Felt a bit better today. Generous Laptop Refurbishing Guy e-mailed me my resume from home and I spent the day searching for jobs over the internet.
In the evening we went to dinner with my friend's neighbor, another American woman who's been here for about two years. We went to a Ruby Tuesday, believe it or not. I was hoping to see some local options on the menu, but it appears that homogeneity is king in Ruby's world.
Good burger, though. One difference between eating here and eating back home is that if you ask for a burger medium rare, you get a burger medium rare. Wasn't expecting that. Almost too pink.
Oh, and we got our little tree tonight! It's one of those blasphemous artificial dealies with the lights already strung up on it, but I guess it can be excused, since finding a pine tree here would be like finding atmosphere on Mars (and just ask Douglas Quaid about that). We also bought a bunch of green, red, blue and gold balls to hang on it. It was all really simple and cheap, but it made us giddy nonetheless. After we set it up we kept interrupting our conversation to say, "Aw, look at our adorable tree!", and bouncing around, singing, "We got a tree-eee, we got a tree-eee!"
Okay, the bouncing and singing part was mainly me, but the point still stands. We were happy.
By the way - speaking of happy, I haven't shared all the shocking similarities that my new roomie and I are constantly discovering about each other, but I have to share this one: One of her favorite movies? The Fifth Element. The Fifth Element, for god's sake. She even has it here with her. When I heard the sound of Ruby Rhod hollering from her bedroom the other night, I almost died.
Yeah, I'm in the right place.
At least for now.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Happy Three Weeks
Hit the three week mark today. To celebrate, I got smashed with one of my Dizzy Days. A bad one. One of the worst ever. Couldn't turn my head without feeling like I was gonna pass out. The only upside was the comfort I felt in knowing that my roommate used to be a nurse.
Of course, this was offset by all of her tales of how horrible the health care is here, so I'd be pretty much screwed if something bad happened.
You know, a little bit of black and white every once in a while wouldn't be so bad, would it?
Thankfully it rained like hell all day so my dizziness didn't keep us from going back to the beach. It did, however, cause us to miss a shopping excursion to buy some Christmas decorations. The coming of Christmas is making us both miss home something fierce and we decided to get a little tree.
Tomorrow, then.
If my head hasn't floated clean off my neck by that point.
Of course, this was offset by all of her tales of how horrible the health care is here, so I'd be pretty much screwed if something bad happened.
You know, a little bit of black and white every once in a while wouldn't be so bad, would it?
Thankfully it rained like hell all day so my dizziness didn't keep us from going back to the beach. It did, however, cause us to miss a shopping excursion to buy some Christmas decorations. The coming of Christmas is making us both miss home something fierce and we decided to get a little tree.
Tomorrow, then.
If my head hasn't floated clean off my neck by that point.
Friday, November 27, 2009
My Big Fat Shopping Excursion
My mother's friend sent me on a mission to get us sustenance today. She hates grocery shopping, and I was grateful for the opportunity to contribute, so she made up a list, gave me her card and her car keys, and sent me off to the supermarket.
Yes, she gave me her car keys. I actually drove to the supermarket. It was just around the corner, but I was still nervous. With the help of the mantra "stay to the left stay to the left stay to the left", however, I got there without incident.
Apart from accidentally turning on the wipers twice, when I meant to reach for the blinkers.
I took my time at the store, going up an down every aisle and familiarizing myself with everything they had to offer, and left an hour and a half later with eight bags under my arms, a better idea of the local brands, and a sense of accomplishment.
And then tonight we glutted ourselves on back-to-back episodes of Project Runway and piles of junk food.
And with that we officially became roommates ... and girlfriends.
Because it doesn't matter how evolved I may pretend to be, there is nothing like bonding with a chick over potato chips and crap television.
Yes, she gave me her car keys. I actually drove to the supermarket. It was just around the corner, but I was still nervous. With the help of the mantra "stay to the left stay to the left stay to the left", however, I got there without incident.
Apart from accidentally turning on the wipers twice, when I meant to reach for the blinkers.
I took my time at the store, going up an down every aisle and familiarizing myself with everything they had to offer, and left an hour and a half later with eight bags under my arms, a better idea of the local brands, and a sense of accomplishment.
And then tonight we glutted ourselves on back-to-back episodes of Project Runway and piles of junk food.
And with that we officially became roommates ... and girlfriends.
Because it doesn't matter how evolved I may pretend to be, there is nothing like bonding with a chick over potato chips and crap television.
My Take on Black Friday
I forgot to mention something that happened during yesterday's drive, along the same lines of the sidewalk-welding experience: On the way to the beach we had to drive around a guy who was working on a telephone pole, standing on top of an old metal ladder, that was sticking out two to three feet into the street. And the only precaution he had taken was to put a single orange cone in the middle of the road behind him.
Whole different world, I'm telling you.
On to today: My mother's friend took me to the mall around the corner from her place, and it was a very weird experience. I loathe malls and everything they stand for, yet at the same time, there was a familiarity (originating from unholy capitalistic greed, unfortunately) that gave me some sense of comfort.
And speaking of a sense of comfort stemming from pure evil, I have something sad to report. I fell off the wagon today. We went to eat at the food court, where I decided to try the local version of KFC. (I'd been told by both my drum instructor and my mother's friend that it's far better than its American counterpart.) Unfortunately, one of the drink offerings happened to be Mountain Dew. I got a little shiver down my spine at the sight of that familiar logo, but proudly remained strong and instead asked for an orange juice.
Which they were out of.
And that was all it took. I looked over at my friend, silently pleading for help, and she just smiled and ordered for me: Get the lady a Mountain Dew.
Well, I thought, it's out of my hands now.
Let me tell you: every single sip had me closing my eyes in ecstasy. As a connoisseur of all things Dew, I appreciate the distinct hierarchy of taste: At the bottom is Dew in a bottle. Next in line, canned Dew. But at the top, hands down, is fountain Dew. It's' just the best. And sure enough I was jonesing for it again today. Must-fight-urge ...
Moving on, I had a close encounter with a different kind of deliciosity today, too. My mother's friend went to her salon to get a manicure, and while I waited for her, I became engaged in a political discussion with the owners' son, a ridiculously gorgeous man who, it turns out, is a goalkeeper for the country's national field hockey team. WTF. I didn't do too much talking, which usually bugs the shit out of me, but not today. The subject matter was interesting, I got the opportunity to practice deciphering the Trini accent, and honestly, it gave me the perfect excuse to simply sit and stare at this guy, without shame. All I needed was a bag of popcorn and I would have been set.
Today's Trinidad Impression: Food pro's and con's: Con: There's not a whole lot of food that is manufactured locally. Consequently, there's a lot of stuff on the shelves that's imported, primarily from the U.K. or the U.S. What that means is that all the stuff I'm familiar with is more expensive here than it would be in the States. But on the pro side, there's not one McDonald's in sight. Not one. KFC, Subway, Burger King, even, but no evidence of Ronald anywhere.
Along those same lines, there's not one Wal-Mart in sight, either. No McDonald's, No Wal-Mart. It's like living in Eden.
As a side note, I got independent confirmation that the sound of my laughter is, in fact, indistinguishable from the sound of my sobbing. I was sitting in the living room watching America's Funniest Home Videos tonight, laughing my ass off, when my mother's friend called out from her room to ask me if I was okay. She thought I was crying.
:)
Whole different world, I'm telling you.
On to today: My mother's friend took me to the mall around the corner from her place, and it was a very weird experience. I loathe malls and everything they stand for, yet at the same time, there was a familiarity (originating from unholy capitalistic greed, unfortunately) that gave me some sense of comfort.
And speaking of a sense of comfort stemming from pure evil, I have something sad to report. I fell off the wagon today. We went to eat at the food court, where I decided to try the local version of KFC. (I'd been told by both my drum instructor and my mother's friend that it's far better than its American counterpart.) Unfortunately, one of the drink offerings happened to be Mountain Dew. I got a little shiver down my spine at the sight of that familiar logo, but proudly remained strong and instead asked for an orange juice.
Which they were out of.
And that was all it took. I looked over at my friend, silently pleading for help, and she just smiled and ordered for me: Get the lady a Mountain Dew.
Well, I thought, it's out of my hands now.
Let me tell you: every single sip had me closing my eyes in ecstasy. As a connoisseur of all things Dew, I appreciate the distinct hierarchy of taste: At the bottom is Dew in a bottle. Next in line, canned Dew. But at the top, hands down, is fountain Dew. It's' just the best. And sure enough I was jonesing for it again today. Must-fight-urge ...
Moving on, I had a close encounter with a different kind of deliciosity today, too. My mother's friend went to her salon to get a manicure, and while I waited for her, I became engaged in a political discussion with the owners' son, a ridiculously gorgeous man who, it turns out, is a goalkeeper for the country's national field hockey team. WTF. I didn't do too much talking, which usually bugs the shit out of me, but not today. The subject matter was interesting, I got the opportunity to practice deciphering the Trini accent, and honestly, it gave me the perfect excuse to simply sit and stare at this guy, without shame. All I needed was a bag of popcorn and I would have been set.
Today's Trinidad Impression: Food pro's and con's: Con: There's not a whole lot of food that is manufactured locally. Consequently, there's a lot of stuff on the shelves that's imported, primarily from the U.K. or the U.S. What that means is that all the stuff I'm familiar with is more expensive here than it would be in the States. But on the pro side, there's not one McDonald's in sight. Not one. KFC, Subway, Burger King, even, but no evidence of Ronald anywhere.
Along those same lines, there's not one Wal-Mart in sight, either. No McDonald's, No Wal-Mart. It's like living in Eden.
As a side note, I got independent confirmation that the sound of my laughter is, in fact, indistinguishable from the sound of my sobbing. I was sitting in the living room watching America's Funniest Home Videos tonight, laughing my ass off, when my mother's friend called out from her room to ask me if I was okay. She thought I was crying.
:)
Thursday, November 26, 2009
A Caribbean Turkey Day Celebration
Thanksgiving! At least in the States. To celebrate, my mother's (American) friend took me to the beach, where we spent the day playing in the warm, pristine waters of the Caribbean. Definitely gave me something to be thankful for. First time I really felt like I was blessed to be living in the Caribbean, as opposed to stressed about living in the Caribbean.
And then something happened that made me think, for the first time, that the Universe was telling me I was doing the right thing here. Check this out. We're playing in the water and I don't know much about body surfing. Consequently, when a particularly large wave came upon us, I had no idea what to do, besides think, "Oh shit." And then I got smashed with it. I got tumbled around a little bit, not too long, but long enough for me to wonder what it felt like to be caught in a riptide, and then I was out of it, awkwardly stumbling and spluttering.
And realizing that I'd just lost my glasses.
I'd lost my glasses, see, because I'd kept them on while I was playing in the water. I'd kept them on even after I'd thought about taking them off, even after I thought about what would happen in the likely event they got knocked off my face, even after I told myself to stop being lazy and stupid and just go to the shore and drop them there, for god's sake.
So then, my friend and I actually tried to find them. We actually went through the motions of peering through the water, fanning our feet across the bottom, and even ensnaring another couple in our search. I was the first to give up, because I realized how ridiculous and futile the whole thing was and how slim the odds were that I would ever see (pun intended) them again. My friend, however, had much more faith than I did, and continued to look even after I'd returned to playing. Finally she gave up, too, and we headed back to our blanket, with her maintaining the hope that they would eventually turn up on shore. An hour or so later she was called back to the waves, but I stayed on land, trying to soak up some more Vitamin D. (By the way, the couple I mentioned? They eventually came out to dry off, too, and told me they'd kept on looking even after my friend and I had stopped. I love Trinidadians.) A little while later I re-joined my friend in the water, and after a particularly large wave hit, I stood up and felt something hard by my feet. I reached down, thinking there was no way, and pulled up ... a reed. I laughed, but then felt something else tucked in the sand by my feet. I kept my foot planted there so I wouldn't lose it when another wave hit, and then I reached down, and pulled up ... my glasses. Against every odd imaginable, I'd found my freaking glasses. I found them in the same circumstance I was in when I lost them, hours later, in an entirely different spot. After I'd decided I wasn't going back in the water.
If that's not a message from The Universe, then I don't know what is.
When I found them I started flailing and screaming to get my friend's attention so I could share the amazing news, until I realized that probably wasn't the best thing to do while playing out in the waves at the beach.
Okay, so Miracle: Check. Onto the Weirdness Factor. When we got back to the parking lot at the end of the day, I saw a dog lying on its side. I thought it was dead at first, until I noticed it was breathing. So I kept on walking, and much to my surprise, I came upon another dog on its side. Then I looked across the lot ... and saw another. And then another, and then ... another. I am not exaggerating. Five dogs littered across the parking lot, looking like they'd been hit by the plague. I was dying. So I made a spectacle of myself scuttling all over the place trying to steal their souls so I could do a pictorial essay on The Dogs That Dropped Like Flies, but the stupid things had that annoying trait dogs have, of hyper-sensitive hearing and alertness, and kept waking up every time I got near.
Today's Trinidad Impression: "Flies and chickens something something something dickens". So apparently dogs are not the only creatures to be found all over the place here. First there were the chickens. When we initially pulled into the parking lot, there were a couple of chickens calmly strolling around, utterly heedless of the giant death machine bearing down upon them. It was really weird. And the other creature that can be found all over the beach? Mother f***ing sand flies. I got introduced to this delightful native nuisance after I got out of the water the first time. Let's just say I left that day a couple shades darker, with sand in my clothes and constellations of bug bites all over my legs. Literally, constellations. I've got the big dipper on my right leg.
Today's Trinidad Horribly Depressing Discovery: I CAN'T GET HULU HERE. Which means, no Office, No Southpark, No Family Guy, No Tool Academy, even. YES, this matters, leave me alone. You go to a foreign country all alone and see if YOU don't freak out when you can't access your preferred method of escapism.
Blargh.
And then something happened that made me think, for the first time, that the Universe was telling me I was doing the right thing here. Check this out. We're playing in the water and I don't know much about body surfing. Consequently, when a particularly large wave came upon us, I had no idea what to do, besides think, "Oh shit." And then I got smashed with it. I got tumbled around a little bit, not too long, but long enough for me to wonder what it felt like to be caught in a riptide, and then I was out of it, awkwardly stumbling and spluttering.
And realizing that I'd just lost my glasses.
I'd lost my glasses, see, because I'd kept them on while I was playing in the water. I'd kept them on even after I'd thought about taking them off, even after I thought about what would happen in the likely event they got knocked off my face, even after I told myself to stop being lazy and stupid and just go to the shore and drop them there, for god's sake.
So then, my friend and I actually tried to find them. We actually went through the motions of peering through the water, fanning our feet across the bottom, and even ensnaring another couple in our search. I was the first to give up, because I realized how ridiculous and futile the whole thing was and how slim the odds were that I would ever see (pun intended) them again. My friend, however, had much more faith than I did, and continued to look even after I'd returned to playing. Finally she gave up, too, and we headed back to our blanket, with her maintaining the hope that they would eventually turn up on shore. An hour or so later she was called back to the waves, but I stayed on land, trying to soak up some more Vitamin D. (By the way, the couple I mentioned? They eventually came out to dry off, too, and told me they'd kept on looking even after my friend and I had stopped. I love Trinidadians.) A little while later I re-joined my friend in the water, and after a particularly large wave hit, I stood up and felt something hard by my feet. I reached down, thinking there was no way, and pulled up ... a reed. I laughed, but then felt something else tucked in the sand by my feet. I kept my foot planted there so I wouldn't lose it when another wave hit, and then I reached down, and pulled up ... my glasses. Against every odd imaginable, I'd found my freaking glasses. I found them in the same circumstance I was in when I lost them, hours later, in an entirely different spot. After I'd decided I wasn't going back in the water.
If that's not a message from The Universe, then I don't know what is.
When I found them I started flailing and screaming to get my friend's attention so I could share the amazing news, until I realized that probably wasn't the best thing to do while playing out in the waves at the beach.
Okay, so Miracle: Check. Onto the Weirdness Factor. When we got back to the parking lot at the end of the day, I saw a dog lying on its side. I thought it was dead at first, until I noticed it was breathing. So I kept on walking, and much to my surprise, I came upon another dog on its side. Then I looked across the lot ... and saw another. And then another, and then ... another. I am not exaggerating. Five dogs littered across the parking lot, looking like they'd been hit by the plague. I was dying. So I made a spectacle of myself scuttling all over the place trying to steal their souls so I could do a pictorial essay on The Dogs That Dropped Like Flies, but the stupid things had that annoying trait dogs have, of hyper-sensitive hearing and alertness, and kept waking up every time I got near.
Today's Trinidad Impression: "Flies and chickens something something something dickens". So apparently dogs are not the only creatures to be found all over the place here. First there were the chickens. When we initially pulled into the parking lot, there were a couple of chickens calmly strolling around, utterly heedless of the giant death machine bearing down upon them. It was really weird. And the other creature that can be found all over the beach? Mother f***ing sand flies. I got introduced to this delightful native nuisance after I got out of the water the first time. Let's just say I left that day a couple shades darker, with sand in my clothes and constellations of bug bites all over my legs. Literally, constellations. I've got the big dipper on my right leg.
Today's Trinidad Horribly Depressing Discovery: I CAN'T GET HULU HERE. Which means, no Office, No Southpark, No Family Guy, No Tool Academy, even. YES, this matters, leave me alone. You go to a foreign country all alone and see if YOU don't freak out when you can't access your preferred method of escapism.
Blargh.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Small Victories
I GOT A PHONE TODAY!!!
I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah...
This was basically the only thing I accomplished today, but I swear when I walked out of that store, I felt like I'd just built Stonehenge. All by myself.
So today's daily walk to town was chock full of hilarity. On the way to town I got more male attention than usual, and the call "Sexy sexy" was directed at me more than once. I have no idea what kind of vibe I was giving off, because it certainly wasn't what I was wearing. Honestly, mysogyny aside, you HAVE to respect a culture that creates men who appreciate the idea of Woman so much, that they can find something sexy in a skinny, translucent, older-ish chick wearing flip flops, baggy knee-length shorts and a loose t-shirt. I'm sorry, but that's just freaking great. Try to find a guy in the States who would've thought I looked sexy in that, I dare you.
On a clothing-related note, all the school kids wear uniforms. I think that's the Catholic influence in the country. At the library today, one uniform-clad schoolgirl took a liking to me, informing me, when she saw me peel the protective plastic cover off my shiny new cell phone, that it was there to keep the face from getting scratched. I laughed, telling her I knew that but I always obsessively peel the protective plastic wrapper off every new item I get. This cracked her up, and she scooted her seat next to mine. Then she watched everything I was doing on the internet, and was shocked at how fast I type. I told her I took classes in school, and did a lot of typing in all the offices where I've worked over the years. This gave her guardian, a woman sitting nearby, the opportunity to tell her that this was the benefit of taking classes and working hard. It was kinda cool to inadvertently find myself part of a life lesson.
Also, it was a strangely liberating experience to compose personal e-mails knowing full well that an adorable little urchin was reading every single word I wrote.
Continuing on with the hilarity, on my way back from the library (carrying my giant, like 3-foot long, bright red Digicel umbrella that I'd just gotten as a welcome gift when I bought my cell phone), I suddenly see sparks hitting the sidewalk in front of me. I look up, and there's a guy doing some welding on top of a wall, right next to the street. I actually had to wait for the sparks to stop dropping before I could pass. Can you imagine this happening in the States? There'd be seventeen lawsuits before the first spark hit the pavement. Cracked my ass up.
Five steps later I walk by one of the many vendors selling bootleg dvd's and cd's, and hear the hilariously incongruous sound of Elvis crooning "Blue Christmas".
Then, after passing my fruitstand guy, and exchanging one of those silent guy chin-nod acknowledgement things, I passed this lady who beams at me and says "Hello darling" every time I pass her. I don't know why this is so, but this lady just adores me. She's not crazy, she's not selling anything, she doesn't even try to talk to me, she just lights up when she sees me, like I'm her favorite child or something. I enjoy this very much.
Tonight's Trinidad Impression: The "Double", another tradition that my drum instructor's wife treated me to. Oh my god, this is now my new favorite food. It's another Indian dish, a spicy chickpea (or 'channa'), curry and mango chutney concoction, wrapped up in this soft, sweet bread that made my eyes roll back in my head. The sweet/spicy combo is just right.
Of course, I'm allergic to wheat and chickpeas give me gas, so it's absolutely the wrong thing for me to ever be eating.
Ever ever.
I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah I got a phone today I got a phone yeah yeah...
This was basically the only thing I accomplished today, but I swear when I walked out of that store, I felt like I'd just built Stonehenge. All by myself.
So today's daily walk to town was chock full of hilarity. On the way to town I got more male attention than usual, and the call "Sexy sexy" was directed at me more than once. I have no idea what kind of vibe I was giving off, because it certainly wasn't what I was wearing. Honestly, mysogyny aside, you HAVE to respect a culture that creates men who appreciate the idea of Woman so much, that they can find something sexy in a skinny, translucent, older-ish chick wearing flip flops, baggy knee-length shorts and a loose t-shirt. I'm sorry, but that's just freaking great. Try to find a guy in the States who would've thought I looked sexy in that, I dare you.
On a clothing-related note, all the school kids wear uniforms. I think that's the Catholic influence in the country. At the library today, one uniform-clad schoolgirl took a liking to me, informing me, when she saw me peel the protective plastic cover off my shiny new cell phone, that it was there to keep the face from getting scratched. I laughed, telling her I knew that but I always obsessively peel the protective plastic wrapper off every new item I get. This cracked her up, and she scooted her seat next to mine. Then she watched everything I was doing on the internet, and was shocked at how fast I type. I told her I took classes in school, and did a lot of typing in all the offices where I've worked over the years. This gave her guardian, a woman sitting nearby, the opportunity to tell her that this was the benefit of taking classes and working hard. It was kinda cool to inadvertently find myself part of a life lesson.
Also, it was a strangely liberating experience to compose personal e-mails knowing full well that an adorable little urchin was reading every single word I wrote.
Continuing on with the hilarity, on my way back from the library (carrying my giant, like 3-foot long, bright red Digicel umbrella that I'd just gotten as a welcome gift when I bought my cell phone), I suddenly see sparks hitting the sidewalk in front of me. I look up, and there's a guy doing some welding on top of a wall, right next to the street. I actually had to wait for the sparks to stop dropping before I could pass. Can you imagine this happening in the States? There'd be seventeen lawsuits before the first spark hit the pavement. Cracked my ass up.
Five steps later I walk by one of the many vendors selling bootleg dvd's and cd's, and hear the hilariously incongruous sound of Elvis crooning "Blue Christmas".
Then, after passing my fruitstand guy, and exchanging one of those silent guy chin-nod acknowledgement things, I passed this lady who beams at me and says "Hello darling" every time I pass her. I don't know why this is so, but this lady just adores me. She's not crazy, she's not selling anything, she doesn't even try to talk to me, she just lights up when she sees me, like I'm her favorite child or something. I enjoy this very much.
Tonight's Trinidad Impression: The "Double", another tradition that my drum instructor's wife treated me to. Oh my god, this is now my new favorite food. It's another Indian dish, a spicy chickpea (or 'channa'), curry and mango chutney concoction, wrapped up in this soft, sweet bread that made my eyes roll back in my head. The sweet/spicy combo is just right.
Of course, I'm allergic to wheat and chickpeas give me gas, so it's absolutely the wrong thing for me to ever be eating.
Ever ever.
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
My Stomach Hates Me
Okay, now I've had my third sighting of a man walking with a bird in a cage. Seriously, WTF???
And speaking of wtf, my intestinal tract has suddenly gone haywire on me. Good times. I can't tell you how much I enjoy playing these health-related detective games. "What did I eat?" "I ate that thing today, but I had that other thing last night. How long does it take for food to move through your system?" "It couldn't be this thing, because I've eaten that before without any trouble." "I am allergic to those things, but my body doesn't usually react like that." "Maybe my body needs to get used to the food." "Maybe it's stress."
BLARG.
So I've decided that Rastafarian cooking, known as "Ital", is going to be the way for me to go. All veggie, no preservatives. The closest I can get to "clean" eating here. Cross your fingers.
Oh, and forget what I said about there being no flying bugs. The rain has changed all of that. Two words: flying ants. It's a damned good thing I'm no Buddhist, because the amount of these things I've killed with my bare hands (too pissed off to even bother with a tissue) in the past few days would have me coming back for several lifetimes to come.
Today's Trinidad Impression: Peanut Punch. Peanut butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, condensed milk. Yum YUM. My drum instructor's wife made it for me. As an added treat she added some Angostura bitters to it.
The Angostura company is a big deal here. The secret recipe for the bitters (which is still secret today) was developed in 1824 by a Venezuelan doctor who was trying to come up with the correct combination of herbs and spices to help soldiers who were having tummy troubles. Bitters is added to a lot of drinks, especially liquor. It's got a really yummy flavor, and I sprinkled a bunch in my next couple of glasses of water, hoping it would help my stupid belly.
No luck yet.
And speaking of wtf, my intestinal tract has suddenly gone haywire on me. Good times. I can't tell you how much I enjoy playing these health-related detective games. "What did I eat?" "I ate that thing today, but I had that other thing last night. How long does it take for food to move through your system?" "It couldn't be this thing, because I've eaten that before without any trouble." "I am allergic to those things, but my body doesn't usually react like that." "Maybe my body needs to get used to the food." "Maybe it's stress."
BLARG.
So I've decided that Rastafarian cooking, known as "Ital", is going to be the way for me to go. All veggie, no preservatives. The closest I can get to "clean" eating here. Cross your fingers.
Oh, and forget what I said about there being no flying bugs. The rain has changed all of that. Two words: flying ants. It's a damned good thing I'm no Buddhist, because the amount of these things I've killed with my bare hands (too pissed off to even bother with a tissue) in the past few days would have me coming back for several lifetimes to come.
Today's Trinidad Impression: Peanut Punch. Peanut butter, cinnamon, nutmeg, condensed milk. Yum YUM. My drum instructor's wife made it for me. As an added treat she added some Angostura bitters to it.
The Angostura company is a big deal here. The secret recipe for the bitters (which is still secret today) was developed in 1824 by a Venezuelan doctor who was trying to come up with the correct combination of herbs and spices to help soldiers who were having tummy troubles. Bitters is added to a lot of drinks, especially liquor. It's got a really yummy flavor, and I sprinkled a bunch in my next couple of glasses of water, hoping it would help my stupid belly.
No luck yet.
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