A growing island

Apparently the phenomenon off Radix point is not a mud volcano, but a growing island which has almost trebled in size over the past few days. According to the report in the Express newpapers today entitled "SCARY SEA":

A growing island beneath the muddy, churning waters off Point Radix in Mayaro is a cause for concern for oil companies operating in the area.

The companies operating in the area are Petrotrin and Canadian Superior.

Officials from State-owned Petrotrin flew by helicopter at the weekend to the area of turbulence to get a first hand look at what is happening. Earlier, the Seismic Research Unit of the University of the West Indies (UWI) warned in a report that the island, which it described as "the construction of an undersea mound", had resulted "in a significant reduction in the depth to off-shore platforms in the area."

The island has more than trebled in its size in the past few days. "One week ago the water in that area was approximately 50 feet deep, now it is between six to ten feet deep," Rod Stewart , a Volcanic Seismologist attached to the University of the West Indies (UWI), said yesterday.

He said the island was now 40 feet high and it covered an area of some 500 feet in diameter. Stewart said the waves in the area at the time of the visit were "about six feet high."

He and officials of the Office of Disaster Preparedness and Management (ODPM), UWI and the Institute of Marine Affairs (IMA), visited the area last weekend to make a further assessment of what was happening.

They travelled by boat and remained about 100 feet from the turbulence due to the formation of the island. The team collected samples of water with fine mud for analysis. The IMA was also making arrangements to bring in a consultant to help in the investigation, it was learned.

A team consisting of representatives of the IMA, ODPM and Geological Society of Trinidad and Tobago as well as members of the Seismic Research Unit will continue their study of the area today.

A Petrotrin official said "we will be guided by the findings of the team". He said that in the meantime the company will be taking all the necessary instructions given by the ODPM.

The ODPM has advised owners of small craft to stay away from the area until a final determination is made concerning the turbulence in the area.

When the sea first started to churn last week experts had said that it might have been a mud volcano.

The Perfect Mate

(Letter sent to the three dailies this morning)

The Editor:

The Perfect Mate?

A new ad for the Subaru Legacy carries the headline: "Sexy, Smart and Completely under your control". The subhead goes on to say: "And you thought the perfect mate didn't exist."

A large image of an attractive Indian woman fills much of the page. In the lower right corner is a small, dark, hazy image of the car being advertised. Clearly this ad is targeting men and the creators of the ad probably thought they were being clever with their concept and wording. Regardless of this, what kind of message is being projected when it comes to the image of the woman as a 'perfect mate'? There is nothing wrong with being sexy and smart, but who wants to be under any other human being's control?

The perpetuated myth that women must be 'completely under the control' of men is partly responsible for many of the problems we see in our society today. I don't need to list these problems. Just read the papers, look at or listen to the news, look at popular music videos and walk down the street.

Elspeth Duncan,
St. Augustine

'Random sucking sounds' and corny comments

I had a good chuckle this morning reading Shivonne DuBarry's Sunday Newsday article "On Being a Woman". The line that really made me laugh was: "I can’t begin to imagine what would motivate a person to look at a woman he doesn’t know and make random sucking sounds ..."

Just the other day in conversation with a friend, we were wondering how to actually spell the noise that Trini men make when calling out to women in public. Those 'random sucking sounds' are not always as easily spellable as 'Pssst'.

Late last week I was driving by Morvant junction and stopped at a traffic light. A woman was approaching on the sidewalk, wearing khaki shorts. They were tight enough to imprint the details of the pubic area beneath. My eyes instinctively fell on the men in the car a little ahead of me, to my right. They stared at her, mouths literally open, as she approached. Their minds did not have to be televisions for me to see what images were playing. When she was directly next to us, the one in the passenger seat released his loud 'random sucking noise' (the wet, unspellable kind). The woman looked at him, blushed, smiled slightly and kept walking. Was she flattered or simply smiling off her embarassment? I don't know.

I tend to drive most places, so 'psssst' is normally directed at me when I'm in motion and can't stop. But I am often tempted to speak to the men who do it and ask them what it means to them. At what age did they start doing it? Who inspired them? What do they think it really achieves? Hmmm ... worth investigating.

In addition to the 'psssssts' there are the comments. They range from disgusting (Ah want ta #$% @ yuh #$^@) to classic ("Dahlin, ah like yuh mammaries") to corny ...

The other day, after birdwatching, Nic and I stopped off at a small roadside snackette to buy water and munchies. I asked the shopkeeper where his bin was and he directed me to a bucket just outside the door.

"Ah hope is not a bomb yuh trowin in meh bin!" he jokingly called out to me as I tossed the wrapper from my strawer.

I called back: "Only a love bomb."

An Indian man with a beer in his hand started softly chanting: "Love ... love ... love!" He then approached as we got into the car and said quite inently: "So tell me ... how does it feel to be so gorgeous?"

"It feels great," I said pleasantly.

Probably surprised that I had answered him, he went silent for a while, then said: "So ... so if you ever get a flat tyre I could be your spare?"

Here we made our exit before he gave us another line from his book of The Trini Man's Guide to Corny Pick Up Lines.

Today it is hapening

Today is the Big Red Day
when something important happens
whether I see it or not
feel it or not
hear it or not
know it or not.

It is happening.

Rapunzel, Rapunzel

One of those idle moments.

Try and guess what the sound in the soundtrack is. I'll put the answer in the Comments section and you can look after you have guessed.

My Creature, Mr. J

Jasper wasn't too happy earlier today when Crystal (the vet) paid him a home visit.
(These photos were taken long after Crystal had gone and it was safe to come back out).

As soon as he sees Crystal he gets ready to flee.
I endured some scratches in the effort to hold him still while she checked his right hind leg.

He has been limping for a while now.

After poking, prodding and pulling, Crystal couldn't find anything visibly wrong with his leg. I wrapped him in a towel while she successfully gave him an anti-inflammatory injection. She prescribed a tablet. "Break it into quarters and give him over the next 4 days. If he is still limping by Tuesday, he'll have to have x-rays done."

"Keep him confined over the weekend," Crystal advised.
(Clearly she doesn't know Mr. J ...)

A multi-layered night

Last night I dreamt I went to the home of a friend whose mother died recently. We were standing on a kind of dirt track outside his house and he had a strange little blue three-stringed instrument which he had made. What he was playing for me sounded phenomenal, actually. It was deep, full and resonant. I had never heard anything like it before. After playing it, he gave me the strange instrument and said it was mine.

We were then under an old time house which stood on stilts. There were the usual things that are under such houses: hammock, clothesline, chairs, etc. I was sitting on a chair and a quaint animal appeared. I have never seen anything like it before. It had long flowing white hair with some black - and very piercing but gentle black beady eyes. It's head was small in comparison to the size of its body. It was very drawn to me and seemed to have manifested specifically for me. Everything else seemed to disappear and my eyes remained focused on the animal. Moving in a strange manner, it kept approaching then retreating, eventually reaching to my side. It was wild, but extremely gentle and it trusted me. Even though it was an animal, its shape reminded me of someone I know. It's like the animal guise was merely a costume.

Then suddenly I was in the house of a girl who was an artist from some other country. She was visiting Trinidad, yet somehow the dream was not taking place here. She was staying in a simple house with large, open windows and doors. There was nothing to cover any of these openings. She had many large paintings all around her, leaning up against all of the walls - and she was working on one when I arrived. I went around looking through all of the doors and windows and I said to her "Do you realise that wherever you look there is an amazing view?" She said yes - it's why she lives there.

In particular, leaning through one of the doors, I saw a lovely old stone and wood house on a lush hill, not too far from where she lived. I was drawn to it and felt that I would be living there. It was one of those locations that I've dreamt before and which I know only in dreams.

Now that I'm writing this, I'm remembering that so many other levels of dreams took place last night. That's only the surface.

Phenomenon

This week's Sunday Scribblings prompt is PHENOMENON.

I don't think I've ever used the word 'phenomenon' in regular conversation (E.g. "Wow, what a phenomenal day!") and I rarely, if ever, hear other people use it in everyday speak. But recently someone used it with me and it stood out in my memory because of the fact that it is such an unused word. It was a friend of mine who was here from Toronto working on a documentary and she asked to buy some raw footage I had shot because it was "phenomenal, girl!"

It's such a big word.

I would use it for something that is so amazing it could never happen again.

I would use it for something breathtaking that is of nature.

Actually, the only time I can remember myself having used the word 'phenomenon' is the times I've said: "Rainbows and shooting stars are my favourite natural phenomena".

I'm going to keep my eyes open for phenomenal things today ... natural or otherwise. I'll start by looking in the mirror. (PhenoMEnon)
****
P.S. (6:50 a.m.) Minutes after writing that I will look for phenomenal things today, I went to buy papers and found a 'phenomenon' (literally). On pg 4 (Express) there is a short article about a mud volcano growing 5 miles off Radix Point in Mayaro. One paragraph says: "At the centre, waves are foaming and the water appears to be bulging, creating ripples around the phenomenon."

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Rainbows galore

Some nights ago I had a very clear dream in which a friend and I exchanged gifts. In it, I gave her a crystal like the one in the above image. The next day I went to the small flower shop of a friend's sister, knowing that she sells crystals like the one in the dream, from India. She had one more left, exactly like the one I had seen in the dream. I bought it and sent it to my friend. There was a bigger one (above photo) which I bought for myself and hung in my bedroom window.

(On the bed. They look like guppies)

At a certain time in the morning when the sun angles in through the window, bright rainbows dance everywhere - on my bed, on the floor, the walls, the laptop. Sometimes I enter the room to find Jasper sleeping in rainbows or lying on the bed watching them dart around him ... every now and then his paw rapidly reaching out to try and catch them.

(On the floor)

I wonder what Rainbow the pigeon would have had to say about this.

Where are my senses?

I don't know.

Birdwatching

In one of our efforts to find something to do, my friend Nic and I got up early this morning and went to meet some people from the FCN. They were going birding and we thought it would be something new for us to try.

We met two of the members at 6:30 a.m. at the back of UWI. The plan was to go to Arena Forest. However, apart from us, no-one else turned up, so the two birders said it wasn't a good idea to go with such a small group into the remote forest. Instead, we went to look at shorebirds near the Caroni Swamp. The SWARMS of mosquitoes that met us there were about as large as the birds ... and they were relentless. Insect repellent did not phase them. Even when we drove down the dirt track with the car windows rolled up, the monster mosquitoes were banging against the glass trying to get in, quite like something from a horror movie. To make matters worse, they were aedes aegypti, the kind with the striped legs that spread yellow fever and dengue. They were biting us, swarming against our pants and mating in mid-air.

In between slapping mosquitoes, we saw lots of scarlet ibis (the national bird) and other birds (can't recall the names). The birders had binoculars and a small telescopic instrument on a tripod which enabled us to get close up views.

Finally deciding to escape from the mosquitoes, we then went to a fishing depot at Carlsen Field where we saw more shore birds: scarlet ibis, pelicans, laughing gulls and a host of other birds whose names I can't recall. They were all mingling and feeding on the mud flats. An interesting sight.

Birding is definitely a passion for some people, but for us it was simply a pleasant excursion ... something different to do on a Sunday morning.

That dream plan again

Hmmm. A recurring message and/or desire. Last night's dream was clearly a continuation of yesterday's. For most of the dream I was in London, only it was Toronto, because my cousins and other people from Toronto were in the dream with me, living there. It was like having Toronto people in a London landscape.

When I was leaving Toronto/London, I went to the ticketing booth (check out) at the airport. The airport was one of those places that exists only in dreams and is familiar as a result of having been there a few times before. It has many levels and a lot of glass. I went up some levels and found the Asian girl who would be dealing with my tickets. She looked at my date of departure and said "You are not supposed to be leaving today. You have more time here."

But because the date that was on the ticket was in big red figures and was standing out, I had thought that it was my date of departure. I did not see the fine print. Nevertheless, I told her I would still leave on this plane. Someone (in real life) had been saying yesterday that 'everything happens for a reason' and that phrase came back to me in the dream as I stood in the dream airport. There happened to be a seat for me on that flight, so I left on the big red date, knowing that I had seen it that way for a valid reason.

I don't know why I keep dreaming London and Toronto together, but definitely things are happening on that (dream) plane. Maybe there's also something to do with London, ONtario?

Could also be because I have not yet put away my suitcase since returning from Toronto. It was against the wall in my room, then I had moved it to another spot and just a day or two ago I moved it to the centre of the room where it is sitting with a scarf and sweater on it, really just procrastinating about putting it on top of the upstairs cupboard where suitcases are. It looks like I am about to go again.

(Just realised the headline of this post is supposed to say: "That dream plane again", but I will leave the typo).

Traveling on the dream plane

This morning just before I woke up, I dreamt I was returning to Toronto. It was a very involved dream in which the people I dealt with were busy making the way easy for me. The people at the airline office were giving a range of prices for tickets. I was amazed at the cheap fare that was available - a special fixed rate of $200-something US (maybe it was one way?) which was hidden, but for some reason they had found it for me. Then there was a rate of $30,000 TT to go to either TO or London for a year. Of course I chose Toronto and they gave me the fixed rate of $200-something US for the year instead of the $30,000. It was a fortunate dream in which I spent a lot of time at the bank as well, preparing to depart. The woman in the bank was working with lots of data and transferring funds (I had a lot of money in the dream).

In the dream I felt purposeful and excited, eager to leave ... even though I didn't have anything 'fixed' to go to. This reminds me of the day I left my job in advertising 1999. I had 'nothing to go to' and I had not told anyone I was resigning (in case they had tried to dissuade me and put doubts in my mind). I wrote my resignation letter on the 7th of September so that my departure day (one month later) would be my birthday (7th October). I will always remember it as the best birthday gift I ever gave myself ... and one of the best decisions I ever made.

After leaving the bank in the dream, I woke up. My foot slid across the bed and bumped against something furry (Jasper, not a rat). I lay there for a while preparing to get out of bed and go through the motions of another day.

Yesterday's highlight

City Gate, Port-of-Spain
*

Yesterday was not a great day, but Dandelion as usual lifted my spirits. In the evening I had my last class in the first phase of drumming. Rather than learn specific beats, I was shown techniques, as well as how to create moods and add textures, colours, tones and spaces. Even though drumming is an aural thing, I experienced the sessions visually. It's easier for me to understand things through images than through words (spoken or written).

E.g. there is a particular slap which I was not getting on the drum. Peter explained it to me as a whip-like motion of the hand on the skin, but also told me to envision this: "Imagine you are slapping your hand to catch a fly on the drum skin". That enabled me to get the slap and, with practice, I will really get it.

Yesterday he also made me close my eyes and every time he clapped his hand, I had to open them and there would be a new image before me. These images depicted either different moods or things. I had to spontaneously play what I was seeing before me. This was and interesting process. No time to think, just feel and respond.

Drumming really is like life. There are things I was learning in the class that I easily related back to life itself. Things like strength, purpose, follow-through, etc.

Basically, what I appreciated about this experience was not only its visual and creative approach, but the fact that it was not a matter of "This is how it is done, so do it this way." There was no formality and rigidity. I was given a structure and allowed to play and self-express within that structure. Once you know the proper techniques, the rest is up to you, the individual ... to just be you and express through the drum in whatever way you feel moved to. I now really understand how a drum can talk. It will take deep connection and practice.

Peter also told me that for all his years of drumming and instruction, I am by far the best learner he has ever come across and that I must keep at it. :)

Next week there'll be one more class where he'll teach me some traditional rhythms like Bele, stickfighting, Orisha, etc. After that I will seek other drummers and jam with them. Everyone will have their own way and their own 'tricks of the trade' to pass on.

I SPY with my little eye ...

Helping out Jahdiel with the little camera he and his siblings used to film I SPY Things in My Garden. This was late last year - hence the shorter hair.
(Photo by Rosanna Farmer)
*

The (Happy Hippy Productions) I SPY series is finished. I didn't talk much about the process on the blog, but I did mention it from time to time. I sourced four groups of children (age 7 - 10) to create environmental documentaries: I SPY Wildlife, I SPY Recycling, I SPY Things in My Garden, I SPY Trees. The children shot the docs themselves, under guidance from me. Each doc is approximately 12 minutes long.

The project was made possible by some funding from the Trinidad and Tobago Film Company (I was one of the recipients of TTFC's 2006 grant), British Gas and NIHERST. The latter funded an entire episode. It is great getting funding for projects, even when (as I've said before), it is a matter of spreading the butter (funds) for one or two slices over the entire loaf.

I'm happy with what the children did and how it turned out. Now that the creative part is over ... here comes the part I don't consider myself to be very good at and wish I had someone to do it for me. Aaargh. The part that has to deal with getting sponsorship for duplication of the DVD containing all four episodes, effectively marketing the product, etc. and basically seeking the best avenues for it so that it doesn't just sit on a shelf gathering cobweb.

Treasure

I am ready for the first clue. What is it?

Just realised ...

I've been so absorbed that I've forgotten about the blog.

Drumming up fun

My drum teacher Peter invited me to a session last night which he called "Drumversations" (conversations with drums). There were to be different kinds of drummers (tassa, djembe, bass, etc.) and we would all contribute our rhythms to the conversation. The tassa drummers never turned up, but when I arrived with Dandelion, there were five men from a drumming group who drum for stick fighting and play traditional folk rhythms. They were surprised when I walked in, partly because (as one told me after) 'girls here don't really play drums' unless they grew up in a family where the parents do folk dancing or drumming.

These stick-fighters have some great rhythms, they are very impressive and were very attentive - giving me tips and pointers. I can't wait until I can 'cut' (rhythms) like they do.

Even though I was tired after a day at the beach, I found the energy to drum with them for two hours. Time well spent.

Oh My Soul

Oh my Soul, you come and you go

Through the paths of time and space.

In useless play you’ll not find the way

So set your goals and go.

Sing such a song with all your life

You will never have to sing again.

Love such a one with all your heart

You will never need to love again.

Oh my Soul you come and you go (etc) ...

Walk such a path with all your faith

You will never have to wander again.

Give yourself to such a Guru

You will never have to seek again.

Oh my Soul ... (etc)

Pray such a prayer with all your soul

You will never have to pray again.

Die such a death at the feet of God

You will never have to die again.

Oh my Soul ... (etc)

Breathe my Love

Breathe my Love

Breathe in the quiet centre.

(Sung by Snatam Kaur)

Who I slept with last night

This morning when I woke up it was pitch black but the birds were already singing. I got out of bed to do some light meditation. First, I decided to put on clothes to go walking straight after. In the dark I found t-shirt, bra, etc. and tossed them on the bed. Still in the dark (not yet feeling for bright light), I got my yoga mat and spread it on the ground. I then reached for the bra - identifiable as the long, dark shadow cast upon my sheet. As I gripped it, something felt amiss. Why did it feel cold, clammy, cylindrical and rubbery?

I turned on the light to see a medium-sized grey rat (dead) lying where my left leg would have been, which would have been covered by my blanket all night! How long the rodent was there is anyone's guess. I must have been in a deep sleep, because normally I can feel when Jasper jumps on the bed with something. At least there was no blood.

Thanks, Jasper ... As usual, perhaps there's a message in this.

Bird

Early this morning I was walking down the road to get papers. On the way I came upon the religious woman who normally stands in a particular spot with her Bible and crucifix, waiting for a private taxi to take her to the church at the Mount.

As I approached her and said "Good morning", my eye fell on a little bird in the drain before her. I bent down and looked at it to assess potential injuries before picking it up. I couldn't see anything amiss. Maybe its legs were damaged.

The religious woman (R.W.) said: "Oh gosh, you know I standing here so long and I ent even see dat bird dere?"

I moved my hand slowly toward the bird, asking it if it was okay. It was a small 'Big Eye Grief' and it was not moving. In fact it was frozen, its eyes wide, mouth slightly open, little body breathing heavily.

R.W.: Someting wrong.

Waiting until some cars had passed (in case the bird tried to scramble away from me and ended up under a tyre), I enclosed it in my hand, picked it up and asked it if it was hurt.

R.W.: Someting definitely wrong. A bird just doh let you pick it up so!

I agreed. The bird struggled a bit and then, to our amazement, flew out of my hands and onto the gate, where it perched.

R.W.: See if someting wrong with de right leg.

I moved closer to see. It looked normal. Nothing appeared to be physically wrong, yet the bird sat there, motionless, breathing hard. Maybe it was in shock. I approached it and touched it gently. It allowed me to. I wanted to at least move it to a place where it was further away from the road, so I lightly enclosed my hand around it and kept it there for a while. The bird also allowed me to do this, all the while looking at me from the side of its eye.

R.W.: But what is dis?! Nutting wrong wit dat bird! How it letting you hold it so?!

I then said to the bird: "Don't be afraid" and removed my hand.

It suddenly lifted its wings and strongly flew, disappearing into a tree some distance away.

R.W.: Buh eh-eh!

Brief Hiatus

Back on Monday.

Enjoy your weekend, everyone.

Elspeth

My Drum Spirits Prayer

Sacred Heart, where the drum class I'm going to is held.
I'm the only person in the class.

*
Spirit of Animal
Spirit of Tree
Spirit of Maker
Spirit of Me
*

Just now as I pulled out Dandelion to practise, I felt the need to connect in a special way and settle myself, as I was feeling scattered. Immediately the little prayer (written above) entered my head. Maybe more will come of it, but for now that's all. It is in honour of the Spirits that come together to tune me into myself so that I can connect with Dandelion and vice versa.

Spirit of Animal - whose skin is the drum skin
Spirit of Tree - whose wood is the body of the drum
Spirit of Maker - the maker who made the drum and also the Supreme Maker
Spirit of Me - Elspeth

I guess everyone has a different way of doing this. Muhtadi did a long drum roll to become centred. The teacher I have now (Peter) puts his hand on his drum and one on his heart and says something ... and he also puts a hand on my drum and says something. Other drummers must have other ways ... and maybe as time goes on these methods evolve until they settle as one thing to that one person. I don't know, I'm new.

For now ... from now on I'll say my 'Drum Spirits' prayer and envision the circular flow I usually see before starting.

Quiet

... and busy.

Catching (or ketching) a vapse

Kiki the Hobo left a comment saying she had looked up the word 'vapse' and still did not understand it.

A brief explanation can be found under V here. Kiki, for homework you can write a sentence or two in Trini slang.

It's natural to catch vapses. I woke up this morning, caught a vapse and started throwing away things and ripping up old papers (one of those 'moods'). Sometimes I catch a vapse and jump in the car and just drive to Manzanilla or Toco or somewhere far. Or I'll catch a vapse and drop what I'm doing and go to the grocery to buy a particular snack. Or catch a vapse and call someone who, when they answer, will most likely say: "Oh, you know I was just thinking about you?"

To catch something indicates to me that it's flying. You catch a cold because of the virus (particles 'flying' in the air when someone sneezes, coughs, etc). You catch a ball. You catch a bird. You catch a plane. You catch a taxi (... we all know those are flying too these days). So is a vapse something that flies? Some kind of spirit? A wind?

Does anyone know where the word 'vapse' comes from? Maybe it's one of those words bastardized from the French. But French for what?

The only thing I can come up with (going back to the theory of it being something in the air or something spirit-like) ... maybe it's reference to a vapour. I just looked up the word for 'vapour' en Francais and got 'vapeur'. Is that where it came from?

vapeur
vapeurs
vapse

Timing is Everything

At last,
inexplicably,
Life is falling into place.

Or maybe I am.

P is for Police

Remembering this, I laughed when I came across an article in this morning's papers ... about a taxi driver who had 'stopped to urinate on a tree next to a police station', leaving his three male passengers in the car. Little did he know, the three men he had picked up were thieves. I guess they noted that his urinating position was a vulnerable one, since (according to the article), they tried to get his keys and, when he ran, chased him down, took the keys and drove off in the car. So much for urinating on a tree right next to a police station.

The other P is for Police story in the papers this morning was not funny, although the policemen involved clearly thought it was. Is this what they consider to be 'protecting and serving'?

*

Gay man taunted by cops gets $28,400 Keino Swamber South Bureau Wednesday, July 4th 2007

A 29-year-old self-confessed homosexual has been awarded $28,400 as compensation for being kept naked at a police station for over three hours while police officers ridiculed him about the size of his penis. Judgment on behalf of the Ste Madeleine man was delivered in the San Fernando High Court yesterday by Justice Shafeyei Shah who ruled that the man's arrest on July 24, 2000 was unlawful. The man said he and his "partner" were walking past the Princes Town Police Station around 4.30 p.m. on July 24, 2000, when two men, who later identified themselves as CID police officers, called out to him and told him to come. "They did not give their names. Upon reaching the station's door, I was told by one of the officers that there is an officer in the station who wanted to see me. "I entered the station and, upon reaching the area of the charge room, another male voice directed me to enter a room located to the side of the charge room." The man said he met a police officer sitting behind a desk and was invited to sit. "I later discovered this officer's name to be Police Constable (Curt) Teesdale. After waiting for approximately 25 minutes, I asked PC Teesdale what he wanted to see me for. He did not answer. I repeated this question about five times. I received no reply." The man said he told Teesdale that he was leaving and attempted to leave but was followed out of the room and arrested. The court heard that the man was led to an area where there were cells and was ordered by Teesdale to remove his clothing in the presence of another officer identified only as "a slim, light-brown officer of East Indian origin dressed in police uniform".

"I attempted to hide my nudity with my hands. I was then told by PC Teesdale to move my hands from in front of me. I removed my hands. They both looked at me and started to laugh very loud.

"They ridiculed me. PC Teesdale then said to me, 'you playing man and that small cuckoo you have' referring to the size of my penis."

The man said he was made to squat while facing the officers and was in full view of anyone passing in the corridor.

"Due to my size, I tire easily. When I became tired, I sat on a cold concrete slab. I remained in the cell from approximately 5.10 p.m. to around 8.30p.m."

The man said he was taken out of the cell and told that he was free to leave. He said he was told by the officers, who were trying to make jokes and small talk, that he was being held for an ID parade.

Desired direction

A directional antenna is an antenna which radiates greater power in one or more directions allowing for increased performance on transmit and receive and reduced interference from unwanted sources.

Source

*

I focus.
I radiate more power.
My performance improves.
I increasingly give and receive.
I say goodbye to the unwanted.

A beautiful bubble was around them

Yesterday morning I went early to Manzanilla with a friend. I was going to shoot some footage, but ended up shooting nothing and just 'blowing with the wind'.

When we first arrived at Manzie, we were sitting on different parts of a fallen coconut tree. I was sitting at the lower end, facing the western part of the beach. In the distance, through the mist of sea spray, I could see two figures approaching us, holding hands and walking closely together. They appeared to be two young girls, but at that distance I couldn't be sure. At one point they stopped and one girl lay on her back on a fallen coconut tree. The other girl bent down and began to kiss her. This being Trinidad, where such a thing is not a common sight (or not seen at all in public), I thought: "Hmm, maybe it's a young boy and not a girl. Or (if they are two girls) maybe they think the beach is deserted and no-one can see them."

As if they heard me, they looked up and saw me facing in their direction. They stopped kissing and the girl who was standing simply started to stroke the stomach of the reclined figure. Even from a distance, it looked loving and gentle. Eventually the reclining figure got up and they continued walking towards us, holding hands. As they got closer I could see that they were indeed two young women in their late teens or early twenties.

My friend and I looked at each other and smiled, agreeing verbally how beautiful they looked. Not beautiful in a physical way (per se) although they were, but there seemed to be a beautiful bubble around them ... as though they were so content with each other that they just didn't care who was there or what any member of the public may have thought. They passed by us and greetings were exchanged.

They continued strolling slowly up the beach, holding hands, saying nothing to each other, yet looking like they were conversing deeply, like two old people who had been together for ages. Every now and then they would glance at each other then look forward and continue walking, their steps gracefully choreographed in natural unison (left, right, left, right). At times their hands would separate and they would just drift closer together so their bodies were touching. Then one would reach out and absently touch the other one's hair or bottom or back. It was all so natural that I could see they were not being showy, trying to add shock value or make any statements. They were simply in their own world of each other.

My friend and I sat there, unable to take our eyes away as the two girls calmly passed by a group of men sitting at the edge of the sand. They did not let their hands go, they did not quicken their steps. In fact they even paused and embraced lovingly before moving along. The men, even though they were facing the girls and must have seen them, did not ogle or follow them with their eyes and did not call out or say a word. There was no Pastor-Cuffie-meets-Elton-John moment as they came off the sand and disappeared near the carpark.

I said to my friend: "It's so beautiful and innocent that the men can't say anything."

(Some Trini men are the type to call out things like: "Pssssssst! Dahlin' ah could join yuh?! Dahlin' ah could convert yuh?")

After a while the girls reappeared and strolled back up the beach, past the men and a few other beachcombers. They looked peaceful, still holding hands and every now and then looking at each other. They passed by us, glanced and smiled and kept walking on in their beautiful bubble, eventually disappearing among the coconut trees.