So once I COSed, I made plans to meet up with Meena on that Friday, meet her in Georgetown as she came in to do shopping, then I would go with her back to the Coast.
I met up with Meena and Springee, Meena looking stylish in form-fitting jeans and her hair in a curly ponytail. (Ladies normally wear skirts at home and around the village). We had an ice cream cone, then headed off. They led me to a motorboat going to Vreed En Hoop.The boat ride went quickly, only $100 per ride, then we went to a stall in Vreed En Hoop and talked with a friend of the family. Meena said that their son, Shiva, lived with her; it was Vreed En Hoop where he was in the car accident and died.
We took a cab to her house and met up with the Uncle. We limed on their veranda, drinking Pepsi as I listened and noted their coastal accent, trying to catch all they said. We eventually got a 32 bus on the main road, and took that into Parika. At Parika, we went down the wooden steps at the stelling, right into a motorboat that seats around 20 people. Putting on life vests, we set out, across the delta, for a 25 minute ride to Supenaam. The ride was smooth this time; I remember that ride as sometimes being a wet whiplash of an event. We got to the Supenaam stelling. They had a cab already waiting, Aajay, and we took off down the coast, sun shimmering on the left of the road, highlighting the green of the palm trees and rice fields. On the right, houses, and the sea wall which was out of sight, but close by.
We went past village after village; the E/bo coast is one main road, with small side roads , and taxis, cantors, motorbikes, horse carts, cows and sheep all up in the road – with no speed limit. The longer we traveled, I started recognizing the different villages, as they were ones my fellow PCT’s lived in during training – Suddie, Affiance, Anna Regina... We reached Windsor Castle, one village up from the village I lived in during training, Hampton Court. Meena and Springee had moved in with Springee’s Dad after his mother died. We got dropped off and walked across the bridge and over the trench, into the bottom area of the house (the houses on the coast are all up on stilts, some having pretty complete groundfloorss, but still, the house part is the second floor.) For this house, the kitchen area, cooking area, washing area, shower area and liming area were downstairs, then upstairs was the bathroom bedrooms and a living room with a TV and DVD player. My host sister, Val, was cooking roti, her husband, Vish, around, and their toddler, Jeevin, running around between them.
We ate dinner downstairs, dhall and roti, and I remembered that utensils aren’t heavily used in this neck of the woods. Also, they serve hot tea with every meal. During the meal, Jeevin ran around, and it was easy to see that this kid was quite developed. I mean, physically, he is pretty sturdy, but he also simply acts older than other 22 month old toddlers. But then again, maybe I’ve been in the Rupununi for too long. He has a wide vocabulary, too. He would run around, pointing to things and calling ‘ting name? ting name!’ A cheerful kid, too, just like his mom.
I watched them laugh and play together a lot over the weekend. Val wouldn’t get vexed with his bad behaviour, she would laugh it off, and he quickly abandoned any naughtiness for giggles as well. Val seemed to take to motherhood pretty easily, though I would not have expected her to have kids so soon. But this kid is certainly not wanting for attention and direction; he has two parents who obviously take care of him well and love him and he has two live-in grandparents who clearly ADORE him and provide countless distractions to him. I know to Meena, he’s like another child she never had. She has so much mothering inside of her. And to Springee, stoic Springee, he was frolicking on the ground with little Jeevin, talking baby talk to him. Val and Meena say he’s Nanu’s boy (A term for grandpa in hindi). We went upstairs after and watched Jungle Book 2, which they had just bought in Town. They fixed up a bed for me (with a mosquito net, of course) and I went to sleep, soundly, comfortable and safe with my family.
Saturday, I woke up with the family, around 7, and was immediately given breakfast and tea by Val, as she looked after Jeevin, and Springee and Vish got ready to go to work at the backdam. After they left, Meena went to their old house to collect some coconuts; she was going to make oil to sell. Val and I had the house to ourselves, and we took that time to talk and start preparing lunch. Val and Meena would hardly let me lift a finger. Sometimes I think they forget I’ve had three years in the country and I’m still a helpless little Trainee. But I helped Val prepare a baked chicken and vegetable fried rice lunch, which all came home and ate, then the men went back to work. Val played with Jeevin during down times, and he knew all his little books well. Val would read a line and he would say the last word, in his little boy voice. Exciting! He was still shy around me, and for some reason he took to calling me “Leaf.”
That afternoon, Meena and Val grated all that coconut (two bags of de-shelled dry coconut) with their electric grater, and then put it over a burlap sack on top of a plastic barrel and ran water over it, straining the coconut until it ran clear, to collect all the milk. It reminded me of the ladies in Yups straining kari. Of course, I couldn’t help at all. I watched, eating a mango, as they strained two big basins full of grated coconut. Meena let that sit overnight. The next morning, she got all that coconut milk boiling over a fire, until all the coconut parts boiled into grayish little balls, and it separated into the oil. It smelled FABULOUS. And bam – coconut oil, a precious commodity when it comes to cooking and skin and hair care. Lunch was duck curry and dhal puri, a roti like bread with ground split peas inside, and it was delicious. I had no problem going back for seconds, which is a twist, because usually they serve me, and it’s always too much food.
Both delighted in my lost weight, and I teased them, asking how they can make me put on back again by eating all their food. Meena would sporadically update me on things, or ask me things, as we sat in a hammock or rocking chair. She’s a very alert woman, she knows what’s going on in her house at all times. She keeps the house going at all times, too. During training and my visits, she would always be peeling onions, de-heading shrimps she bought from the passing cart that morning, or picking through rice as she limed with her friends who visited her. Meena is always keeps busy; she’s either preparing for the next meal (or a meal for the next day) or cleaning. I can’t remember how she said it exactly, but she said something to effect of “When you are a wife, there’s always things to do, always something to care for; it’s hard.”
Oh, I’ve learned the difficulties of looking after a house during these three years, and I can’t imagine how it will be to look after one for a whole family. (Another subject Meena talked to me about – it’s time to settle down and give my parents grandbabies). It’s only added to my awe and understanding of Meena, Mom, and all other women. It IS hard, but it is obvious Meena has a lot of pride for her efforts. She – and the whole family – have expectations out of their life, and work hard towards them, from selling oil to earn some extra money, to renovating the house they are staying in, to raising their grandson.
There was a Second Sunday happening on the coast; the wedding (Hindu) happened all last weekend, and this is when they cut the cake and have more food and dancing. Val decided to dress me up for it, all in true sister style. It was in Devonshire Castle, a village past Hampton Court, and there was chutney music (Indian music set to modern techno tempos) playing when we came up. Val and I were offered a beer (with a straw to drink it) and we sipped and sat on rocking chairs. Val asked me if I’d want to go all out for my wedding, and I said no, I’d want it to be simple and involve all the family. I asked her if she wished SHE had a big Hindu celebration like this one (her and Vish went to Trinidad and got married there, sorta like Las Vegas style). She said no, it’d too much planning and too much attention on her. Eventually we went to eat, a curry, white rice and dhall, veggie fried rice, some mac and cheese casserole, potato salad, some achar for seasoning on the side and mobey drink. Mobey is a bark that’s turned into a non-alcoholic drink. It has a strong tea taste to it, with not enough sugar, don’t mind it. We were sent home with a sample of the cake – black cake, which is like a chocolate cake with candied fruit pieces in it.
My last night, we watched The Jungle Book 2 again, and Val and Meena gave me clothes. Jeans they said they’d never fit into any more, skirts, shirts. Wow. I really appreciated it. It was comfortable, just liming with them, seeing day to day life on the coast. Life is different there, different to Georgetown and definitely he Rupununi, though there IS a charm to it. I wondered what my service would have been like had I stayed there. What sort of culture would I become well-versed in? Hindu celebrations, Islamic celebrations, eating 7 curry, parsad and mobey drink, the art of mini bus riding, and dancing to soca and chutney? There’s a mild curiosity there, though my heart remains with Amerindian Heritage, eating fish boil and farine, riding motorbikes and dancing forro. Monday I trekked back to Gt on my own, having said goodbye to a truly great family.
No comments:
Post a Comment