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
This is a story about a guy who chatted me up at the gym the other day.
But ah tired now, so will get back to it sometime over the weekend.
I think the kids who are on the street selling have been to some training courses. One day last week, I encountered two of them in the Lane Plaza where Superplus is.
The first was was Kemar.
Kemar: Good day miss. How are you today?
Yamfoot: Fine thank you.
Kemar: Miss, would you like to buy a dish cloth or wash rag? I'm selling them to help send me to school.
Yamfoot: Lemme see what you have there? ( I don't need anything but I am so impressed by his politeness and well spokenness. I pick out two dish cloths) How much are these?
Kemar: Miss, $80 for one.
Yamfoot: Ok, I will take these two. Oh, but I don't have any Jamaican money on me. Will you take a US$5.00?
Kemar: Yes Miss.
Yamfoot: What's your name?
Kemar: Kemar
Yamfoot: What school do you go to Kemar?
Kemar: Denham Town Primary Miss.
Yamfoot: Oh, you come far. You do well in school?
Kemar: Yes Miss
Yamfoot: How much you usually come in your class?
Kemar: 1st Miss.
Yamfoot: Good. Keep it up. You know that education is what is going to make you not have to sell on the streets right?
Kemar: Yes Miss. Thank you Miss.
Yamfoot: Ok, Merry Christmas.
Kemar: You too Miss.
Later that day, I encountered another one selling shamoys. I really didn't need that and where as I could find use fo the dish cloths, I could not with the shamoys. He then asked me for some small change to buy something to eat. I asked him if he was sure he wouldn't throw it back at me, as I have had done to me before. He looked shocked that anybody would do such a thing, and that I would even suggest that. Anyway, I found what I could and gave him and he said thank you.
I thought they were both so polite. If only their mothers hadn't put them in the circumstances they both find themselves in, who knows what they could become? Well, they still have time to make something of themselves. I almost felt like calling Denham Town school to find out more about Kemar the Grade 5 student. His diction was excellent, and so was his grammar, something unusual for kids who are on the streets.
Steups. I had cause to kiss my teeth today at the Heart Institute of the Caribbean (HIC).
Imagine, me call dem yesterday fi mek one appointment to get fitted with a holter monitor. Every now and again my heart skps a beat and is NAT FROM UN HOMBRE *shucks*. So about 18 months ago I had gone there to have an ECG. As usual, nutten nuh wrong. So the Doc said the next step would be to do this thing where they hitch on a holter monitor to you and it records your heart rate for 24 hours.
Now, yesterday, the receptionist could have asked me what my normal routine is, and tell me what I could and could not do once I had it fitted. But no, all she do is gimme a time (9:30am) and tell me how much it cost.
I pride myself on being on time so got there at 9:26am. You have to sign in and one column asks "appointment time" and the other "arrival time". That I suppose is so yuh cyant cuss if yuh reach after di time and waan get tru quick stick.
I had carried two magazines with me (Shape and Oxygen). Read those. At 10:00am, the clerk or whoever the money collector is, called me to a room and she ran the credit card for enough money to make me wince. But is for my health, so onlly a mini-wince. 1/2 hour not so bad to wait I thought. She sent me back to sit dung in di comfortable couch dem. Actually I had not finished the magazines so continued that. I was so engrossed in them that I did not realize when 11:00am came. Remember I had a 9:30 appointment.
I went over to Miss Receptionist and ask her could she please find out when I would be seen because I find it is unreasonable to be waiting 1.5 hours. Hear har nuh...."Oh, you're still here? I thought you had left!". One loud steups in my mind. She made some calls, told me to sit back down and in about 5 minutes I was called.
Nurse fits me up with the holter thingy and I just happened to mention to her that I going to exercise now. No! Huh? That don't make any sense. Most times it is while doing cardio that my heart beats funnily so wouldn't they want to record when that happens? According to them, the monitor will do its job and if anything is there they will find it. Well I tell miss Cuban Nurse that it will come back blank because nutten usually happen just so. I have to be exerting effort and since mi not going horizontal these days, is ongly from 'hexercising' that my heart will be under stress.
So I left there steupsing inwardly, then went about seeing if I could stress out my heart. I didn't have to go far to do that.
I turned on to Eastwood Park Road, realized I was in the wrong lane and tried to get over to the left. Would anybody let me out? I started shouting in the car "you're all so damn mean!!!!!!!!". I got a log to record when anything feels funny with my heart beat, but that didn't work. Nothing to log so far. Tonight is Kalooki. Maybe when I try to get a "call!!!" my heart will react.
I suppose it would be nice to get a clear reading when they take it off tomorrow morning, but after you pay so much money, you kinda want some answers.....it's kinda like you're getting a return on your investment!
It certainly don't seem like Christmas day to me. And certainly yesterday didn't feel like Christmas Eve. The streets were empty. Maybe coz it was a Sunday perhaps.
But compliments of the season to you all. And think about those less fortunate that won't have a memorable Christmas Day. Like the late Neville Willoughby's children and family. Sad thing about his tragic car accident so soon to a time of merriment. (dat spell wrong)
Yamfoot....doing the customary blog entry on Christmas Day but certainly not feeling it. They say Christmas is for kids. I really must be an adult now for sure!
I am puzzled how come a theatre in Jamaica can show a movie before it premiers in the USA. Anyway, Dreamgirls reach Jamaica. I am filling up on movies here because the one cinemawr on my side of town in Grenada is a bit "far" to get to and transportation when movie done is a bit iffy. I believe one is going to re-open in a plaza within walking distance from me, but until then, each time I come to The Rock, Palace is going to get some money outta me.
Anyway, back to the movie...
Is one of them feel good, singing, fill-up-your-heart type of movie. That girl Jennifer Hudson - American Idol cast off from a few seasons ago - can surely sing.
That song "And I am telling you, I'm not going", she sung it in the movie and when she was done, the audience clapped. When the movie was done, the audience clapped. Good casting. All the actors seemed perfect for their roles. Definitelly worth a watch. And there is Oscar buzz around it after it was nominated for some Golden Globe awards. So we shall see. They're saying Jennifer Hudson, who by the way is in her first movie role, could walk away with one. Wouldn't that be a dream!
I was really trying with them. I wore them for the second time today. Wednesday was the first day.
Well, this is what happened today.
Just came home from the movies (see the Dreamgirls entry), the right eye came out ok. I still quite haven't got the knack of taking them out just yet. The left one took a bit of doing. Rub, rub, rub. Wet, wet, wet with some drops. Pull down. Pinch. Nothing.
Do it all over again. I guess I was anxious to take them out cause they were irritating me all night in the movie theatre and I wished I coulda just grabbed them out with all that hassle.
Anyway, so after about three of four tries, I yank out left eye. Is that a fluff thing? Nope. It's a tear. The damn thing tear. Fortunately it was a free trial pair. I was supposed to tell the eye doc if she should order a three month supply for me (disposable lenses), but I dunno, I dunno. Too much hassle. Glasses are so much easier, and after 34 years of wearing them, it's really going to take some doing to get into another habit.
After over 20 years of activity, I decided today to go without protection. It's a weird feeling. Some people said that there is no other way. That wearing protection takes away the joy. I dunno. I dunno.
What I do know is that after trying once, I had to say "it won't stay in!". The opthalmologist told me gently to try again. Because I have done it before, I guess it was a matter of remembering. Like sex, putting in contact lenses is something you don't really forget how to do.
So I have them in now. After I left the office, I had to walk in the rain. Instinctively, I put my hands to shade my eyes. I don't think that rain drops and contact lenses mix very well, unless rain drops have saline in them.
That will be the worse part. Not having the protection of the hard lenses of my glasses to shield my eyes. Went looking for a pair of shades today. Massi Kingdom! The first one I liked cost $11,000. I asked the guy for the cheapest. He said $5,000. I remember I had bought a pair in Florida, I think it was in 2000, intending from then to get contacts but never did. Lazy. I just pulled them from the drawer, all bent from lack of use.
Right. My eyes are crossing up in front of me. I have to try hard to keep them open. We are going to the "cinemawr" tonight. Contemplating whether I should keep them for that. I dunno.
I take great pleasure in telling people how old I am. The last time was to a foreigner who is about 22. She said "you're kidding!!!"
That is the usual reaction. I told her that Grenada agrees with me, and the sun.
And the fact that I am happy inside and have no stress and don't let insignificant things bother me, eat well and exercise often enough helps.
Oh, and the good genes too! We all look a lot younger than we are. From the departed grandparents to The Nephew and The Niece.
Idleness is a helluva thing. Am in the Barbados airport and my tired mind starting to wonder about the numbers.
Got out my notepad and started the list. Went through the tattered address book and cellphone contacts to remember more...cause you know, you forget after a certain number.
Then started remembering the occasions, the thrills of the chase...... tried to forget the bad ones. I was certainly very young and foolish. And because I have never been confident about my looks and personality (I'm getting better at it as I age gracefully), the numbers have been kept down...relatively speaking.
But I would surprise people. The number of persons goes over the number of fingers I have even though I've not had many SO's. The thing though is that there haven't been multiple occasions except with a few that were worthwhile going back for.
And at times over the twenty or so years, there have been periods of drought. Three years, two years in between.
It needs watering now. But I've made some decisions about future occasions. Some categories of people are off limits as I grow older and wiser. I don't have to tell you who those are.
I was headed to Husbands Terrace. I had the option of taking a bus from the bottom of the hill up the hill. But the first bus stop was UP the hill so it didn't make sense. So off I headed. It was pennance for the ice cream I had had earlier.
With my back pack laden with tuna, sardines, clothes, deoderant....rather heavy I must say, I set off purposefully at 5:11pm. First I overtook a lady who was obviously walking for exercise. Not very quickly I daresay.
Reached to the bus stop by UWI Cave Hill. Took pictures of the renovation of 3 Ws oval where they will be having warm up matches for World Cup cricket and set off again. Reached Wanstead Drive pedestrian crossing and wondered why there was no button on my side to get the pedestrian light to come on. I looked right, left and right again and crossed.
Reached to Wanstead Terrace in quick time as it is the next 'gap' - an Eastern Caribbean terminology. Said hello to the people who I saw, asked them if there were any dogs loose. "you aint got noffing to worry about. oil a dem toy" said one lady (translation = all of the dogs were tied up) then added "but walk on the offer soid" because it was safer.
Was at my destination at 5:43pm. No huffing puffing or panting, and it was uphill. Each step that I took, I was remembering the ice cream. I think I walked it off.
Today was beach day. Well, it was supposed to be.
Left the house circa 11:45am. Got dropped to the round about by Black Rock to head up the west coast to a hotel where a friend of mine works. There I would get a day use room, have lunch, and chill FOC of course (perks of the bizniz).
Bus came quickly (public transportation is great in Barbados), I got off in Holetown, went to the supermarket (lawks dem slow) bought some tuna and sardines (tuna for dinner tonight, sardines for breakfast tomorrow), then walked to the hotel.
Checked in, chilled in the room, had lunch with my friend (it included a 3 scoop sundae....no whipped cream though....I'm on a diet!!!), chatted. All this time I am asking myself "where di hell is the sun???" After me buy very hexpensive sunscreen (only SPF 15 though), you mean I was not going to brown like a lobster?????? Well, while talking with my friend, the sun burst through so I grabbed a chair and spread out. Turned over after about 30 mins. I'm a little browner, but not brown enough.
Anyway, went back to the room, watched the CNN coverage of that tragic hiking accident in Mt Hood, bathed and changed, said my goodbyes and headed to the bus stop to take a bus towards Bridgetown. I was to get off at the Black Rock roundabout. Told the conducter this when I got on and he grabbed my back and told me to move down in the bus. Standing room only. Felt like them sardines in the tins I was carrying.
The 'ducta called to me to pay the bus fare. I told him I would pay when I got off as he had my bag with my money. Fellow sardine man who was standing next to me said "you left your purse in your bag??????" I said yes. (I come from Grenada mon). He said quite scoldingly that I shouldn't do that, it's Christmas yaddah yaddah yaddah. Then he says "I care about you" And "I'd like to be your friend". I ignored him. Then he said it again. I mumbled something. He said he and I could be friends and then asks when I am going back to the States. I told him in an annoyed voice that I don't come from America.
Then I said to myself that I need to come off this bus. I fought my way through the sardines and got off. The conducter said "but I thought you said you coming off by Black Rock?" I said I didn't feel comfortable in the bus.
At that other bus stop, two young girls came up, said hello and I asked them how far was the round about. They said "far" and then asked if I had got off at the wrong stop. Nope, and told her I wasn't comfortable on the bus.
Another bus came quickly (did I tell you how great the transportation system is in Barbados?), got on, got off at the bottom of "university hill" and there the trek started....
I kinda miscalculated how much I would have had to do before flying out shortly. First Bim, then Jamrock.
Things are still in the machine....and it's a slow machine. I dislike coming back to wherever I am living and having dirty laundry or dirty house. So did that this morning and this afternoon.
The taxi is coming at 2:05pm. It's tight, but ah think ah go mek it.
Well I don't really follow politricks, but I do follow the news and was surprised that...
a. St Lucia had elections yesterday.
and
b. The old man Sir John won.
I don't know what the climate is like in St Lucia but it must have been really bad for people to go back to someone who retired years ago, and looks like the 80+ years that he is!
By the way Sir John, you need a makeover. Pretty much like me I suppose.
So Madame Portia, don't think that because the people dem like you, that you gone clear when elections come. If Bruce & Co. throw mud and innuendo at you, well, we could go back to being a capitalist state.
I seem to be washing several times a week. I hate doing laundry....that is the only thing the word 'hate' is reserved for. I guess I need to make some more clothes for work, but I waiting until I get smaller so that I don't have to discard them when ah draw dung.
I also hate ironing. I need a Lad-in-Waiting in 2007. Applications welcomed.
Here I was last week, looking through the list of people who would arrive at the hotel this week, when I come upon a name I knew.
Could it be?
Made some enquiries, and found out that it was indeed said gentleman, coming to spend his honeymoon at our lovely resort.
In 1992, I went to England for hotel training. I returned to Jamaica in January 1993, after working for five months at the second hotel I was assigned to. Said gentleman used to be a manager there. One of the nicest people I have ever met. I didn't have much interaction with him because I wasn't in his department. But I lived on property and that came under his department so any problems I was having, I would have to go to him.
Well, 14 years hence, said gentleman comes walking into the hotel. The owner introduces him to me and says "you probably have met before". He says "no". But wait......he looks closer at me, and without me saying anything apart from "Welcome to ________" he remembers! I didn't have to fill in for him.
Just a nice nice person, very affable and funny.
I always advocate people being decent and respectful to all, because you just never know where you are going to buck up somebody you met 14 years ago!
Well, since I spread the bed in the bedroom many days ago, I haven't slept in it. Isn't that great!
I had been trying to do without it.
....The air conditioning, that is.
I usually sleep with it every night to block out noise from the neighbours, as well as from the many insects that live in the many bushes that surround my house.
It has gotten cooler now, so I wanted to use natural cool air, but I found that when I opened the window in the bedroom, it wasn't quiet enough for me to fall asleep and stay asleep. So I've resorted to sleeping in the living room.
I had put one of the twin beds from the other bedroom in there, because the old fashioned couch that is there, is no good to veg out in when I want to be lazy and watch TV all day (very rare occurence). A friend of mine visited in September and that is where he slept. Now I see why. I've had many good nights sleep since!
Now if only the reason I wasn't sleeping in my bed was because I was sleeping in somebody else's..........wishful thinnking!
I like music. You know that. I like dancehall music. You know that. You've heard me talk about hearing Beenie Man's lyrics and surprised that those are the words I jig to or work out to.
There is another song called Step Out by Busy Signal. Was just surfing awhile ago and found the lyrics and I am in shock that that is what it's talking about. At least Beenie talks about sex. The words in Step Out talk about guns and guns and guns. Does it mean I am going to stop listening to it? Nope. But I will just be more aware. The beat is very cool.
Here are the lyrics....
Afta mi step out, inna mi black
Have glock, unda mi throwback
Shot holla pon spot
Badman nuh tek back chat
An, nuff gal a get f***k
A nuh if nor but nor maybe
Gi gal c***y, nine months she get baby
Mi nuh lazy
Alright den
Wuk gal
Buss guns
Smoke weed
Have fun (wah mi do)
Wuk gal
Buss guns
Smoke weed
Count G's
Mi a nuh, done bad
Nuh Spongebob
Bwoy dis, end up inna body bag
Toe tag
Escape pon bicycle
Mi don't drive jag
50 get nine shot
3-star gi nine stab
DNA test inna di science lab
Bwoy disrespect
Mi get mi guns fi do a fine job
Tell dem (wah mi do)
Wuk gal
Buss guns
Smoke weed
Have fun (wah mi do)
Wuk gal
Buss guns
Smoke weed
Count G's
Afta mi step out, inna mi black
Have glock, unda mi throwback
Shot holla pon spot
Badman nuh tek back chat
An, nuff gal a get f**k
A nuh if nor but nor maybe
Gi gal cocky, nine months she get baby
Mi nuh lazy
Alright den
I'm very big into connecting with people, not necessarily in a personal or face-to-face kind of way. Writing allows one to do that without personal face-to-face contact.
When I read something and it resonates with me, I want to let the author know this. So I sometimes write to Dennis Chung who writes a financial article for the Observer. I am a dunce in Economics and anything to do with money (that's why I have none!) and I find he breaks things down in simple language, so I wrote and told him that. Subsequently, if he writes anything and I have a query or a comment, I pop him an email.
Then there is Mark Wignall, the sometimes controversial Jamaica Observer columnist. You will recall when I wrote about seeing him at the Indian food festival sometime last year. So he wrote something recently and because I wanted him to know who he was talking to, I reminded him of this incident and he responded, starting out with "I remember you!". He has a nice piece today about the quandary (dat spell wrong I think) journalists find themselves in when they see in person, somebody whom they have written controversial or less than complimentary things about. So I wrote to him today to say I can totally understand, because when I write something about a cricket person that is the truth but that nobody wants you to write, I wonder if they have venom in their heart for me.....which I don't think, so I still say hello.
Then there is Rodney Davis, CEO of Cable & Wireless in Jamaica. I have a friend working with CW in Bimshire and I once asked him for Mr Davis' email address because I had a complaint. I didn't email him in the end. But today, the email address came in handy. He recently spoke with the boys at Mad Bull's, Dr D's and Scratchie's alma mater and the text of the speech was carried in today's Observer. The emphasis on CHOICE and how it affects your life resonated with me, so I emailed him.....and got a response within half hour.
Maybe I'm just a Gladys. But sometimes I just don't believe in anonymity. I believe in revealing what I feel and what I am thinking to those about whom I am feeling it or thinking it. Maybe that's why I have a blog, sorta-kinda.
Time for the gym.