Grenada and Carriacou

Grenada and Carriacou

On the first weekend of November, 11 of my classmates and I travelled to Grenada for a fabulous getaway. I know many of you might think that being in Trinidad is like a permanent weekend getaway, but I can assure you it is the furthest thing from anything you might imagine in that sense! Thus, feeling very burnt out from having our lives threatened everyday in Trinidad, we hopped aboard Liat flight 334 from Port of Spain to St. George’s Grenada:

We arrive in Grenada at 9pm local time. Stepping off the plane we expect to face a wall of impermeable and impossibly hot humidity that sticks to you like wet Saran wrap. Much to our delight a gentle gust of warm breeze grazes our tired skin, breathing gentle life to our exhausted spirits, inspiring a second wind. We clear customs quickly and walk outside the airport to establish some bearings. Despite the noticeable stillness and quietness of the soft Grenadian night, we are immediately on guard. The group has a collective sense of mistrust that we extend to all people who appear to be loitering outside the airport, seemingly waiting to take advantage of the walking piggy banks. We stand in a circle with all our baggage in the middle. In typical defensive position that we use when in Trinidad, our backs face the luggage while we watch for signs of danger from all angles. Tension is high.

The hotel transportation arrives for us, and we get inside the taxis. The friendly driver senses our trepidation and guardedness and assures us that we are safe in Grenada and that everything is fine. We should just relax and enjoy ourselves.

Driving along the unlittered, evenly paved road, the melodic chirping of tiny frogs can be heard through the open taxi windows. The frogs are accompanied by the symphonic hum of grasshoppers and the percussive clicking of locusts. The uninterrupted rhythm of the night lulls me into a state of composure –my anxieties lift and I become aware of how much fear and tension I have been carrying around on a daily basis in Trinidad as a necessity of self preservation. Judging by the incredible lightness I now feel, I realize the stress of navigating through the space and place of everyday life in Trinidad.

In an improbable stroke of luck, the Fox Inn proves to be far nicer than the online photos depict. Beautiful, well kept grounds, a deep, clean swimming pool overlooking the beach, friendly staff, fresh rooms, air conditioning! Paradise!

Saturday morning arrives. The air is breezy, and there is still no sign of humidity (very much like Kelowna in the summer). Me, Laura, Tim, and Marla decide to take the ferry to Carriacou (a small island to the North of Grenada). The hotel informed us the night before that the ferry leaves at 9am. Our taxi arrives at 8:30am and tells us that the boat actually leaves at 8:30 on weekends!! He ushers us into the taxi anyways and proceeds to drive like Trinidadian bandits are on his ass, passing cars in the other lane, driving on the curb, flying around hair pin corners like nobody’s business. He frantically phones the fire department (for some reason) to see if the boat is still in the harbour, while honking at oncoming traffic with his “free” hand. Like every multi tasking man, he drives with his knees, navigating the winding mountain roads, risking his life for tourists like he has no other reason to live than to get us to that boat before it leaves. The music is blaring. There is so much adrenaline coursing through my body that I am actually having fun, despite the many pressing barriers to my survival.

He sees the boat sailing in the harbour and swears. Yet, strangely, he begins to drive even faster than before, as if our hastier speed will somehow get us onto the boat. He phones the fire department again. No answer. Finally we pull into the marina, and much to our surprise, the boat is actually still there! We are wind swept and raring to go! The driver is tipped handsomely, and we nimbly hop aboard the dual hulled yacht ready to embark on an exciting day trip!

The time is 8:45am. The 8:30am sailing does not leave the dock until 9:45am. Aha! Caribbean inefficiency does extend to the paradise of Grenada after all!!!!

The Osprey finally pulls away from the dock, its engine roaring to life as it glides out of St. George’s charming bay. European styled buildings crowd the steep hillside while an abandoned British fortress stands at the top of the headland, protecting the lovely town site.

I am sitting on the sundeck of the Osprey. The sky is brilliantly blue and extends seemingly forever to the left, while jagged, rainforest covered mountains pierce the sky to the right. At length we pass the last reach of Grenada and the Osprey is in open sea.

Giant flat bottom clouds punctuate the ostensible infinity of the sky. The sound track is Robert Plant’s Dreamland album. Flocks of flying fish glide for more than 50m on the surface of the sea! They actually flap their fins, I really wasn’t expecting that!

Several hours later, The Osprey reaches Carriacou! It is very small. There are only 7000 people that live on it (about the size of Gabriola Island), and if I had the chance in my life, I would buy a little house on Carriacou! It is just a wonderful place, rugged, beautiful, friendly, not caught up in materialism, yet still very vibrant in its own way. There are packs of wild goats that roam throughout the island like lawn mowing renegades. They dash across the winding roads impishly, and dart into the grassy hills, bleating as their tails twitch awkwardly from side to side. The island is speckled with tiny wooden houses that were at one time painted brightly. The main industry on Carriacou is ship building, a trade that was introduced to the island in the 1700s when a large number of Scottish settlers landed on the white shores. Interestingly, on the far side of Carriacou is a little village called Edinborough; most of the people who live in this area curiously have very fair skin, red hair, and light coloured eyes, yet still have many African features too. It is a surprising combination indeed, and quite curious how the Scottish ancestry remains quite evident in this Patois community even after 300 years.

The marvellous day in Carriacou ends with a flying fish sandwich, an ice cold Carib, and a refreshing swim on the quietest, clearest, calmest beach I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. What a treat! The boat ride home is a time for reflection as the sun begins its descent across the sky and into the watery deep of the horizon. Nightfall comes quickly as the 4 adventurers step ashore to Grenada. The gentle warm breeze grazes our skin, and we find comfort in the insect symphony that narrates our journey back to the Fox Inn.

Hinduism in Trinidad: Temple on the Water and Karya Siddhi Hanuman

The Friday afternoon before I left for a weekend visit to Grenada, the class went on a field trip to two of the most famous Hindu temples in Trinidad: Temple by the Sea (a free floating temple on the ocean), and Karya Siddhi Hanuman (a temple dedicated to the Hindu deity Hanuman the Monkey God).

Hinduism is the leading single religion of the Indo-Caribbean communities of the West Indies. Hindus are particularly well represented in Trinidad and Tobago, where they constituted 25 percent of the total population, as of 1995. Smaller groups of Indo-Caribbeans live elsewhere in the Caribbean, especially Jamaica, Barbados, Martinique and Guadeloupe.

A decade after slavery was abolished in 1834, the British government gave permission for the colonians to import indentured labour from India to work on the plantations. Throughout the remainder of the century, Trinidad's population growth came primarily from East Indian laborers.

First, we visited the Temple by the Sea. Upon arrival, the first thing that I noticed was the calmness to that place. It was very evident, even if I had had my eyes closed that this is a place of palpable spiritual significance. The path to the temple is a stone causeway lined with small shrines and offerings to various deities. The water had an unexpected stillness while dark clouds brewed on the horizon. Traditional Hindu prayer flags stood in the water with poles planted deep into the silty marine floor. The tide climbed up the bamboo poles -the flags look like stoic stationary soldiers of the sea. A Hindu funeral pyre contrasts the watery element of the temple at the base of the stone causeway, linking the physical and spiritual worlds through plumes of dark smoke.

About 20 minutes from the Temple by the Sea is another of Trinidad's great religious structures- The Karya Siddhi Hanuman. The massive intricacy of this Temple alone is breath taking. Most interestingly, the entire sprawling temple is light rose in colour, and is was hand carved by more than 200 stoneworkers. Karya Siddhi is a temple that is dedicatd to Hanuman, the moneky God. Hanuman is the mighty ape that aided Lord Rama in his expedition against evil forces, and is one of the most popular idols in the Hindu pantheon. Believed to be an avatar of Lord Shiva, Hanuman is worshipped as a symbol of physical strength, perseverance and devotion.

Hanuman's tale in the epic Ramayana — wherein he is assigned the responsibility to locate Rama's wife Sita abducted by Ravana, the demon king of Lanka — is known for its astounding ability to inspire and equip a reader with all the ingredients needed to face ordeals and conquer obstructions in the way of the world.

One of the largest Hanuman statues in the world is found at the Karya Temple. It stands more than 85 feet tall. When it was inaugerated in 2003 a water blessing had to be administered by helicopter.

After visiting both temples, the group had a vegetarian lunch of pumpkin rotis and bhagie (butter spinnach), and then we were off to Grenada for a weekend of R & R.

Caroni Swamp and the Scarlet Ibis

Last Thursday, our group travelled to the Caroni Swamp with a very knowledgable guide named Winston Nanan, who now in his 50s was pulled out of school by his father at age 10 to hunt the Scarlet Ibis, never returned to school, yet has taken it upon himself to become the world's leading informally trained orinthinologist specializing in the Scarlet Ibis. The fascinating tour by boat took us through a complex network of estuary canals through thick wetland vegetation.

The Caroni Swamp is the largest mangrove wetland in Trinidad and Tobago. It is located on the west coast of Trinidad, south of Port of Spain and northwest of Chaguanas, where the Caroni River meets the Gulf of Paria.

The Caroni Swamp is an important tourist attraction and provides important habitat for the Scarlet Ibis (Eudocimus ruber), one of the national birds of Trinidad and Tobago.

The Scarlet Ibis is bright red in colour - the feathers being coloured through the synthesis of carotene present in some of their food (Fiddler and Aratus crabs, shrimp, algae and aquatic insects). The black pigment in the primary feathers is thought to give extra strength to the wing tip. Long neck counters long legs for reaching water surface and mud flats. The long legs are useful for wading in marshy ground, mud flats and mangrove stands.

The Scarlet Ibis is long-lived - It can live up to 18 years in captivity. Ibis are considered adults when they are about 2 years old- by this time they have gained their bright red colour. They follow an elaborate courtship and usually pair for life.

To the untrained eye Caroni Swamp looks just fine. Great expanses of open water sparkle in the sunshine; mangroves proliferate; herons, egrets, and ospreys patrol its channels; caiman lurk in the shadows; a new visitor centre, boardwalks, observation post, and a picnic area have sprung up.

Having said that, our guide Winston candidly mentioned to me that the day before we visited the swamp he was touring a group of German bird watchers until a shocking reality shattered the evening roosting routine. As dusk fell, 8 of the ibis they'd come to see were blasted out of the trees by poachers before their eyes, lifeless bundles plopping into the mud, blood invisible on their scarlet feathers. The imagery of Winston's words stung as my eyes fixed upon the mesmerizing red creatures flying home for the night.

The birding enthusiasts on Winston Nanan's boats were horrified. They told Winston they'd make it clear to the Government this was no way to encourage tourism. Some said they'd never return to Trinidad and would discourage people from coming here at all. Others demanded to leave the swamp immediately.

But the public slaughter of the 'protected' ibis is merely the most visible of the many problems facing Caroni Swamp.

Caroni Swamp is in trouble says Nanan. If its present state is a measure of the importance we place on our natural resources and tourism spin-offs then we, too, are in trouble.

For the problems that beset Caroni Swamp are a reflection of what is happening throughout Trinidad and Tobago and throughout the rest of the world for that matter: an ecological mismanagement, misguided priorities, over-stretched resources, pollution, poaching, and public ignorance and indifference.

I cant help but think how these issues are equally prevalent in Canada too. The Caroni Swamp was a remarkable lesson in the fragile beauty of our world's wildlife.