What I Saw While Walking

On Saturday, I took a taxi into San Fernando, to be picked up so I could help paint the apartment that was to become mine (which was a surprisingly meditative/relaxing job I think because it required just enough focus to wholly empty my mind of anything else). As I walked the promenade from the library to the hospital, this is what I saw.

I had a little ways to walk, as I had taken a maxi down because it was the first taxi I saw. Not that I minded, but by the time I reached the library and the promenade, sweat had already started running down my back and I realized a cotton shirt may not have been the best of ideas. I passed cafes and open bars (open meaning wide open to the street, not free like at weddings), vendors with tables on the street selling pirated DVD's and video games. Sometimes in Trinidad men will call out to me as I walk alone, but that's common and becoming easier to ignore. It begs the question--they often are so lewd and leave me with a feeling of disgust; do they ever really get any that way? But I digress. I was happy to get to the library, a dusty brick red and large Southern-style building, and the beginning of the promenade.

The traffic on the promenade is ususally chaotic on weekdays, parents dropping their kids off to school and taxis shuttling people to work cause congestion in the middle that is compounded by cars trying to turn in or out. Saturday though was no problem. The fruitstands where I buy my bananas for the week were open with their selection of grapes, apples and bananas creating a canopy of primary colors over a small segment of sidewalk. (Ironically, none of this food is local. The apples I bought at the supermarket still come from Washington, too.) I passed a homeless man lying in the shade of the Marcus Garvey statue across from the food court. I passed a homeless dog with dirty sandy-colored fur, slight sores, and swollen nipples from a recent litter and paused to be sure she was breathing. I passed the statue of Ghandi around whose neck some had put some brightly flowered leis that make me smile each time I pass, and the curb where faithful Jehovah's Witnesses stand in the evenings. As the hill crested, the sparkling blue ocean with it's oil tankers anchored offshore came into view, and I couldn't help smiling again. To quote Dar Williams, "Oh I must confess I was drawn, I was drawn to the ocean..."

I paused at the bottom of the hill, the place where you choose whether to turn left onto Indpendence Avenue (the way I always take to get to work) or to turn right and head either to High Street or to the ocean, so that I could call to get my ride. I found a curb in the shade and sat down, drinking some water. A homeless man who had been pacing and preaching, with a beard and dirt blue pants, looked at me and begun talking about having water and how Jesus gave to those without drink. My first thought was that he wouldn't want my water bottle because I'd been drinking out of it for days. Then I realized he was probably thirsty and wouldn't care for how long I'd had it, just that it was water. And finally, I realized that his preaching was an outlet for voicing his anger at how unfair it was that I had water and could get anything I wanted, and he was on the street--asking why, in the same way I often do. Next to me, a man was lying on a bed of cardboard, but he was regally dressed and counted what seemed to be a reasonable amout of cash, so I wondered why he was there. On my other side, a single young East Indian man held his head in his hands and rocked softly in the same rhythm the couple on his other side were as they held one another.

I finally continued, opting to take the long route to the back of the hospital because I had the time and liked the walk. I passed a man who I'd often seen at the corner as I waited for a taxi, recognizable with his bare feet, bushy beard, and visible ribs. He was asleep half in the shade on the hospital sidewalk. I paused a minute to be sure he was still breathing. Another, well-dressed woman sat on a box under an awning; as I passed she called out "Good afternoon!" until I replied, and proceeded to tell me to be careful, and not to talk to strangers unless I have to. I walked away laughing, passing the barbed wire where I had torn my skirt the week before on the way to the embassy and Port of Spain, past the ferry terminal and bus station, past an abandoned car, until I reached the hospital and my ride.

I see things like that often; it's part of why I love to watch. Work has been quiet, but I am enjoying getting to know people. And as I said in the beginning, I have an apartment into which I moved on Sunday evening (funny story...I called at 3:30 to get a sense of how things were working so that I could plan on when to pack, and she said to call her in an hour and it would be ready. An hour and a half later, after running around and wondering how on earth I got all this stuff here to begin with, I called her back, and by 6 I was in the apartment unpacking). I love the place. It's two bedrooms (so you can all come visit! Though unfortunately, the AC unit is in my room...), with AC and everything. It's a bit pricey, which caused some chaos, but thankfully, because I loved the place and the landlady and she liked me as well, she helped me out a bit and after I promised I wouldn't change my mind again, she took me (not a moment too soon, as the night I gave my deposit, someone else would have come). I am happy there, and it is nice to have a place to call home. Plus, like I said before, the landlady is pretty awesome and lives below me, which adds a sense of security.

Peace and blessings to you all! Thanks for listening :)