"Exodus... movement of jah people..."
As the music filled my eardrums at a rate of 2000 decibels and sing softly to myself, swaying my head every so slightly, ensuring I don't suddenly head butt the fat pasty white man sitting next to me sweating in his suit and scarf.
My mornings have changed so much. From getting up at 4 30 am and rushing out the house to beat the traffic heading in to Port of Spain, wondering if I would catch a glimpse of the stray horse galloping along the roadside at Caroni fly over...to rolling out of bed at 5 30 am and moseying along to my bus stop for 7. With my ipod plugged in and take a seat at the back of the bus, after weeks of mishaps at the front, and settle in for an hour long ride to work. The music sets my mood and my daydreams. Soca when I am missing home, Rock when I have a hard day ahead, Rosemary Clooney when I want to drift off into la la land.
Sometimes I feel like I am living someone else's life. I hold on tightly to bits of me that try desperately to escape the every day scenes that play out around me. Every time I say my name, I mentally cringe and the prospect of not being understood.
"NAAAYY DEEENN!"
"Ayleen?"
"yea, that's it."
I walk around with the feeling of total invisibility. I can wear red and yellow shoes with pink pom pom socks and no one would point and laugh. It's disgusting. I miss the sudden spurts and snorts you hear walking around Port of Spain, as people don't even attempt to hide their laughter about de man dressed in his mother half ah slip. I miss the comfort of trini shamelessness.
"Excuse me, can I have some pepper with my chips?"
"Excuse me"?
"pepper"
"?"
"Chillliii sauce!"
"Oh! sorry, we don't have any." followed by a half assed attempt at a polite grin.
"Well kiss my mudda ass den."
"I'm sorry?"
"yuh mudda ded dred."
"Are you speaking english?"
"No is blasted russain yuh cyank!."
"I have to go. Have a lovellllly dayy."
"bum bum splat."
These people... so cooool I tell you!
Crick Crack yes, ah wish ah had some pomerac.
As the music filled my eardrums at a rate of 2000 decibels and sing softly to myself, swaying my head every so slightly, ensuring I don't suddenly head butt the fat pasty white man sitting next to me sweating in his suit and scarf.
My mornings have changed so much. From getting up at 4 30 am and rushing out the house to beat the traffic heading in to Port of Spain, wondering if I would catch a glimpse of the stray horse galloping along the roadside at Caroni fly over...to rolling out of bed at 5 30 am and moseying along to my bus stop for 7. With my ipod plugged in and take a seat at the back of the bus, after weeks of mishaps at the front, and settle in for an hour long ride to work. The music sets my mood and my daydreams. Soca when I am missing home, Rock when I have a hard day ahead, Rosemary Clooney when I want to drift off into la la land.
Sometimes I feel like I am living someone else's life. I hold on tightly to bits of me that try desperately to escape the every day scenes that play out around me. Every time I say my name, I mentally cringe and the prospect of not being understood.
"NAAAYY DEEENN!"
"Ayleen?"
"yea, that's it."
I walk around with the feeling of total invisibility. I can wear red and yellow shoes with pink pom pom socks and no one would point and laugh. It's disgusting. I miss the sudden spurts and snorts you hear walking around Port of Spain, as people don't even attempt to hide their laughter about de man dressed in his mother half ah slip. I miss the comfort of trini shamelessness.
"Excuse me, can I have some pepper with my chips?"
"Excuse me"?
"pepper"
"?"
"Chillliii sauce!"
"Oh! sorry, we don't have any." followed by a half assed attempt at a polite grin.
"Well kiss my mudda ass den."
"I'm sorry?"
"yuh mudda ded dred."
"Are you speaking english?"
"No is blasted russain yuh cyank!."
"I have to go. Have a lovellllly dayy."
"bum bum splat."
These people... so cooool I tell you!
Crick Crack yes, ah wish ah had some pomerac.
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