The next decade....what's in store?
Musings of a yamfooted traveller still trying to shake off those last 20 pounds as she treks across the Caribbean
Today, stopped by the pharmacy in Liguanea, same one I stopped at when the little boy begged me money and I gave him. As I parked the car, I noticed a young gentleman, in shirt and tie, holding a large Pepsi cup, standing just adjacent to the Pharmacy's entrance.
I got out of the car, and just as I was about to enter the pharmacy (I'll use common letters, I think that's the correct thing to do), he says "Hi". I stop, turn to him and very hesitatingly say hi back. He says "you look familiar". I peered at him and thought the same about him, and said as much, but couldn't place him. I said bye and went into the pharmacy.
When I came out, he came over to me and said "I need to get to Widcombe Road". And I lied and said "I'm not going that way". Well it's not really a lie....really....per se. Cause I didn't go that way. I went up Old Hope Road, but if he hadn't asked I would have gone in the direction of Widcombe Road.
So I asked myself if I had just turned away Jesus, it being Sunday and all, and me not having gone to church in a loooooooooooooooooooooooong time (apart from the funerals which don't count).
But then the next thing he said made me realize that following my instincts was the right thing to do. He said "ok, you know what you can do? If you give me $100, I can catch one of the taxis" !!!!!!!! I chuckled and said sorry, but I'm unemployed!
So this lead me to think that perhaps he's a druggie in disguise, or some other mental case, in which case (not the mental one), I wouldn't have wanted to have been alone in the car with him.
Did I do something wrong? What do you think?
That's the name of the fete me and Sis just came from at Mas Camp Village on Oxford Road.
We reached shortly after 11pm, place empty. Everybody standing around a big open space. Hour by hour we watched the space fill up, and people needed more room to flex their bodies doing the appropriate dance moves from the 70's, 80's and 90's. As well, more and more people piled in to the place. In fact, when we were leaving we saw a whole set of people outside trying to get in but not allowed to, since the place was by now ram packed with music loving folk.
You shoulda see them when the 'selecta' play some wicked dance hall music from last century. I was saying to Sis that I should have gone to more dances when I was younger.....woulda know how to do those dance moves, and would know the words to the song like how many of the folk did.
In the crowd, spotted two of the gym's trainers, also Gwyn who I used to have a huge crush on in the early 1990's. He used to bring me ice cream at work, and I used to bake pineapple upside down cake for him and give him in exchange. But that was as far as it went.
Well, Burro must be happy with the crowd he got tonight. I must tell you that when we first arrived, I thought that it would be saps, but it turned out to be quite ok. Oh, Burro is the hall name they gave to one of the promoters for tonight's fete - real name Jerome Hamilton from Manchester.
Tomorrow is cricket. No not the West Indies match silly. You learn not to watch those. I mean domestic cricket. Went to both Melbourne and Kensington today (no gun toting police there today). Dwayne Bravo who I had interviewed for the website, was playing for Kensington. He's Trinidadian.
ZZzzzzzzzzzzz
That should be special for any girl huh. But the visitor was a croako. Yup, one of them lizards....
Was sleeping, when I felt something brush against one of my arms. I said to myself "don't tell me that's a damn roach crawling on me". Got up, flicked on the light and didn't see anything.....until I turned over one of the two pillows I sleep with. The thing was about 3.5 inches long, and wriggled away behind the bed.
Now this is what is interesting. My reaction to it. I didn't scream, my heart didn't go 'boodoof baff baff'. I just smiled, said 'hi' (that's for you Dr D) and went back to bed with my head in the opposite direction. Didn't have any problem going back to sleep.
When my nephew saw me this morning, he asked why my head was in that direction, so I told him and he said "oh, he's back". Sis said, "oh yeah, it lives behind the drawers or somewhere like that". So it's a room pet I guess.
This morning, I turned over the bed, swept out under it, no lizard droppings anywhere. I think it's behind some pictures on the wall behind my bed.
No sweat. This is what I was telling Dr D on his weblog. That once you have a shift in perspective, it relieves stress. Three years ago, I would have probably sprayed out a whole spray can and poisoned mine and my nephew's lungs, I would have gone and slept on the couch and woken up with a neck ache. Instead, I told myself that the lizard wasn't doing me anything, even if it returned, and I didn't figure it would return. It was probably the frightened one. Imagine bucking up somebody the size of me!
And contrary to Jamaican folk tale, it does not stick to the body. Point proven!
If you read The Green Grip from my September 2003 archives, you'll see in the second to last paragraph what I said about the polka dot dress.
Well over the holiday weekend just gone, which was spent with the family at Holiday Inn in Montego Bay, I wore it.
This is how it looked on the hanger...
And this is how it looked on my body......
(No I'm not like Mad Bull and Dr D who will make the Whole Wide World know what dem look like. Some things must still be kept shrouded in secrecy!)
Anyway, I felt quite pleased with myself. 16 pounds and counting.
In 1979, Mummy was working at the conference on the then Intercontinental hotel in Montego Bay (now Wyndham Rose Hall). Every weekend, we would come down and stay in the hotel, that was for 5 weekends or so. The two nights would find us in the hotel's disco....Hellfire. Some great music, good crowd and generally a happening place. As my sister and I were in our early teens and hadn't started going out yet, this was a cool thing to be doing.
Here at the Holiday Inn, the disco is called Witches. They must have cast a spell on themselves, because last night I ventured in and yearned for a Hellfire experience. Reached, solo - Sis and Patch chickened out, circa 11:30pm to find a near empty disco. Worse yet, they had chairs, lots of them, all in a row, so people were sitting. Dance floor almost empty. I stood up for the bar for a bit, and watched the sights.
The first concern was the dress mode.
Ladies in slippers, fat ladies in short short micro minis, men in 3/4 pants, sweat suits, caps. Uugh. Merinos too. Ewwwww. Didn't anybody teach them to dress???
Eventually I plunked myself in one of the chairs. The DJ was clearly playing for himself and the Jamaicans. Pure rap/hip hop and dance hall. The bwoy wouldnt even get a hint. On playing Sean Paul and Sacha - which has more of a reggae beat - people flocked to the dance floor....what de bwoy do? Nuh change back to hard core dance hall tunes. Grand exit. Silly sod.
When, after about an hour, my skin couldn't sit still anymore, I got up and went by a column near the bar and started to ease into a jig. Now before this, I had been watching the singer who had performed after dinner. The man could dance, but he seemed to be with a female. I observed that the female had left, and that was when I got up. This was who I picked (unbeknown to him of course!) to be my dance partner.
What Yamfoot wants, Yamfoot gets and so after he went to the bar to get a drink, the fella (Newton) came over and said "why you dancing by yourself?". I replied "because nobody has asked me to dance". On cue, he asked me to dance. Kewl then. Lawks the bwoy have legs. Sweet sweet.
Chit chatted about how he got into the business. Turns out he went to Runaway Heart Hotel Training Institute and did the hotel course, used to work at Holiday Inn, decided he wanted to be in entertainment and so started doing that about 3 years ago. I only heard him sing one song, the last one, and he was quite good.
Danced until I was wet, then he went to talk to some other chicks and a merrino clad Black American in shorts came and beckoned to me, cause I can't call that asking me to dance, he sort of beckoned. Night club was about to close (2:00am) so I traipsed onto the floor for a last dance.
The DJ made no announcement. He just turned on the light. Oh geed, suck in that stomach. But thankfully I didn't turn into a pumpkin. I found Newton and he first thanked me for dancing with him, and I did the same and I wished him all the best in his career. You can tell he was a well heeled man from Westmoreland. He was the ONLY man in there with a shirt with a collar! It was that bad.
There was one guy who had on a white t-shirt that reached his knee, then he had on one of those unbearable 3/4 pants.
The music wasn't varied, just dancehall and rap hip hop for the whole 2.5 hours that I was there. No oldies, no 70's 80's "back in time" songs.
Just no comparison at all the Hellfire. But mission accomplished. I got some exercise. Was sweating trying to keep up with Newton.
That's in Montego Bay, Western Jamaica.
The family normally stays at the Half Moon (them brukking these pickney bad, mek dem ches' high - Ritz Carlton and Half Moon is a regular thing) but they are having the Digicel Golf tournament, so no space.
We'll see how this hotel measures up.....I'm a hotel person by profession, so I will have my critical eye out.
Sis handles the airline business and I handle the hotel, so I did the check ins etc...
Ok, that's about all for now. Hopefully the weather will be sunny tomorrow and I can work on my tan. No nude beach here though. Shucks.
Just came back from dinner. Twas a beach party, on the beach.....like duh.....and we stayed to watch some of the entertainment.
First there was the fireman. It's still mind boggling how they eat the fire, but we didn't worry our pretty little heads over it.
Next it was a variation of musical chairs. The coordinator got 15 people on stage with chairs, and then they were sent to get various things and return. While they were out collecting stuff, one chair was removed. You know the drill. Items they had to get were pants, bra, belt, wallet, $10 note, shoe lace, T-shirt, baseball cap, lock of blonde hair and I can't remember the rest.
Then there was a game for couples. Six couples came on stage, and they were sent to exchange clothes. There was this one guy who looked so cute in his partners mini-skirt and tank top. Next, each couple had to exchange roles and dance to Sean Paul's "Shake that thing".
I stood watching thinking how set we are in our ways. You know the man supposed to lead right? Well on stage tonight, it was the person dressed in the man's CLOTHES who had to lead, and you could see the real man taking over even though he was in the woman's clothes.
All good fun. Tomorrow there is a tennis clinic at 9am, so I think I will go to that.
When I turned that magical age, it was without fanfare. No party, no nothing. Just another birfday (which could have been on a Manic Monday).
Tonight though, I feel like celebrating, for when I stepped on the scale tonight at the gym (read the My Day at the Gym post) it showed that I've now lost 16 pounds since January.
Of course, the scale could be lying this time, but I will choose to believe it. Oh well, the long weekend coming up will be a challenge.
I will survive.
For several reasons, I didn't get to the gym until 4:38pm. I usually like to go in the mid morning, get it out of the way you know.
And I'm sorry if you're tired of hearing about my gym stories....mi going to post them anyway!
None of the eliptical runners was available. I had done decided I was going to have a long cardio session today.Went on the bicycle instead, then after about 7 minutes, one of the persons on the eliptical came and told me she was finished. Did 25 minutes on that one, then went around the weight room to do what I didn't know. It was now after 5 and that side pack up when evening come.
I stretched, then did some butt exercises (perky butt is the goal remember). Decided that I felt lazy, so I'd go do the 5:30 Aerobics & Body Sculpt class with Steve. First time in his class. Quite enjoyable. I realized that I've gotten better because first time I woulda huff and puff and (not blow the house down) not be able to keep up, but I could. Except that I didn't.
When he was doing the high impact jumping ones, I didn't jump. One time, he came beside me and said "all you doing is..." and then mimicked me. All in good fun. I told him I was saving my knees.
That done, I went back around the weights area, because I couldn't believe what I had seen on the scales earlier. See the other post for that. Weighed again and was now heading out when I saw the Latin Aerobics class in progress.
Why not? So I did.
Lawks mi chil' ......is so ah know ah getting old. It was taught by Toki, who is one of the male dancers from Cuba in the National Dance Theatre Company. The hip movements escaped me for a bit, then it all came back to me. Miss P did tek mi latin dancing in Barbados a couple of times, so I remembered some of those moves. And there were these two girls who were very good, so I followed backa dem.
In the end, I got a better workout from the Latin Aerobics than the Body Sculpt one.
I forgot to mention this. There was this girl, hair flowing, make up on, going in completely the opposite way from everybody else in the class! I mean to say, even the guys who were in the class were in step and in rhythm! She should have been ashamed of herself.
When I signed out in the book, it showed that I had spent 3 hours approximately inside the gym. Don't worry, I am not overdoing it. I just know I have to work hard to achieve my goals.....read the next post.
As I write this, my niece is undergoing her first Royal Academy of Dance (RAD) exam next to Sts Peter & Paul.
She was instructed to get there by 1:55pm and not to be late, so the efficient Auntie Yammie picked her up at Vaz Prep, and got her there at about 1:30pm. On the way there, Auntie put the radio to 93.7fm, that's Radio Mona, which plays classical music at lunchtime. Very relaxing.
The Niece got calls from her mummy aka Sis, and her grandpappy, aka Pops, wishing her well. She giggled with nervousness both times.
Her hair, it was instructed, should be in a bun and neat. Sis, unbeknown (that spell wrong I think) to me, had put a brush in my handbag this morning while I was sleeping. This morning when I was leaving the house, I saw this unfamiliar brush in my bag and said "what dis doing in here? Steupps" and flung it out. It was only while in the car when reading the instructions that I saw about the hair thing. Oh well....good thing she hadn't messed it up. I got some water from the water cooler at her school and pressed it on to her hair to si-mood it down.
We left Vaz in brilliant sunshine. By the time we got to the place, it was pouring with rain. And guess what? Auntie never have no umbrella!
But she did have a very large gym towel, which The Niece put over her head and ran up the stairs.
I'll go back for her in about 45 minutes. Until then, she will be 'arabesque'-ing, 'plie'-ing, 'entendue'-ing away.
I wish her luck. Sis went through those things....not I.
....to the gym, or to some other exercise place. I hope they realize that with their stressful jobs, they need to keep healthy to avoid chronic diseases. I need to get the 'Guyanese' doc to lecture them on the relationship between weight and chronic diseases.
And I'm saying this in a nice way. I'm looking out for other people's health.
They couldn't have come with me today, because I didn't go. Didn't feel like it. Giving the muscles a break, and besides, I had an article to write. Yes mi dear mah....mi nuh get one next writing job mah, and for an English publication to boot. I hope it will be acceptable.
So tomorrow in the gym will be a long session for me. Must make sure and eat right, so I can tan pon it long (I'm talking about the machines)
When I go on the internet, I always remember that I have to look up something on a site.
When I log off, I remember that I haven't done it.
I need some ginko biloba.
Dem damn bumps just come up at the same spot time after time.
And I know I not supposed to squeeze them, but I do, till they pop! And of course, it leaves a mark, but who to tell it wouldn't leave a mark if you didn't squeeze it.
Then there is hair. You tweeze one out....it grow back. I'm fortunate not to have a lot coming up on the chin, but once in a while you get a few, and they have to be tweezed out.
Why? Why? Why? do we have to put up with these things?
This is the agency which does work on our roads. I noticed today that they are making some changes on Knutsford Boulevard, and of course the work on Old Hope Road is progressing nicely.
They're very pro-active and their Communications Manager Vando Palmer seems to have a good handle on everything that the agency is doing. Everytime he is interviewed on radio, he sounds very knowledgeable about the operations of the NWA. That's good. Means that he is involved at the decision-making level.
There will be turbulence. Just tighten your seat belts, stay seated, observe the no-smoking sign while I upgrade to Movable Type 3.0 so we can kill those &%*ing comment spammers once and for all.
- Ryan
I usually go during the day, but for some reason decided to go in the evening yesterday. Actually I know why. I wanted to do a Pilates class. After that I did the squats as you read, then some lunges (remember perky butt is the goal) and some other leg work, then 15 minutes on the elliptical runner (good machine that) at quite a fast pace for most of it (6 mph).
Went into bed around midnight, and could I fall asleep? Not for the life of me.
This morning, I have a neck ache from some of the exercises yesterday. Truth be told, I really shouldn't be doing Pilates or Yoga because I had slipped out a vertebrae in 2001 and I have never been the same. Even now, as I sit while typing this, my neck hurts, and then when I get up, I have to stand still for a while because I get dizzy. Went to some chiropractors which gave temporary relief, also went to that French rheumatologist here (that spell wrong!) which helped a bit too. Oh well, I guess I am just stuck with this discomfort.
I don't know how I am going to manage at university come August with the sitting. I remember at University of Surrey two years ago, I had to ask to sit on top of the desk in one of the classes because when they showed things on the overhead projector, I would have to tilt my head up and that gave me problems.
So don't exercise in the evening, ok? I finished my gym stint at 8:30 or thereabouts last night. Not sure if I will go today, so will try and eat better. I didn't go for 5 days last week, and sure enough, I put back on 1.5 pounds.
If you add up how much money I have spent on magazines in my lifetime, I'm sure it would come to a small fortune. I discovered magazines when my sister went to the States for college and she brought back Shape and I think it was Self. Of course, every holiday that she came home, she got a list with magazines on it to buy for me (no I didnt pay her back!).
I hardly read the Cosmos, or Glamour or those kinds now. Strictly Fitness, Shape, Hers Muscle & Fitness, Self, Oxygen, things that have a fitness focus.
In those magazines, you always have exercises and usually, before I throw out the magazines, I tear out the pages with exercises that I've never tried before. I can refer to them before going to the gym, to get an idea for a new exercise.
Up until about 3 weeks ago, I'd never used the standing squat machine to do a squat. I have a slight problem with my left knee and I felt that would make it worse.
But in an issue of Oxygen that I bought recently, it said that squats and lunges were the two best exercises to get a perky butt, and since that is a goal, then I got on the machine. Mark was the instructor who showed me what to do.
This evening at the gym, on only about my 4th time on this machine, Orlando, another instructor who was a top body builder in his time, was waiting on me to finish as he had a client to put on the machine after me.
He said to her, "watch this lady and see if you can try and copy what she is doing". As I squatted, he said to her "you see that, that's a perfect squat, you see how she goes down low, then uses her glutes to come back up, that's a perfect squat".
Lawks mi did feel sweet yuh si! My money has not been spent in vain.
The mosquitoes.
They're out in full force, and I think they've been joined by some of dem likkle sandflies. Scratch, scratch, scratch. Putting marks on my pretty legs (in my mind of course!). I try not to scratch, but it's hard.
Dr D asked how come I hadn't posted anything yesterday, so I told him I didn't have anything worthwhile to say.
And besides, I was very busy transcibing a loooooooong interview that I had done with a cricketer on Saturday.
Oh, I know what I must mention. On Saturday, I was at Kensington Cricket Club in Rollington Town, near Vaz Prep School. During the lunch break when the teams were inside eating, I went to the car for something, and was actually sitting in the car when it unfolded....
A police vehicle drove up to the gate, two police persons (man and woman) jumped out, one drew a regular gun, the woman drew an automatic gun and pointed to across the field. Ah say, "yes now....ah go get shot in a cross fire". But the strange thing is that there had been no activity at the cricket ground that would suggest that the police should come there.
Anyway, I started the car after they ran across the cricket field, ready to high tail it out of there, but ah say no. Let me get my heart rate back down, and watch how this is going to unfold. They ran to a perimeter concrete fence and jumped over.
Now the jumping over part is funny. You know how in the movies, they just sort of sail over the wall? Well, clearly these officers not fit. I witnessed one having to haul up the other with great difficulty. The Jamaica Defence Force cricket team was one of the opponents, and one of their players later on was laughing at the police, saying that the wall was very low and easy to scale and that they not fit. He recounted being on joint operations with them, and seeing more evidence of their unfitness. The JDF soldiers have to pass a fitness test every 6 months, so they have to stay in shape.
I heard later on too, that the police were looking for some men who had held up a drinks truck in the area earlier. I didn't hear any rat-a-tat, so I guess no one was shot.
Now I have to do some rat-a-tatting of my own, because these annoying creatures are buzzing around, and stopping on, my leg! Take that (splat) and that (buff).
Read this post from December 2003 archives first.
Then continue....
That incident took place on Caledonia Avenue, near Nuthall Hospital.
Remember I posted a few days ago that the 'Guyanese' doctor sent me to do some blood tests. So I went this morning to a new place in Lane Plaza called Lane Medical.
The lab technician walks out. You again?????
Same man. So I remind him that he called me fat, and told him that I wrote about him. I think he was flattered.
And no, he didn't call me Mich. And yes, he found the vein quickly so no slap slapping of Mich!
The family went to see that movie when it came to Jamaica years ago. (I remember my father saying "damn foolishness". at the end of it) Earlier today, while at home, I watched part of it on cable again.
The reaction was the same now as it was then. Choke, choke, swallow swallow, lump in throat and a few tears.
In case you didn't see it, here's a brief recap.
Francesca is an Italian married to an American living on a farm in some back of woods place in the States. They have two kids - a boy and a girl. Hubby and kids go off to show their pig in, well, a show. They are away for 4 days. Francesca is left alone and on the first day day, Robert Kincaid (hmmm, any relation to Jamaica Kincaid?), a National Geographic photographer is lost and stops by her house for directions. One thing leads to another, she invites him to supper and they fall in love. Yes, they 'dweet'. He asks her to come away with him, and she is torn between his request and leaving her family. She bawls uncontrollably, sometimes regrets the decision it seems, but in the end, found peace with what she decided.
The story is told through her two kids who are now grown, who are going through her things after her death. Francesca wrote about the Robert experience and locked the journal away. The key was presented after she died. In the trunk, along with the journal, was the dress she rushed into town to buy the first night they had dinner.
OK, you can go look up the rest.
But the point about this blog, is that when I saw the movie first, it further affirmed that I will not, I repeat, I WILL NOT get myself in a situation with a man, or any other type of situation where I am not happy, and where I feel flat and dead. I am unable to understand people who stay in a marriage even though it's not providing much joy.
Don't get me wrong....Francesca's husband treated her fine and that was one of the reasons she stayed because she said he didn't do anything wrong. But it was the same monotonous boring routine each day. In the end, she felt duty bound because of the kids as well. Maybe they didn't notice she was unhappy, or rather not feeling truly alive.
She wrote this to her kids in the journal...
DO WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO TO BE HAPPY IN THIS LIFE. THERE IS SO MUCH BEAUTY OUT THERE.
It's as if she spoke to me many years ago, when I took this approach to how I live my life each and every day. Remember this post? Read it again
No one will make me change that way of thinking. No one.
I came back from dropping Mother this morning and parked the car outside the gate rather than driving in.
I was then leaving to go to the gym, when I spotted behind me, a school boy walking down the road. I wound down the passenger side and asked him where he was headed. To Old Hope Road to take the bus. Which school do you go to? New Day All Age. Where is that? Grants Pen.
So I told him to hop in and I would take him to the bus stop. When we reached the bottom of the road where I would turn left to go to Old Hope Road and right to go to the gym, I asked him what time school starts. 12 noon. What time did my clock say? 11:28am. When he told me that he would take the bus to Half Way Tree and then another to Grants Pen, I said "I'll carry you". Surely he would have been late.
I figured that adding 10 minutes to my journey was worth it if he got to school on time.
Now I ask a lot of questions.
What time you normally leave home? 10:30
How come you were late this morning? I was doing something
What? Watching TV? No, I was making a keyboard
Oh! For IT class? Yes
What's your name? Jermaine Watson
Where do you live? Up the road and turn left
Who do you live with? Grandmother, aunt and ...
Do you play cricket? No
What! Do you play any sports? Yes, football
Why you don't play cricket? I don't watch because it's boring. (Dr D got to him!)
Who is the principal? Miss Ormsby
Oh, I know her sister. Did you do GSAT? Yes, but they say I didn't pass.
(He didnt do well in Math)
(I had to make conversation while I drove, ent?)
I asked him if he realizes that he could walk to school. He says he does that sometimes. The bus fare is $30 each time ($15 to HWT, $15 from HWT to New Day) so $60 per day. I showed him how he could save nearly $300 per week.
He was very quiet and seemed shy. He is 13 and is light brown in complexion with a bit of curly hair, about 5 ft 4 in tall, had on a white shirt and khaki pants.
When I dropped him at the gate, I told him to make sure and do well in school. I didn't get a chance to add "that's how you will be able to do well in life".
Every time I have such an encounter with a child, I wished that I had gone on to do initially what I have always wanted to do, from since I was a teenager, that is to teach kids.
Another time I'll tell you how that came about.
I think I've been fairly successful as a manager during my working years, because of how I think and how I operate. I tend to look ahead, and the possible occurences (that spell wrong I think!) factor in when I am making a plan for how I am going to spend the day.
Take today for instance.
I got up at 6:30am to leave the house with Mother at 7, so I could drop her and borrow her car. Why? I have the remainder of some photocopies to collect at Island Records Office. 63 records were requested, each of average length 3 pages to photocopy. I had collected 38 the day before I left Jamaica (22 April) - 3 weeks ago. I told them I would come for the rest last Friday, 7 May.
While waiting for the mutts to eat, I decide to call the IRO to double check that the rest of copies are ready. They are not, to my disgust. The lady who I dealt with is on leave, and the supervisor sounded like a broken record repeating this fact. I am yet to get an apology. Anyway, I will go for them on Friday.
But the point of this blog is to illustrate how I think. Sure, it would have been inconvenient if I drove all the way to Twickenham Park to find out they weren't ready. But most importantly, I called ahead because I needed to know what to eat before I leave the house, as I'm going to see Gym today.
Gym eating is different from non-gym eating, because I have to make sure I have enough carbs, and not too much protein. So if I hadn't called IRO, I would have had much more food to last me for the long trip and then it wouldn't digest properly to allow me to work out.
No long trip means I have to eat something smaller than I would have eaten. We don't want the blood to have the distraction of digesting food. We want all of it rushing to the growing muscles.
Now sometimes I wonder if thinking like that makes me uptight, and not able to be spontaneous. Well I'll have it no other way. Spontaneity is good for some things, but not for others. I need a well thought out plan.
I'm being very adventurous.
Tonight, I went to the gym at 7:30pm, feeling way tired, and having a headache. I said to myself that I'll just do a 45 minutes or so, nothing too strenuous, because I didn't sleep very well last night.
I looked on the class schedule and saw that Susan the Pilates teacher, was doing a yoga class in a few minutes. Purrrrrrfect. Just what the (Guyanese) doctor ordered.
Mi dear mahs, again, with this seemingly mild form of exercise, I was bussing a sweat after 10 minutes!
If I do this for a couple of weeks, I will be able to contort my body into any position I like.
Now she should have issued a warning.
YOGA IS HAZARDOUS TO YAMFOOT'S POLISHED NAILS
The right toe had a chip on it. I only noticed it tonight when I took off my sneakers and socks before the class. But in addition to the chip, after the class, there was a black spot. You see, you have to rest your toes along the floor. The mats they have are for aerobics and they don't work too well for the yoga positions.
The left toe was also black.
Just so you don't have to visualize, here are two pics of the big toes. First the right toe with the chip and black mark from the floor....
Now for the left toe with the black mark...
(You see the lovely colour polish on the toes?)
Doc: How much you weigh?
Me: _______
Doc: You know about the relationship between being overweight and chronic diseases (give examples of chronic diseases and explains why they are referred to as that)
Me: Yup
Doc: Does anyone in your family have diabetes?
Me: Paternal grandmother did
Doc: Cancer?
Me: Yup. Maternal grandmother, plus many of her sisters and brothers had all sorts of cancers - colon, lung, breast
Doc: High blood pressure?
Me: Yes, my father
OK, lots of ammunition for him to launch off into why one should not be overweight. "But, but, but" I interjected...I've lost 14 pounds since the start of the year, and during a year in England I lost 38.
That's good. More explanations into what overweight women could be at risk for, for eg, uterine cancer. Eeegad.
So he gives me a referral form for a nutritionist, with the diagnosis being "Overweight". Man oh man. Of course I know I'm overweight, but to see it written on a piece of paper as a diagnosis, as if it's a disease......ah bwoy.
But I told him that I read a lot, I am unemployed and if he gives me the referral slip, I probably won't go to the nutritionist. He said I could do whatever I wanted with it, and said it was also good that I was trending down.
Well I'll have to call him in a month to find out some other test results, so I must make sure to work hard and be able to brag that I've lost 19 pounds so far (5 pounds per month weight loss is the aim).
So the form is tucked away in my bag, never to be used. I'm sure she is good, I've heard of her, but anything I don't 'mus and bound' fi spend money on, I'm not.
Went to a new 'Guyanese' doctor today. No, he didn't just get his medical licence, I mean it was the first time I was going to him. Dr D knows that I made this decision very carefully, with his help sort-of-a.
The appointment was bloody hard to get (no pun intended!) and the day finally came. It should have been at 9:30am and efficient me called at about 9 to confirm only to hear the Receptionist say "oh, we were trying to get you". Rescheduled to 10:45am. Good. I can go collect my carouchies (things) from the airport. Zipped off and got back by 11am. Late, but I called her at 10:30 to tell her I would be 15 mins late.
He saw me at 11:30 which I thought was good for a 'Guyanese' doctor. Before he even started, I reminded him that he and I used to run around in short pants at his father's extra lessons for Common Entrance. He cracked up and said "don't remind me", but he couldn't quite place my face.
Anyway, he went through the usual questions, lots of them, which I liked because some don't ask enough and sometimes you forget to tell the docs everything. I told him I know sometimes I have to do a urine test so I had a full bladder, so if he wasn't going to do that, I would need to 'go' before he pressed his hands on my bladder and I squirt over his table. He guffawed.
He did an ultra sound before the potty, and then I went to potty, and came back for the derobing. Not a problem for me to derobe in front of a male doc. So he pressed and squeezed, prodded and poked. Then there was the other kind of ultra sound where he stuck what I thought looked like a gear stick of a car up and showed me my insides. Wow. Super cool. I have never had that before.
There was banter back and forth and he told me that I was a riot. I guess humour is my middle name. Sometimes.
He sent me along my way to get some tests done. I told him I liked that, do all the tests you want, as long as they don't cost a million dollars.
So I'm to call him a week after the test. But that was quite a pleasant experience, I have to say. The little things I can overlook eg not having a hanger to hand my clothes, waiting 1/2 hour.
Doctors are expensive sah. $5,200 for that visit. That's J$. Exchange rate is 60 to 1. Work it out and you know I can't afford to be sick. I'll tell you about the nutrition talk we had in another post, after the gym. Gone to eat......
What to do when waiting in the line? Listen to the conversations around you.
LADY 1
Two persons up from me. This was in the shorter line for credit card transactions. She calls out a man in the snaking regular line "Hi, I didn't know you come to the bank?". He replies "what you mean?". Says she "I thought, you know, you would send somebody to the bank for you". Hmmm, I guess the man is some bigshot. I didn't recognize him.
She then proceeds to chat loudly to him (how could I help but listen?). He then asks how is her son. Fine, she says. How old is he? 1.5 years. Then she says that she is wondering whether to send him to play school. Play school! According to her, some of her friends are pressuring her to do that. The man, who has older kids, says there are pros and cons of doing that.
LADY 2
Right in front of me. She was reading a book called 'The Woman Next Door'. Then she got a call on her cell phone. Lady 2 was talking so loudly that I couldn't hear.
But what was interesting, was that she had on a Levis jeans as well. So did I. I noticed the waist size and it's 8 inches less than mine. When I looked at her I said to myself "she scrawny". No way do I want to be that skinny. So I just need to lose another 5 inches off my waist and I will be fine. I lost 4 while in England so that will be a total of 9 inches when I get to my goal.
I told you yesterday that I would wait until I weighed on the gym scale to decide just how much weight I've lost.
Did that, and the result is........(drum roll)
.......2 additional pounds since when I left here.
So the total since the start of the year is a whole 14 pounds. The only reason it's not more, is because of the rain in Trinidad and Grenada. What? What rain have to do with you losing weight.
Well you see, it's like this. If there was no rain, there would have been cricket. I walk up and down at cricket. If there was no rain, I wouldn't have kept the rental car for as many days as I had it and so would have had to walk to the bus stop and up the hill to where my hotel room was (a steep steep hill). Now you understand the correlation between the rain and the little bit of weight loss?
Now I purposely don't put how much I weigh because if you heard it, you'd think that I was larger than I look. Usually when I ask people to guess, they guess way lower than I really am, which means that I probably have a lot of the weight in muscle weight. Muscle? Where? Ok, let's not debate that.
But take for example you Mad Bull. You've seen me. Dig up your short term memory and take a guess at how much I weigh.
This dog lives next door Miss P in Bimshire, and everytime I come outside, he bark at me. You hear him before you see him, so you would think that he's a large dog.
Not so. Here's a picture of the lil pooch. Him cute eeee?
This evening, after getting a haircut, I went to one of the many pharmacies in Liguanea.
I'll go off on a tangent for a bit. I stood at the counter waiting for a phone card, when a tall gangly fellow walks up to the counter and says to the clerk "You look like you married". She looked up in surprise and looked at me with my surprised look as well. She asked the guy why he said that. He said she just look that way. I said "how she look? Miserable?" Then I turned to him and said "and what do I look like? Divorced?" Har har guffaw.
Ok, so back to the story. I walked outside to go to the car when a little boy, pint size thing, approached me very respectfully and asked for money to help his blind mother. As I normally do, I started to ask questions. How come she blind? Does she know that you are out here begging? Where you live? Waterford.
Waterford? But that's far! How come you came all this way?
"Miss, ah was in Half-Way-Tree and somebody seh mi fi come up here". I said "why? because people up here have money?". Yes miss. Innocently.
Ah bwoy. Anyway, I gave him some money and told him that I have no way of knowing whether what he said was true or false, but that if I found out otherwise I would be very disappointed (me sounding like the stern school marm!). He said thank you.
He said he goes to Waterford High. Do you know that's the same school that Jermaine Lawson went to? No miss, who is he? You don't follow cricket? Yes miss, but I only know Chris Gayle (the miserablist of the West Indies players - take that from me). He got some catching up to do. I bet even Dr D knows who Jermaine Lawson is.
Now while talking to the boy, a grown man comes up. He reminds me that he knows me from the garbage truck (where?). I say hi anyway and he says he want to talk to me when I am finished with the boy. I tell him he can talk to me now. He begs for money to help with his asthma. I tell him that I've just given all my money to the boy.
Afterwards, I wondered who to believe. But I'd go with the boy. That man is always out there which leads me to believe that he's fibbing.
On the same day with the "all men are dogs entry", Miss P in Bimshire offered to paint my toe nails. I chose a nice bright colour, really bright.
Well today on the plane, I was in an aisle seat...9C to be exact, when one of the flight attendants said to me "If I had toes like that, I'd be happy". Wow, a compliment about my yamfeet, all cause of a lil polish. She said she has a shade like the one I have on, but it don't look like that on her.
It's really a nice shade. Sadly when it chips, I'll have to take it off and find one equally appealing as me and the bottle are now separated by a couple thousand miles!
I shoulda been showing off the toes at Quad tonight, but let me tell you....ah dog tired.
In my dreams a short while ago, I saw myself at the airport. Then I wondered how come I hadn't heard the alarm yet, so I jumped out of bed, to find that it was light outside.
Please, please, don't make me have overslept and therefore missed my flight.
Phew! The clock said 5:25am.....5 minutes before I was due to get up.
Thankfully the weather seems ok, no rain like yesterday morning.
Instead of watching a movie, which I'm currently doing (50 First Dates), I should really be sleeping as I have an 8:25am flight to Jamaica tomorrow.
Oh well, there's always the plane to sleep isn't there, or if that doesn't work out, then I can sleep when I get home, ent?
I'll tell you when the next trip out of Jamaica Land We Love will be.
If you've been reading this blog for a while, you would have heard me say (or seen me write...however you prefer to look at it) that one of my goals is to be able to jog once around Mona reservoir without stopping.
Well, today I went around once, but it wasn't Mona reservoir. It was the cricket field at UWI Cave Hill campus in Barbados. Maybe the cricket was the inspiration, or it was the fact that Brian Lara, two days before, jogged from there to the Kensington Oval.
That jog today was part of a 1hr 45mins walk for me this morning, which included walking uphill along that highway which goes from Simpson Motors round about (well really D'arcy Scott roundabout) to UWI. Last time I did that, my butt muscles hurt the next day.
But success doesn't come without pain so I press on.
Oh, the scale here lying AGAIN. It's saying I've lost 5 pounds since I've been away and I say that can't be right. It probably malfunctioning. Like last time, I have to wait until I go home to weigh on the scale at the gym to corroborate this.
If true, it means that since the start of the year, I would have lost 17 pounds.
....and the day name day that I happen to find one that disproves this fact, ah gwine marry him (even if he doesn't ask). I've been swearing blind that I not getting married ever, so this is a very unusual statement.
So 'wutlis' is too mild a word.
Ruff. Ruff.
I think it was Mad Bull who said that he had bought her latest CD?
I heard 2 of her songs the other day and they're really good, so looks like I'll be adding her to my collection.
In the meantime, here's a link on a story on Tanya Stephens carried in Monday's Jamaica Observer.
I went to a football match today in Grenada.
Morocco played a Caribbean All Star team which featured Fabian Davis. When we left, the score was 3-0 in favour of Morocco.
The Caribbean defenders were kept busy as the ball stayed in Morocco's half for the majority of the game. There were a couple of chances for our team, but no luck as at when I left (about 10 minutes before the end of play).
This is only my second football match (not counting the many prep school matches we went to to support Vaz Prep). I'm still not sold but there were moments of excitement which made it ok. Maybe is because our team wasn't so good.
But see, I'm adventurous. Never afraid to try something different. That goes with the "Variety is the spice of life theme".
Enjoy your week everybody. I'm off to Barbados tomorrow, and hopefully there will be a match on Wednesday, weather permitting. On Monday evening, UWI Cave Hill will honour West Indian cricketers who have taken 5 wicket hauls or scored centuries, so His Excellency Brian Lara will be there.
That's it from me. I gone to pack.
Came back about 1/2 hour ago from this fete which was held at a hotel called Secret Harbour, which doesn't operate as a hotel anymore.
The music was ok for the most part, not as good as the one in Trinidad last week Sunday, nothing can top that really. Bad thing is the DJ kept talking during some of the 'chunes'.
Now the interesting thing is that there was a fight! An even more interesting thing is the crowd's reaction to the fight. I must interject here and say that the crowd was made up of Grenadians from all walks of life....so different than if it were being held in Jamaica where you would have most of the same 'class' (though I don't know how one determines class, but anyway, you know what I'm saying).
So, fight bruk out. Don't know why but I'm sure it was helped by too much alcohol. Some of the patrons left, but not in a hurry. I stood around and watched to see if I could make out what was happening. In Jamaica, I woulda been the first one out of there, cause some gun was sure to pop. Not here.
Even the policeman's reaction struck me as different. The one I saw, in uniform, was leaned up against a wall. Later on I saw him walk towards the bar, and I commented to someone "how come he not down there seeing what's happening?" The guy say policeman probably don't want to get involved.
Few minutes later, I see policeman walking from the bar with a bottled drink in his hand, looking quite unperturbed.
I later learnt that the perpetrator, in trying to elude the security guards, leapt over the cliff....and banged his head and was unconscious. On our way to drop somebody home, we saw the ambulance rushing in that direction.
Well, in the 4 years that I lived here, I never went to a fete. So this was a first. Went to Jazz Festival and an Alison Hinds concert...that was it. Very little time to be social. When you finished working, you just wanted to crash at home.
So this was a new experience for me. I hope the fellow has not been injured too badly.
Cricket loverly cricket tomorrow hopefully, so must go put my head on the pillow.