Trini II

Duty calls me to my keyboard, and requires a report of my doings in the distant land of Trinidad & Tobago. Perhaps a note or too longer then my last, which primarily served to inform everyone I was alive and not vacationing.

It began as an early morning departure, and lengthy plane trip to the ‘C’ shaped island at the end of Caribbean. In fact the island lays a stone’s throw from Venezuela, so I consider myself at least familiar with its climate, albeit the translated English version.

My misfortune forced travel to the tropics in both the summer and the rainy season, which was easily identifiable from the 90+ degree days, matching humidity and deluges of rain. And I mean deluges (yes, potops). I would become drenched just sprinting from the car to the office (of leaving the left front seat). During dry periods, when the sun would trickle through the canyons of clouds, the heat would rise with the steam and cook me in my NOMEX suit. And standing next to a hot process boiler doesn’t help – you might as well be in the pouring rain.

So I went about my business in the day, traveling between chemical plants, the company office and the hotel. Days punctuated with plant tours, yawn-inducing safety trainings, nervous presentations and straining to follow the heavy Trini-accent and idioms…(including the phrase ‘on like boil corn’ – a reference to a woman’s figure). Initially the nights were relatively low key, dinners at the hotel’s Treehouse restaurant, perched above the city of San Fernando.

But as the week wore on, my adventures into cuisine and the Trinidad night life deepened. There was rotti the Indian-derived dahl bread wraps stuffed with curried meats and potatoes. Or the ‘dirty’ rice dishes with chicken. The last two nights we ate in a larger group of employees and clients, first at the European/Caribbean fusion Solimars and next at Apsara, with a traditional Indian menu. Oh my, quite a gastronomic feast – and yes I love the haughty airs in that phrase.

And between the two I tasted my way through the mixing pot of Caribbean flair, and what is oddly unique to Trinidad – despite the quilted patchwork of cultures.

And I’m back home, to return to my lovely family and less then desirable work. And somehow my anxiousness to be back with my family I so missed, didn’t smother the chance to experience a new corner of the world.

HRP