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.
"yuh cud see him?"
" no i only seeing ah set ah leaf. stueps."
"wuh he wearing? i see him leaving de house with ah red t shirt on."
" ah seeing some red. he sitting next to errol."
"oh god errol.. errol so cute!"
"cute! yea boy!"
" later leh we bade and take ah walk"
....
"Wendy! Kerrie! i better be able to lick dat gallery when i come up stairs eh!"
" yes ma!"
"yes aunty!"
Hurriedly, we swished the brooms across the tiles and rushed inside to start on the bathroom. We could hear Andy driving away in the Maxi and knew we wouldn't see him until around 9pm that night.
My dad's oldest sister lived in a huge old house in Presal, a small village of Couva in Central Trinidad. Every year I would get to spend two weeks with them and I would wait patiently for them to come. She had my grandmother's eyes and my dad's personality. My cousin Wendy became my closest companion for those two weeks and for a while we were sisters in crime. Our days were filled with running after the farm animals, playing cricket on the road, visiting the neighbours kids and playing pessay, going to the movies in Couva and taking long walks around the area.
To me these two weeks were worth more than flying first class to Paris and sipping wine. It was all encompassing and packed full of all the love I ever needed.
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.
"yuh cud see him?"
" no i only seeing ah set ah leaf. stueps."
"wuh he wearing? i see him leaving de house with ah red t shirt on."
" ah seeing some red. he sitting next to errol."
"oh god errol.. errol so cute!"
"cute! yea boy!"
" later leh we bade and take ah walk"
....
"Wendy! Kerrie! i better be able to lick dat gallery when i come up stairs eh!"
" yes ma!"
"yes aunty!"
Hurriedly, we swished the brooms across the tiles and rushed inside to start on the bathroom. We could hear Andy driving away in the Maxi and knew we wouldn't see him until around 9pm that night.
My dad's oldest sister lived in a huge old house in Presal, a small village of Couva in Central Trinidad. Every year I would get to spend two weeks with them and I would wait patiently for them to come. She had my grandmother's eyes and my dad's personality. My cousin Wendy became my closest companion for those two weeks and for a while we were sisters in crime. Our days were filled with running after the farm animals, playing cricket on the road, visiting the neighbours kids and playing pessay, going to the movies in Couva and taking long walks around the area.
To me these two weeks were worth more than flying first class to Paris and sipping wine. It was all encompassing and packed full of all the love I ever needed.
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