A scary story for Nan with horny demons and broom sticks.

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My bee-ooootiful friend Nan wants us folks who read her blog to write some scary stories, preferably with ghosts. Ooooo, OOOOOO. I don't have a story with ghosts; will horny demons be ok, Nan?

Back in 1999 I worked ''down south'' in Trinidad. Every evening, I would take a taxi to Chaguanas, my home town, and call home for someone to come pick me up. This was before everybody and their toddler had cell phones, so a line at the sole working pay phone was inevitable.

Sidenote: A working pay phone in Trinidad is a rare thing, at least most of the times that I have ever needed it. Like that time Dominique and I shut down just outside the most notorious ghetto (Beetham / Laventille) at 5 am (which incidentally is a scary story by itself). We walked all over town trying to find a phone after being robbed, never found one, begged the manager at KFC to no avail, and were eventually pitied by a KFC customer who had a cell. But that's another story.

So I was walking to the snaking pay phone line, cigarette in hand after the no-smoking taxi ride and minding my own biz. At the end of the line, there is a tall, dark man with a white tam (that's the small hat often worn by muslim men). He starts looking around, agitated. Then he zeros in on me.

''You should be smoking Broadway, not DuMaurier'' he offers.

Out loud ''Um, yeah, ok'', smile. Mentally ''Whatever dude'', roll eyes and make this face :-S

''Broadway is a spiritual cigarette and you are a spiritual person''.

Raise eyebrow ''OK'', and start looking around to avoid further conversation and wish for own car to avoid the weirdos associated with public transport and public phones.

Another sidenote: If it wasn't for this particular weirdo, I would have nothing to write for Nan. So thanks dude, and thank you Universe for making not rich enough to have my own car and cell phone in 1999.

Back to the Man in the Tam. ''Your lucky colour is blue, and your business day is Wednesday. You should wear blue on Wednesdays when you have meetings or anything important at work.''

Sigh, I guess this beats standing in a long line staring at my toes. ''Yeah? What else?''

From here on, my memory gets a bit blurry. There were a bunch of things he told me, but I don't remember them all. So where's the scary part, right? It's coming, it's coming.

''You have bruises on your thighs. You get headaches and back pains. You have a vaginal infection.''

BLINK BLINK.

''There is a demon having intercourse with you on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. That's why you wake up feeling so tired on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.''

Honestly, I thought the Saturday crap feeling was just a hangover. The other days, were probably because I went to sleep too late. Couldn't explain the bruises, pains and itchies though. As for how the hell he KNEW???

''It was from a woman, through a man. She is jealous of you. Your light is growing dim and you need to do something about it.''

I think I asked him what I needed to do, or something else at that point. I remember he told me how to get to where he lived because he could help me; he was a Spiritual Baptist leader, also known as an Obeah Man (Voodoo Doctor is another name).

''But you will do something when the time is right for you.''

By this time, we are at the front of the line. He makes his call; I, with shaking knees make mine.

We continued talking; I guess about my demons. I don't really remember.

A few days later, I was liming (that's trini-speak for hanging out) with my usual crew, at the usual place: The Sheppard's house. Nan, being married to a Sheppard, was also there. Of course I told my story. Nan offered to take me to see a friend of hers, a yogi.

Sometime later (a few weeks, or maybe even months I think) we went.

Deep into the Paramin hills of Trinidad's Northern Range.

It looked like something out of a movie; maybe like a hobbit village in Lord of the Rings.

A house built into the mountain. Small huts around. White painted stones. Meandering paths. Huge trees that grew where they wanted, and have lived longer than my grandparents.

The yogi had long whitish-blonde hair. She had that open warmth about her. The kind where you know the person is real. She hugged like that too. An open full hug. ''We were sisters in a past life'' she told me.

Yes, it's another sidenote. She also told me that I will be a writer. And that I should write when I can. It has only taken me nearly 10 years to start doing it.

I told her about the man, the demons, how much I prayed that night, and many nights after, and that the symptoms had gone.

She took me, with my friend Rachel to one of the wooden huts. Nan was pregnant at the time, and decided to stay back at the main house. There was a straw mat on the ground, big open windows; a little bird was flitting around inside.

''You can lie down there'' she said warmly, pointing at the mat, and picking up 2 cocoyea brooms.

Sidenote of actual importance: Cocoyea is the spine of coconut tree leaves. The leaves are stripped, and the spines can then be tied together in big bunches to make brooms. They are great for sweeping the yard, and also, apparently for getting rid of horny demons.

''Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali'' she chanted, circling me, sweeping the spindly brooms over my body, inches from my skin. ''Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali'' louder and louder, picking up the pace.

''Get out! You are not welcome here. Leave her alone. Go away.'' Sweeping, circling, chanting.

''Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali, Ohm Kali''. Her chants began to get calmer, softer. And then she stopped.

''You must be a very strong person to have kept him off for so long. But he is gone now.''

I'm baaaack... kinda

I'm still on vacation, but I have returned to the land of internet connections and laptops. Not that they were missed really.

My wonderful friend Nan, and her equally wonderful hubby (who I have known since i was I-don't-even-remember-how-old) put up with me, the Angel and the Funny Dude for 5 whole days on their family vacation down the islands.

Thanks be to God that she isn't crawling yet though, whew. Jetties and crawling babies, methinks, are a heart-attack-inducing combo.

But how wonderful to have lots of aunties around to drink tea, and the occasional baby-is-sleeping-beer, gossip, trade tips, and do other female bonding things with! And rambunctious little boys who can transform and be oh-so-gentle. And the beach just outside your door laden with cool shells, driftwood and rocks for Angels to explore. And warm, calm water for hours of splashing immediately followed by mama-gets-a-break-naps in a breezy hammock. And huge spreads of yummy, tasty, mouth watering, trini food!!!

And all in one place, surrounded by close friends.

It is going to be really hard to leave this time :(

Oh Happy Day

Doesn't this pic just about sum it up? I love my country... and it appears, so does the angel.

She is such a trooper! She has crossed the Atlantic, gone from living like a hermit to being surrounded be dozens of adoring aunties, uncles, grannies, grandads, some sober, some not, but all adoring and whisking her off to be adored by more aunties et al. And she isn't complaining!

And her mama is eternally grateful.

Grateful for the other mama friends who have completely different parenting styles, but don't judge. Grateful for friends who are there to talk about everything from nappies and boobs to Brangelina. Grateful for fabulous friends who have houses on the beach and allow us to come stay. Grateful for wonderful friends who take the angel to see the cool stuff over-there so that her mama can be not-over-there, even if it is only for 5 minutes. Grateful for grannies who cook breakfast, lunch, dinner. Grateful for a wonderful funny dude who looks after himself, doesn't mind the hours of girl talk, or at least doesn't complain, and fits in with ease.

Life is good.

And the winner is...

BEANS! YAY for Beans! This is your prize! It's a water-colour of the Old Town done by a local artist. The bar I met hubby at is just around the corner on the right :)

But Beans has Estonian friends in London if I remember correctly. So she might have had a slight advantage.

Everybody got the one about lining up right. Am I the only person that thinks standing parallel to the counter is strange? Lord knows how many times I glared at people that I thought were skipping the line; those rude Estonians! Now I understand why they were looking at me like I had a stray booger.

As for your neighbour in the elevator. Well, I've tried each approach. The only one guaranteed to not result in that booger look is avoiding all eye contact. I have encountered the occasional friendly Estonian where the brief nod of acknowledgement has resulted in a brief nod back. Anybody that responded to a hello and a smile would turn out to be something else, but not Estonian. They are a quiet people. Silence in Golden in their world. I think my loud Trini-ness kinda scares some of them, especially considering some of them have never seen a real chocolate face before.

I see we have lots of drinkers in the house! But the first time I ever heard of sour milk for a hangover was here in Tallinn. They call it Keefir. I dunno about you, but the thought of anything sour when my tummy is already upside down just aint pleasant. And Tash, sushi is perfect anti-hurl food.

And how many times have I tried to hand cash or my card to a poor, bewildered cashier. Or stretched out expectantly for my change. Then I remember the little plastic tray.

Sour cream in Potato Salad. And in a lot of other salads too. They really dig the sour thing. Hubby thinks I am weird for using mayo. I had to make him google potato salad recipes to prove that the rest of the world uses mayo. He still thinks I'm weird. And that the ambiguous white sauce... turns out its a mayo / sour cream combo. But they don't use it with the tater salad.

So that's it for your Tallinn 101 today :)

I'm off to papa-in-law in the country in the mornin'. See ya on Monday :)

The Great Carnival Hat of 2007

Today I pay homage to my friend Nan, and her friend Witchypoo, and the Great Carnival Hat of 2007.

Here's to the wonderfulness of bloggy friends :)

There's no place like home!

I'm going home in July :)  

Home is far far FAR away from where I live now, and even though I haven't lived there in 2 years, and probably won't live there again for many more, if ever at all, it is still home.  I think it will always be for me.  With all it's sky-rocketing crime, idiot politicians who call themselves leaders, and crazy inflation among other issues, I still love it there and miss it terribly. 

Even though I am over-the-moon to be going home, I can't help but feel some trepidation about the visit.

What I can't wait for:

SUN SUN SUN!  And not having to wear more than 1 layer of clothing.  Summer here in Estonia seems to have come and gone a few weeks ago.  Bleh.

Going Down the Islands with my 2nd family.  Hi Y'all!!  I miss you guys!  It's cool that I call y'all my second family right?  That's what you all are to me anyway.  I am soooo looking forward to seeing you guys and the lime!

FOOOOOOD!!  One of the things that ALL trinis miss when they leave home.  Roti, doubles, a good pelau, bake and shark, mango chow, curry duck, coconut water, Aunty Fatima's corn soup... drool drool drool.  I think I will be coming back to Tallinn a dress size or 2 larger.  Tough luck.

My Girlfriends.  It will be nice to have people other than hubby and baby to talk to.  Not that I don't like talking to them... I'm all about ''goo goo ga ga'' during the day and  ''baby ima want you'' at night (kidding, kidding), but there is nothing that can really replace your girls.  I miss them more than they probably realize, especially the mommy-ones.  Now that I've joined them there, I really miss having that support that only other moms can give a girl.  It will also be cool to be able to talk as fast as I want, in English, and not having to deal with the confused looks from others when everything gets lost in translation... if it was ever found to begin with.

 

The Family.  I can't wait for them to meet the Angel :)  I am dying to see my dad play with her like he played with me.  And I know my mom is counting down the days to being able to snuggle with her Pinky.  I think they are looking forward to seeing her more than seeing me!  I'm sorry my brother won't be there though.  And it will be great to have a couple extra pairs of hands so that I can cop a five now and then... if the Angel approves of course.

Tomorrow:   What I CAN wait for.