She is a creator of visual masterpieces. Laura Ferreira relaxes on her couch, her face smiling and open, with eyes flicking continuously to her infant son Kaiden Lee, who is playing nearby. This 23 year old young woman has become one of Trinidad and Tobago’s premiere photographers in such a rapid space of time that even she admits it’s mind boggling. It was barely a little over a year and a half ago that Ferreira decided she needed to strike out on her own and leave the corporate world to pursue her own ambitions. She did something so many are afraid to do – and it has paid off with incredible results. Today, Laura Ferreira is a brand within herself, with a photography style so breathtakingly ethereal that it defines the meaning of photography as art. Through her savvy grasp of viral marketing, her work is internationally lauded, and her business has expanded leaps and bounds further than she could have ever imagined.

For the former graphic designer, delving into her own business was a natural step. “I never could see myself in an office job,” Ferreira laughs. “I’ve always been a creative person – always felt the need to express myself artistically”. Towards the end of her pregnancy with now fifteen month old Kaiden, Laura picked up photography as a hobby to ward off boredom. She began experimenting with self portraits on a simple point-and-shoot camera (a Canon A620) which led to shooting one of her friends for next to nothing. The turning point was uploading the pictures to global social networking site, Facebook, as well as deviantArt.com. The exposure she received was immediate and forceful. Ferreira began receiving requests for commissioned shoots – from portraits for families and business people, to commercial jobs. To date, her work has appeared in regional magazines such as Caribbean Belle and Scorch Magazine and she has shot local soca stars Patrice Roberts and the HD Crew.

Ferreira’s photography stands in stark contrast to anything else the Caribbean has seen. Her work is heavily inspired by fantasy and surrealism, and her recent photographs exude a potent sentiment of the surrealist movement master Salvador Dalí. “Although my first pictures were pretty basic, there was a natural evolution into a more surreal element,” Ferreira explains. “Tim Burton (award-winning gothic film director) is a major inspiration, and that dark component really comes through in my photography”. From beautiful pictures of fairies frolicking in candy-colored meadows with splashes of heavenly hues, to eerie portraits of demonic baseball players and models in graveyards, none of Ferreira’s work repeats itself. It is all so unique, and unquestionably breathtaking –made more impressive by the fact that Laura has taught herself everything she knows, from experimenting with the camera, to mastering Corel Draw and PhotoShop. “I don’t believe in graphics courses!” she adamantly declares. “You shouldn’t have to spend so much money to learn something basic. I dedicated myself to understanding the programs and I wasn’t afraid to play around with them”.

Ferreira’s rise has not been without its trials. Aside from the obvious challenge of being a young mother, Laura has had to come to terms quickly with reconciling her creative nature with the demands of her business clients. She must bite her tongue during more prosaic shoots to deliver exactly what the client wants. Yet, her greatest challenge in starting her own company was that she really didn’t have a clue about the logistics of business. “It was definitely all trial and error,” Laura grins. “In school I was all about art and nothing else appealed to me. I’ve really had to learn to be more assertive with clients and learn about business hands on”. Ferreira has learned the hard way about being firm regarding payment for her work. “When I first started, there were so many people who would demand discounts, and some just refused to pay me after I did work for them,” she reflects. “I had to learn how to just say no”. Now, Laura must say no at times to the constant stream of job requests. Her workload is so hectic that she half jokes that sometimes she misses the structure of an office job. When she is not in front of the camera, she is behind her computer, making her pictures into works of art. “I never leave work!” she asserts. “And it’s a one-man job so I have to be extremely disciplined and organized, and keep on top of everything, regardless of how hectic it gets.” She follows this with a smile. “But there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing. There’s always a price for success!”

Possibly as a result of her self-training, many have commented on Ferreira’s work as being of an “international standard” – a statement Laura has some ambivalence towards. “Why can’t local work look ‘international’?” she questions earnestly. “Everything I do comes from my head – I’m just not afraid to put it out there. Caribbean people need to stop being afraid to branch out – we must open our minds”. Ferreira credits learning on her own with giving her such a unique and distinct edge, and encourages others to do the same. As a true innovator in the local photography field, she happily asserts that she has no immediate plans to leave her home country. Her photography is all set against local backdrops, from Fort George to the fishing villages of Carenage - made practically unrecognizable by the magic touch of her Wacon Tablet. She has also noticed the recent proliferation of websites featuring the work of local artists. While lauding this new interest in the arts, she urges new photographers to really take the time to learn their craft, especially PhotoShop, inside out. “Don’t copy any one else’s style!” she appeals. “Make sure your work is really polished before you showcase it”.

In an island where social encouragement for the arts is lackluster, and art itself is hardly regarded as “real business”, Laura Ferreira is the quintessential study in following your dreams and working hard to achieve success. She advises other young entrepreneurs to hone their ideas, and not to be afraid of being different. She is a driven, passionate woman who is not without her moments of discouragement. Emails come in from as far as Hong Kong and Dubai from people who have been inspired after seeing her work on the internet, yet it is the support of her family and friends, especially her boyfriend Kristian that keeps her motivated. Business is demanding, yet this is her calling. She sums it up perfectly when she says,” If you’re good at what you do, you have to go for it!”

Here are some more samples of her work. (You can also go to her website which will be prominently displayed on our Recommended Links Section!)

1.30pm- meeting with Petrotrin project managers to prepare for a teleconference with a foreign contractor.

As I sat there sipping on a Coke barely listening to these adults squabble over an issue as extraneous as the ice caps melting, my mind wandered through glorious memories of university days. The night before a Philosophy examination, my cohort and I spent hours preparing for that tedious test. Darkness faded to make room for the blinding daylight and we found ourselves out my front door blazing a couple cigarettes in a sub-temperate climate continuing our discussion about how people take so many things for granted without ever putting forth any rational consideration. The issue, at that moment, lingered around a simple phrase: the rising sun. We both knew that the sun does not in fact rise; rather the rotation of the world causes the illusion of the sun rising from the East.

Language is the cause of many misconceptions we hold. A mere thousand years ago, English was created from Germanic dialects to form what was once Old English. Yet still the world has created a common foundation to stand upon, and it is now perhaps the most commonly spoken language on the face of this earth.

My memory prevents the source, but I once came across an illustration in which a priest was reviewing some historical texts and gasped at what was perceived as being a misconception- the simple difference, the ‘what if’ of ‘celibate’ and ‘celebrate’. What if priests were supposed to ‘celebrate’ and not ‘be celibate’?

The Aptitude of Tranquillity
1. French Connection United Kingdom religion

Most religious texts today have English translations. Many believe that Adam and Eve were cast out of Paradise for failing to abide by the law. Hell, I wish I could cast people out of this world for breaking laws. And many believe that the two aforementioned were the first human beings on earth and therefore the parents of the world. So they had some kids and then what? And then the kids screwed their mom. Ever thought about that? THEN WHY THE HELL DO YOU BELIEVE THAT NONSENSE? Every religion that idolizes that story of creation therefore advocates what we term ‘incest’.

Furthermore, the Bible strings this six-day creation of the world in which the Almighty develops the universe, the seas, plants, animals and human beings. Scientific evidence has proven the existence of dinosaurs. Somewhere in the creation story, animals and man were created a day apart or something like that. So, could anyone provide a theory for man surviving the wrath of all-those-sauruses? I mentioned that in a Theology class at SJU and was rebuffed by the professor stating that a ‘day’ for God isn’t necessarily twenty-four hours. If that were the case, that would fortify my notion that people take things for granted. How long is a day?

Ever realized that all the worldly strife has religion behind it? The days of Jesus, the dominance of the Romans, the Holocaust, the abuse of the Middle East etcetera.

Quite frequently, I hear people talking about superstitions. Once again, as my memory fails, someone once told me that superstitions get strength from peoples’ belief in them. The more you believe in nonsense, the more realistic that nonsense will become.

3.30pm- packed away my laptop and headed to the door, leaving the project managers squabbling over the same issue

The meeting had not ended, but Champions’ League football was about to start (or so I thought).

The Aptitude of Tranquillity
2. Channel your emotions

In high school, I felt repressed by sometimes demanding parents that were not satisfied with my low grades in school. This was not helped by my straight As’ sisters who constantly outshone me when it came to academics. In order to prevent frustration developing, I stuck around in school on afternoons to play basketball with schoolmates and other random strangers who visited Presentation College after school for a ‘sweat’. It’s surprising now to look at youths and wonder what could really be causing frustration and anger. Life is so ridiculously easy! Everything is laid down for you and all that needs to be done is to locate a decent pathway! That’s one of the fuels of my interest in law- everything is already written down!

I knew then that if I stayed in school late, played basketball, exhausted myself, went home and slept, I wouldn’t be in my parents’ face for them to get upset! And in the process, I developed quite a talent for the game and by my last year in high school, playing basketball became an exhilarating experience.

The Aptitude of Tranquillity
3. There is always a door out

Although I never took part in any competitive football, it was the first sport I started playing. From that developed my interest in the game and my undying love and support for Manchester United over the last twelve years.

Hence the reason I left the meeting early and headed home, hoping to evade traffic. Of course our lovely Water And Sewerage Authority idiots decided that three in the afternoon was a good time to excavate the already bad road, which obviously created complete chaos. My eyes drifted to the right and realized that cars were still passing me on the right and going along their merry way. I followed suit and got home, paying close attention to a bright orange car that had been two cars ahead of me, and as I passed the cause of the congestion, was still sitting there.

The Aptitude of Tranquillity
4. When you’re right, shut your mouth. When you’re wrong, open your ears.

It is as basic as that. Think of yourself as nothing, as no one, and listen to what everyone else says. Donald Trump, in speaking about his father in his book How To Get Rich, mentioned that his father once stated that in learning ONE new thing, he realized how much he did not know. People are not inherently bad. People will not give you instructions to build a bomb that will detonate in your face. Forget what you’ve learnt, and what you think you know. Think about The Da Vinci Code. You never thought Jesus could have had children, did you? Think about what was The World Trade Centre. Never thought it would come down, did you?

As I opened the door and put on the television, I was surprised to see that seventy minutes of the football game had already gone. I thought the game was starting at 3.45pm, but since the game was being played in Italy, I was supposed to deduct another hour from the scheduled television kick-off time. I was blatantly wrong, a simple error, so I sat down and listened. As soon as the game finished on one channel, it was replayed on another channel. And thus I witnessed the Red Devils demolish the Roman Empire. Just wait till they come to Old Trafford next Wednesday. I’ll be there at 3.45pm. We put seven goals on them last season. I say eight this time around.

The Aptitude of Tranquillity
5. Strive towards autonomy

It is truly a thrilling feeling to be entirely independent. I’ve seen friends be dominated by girlfriends/ boyfriends and wives/ husbands, parents and siblings. When you’ve got your own place, your own food, your own money and your own car, you have your own life. No, I’m not saying be a hermit. You will realize that when you call all the shots in your life and nobody tells you what to do, how much calmer life becomes. You make all the decisions. You decide how much time and consideration has to go into saving, spending and allocating resources towards anything in your life. You will also realize that stress in life comes from someone else.

As Manchester United dominated their away leg, I sit here anxiously awaiting the roar of the Old Trafford faithful next week. In the meantime, I’m constantly opening doors, toying with beliefs, questioning the unquestionable, conceiving new possibilities, and exploring the pathways that have already been set down. Why worry? As the Barenaked Ladies once said, it’s all been done before!

In recent months T&T has entered the generation of broadband internet for the mass market. I am not sure of the numbers or the distribution but I am pretty sure that in months/years to come we would be in the midst of our own little technological revolution. A lot of T&T related sites - like this one - are popping up everyday as a testament to the increasing audience. In this short post I want to show how a potential time waster could turn out to be a savior for some of our youth.

I myself fall victim to the facebook vacuum when I get bombarded by emails telling me who poked, super-poked, messaged, added, tagged and left messages on my wall. I am not going to knock people, like myself, who find some joy in the social aspect of the web. But as we all know, the web and computers are incredibly effective learning tools and we should begin taking advantage of them from that perspective.

People cry about the education system in T&T and lament about its ineffectiveness and to those points I totally agree. Our education system needs a lot of work. However, while we protest and lobby for these changes we can help ourselves. It was not until I heard Richard Feynman in an interview that I realized what education should mean to me. Richard is world renowned physicist and Nobel Prize winner (for quantum electrodynamics) who, at a very young age developed an intense curiosity about the world and how things work. I think his success is mainly due to his interest to go beyond the classroom and actively pursue things that interested him.

With that in mind, I am giving you a window into the non-elite world of online crusaders called autodidacts. The sites listed below are your portal into any subject field your heart desires.

DISCLAIMER: There will be no pieces of paper/certificates describing your self-worth after reading these online materials and taking these FREE online courses (courses that usually cost upwards of TT$ 500,000). You may however, become an expert in many fields.

Techology

• Ted - definitely my favorite
• Google Tech Talks
• Fora Tv
• Google Code University

Free University Courses… and some other stuff

• MIT OpenCourseWare
• Stanford on iTunes aka Stanford to go…
• University of California OpenCourseWare
• University of Southern Queensland OpenCourseWare
• TUFTS OpenCourseWare
• Utah State OpenCourseWare
• McGill Cool
• Open Course Ware Consortium
• Open Culture
• Free Online Education
• Free Online Education
• Free Science Online
• Small Business Development Center
• Berkeley Webcasts & Courses
• Open Learning Initiative
• Open Learn
• Some videos of Richard Feynman

News for Tech Nerds like me…

• Digg
• Reddit
• Slashdot

Other stuff

• Zen Habits
• Mango Languages - Learn up to 12 Languages
• Fix it Club
• How Stuff Works
• Documentaries Online
• 101 Best Books - the perfect library

I challenge you all to pick up something you always wanted to do, or to try something new. In addition to that, this list could grow with your help. If there are sites that you frequent for educational purposes feel free to leave it in the comments or send it to me otherwise so that I can add it in.

Matthew

“While it is true that we, as a nation, are endowed with enormous financial capital we cannot make the same claim for our social and cultural capital”
- Dr. Selwyn R. Cudjoe.

Have you heard about the Gingerbread house? A few months ago, neither had I. The latest fiery debate on our shores centers on the Boissiere House at 12 Queen’s Park West, famously known as the Gingerbread House. Apparently the quaint (though rickety) testament to Victorian architecture has been listed for sale on craigslist.com for an asking price of US $10 million (TT $63 million). As soon as the news surfaced, the uproar was deafening. We selling out our culture, they said, we’re selling our sense of self! At that price it’s clear that unless the government steps in, that house will be torn down to make way for another imposing glass and steel corporate office. Are we hurtling full steam ahead to Vision 20/20 without sparing the time to preserve anything for the future? To a generation where the cultural identity of this country has become grey matter, is anything even worth saving?

For years I drove around the Savannah on my way to school, totally oblivious to the crumbling remnants of our history which loomed sadly on the sidelines. The only buildings which got a second glance were the Magnificent Seven, and this was more for the state of decay these once majestic structures had succumbed to than any particular aesthetic effect or historical eminence. It never struck me that these buildings had the story of our country sunken deep into their walls. I’m not sure at what point I began to appreciate the intricacy of the architecture – or saw beyond the worn plaster and corroding mortar. Since I was small I was conditioned to think anything old was worthless. We were a progressive country, and should strive to be as modern and advanced as those foreign cities we gazed at on television. Onward ever, backward never! Right?

Proponents for preservation of the house cite a dire need to conserve our historic and artistic treasures, which the Gingerbread House embodies. Interestingly, it’s not only the older traditionalists who are decrying the sale of the Gingerbread House. Many younger people have lent their voice to the fray, such as Nicholas Laughlin, who is actively working to build public support against the sale of the house to anyone with designs on demolishing it. This is an increasingly socially conscious Guevara-influenced generation, one which takes an active stand (gasp!) against corporate ills. Yet there are may others who steups and mutter about sentimental fools who are quick to protest and are ignorant about the boost to the economy getting rid of a ramshackle old Victorian house will provide. This is the problem with a society going forward and shaking off the ties of a colonial past. What will we do with the building? Use it as a museum to display the Eric Williams Collection, as Erica Williams-Connell endorses? The issue of preservation brings our culture into query…what does it really mean to us? What can we really claim to be our own – and do we really want to hold on to artifacts which remind us of a past when we did not belong to ourselves…buildings built on the backs of slaves?

Indeed, many things come into question, and I can’t say who’s right or wrong. The fact remains that in the here and now, we are in danger of losing buildings which speak of our history in all its bittersweet glory. Our surroundings no longer tell rich stories, but have become bland and expressionless – illustrating a culture and people sinking into transience. Preservationists are appealing to the National Trust of Trinidad and Tobago to enforce legislation which will see the Boissiere House being listed as a “property of interest”. Regardless of my thoughts on colonialism I see this as an imperative move. We are embarrassingly behind other islands such as Jamaica and Barbados in establishing Government protection for properties of historical importance, and even now legislation seems to be hopelessly tied up in bureaucracy. Incredibly, not one property - not even the National Red House! - is listed as a protected property.

The Elliott family which now privately owns the house has spoken of their regret at having to let go of the house. Yet, the system has let them down with regard to public aid to prevent the physical deterioration of the property. It seems we only care about our “national treasures” when the ugly reality of a white-washed, faceless six-storey edifice slaps us in our faces. We can actually do something about it though. If you feel strongly about preserving our national heritage express your thoughts in letters to the editor – better yet write to your local government representative or the President himself. Don’t give into the laziness in you that’s telling you it won’t make a difference. Nicholas Laughlin has established a website, www.caribbeanfreeradio.com/boisseire where you can sign the petition to enforce protective legislation. This petition is directed to the Prime Minster. There are voices on that site which express a lot better than I can how important this house is – architecturally, artistically, historically – to so many people and to our country.

Sources:

Caribbean Free Radio
TriniCenter
Newsday

So, as with all other months past, I ventured to Hi-Lo to buy groceries…

I buy groceries for me and me alone; Nemo does not eat crix and vienna sausage and ting… ME ALONE!

Before I went to the grocery, I made a list…I decided that I was sticking to the list so that I can maintain a decent grocery bill and that the extras weren’t necessary. These days, I look at them more as “treats” and “special items”…

Due to the high costs of meat, and since it is also Lent; I have decided that I’m cutting out meat in my diet… Soya and seafood right through…I didn’t need any soya cuz I still had in a pack that I bought form PriceSmart (and yuh know PM sells their goods in BULK)… anyhoos I digress…

So NO meat… therefore my bill should be even MORE decent right???

Instead of saying I want eggs, I have a half dozen left in the fridge already, so I don’t NEED eggs…

Instead of saying I want flour, I have some remnants of flour in the fridge too, so I don’t NEED it, I will make do…

I have rice already… thanks PriceSmart… so I won’t need it in a while anyway…

Well I use veggies a lot, so I really do NEED some…good, some sweet peppers and carrots if you please… Cauliflower you say??? I pass it straight when I see the price…

I have garlic, I don’t NEED any more cloves… I have ketchup, I WILL MAKE IT LAST EVEN LONGER!

I bought yeast…you know why? So I can make homemade pizza and bread…with the cost of a Kiss loaf at $8.00 now… the same pack of flour at $8.00 will last longer (maybe that’s why I still have in my fridge)

Toothbrushes, soap, Breeze, bleach, salt… you know the BASICS…I NEEDED those, so in the trolley they went…

I drink a lot of water, so in goes an 8-gallon bottle of blue waters… I like juice… in goes FOUR cans of Trinidad Juice juices…

No Coke, Sprite, Cranberry juice (which I love)… I will make do with my water and juice I have to mix…

Then I reach the cold section…
And of course, as is the norm in Hi-Lo now, NO REGULAR RAT CHEESE… yuh know…the one wrapped up in the cellophane… I eh shame, I does buy it, it relatively cheaper than the “fancy shmancy” brands right?

But I NEED cheese… what else with Crix, and who eats cheese-less homemade pizza? So I look at the options…Veggie cheese? NOPE…

A SMALL PACK (and I mean SMALL) OF ANCHOR CHEDDAR CHEESE IS >$30.00 TT, AND THE LARGER RECTANGULAR BLOCK IS >$70.00 TT…

WTF?!

But I NEED it… so I settle for the smallest pack available… before even looking at the Edam and Gouda to see if I could buy those instead but the prices caused me to temporarily get deaf (don’t ask about my body’s response, but I swear I wasn’t hearing the other people in the grocery).

So, I place it in the trolley… and proceed, with a heavy heart to the cashier…

It’s my turn to cash now, and as the cashier swipes each item, I scrutinise the display screen, making sure there are no double entries, and to monitor the progress of the tally… with a heavy heart

What is my total… for groceries for a month, for ME ALONE, NO MEAT, just the BASICS, no TREATS, no SNACKS, what I NEEDED… Total = $560.00TT

I will make sure that all meh tings last thru the month, but I ask myself when I’m carrying my groceries back to the car (YES, I CARRIED ALL THE BAGS BY MYSELF, CUZ I WAS ABLE, CUZ THAT TELLS YOU THAT THERE WEREN’T MANY BAGS WERE THERE?)…what about the people who do not have stable jobs? Or who eke out a living to live, WHO HAVE CHILDREN!!!!!!!!!!

What am I really working for? To live paycheck to paycheck? To constantly mind my items when I’m at the grocery? To wonder all the time if it will get better? And even if I do get a bazillion-dollar paying job… WOULD I SEE IT AS OK NOW FOR ME TO PAY AN ARM, LEG, NECK AND BIG TOE FOR A MEASLY BLOCK OF CHEESE??? No I think not…

Imagine others in this so-called oil-rich country… If we so rich, and things so nice, how come is always a ketch-ass? I am fortunate to have a relatively well-paying job, but… my living expenses are horrendous!!!!! And it seems that this trend will continue!!!!

So I have decided that I will buy 2 cows and 10 chickens, make my own cheese, mind the chickens and, and continue to go up to Las Cuevas to buy fish DIRECTLY form the fisherman, plant a kitchen garden, and possibly make my own soap…

NOTE - NO COWS, CHEESE OR CHICKENS WERE HARMED DURING THE WRITING OF THIS PIECE…

Was your Carnival everything you hoped it would be? For the past four years I’ve been stuck in the cold, lamenting the fact that while I was suffering from nosebleeds and chapped fingers my countrymen were in the blazing sun, reveling in the glee of not having a care in the world – if only for a few days. Last year while listening to Red967fm online from my computer at work I dug my fingernails as hard as I could into the palm of my hand to stop myself from crying. I’ll never forget how desperate I felt being twenty-five hundred miles away from home – already fighting the throes of winter depression! – and hearing my people crystal clear on the airwaves singing in unison, “we rea-dayyy, we rea-dayyy…!” to Machel’s Jumbie. It was so clear to me then that Trinidad was where I belonged, and come hell or high water I would be home for Carnival 2008!

So a lot of my friends were surprised, shocked, and even angry when I did the unthinkable – sold my costume and flew north, right back into the cold I detest. A lot of people escaped to Tobago or Barbados and it’s been highly debated what was off about Carnival this year – many blame the short season, others the lackluster soca. Fundamentally, I have to admit to myself – I just missed New York. Just like during school days when I would scoff at people sagely advising me to slow down and enjoy it – I’d yearn for it when it was over – I look back at my time in New York now and scratch my head at all the complaining I did, all the opportunities I missed. I spent so much time holding on to home I wasn’t able to appreciate the experience for what it was.

I have gotten off the plane and raced to beat the crowd at immigration in JFK countless times. But knowing that I’m not bound to stay brings up this crazy feeling – it almost feels like I’m home again. I’m here to surprise my boyfriend, and two of my best friends who live with him are in on the conspiracy. As I exit the taxi it’s into Rianna’s arms, who’s jumping around and shrieking excitedly in her pajamas, oblivious to the cold. And when I step into the apartment and throw off my jacket it’s like I never left. At the end of my stay when it’s time to get on the plane which will bring me back to Trinidad, there is not a trace of the electric excitement I used to feel when I was coming home for holidays. Home is where the heart is, and right now New York holds some of the people I love the most. I fall back into the New York lifestyle as easily as if I’ve awoken from a dream.

While thousands of Trinis and other fun-seekers converged in my country having a ball bidding farewell to the flesh, I was experiencing totally different landmarks in time. On Carnival Sunday a friend texted me from Maracas saying he knew I wished I was there on the beach instead on if in the cold. Ironically, I was on a beach too – as I walked towards the dazzling seashore in Atlantic City with my friends behind me and the cold, salty breeze stinging my cheeks, I felt like I was existing on a flipside of the same coin. Later that night the New York Giants football team crushed the New England Patriots in the Super Bowl, a historic event which brought thousands out to the street in a near Carnival-like frenzy. Most importantly for me, I was there for Super Tuesday, when my boy Barack Obama engaged in a grueling and nail bitingly close battle for Democratic delegate votes against his political nemesis, Senator Hilary Clinton in twenty two states. It was so surreal to think my friends at home were wukkin up with reckless abandon on Ariapita Avenue while I was a world away. This made me realize that we live so much more richly when we can open up to what’s outside our box.

There’s always been a sense of confusion when I think of New York and Trinidad. Many Trinis living abroad can feel me on the whole double-life existence – the alternate worlds. You live, work, love in an adopted country, then return for a few weeks or months to Trinidad where it seems life is almost as you left it last. Which life is real? Feeling like you’re torn between two places makes you feel almost like you have half an identity – different friends, different lifestyles in the respective places – are you really a complete person in both worlds? Spending Carnival in New York was seriously like stepping into an alternate universe, but when I touched down in Piarco I snapped back to reality. For now, heart and home may be existing separately – this is true for most of us. A wise man once told me that as we’re working to put things in place to unite the two, we shouldn’t downgrade the experience of one while it remains exclusive of the other. It’s important to realize that experiences are what we make them. Life is what you make it. So for those of you who will miss yet another Carnival next year…make the best of it! You’re never too far away from home. And if you’re going to be on the road for sure next year – I’ll see you there ☺

Let me start by thanking my
Mother… earth… to my Father
For planting his seed
Cuz indeed, it was fertile
So I succeed in growth
In the form of reeds
So you could read the quotes
And feel the notes
As I come to be what I wrote…
Poetry
In my roots
Written on the loose
Leaves of the birch
Where the birds and the bees never leave
But the ink from the pen
Is like the sap of the tree
Cuz it lives in the wood
That would be
A piece of paper later
If the lumberjack brings me down
Then he could be a player hater
In either form I’m getting pissed on
Put it like this
I probably wouldn’ exist
If… the Originator didn’ send his only son
To make my leaves go and come
With the seasons as I need them
To chlorophyll me up with the nutrition
From the light of the day shone
In the forest
Before I’m chucked like Mr. Norris
For deforestation
I’ll be a scapegoat
For the landscape
Portrait of the art
Representing the heart they put into me
The oxygen I put into them
So they could breathe
Now everybody wanna do me
Use me to fight for
What is right or
Write for what is wrong
Hear me tonight on stage at an open mic
Later I’ll be in a song that I hope you like
Hopefully I’ll take us all to a whole new height
And in the heat of the day
In my shade you would stay
And I might bear the fruits of your labour
So that you could savour
The taste of my flavour on your tongue
And due to the nature of this one
I came from the underground
Now I bow when the sky claps
With the thunder sound
And the greater that would come
Out of me will make you see what I see
Feel the joy I have brung
Sing the songs that I hum in the wind
For freedom
Til, no one is hung from my limbs
No pain and now i’m stained in your brain
And in the sign on your timb’s
And you wondering my name
How do they call him?
And the answer…
You probably already know it, see
Navy’s the master
But me, I am Poetry

Navy

Writer’s block… a lock on my mind
Mind you, I’m tryin to lock into
A hidden truth, I’m tryin to find
Use your senses, look for a sign
Around you… so round and round I look
Faces around the class look shook
They all face the same difficult questions
And no…It ain’t the same questions I ponder
Every hour… much less abstract without question
In fact though… perhaps… much more relevant
For pre-eminent in their minds, degree is the need
And Uni is that ultimate answer… but not in my mind
Mind you, you find I like no man…
With no home like a nomad
And since time waits for no man
And no man is an island
Anticipate in my time…
I will stand in isolation

I have often been advised, for reasons I don’t care (or dare) to go into, that only a true masochist will continue to put themselves into situations that ultimately render them heartbroken over and over again. But yet again, I find myself in a very uncomfortable, yet familiar circumstance, the morning I get on a plane to take me away from Trinidad. My heart is breaking, once again. And once again, it is my own doing.

This particular morning is playing out like a melodramatic Sunday School skit awash with cliché. It has been raining since 3 or 4 this morning. I get in the car and hear (no lie) “Lorraine, Doh Cry ah Leaving” on the radio and immediately burst into tears. My father looks at me like I have really gone mad this time. Not like he hasn’t seen this scene played out many, many times before. And yes, I am quite aware that I have a tendency towards the dramatic and a gift for hyperbole. However, please understand that I speak the plain, understated truth when I say that each time I leave Trinidad, a piece of my soul is torn from me.

I am not sure when it happens. It may occur when I leave my house for the last time, or as the plane speeds away from Trinidadian soil. But I am oddly aware of it when I arrive in New Jersey, and I feel like many of my synapses have lost the ability to fire, disconnecting me from that part of myself which has the highest capacity for excitement or jubilance. I am even more aware of it when the energy level rises in Trinidad. When people begin making Christmas preparations or when the new soca starts gaining airplay, I can feel a disembodied vibration thousands of miles away, which anticipates my return to become a whole spirit once again. Without it, I feel deadened and numb, and that is no exaggeration.

And believe me this ent no carnival tabanca neither. Or does everyone else’s carnival tabanca last throughout the year? No, this is something so much deeper, so much more powerful than that. This is the thing my coworkers can see when I return from my trips with my country’s name dripping off my every sentence. I can just hear them thinking, “Oh God. Again we have to hear about this Trinidad? It’s been six years shouldn’t you have gotten over this by now? If you love it so much why don’t you just marry it?”

This is the thing people can hear when they ask if I’m going on vacation soon and I say (in a voice that is entirely too loud, too high and too filled with anticipation for normal social discourse), “I am not going on vacation, I am going home!”

This is the thing that causes my friends to say, “Kathryn, you believe in a Trinidad, eh!” when I extol its virtues even after they have highlighted its seemingly infinite flaws.

This is my relationship with Trinidad, that toxic lover I will never be able to see for what he really is, who I will never be able to let go of. Its magnetism is irresistible to me. And while I thought that it would become easier and easier to leave it as the years passed, entirely the opposite is happening. Every time I go back, Trinidad adds new enticements to his repertoire which make it that much easier for me to melt back into his embrace. My defenses are razed quickly and easily.

I love Trinidad even as he parades his relationships with his other fickle lovers in front my face. I both envy and abhor these flippant mistresses who can fly in and out for Carnival, have casual filings with my country, and not feel a thing afterward. They return to their grand fairytale romances with larger more glamorous cities, who offer delights Trinidad will never be able to match, and whose tantalizing temptations they ultimately succumb to.

I wish I could be so detached, but my entanglement with Trinidad is more codependent, more desperate. As aloof as I try to be, the allure of my country always breaks me down. Each time I am sucked into it again and each time the claws of my infatuation penetrate me deeper and deeper. Soon, all I remember of my long-term, totally satisfactory and dependable relationship with New Jersey are the negatives: its cold and abrasive nature; its friends and family I can’t relate to (especially that wild cousin New York…sometimes I just can’t keep up nah), not to mention that vague permeating odour I’ve been pretending to ignore…. Worse yet, as the days of bliss pass, I can no longer see the extensive list of reasons why Trinidad and I just can’t work. Usually, so obvious, the country’s heady intoxication has obscured them. I struggle to remember: our goals are conflicting; I become this clingy, pathetic mess around Trinidad, unwilling to let go, desperate to do anything to get a taste of that feeling I get when I am with him. Most importantly, we can just never get the timing right.

The last time I tore myself away from Trinidad, at Christmas, I decided that I had to return to him by age thirty, by which time we should have both matured. But now, after Carnival, that time when Trinidad pulls out all the stops to impress his lovers from all over the world, I wonder if I really have the strength to hold out that long. At this rate, the next time I come home may be the last.

As always I turn to my father for advice. His is the same as any level headed person’s: If it hurts so much, stop flirting with the feeling. Stop coming home so much. But how can I? My melodrama surfaces: “You might as well ask me to stop breathing!” To ignore that part of my soul wanders the streets of Port of Spain, waiting for me to return to reunite with it every few months, if only for a few exquisite days, seems to be a sin against myself!

So my heart will continue to break at least twice a year (more if Bwee have a special) until I cannot physically take it anymore. My lone comfort lies in the fact that as difficult as our relationship has always been, as many times as I have gone back and left, bruised and battered from self-inflicted heartbreak, Trinidad always takes me back.

Done. Carnival is over. Now we can get back to our daily routines of killing, stealing, bad driving, speeding, littering. Not you? You don’t break any laws? And the severity of ’stabbing’ someone is not for the Minister of National Security to classify.

As the headlines of our nation’s daily newspapers return to the usual murder and suicide, my mind wanders through the perspective of religion and recalls a conversation with a gentleman telling me about his family. Hindu man with a Muslim wife, consecrated with Hindu children and Muslim children-in-law.

But what good is religion? Jesus Christ was persecuted for having a different perspective two thousand years ago. Six million European Jews were killed in the midst of the twentieth century. Muslims were brandished terrorists in recent times. And most people ridicule Hindus based on ignorant beliefs that Hindus believe in more than one God. As a matter of fact, only two out of ten people I asked knew that Hindus are monotheistic- and they were both Hindus!

Martin Luther King Jr. once said that there is nothing in the world more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity. It seems our refusal to listen creates a stepping-stone for immorality and hypocrisy. Muslims find some kind of ‘glory’ in believing that they are the only monotheistic people with a holy book that has remained unchanged (albeit in a language that most people cannot speak!). They criticize Christians for venerating the Cross and other monuments, claiming that Christians worship idols and not God. Yet still, every year without fail, you see them parading around the Ka’aba in Mecca (that big cube-ill-ding) as if that isn’t similar to Christians revering the Cross. Thousands of Christians, on the other hand, were wining and throwing waist left, right and centre on Monday and Tuesday gone, and so many Catholics showed up in church on Wednesday to get Ashes and prepare to ‘fast’ for the next forty days. Who are you really kidding? How do you expect anyone to be moral if our minute country is littered with hypocrites? How do you expect your children to grow up if worthy examples are not illustrated for them? And no, that doesn’t mean the ONE Michael Jordan or ONE Princess Diana. It means YOU!

As far as I am concerned, every religion on the face of this earth has failed miserably. According to the Central Intelligence Agency (who I wouldn’t even believe anyway because they are the same idiots that have the world now thinking that it is Bush who mad and Saddam who sane) religion populations are broken down as follows:

• Christians: 33%
• Muslims: 21%
• Hindus: 13%
• Other religions: 11%
• Non-religious: 11%
• Buddhists: 5%
• Atheists: 2%
• Sikhs: 1%
• Jews: 1%
• Baha’is: 1%

And the world’s population is more than six and a half billion. An analyst for the United National Congress of the People’s National Movement would say that Christians win out with a greater percentage. True. But, in layman’s terms, how would you feel to know that more than four billion people simply choose not to follow your religion?

Is religion really a way of life? That is most people’s ‘reason’ for following one. But hey, vagrancy is also a way of life. And the stark reality is that we all detest vagrancy. Except those foreigners who were liming by Smokey & Bunty’s on Carnival Monday and Tuesday and were having a good wine with the vagabonds. Once again, ignorance is bliss, isn’t it? What we don’t know would never hurt us!

The Social Learning Theory, as quoted in Juvenile Delinquency- The Core (Siegel, 2002) reads, “Some behaviourists hold that learning and social experiences, coupled with values and expectations, determine behaviour. This theory holds that children will model their behaviour according to the reactions they receive from others; the behaviour of adults, especially parents; and the behaviour they view on television and in movies.”

It was only recently did I sit down and listen to Shaggy’s Church Heathen. It’s ironic how some of the music we blare from our speakers tells us of right and wrong, yet we continue doing the same nonsense. And it is truly sad to see the lyrics that incite our benefaction and the artistes that generate our dynamism. The sad reality is we will become nothing more than we are now if we continue living in this society of mendaciousness. As an author, I can rattle off the same theories that have been stated before me. Obviously if the same things keep resurfacing, society is making the same mistakes.