March 25, 2013

Giving Up For Lent

By trinijax

Today marks the beginning of Holy Week for Christians. As the Lenten season draws to a close I am reflecting on my forty plus days of going without. This year I decided to forgo meat. A popular choice but not an easy one for me as my diet consists of 98% chicken. Perhaps this explains why my feathers are easily ruffled.

As it turned out, going meatless was relatively stress free and I wondered – how does modern day abstinence compare to times of old? It used to be that giving up meat, alcohol, sweets, or…ahem…other pleasures, was considered sacrifice enough.

Times have changed.  According to a recent survey conducted by the UK Church Times, traditional Lenten abstinence is highest among students and people in their early 20s and declines steadily with age. Surprised? I was. Even more surprising is what young people choose to give up – swearing, online shopping, and social networking. Lenten abstinence takes on a whole new meaning when one announces “I’ve given up Facebook for Lent”.

My first thought – no big deal. Online shopping I could do without – God knows my credit cards could use the rest – but swearing? That might pose a few difficulties for me.  Remember, I live with Cirque de Westcott. Repeat – CIRQUE DE WESTCOTT.  Expletives are seldom far from my thoughts as I come to grips with my family’s latest exploits.

As for giving up social networking,   consider the difficulty in trying to prise a laptop or smart phone away from a teenager. In my house that involves the use of Extreme Force and more often than not I find myself wishing I had a taser. I vividly recall a Christmas vacation spent in a lovely cottage in England without telephone or internet. The children were rabid by the end of the first day.

Has our need for constant access and accessibility become the New Vice? How often do we encounter someone without a cell phone these days? It is practically unheard of, and on the rare occasion when it does occur, we regard the individual with shock and awe, unable to comprehend how they get through the day. Forty days without whatsapp or Twitter might be a stretch after all.

Whenever I choose to ignore my telephone for whatever reason, I am rewarded by increasingly hysterical voicemail messages from family and friends: “I called, texted, whatsapped, bbmed, tweeted, and Facebook messaged you! Why didn’t you answer me?” Being “off the grid” has temporary advantages but could I do it for an extended period of time? I’m not so sure. For starters I’d never remember anyone’s birthday without Facebook. Isn’t that the purpose of Facebook? Birthday reminders and opportunities to gawp at friends’ photos?

Lent is not an endurance test. It is a chance to examine our lives and look for the temptations that we could resist. Or so I thought. According to some persons polled by the Church Times, the meaning of Lent is:

  • A time for giving things up
  • A Christian festival
  • A diet before important holidays
  • A type of tropical fish
  • How the EU is keeping Greece afloat (These are real answers).

Maybe the younger generation is on to something. Traditional sensory pleasures have been replaced by the allure of the internet. In giving up the internet, social networking or even just the use of a mobile phone, this represents a real sacrifice for some. The point of the sacrifice – giving up something we really want or need – is to draw us closer to God. Perhaps next year I’ll give up Twitter; half-killing myself in the process and definitely drawing me closer to my maker.

What’s your guilty pleasure? What are you prepared to give up?

Tell me your thoughts.

 

 

3 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , , , | posted in Cirque de Westcott

March 4, 2013

Who Will Attend My Funeral?

By trinijax

Life has been a bit grim lately and it is reflected in my writing. As I explained to someone, I have no control over what I blog. The thoughts come and I chase them to the keyboard. I haven’t lost my sense of humour. That’s harder to shift than a politician in the limelight – but my musings are currently not trotting down the laugh track. Trying – truthfully somewhat unsuccessfully so far – to channel my inner Maya Angelou: “No matter how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.”

 

Life After

Recent events have me thinking about what will happen when I die. No, I don’t mean the hereafter. I’m a Christian (Anglican with a capital A, to be precise) and I believe in the afterlife. I know I will see my loved ones after I’ve passed on.  What I am talking about is the sequence of events once I’ve departed – specifically my funeral. Who will attend?

I did a rough count in my head of the likely suspects. I reckon about fifty people. Surprisingly, when I analysed the attendees I realised most of them would be people who felt obliged to my parents, husband or children. Less than 40% would be attending for me.  This got me thinking – what does this say about me as a person? Is it that I have made so little impact on the world that my passing will be relatively unnoticed? Or have I lost my identity and am now seen only as somebody’s wife/mother/daughter?

Further questions arose. Why do we go to funerals? Of the funerals we attend, how well do we know the deceased? What did they mean to us?  I came to the conclusion that my attendance at the vast majority of funerals has been as a result of my connection to the family of the deceased. Most of those who passed I knew peripherally at best.   Perhaps this is a good thing. It implies that in my lifetime I have lost few persons I truly loved. But it also implies that I attend funerals principally out of a sense of duty – and I’m sure I am not alone in this.

The aha moments kept coming. So….if I don’t know the people whose last rites I attend very well, how well do the people who (may) attend mine know me? Despite my dependence on the internet (OK, so I need a twitter or FB hit to get through my day), the truth is – not many. I share what I feel comfortable with the world knowing. The inner me is very private. Which leads me back to the original question – who will attend my funeral? Is the number of attendees a reflection of my life?

Experience leads me to think emphatically yes. But I’ve also realised that it is not necessarily how many people you impact, but why. If only three people attend but they are people to whom I truly meant something, and who I have influenced positively in some way, my life was not wasted. The death is not important. It’s the life that matters.

And therein lies the answer to my question. I should not be concerned with who, but why. Luckily I figured this out while I still have time to impact the eventual outcome. A life lesson learned…through death.

Care to share your thoughts on this topic?  Comment away.

3 comments   |  tags: , | posted in Cirque de Westcott

February 20, 2013

Two little girls

By trinijax

This blog post is a departure from my usual witticisms and rants. I’m sorry to disappoint my regular readers but I had a life changing experience yesterday. Talking about it is difficult but for some inexplicable reason, I find myself compelled to write. Maybe this is part of the healing process.

Inane crazed musings will resume…soon.

The Sister I Never Had

Yesterday my best friend SA passed away. I don’t know where I am on the seven stages of grief but I suspect I’m still in shock and denial.  Today I don’t want to think about death. I’d rather reflect on the treasure trove of memories SA and I built over a friendship that spanned 36+ years.

On a warm September day many moons ago I joined 104 other young girls and their parents in the auditorium of St Augustine Girls High School for Form One registration. I recall nothing about that day except this – the principal asking the assembly to acknowledge the girl who had achieved the highest mark in the entrance examination.  As I turned to look at the pretty girl dressed in red with the big smile I remember thinking – that’s the girl I have to beat. Over the next seven years I would occasionally match but never surpass SA’s academic achievements. She was quite simply, the smartest girl I knew.

In a friendship that grew from childhood to adulthood we shared everything – disappointments, triumphs, celebrations, and heartaches. Our conversations evolved from whispers about first kisses at the back of the classroom and furtive notes hastily written on torn scraps of paper, to late night conversations on childcare and the directions our lives were taking. Every school experience, painstakingly written letter, phone call, text message, email, Skype call, girlie vacation, and raucous night out brought us closer together.

What didn’t I share with SA? Not much. She was my sounding board, advice columnist and favourite liming partner. Being born a month apart, every birthday and milestone was a reason to celebrate together. If I were to line up all the bottles of wine and champagne we’d shared over the years….I doubt one landfill would suffice.

Many a time we rescued each other and she quite literally saved my life. Separation by distance did little to dim our friendship. Somehow we slipped seamlessly from innocence to womanhood without losing the candour and strength of our bond. Out of all my friends she was the most like me. SA fully understood my complex family relationships; like me she strived for more and struggled with periodic bouts of self doubt. We comforted and supported each other.

Many people were baffled by the close nature of our friendship. SA was a perfectionist and could be intimidating. But I saw beneath the sometimes prickly exterior to the warm person inside – the nurturing mother and loyal friend who never missed an opportunity to lavish care and attention on those she loved.

We had great plans to meet in London last August for a memorable weekend of the kind we had become accustomed to over the years – lots of food, alcohol, and female bonding. When SA called the day before we were due to meet up to say she felt unwell I suggested rest and a check-up. She concurred and agreed to see a fellow professional (she was a doctor) the next day. I was not prepared for the phone call less than 24 hours later informing me that what we thought was a tummy bug was in fact cancer.

I last saw SA in person four months ago when I visited her where she eventually drew her last breath. We both knew the time was fast approaching. We said everything we had to say to each other and most importantly – expressed our love and gratitude for the positive impact we had on each others’ lives. Not many people get that opportunity and I know we were lucky. We maintained regular communication via Skype and text until three weeks ago when SA’s health deteriorated to the point that this was no longer possible. Today’s news was inevitable and expected; I monitored her condition to the end.

There are some people who enter our lives and despite their constant presence, their impact is minimal. That was not the case with SA. She significantly affected those around her. To paraphrase Senator Edward Kennedy eulogising his brother Robert Kennedy – she need not be idealised or enlarged in death beyond what she was in life; remember her simply as a good and decent woman who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it.

At some point the tears will come, but not yet. I am mindful of Rabindranath Tagore’s wise words – “If you cry because the sun has gone out of your life, your tears will prevent you from seeing the stars.”

To my beloved SA – thank you for a lifetime of friendship. I am a better person for having known you. Rest in peace.

7 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Cirque de Westcott

February 13, 2013

Fetiquette

By trinijax

“The bouncing done, the bouncing done, the bouncing done!”

Ash Wednesday and I’m recovering (slowly) from Carnival. I meant to post this last week but the partying got in the way. Use the Trinbago dictionary if you are struggling with the slang!

Fetiquette

Carnival season is a wonderful time in Trinidad and Tobago. The country buzzes with energy and a sense of excitement seems to engulf the whole population, irrespective of whether they take part in Carnival activities. The wonderful thing about Carnival in T&T is that it can be enjoyed at everyone’s level. You can spend as much or as little as you want to indulge your Carnival passions.

For many people the fun lies in attending the increasingly expensive all-inclusive fetes.  When I first returned to Trinidad as an adult, the average cost of an all-inclusive fete was circa TT$300 (US$50). Consequently I went to many such events. One memorable season when I was between jobs I hit eleven fetes.

Times have changed. Ticket prices shot up – $800 (US$130) is now considered reasonable for an all-inclusive fete ticket; especially in light of the Hyatt charging $3000 (US$500) to attend its LIME fete.  My income has…ahem…not kept up with the increase in ticket prices and I am now very discerning in my fete attendance.

Over the years I’ve come to understand the unwritten Fetegoers Code of Conduct, or Fetiquette that governs the all-inclusive party. There are many rules, but I’ll stick to the basic six which every feter should know.

Rule Number 1 - Arrive In Daylight

There are several reasons for this. After spending the equivalent of a Latin American GDP on clothes, shoes, makeup and hair, one needs to be seen.  Equally important is who one is seen with. Men want their peers to see the attractive arm candy (of either sex) standing in the shadow of their biceps. Women want other women to know

a)      I arrived with a man – stay away from mine; or

b)      I arrived without a man – hold onto yours; and

c)       I look good and I know it (I may be delusional).

As members of a bourgeois society, a significant percentage of fetegoers want people to know they can afford the exorbitant ticket prices. So what if they’re secretly living on bread and cheese? Update your Facebook status – “On my way to Salybia!” –  tweet about it, post a picture of your fete tickets on instagram, change your BBM and whatsapp status to “Having fun at… insert fete here”.

Rule Number 2 - Better Belly Bus Than Good Food Waste

The good stuff goes early and quick. Check out all the food options as soon as you arrive and decide which food queue to join first. If moving with a posse it may be wise to strategise. One person can queue for doubles, while another hits up the bake and shark stall, and you load up on Chinese. Always remember the fetegoers mantra – I paid for it. Eat everything. Leave it too late to eat and you’ll be lucky to get the pomerac chow no-one wanted.

Ironically, at a fete Trinis will line up in sun, rain and mud to sample cuisine normally rejected by their pets. The queue for horse meat at Old Hilarians’ All-Inclusive is always extensive. Take note Tesco.

Rule Number 3 – Bus De Bar

Start with the premium drinks and work your way down to puncheon. What is your mantra? I paid for it.

Rule Number 4 – Dress to Distress

Carnival fashion has nothing to do with style or modesty and the all-inclusive fete is the ultimate peacocking opportunity. Choose an eye-popping outfit you wouldn’t want your mother to see you in and make it worse. When it comes to Carnival fashion, more is more. To quote the Dowager Countess Grantham – nothing impresses like excess. Over accessorise – wear bangles, garish earrings, glitter, press on jewellery and have all your tattoos on display. Better still if you have gold teeth or a mouth grille.

Rule Number 5 – Control Your Property

Swappi  said it best – What yuh mean yuh cyar wine? Trinis are born knowing how to wine. It’s in their DNA. While other nationalities are learning the Three Rs in school, Trinbagonians are taking lessons in how to bubble and flex.  Trini men are programmed to track it, grab it, and wine on it. When soca music infects the brain it’s hard for women to resist the urge to put their hands on their knees and push it back.

Nothing Trinis like better than an opportunity to display their skills, but time and place people, TIME AND PLACE. You do not want to end up featured on the front page of the dailies doing the wheelbarrow.  Save the dutty wining for a private audience.  There is life after Carnival. Nobody wants to be remembered by their pundit/boss/peers for sending Shakira into early retirement.

Rule Number 6 – Spread Your Hands and Leh Go

Have fun! Whatever you end up doing for Carnival – partaking in the festivities, spending quiet time at home, or having a mini vacation – enjoy it to the max. YOLO is real. We get one shot at life and it is up to us to make it good. As I write this my neck, shoulders and feet are sore; legs are covered in unexplained bruises; and after two days in the sun I am so black I’m blue. Worth every minute.

Tell me your Carnival experience. What do you like/dislike the most about Trinidad Carnival?

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , , , , , , , , | posted in Trinbago Fabulous

January 30, 2013

It’s My Country and I’ll Rule How I Want To

By trinijax

The world is in trouble. Islamist rebels light it up in Mali. Guatemala court orders trial of former dictator. Government Ministers openly defy the Prime Minister in St Kitts and Nevis. Kim K has a wardrobe malfunction. The established rules of civilisation and government are not working. I’ve had enough of poor governance, rising crime, and worldwide idiocy.

My solution?  Start my own country. I have my eye on a tiny Grenadine isle. Think about it – my own private Paradise Island with white sandy beaches, lush vegetation, and the perfect year-round climate. There’s room for 2000 citizens. You can apply for citizenship once you meet the immigration criteria and agree to live by my rules. I promise to be a benevolent dictator. Who’s with me?

Forget about party politics, elections, coalition governments and minority opposition. There will be no need for any of that in the Republic of Abbuccet (pronounced Ah-buck-et). In fact, politicking of any kind will be banned and punishable by death. The Citizens Rule and Prosper party (CRAP) will be the only political voice permitted in the country.

Abbuccet’s legal system will be a based on a hybrid of martial and sharia law. I suspect citizens will have few problems obeying the law if stealing an orange results in losing a hand and driving on the shoulder warrants a gun butt to the head.

It goes without saying that citizens of Abbuccet will be taxed to within pennies of a full pay check. Independent wealth will come in handy. High taxes – a small price to pay for a government that provides the best of everything free – education, medical care, housing, childcare, weekly wine rations (It’s my country. I can do what I want and in my world wine is a necessity).

As all benevolent leaders should, I will keep the citizenry constantly informed of decisions that affect their day to day lives. They can voice their opposition of course. Free speech is welcomed. Opposers however, will be beheaded. Every town and village, no matter how small, will have a public execution square. Did you miss the part about mar-sharia law?

Imagine the benefits of living in Abbuccet. Mondays will be banned. Mandatory three day weekends and state funded BFF (Brain Fart Free) neighbourhoods. Kate Middleton’s visits to The Gap to buy leggings will not be reported as headline news. People will be paid to come up with good ideas that benefit society. Wasn’t that the point of democracy? It didn’t work.

I know you are dying to apply for citizenship but before you do, make sure you meet the criteria. There will be a non-refundable application fee of USD$100,000. What? A girl’s gotta eat. As proof of your commitment I’ll also need a minimum two strands of Patrick Dempsey’s hair. No I haven’t got a thing for Dr McDreamy but he looks like he could spare a few locks.

If you are a former or current politician, convicted criminal, reality TV star, or a Kardashian – don’t waste your time. You will not be welcome in Abbuccet. But if you are willing to work as part of a team to form a new society based on mutual respect   - and dedicate a room in your house to a Daniel Craig Shrine (my country, my rules), then show me the money. The application process will be swift and let’s face it – given the state of the world today, being ruled by CRAP in Abbuccet doesn’t sound half bad.

Help me develop a Citizens’ Charter. Please post your contributions in the comments below.

3 comments   |  tags: , , , , , , | posted in Rants

January 22, 2013

You Is Ah Gonian If

By trinijax

The recent Tobago House of Assembly election was a stark reminder of the many differences between Trinidad and Tobago. Tobagonians  are fiercely proud of their heritage and the election result – a resounding victory for the PNM – was further proof that Gonians will resist any attempt of perceived Trinidadian dominance. Tobago culture is an enigma to Trinidadians. To understand it, you have to be one of them.

Let me stake my claim to being half-Gonian thanks to a Patience Hill born-and-raised father. Despite spending most of my childhood in Trinidad, I didn’t gain Trinbagonian citizenship until adulthood. I  entered the world in England, Mother is a Bajan, and no-one in my family was born in Trinidad. So you see I’m really not a Trini at all. I’m a fake.

Having said that, I’m more Trini than Gonian and with typical Trini arrogance here’s my take on what defines the Tobago native. Use the Trinbago Dictionary if you need translations!

You Is a Gonian If…

…You eat crab and dumplings at least once a week

…You race your pet goat

…You can dance the Heel and Toe

…You believe Trinis are always in a hurry

…Six of your relatives share the same name

…You use words like ninyam “Meh put ninyam pon table” and pickney “Where mih pickney an’ dem?”

…You love a good Bongo Night

…You think all Trinis need to humble themselves

…You grew up chasing crabs on the beach

…You not-so-secretly want Tobago to secede from Trinidad

…Your uncle has a fishing boat

…You look forward to  Great Fete Weekend

…You never miss a village harvest

…You know nothing about cricket but would never admit this

…Half of your family works for the Tobago House of Assembly. The rest are in the hospitality industry

…Going to church is a social event

…When talking to two or more Gonians, Trinis can’t understand you

…You have 100,000 extended family members. 80,000 of them live in Tobago; 40,000 live in the USA, and one lives in Trinidad

…You exist in a different time universe to other nationalities. One Tobago minute = One hour elsewhere

…You can make a cook anytime, anywhere, with anything

…You know where to get pacro water and bois bande

…You dislike Trini politicians…in fact, anything Trini…

…You consider turtles to be unofficial wild meat

…You’re related to me!

1 comment   |  tags: , , , , , , , , , , , | posted in Trinbago Fabulous

January 14, 2013

Vampire Bytes

By trinijax

Regular readers of my blog and followers on Twitter know that I am a huge fan of The Vampire Diaries, the hit CW Network supernatural drama. I have written the occasional commentary on the show and last year I wrote an article entitled Is The Vampire Diaries Losing Its Bite? for my friends at TVAfterDark.

My latest Vampire Diaries  article is a review of Season 4 posted here on the TVAfterDark website. If you are into The Vampire Diaries click here to read the article. If you are not, please forward the link to someone who is and be sure to “like” the post.

Enjoy!

Vampire Diaries Season 4 – Mid Season Review

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January 11, 2013

Yuh Know You Is A Trini If…

By trinijax

I’m often asked by non-West Indians what distinguishes Trinidad and Tobago from other Caribbean nations. The answer is complex. The Trinbagonian love of partying and having a good time is well known, as is the country’s dependence on oil and natural gas for its main source of income.

There is a unique set of characteristics which defines the Trinbagonian  and sets him/her apart from Caribbean brothers and sisters. Within this character set are the subsets Trinidadian and Tobagonian. You would think that being a twin island state the differences between occupants of the two isles would be minimal. You would be mistaken. Trinidadians (Trinis) differ in many subtle ways from their northern neighbours. I’ve decided to document some of the differences, starting with the Trinis. For the benefit of those not familiar with Trini parlance, refer to the Trinbago Dictionary here.

Please add your own observations in the comments below!

Yuh Know You Is A Trini If…

…You never leave home without vex money

…You have an uncle named Junior and a cousin called Baby

…You can fete whole night and wake up for work the next day no problem

…You treat the shoulder on the highway as the real outside lane

…No meal is complete without the mother-in-law

…You take out a loan to play mas

…The back seat of your car is a set of speakers

…Everyone in your family has a home name

…Sunday lunch must include callaloo and macaroni pie

…You pitched marbles as a child

…You have no idea what an orderly queue is

…You sing lustily to every parang song but can’t speak Spanish

…Your ring tone is a soca tune

…You bathe pizza in ketchup

…You give every flu virus a name  e.g. “I was home sick with Section 34”

…Your smart phone cost more than your car

…You have at least one item of red clothing in your wardrobe

…You believe every sporting achievement should be rewarded with house, land, and a public holiday

…No drink is finished until you’ve eaten the ice

…You have KFC delivery on speed dial

…You can’t foxtrot, samba or waltz but you can wine, jook, jam, and palance

…Your favourite card game is All Fours

…You collect rain water in buckets for “in case”

…You put up new curtains every Christmas

…As soon as you jump on a plane to “go foreign” you lose the Trini accent

…You know everybody’s business

…Liming takes priority over all other activities, especially work

…You drink bush tea to cure every ailment

…Your pit bull knocked up the neighbour’s pompek

…Scotch and coconut water is your favourite drink

…You skive off work to watch cricket in the Oval

…You arrive two hours late for every event

…Last minute beating book got you through school

…You’ve been to New York more times than you’ve been to Tobago

…You support Manchester United and either FC Barcelona or Real Madrid

…Words like broughtupsy and bobol are part of your everyday vocabulary

…You can’t understand how all dem Jamaican and Bajan make the West Indies cricket team

…You take your pet bird for walks in its cage

…You know God is a Trini!

Leave a comment   |  tags: , , , , | posted in Trinbago Fabulous, Uncategorized

January 4, 2013

Don’t Panic, I am crazy

By trinijax

Greetings dear followers.

You may see some random words/numbers/bits of code etc appearing in recent posts.I have not been hacked and I have not been hitting the bubbly (ok – the first part of this sentence  is true). I am merely upgrading my blog and making it more accessible. After all, more people need to read about my functionally dysfunctional life,right? Right?

(I kind of expected to hear a distant cheer….oh well)

Leave a comment | posted in Uncategorized

January 4, 2013

By trinijax

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Continue reading

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