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
While looking at the TV guide just now, I saw that Miss Potter was on one of the movie channels....one that I don't subscribe to.
Anyway, the point of this story is that I knew I had seen the movie already and was racking my brain for many minutes to remember where I saw it. Have you seen it? Nice movie. I wish I had all the land she had!
But until I started typing just now, I had forgotten I saw it last year either on the way to or way from England on the BA flight.
I find that these days I have to think harder and longer to remember stuff. That's just the reason I have forgotten to post the pictures!!!
Watching someone have a heart attack is not a very nice thing. I thought at any time she might take her last breath, especially since the ambulance took forever! Might have been better to put her in my car and take her for myself.
Anyway, as I was holding her hand and talking to her to keep her with us while her husband went to pack her bags, I looked up at the serene scenery....
....the setting sun glistening on the massive expanse of water, people frolicking contentedly in the golden sand
...and I thought to myself, if I were having a heart attack and about to die, this would be a nice time and place for it to happen.
Fortunately she survived after a few days in hospital and was cheerful as she left to be reunited with her family tomorrow.
There was something else I was thinking as I watched her husband comfort her....
....who will be there to comfort me when I am 60, if I don't make arrangements from now?????????
I could do nothing as the steering wheel seemed to develop a mind of its own. We were careening down a winding road, with a precipice on the left side.
As the road veered to the right, the steering wheel stayed to the left. Soon, the car inevitably jumped over the safety rail and plunged.....how deep we did not know.
I was the driver, and at first, when the car left the road I was terrified, but as the car began to seemingly float to safety below, a calm came over me.
None of my passengers screamed. There was my father, aunt, sister and my niece plus me. It was the Volvo 840 - a very sturdy car. Maybe that is what made me feel relatively safe.
The car landed without much impact on a road several thousand feet below. I drove it to a halt, we got out, surveyed the damage and were relieved that no one or nothing was damaged. I made an attempt to start the car and lead it from its resting place through the dark night up to resume our planned journey. "Oh no", my father said, and took the wheel. Soon, we were on our way merrily, as if nothing had happened.
A miracle? Nope. My dream last night! (I didn't eat anything devilish I swear!)
Richie Spice sings it best. The world is a cycle. Do good, do good, do good.
There are people in this world who intentionally set out to hurt people. When I discover this is their MO, then I will walk away. No fuss, no quarrel, no begging, no remourse. Just say thank you for the experiences and wish them all the best in their future endeavours.
Here are some of the lyrics to this must-play tune....
LYRICS
The World Is A Cycle
And Everything Weh Happen Yes It Come Roun In A Circle [x2]
Got to check the step you take
and every breath you make
Because the little things you do
is comin back at you
The ditch you dig it might just be your destiny
I might just rise above the odds regain my victory
Ay- do right do right do right do right do right
Do good do good do good do good do good
[Chorus:]
The World Is A Cycle
And Everything Weh Happen Yes It Come Roun In A Circle
NB. The comment thingy may not be working. Technical glitches am trying to sort out.
Imagine that......it's December already! The year soon done!
When you look back on 2007, what do you see? What did you achieve? For me, it was an interesting year.
There was Cricket World Cup and all the highs and lows associated with it; there was England to bond with friends and of course watch the West Indies lose AGAIN; there was a wedding which turned out beautifully when days before, the news would have made any bride have a nervous breakdown; and of course, in the latter months, I discovered more of Grenadian life. All these experiences have helped to shape me more and get me to know me even better.
Now over the past week, I am discovering what are the REALLY important things in life. This is a new month to cap off a soon-to-be old year. I may be in my fifth decade (Pops keeps reminding me of that!), but ah sure don't feel it, don't look it, and I don't know what it's supposed to act like, but I know my outlook is youthful.
Mother said she read the following and thought of me. She knows me. My small circle of friends know me, and they, I believe, are grateful for my friendship, as I am for theirs. Read the following....
>To get where you wish to go, you must take an active role in
> the journey. Though many good and valuable things are
> constantly flowing into your life, it is up to you to make
> something meaningful out of them.
>
> No one else can live your life for you. That is your biggest
> responsibility and your greatest opportunity.
>
> Your dreams and desires, passions, opinions, preferences and
> interests are yours for a reason. The more sincerely and
> completely you give life to them, the more genuine
> fulfillment you will know.
>
> Beauty is what you know it to be. Joy is what you experience
> it as being.
>
> The meaning of life is the meaning you give to it. Deep
> down, you know what to do.
>
> Dive into the pure joy of being you. For there is so very
> much you are able to be and to give.
>
> Ralph Marston
Yes....deep down, I know what to do. There is so very much I am able to be and to give.
Went to see the movie 'No Reservations' tonight. Many similarities between the lead character and me. She - Kate - is a Chef whose life is thrown upside down when her sister dies and she has to look after the kid. She is single and very much into her career. She has all these rules about things....she doesn't eat during the day, she doesn't eat dessert and she doesn't drink on the job.
When she has to take some time off to adjust to life with the kid, the restaurant owner hires a Sous Chef who is a bit cooky and fun and off the cuff and spontaneous. Eventually, though the efforts of the kid, they hook up, but not without her rules coming up in everything.
I'm a bit anal-retentitive about certain things. Time keeping is one of them, and saying you are going to do something and not doing it is another. For example if you are talking to someone about plans for later and he says "I will call you" and he doesn't, that is a problem for me.
Because of her anal-retentitiveness about how her kitchen is to be run, the Sous Chef walks out of her kitchen and her life. She eventually realizes that she was being anal-retentive and goes to beg for him back. She had closed herself off from relationships for 3 - 4 years so this was a bit new to her.
As I started out by saying....many similarities between Kate and me.
It reminds me about what the young Customs Officer said to me on Friday when I came back from Barbados. He was waiting on the CSME stamp and he says "so what happen to your husband?" I was taken aback because he usually does not strike up a conversation like that. It's usually something like "how are you today". So I tell him that I don't have any, nor do I want any because oonu man is pure stress. He agreed to some extent, but also said the woman could be stress too.
He then asks me if it's because I am not looking. Yes, I reply. Then he said something which took me by surprise. "You must keep an open mind". After we ended the conversation, I asked him where the toilet was. On my way back from using it, he called out to me and said "Remember, keep an open mind!" I promised to.
So I will have No Reservations next time someone asks for my number to get to know me better. Well maybe not on the first meeting. I still want to keep that bit of anal-retentiveness about me!
You could never imagine anyone expressing gratitude for slavery, could you? Well a friend said this to me today and when I asked him why, this was his reponse.
"If it wasn't for slavery, I woulda been catching mah tail somewhere in Africa now. I'd probably have to be hiding from some warlord".
So, were it not for slavery, the seed that created Yamfoot could have been born in the Congo, or Ghana or Nigeria. Ever thought about that?
Speaking of which, I was showing a British lady around the hotel the other day. She knew I was from Jamrock. At the end of it, she said "but you have some British blood in you". Now I thought it was because she knew what my last name was and noted the similarity with that British name. No. That was not it. She said "you're very fair". I told her that lots of people in Jamaica look like me and that the British thing would have been from way back in the day.
In the wee hours of this morning, while I was wrapped up in my comfortable bed, a mother of one was losing her life because of the idiocy and irresponsible behaviour of an 18 year old.
Police signalled the driver of a car to stop at about 1:30am. It was coming off a road called 'the lane' which has an incline. It was also speeding.
The next thing, Ms Scott, who was in her bed sleeping, was transitioning this life because the driver lost control of the vehicle and crashed straight into her bedroom and landed on her bed, on top of her.
I understand that the driver was in hospital. He may have died, but not sure. He had two other passengers in the car. None had a valid drivers' licence it was reported.
The mother of the driver, understandably, was quite distraught. Can't blame her. But could she have prevented the type of behaviour exhibited by her son which ended the life of Ms Scott in such a bizare manner?
All who read here, post your arguments either in support of, or against, two people entering into a relationship with each other.
The personality learning, tip-toeing, compromise and having to think for two is exasperating and exhausting. Personally, I say just have sex.
Women or men should just have men or women (or women or men!) on demand. You feel to see this one tonight..... you call he. You want to see a different one another night, you call he. And everybody happy to get see you, even if it's just to talk or watch TV.
Lawks, dis sound so crass.
But seriously, why bother to go through all the headache that trying to establish a relationship (especially with somebody from a different culture) inevitably brings?
Let the best argument win!
Oh, I was talking to a friend on Messenger the other day and the conversation turned to men and relationships etc. So he asked what about me, if Grenada don't have no men. I told him yes, but I work 6 days a week, and then I don't go any where on the 7th to meet people. Work and home....home and work.
So he said to me...."you've chosen work over love then?". Can't work be love?
Was reading this story, and thought how familiar it sounded. If you've been reading this blog for a long time, you would have seen this entry.
It was a similar scenario, in a similar area, while doing a similar thing. And he was also shot in the armpit.
Island Spice had a blog entry about texts she received in the middle of the night from a fella.
First of all, I am relatively new to this texting thing. Maybe about 1.5 years. Didn't know how to do it before someone showed me. Can't say that I am a big texter, or indeed, user of a cell phone. I just don't know that many people, am never rushing around to meetings or caught in traffic or anything like that, so it is used only when necessary.
But at the point I read IS's blog entry, I had about 100 incoming texts in my Inbox. Most from one number.
Texting has its uses. Like now, while I am delayed in the airport, I can be texting (except that I did, but it don't seem to be wuking cause ah don't get no answer from both numbers I texted to). I don't like being disturbed from my sleep, so I would also be annoyed as IS was, if a text comes while you are enjoying a few Zzzzs. To prevent that, I put my phone on Silent when I go to bed. Not Vibrate, because that will wake me up.
But I have to say, that it's nice after turning during your sleep, you open your eyes to see the blue lighted envelope flashing.
The trivial texts I can do without, especially if it's not from a bonafide. But I certainly like seeing the envelope, get excited, and get pissed if it's a B-mobile generic message!
Ok.....gone to text. l8tr!
Here is a poem I wrote in English class for Miss Leyow. That was third form I think. 1979/1980.
It just highlights that all of my life, my focus has been on how large or small I was. Very poor indeed.
The First Years
A few years back I was always saying,
'Mummy may I have some more food?'
And Mummy would always say,
'Don't you want to be slim and trim?'
But at that time it didn't matter to me
If I was as slim and trim
as my sister, or Patsy Yuen, (NB. a former Miss Jamaica)
And then it suddenly dawned on me,
That if I wanted to be slim andn trim
Like my sister or Patsy Yuen,
I would have to stop eating as much
As I used to when I was younger.
I decided to clean up a book shelf here at home in Jamaica. It was interesting to go back in time. Some of the things I found included past test papers for various subjects, from 1979/1980. I got a D in an English Literature test, probably because I hadn't read the book. I HATED Literature. Now I have come to know the value of reading.
Another thing I found was some books from UWI Nassau. Had lunch yesterday with two friends who I met there and it seemed like just yesterday that we were there sharing a rickety board house on Gregory Street. But it is in fact 20 years! On 20 August 1987, I wrote in my Accounts book at 3:27pm that I was sleepy. That's 20 years ago! (Oh, I misssed quite a few 9am classes because I overslept....didn't hear the alarm!)
Now the Accounts story in Nassau is quite a story, and one which I tell very often to show what luck and determination can do.
I went through first year Accounts at UWI Mona without understanding the concept of Debit and Credit. But somehow, I got a C at the end of first year. I could do Bank Reconcilliation and Cash Budgeting. (I use neither in life today!). When I got to Nassau and we did the first mid term test, I think I got 46%. I went to the teacher and asked him for private extra lessons. He said no. (There was a good reason I learnt afterwards). Tears welled up in my eyes, because I realized that if I didn't understand that concept, I would be forever trying to catch up. I was up a creek!
Now another Jamaican friend was also a bit clueless, and a fellow student who had taken a shine to her, offered to teach her. I tagged along one night, not to be a student, but just to do something. I remember this quite clearly, and he reads this blog so maybe he can say if he remembers this.
I was at the back of the Annex (classroom), sitting on the desk dangling my legs, while my friend sat up front listening to him. Then suddenly, something he explained made me get it. The lightbulb moment people talk about really does happen. The next mid term test I got 76% and my Accounts teacher, the same one who refused to give me extra lessons, wrote on my paper "way to go girl, I knew you could do it". One of my proudest moments.
I ended up with a B+ for the final grade after the exam. The next Accounting course the following semester, I was the only student to get an A! Sweet!
Now in the other post, I will share something else.....
Everytime I put saltfish to soak, it reminds me of my high school Chemistry teacher, Joan Hollingsworth.
She became famous for the wrong reason when her life was snuffed out by an unknown assailant at the ATM in Premier Plaza. Claude Mills interviewed her husband in 2003, four years after it happened.
Anyway, here is why I remember her....
She taught me from first to fifth form. She was a pincher....she would walk around and inspect our uniforms, and if there were buttons missing, or the pocket was torn, she would administer a pinch. Ouch! Anyway, one day in class, she asked about the concentration of salt in water. Her question was if a solution has x parts of salt to y parts of water, if you halved the mixture and then added more water to each half, would the salt concentration be the same?
I forget what the answer was but when I put the saltfish to soak, I think of the concentration of salt in the water, and then about Mrs Hollingsworth.
I went all through high school without a detention or demerit, and she was the only teacher who ever threatened me with one, when I was talking one day in class, while she was talking. Big mistake. Tears welled up in my eyes, because there was no way I could go home and tell my parents I got a demerit. Anyway, she only threatened.
I started carrying roses from Mummy's garden for her, in an empty jam bottle. She was always very thrilled. One day, she forgot it in the classroom. My next class was with another teacher, and in the same classroom. She walked back into the classroom, picked up her jam bottle and said "my rothe goes every where I go." (She had a list tongue). I will always remember that.
I hope she still has thoughts of my rose with her, wherever she is now.
Hartley Neita has written an interesting article on being educated more about Britain than Jamaica....and the region.
I can relate to a few things in that article. Although I did CXC history, I cannot remember learning any details about my Caribbean neighbours. During high school history however, I learnt about the French Revolution and other things about European History. I even remember us having to do a skit about something to do with the French Revolution.
I also recall being taught about the Industrial Revolution in Britain.
Am not sure what people now are being taught in history, but I do know that more about the Caribbean has been included. Even in primary school, I see children having to know the capitals of Caribbean islands. We are becoming Caribbeaners!
Oh, although I never had anybody coming up to rub my face, I did have an old English lady ask "can I touch it?" in reference to my hair. She then asked me all sorts of questions about it. Then while I was at school in Nottingham, one of my British classmates was disappointed when I cut my 'fro low. She said she liked to see my hair high....it was so spongy, she said, and proceeded to touch it.
Many years ago, I formed the opinion that England did nothing for its former colonies in the Caribbean. This evening, while waiting at a bus stop by the cricket ground in Headingley, Leeds, this thought ran across my mind again.
I thought about countries like Martinique and Guadeloupe, still under French rule, which I understand are quite modern in bits. Will be going to Guadeloupe next month so will see what that is like.
If England was interested in helping its colonies, it would have...
1. Arranged that all its citizens received the benefits of free education, instead of restricting it to the wealthy.
2. Developed the infrastructure in the colonies on par or at the same rate at which it was developing theirs in England.
Just doing those two up to 1962 (or is it 1964....I can never remember when Jamaica got their independence!) would have influenced how Jamaica turned out.
Grenada too. In Grenada, had they educated more of the masses, there would not have been a revolution. I maintain that people were easily led by the Bishop-Coard faction because many of them were uneducated, so it was easy to put guns in their hands.
So perhaps it was understandable that Mike Henry walked out when the British Minister was saying that there should be no talking about no funds for colonies, but for Africa instead. Steups.
Britain, and all the other nations who colonized helpless islands and killed off their natives, should feel ashamed.
Those of you reading this blog long enough would have read this story about making a decision whether I should go to the US university that I had been given a full Assistantship to.
That university was Virginia Tech. If I had gone, I would have been finishing in 2008 which means I would have been registered as a student there still, and still on campus. I would have been a research student. I'm sure I wouldn't have been in Norris Hall or that dormitory where the first two shootings took place, but you just never know. It's also possible that I would have been in Grenada watching cricket because I was not going to mek dat miss me!
Somebody up there is looking out for me. This is such a sad thing, but as somebody on my cricket message board says, there are several soldiers killed in Iraq every month too. But both are just sad and unnecessary, given what we know now about the VT shooter's history, and of course there were no weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.
Life. A sad, sometimes funny thing.
What's wrong with me? I've found that approaching 40 and more recently since I turned 40, I find myself more and more wondering if I made the right decision not to have children.
It was a very conscious decision. It wasn't that because I didn't get married, I didn't have any because, cuss me or not, I don't think that one has to be married to have a child so I was never constricted by that thinking.
I just never saw myself having kids. Heck....I never saw myself having sex! I remember a conversation with a friend when I was about in 4th or 5th form, and I've probably told it here before. We were having lunch and the talk turned to contraceptives. I declared that I was not ever going to use them. Even from that age, the thought of altering normal inbuilt bodily functions didn't find favour with me.
My friend said 'so what are you going to do about preventing numberous pregnancies if you get married?' I replied that I would onlly have sex when I wanted a kid! And I was serious! I thought back then that sex was only for conception, not for enjoyment. I've since learnt differently.
What triggered this latest pondering is that I recently met a teenager who was so sociable, well mannered, humourous, well adjusted, polite, and articulate. I thought to myself that I could have turned out a kid like that.
Who knows....maybe there is still time. But that would require a change in lifestyle and I'm kind of selfish that way I find. But I keep wondering if when I reach 70...sorry, that should have been if....and I have to be calling up my niece and nephew for company or to take me to the supermarket, that I will deeply regret it.
I see that Geena Davis had twins at 50. I'm only 40.5. Maybe I should look for some eggs, what you think? But then, it's like me not having a desire to buy a house because then I'd have to HAVE to have a steady job. If I have a kid, I'd have to be RESPONSIBLE.
I also think that if I have a kid at this age, I might as well just cut off the two breasts after I done breastfeeding. Lawks.
But you never can tell. Maybe a man with whom I think I want to have a kid is just around the corner, and he'll be financially secure so I wouldn't have to worry. And remember, if he loves Ackee & Saltfish, he wouldn't leave so financially, the family would be secure.
Better start downing my antioxidants now!
Everytime I travel and look out the window, I wonder if this is what heaven looks like. Is this where Bob Woolmer is? Seems pretty peaceful doesn't it?
I had the good fortune to be taught one lesson by Rex Nettleford when I was doing a four week Advanced Human Resource Development course at UWI in 1996. I guess the lesson had to do with labour and how our history affected it....can't remember. I just remember being mesmerized by this man's delivery, recall and articulation. Excellent lecturer. So accomplished.
So although I don't have a very good attention span, I am about to read his address to the United Nations. If you're interested, click here. It's about the slave trade, something which I have always been interested in.
Here is what I posted on the cricket message board, where someone started a thread
There was more on Entertainment Report tonight. They interviewed a newspaper journalist who wrote the story, Lisa Hanna former Miss World and Carlene the Dancehall Queen.
Lisa Hanna say when she won miss world, that was one of the first things the organizers sat her down and talked about. It was also in her contract that she could not get pregnant.
The funniest of them all was Carlene the former/first/ original Dancehall queen who was never too shy to wear skimpy clothes and put her puunaaaany on show.
She seh dat how...
1. The woman not married (Miss Carlene have a baby for Beenie Man...dem nuh married)
2. Is just one year, why she couldnt wait. Is not like seh har body clock ticking.
3. She hear seh is fi a new boyfriend
4. She shoulda get punished. It wasnt enough for her to just give up the crown, there should have been a consequence.
Now I know y'all not concerned with the fact she have to give up di crown.
Oounu want to know if...
1. Like Dukes say "The man tell har he guh jes ress de head pon de outside."
2. The condom broke
3. The pill didnt work
4. There was no pill nor no condom
The fact of the matter is....if you have sex, you can get pregnant, whether you using birth control or not.
and further, is not none of oonu biznis. the girl do what she have to do ie give up di crown. Let her deal with the internal wranglings she might be having at supposedly failing the public.
I think people are disaapointed because I understand she was a very nice girl, very bright and outgoing and bubbly. Much like Terri karelle who went before her. So people thinking dem accidental tings (any of oonu who tink that was planned, think again) dont happen to nice upstanding ppl like Miss Lawrence.
I hope she is strong mentally to deal with all who going to open dem mouth. I wish her well. Dat is going to be one raas good looking pickney.
One of the reasons I am glad for these breaks is that I get back to Jamaica for Pilates. You've read my many posts about how great it is and how great the teacher is. Everytime I come back to a class, the teacher says "Michelle! You're back!). I missed the class on Tuesday because that's the day I flew in and the class is at 10am.
Wednesday evening I was there and as I flexed and pointed I thought how, were it not for this blog, that first timer would have been just another random Kingston Girl. Welcome to Pilates! Stick it out. In 6 weeks, with at least 3 classes per week, some cardio and modified eating, you will see results.
It was also in an exercise class, this time in Grenada, where, were it not for this blog, that girl in the large T-shirt, would have been just another Ying Yang girl.
All hail the power of the blog.
Had some friends staying with me and they left on the early flight this morning. Tried to go back to sleep but I couldn't. Decided to go walking instead. Just down the road from me, I came upon a group of people, saw a Caution tape" and didn't think anything of it. Lo and behold when I reached closer to the area, I see a dead man covered up with cloth, blood flowing from his upper body.
The area has an open air bar which is very lively. Made a few calls and heard that he may be a "jumby" from Woburn and that some men drove up last night/early this morning, some bottles were broken and he was cut. Then I heard that when they were on their way back to the Woburn area, they crashed. I understand that police caught two of the perps.
But imagine, the only dead person I ever see in Jamaica was the victim of a motor vehicle accident, and I come to peaceful Grenada and see a murdered soul. Who would have thunk it?
Tonight when I was walking home, people by that area were seemingly going about their normal business. Perhaps they were talking about what had transpired the night before. But perhaps some didn't know what had transpired and people would have been unknowingly walking over the very place where this man took his last breath.
There is an article in today's Observer.
This quote had me cracking up....
He's still alive and still sc------ around with the fat woman he left me for. What can I do? I divorced the ass---- and took my children. I got the house and the car and he had to rent an apartment. I still hate him and the hate grows everyday.
I still can't believe he left me for a fat woman. I still dream of killing him."
Lady, one question. What is wrong with a fat woman? They can't get man too?????????
I didn't get to the new 'cinemawr' (British pronounce it like that) until tonight. Saw Blood Diamonds and I am glad I did.
The summary is about the diamond trade and how it results in war and death, child soldiers and so on in Africa. Leonardo DiCaprio was brilliant. His accent was very good and he really played the character well. He's a Rhodesian who was a soldier and left that to trade diamonds on his own.
He hears about a black man, captured by the rebel government, who has found a pink diamond. Apparently that is very valuable....I wouldn't know because I've never owned a diamond in my life. He arranges for the man Solomon to be released, befriends the man, who is desperately searching for his family who was taken away, in the hope that he will lead him to the diamond, and therefore his fortune.
The story progresses well and we see glimpses of the white massa trying to rule the black baboon, but lots of compassion too. Go see it. Very violent in parts. My brother's boss was sitting beside me and he said it's so violent that he was thinking of walking out of the theatre. He didn't. As I told him, even though I am from Jamaica, I also found it violent. The slums, the guns, the terror....all of that made me think about Jamaica.
Anyway, I took the bus (two bus stops away) to and from, and as I was walking from the bus stop home around 9:40pm, I gave thanks for the peaceful country I live in, where all I have to fear is those two dogs I have to watch in case they decide to rush me like last time. It's the simple things that no money or no diamonds can buy. I have it here in Grenada.
I always tell people not to get stressed over things because things just always seem to work out.
Got a monetary gift yesterday which was totally unexpected but very much appreciated....and needed.
And just like that, I coul hop, skip and jump to the bank this morning thinking that I woulda been getting grey hairs for nothing, if I were the type to let things bother me. You gotta think hard enough about something, and it will come through (or is it 'true"?...I'm never sure!) It has been proven with me time and time again. You must try it.
All the mothers who read this blog gwine chastize me on this one!
Am in the Barbados airport departure lounge. A lady with a baby has just whipped out a breast and has proceeded to feed the kid, right in front of me.
I change seats so that I now have a view of the toilet entrance. Why can't nursing women find a private spot to satisfy their children's hunger? I must ask my mother if she did that with me. Ugh. Had I had any children, and people were visiting when I needed to feed Yambo, I would politely ask them to excuse me and go somewhere private.
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!
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.
I just wrote in the Elan Parle entry that I played piano for 15 years. Just heard that my teacher for 13 of those years, Fay Ennevor Robotham, collapsed at home yesterday and is no longer with us.
I believe I started going to her because my cousin was going to her. We both lived in Mona. There was a piano at home - both my mother and granny used to play. I don't know if I displayed an interest in the piano...I really don't remember that at all, but anyway, the next thing I was walking down Palmoral Avenue, crossing Mona Road and heading down Karachi Avenue to music lessons.
She was a spinster throughout my time as her student. She used to teach, piano, violin and voice. She herself had a lovely voice, I believe a soprano.
I used to hear stories from friends about their teachers rapping them on the knuckles with a ruler when they didn't play something properly. Not my Miss Ennevor. If you hadn't practised sufficiently, she would just gently let you know you had to work harder, and she would insist that you come in on your own time to practise.
During the turbulent Manley years, she went away to Canada. When the new term started and my father dropped me off, the house was locked up. We assumed she had migrated, so I was enrolled at the School of Music. I didn't like it. After two years, I went back to Miss Ennevor. School of Music didn't believe in exams so I had lost two years, after getting a distinction in Grade 1.
She made me do both Grade 4 and 5 in one year. Boy that was taxing, but I succeeded, getting a distinction in Grade 4 and a merit in Grade 5. I was marching towards my diploma. By then, I was in university at Mona and I suppose I lost interest a bit. Plus the antique piano we had at home was on her last legs. No tone, no proper sound so it wasn't exciting to hear the notes.
I then left for Nassau to complete my degree and there endeth my piano lessons. Whenever I see a piano, I sit and try and remember some pieces. My grandmother left her piano to me when she passed away so one day I will get back to it.
I won't have Miss Ennevor to teach me. She had by now married the gentleman who always used to visit when I was still her student. They got married after I left.
Robert (Mr Endicon) became her voice student and he went on to be quite a splendid barritone (or is it bass barritone?). The last time I saw her was in the supermarket on one of my trips home this year. She was looking well. The time before that was at a function at Robert's house when he came home for holidays from England. She was looking well. If I had to guess, I would say she would have been about 75. A good life still. She was a great teacher, very gentle, very in touch with her students, knew what each of their strengths and weaknesses were, and wanted the best for all.
Rest in peace Miss Ennevor.
(SEE UPDATES IN COMMENTS). And a new post is below.
You just never know what this life is going to throw at you.
One of my friends who was to have been at my birthday fete this Saturday, passed away last night suddenly. I believe it was while undergoing emergency surgery. I would guess she was about 34 or 35.
She was bubbly, even as she battled that dreaded disease Lupus. Everytime we spoke, she was always upbeat and positive.
I first met her when she was about 6 or 7, on the netball courts. Our mothers both played netball for Jamaica. Her mother had by then retired and was living in the country. They came in for something that was happening at the stadium.
I didn't have any contact with her again until she came to work at the hotel in Kingston where I was working, after doing similar studies like I did in Nassau.
She hated the job.
Her real passion was to work with kids, and after a couple of years, she got a scholarship to do her Masters in Chicago. I believe it was in Early Childhood Education.
Then she was happy. This is what she wrote in one of her emails to me last year February...
Other than that (she had updated me on her health), school is going great. I have 4 and 5 year olds in Kindergarten and I just love it. We have a lot of fun and the work load is so much easier.
By then, she had been diagnosed. Her body took a beating, with the different medications she was on. We always kept in contact. She would write me from Chicago, that was before email was around. She went to visit her brother (who she knew I had a bit of a crush on since she would tell me when he was coming for her at work, so that I would bake pineapple upside down cake for him, which he loved) and gave me reports.
While I was in England studying, she would pop up on Messenger ever so often and we would chat. She would update me on her health. Once, when I hadn't heard from her in a while, she emailed to say that while in Europe (she married an Italian), she took ill and had to have emergency surgery in Germany I believe it was.
But she was always positive. When I would moan while in Nottingham, that I was putting on back weight because I couldn't afford the university's gym, she encouraged me to exercise in my room. She used to exercise to Tae Bo videos and do sit ups and such the like and I was inspired.
I went out and bought a step. I would marvel that despite everything that she endured, she would be like the birds you hear in the morning at first light. Very chirpy. Whenever I thought I was having struggles, I would remember that hers were much much much greater than anything I have ever endured. Her kidneys had been attacked and she did dialysis twice per week. When she replied to my invitation on Evite.com 6 days ago, she said...
I'll see if (her brother) will be up that weekend - and then it depends on how I feel after dialysis that day... ;K!
My memories of the last two times I saw her was first at the Quad one Wednesday night (Dr D, you were there) and at a fete called Good Times, which plays 70's / 80's music.
I know she will be there in spirit, and I know she would want the party to go on.
Rest in peace dear bright bubbly positive friend. Gone Too Soon
When someone passes away, the first thing I do is think about all the interactions I've had with them, when was the last time I spoke with or saw them, I look up correspondence I've had from them - letters or emails and I look for pictures of them. I also write about them either in my journal or on this blog. Hopefully this blog won't die!
I don't ever want to forget the people who were special to me who have departed.
I also talk about them long after they are gone. In our family, we will share jokes about people who have passed away, or talk about what they always used to do or say. This is how we try to keep the memories alive. If you don't then the departed one becomes a distant memory and I don't think that is right.
How do you preserve the memories of your departed ones?
Over the last couple of months, there have been a few incidents which made me start to wonder if I am beginning early onset of dementia and forgetfullness and all the things that being 'old' brings with it.
For example, I would put it in my brain that I had to tell somebody something. When I tell them what I wanted to tell them, they say that I've already told them that! Ok, so that might not be so bad.
But the following incident has got me concerned....
One day last week, I met a colleague making his way home saying he had forgotten his iron on at home and was going to turn it off. I laughed at his folly. When I reached home later that day, I was horrified to find that I too had left my iron plugged in for the whole day.
Ok, so that was bad and not so bad.
On Saturday afternoon I left home to camp out in the hotel for two days. I reached back home last night, Monday, to find my iron plugged in!
It's not the fact that it would have sent my electricity bill sky high for the month. Rather, it is the realization that the brain sometimes displays its age! Ginko Biloba? What other solutions are out there? Doing Soduku puzzles and crossword puzzles every day?
Dang this is scary!
Just read this article and wonder why the Jamaica Employers Federation quibbling over an extra 2 weeks of maternity leave.
That would bring it up to 14 weeks. 14 weeks!!!!!!???????? That is hardly enough! If we want to be a progressive society, the Maternity Leave Act should be 12 months with full pay. Ok, I will make a concession. 3/4 pay. That way, mothers can bond with their children and not have to leave them with people who might end up harming them!
The company where the new mother works would have at least 6 months to train a replacement to cover for the time the mother is on leave. That will strengthen the organization since you now have two people who can do a job.
Steups. Things like this just piss me off! This, and quibbling over increase of salaries to teachers, nurses, policemen and doctors. These are some of the most important persons in society. Just make the criteria for selection into these fields high, so you don't get riff raff entering. Then implement a proper Performance Management system to ensure that good performers are rewarded, and poor performers get the support/coaching/training/education to be good performers, and after that if they don't succeed, then you separate.
I want to be prime minister.
Today is my departed paternal grandmother's birthday. Can't remember how old she would have been today, if she had not passed away in February 2004.
Celebrate well Grandma G!
I try to tell people all the while that you must live the kind of life you want to live right now. All those people who kill up themselves at work and literally kill themselves before they ready, through stress which then leads to all kind of illnesses, what is that for?
You miss out on the enjoying of life, chasing the stresses of work. And then, is only when you nearly leave this Earth that you realize what is important, and that maybe it wasn't working a 70 hour week!
Anyway, this gentlemen got wise after he nearly died in a gas explosion.. It took that to make him wake up and smell the cofee.....or is it the rosies? Well, smell whatever it is you want to smell, but smell it now!
In my present contract, I work 9 months out of the year. If my employers had offered me the standard contract with just 3 or 4 weeks vacation, I would have said no. I like my job very much, but there is more to life than work.
I like living alone, there is no question about it. But one of the downsides is that when you don't feel quite right, there is noone to turn to. No Mummy to call so I can feel safe and secure. No nephew to tell how I am feeling.
These past couple of days, my heart has felt funny, or maybe it's just the muscles around my heart. I have always had missed beats and you might have read on here about me doing ECG's or going to the Heart Institute of the Caribbean. As always, nothing is wrong. Well HIC Dr Edwards said the next step would be to do a holtmeter or something like that where they read your heart for 24 hours during which time you cannot bathe. Hmmmm.
So going to sleep is no fun I tell you, because I am lying there thinking always "is this my last night?", "Is this cause for alarm?" I know when I do certain exercises, my spine goes out of whack. I had a mishap in 2001 which causes this to happen. When my spine goes out of whack, my head also goes out of whack. I guess the misalignment causes the blood flow to the brain to go out of whack too.
So essentially I am out of whack I get. Plus each morning I wake up, I don't feel rested and then I feel tired througout the day. I don't normally drink coffee, but I find myself reaching for a cup everymorning, or at about 4 in the afternoon. Never more than one cup per day though. Of course, coffee and a funny heart beat don't really go together init!
Each time I feel out of whack, I wonder if my thinking for many years that I wouldn't live to see 40 will be a self fulfilling prophesy. I hope not! I continue to exercise in my countdown to 40.
You recall my Living to 40 not guaranteed entry where I spoke about Jacki, gone at a young age.
Her niece left a link to the website created to commemorate her life. I just realized she was close to 42. Didn't realize she was older than I am. She was always so bubbly and vivacious and if you read the comments left by her past students, you will see.
This has left me teary eyed this morning, and of course thinking again about the fragility of life as we know it and the need to really live life to the fullest and with dignity and honest and respect and compassion for all.
Go have a look. Goodbye Jacki
That quotation is from Indra K Nooyi who will take over as CEO of PepsiCola on October 1
This was the same attitude I took when I did my Masters in the UK. Plus I was not only foreign, but black and with natural nappy hair and so from day one, I found out what I would have to do to get a distinction, and worked towards it.
Graduating as one of only 14 (along with Safari) out of about 150 was very satisfying, and it brought new respect for me from some of the office staff, most notably the Head of School's secretary. It's amazing what being bright and intelligent can do for you!
I'm currently watching the Miss Teen USA and they have just announced the final 15. I didn't say any black person in that, and there were quite a few from some of the states.
Hmmmm. Don't they know there is supposed to be a token black? But actually, one of the girls look kinda mixed. So maybe that counts?
Some one close to our family passed away a few days ago. He was 91 or 92, so lived a long life. His wife transitioned before him, in 1992.
If you remember reading this blog in February 2004 and March 2005 and seeing that I went to Mandeville, he would be my evening company at dinner if the other members of the household were out. I'm a very patient person, so even when, in the later years, he would repeat stories, I would still listen.
And ask many questions I would too. I am fascinated by changes in societies and lifestyles over time, so on my prompting, he told me how it was when he was a young man, having just finished teacher's college, all the various places in Jamaica that he was transferred to, how he met his wife, how he wooed her, about catching the train downtown after she visited (or maybe he was the one who would come to Kingston). Just fascinating. You could tell that they had real love for each other.
He was a stalwarth of the ruling party, so there were stories about early political life as well. Very enriching and I enjoyed the talks we had immensely.
After I would come back from Alpart, he would ask how the day went. We would share the newspaper, I would encourage him to walk, even if it was to the gate and back, so he could get some exercise.
I am glad that I got to spend those two cricket seasons in Mandeville. His transition was brief and peaceful. I suspected it would have come soon, when I heard, while I was in Jamaica, that he was not eating. That's always a sign.
This brings the question about transitioning.
If you had a choice, how would you like to transition? I know that if my parents showed signs of slipping away, I would be at their bedside morning noon and night, no matter where in the world I was. It actually terrifies me to be away from Jamaica, for that reason alone. That's why I go back so often, so that if there was a sudden transitioning, at least it would not have been more than four or so months since I last saw the family.
I would be holding their hand, letting them know that I was with them in spirit, even if they couldn't feel me physically. I felt badly that no family member was with both my grandmothers when they passed. If I can help it, I won't let that happen. The finality of the physical transition just dictates that you're there to say your last goodbye.
Well, I tell you. The mind is certainly a strange thing.
The other night I could not sleep. Went on the internet, chatted on the cricket message board, asked for suggestions are to how to get back to sleep. Decided in the end to have some peanut butter and low sugar jam (one of the best snacks ever!). Took a Cataflam, cause the lower back muscles were feeling 'a way'.
Well that certainly knocked me out....and I suspect it caused me to have the weird dream.
I am preggers, I go into labour. Guess who is delivering me? My sister (she has had two kids) and her vet friend. Guess what I spit out about an hour later. Sextuplets! And they are in individual sacks like puppies! But wait....they are puppies!
Yamfoot gave birth to six puppies. But I have to say, after they came out, (and it wasn't painful), I felt this feeling of euphoria. I guess this is what mothers talk about. But I am promising you that my experiencing these feelings will only happen in my dreams!
I've probably commented here a few times about the end of one's life not being certain, and me for one had this thought when I was a teenager that I wouldn't live past 40 (just because some boy that I liked, actually he was about 5 or 6 years older than me so he was a "big man" to me dem times, said that that is why he wasn't getting married, cause him not going to live past 40).
Of course you know my 40th is in October. Surprisingly, I am taking this year in stride, flying all over the place, not ever thinking that the plane going to crash and the not-living-to-40-thought would become a self-fulfilling prophesy. As they say in Jamaica, if yuh born fi heng, yuh cyant drown!
Anyway, everytime I hear of the passing of a young person, I am concerned. Heard of another such last night.
Her name is Jackie. I have known her from prep school because she went to the same one that my brother went to and she played on the netball team which my mother coached. Then she joined me at St Hugh's. I think she is about 38 or so. Yesterday morning she died of breast cancer presumably. She leaves behind a very young baby. My niece would be quite distraught over the news because Jackie went back to teach at the same prep school she went to, which is where my niece and nephew go to/went to, and Jackie looked out for the kids.
Life. So unpredictable.
I don't know if enigma is the right word, but what I mean to say is, with all that is wrong in Jamaica, tourists still come. Rather, more and more tourists come each year.
And Grenada, peaceful serene Grenada, is struggling!
Life is not measured with the quantity of breaths you take but with the quantity of moments that took your breath away!!
....she would have been celebrating her 97th birthday today. Hope you are resting well Grandma. (Actually she's tucked away at home somewhere).
She was in an advanced state of Alzheimers so I guess it was better for her to have been released from that hell.
Live it well and always think about what might be around the corner....
I try to tell people not to work up themselves over things they have no control over. So when I got an urgent message at work to call the landlord, this was going to be a test of that way of thinking. I just didn't know it yet.
I selpt in the hotel on Sunday night and Monday night. Shoulda gone home Tuesday, but because of what I had to do, I needed to be close by. I ended up planning to go back home on Thursday.
I come out of a training session to get this urgent message. I called the lady and she said she's not sure what happened, or when it happened but all of my things that were on the floor got wet. The pipe leading in to the washing machine burst, most probably with the fluctuation in water pressure that NAWASA has been sending down lately.
Because I am not really all that comfortable in the apartment (Jamaica = flat), I had not unpacked fully. So my suitcases were on the ground in the bedrooms. All the contents got wet. These included my folder with school certificates and work stuff, as well as unused journals.
Well, as I said to the lady, what's done is done, so I wouldn't be rushing home as I still had things to do at work. I reached home after 9pm to find that she had washed all my clothes, and put my papers out to dry.
Wasn't that so nice of her? She had also mopped up the water and generally tidied up. I was grateful. However, I kept thinking that she would have come in an seen the place in the mess (I just don't have the energy after a 12 hour day).
With kindness like that, how can I leave?
Here today, gone tomorrow. That's how it was with John....
If I were leaving work too late, I would take one of the hotel's taxi drivers home. John was the last one I took. That night when I called him to come for me, he said he had just turned into his driveway and had not yet come out of the car so it was good timing. I can't remember what we spoke about on the way home. Could have been the Bob Marley music playing on the radio.
The next day when I called him, there was no answer. His lady friend called back to say she was with him in the Casualty department, and he would be moved to the Surgical ward. Illness is private, so I didn't pry. Just told her to tell him get well soon.
Five days later he was dead. Gone. Just like that.
Live your life and live it well, and don't malice people, and don't have wicked intentions towards them, because just like John, you could be gone in a flash. What is the lasting impression that you would like the people you knew to have of you? Think on these things.
By the laws of averages, I am not supposed to be here....
First, in 1972, I nearly died from appendicitis. Stomach was hurting me for a couple of days. When I refused food I was taken to the doctor because my mother knew I had to be ill. Dr Bell said take her to hospital immediately. Operated on that same night. Told mummy that if they didn't come out by a certain time, well.....
But I made it.
Then, when I was about 17 or 18, I was driving down Jacks' Hill, trying to keep up with a friend in front of me who lived on the hill. I had on the regular car lights. I switched it on at a point and saw a white concrete wall in front of me which I barely avoided. My brother was in the car with me. Not sure if he knew that was a near miss. I was going pretty fast.
Then in 2004, was being driven back from Alpart from cricket. We were in a line of traffic with a clear vision of what was ahead. The driver decided to overtake, then at the same time, the car he was overtaking decided to overtake the one infront of him, without indicating! I am sure I let out an expletive, then closed my eyes when I saw us going over onto the soft shoulder of the side of the incoming traffic. We were going at at least 80 miles per hour. If there was a lamp pole on the other side, or if a car was coming, that would have been it. "Cricket journalist killed in three car collision". But the driver was very skillful, and remained very calm.
So have you had any near misses that you still count your blessings for?
I always knew that sometime soon, parents of my friends would start to pass away. This past week there were two
Adwoa's father passed on, and so did LMT/Poor but Polite's. Both post on here occasionally.
Of course, it starts me thinking again "how many more years do I have my parents for?"
Longevity is in the genes. My mother's mother died at 91, and my father's mother at 88 or thereabouts. The parents are in their 60's now, so I am figuring another 20 years or so. I'm going to make the most of that time. Life....we don't know where it is going to take us.
Just read this article in the Jamaica Gleaner about taking the bus in Jamaica....something I haven't done since about 1985.
I thought about how different taking the bus is here. I take the bus all the time, usually every Saturday as I travel to 'town' to find my fruits and veggies for the week. I stand at the bus stop, say hello to whoever is there, the bus comes, I jump in the front (I'm a front seat person), talk to the driver....usually to ask him why he doesn't have on his seat belt!
Music is usually playing, and it's normally reggae.
Now there is a method to getting a bus here. While walking on the road, if you hear a bus tooting from behind, just shake your head if you don't want it. Also, if you haven't quite reached the bus stop yet, be on the look out for a bus to stop and toot to you, to find out if you need the bus. Such service!
No eventualities; no fear of pick pockets, or worse, a gun hold up. I'm off today, and of course, I am going to jump on a bus and go to 'town', in the front seat of course!
I am one of those persons who don't like to ask people to do favours for me, especially when it will negatively affect other people. I know the Operations Manager for one of the NCB branches. I have been in the bank many times, chatted to her and not asked her for a "skip".....and the lines have been long in that branch on most of the occasions that I have been.
But true as how Monday was the day before my departure and mi did have nuff tings fi deal wid, I went into the bank, saw that the line was long, and immediately asked for her. I was out of there within 7 minutes....about 38 minutes less time than if I had had to wait in the line.
Now this friend of mine, we go way way back.....
....all di way back to primary school in fact, on Duke Street, in front of the Ministry of Home Affairs...as it was called back then. After primary school, she went to Wolmers and I went to St Hughs so we lost track, and then I bucked her up while I still lived in Jamaica and I went into the bank one day. Now my Dad works at that company so we keep in touch through him.
One incident in particular I will always remember about her. My mother used to be so caught up in her work that she sometimes came for me late, that was on the days that I didn't walk down to East Queen Street and take the number 22 bus from in front of Coke Methodist Church.....ah.....the good old days of being able to take the bus without worry.
So it was late this particular afternoon. I would say close to 5pm. Everybody else had left the compound. But she stayed with me, waiting on Mummy. She was then going to take the bus to where she lived near Cross Roads at the time. Well, while we were there, a man stopped by the back gate of the school, which is on John's Lane, and said "hey girl, come here". Well of course nervous me start to panic. My friend said very bravely "don't go to him Yamfoot, don't go". He evetually walked off and I ran off across the road to the Ministry to wait at the house of the caretaker. Oh, I forgot to say that at one time, my mother worked at the ministry so we knew the caretaker well.
So these are the incidents that stick in my mind. And that was in about 1976 or 1977. Is long time dat you know. Nearly 30 years and it is as fresh in my mind as if it happened yesterday.
Went by a friend to play Mad Bull's favourite game, Kalooki, last night (they allowed me to win since I'm the "foreigner"), and left there after midnight. Home was a short 7 or so minutes away. For the duration of the ride, I drove as quickly as I could and also kept looking in the rear view mirror to ensure that no car was following me. At the moment that I saw a set of lights too close, I turned on my indicator and hoped that the driver would turn the other way, which they did.
I considered driving on Charlemont, but I thought that having to slow down for the sleeping bumps would give a preying criminal opportunity to pounce, so I drove up Widcombe Road instead. This is how I think whenever I drive in Jamaica.
I never have these thoughts in Grenada.
Another note about looking back through the rear view mirror....
You can live your life that way, always looking behind you, in the past, to cry over spilt milk, lament over choices gone bad, or see if your past or your fears are catching up to you.
Or..
You can look forward, at the road ahead, carefully thinking about the different twists and turns you can take to get where you want to go (of course, one must have a destination in mind!), then choose one and enjoy the ride. If it doesn't lead you to where you thought you wanted to go, maybe you didn't really know where you were going and need to re-think that, or maybe it was just the wrong road. Choose another and again, enjoy the ride and don't look back.
This cricketer last played for the West Indies in 1999. Lo and behold he is playing again. That must have been the longest ever wait in the wilderness.
Cricinfo, the kind of mother of all cricket sites, picked up the interview on their blog on 8 February, referring to it as "excellent".
I've known the cricketer for about 11 years now and it's nice to see how he has matured.
So said my god sister to me at the gym last week. She said she had seen my sister who told her I was in Grenada. I told her I was going back for a longer time this time. She commented how "those islands slow....not as aggressive as Jamaica".
Well I guess if it's aggressive you want, you stay in Jamaica, but as I told her it's very calm and serene and peaceful in Grenada. She has been, because she used to be a travel agent so she knows "dem small islands deh" well. I was encouraging her to check some of them out when she made that comment.
The thing is, a lot of Jamaicans don't know how life is in "dem small islands". I really hope CSME changes perceptions about what I consider some of the jewels in this region.
In the film Last Holiday, Queen Latifah had a book she called Book of Possibilities. This was a book where she placed information or pictures about all the things in life she would like to experience.
There was a holiday in Prague where some famous Chef worked; several pictures of meals she had created - she wanted to own her own restaurant/bistro; and a picture of her and a guy at work she liked, getting married. She worked at a retail store and didnt like the way she was treated, but she stuck wtih it anyway.
She had all these dreams, but instead lived in a box. It was only until she was diagnosed with a terminal disease that she started to pursue them.
Now this is what I am trying to get people to do...live your dreams NOW.
Why?
Cause you never know how much time you will be given. Heck....some people don't get any notice.
I remember in a training session in Summer 2004 I asked the groups this question...
"If you found out you had six months to live, how would you spend your life?" and then "Why aren't you doing those things now?" Kelly's sister looked at me with the look as if a light bulb had gone off in her head, and later that day she told me that I had stirred up some serious questions in her head.
So that's what I want to do here - ask all of you why are you waiting on a death sentence to do the things that you have always dreamed of?
Went to see this this afternoon at Carib. Very funny. Not as drop down funny as Hitch, but still funny enough to keep me laughing.
Now as a diagnosed hypochondriac, I could relate to Queen Latifah's news that she had a terminal illness. I could also relate to what she decided to do to spend her last days. Cash out all the money she had saved, and blow it on a mega holiday of her dreams....
Only thing is, I aint got no money to cash out, but I still coulda sell some stuff and get money to go to Anguilla and Turks and Caicos. Those are the next two islands to visit on my list, also Guadeloupe.
Now, if you found out you had little time to live, what would you do?
I have to say that the Batchelor candidate Travis, is gorgeous. I've never watched the show before, but since I saw the very first one, I will watch as much of it as I can.
Twenty five girls were chosen to fly to Paris, where the Batchelor is doing all his dating. At the end of the cocktail party, he chooses 12 girls to remain in Paris.
Well....
....Travis is an ER doctor and one of the candidates was Allie G who is also a doctor (oncologist). She was one of the ones to have to pack her bag and she made quite a scene when she wasn't chosen. She scared off Travis, when during her chit chat with him, she told him that the reason she wanted to find a mate and settle down was because she wanted to reproduce and that her eggs are getting old!
Come on now! And then she storms back in to ask him why he didn't pick her? Well I think the whole world saw, after that tiff, just why he shouldn't have picked her.
Now I am not sure that I would go about finding a wife so publicly, but so be it. Actuallly Travis didn't apply. He was walking down the street one day and the casting crew saw him and thought "oh, my God" and convinced him to go on the show.
Personally, I like Sarah the Kindergarten teacher from his hometown of Nashville Tennessee. The other Sara from Canada too young and flirty flirty. The the black haired one is just not to be trusted.
Stay tuned to the Batchelor and see who he picks. Some of the reality TV shows are interesting. I prefer to watch them than the sitcoms.
Have you ever watched that show on ABC on a Monday night? I first saw Wife Swap when I was living in England, so I believe it's a British import across the pond.
Two families swap wifes for two weeks. In the first week, the new wife has to live by the rules of the regular wife. Each wife writes a manual before hand of course. In the second week, the new wife gets to set the rules and the hussy and kiddies have to live by them. At the end, the two couples meet up and discuss what they learnt from the experience.
Well, tonight, one wife lurched across the table to slap the other wife, after some criticisms were hurled. Maaan oh mannnn. It was like Jerry Springer material! Anyway, they took three hours to cool off and then they were civilzed again.
Those of you who are wives, would you be comfortable with another wife coming into your house and basically pry on how you run the affairs of the house?
I heard the buzz about Desperate Housewives first season, so started watching it last year. Those of you who do, know that on Wisteria Lane, lives Mrs Betty Applewhite and her two sons, one of whom is mentally ill, broke into the Solices' house and made Gabrielle lose her baby.
Now last Sunday, the other son was caught necking with Bree's daughter. They're both teenagers. Miss Prissy Bree marked the necker and the neckee over to Mrs Applewhite's house to deposit her son, the necker. Mrs Applewhite promptly 'shot di bwoy a box' in his face.
It got me thinking that everything that has been portrayed about that family is quite negative. They are actually going to be leaving town. Lots of strange things have been happening to them and around them. And so I asked the question....couldn't the casting people and writers have made them a caucasian family???
...what do you do?
I remember Small Island Girl talking about her M-I-L offending her and I told her to have a word with her. Now I am faced with the question of whether I should tell another person how their actions and words affected me tonight. I'm not particularly close to the person, but I feel it is in our best interest to get things out in the open.
So how do you handle being pissed off? I couldnt have spoken to him about it when it happened last night, or else some words that I don't normally use woulda come outa mi mout!
Just heard by email of the death by a stroke of Pansy Hassan, one of the stalwarts of the National Dance Theatre Company in Jamaica. She retired a long time ago, however for the dance piece called Gerrehbenta, she would sometimes dance that role alongside founder Professor Rex Nettleford, and of course in the piece entitled Kumina.
One of her daughters, Stacy, danced with my sister. Stacy is a member of the NDTC as well.
Here is an entry I had done after I went last July to see the performance, which mentions Mrs Hassan.
It struck me that Mrs Hassan is probably just a little bit older than my mother. Bwoy, the thought of losing one of my parents scares me sh*tless.
I called a male guest today to check that everything he had sent out to the laundry had been returned.
He said "I don't do laundry. If there is any problem, my wife will let you know".
Talk about living in the past where the wives took care of everything.
Remember I told you some time ago, perhaps in several blog entries, that I grew up believing that I would live to be about 40? Well I am 39 now, so every ailment that afflicts me, I think seriously "but really, what if tonight were my last night on Earth?"
Tonight is one of those nights. Last night, I couldn't sleep because of a headache, and also it's party night in Grenada so cars were going up and down the road since the nightclub is up the road from where I am staying. The cars all chose to play their stereos as loudly as the nightclub. It was not appreciated.
What also wasn't appreciated I suspect, is the call I made to the Police station across the road, to complain about the noise. The officer, a Constable Josephs, was very courteous in asking me what he thought should be done. I told him to put one of their vehicles in the road, and stop people as they were passing and warn them about the loudness of the music.
"Pardon me miss, but can I ask you something? Have you ever seen them doing something like that in your country?" Well ah couldn't answer that yes, but anyway, that kept me awake until after 3. So I am operating on little sleep, and now I have a royal headache. I took two Paracetamol at about 6pm and that has not budged the headache one bit.
I am going to therefore have to take a sleeping pill tonight, or else I won't fall asleep. I will be thinking that the headache is the result of a burst blood vessel (which it really could be), and death is imminent. If I take the sleeping pill, I will therefore just sleep this life away, and the last record from me would be this blog entry.
I'm not being dramatic. This is really how I think. I know, I probably shouldn't think that way, but you just never know, do you. I was telling a colleague that I was thinking about taking a taxi to the hospital at about 2am. He said only a CAT scan could confirm the aneurysm, and that you couldn't get that at the hospital. Where could you get it? In Trinidad, or Barbados, he said. Yikes! It better be only a lack-of-sleep-and-after-effects-of-having-to-walk-up-Market-Hill-today kind of headache!
Galliwasp told me yesterday of the death of the mother of one of her classmates from our alma mater. The classmate is someone I know, although she was two years behind me at school.
Mrs M wasn't yet 60, but the Big C doesn't discriminate over age. My understanding is that the diagnosis was recent.
As I asked Galliwasp, I wonder how long she had it growing inside her? Surely it doesn't develop overnight. Call me a hypochondriac all you want, but that is the reason I go to the doctor once I feel different. I'm not saying that will catch the Big C early, but it just might.
I feel I am destined to get the Big C, since it is rampant in my grandmother's (maternal) side of the family. She had breast cancer, her brothers had various kinds of cancer including colon, her other sister had breast cancer, one had a brain tumour and died very early, my great grandmother had cancer as well.
So it is bound to happen. Hopefully, the meatless, poultryless diet can circumvent Mr C.
May Mrs M rest in peace and may her three daughters find the strength to hold each other up during this trying period.
Life......what's in store for each of us? Would you like to be able to see into your future?
I went to BNS Liguanea this morning. I had got up, washed up, barely did anything to my hair, threw on a washed out shirt and my jeans (which are slowly disintegrating!). So in short, I really did nothing to me. (As usual I hear you say....so true!)
I am at the teller (the line moved quickly today) and another guy who works over at Customer Service who is very friendly and who I say more than just the "can I have my balance please" to, was walking by the teller and stopped to say hello. So I said hello and he said "how are you?" and I said "fine" and he said "I can see that". But I didn't hear so I said "sorry?" And then in tandem, two of them repeated what the CS guy said.
Dem lie you see!
But you ever wonder what people see when they look at you? Do you see what I see? That would be fun....looking at oneself through the lens of another person. If only it was a matter of switching glasses...if you wear glasses. That would be kewl, init?
Went to the hospital to return an item I had borrowed from the goodly doc today. On the way downstairs, I saw a nursing student from Northern Caribbean University (the uni is based in central Jamaica). She came in the lift (that's elevator to the Americans) with me, so as I am known to do, I said hello and asked her why she chose nursing.
She said "it's the next best thing."
I said "you mean next best to being a doctor?".
She said yes, then she said "mediocrity".
I had by this began to ask her why she didn't go ahead and do medicine. So the "mediocrity" tag was referring to herself.
So I said "oh, you were mediocre. Why?"
She said "I don't know....I guess I'm just lazy sometimes." I said to her "I certainly can identify with that."
My undergraduate degree was just that. Mediocre. Still, I ended up with an Upper Second Class Honours which I don't think I deserved because I did diddly squat. Anyway, and older, wiser Yamfoot decided to aim for higher heights when she did the masters 12 years later. The aim was a distinction, and the aim was achieved. Did I mention that myself and Safari were two out of only 14 students out of about 150 who got distinctions?
If there is hope for me, then there is hope for this young nursing student. I just hope she turns out to be a super nurse, and is then motivated to go on to study medicine. But I just thought it was good that she was so honest with herself. You gotta own your problems, faults, etc.
You may have read that two priests who were not Jamaican, were shot dead in downtown Kingston, from one single bullet. The theory is that it was a stray bullet. These priests are part of a group called Missionaries of the Poor who do great work for poor Jamaicans as well as people with HIV/AIDS. So who would want to kill them, right?
Well the bullet went through the head of one, into the other. Father Richard HoLung, who, apart from being a priest is also a producer of a musical event called Father HoLung & Friends, has written an article in today's Gleaner talking about the killings and that they forgive the gunman/men.
I guess that's what it means to be a priest. Forgive them Lord, for they know not what they do. I wonder how the shooter feels when he hears all of the news surrounding the killing? Probably nothing. He is probably numb with anger, rage and fury, all directed at life and those who participate in it.
Claude from the Blogland went to visit the compound. Here is his story
Wow!
On the spur of the moment, I went to see this movie alone tonight. A friend of mine told me she had seen it this past week, and said she wouldn't tell me about the ending. Good thing she didn't. I had seen the trailer and it looked interesting. Man, was it ever!
I won't give it away, in case you haven't seen it. All I can say is never underestimate a mother's intuition.
Speaking of flight plan, I need one of my own.......
Ho Hum.
In the hairdressing salon today, a man came in selling June Plum (Pomme Cythere) and Sweet Sop (Sugar Apples). He punctuated most of his sentences with "to God be the glory".
I heard him say how life is good since he got saved recently. But the sad thing is that his baby mother says she is not sending the kids to look for him. He says when he talks to the kids they say they want to come and look for their daddy.
Why people stay so eeeh?
I wonder what he was like before he got saved.
Any of you had that "washed in the blood" experience of getting saved?
Weddings....they always do that to me.
I hardly cry at funerals, but at weddings, I am so emotional. This morning (9am service) as I read the programme even before anything started (9:30am) I had to wipe a tear from my eye.
I think it is a HUGE, BOLD step for two people to say Yes, I want to be with you for the rest of my natural life. In fact, the Catholic father (Micheal Lewis) said the same thing.
The St George's College massive would know both the priest and the groom - he of the 'full pot' variety. Quite coincidentally, the bride went to both of the schools I went to. (I had met her a couple years ago and made the high school connection but not the primary school connection until this summer).
Lovely, short, interactive church ceremony. The priest had the congregation in stitches. When we left Stella Marris en route for the Pegasus, we were all much the better off for having attended.
The reception was also enjoyable. Nice size, nice food (it was brunch - chicken, callaloo, ackee and saltfish, rice and peas, cheese cake) and I did not eat the chicken, dreary weather but then we were inside so that didn't matter. The bridal party got their pictures in before the heavens opened and showered the event with blessings.
The souvenirs were great, and the wedding cake even greater (I hijacked my niece's own).
After the event which saw me leaving the hotel at circa 2:40pm, I dashed home, changed into gym clothes like I was catching an English train, and drove slowly to the gym. Got into the class at 3:17pm (it started at 2:30) so I got 45 mins of class today which was great because it will be another 10 or so days before I have another one of those. The teacher said to me at the end 'do work Michelle, you know what to do'.
So I gotta do some exercises while I am away. The good thing about Pilates is that you don't wear shoes, so it's not like running or walking where I would need to carry my big buffuto sneakers (Me and my Yamfoots...what yuh 'hexpect'? Is size 11 I wear you know).
Of course I am going to do the exercises, because it's because of them why I was able to wear the size 16 suit today. Lawks mi feel proud. And the thing is that I always lose weight when I travel for cricket, so another 2 pounds guaranteed to be lost while I am away.
OK, I signing off now.
Not mine. I don't think I am ever going to walk down the aisle.
But Galliwasp is! And on my birthday too!
Sad thing is, if things go according to plans, I won't be in Jamaica and won't be able to afford to fly back.
They better video tape it.
I love weddings. I'll more easily cry at weddings than funerals. I think it is a HUGE step for two people to decide that them naw go get tyad fi see each other's faces forever and ever Amen.
Amen to that sister and brother.
You may have heard me use Belgian Chocolate to describe men and the weather. If not, read these...
I remember using it to describe particularly good weather days in England (those are rate), and a bus driver in Beeston Nottingham, who I really should have told what a fine specimen of a man he was. Tall, dark, slender but well built. Uhm uhm uhmmmmmmmmmmm
So as I ate the Belgian Chocolate in the sundae today, I thought "smooth as silk".
People, you've got to get yourself a Belgian Chocolate...something which symbolizes perfection.....almost.
I woke up at 6:30 this morning....by design because I have a seminar to attend. But even before the clock alarmed, I woke up at 6:12 because of the chirping birds.
Everything was so still and quiet, apart from the birds. Normally I get up at 8 o'clock (yes, we 'idle' folk are allowed), after going to bed at midnight. Last night I still went to bed pretty close to that time, so you can imagine how I feeling now!
You get a different perspective of a day when you get up at a time that's not normal for you. So those of you who do the 5:00am rise, try sleeping in or having a 'lie in' one day nuh?
Anyway, don't want to be late for 'coffee and networking'. Maybe I need the coffee to keep me awake suring Mr Gregory B Smith's session. Gosh I hope he's not boring!
You heard about the TT$700-800 million cocaine bust on Munos Island off the coast of Trinidad?
Well, the judge has denied bail for the eight men charged. It included some Venezuelans, an Antiguan and a Trinidadian.
Great job by the police, who must have either had them under surveillance, or got a tip off.
Well that's less drugs on the streets somewhere. Maybe it was going to the USA or Europe. Hopefully it won't go 'missing' in Trinidad!
I sat in the funeral today, not so much sad, but angry.
My anger was directed to those who were with him on the day he died. And maybe I am just assuming that his judgement was impaired by what it didn't have to be impaired by, because one does have a choice.
So assuming that his judgement was impaired, I wonder why didn't his friends caution him before he got to that stage?
If you see a friend doing something that is not in her/his best interest, would you stop him or her?
I posted about the death of a family friend in a boating accident a couple Sundays ago. The funeral is today at noon, so I went to bed last night with this 40 year old gone-too-soon guy on my mind.
Well, here is what I dreamt about him.
My family and I were in a couple hotels rooms in a hotel somewhere. Lo and behold, there comes the fella in my room today, the same day of the funeral. I kind of stutter, but didn't say to him "don't you know you are dead".
We chatted, about nothing significant. I was getting ready (to go to the funeral!) and he was lying on the bed. He got some calls on his cell phone while he was there.
Still in a stupour, I left my room and went down the hall to my parents' room and told them what was taking place. Daddy was quite nonchalant and said that that's how his kind of death is (he broke his neck).....it takes awhile to kick in. "And while he's there, ask him where is ______ (a place I can't remember the name of) because I have to mention that in the tribute".
I go back to the room and he is still there looking hale and hearty. So I ask him what he's doing later (ie around the time of the funeral) and he gives some answer that doesn't include "I'm going to be lying in a coffin at the church".
I keep saying to myself that 'God' must know what he's doing, so lemme not tell him that he's not alive and that he'll pop off soon. My sister comes in the room and chats with him and leaves. Then he gets a phone call that makes him have to go. We say bye, me with the knowing how I am going to see him in a couple hours.
He is gone and I look around and see his shades and his bunch of keys which include his truck keys (I don't know what he drove in real life) still on the side table.
I don't run after him, because I know he won't need them anymore.
You would have read a previous entry about Donnie McClurkin. (If not, go read it now).
Anyway, after yoga class today, I was passing the reception area and saw a feature on him on BET, so I sat for the next 40 minutes and watched. I was particularly interested because just two weeks ago, a friend had told me that McClurkin was sexually abused at 8 and at 13 by male relatives and lead a homosexual life before he says God saved him.
So I wanted to hear him talk about that. His uncle was the one who did it at 8, and then, check this....
His uncle's son raped him at 13. Now how horrible is that?????
So he mentioned it in the feature. He also said that when he came out and denounced homosexuality, the gay community was saying that he's a fraud because you can never be 'cured' of homosexuality.
Two weeks ago I went and googled Donnie and found some interesting articles on him and some were talking about the fact that it's not that he's 'cured' of homosexuality, it is that he has chosen not to follow that lifestyle.
Personally speaking, I like to believe in the gene theory. I am sure if they did research, they would find that heterosexuals have a gene that homosexuals do not. Well not all. Some get into that lifestyle by accident. Maybe they had anal sex and liked it, in which case would you consider them homosexuals or people who just like same sex relationships?
Anyway, Live in London is a great album. I was listening to it just now....then the computer shut off. (That's another story for another time)
My father brought this to my attention.
You've all heard of Nadine Willis right? Mad Bull has blogged about her, and so have I. She used to be an exotic dancer from lower class surroundings, not much education etc.
Then she was discovered by Kingsley Cooper who heads Pulse - the most notable modelling agency in Jamaica. Nadine set the world on fire with her exotic looks and her je ne sais quoi. She's one of, if not the hottest black model in the world today.
When she is in Kingston, she lives in a suite at the Jamaica Pegasus hotel. That's a big thing. I think they give her free room, but don't quote me on that.
The point of this story (bet y'all were thinking 'when is she going to come to the point') is that Nadine turned 25 a few weeks ago and the Pegasus had a party for her. A bashment you might call it. Invited guests included the Issa twins, Zein and Muna.
Their father, John, is Chairman of the Pegasus board and also owns Superclubs, a well known all inclusive chain of hotels in the Caribbean.
So my father sees a picture of the twins and Nadine cutting birthday cake, or maybe it was blowing out the candle. He says "you see how life funny? When this girl was living in the ghetto, you would never see people like the Issas associating with her, but now that she become famous, everybody flocking around her."
Very valid viewpoint.
I went to a focus group with some teenagers last week. They were asked if they each had a cell phone. Yes. According to them, it consumes 99.9% of their time.
When I thought about how different their lives are compared to mine when I was their age, I empathize with all parents who have to bring up kids in this era.
I say the cell phone is dangerous because text messaging can involve material that parents can't monitor.