calm confusion

I dreaded it more than anything else. The drive over was always filled with silent tears and rages that left both my mom and I exhausted. I never understood why I had to go there and I am sure neither did Mimi. Yet every year for a month, we would be packed up and sipped off to Penal to stay with one of my mom’s aunt. If there ever was a woman we feared, it was her. Her eyes were deep black and soulless, her hands rough from scrubbing the bathroom tiles until their screamed for mercy, her hair wound so tightly you could see the veins trying to bust through her temples and smack you in the face. To us this month was always one of punishment and we prayed for it to come to a swift end. The only upside was the time we spent with her daughter. We would get to dress up in red fish net stocking and sing Madonna songs loudly. Then each afternoon she would take us walking along the main road to a tiny bakery to buy sweet buns. But that was the end of the fun. Our days started ...

I could never describe the feeling of being there, even to myself. I can close my eyes and see everything in the most vivid of colours, hear the sounds of the sea, smell the fresh fish and wet sand, maybe even reach out and touch the trunk of a coconut tree as if it were right next to me. But then I open my eyes and it all goes away. I must have said it a million times I know, but whenever I think of home I think of Speyside . Whenever I get that horrible sinking feeling like I am choking, it always goes away when I imagine myself standing on the spot where the road meets the beach, staring out over the lazily crashing waves onto Little Tobago. The happiest of times, the calmest of times, the time when everything finally made sense to me, was in that single moment. I can crawl deep into the spaces of my memory and drag out scenes from my childhood, when we would take family vacations and my sister and I would kick and scream every time my dad said we had to leave the pool and join th...

Even at 7 am, the streets were filled with music. It was like everyone around wanted to shout in some way that the year was almost over, soon it would be time to dust off the Christmas tree and swap the normal curtains for the special Christmas ones. The Corner of Frederick and Park had a special feeling surrounding it. Inside Excellent Plaza, you could see the decorations being hung at Emdad's , ready for the next wave of Christmas enthusiasts to come in and grapple over the price for a few glass angels and furry lint covered santas . I love the smell that some from Charlotte Street during December. A smooth, fresh mix of rum, cigarette smoke, roast pork, pastelles and puncha creme wafts through the air and around the corners of each street it intertwines with, making shoppers dizzy and slightly crazy. I remember times I would walk along Brian Lara Promenade, from Royal Bank to Roytec , the sound of parang coming from Excellent City Centre ( de bigger one before it burnt d...

It wasn't that I didn't want to go home with Frankie. In fact I loved the race to get the back seat, hang my head out the window and wave to other school children as they rushed down High Street Sparia to get a taxi. It was that some days I just wanted to explore the unknown. I waited until I was in Form 5 and I could get away with an excuse to stay in school late, and I would by pass Frankie, casting side glances at him in case he saw me hiding behind the trees, and make my way down to Siparia . When I was sure he was gone, I would relax and stroll along with Sharlene, pass the court house, the police station, the library and head towards High Street. When we got to the little Savannah , I would stop to reminisce about the school boy who made a hole in a paw paw tree and tried to have sex with it. I never remember if that was where he did it, but somehow it always brought the memory back. I wasn't even sure if I knew him personally, but I definitely told the story like ...

I always packed my best clothes. They consisted of a pair of orange shorts, a black t shirt and a pair of tan coloured leather flats. Everything else paled in comparison to this outfit. And whenever we were heading out the house, this is what I would where for the excursion. We would get up at 7 am every morning and after a breakfast of lukewarm milky tea and roti and butter, we would begin cleaning the house while my aunt went downstairs to see about the chickens. It was warm outside, with a light breeze whistling through the tamarind tree on the corner. I could here my cousin downstairs singing old indian songs while he washed the maxi taxi, preparing for another long day working the roads from Couva to Port of Spain. Upstairs, Wendy and I were pretending to sweep the gallery while staring across at the boys liming under the tamarind tree. Her rusty curls fell lazily all over her face, causing her to constantly shake her head in a circular motion that was quite distracting. "yu...