That's Enough, Michael Bay

So I'm sitting here watching The Island for the first time, and even though I quickly surmise that I'm watching Logan's Run meets Blade Runner meets The Matrix, and even though Ewan McGregor's noble-but-still-not-quite-it attempt at an American accent is grating, I find myself enjoying it.

It is sci-fi, after all.

And then Michael Bay starts all his plot-killing horseshit.

The telltale drums begin and Ewan McGregor starts to run ... and I pull out my laptop and start playing Freecell.

After too many minutes, the movie slows down again and I get to enjoy a few moments with my man Steve Buscemi.

And then he gets killed and it all goes to hell.

As soon as the chase scene starts, I leave the room.  I make myself something to eat.  I do some stretching exercises.  I wash up for the night.  All the while I'm hearing explosions and crashes, and the only thing keeping me from throwing the television off the balcony is the sound of the engines revving.

The sound that never fails to cut straight through my disgust on its way to my erogenous zones.

Twenty long, abrasive, insulting minutes later, I'm left with two nagging questions.  Why wouldn't he have his owner's Scottish accent, and when are they going to get to the part where they learn about sex?

And then blah blah blah, this that and the other, and as the credits roll all I can think is this:

All of Michael Bay's movies would be only 45 minutes long if he took out all the completely identical, completely formulaic, completely boring "action" scenes.

And Michael Bay himself can take his lazy, product-placement-whoring ass and jump off one of his exploding bridges.

And The Official Online Reporter Is Born!

Blarg, spent WAY too many hours struggling with the website's software, and as such, got more incensed than I have in months, but in the end I finally got my first article published on Examiner.com!!!

I will be attempting to publish articles about things to see and do in the Hartford area about three times a week.

Check my first article out, and pass it on to anyone you think might be interested!

http://www.examiner.com/x-34102-Hartford-Destinations-Travel-Examiner~y2010m1d12-Got-a-case-of-the-winter-doldrums--Revive-your-spirits-by-going-somewhere-green

Monday Monday

A quick Trini-ism I learned today:  When I called a store and asked what their hours of operation were, I was told, "Half 8 to 5".  That threw me, so I asked the woman to repeat herself.  Finally I understood that "half 8" was the equivalent of "8:30".  It seemed odd to me that it wasn't "half past 8", but just "half 8".  I wonder if that stems from the Spanish influence on the language?  I didn't retain much from my 4 years of high school Spanish, but I do remember that the "30" mark was an important marker in telling time.  If it was before 8:30, it would be 8 plus however minutes past the hour it was.  If it was after 8:30, it would be 9 minus however minutes before the hour it was.

I dunno.  I'm probably just grasping.  But it still seems like an odd construction to simply say "half 8".  That feels like it's half of 8 (which would actually be 4), rather than half past 8. 

Annnnnd, now I'm going to stop blathering.

My Educational Sunday Drive

My neighbor invited me on an errand run with her today, and I have to say, it was probably the most informational errand run I've ever been on in my life.

What I Learned About Trinidad Today:

We went to the Port of Spain General hospital, where my neighbor is supervising some renovations.  She walked me through one of the wings under construction, and it looked very arcane - a huge open air ward,  with ceiling fans in place of a/c, that made me think at any moment I was going to see the ghost of a nurse in cap and cape walk through.  I assumed having a bunch of sick people together in a room that was open to the elements was a really bad idea, so I was surprised when my neighbor told me that the infection rate here is a lot lower than it is in more "technologically advanced" hospitals.  Maybe it's the fresh air and the fact that the germs aren't all trapped in an enclosed environment?

Moving on to the next shocking thing I learned today:  There's no open bottle law here.

No open bottle law, but there are regular traffic stops.  One of which we went through today.  These aren't DUI checkpoints, however, these are window tinting stops.  If the window tinting on your car is too dark, you have to pull over and peel it off right there.

So the lesson is, you can drive by a cop with an open beer bottle in your hand, but only if he can see you doing it.

Huh.

Finally, when we pulled into a gas station, I noticed that all the pumps carried only 92 and 95 octane.  Nothing lower than that.  No 87, no 89.  I'm curious if this is because this is the second largest oil/gas producing country in the world, behind Russia.  My thinking is that maybe the supply is so great, and therefore the price so low, that they don't need to offer the lower grades?  I wanted to compare the cost of gas here to the cost of gas at home, but I quickly saw that I would've had to figure out not only the TT-US dollar ratio, but also the liter-gallon ratio.  Too much work for my Sunday Afternoon Brain.

Maybe during our next erranding adventure.

...And We Have A Winner!!!

The votes have been tabulated, and the results are in.  The Trini Ice Cream Contest Winner is ... da da da daaaaa ...

Flavorite Supreme, ladies and gentlemen! 

It's not just good by Trini standards, it's good, period.  All yummy and creamy and junk.

And, as it turns out, the cheapest of the bunch. 

Now I can satisfy my self-destructive sweet tooth (did I mention I'm lactose intolerant?), my wallet, and my ideals at the same time.

If that isn't the definition of success, I don't know what is.

History In the Making?

So apparently there is an Indian woman here named Kamla Persad-Bissessar, who is running for leadership of her political party, the UNC (United National Congress).  [Trinidad, similar to America, has two major political parties.  The other party is the People's National Movement (PNM), which has been the governing power here since 2001.]

(I got this image from the TT Guardian website)

She is going up against the incumbent UNC Leader, Basdeo Panday.  Right now some polls are saying she's in the lead, and if she wins the January 24th election, she'll make history on two fronts.  She'd be the first female who ever contested, and won, the position of political leader of her party; she'd also be the second female ever to seek the position of Prime Minister of the country.

How cool would it be if I managed to witness history-in-the-making two years in a row:  Obama winning the office of President last year, and 'Kamla' winning the office of Prime Minister this year.

Eleven.  It would be Eleven Cool.

Bad Newspaper Layout

Check out what I found in one of the local papers.

Look at this page as a whole:

Honestly, I think the layout guy deserves to get fired for this.

I just noticed something

I talk about food a lot.

A lot.

This blog seems to have become less of a travel journal and more of a food journal.

Hmm.

You wouldn't think it from looking at me, but I guess that makes me something of a Foodie.

Hmm hmm.

Well, I don't have much to say about today, but let's see ... in keeping with the new theme, I could say that I made a tofu smoothie with kiwi and bananas last night, and my success with that has given me the impetus to go out and buy more tofu and fruit ... and smoothie the hell out of my coming days.

Gotta find a way to sweeten it up, though, without adding extra sugar.  Not because I'm necessarily anti-sugar, but mainly because honey, my preferred sweetener, is prohibitively expensive here.  More so than any other imported food.

Well hey - I guess I did mention something about Trinidad after all.

Whew.

Becoming A Citizen Of The World Again

My neighbor took me to the post office today to pick up a package that arrived for me last week.  Despite the unfortunate fact that every package sent to me, unless it's computer-related, comes with a V.A.T. charge of $76 TT (about $12 US), I was totally stoked about getting this one, a late Christmas present from Generous Laptop Refurbishing Guy.  It was huge and heavy and I couldn't wait to get home and open it up.

Then my neighbor decided that, since we were out, we should take a little tour.  The unwrapping would have to wait.  We drove out to a boatyard where there was a little restaurant she really liked.  We sat outside and ate burgers next to the water, and I cajoled her into regaling me with stories of the three and a half years she spent living on a boat with a French chef.

I'm telling you, start asking people to tell you their stories.  You'd be amazed at the world of lives out there.

I also learned a new Trini-ism at the restaurant.  When I saw a sign that read, "No bare feet, no bare back", I was confused.  Why weren't women allowed to wear low-backed halter tops inside a restaurant, I wondered?  I asked my neighbor about this and she informed me that "bare back" actually referred to shirtless guys.  Ah.  It was the "no shirt" equivalent of the "no shirt, no shoes, no service" policy.

For a minute there I thought maybe it was an admonition to practice safe sex.

Yuk yuk.

On the way back from the restaurant, I noticed that my neighbor, who'd only been back from the States for a few days, was driving on the right side of a two-lane road.  Feeling still confused about the rules of the road here, I asked her how the heck she knew this was a one-way road.  At which point she let out an expletive and swerved into the other lane, realizing she'd unwittingly fallen back into American-style driving.

It was completely adorable.

So then I got home, and tore into my Christmas package.  Once I got it open, I suddenly found myself covered in chocolate.  It was literally raining chocolate bars.

And these weren't just any chocolate bars.  These were Green & Black's organic chocolate bars.   

I normally try to keep a low profile in the complex, since I'm a couple years shy of the official minimum age for residents, but I may have given myself away today as the mound of chocolate, within which I found myself, set me to squealing, very loudly, several times.

There were 22 of them.  TWENTY-TWO.  Twenty-two bars of high-end organic chocolate, in every flavor they come in.  Now, if I had gotten merely one or two, I would have ripped through them immediately.  But the moment I discovered I had just acquired a monumental stash of cocoa gold, I suddenly became Ebenezer Scrooge.

Nobody, but nobody, is getting close enough to these things to even smell them.

Even I'm only allowed to take one nibble at a time.

And I make no apologies for that.

I mean, come on:

Ain't that a beautiful sight?

Food-Related Non-Sequiter Post Script:  Have you ever noticed how the scent of hamburger doesn't come off after just one hand-washing?  Why is that?

Necessity Is The Mother Of Invention

Earlier, as I stood in front of the stove, frying up some tofu and basmati rice with butter, salt and pepper, I realized that tonight - that simply would not do.

I was feeling cheeky, see, and in need of some flava'.

I checked the nearby cupboard and found nothing to work with, so I moved on to the fridge.  There I spotted a jar of green olives, with a few left in it.  Without a second thought, I dumped the whole jarful, juice and all, into the pan.  As I stirred it up, I thought, "This is a good start, but still not quite it."  So I checked out another cupboard, where my eyes fell upon a jar of Bacos.  Yup.  Bacon-flavored soy chunks.  For whatever reason, I thought, "YES!  This will do nicely!"  I gleefully shook a bunch into the pan, and was instantly gratified.  Now the dish was working - it had a good amount of color, and was infused with the fantastic aroma of bacon-y goodness.

When I finished it up and passed it on to the plate, I was shocked at how much I'd made.  I prayed it tasted as good as it looked.

I took one cautious bite ... and then didn't come up for air again until the plate was clean.  I finished the entire mound of deliciosity without batting an eyelash.

THAT - was fun.

Has It Been So Long?

Been here eight weeks today.  Oddly enough, when I'd only been here a few weeks, it seemed like I'd been here forever.  But now I find myself thinking, What?  I've been here for two months already???

As a special two-month offering, I will share with you the results of a little experiment I've been conducting.  In my continuing efforts to support the economy here, I've been trying out the local brands of ice cream.  I've tried three different kinds:  Dairy Bar, Munch Kings, and B's.

So far Munch Kings ranks far above the other two, but that's only because the other two are just abysmal.  I have one more to try, and then I can safely say I've given it a fair shot, and can run, guilt-free, back into the arms of my old love, Phish Food.

"Ben & Jerry's:  Twice as expensive, and twice as worth it."  That should be their new slogan.

Me ... And My Neeeeeiiiiighbor

Early this morning my neighbor got back from spending the holidays with her family in the States.

We hung out at her place tonight, noshing on hummus, drinking Shandy's, and swapping life stories.  A very good night, especially after the last two weeks of solitary confinement.

Today's Trinidad Definitions:

Wine - "to dance by rotating hips and bottom in an erotic manner".  Essentially, from my American viewpoint, "wining" is dry humping on the dance floor.  Or out in the middle of the street during Carnival.  And apparently your "wining bone" is what allows you to "move with suitable sensuality".

Jouvert (pronounced "joo-vay") - a party that marks the official start to Carnival.  There is music and dancing in the streets, and people smear themselves in paint, mud or oil, in remembrance of the time in the country's history when people had to practice their religious celebrations in secret, and had to cover themselves in paint or oil to avoid being recognized.

A New Year's Revelation

Spent the day:  1) watching a bunch of Jennifer Aniston movies on Lifetime that I'd never heard of before (and being really surprised that the woman actually has a movie career beyond Office Space and Along Came Polly); and 2) cleaning.  Laundry, dishes, bathroom, floors, you name it.  Not super exciting, but I figured it was a good way to start the new year.  

Unfortunately, however, I also realized something depressing.  Due to my recent state of self-imposed house arrest (in an effort to save money), the closest I've come to hearing actual steel band music - in this, the country that gave birth to the steel drum - is in the background of all the Girls Gone Wild commercials that come on in the wee hours of the morning.

Do shoot me please.

Really. 

One shot, right to the back of the head.

Blammo.

Just one shot, and no more college-aged boobs or "Television for Women".

Come onnnnnnnnnnnn...who would blame ya?