my first week in Nigeria, I mentioned to my colleagues in the office that I would like to experience a wedding in Nigeria. Two weeks later the invitation arrived, so you can just imagine my excitement. On receiving the invitation I was informed that the couple was married traditionally, however we were invited to the church ceremony, to be followed by a reception. Apparently it is the practice of some Nigerians to have two ceremonies - a traditional and church ceremony.

The church ceremony was held at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and commenced promptly at 10 am. So we arrive at the church and were greeted by an array of persons, pedalling their trade on the outside of the church premises. There were vendors selling refreshments, newspapers, fresh fruit, cameramen taking photographs, persons offering corsage's and wedding programmes and all of these services are being offered at a price. Allow me to shed some light, or rather explain. The average Nigerian is very enterprising, because life in Nigeria is a hustle. So from early in the morning you will see persons on the city streets, hustling their trade, what ever that trade might be, ranging from tailoring, shoe repair and shine, small traders selling a variety of items, fruit vendors. You name it and I can assure you that you can go out on the street corner and someone will pass by offering that item or service for sale. Back to the wedding....

So we anxiously pass the mass of vendors on the outside and make our way to the church door, making a brief stop to collect a wedding programme. As I begun to mount the steps of the church however, I pause for a moment to view the cover of the programme in my hand, which brings me to an instant stop. On the cover of the nicely done programme was the picture of a couple I did not recognise. Now I am in Nigeria no more that eight weeks and I met the bride-to-be only on one occasion, however I was certain that the person I was looking down at was not the person I was introduced to and whom had invited me to share in her joyous day of marriage. Who the hell is this?

Right under the photo were the names Joy and Felix....... So I call out to the two persons that were with me, "stop, we need to call the driver, because we are at the wrong church." The response from them was "are you certain?" My response, "the wedding we are suppose to be attending is that of Meg and Dave, however this programme says Joy and Felix." The three of us are now standing on the church steps with the greatest look of confusion, because according to the invitation in my hand, the wedding was to be held at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and according to the programme, which I was also holding in my hand, the wedding of Joy and Felix was also at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and they were both scheduled for 10am. This was certainly a first for me.

I stood at the entrance of the church literally peeking, trying to locate my other colleagues from the office. Because of limited space in the vehicle, a few of them had gone ahead, so they should have been seated already. However, one glance in the church and I was reminded that I was in Africa, because all I can see was an assortment of large head wraps in various forms, sizes and colour, so trying to identify someone in that crowd was almost impossible. I stood there wondering 'are we at the right location, what's really going on here'. On a second glance into the church however, I observed that the front pew was filled of women wearing white veils and I wondered to myself 'is it normal for the bridesmaids to be all dressed in white, veil and all?' What's going on here? The three of us were totally confused. Against our better judgement a colleague of mine called one of the persons who arrived ahead of us to enquire where they were and if it was indeed the right church. That person responded in the affirmative and encouraged us to enter the church as the service had already begun. So we did. Although still very much confused.

We entered the church and took our seats and got right into the service. The priest was already doing the sermon and giving the couples (please note the use of the plural word) some words of advise. I start right away to pay attention to my surroundings and the proceedings, because I really wanted some clarification as to why I was invited to Meg and Dave's wedding and the programme in my hand said Joy and Felix. Right after the sermon the priest invited the couples to join him on the altar to say their vows and at that point things became much clearer. Five brides, accompanied by five grooms made there way to the altar. Now that will explain the front row filled of women dressed in white, topped with white veils on their heads. I am beginning to understand. This was a multiple wedding ceremony, definitely a first for me.

The five couples all lined up on the altar and the mother and father-givers were invited to join them. The priest then began the recital of the vows with the first couple, which so happened to be the couple that invited me to the event, Meg and Dave. So one by one the priest went down the aisles, as the couples recited their vows. Right in the middle of the vows of the fourth couple there was an outburst at the entrance of the church.... Oh my, what can this be????? In comes couple number six one hour into the ceremony.

Did I mention that on the invitation I received it boldly stated 10am promptly.... You might have gathered that I was not as prompt as the invitation suggested, however, I was not getting married along with five other persons. Apparently, no one saw it fit to point out the time to bride number six and her enter bridal party. So at 11am the service was interrupted by the rushing bride, accompanied by her groom, mother-giver, father-giver, bridesmaids, groomsmen, junior bride, relatives, friends and well wishers. It was almost as though they came on a bus. They all just came running down the aisles, heading straight to the foot of the altar. Now now, what can be done about this? And hour into the service and bride number six has just arrived? So you can imagine the confusion and the outburst of murmuring in the church. Plus poor bride number four, probably wondering who/what the hell interrupted her vows in front of all these people. The priest stood there in amazement. After taking a couple of seconds to assess the situation he directed them to side of the altar until he completed the recital of the vows with couple number four. Then he moved on the awaiting couple, number five. On completion, he looked up, almost puzzled and confused as to what was the appropriate action to be taken. After a brief consultation with the persons on the alter he signalled to the couple to join him on the altar and proceeded to give them a good scolding, followed by their vows.

The ceremony took the full format of a mass, including offertory and communion and the church had an extremely vibrant choir, which lifted the mood and gave the atmosphere of a celebration. Right after the communion the priest requested the couples to quickly assembly for the signing of the marriage register. At this point, all of the couple, followed by their entire bridal party, moved swiftly down the aisle and assembled at the door of the church. And one by one the couples and their entourage, danced down the aisles in a procession to the choir singing songs of praise and thanksgiving. There was signing and dancing and chanting throughout the church. It was truly a moment of celebration, as they made their way to sign the marriage register and receive their final blessings.

So the ceremony was over and thoroughly enjoyed by all. Now we make our way to the reception. We arrive at the hall and were ushered to our table and await the arrival of the newly weds. On their arrival, they were greeted by the bridal party, who were all outfitted in the same fabric and once again they danced their way down the aisles. Now, I have observed that it is the practice during times of celebration for an entire family (and I am not referring to four or five persons, more like twenty-five, thirty persons, man, woman and child) to be all outfitted in the same fabric. There will be various styles and versions of outfits and head wraps to match, however it will all be made from the same fabric. In similar fashion, both the bride and groom's parents will be outfitted in the same fabric.

The reception took on the format of any regular wedding reception, but what stood out was that when the couple was invited to take their first dance, the guests was invited to spray them. This spraying, which is something I am considering to introduce at my wedding, was not with perfume or anything of liquid form, neither was it done with rice, which is often done in countries like the one I am from. Instead the couple was sprayed with money. Yes, MONEY........ Lots and lots of MONEY.... I was surprised and very, very pleased..... And the more they danced, the more money was thrown their way. Now I have always found weddings to be quite an expense. This expense may sometimes be met by the parents, however most times, particularly in recent times, the couples are the ones bearing the expense. So wouldn't it be nice to be sprayed with some cash to assist with covering your first month's bills. Wouldn't it?????

I must say the wedding was enjoyed by all. I was truly thankful for being invited to share in their special day. I would like to wish Meg and Dave, and Joy and Felix, and all of the other couples all the best in their future together and may they have a happy and fruitful marriage.

Furniture Shopping - Part 2 (by Sylph)

2008-12-11T17:48:00.007-04:00

I am certain you can re-call the two instructions I received before my furniture extravaganza in the Sahara, on my second day in Nigeria, which so happened to be October 28th. To my great dismay only today, December 11th did the furniture store feel it necessary to come and replace the damn damaged bed that they delivered before my arrival and this delivery did not come by without a fuss.

The instructions given to me on that morning, clearly stated that during the course of the week the furniture store will, I repeat, WILL replace the bedroom set, as the one delivered was not the set paid for. Apparently, it was the set on display and was visibly damaged. Okay, simply enough..... So why seven weeks later this damn thing is still sitting up in the bedroom, occupying space and even worst collecting dust? Why wasn't I hearing anything positive from the furniture store? I made it my business to go over to the store to enquire as to what was the keep back and on each visit the excuses became more and more ridiculous and no true attempt was being made to replace the bedroom set. So by now my patience is wearing thin, because not only is the bed damaged, but the mattress delivered was not only damn hard and uncomfortable, it was not the one we purchased and was valued much less. So I am forced to sleep on a damn hard, uncomfortable bed and only receiving excuses, upon excuses, with no end in sight.

I have had enough.....

So I storm across to the store, which is walking distance from the office and inform the sales lady that if the bed cannot be replaced we would like a refund and I was damn serious about that. A day later, (Thursday) the young lady finds her way to my office to inform that after being spoken too so 'sternly', she had to bring the matter to the attention of her manager and calls were made to the manufacturer to ensure that the bed will be delivered, as they (the store) did not want to lose the High Commission's business. STEUPS.... She goes on to say that the new bed will be delivered on the following Tuesday.

Needless to say that Tuesday came and went and no bed was delivered. NONE... Absolutely NONE..... On Wednesday, while making groceries in the said store, minding my business, trying not even to think about the bed, I run into the sales lady, who quickly whisks me away to her manager to apologise and reassure me that the bed had indeed arrive and will be delivered the next day (Thursday). Of course, both Thursday and Friday went by and no bed was in sight. No bed I say, NONE...... So I am forced to sleep on my hard damaged bed.

One week later, on December 10th the phone rings and who can be on the other line, but the good old sales lady who is forever promising. This time around she informs that they are ready to deliver...... Deliver!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What???????????? I must be dreaming.......

Yes, they are ready to deliver my long lost bed, however we are away on business and no one, I repeat NO ONE, is available to receive the delivery. Can you believe it. Its like a never ending nightmare. So there I sat and wonder, will I ever get the opportunity to lay eyes on it, or even better lay my body on my long lost bed. Oh, when will we get the opportunity to bond, for me to lay between the sheets and cuddle with my blanket and pillows and rub my body against the mattress, which I oh so hope is softer than the one I have now, because times are nothing short of HARD and ROUGH, on the current one that I am sleeping on. Oh when will we be together?????

Point to note; apparently in Nigeria they like to sleep on a hard mattress. Not firm, but hard.... Brick hard. I have never encountered such hard mattresses in my life. Never..... I thought the mattress in the apartment was hard, however last weekend we travelled out of state and stayed at a hotel, which had the hardest mattress I have ever slept on. And I make no joke. It was like lying on a brick. The shit was brick hard. Needless to say, the first night I laid awake for a very long time, trying to imagine a soft spot on the bed and make myself comfortable enough to close my eyes and fall asleep. The night was rough.....

So we missed the first attempt to actually deliver the bed and there I am praying that this was a genuine attempt and eagerly requesting for the delivery to be made on the following day.

December 11th.... Now I must say that today was an extremely fulfilling day. A day to remember, because quite a number of unresolved issues, somehow managed to be resolved today. For instance, since I have arrived in Nigeria I have not been issued with an official cell phone or number and like magic, that was resolved. A past request made to upgrade our internet service to wireless, and walla that too is being resolved. (Hopefully by tomorrow, I will be wireless.) A telephone technician that has been in and out the building for weeks, this afternoon informed that our landlines should be working (I am yet to test the lines, but I am very hopeful. The landlines at the Mission has not worked for a very long time, to long to remember). The heavens must have smiled on us today. For certain, christmas is around the corner. And the topping on this cherry pie, is the sales lady actually calling to say that my new bedroom set is on its way. Whoopppyy, today is my special day. Santa has come early in December. My new bed is on its way.....

Yes, the new bedroom set was delivered this afternoon and I was very pleased with the style and design of the set. It was a vast improvement from the one before and the mattress even seems to be softer, cannot wait to get between the sheets.

So the new bed was delivered, the old one taken away (good riddance), now its time to put some sheets on the bed, because this has been the long awaited night. But as my mother and I attempt to make the bed, we realise a slight peculiarity. The mattress refuses to fit. It seems to be slightly bigger than the bed!!!!! Now, come on that cannot be...... Who delivers a bed with the wrong size mattress? WHO????? Let me tell you - Furniture stores in Nigeria, that's who...............

We twist and turn that damn mattress round and round until I eventually give up and left her with the damn bed. I have had enough..... Who would have thought it possible.

To be honest, tonight I will be sleeping with my legs slightly elevated and that is not because I have a back or a swelling problem. Its because the mattress cannot fit into the bed frame and is lying on-top the edge of the bed. And I can assure you that this may never change, because they way of business in this country is like no other and the procedures and stress I might now have to endure might outlast my stay in Nigeria.

So I am off to sleep in my new slightly elevated bed. Stay tuned for more furniture shopping in the Sahara.

A ride in the Guagua (by Beenie Girl)

2008-12-09T01:22:00.003-04:00

Ok so based on my track record, I should have guessed that this would happen because somehow the first time I take a bus in any foreign country is usually very eventful – The first time I took a bus in Guyana (well that was more like a maxi) I almost cried because the conductor was shouting at me to “draw round and make room” and I was thinking “Room where?” The first time I took the bus in London I was on the wrong side of the road, so I took right number of bus but I was on an Eastbound 176 instead of a Westbound one. Needless to say instead of ending up on Oxford Street I was looking out the window wondering: “Why am I seeing children playing in fields?” So on Saturday I took a bus for the first time here and history repeated itself. Now let me first of all explain how I got on this bus and the frame of mind I was in when I arrived on this bus.
My mom and I went to a kind of trade fair with another woman who works at our Embassy (we will call her ‘Missy’ for today). It was nice to get out for a change and I bought some gorgeous wooden sculptures and other stuff. While we were at the fair we got an emergency call to go back to the office to sort something out. Unfortunately by then we could not get a hold of the Embassy driver so we had to find some public transport. We walked for a few minutes looking for a taxi but to no avail. We tried stopping private cars on the way and all but by Cuban law, a Cuban without a taxi-license is not allowed to give a foreigner a ride with them in their car. Not even when it is your best friend. If the police stops you, the driver gets a fine and you have to out of the car, even when it is in the middle of no-where. So apparently not many people were feeling like taking the risk that day, so ‘hopping a drop’ or hitch hiking was out of the question.
Eventually Missy gets an idea that we should try and get a bus, since the bus stop is QUOTE “Right down the road, not far from here” END QUOTE Of course we walked and walked and walked some more and somehow this bus stop kept moving further away. While we were walking we were getting the brief on taking the bus in Cuba. The bus we were goin to take, Missy explained, is for Cubans and so we are supposed to get on the bus quickly and stay very quiet so no one would know we were not Cuban (as if I look Cuban!) I mean I am sure there are all kinds of Cuban people, but I am sure the Cubans are smart enough to know who not from here, especially as I now come off the boat so to speak. Now, buses are a popular means of transport in Cuba and are especially crowded on weekends and public holidays. The first thing one might notice about these buses is that many of them are quite old because the blockade has made it difficult to purchase new buses. There are two national bus operators in Cuba. The national bus company in Cuba is the larger of the two and designed to cater primarily for Cubans, while another smaller bus company serves tourists. Cuban nationals pay for their bus rides in the local Cuban pesos, while foreigners are supposed to either rent a car, take a taxi, or use the other special bus company and they will pay in dollars or Convertible pesos (CUC). I think I read somewhere that the some of the regular buses in Cuba have some seats reserved for foreigners who pay in dollars or CUC. However not everybody in Cuba is authorized to receive payment in dollars or CUC, so imagine if you go to a particular bus terminal and they don’t have a special office to collect the CUC or the bus driver does not receive CUC then you in trouble, no bus ride fuh you.
Now if any of you know me and know how much I DETEST walking for any long period of time, you will know that I agreed to this fanciful plan only because by then I was sooo tired of walking and walking, I would ride a burro back to the Embassy at this point. So with Cuban pesos in hand we approach the bus stop. So I am saying “I am sure they will figure me out right away, it’s not like I can blend in any kind of crowd first of all because I am gigantic.” My mother is muttering to herself “They bound to figure me out in my fancy Ted Arthur leather slippers, who wearing slippers like this here? Eh? WHO?” So we stop talking a few feet from the bus stop, because remember the idea is to stay quiet and BLEND IN. Of course I find this makes us stand out more cause people are all chatting with people next to them and the three of us standing up together but completely silent. The bus arrives and according to plan we jus go in with the crowd of people, drop in our pesos happily and move speedily to the back of the bus. So I am not even looking and Missy and my mom so at least if someone catches me we still have someone to call the Embassy and to tell to the reporters what really happened.
After a few stops the bus was packed or for want of a better phrase – RAM CRAM. Imagine the bus driver was trying to close the front door and bodies were preventing de door from closing and of course they not getting off eh, because they insist on going home in THIS bus. Well I see some people by the door kinda tip toe, and the door jus pop in. Of course I am thinkin ok, when that door opens again those people going to pop of that step and fall on the sidewalk. But that was the least of my worries at that point. We were near the back of the bus which was slightly less crowded than the front and to make it better we were near a door so we did not have to think how we were going to maneuvering through all those bodies to leave the bus.
Well there is no bell on the bus, the bus driver is supposed to stop at every stop. The man stops out our stop and I thought “fabulous we made it unscathed.” Like I said we were near a door which up until that point opened each time the bus stopped. However, now we were at our stop and Mr. Bus Driver on a whim decides not to open that back door - talk about instant panic! I start thinking Lord, this is it, this is our punishment for not paying CUC, for sneaking on the bus, Look I getting carried away in this bus. My mother’s face was like “Look what they get me into now?” Missy started banging on the door shouting: “Chofer! Chofer!” Just as Mr. Bus Driver about to drive off, some man nearby like he feel sorry for us, he shouted someting in Spanish and then u see the bus driver jus wave and open the door. I jump off that bus so fast! The only time I ever left a bus faster than that was when I fell off the back of one of those open back Routemaster buses in London, but that is another bus story…

Ordinary World - Part 1 (by Beenie Girl)

2008-12-08T23:30:00.004-04:00

“And as I try to make my way, in this ordinary world,
I will learn to survive…” (Ordinary World – Duran Duran)

Sometimes I feel like I can totally relate to the things I see and experience here in Cuba and yet other times I feel like I am in a completely different world. Some days I laugh and wonder if I am in Cuba or back home. For instance, next to the Embassy, there is a house where a swimming pool is being constructed in the back yard. Since I came here a few weeks ago, every now and then as a little break from work, I look outside to see how the pool is going. Now understandably, because of the blockade, construction material is difficult to access and often delays building projects, so yunno, yuh have to make allowances for these things, but as far as I could see they had lots of material and stuff lying around the yard. The workmen would come to work shovel some gravel from one side to the next, put down a few tiles, then I would be like “where the workmen gone?” By the time the sun get hot, workmen no where to be seen. Some days they would work quite hard eh but other times to be honest I just wanted to order some jumpsuits from Trinidad for these guys, cause they had some real “CEPEP-like” working hours. I could relate to them workmen.
But there are some things that may seem completely ordinary to the average Cuban which is like so foreign to me. Some of the peculiar things I have seen or have found out so far I wonder if it is even possible to make those things work in Trinidad and Tobago:

Red light Green Light 1,2,3 …
When you get to the traffic lights there is this counter telling you how many more seconds are left on your green light or red light as the case may be, so that you know, ok the green light has only 3 seconds left, then I should probably slow down. Fabulous idea. But I thought about those lights and I said to myself that stuff only working in Cuba, where there is a policeman on nearly every corner. Can you imagine them traffic lights back home in T&T? Somebody would always be sayin: “A whole 3 seconds left on that green light? I COULD MAKE DAT!” Zoooooom! Bolt through the traffic light and hope no one coming.

Saturday School?
Ok we all know what Sunday School is, whether you talking about the one where you read bible stories or the one that takes place in Buccoo. But school on Saturday is not something we are really used to. Extra lessons maybe, if you in Standard Five or something. I was driving past a school yard and I saw a whole bunch of children in the school yard, so I was thinking maybe they have a school fair or some kind of thing. Only to ask and find out that children go to school on Saturday to do projects such as helping to do repairs or cleaning at the school, and other school community projects. I was like, look how they happily working on their projects, what a good way to encourage students to have a sense of community and a sense of responsibility for their school surroundings!
But think about it, you could imagine trying to get our Trini children to leave Cartoon Network and Hannah Montana to go to school on Saturday? Not unless it involved some kind of test results or something and even then some of them not comin a place! I have some little cousins you can’t even get them to do regular chores home without the promise of MONETARY GAIN, as if I could have asked my mother or my sister for money to wash any dishes home … trust me all now I would still be eating through a feeding tube, but I digress, Believe me, this is another thing I am sure would work fine here in Cuba, but in Trinidad and Tobago, I feel them teachers woulda have to bribe or threaten those kids somehow!

Like I said some things seem so foreign to me here and yet others seem so ordinary, I still have so much to learn and to get used to, like not having access to everything I want right at my finger tips most if not all of the time. Today I saw a bottle of sweet almond oil at the pharmacy in the hospital and I wanted to buy it then I was told I could not buy anything in that pharmacy without a prescription. Ummm for a bottle of sweet almond oil? I wonder what that prescription would be for, split ends? What about the lip balm next to it, did I need a prescription for that too? So I decided I didn’t need sweet almond oil that much and I could wait till my castor oil came in my shipped stuff. Am I being forced to live a life full of restrictions and controls? Or am I slowly being taught to develop more discipline? I guess it depends on how you look at it. The more I think about it and the more I open my mind, the more I realize I could actually like it here, or at least I can learn to.

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

Furniture Shopping - Part 1 (by Sylph)

2008-12-07T15:36:00.007-04:00

I arrived in Nigeria, very early on a Monday morning and early on Tuesday morning was informed that I will be running the shop and not just for a day, but for almost two weeks.... No probs, I have taken on bigger challenges.... But this authority was passed on with a few instructions.

Firstly, I was informed that the mission had purchased new bedroom furniture for my apartment, however the set that was delivered was not the one paid for and will be replaced by the end of the week. To facilitate this I was provided with the name of the store and sales attendent. Needless to say that eight weeks later, that very said set has not been replaced, but I am attending to that matter. You will be certain to read about this and it will not be in the Nigerian Daily Trust (the daily newspaper).

Secondly, I was informed that the furniture in my apartment (living room and dining room set) had to be replaced, however in an attempt to give me some input in the process, they decided to allow me to select the design and fabric of the furniture. No probs, I have taken on bigger challenges..... Or so I thought. However, after relaying these instructions I was informed that "remember this is Nigeria, so try to be open minded". On receiving those guidelines my mind began wondering!!! Just what was I in store for??? But never could I have anticipated the scenario that was about to unfold.

We leave for the furniture district on a Saturday morning and by this time I have had a snapshot of Nigeria, so I am being as open-minded as I can possibly be. I refer to the area as a furniture district because that is the only way a new comer like myself can describe the clutter of small shops, which offered a vast array of home and office furnishing.

On approaching the district I can clearly remember my mother's expression "WHAT IS THIS???"

Let me try to paint a picture........

Nigeria is relatively a dusty place and if you can recall from earlier articles, I did mention that we arrived at the start of the dry season. Added to which the composition of the soil in Nigeria is rather sandy and light-brown in colour. So we are driving along the highway and in the distance we see a cluster of what seems like tents or huts all covered in dust and the vehicle begins to slow down, then pulls on the shoulder and off onto a dirt road, track-like path, then stops. Okay, I guess we are here, because all around, all I can see is various types of furniture, ranging from beds, night stands, living room and dining room sets, book shelves, coffee tables, upholtesry fabric, you name it and I am certain you can find it in this little furnuiture district.

However, we have left the city and gone straight to the sahara....... because the backdrop of all of this was the open air, under the radiant sun, right on-top the damn DUST...... yes dust I said..... Right on-top the dust. That same dust you are viewing above.

So we get out of the vehicle and entered a small store where we are greeted "You're Welcome, You're Welcome" by the most pleasant sales person, who offered us a seat and provided us with a stack of magazines and photo albums, displaying an assortment of furniture, to enable us to select a design for both the living room and dining room set. After our selection was made and we came to an agreement on the number of pieces to be custom built, we were taken a few doors away to the fabric store to select the material for the upholstering of the furniture. I must say however, that the fabric store had the widest array of upholstering fabric that I have ever encounter. I was quite impressed with the variety of lovely fabrics to choose from. So now that both design and fabric were selected it seemed like we were all set. How long will it take for the furniture to be built? Two to Three weeks..... Okay, not a problem. We will return on Monday to make a downpayment..... We arrive at an agreement and leave for the residence.

On Monday afternoon we returned to the furniture district and as agreed, made the requisit downpayment to commence the start of my living room and dining room set. On this occasion we met the owner of the little store. So we go over both the selected design and fabric, to ensure that I would not end up with something I did not select. I was pleased however, that we were both on the same page and the owner gave his assurances that work would commence on the very next day (Tuesday).

On Wednesday morning, a colleague from the office comes to me with a strange look on his face and says "we have to return to the furniture district." My response. "Why?" Because in my mind, we had come to an agreement two days ago and I was in no mood to inhale any more dust.... Please spare my lungs, I thought!!!!!! He had just received a phone call from the owner of the store, saying that the fabric that we had not only selected and agreed upon, but also made a downpayment on, was sold. SOLD I said, SOLD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now why me??????

I can assure you, I was not pleased, because this would now be our third trip to the furniture district in under a week. On the first occasion, just 5 days ago, we came to an agreement. On the second occasion, 2 days ago, we sweetened the deal, by making a downpayment of half the cost of the furniture and at no point during either visit, were we informed that their might have been a problem with the fabric. Why was I being informed 2 days later that my fabric was sold????? And I now have to make a third trip to the furniture district in the sahara....... WHY???? Can anyone tell me???? So in much disgust, I return yet a third time to the furniture district....

To be continued.........

You're WELCOME (by Slyph)

2008-12-07T07:28:00.005-04:00

In every society throughout the world, there is an array of customs and practices that are unique to the people of that society. So for instance, only a trinbagonian can identify when I say there is nothing better than a roti and a red solo, or a drink of coconut water around the savannah, or going to Maracas just to enjoy a Richard's bake and shark, or to Store Bay for a curry crab and dumpling. In Trinidad and Tobago, there is no christmas without ham, turkey, sorrel, pastelles, ginger beer, parang, wild meat, black fruit cake, the smell of fresh paint and vanish and lots of spending and merriment. Right after christmas we rush full speed ahead to carnival. As Trinidad and Tobago is the home of carnival, bachannal and steelpan......

A common trinbagonian phrase is "we going an buss a lime...." Now trust me, this phrase has nothing to do with the small citrus fruit that is commonly used to make juice or served with seafood. We are referring to going out with friends and have drinks in a social setting.... "We go buss ah lime friday nite", simply means a groups of friends plans to get together on friday, probably for a few drinks. Another favourite of ours is "We goin an fete", fete meaning party or dance....... In each country there is that one particular phrase, activity or dish that everyone can identify with. In Nigeria, the phrase is "You're welcome."

In Trinidad and Tobago and most countries that I have visited, the phrase "you're welcome" is used as a form of appreciation or to extend best wishes/invitation to someone.... For example, the remark of 'Thank you' is usually followed by 'you're welcome' or it is common to hear someone say 'you're welcome to join us and share in this experience'.

On my arrival to Nigeria, I was greeted by the words "You're welcome" and have been hearing them ever since. Apparently, in Nigeria, "You're Welcome" is commonly used as a greeting. So on entering any building, or meeting someone for the first time, or leaving a building/room, or requesting assistance, any encounter or attempt to engage in a conversation with a Nigerian you will be certain to hear the words - you're welcome. It's alarming..... If you ask a question, the response is 'you're welcome', you say good morning or good afternoon, you get 'you're welcome'. I can certainly assure you that Nigerian people are extremely welcoming..... Whether that's the greeting you were looking for or anticipating, you will most certainly be welcomed by any Nigerian you meet.

It was also very delightful to observe on my arrival that not only the warm, welcoming Nigerian spirit was awaiting me, but I was also graced with two brown doves ready and waiting to hatch on my window sill. Just two short days after my arrival these two birds were welcomed into the world and became a pleasant addition my morning routine. Well that was short-lived, as they quickly gained their strenghten and flew away. However, they presence brought a glimmer of hope to my new situation. Because just like them, I had hatched into a new world and was grasping at straws in an attempt to gain enough strenght in my wings and learn how to fly.

To all my Peeps at Post (By Sylph)

2008-12-05T15:39:00.007-04:00

By now you have realised that I am not the only one undergoing this transition of life at post. So today, I want to send out some love and support to my peeps, who have been scattered around the world. And no better day to do so than on the Birthday of girl in Delhi. HAPPY BIRTHDAY my dear.... I am certain this birthday would be like no other, but I wish you all the best on the year head and may you live to enjoy many, many more.....

We joined the service together and ironically we were posted together. So now, millions of miles away we struggle with time differences and limited access to reliable communications to keep in touch. Because on Friday morning at 8am in New Delhi, its only 3:30am in Abuja, while it's still Thursday at 10pm in Caracas and 8:30pm in San Jose. So you can understand our dilemma. Friends who communicated with each other on a daily basis, often sharing as much as three square meals and snack together in the office, always in each others business, whether invited or not, now have to set their alarm clock two hours earlier, simply to catch each other online and unfortunately, for some that will never work..... For those, they simply have been relying on emails to keep in touch....

So they not only dispersed us all over the world, they did it in such a strategic manner, limiting our ability to communicate, almost as if they were attempting to prevent the occurance of a revolt. But I can assure you, we will survive, and if that revolution is to take place, trust me, it will. Because the bonds that were established over the last two and a half years are certainly strong and will with-stand the test of TIME DIFFERENCE, even if it means losing a few hours sleep.

Now, this time difference thing is some serious business, because even though I have adjusted my clock to the local time in Abuja, six weeks later and my body is still functioning on Port of Spain -5hrs time. So at 12midnight in my town, my brain looking for TV6 News....... and at 8am in the morning, all my body wants to do is pull the covers up, because somehow in my head its 3am. Now you can see yet another plus of residing on-top the shop. Because I can get out of bed at 7:45am and still be on time for 8am.... Traffic is a breeze.... Gone are the days of getting up at 4:30am and hustling into Port of Spain to beat rush hour traffic and losing 2 sometimes 3 priceless hours of my day to the gruesome north-south traffic. So I rush down to the shop/mission every morning just to checkin on my girl in New Delhi. Because in her time zone, I will be the first one to sign in just around the time she will be having lunch.

So to all of my peeps at post, as we embark on this journey do remember that life is filled of choices and its the choices that we make that will transform our lives. And as we struggle to adjust on our new assignments and new time zones, do remember that you are not alone, because we came in together and we were sent out (although to different locations) together, so together we shall remain.

How we ended up in Nigeria (by Sylph)

2008-12-04T06:41:00.015-04:00

Receive the instrument of transfer........ Blank...... No reaction........ State of confusion and disbelief......... Are they out of their mind?????????????

Silence........................................................

I drive from Port of Spain to San Fernando in this silence and now uncertain as to how to react to this manila folder that has intruded upon my life, containing vile and disruptive words, which I have been avoiding for quite sometime and is now sitting on the back seat of my vehicle. I think to myself, 'should I pelt it out on the highway???????????' But that will only get rid of the paper, the words will still come back to haunt me...... So I continue to drive with my unwanted passenger all the way home, making a brief stop to the my sister's office, asking her to fax the content of my unwanted passenger to my mother in Boston. Yes she found out via fax, because I was in no mood to hold any discussion on the telephone..... Thankfully this folder was received on a Friday, so I spent the rest of my weekend at home in silence.......

Now the possibility of being posted was rumored for quite sometime, however it was a rumor I ignored, because I was not ready to deal with the reality of moving away. I lived a rather simply life and enjoyed the simple pleasures that it brought to me, so for that reason alone, why break something that does not need to be fixed. But now I have this manila folder and its no longer on the back seat of my vehicle, its now sitting on my dining room table. Perfectly well seated as though it was invited for Sunday lunch, crisp and clean in its Sunday best. I look at it and frown, because clearly this invitation was self issued, because the contents of Mr. Manila Folder was no friend of mine. So I go about my business as though it did not exist, all weekend long.

Monday comes around and its time to go back to work and of course question are now being asked. "Where are they sending you? How do you feel about it? Are you going? Are you excited?" I have had enough...................... So I blank it all out and go about my business....... But it is only for so long that one can blank out such a life transforming event. Because now I have a list of things to get done... The letter has to be acknowledged and accepted or declined, passport and visas, immunizations, malaria tablets, banking issues, power of attorney, medical, training, insurance, acquire items to travel with, pack, pack and more pack and the list goes on. In addition to which, I have still have the demands of work and my everyday life to meet.

A month later I acknowledged the contents of the dreaded manila folder and accepted my letter of transfer. Now its time to attend to the items on my 'things to do' list.

It was very timely however that quite a number of stores decided to have half price and going out of business sales around the same time, because without this, only heaven knows how I would have managed to acquire all of the items I required to take along with me.

Let me explain......

For the past thirty years (all of my life), I have been living at home, in my parents house. So most of the household possession belong to them, unfortunately. So now that I am being posted and will be living on my own, even though the government will provide me with basic household furnishings, I now have to obtain such items that will make this house/apartment a home. So we are shopping for items such as dinner ware, glasses, cutlery, pots, pans, baking dishes, storage containers, bedroom and bathroom linens, you name it, we were shopping for it....... For a month all we did was SHOP..... well, when money permitted.... because we work for the government, so many days money did not permit. So on those days we window shopped, and in order to obtain everything on the list, in an affordable manner, I did some drive-bys on my family. So I can assure you, right now they looking for things that liming in my cupboard in Abuja..... SMILE.....

Some of the stores that are worth mentioning are Pricesmart (been there too many times), Pennywise (for all my toiletries and cosmetic needs), What's cooking (found the most adorable crystal glass set, at half price), Mode Alive, C.I.L. (most certainly a life and penny saver) and IAM. I am certain some the store attendents were probably wondering if we were going out of our minds. Either that our we had just won the lottery, because we were there all the time. Needless to say that by the time I board the plane my bank account was DRY. So dry that I could not afford to change my mind, I had to get on that plane, at least to make back some of my money. I WAS BROKE....

My bedroom was used for storage, so it started off with one box and as the days went by the number of boxes increased and increased and then it moved from being just boxes to bags and loose items sitting on the ground and on the bed and under the bed and on the floor. Pretty soon there was no room for lifeforms anymore, just storage....

And as the days and nights went by, I looked on curiously at the confusion that was supposedly my life. How did I manage to get myself into this and can anyone direct me to the exit? Because clearly this was not the life I had planned. No where in my new years resolution for 2008 was I planning to wrap up my life in Trinidad and move to another country. Worst yet, move millions of miles away from home, my family and loved ones. Now if anyone had said Barbados or the Bahamas, I would have been the first one in line. I might have even knocked over some persons in an attempt to get ahead. But Nigeria, across the Altantic...... how are my relatives and loved ones ever going to find me??????????

But the madness continued and each day I came home with something new to add to the store room. And each day I wondered when will the enthusiasm and excitement come? Will it ever come????? Because all around me was a buzz of excitement, persons extended well wishes and congratulations on the BIG MOVE, expressing their enthusiam and excitement. It was almost as if I was about to walk down the aisles and say I DO.... Now that's a thought! Why didn't I come up with that earlier? I certainly had acquired more than enough household items and there was a mister in the waiting. DAMN!!!!!!!!!!!

I could not help but wonder, was there something wrong with me? How is it that everyone can see the excitement in this move and not me? The banker, the insurance lady, friends and distant relatives, even persons I did not know, were all bubbling with excitement. Is it that they are excited to get rid of me??????

To this day, the excitement never came. I boarded the flight and was still in that state of shock and disbelief. But the roomfull of thing were already bought, the bank account empty and the packers came and did their thing. So that's how we ended up in Nigeria....

Day Two (by Sylph)

2008-12-03T06:00:00.020-04:00

The boss and deputy are off on official business and I am informed "We are leaving you in charge"..... Yes you read correct, this is DAY TWO. So second day on the job and I am running the shop.... LOVELY!!!!!!!!!! So I am shown around the office, meet the staff, get familar with my surroundings, read up on the work of the mission, a regular day in my new surroundings and then I go to my computer, to get online. Slight problem... The mission had to acquire a new computer for my use, however in doing so they obtained one with a European standard keyboard. NOW COME ON, WHAT WERE WE THINKING....... In case you are wondering what's the problem. In the Caribbean, where I am from, we use the QWERTY standard keyboard, so that's what I know and accustom to. However, I am now tasked with operating with a keyboard that says QWERTZ...... can someone tell me WHY?????????????

Do I look as though I am ready to take on yet another challenge????? What makes the pie even sweeter is that Mr. Keyboard, even though it's european, was installed under the american keyboard system and no one saw it necessary to inform me. So imagine my confusion trying to make sense of this device. I press Z and get Y, press Y and get Z, could not find the @ symbol anywhere and when I did locate it on the keyboard, (lower case on the Q button) of course I could not get the symbol to appear on a document..... What joy....... It took me half the morning to figure out what was really going on and by now I am ready to pelt Mr. Keyboard right through the window. At this point, I start to ask some questions and investigate as to whether they only supply european keyboards in this country, because if that is the case we certainly need to import one..... can anyone help me..... Much to my disgust, I realise that I am the only one in the mission signed on for this challenge, as everyone else has a regular QWERTY keyboard in front of them. Now now, I ask again, WHY ME?????

Moving right along to the afternoon.... I am informed that we need to go out and purchase some supplies for the office, one of which being an internet cable for my PC, so I eagerly go along for the ride, as this would be my first time leaving the buidling since arriving from the airport. We go to a district called Area III where there are a variety of small shops and vendors plying their trade in make-shift accomodation. An interesting little area, providing an array of commodities, ranging from household supplies and furniture, to office supplies, clothing, shoes and fresh fruits. We go to a small store, supplying a multitude of computer supplies and accessories to get the cable and a couple other gadgets for the office. I say gadgets because in this country, the fluctuation in the electricity supply is alarming, particularly for a new comer. I tell you no lie when I say, electricity goes at least five times for a day and that's on a good day. NO LIE..... So off course the mission is equipped with a wide array of gadgets. There are two generators for when the electricity goes, UPS battery systems connected to all PCs and essential office equipment, to provide back up power, surge protectors and more surge protectors, regulator gadgets to regulator the flow of the electricity supply and the list goes on and on. Needless to say that there is a booming trade in the repair of small electronic items in this country.

Back to the computer supplies store to get our gadgets for the office. This was my first glance at the way of conducting business in Nigeria. We ask for the first item, which was readily supplied to us and a bill prepared, however on asking for the second item, I noticed some irregularities. The gentleman left the store and returned with a pleasant young lady, who brought both the item requested and a receipt book, so the second item was obtained. For the third item, a similar sequence of events took place. The gentleman left the store, yet again, however, he returned with the item, but with a different receipt book. Hmmmmp, what's going on here????? I also observed another perculiarity. For each item requested, there was a great debate over the sale price and with each exchange the price seemed to reduce. What's going on?????? Only later on I would realise that there are no set prices in this country. Prices are determined by the way the buyer looks and how much they are willing to pay. So in order to get a fair or reasonable price, one should pre-determine how much they are willing to spend on an item, even before approaching the salesman that way you will allow yourself an opportunity to bargaining. And do not be afraid to bargain and walk away if the price is not reduced, because once you do, the price is some how automatically reduced. So that afternoon we left the little computer supplies store with three items, sold on three different receipts.

This trip not only thought me how to bargain for a better price, but also that the average Nigerian will not tell you that they cannot provide an item or service. If they do not have it, they shall source it for you to ensure that someone they know, gets the sale and in so doing they might also get a piece of the pie.

FINALLY! (by Beenie Girl)

2008-12-02T15:40:00.010-04:00

Ok so I picked a date to leave, then I couldn’t leave on that date, my passport wasn't ready. So I picked another date ... my mom's visa was not ready in time. I picked a third date ... no room in the hotel I was supposed to stay at. Hmmmm, Ok. A fourth date . . . Hurricane Paloma strikes on the very day I am supposed to leave? A HURRICANE? Ok this is a damn joke now. Or is this a sign? I wonder if I really should really be going on this posting?

Strong breeze stop blowing over Cuba, so I got a flight for the following weekend. Mom and I of course left too many things to pack on the last day. Added to the fact that she brought a whole heap of pastels and roti skins and other goodies to pack in our hand luggage, but we made it all fit by the grace of God and of course by sitting on the bags! Check-in was quite eventful, but we will skip past that to protect the innocent ... fast forward to the plane ride. This was my first time flying COPA Airlines and it was not too bad at first, not enough leg room, but being six feet tall there is never enough leg room anyway. The flight passed through Panama, so about half way through the first leg of our flight they served a light snack.

We stopped off in Panama briefly and then started towards Havana. About 20 minutes or so into the flight I started feeling really weird. Irritable. My face face was a little itchy. I realised I was having an allergic reaction to something I ate on the first leg of the flight. Steuuuupps. See, this is why I couldn't get posted to New Delhi, cause delhi belly would have laid me out in a few hours.

Of course being the greedy girl I am, that didn't stop me from eatin a lil bit on the 2nd leg of the flight after all I was already gettin sick, right? So I ate, took some meds and put my head back. (Needless to say next day my face was quite swollen, nothing a lil drugs couldnt fix though!)

FINALLY I had landed in Cuba! things went quite smoothly, I must admit, except at customs when I was tryin to explain in spanish to the officer what a benne ball was, and what a pastel was, and why I had so much roti skins in my hand luggage. I was then told there are certain restrictions about food brought into Cuba, but maybe it was the time of night, them people in Customs was lookin to go home, so the woman just waved us by after a while.

I noticed two thingg when driving from the airport - one was the lack of street lights, they seem to be very few, and two- although it was almost one in the morning there were people limin by the corner, I saw a woman walkin by herself, and I mean walking, not half running like I would have to be doin if I walk in Port of Spain after dark. I mean, at that time of night with the almost pitch black roadway I was like: this woman crazy! But my colleague explained that Cuba generally was quite safe, no matter what hour of the night.

We were sooo beat when we got to the hotel, we literally just fell into bed...the view from my room next morning was beautiful ... It actually made me smile (a kind of half smile thanks to my swollen face) for a moment, I set aside the emotional strain of the weeks that had just passed and just enjoyed the sound of the sea.

First Impression by Sylph

2008-12-02T09:55:00.005-04:00

I DISLIKED EVERYTHING and I'm being honest.

I just wanted to get back on the next flight home. Unfortunately, I came on a one-way ticket, so that was not an option.

We leave the airport and begin our scenic drive to the residence/chancery. For those who are wondering the chancery is the mission or office and in case you are wondering why I mentioned them together, they are in the same building. Yes, I reside upstairs the office and surprisingly it is definitely a plus for me..... It's about 7am, we are on the road and it's the height of rush hour traffic, there are persons everywhere trying to make their way to work, children in uniforms on their way to school, vendors on the side of the street, plying their trade, police officers directing traffic, sounds like a regular morning. But all of this is taking place on pretty much what seems to be a highway. And what makes the situation even more confusing was the manner in which things were taking place. There were vehicle crossing the median from one side of the highway to the next, there were vehicles driving in the opposite direction on what was presumably the shoulder, persons operating taxi services on scooters/motorcycles, which are referred to locally as 'okadas', carrying two and three persons at a time. All I can say is confusion in my mind.

I also wish to highlight that Nigeria is the most populous African country, with a population of approximately 140 million. Therefore, for someone coming from a country with a population of approximately 1.4 million, it would seem that on any given day that the streets are crowded and there is a constant buzz of activity.

Scene II

Abuja, the newly developed, planned capital of Nigeria in the center of the country. The place is hot and dusty and to add insult to injury, we arrived at the very start of the dry season, which is from November to March, so we have some months of heat and dust ahead. The dry season is also accompanied by a period referred to as Harmattan, which is a dry, dusty West African trade wind that blows from the Sahara. Dust and more Dust............. Yummy............ and I'm asthmatic.

We get to the apartment and the stress of my night's journey begins to take a toll on me, so my mood is automatically unpleasant.... all I am thinking about is how did I end up here and when am I getting out? I miss home, my loved ones, my friends.... I started to miss things that I did not even think about while at home, like a constant supply of electricity, which seems to be oh so rare in this country. I say to myself - "we need to regroup and get some rest, because a fuse is about to blow." So we go to sleep............

With rest, came a new perspective on my environs and my outlook slowly begun to improve. The next immediate need to be fulfilled is connectivity to the world. PLEASE TELL ME THERE IS INTERNET ACCESS!!!!!! and the response was favourable. I told you residing upstairs the shop was a plus..... the entire building is wired... Whooopppy.... I am connected. Now, we have Internet, but there is no phone..... the landlines in the building and in many areas in Nigeria, DO NOT WORK. Never mind, I have the Internet, so I am connected.

pon the plane ( by Sylph)

2008-12-02T02:19:00.005-04:00

Well we are on the plane (mom and I) and I must commend BA for their excellent service. Thankfully I had the wisdom to board the flight early. So we got to our seats and attempted to store our carry on luggage. Now, point to note 'if one gets to ones seat, on a relatively empty plane and there is already luggage in ones overhead bin and no one is sitting next to them, it's a sign of things to come....' Luggage stored away, seat belts fastened and the other passengers are boarding the plane. Everything seems to be normal...... But very soon we begin to realise that for the number of persons on board the flight and the corresponding number of carry-on luggage was increasing and increasing. It was as though each person came with no less than four baggages..... so of course over head bins became very scarce. Pretty soon there was major reconfigurations and transfers of luggage from one bin to the next, from over head compartments to under seats, things falling on passenger's heads, traffic pile up, angry passengers waiting in the aisle, flight attendent asking people to clear the aisles.... COMMOTION needless to say... At this point I took my que to put on my eye patch, because clearly I did not want to be a witness to any assault that might have taken place.

Have you ever been on a flight that is about to take off, I mean already moving on the runway and over head bins are still open and cannot even close!!!!!!!!!!!!! HUMMMPPPP

The plane is ready for take off, begun to taxi, the pilot has made his announcements, seat belt sign on and over head bins are OPEN, ram cram, cannot close. Can you imagine................. and the most amazing thing is that the poor flight attendent cannot find any owners for the luggage. The woman is now moving up and down the aisles asking, "who are the owners of these bags?" and there are no takers. Not a man blink on the plane........ At that point all I could do is PRAY... because that was a first for me. As soon as she moved, someone eagerly jumped out their seat and removed one of the bags from the over head compartment, placed it on an empty seat and closed the bin, like if nothing happened. So now when she returns she becomes even more agitated....... "who are the owner of this bag?" and of course there are no takers........ At that point eye patch went back on and I begun to focus on the arriving safely in Abuja, because I had a six hour and fifteen minute flight ahead of me and clearly I was in for a rough night.

Now I am no fan of travelling, particularly on long flights, so my remedy is to take a gravol, which puts to right to sleep and sleep from beginning to end. Of course that will be facilitated by a nice orderly flight and one would think that at 11pm people will be eager to get some rest for the day ahead of them. Not the case when travelling to Africa. It was like a village reunion. People moving back and forth, cross talk, constant movement. You can imagine my state of confusion, added to which the gentleman sitting next to me, was constantly elbowing me and the gentleman behind me kneeing me all night long... I repeat, ALL NITE.... at no time did he stop..... I was so confused, what did I do to deserve this.

Dinner time comes around, like 1am in the morning... now what are they thinking!!!!!!!! and by the time the flight attendent gets to us, there is a little issue. The option is chicken or beef, however, there is no more chicken. NO CHICKEN I SAY...... Now, a word to the wise and more so to the Flight Crew. In a situation like that, it would have been better if they had just said we are serving only beef tonight, don't even mention the chicken. I say that because the gentleman next to me decided to take them to task, because he paid lots of money for his air fare and was tired of this sort of disrespectful treatment. BA always does this sort of nonesense and he goes on and on, holding up the dinner serve for more than 10 minutes. WHY ME!!!!!! Needless to say that he had the beef and ate it all up......

Words of advice when travelling over the sub-sahara region, drink lots of water and ensure you are well hydrated, because travelling over the desert somehow drains you. Half way through the flight and you feel dry, parched and thirsty. In addition, walk with lots of on-flight entertainment, like an MP3 player, crossword, sudoku, laptop, anything.... Anything that will keep you focused and take your mind away from all that might be going on around. And do say lots of prays.......

Ready or not ... (by Beenie Girl)

2008-12-01T22:34:00.010-04:00

We had been given hints, heard rumors, thought about and talked about it so many times, but it was still a surreal moment looking down at the words infront of me . . . Havana, Cuba. I was not even sure how to react, or how I felt, was I happy? was I sad? was I anything? Who knows, but I was being sent to Cuba. I texted my mom and she called back, I was kind of hoping she would be upset so I would have an excuse not to go, but instead she was excited! Shucks. My sister, the voice of paranoia - "Don't they have alot of hurricanes?" Ok great, one reason not to go. My cousin Renz - "Do they have the Internet? If so, then you can go. It should be okay, as long as u can go online." Hmm, Okay maybe I can go, try a ting, if i ent like it, I know my way back home.

A million trips to Charlotte Street and a few million more trips to Pricemart later and I was all packed, it was too late to change my mind anyway, not after I give up my whole Divali holiday with these packers in my house and certainly not after I had bought all this stuff! and believe me, I bought alot of stuff, as much as I could buy, or maybe I should say as much as my credit card would let me buy before I maxed it out ... Household stuff, clothes, food, things I can't live without and things I would miss (such as Lipton tea, Matouk's guava jam, CRIX, Chief brand curry, a bottle of home made green seasonin from Aunty Elsa and SO much more) and of course toilet paper, which I was advised to bring LOTS of!

So we all know broke and frustrated is a bad combination, so some days I was vex wid everyting and everybody. Plus I feel them people gave us too many vaccines at once to be honest. I ent feel the same since dat day. At least I don't have to take malaria tablets like some of my collegues. Add broke and frustrated to annoyed at how disorganised everything just seemed. I was tired and feelin sick. And then sprinkle on top of that the emotions involved with losing so many friends at once. Who knows when next we will be in the same place all at once, with the possibility of people goin back home at differnet times or being cross-transferred to another Mission. The airport trips and people leaving one by one was getting harder to deal wid. My 'family' was goin to be scattered over so many time zones! What did I really get myself into? This thing is pressure, not as glamorous as people make it out to be. My pockets were empty but my heart was as heavy as lead ... Was I really ready for this? Ready or not ... Here I come Cuba!

The Beginning (by Sylph)

2008-12-01T13:39:00.001-04:00

We joined the Foreign Service in March 2006 and on August 8, 2008 were presented with our instruments of transfer. Now in case you are wondering, an instrument of transfer is the letter transferring you to an overseas mission (High Commission/Embassy). I was transferred to Abuja, Nigeria.

I left Trinidad on October 23, 2008 for London, to arrive in Abuja on October 27, 2008 spending two nights in London. Thankfully, my mother agreed to embark on this journey with me. So we arrived in London on the morning of October 24, greeted by an early morning shower of rain. Even though it rained that morning, I think it was a shower of blessing because we had prefect weather for our entire stay. At no point in time it was too cold or unbearable. We stayed the John Howard Hotel, Queen's Gate, Kensington. A quaint little place, like most of London.

Now, during most of my stay in London, I could not help but question myself about whether or not I was ready to embark on this journey. As this would be my first time being so many miles away from home, for an extended period of time. I would admit, the first night at John Howard was rough, I watch mom sleep quite comfortably for most of the night. However we were able to keep ourselves entertained for the two days.

We were scheduled to depart London late evening on October 26..... Now, having worked in protocol for a couple of years and having dealt with a number of hotels and hotel reservations, I am fully aware that check out time at most, if not all hotels is 12 noon. However, considering I was not responsible for making my own hotel reservations and was certain to forward my flight itinerary to the party who did, I made the foolish assumption that they took my travel details into consideration when making the booking. A word to the wise, "never leave your hotel bookings up to a third party, always confirm your own hotel arrangements, especially your check out time". Okay, so homegirl neglected to check with the front desk the specified check out time and her flight to leave London is at 10:15 pm. So you can do the maths.......

Now here is where the trip takes a dip for sour......

Of course check out is at 12 noon, however mom and I were out until 2pm, stupidly thinking that the hotel was informed that we require a late check out. Might I repeat STUPIDLY..... So we get back at 2pm and were informed at the front desk that the hotel cleared our room because check out was at 12 noon and the hotel was fully booked on that afternoon. Now imagine my horror, in a strange land, no cell phone and no hotel room and my pick up to the airport was arriving at 7pm. Thank heavens I had the sense to pack my bags before leaving that morning.

The hotel was kind enough however, to allow us to go through our things and wait in the office until our pick up arrived. Now the pick up was other story, but I will reserve that one for now.

So we were off to Abuja. Stay turned for the Nigerian's on the plane. That was an experience.....