If I really open my mouth...

...what allyuh go say boy?

So many times, on an hourly basis, I am confronted by incidents, things or whatever you want to call them, that make me think thoughts that would not be deemed politically correct. That then leads to my thoughts to the fact that Trinidadians (especially me!) are very politically incorrect.

I will elaborate.

Wait! Before I go there, I just want to say that I love everyone (LIE!) and that I don't mean to offend anyone. Cause I think I will offend many people.

Actually, me eh really cater - it's my blog.

Let me start by talking about how Trinis refer to different races.

Shall we travel to Asia? A region made up of over fifty countries (including Turkey, Bhutan and Kazakhstan). I would say that the two countries that are most associated with Asia, are India and China. If you stop 100 people in the street and ask them to name the first three countries in Asia that come to mind, I assure you India and China would be in most people's top three.

Now surely, that must be the reason why Trinis call all people from countries like Sri Lanka, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh etc - INDIAN. And don't forget that all people from countries like Mongolia, Japan, Thailand, China, Indonesia etc are CHINEE.

And if you fall under one of these two "categories" and you are walking down Brian Lara Promenade and somebody bawl out "Chinee" you WILL turn around!

Here are a few more of the denominations that exist in Trinidad and Tobago:

RED or REDS

This usually refers to someone who is light-skinned and of mixed race. More used towards women, it is also acceptable when referring to men of the same ethnic background. Sayings that use the word "red" or "reds" include:

• If yuh red yuh dead
• The only good red ting is ah dollar
• Ah only like red meat

TALLEST

This is self-explanatory term, as it refers to anyone who is tall. Being 5 ft 11", I know this term very well. The last "T" is actually silent, making the correct prononciation - TAL-LESS

Back to the opening of my blog - "If I really open my mouth, what allyuh go say boy?!?!?!"

Being a Trinidadian has made it easier for my to hone in on my communication skills. In others words, being Trinidadian has allowed me to get in the habit of saying exactly what I feel - when I feel.

Living in the UK for almost six years now, I have received many worried looks from colleagues, passers-by, tube commuters and the general public when they are faced with one of my Trinidadianesque comments.

Let me give you an example.

In the UK, people walk alot. not always in car like us Trinis. So one is privy to varied styles of comfortable footwear, conducive to said walking.

Now on the streets of London and now Bristol., I am confronted with fat people wearing sneakers - or as they say here trainers. So yuh fat; yuh walking; yuh wearing exercise shoe; AND YUH STILL FAT?!?!?! It's like having all the elements in an equation correct but the answer still wrong. And to add insult to injury, their hair and nails usually on! But yuh fat! Can I say anything about it though? When I exchange these ideas with someone of my UK padners - they either look at me as if I am the meanest person they have ever met, or they just chuckle because they agree with me but other than chuckling, won't agree or disagree.

We call fat girls in Trinidad - mampies.

Related terms include:

Mampie-sauraus Rex

Mampieliscious

Now this brings me to elaborate on said walking. In Trinidad, we don't really walk that much. When we in the mall. Maybe Frederick Street or High Street. Usually shopping or an errand makes us walk but other than that we driving or being driven. Right?

So when one is a Trinidadian (as I am) and one is put in a situation that has more walking than he/she is used to, then there must just be calamity, right?

Allyuh, if yuh peoeple does bad-walk me up here? And ah does cuss!!!!!

I know ah leaving allyuh hanging here but I tried type....more tomorrow.

In a timing.

Christmas

So my boy, Daryl, ask me for my raw opinion on Christmas and whether it has lost its meaning. In other words, have we forgot what we celebrating?

Let's me quote a bit of Daryl's opinion first - taken from his Facebook Wall.

Daryl Evelyn

don't get it twisted, thank Aunty Grace I was brought up a catholic, but I am not a religious person, become too realistic, seen too much shit, anyways, all I see every year is decorations, sales, discounts, parties, santas, commercials, all these people singin and dancin, gettin drunk, spending money, giving gifts hoping to get one in return, all that kinda stuff! Maybe I work strange hours but why is it everytime I walk past a church, (and I do that 2 a day everyday) it always empty? Nobody prayin, nobody singin, nobody cryin, nobody gettin heal...

28 November at 10:39

Daryl Evelyn

I went to confirmation class on the promenade, communion, the whole 9! So doh even start! How the hell u could go the whole year without stepping one blasted foot in a church and suddenly is Christmas time and all at once u turn into a saint!! What u know bout Christmas??? Damn hypocrites!

I agree with you 100%.

A great example comes to mind - I asked a few girls in my office if they wanted to go around carolling in Bristol and raise some money for a children's charity in the area. Only one person said she would come.

Why? Because everyone else wants to shop, drink, get presents etc.

But what are we celebrating?

Brought up a Catholic, I know the answer. But I am not going to preach here.

Rather, I am going to say what Christmas means to me.

Now, as Christmas draws near, the first thing that comes to mind is that it is my fourteenth (14th ) Xmas with Sean at my side and my second since we had Clark.

Then I think of our first Xmas together back in 1996 and then I reflect how lucky we are to still be together and to have Clark.

I don't go to church every Sunday but I do thank God for each day as soon as I open my eyes and I have made the odd appearance at Sunday mass.

This Christmas, things will be quiet for me. Not going home to Trinidad. Just moved to a new town where I know not one person other than my colleagues at work. So it will be quiet. Probably won't get any presents other than form Sean, Clark and Tamika.

But I am still excited. Because I have a lot to be thankful for.

And to me that is what Christmas is. A time to be grateful. Grateful for all that we have and the lessons learned.

I have my Xmas party for work on Wednesday. And I have to wear a dress. HATE!

Everyone's going to be there and drunk or coked off of their heads.

As a company, couldn't we have given that money to a children's hospital or something. Waste of time and money, if you ask me.

But Daryl you're right - some people don't believe in the tenets that support the birth of Jesus Christ. And that's okay. But don't pretend.

Don't just go to church for one day.

Makes no sense. Just get drunk and eat yuh belly full. Go round to some friends house. Give and get presents. And enjoy the break from work.

Leave the pews in church for those who really want to go. Not people who are going because they think they should. Don't let the guilt that propelled you to sin throughout the year, make you get up early on Xmas morning and go to church.

Instead put that effort into being a better person or just being true to who you are. If you are happy with who you are and what you have done - no need for guilt. No need for that once a year dip into church searching for some sort of nod from God that he has has you on some waiting list for heaven.

Don't exalt him on one day and forget about him for the other 364.

Either treat him right throughout the year or not at all.

log about the breathalyser that will be in full effect for carnival. The limit is 2 and a half beers. Can u imagine those all inclusive fetes?

Straight form meh pardner Charles.

Ok...are they really going to do a breathalyser in Trinidad? Who they trying to fool?

I remember driving to Maracas once, when home for holidays, and I was sitting in the front seat. Sean was driving. We were both drinking a Stag (YUM!) and we stopped at the lookout (photo above). There was a police car parked there. We never flinched. Sean was driving and drinking a beer.

Policeman came over and asked for one!!!

Now I am completely in favour of cleaning up the driving on the streets and highways of Trinidad and Tobago but the breathalyser will not solve that.

So before we go there, let us first analyse the objective in the breathalyser.

Obviously to be able to identify if a driver is over the legal alcohol limit while driving. And subsequently once caught driver will be:

1. Arrested?

2. Lose driver's permit

3. Points on permit

4. Car impounded - with an exorbitant release fee.

Ok so if it works (IF!!!!!!) they can succeed in taking drunk drivers off our roads and making the roads safer - right?

WRONG!

People in Trinidad drive according to their own laws - DRUNK or SOBER - and that includes me!

Driving down the foreshore after work - heading to Westmoorings. Traffic block up. What do I do? Put on my sport mode and speed through the look out before the fish market and hope I get a spot in the line without being caught by the police!

Did I break the speed limit? YES.

Did I break other traffic laws? YES.

Did I care? NO.

Did I do it again? TIRED!

Charles, yuh topic riling me up now! And the all-inclusive fetes - so we going to pay $1000TTD to go a fete and can only drink three beers.

So all-inclusive fetes will have to start being about food only then. And then what - we all get fat and can't wear no bikini when we go 'Bago or DDI?

Steups steups and more steups!!!!

So the real question then is - can the government really put measures in place to clean up the driving on the streets of Trinidad and Tobago?

Well the answer is. And it has to include drastic measures. Measures that wil affect some major stakeholders in Trinidad.

So let's talk about the drag racing boys. Boys with turbo and Nitrous on their car. Sean was one of them and many of his friends still are. Mind you, these guys are some of the best drivers on the planet. So it's not their fault. It's the man from Chaguanas who have air filter in his NIssan B-13, who cetch a Evo by the lighthouse and feel he could take him. That is the man who we have to worry about.

Or the 17 year old leaving licensing office with his freshly laminated (and paid under the table for!) drivers license. This kid is going home to a brand new Subaru and he can barely parallel park.

He is who we have to worry about. When he get on the road, he wants to prove that he is man.

So therefore is it the alcohol that we need to eradicate or the stupidity.

Now I don't drink that much and when I was home, I hardly got drunk and drove. Stoned yes. Drunk no.

I got in a terrible accident on Carnival Friday in 2000. Driving down South. Why? Because I was using my cellphone and not looking at the road. Not a drop of alcohol in my system but I was clearly charged up on stupidity.

Now looking up some news articles on this and I have realised that Colm IMbert is behind this. What an ass! No wonder this is so stupid...it's come from someone with high levels of stupidity.

OK. Leh we see what dey saying...

Banter between Piggot and Imbert. Usual crap. MP want to do something but no resources to do it. My favourite quote from an article I just read from today's (online) Guardian, written by Alicia LLanos is:

"He said the ministry had placed an order for the acquisition of the first set of the devices, which were scheduled to arrive on December 15 in time for the Christmas season."

The first set of devices?!?!?!?! You know they are sending five to POS, two to San Do and the other five on a needs-only basis.

Trinidad yes. The land of guaranteed laughter.

So the limit is two and a half beers. What about scotch and coconut? How much ah dat ah could have?

Aye aye! The Act has a name. The Motor Vehicle and Road Traffic Amendment Act.

And in today's Trinidad Express, Julian Neeves writes:

"Acting Commissioner of Police James Philbert told the Committee training was done before and there was an opportunity now for public education and further training. He advised that the public should start adjusting their drinking behaviours so they are not embarrassed or inconvenienced when officers begin breathalyser testing."

HAHAHA!!!!! In other words, don't drink and drive or else you will be embarrassed.

What about don't drink and drive because you might die?

Trinidad yes.

That's all on that for now.

In a timing.

Saturday...my favourite day

A lot of people say TGIF - thank God it's Friday. A restaurant chain also exists with the same name to help us welcome the weekend with food and booze.

But why Friday? What's so good about Friday?

I still have to work on a Friday. I still have to get up early and go to the office and work for the entire day.

What's so good about that?

Now Saturday. That's a day right there.

No work. No getting up early.

And the next day isn't work either. That's why I don't like Sundays. Because the day after, I have to go to work. And I spend half of my day thinking "Wow the weekend is over" or "I cannot believe tomorrow is Monday!"

So really and truly, the weekend is only Saturday.

Friday is spend working and winding down from work and Sunday is spent wishing that tomorrow wasn't work and preparing for said calamity.

Saturday.

According to the ever-reliable source, Wikipedia, Saturday was named no later than the second century for the planet (Saturn)^{[citation needed]}, which controlled the first hour of that day according to Vettius Valens. The planet was named for the Roman god of agriculture Saturn. It has been called dies Saturni ("Saturn's Day"), through which form it entered into Old English asSæternesdæg and gradually evolved into the word "Saturday".

Saturday is the only day of the week in which the English name comes from Roman mythology. The English names of all of the other days of the week come from Germanic polytheism. In India, Saturday is Shanivar, based on Shani, the Vedic God manifested in the planet Saturn. In the Thai solar calendar of Thailand, the day is named from the Pali word for Saturn, and the color associated with Saturday is purple. The Celtic languages also name this day for Saturn: Irish an Satharn or dia Sathuirn, Scottish Gaelic Disathairne, Welsh dydd Sadwrn, Breton Sadorn or disadorn.

So a lot of Saturday-Saturn association. Let's see what Saturn has to say...

In true fashion of today's mantra - take every opportunity to monetise everything, the first search item was Saturn the car manufacturer.

I wonder if Saturn only opens on a Saturday.

Oh! Saturn is the sixth planet as is Saturday the sixth day of the week. Stevie Wonder sang a song called Saturn - wonder if he wrote that on a Saturday.

OK...so we learnt something.

So my Satruday is filled with the things I like to do. Sleep is number one. Sleeping on a Saturday. Maybe I should write a song.

Sleeping on a Satruday

by Michelle Eng Leang

The sun rises

But I don't

The day wakes up

But I won't

Because I am sleeping on a Saturday

LOL!!!!!

OK so I just updated my status to see what topics ppl suggest I write about today...let's see shall we.

In a timing.

I looooooooove your accent

Sometimes I feel like a circus horse. Folks in the UK love my accent. If I call O2 to see about my mobile service, the customer service guy (who is not too good at his job), random people in queues with me, people at work - let's just day a lot of people.

Apart from my discomfort at times in feeling like a youtube video that people are having a mid-am chuckle at, is my disdain that when said folks try attemp my accent - the most used salutation is "What Ah gwan?"

Now I have a lot of friends from JA but I do not hail from there.

So here is my question? If you are so interested in my accent and love trying to copy it (which is quite amusing), then ask me about it first. What makes the Trini twang different.

However, that doesn't happen. Instead, people use Jamaican phrases to talk along with me and my Trinidadian accent and it gets me annoyed which brings out more of my Trini talk and makes them laugh more.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Quite proud of myself that I have managed to hit my blog a few times this week.

Sign of the times.

The writing arm of the Eng is back.

And you want to know something? I feel back. I feel like I am going through renaissance - after a few words.

So many things I want to talk about. Like what you ask?

Rape

Cocaine use - they use it a lot over here!

Pedestrian laws - more importantly the creation of!

Being in a 14 year relationship and happy!

Sex

Sex

Sex

Friendship

I sounding like the prphet in Gibran - one of my favourite books btw.

This is it for now for my Friday ramble. Wait! It's Saturday already!

Oh! Guess what? It is 33 minutes after midnight and Clark is still up, jumping in his crib watching Mickey Mouse.

Mad like he mudda!

In a timing.

The best way to ignore someone...

..is to eat cereal.

Actually, the best way to just block the world out is to shut your eyes and just eat dry cereal. My recommendation is Honey Nut Cheerios.

So just crunch away and soon you will realise that all the sounds of life drift away and all you can hear is the rhythmic sound of your chewing.

You ever flet that you wanted everyone to just go away. Complete peace.

Hard when you are a full-time sales woman, mother and wife. Someone always talking to me at some point in the day.

I no longer feel lonely. When I am by myself, I just enjoy it.

Even when I go for a massage at the Relaxation Centre in Bristol - my one-hour long deep tissue massage is great until Taza asks me if it's okay.

Okay? Of course its okay! I would have said otherwise...now just shut up and rub meh back!

That brings me to that common question Trinis tend to ask someone that they have just called...."Yuh home?"

If I wasnt home, I wouldn't have answered.

But then again, with technology, you can forward your calls from your landline to your mobile...so really, someone can call you on your home number and you not be home.

Interesting.

Talking about interesting - did you know that the dot on top of the lower case letter "i" is called a tittle?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tittle

And how about lower case letter "j"s have tittles too!

Letter j and letter i - the Tittle Crew...or the tittle twins...fraternal obviously.

So I am blabbing....what's new. At least I am writing.

I just got an email dey. Some newsletter or other.

When last did you get a letter in the post from someone? A personal one.

Long time ent?

Well let me go back and lie down. I not too well today. Didn't got to work.

We go pick up in ah timing.

And a few months later...

Sean is so talented. Graphic Designer. Screen Printer. DJ. Super DIY man. Father. Husband. Friend. He has so many strings to his bow. Over the last few months I have been feeling that I don't have a talent nor hobby. I have been looking for things. Analysing the things I like to do. Nothing sticks though.

Most people think of my talent as writing. But to me, it is just something that people tell me I can do well. But can I? Ok I know I can.

So then it hit me. MY writing is not a talent. It is a gift from the Grand Master of all Plans. And I am wasting it.

So here I am trying this again.

Going to write a new entry every day. About what you ask?

I will try to keep it as true to my style of conversation as ever. Random. Crazy. Inappropriate.

You know me...I say what some are afraid to say.

I might offend some or even piss some off...but that's what a 'column" is right?

The world of blogging is such that you do'nt need an illustrious newspaper to commission and publish your column. Although, if I tried I am sure I could get into a newspaper somewhow.

This is good enough.

So stay tuned to the Blog of the Eng - my opinion on all things that I do or see or eat or feel.

And don't forget that I doh really cater so my blog might just be about you!!!!

Time...my rarest commodity

I first work my blog's introduction about three weeks ago. And I only just published it. At the time I wrote it, I was on lunch in the office and decided that every day I was going to write an entry. Ha! Three weeks later, here I am. Only just publishing that first bit and finally sitting down to write another.

Clark will be seven months on April 2nd and April 4th marks thirteen years since Sean and I got together. Clark is crawling and standing - ready to face the world and all it's offerings new. Sean and I are settling, so much behind us now and yet we still make each other giggle like it was 1996.

The one thing that has seemed to abondon me is time.

Sean told me the other day that since Clark was born, we've been like swining doors. Passing each other with swift yet meaningful pecks on the lips as we exchange shifts.

Having a baby is hard work but one of the most rewarding jobs I have ever done. And amid the early morning feeds and the losing count on the scoops of formula in the bottle, I know that my loss of time is really loss of time for myself. Loss of time for Sean and I to be us.

And stopping there, it sounds quite tragic. But it doesn't stop there. It has only begun with Clark.

On Friday, I pick up the night shift, so Sean can attempt to catch up on all the sleep he lost during the week and recover from Clark's kicks in his ribs during his slumber.

Between each feed, as Clark, my son, spoons with me, I think - how lucky I am.

Wait. This sounds mushy. Where is the meaning? Where is the point?

The point is - check me out. A mother! With someone who depends on me for everything. Strange because I can barely depend on myself.

And time. I had so much of it before. Just to just spend all Saturday in bed - reading magazines, emerging to grab a quick Starbucks before they closed at 6.30pm. A bit of laundry on Sunday and a short shopping trip. Another Starbucks or two and then the week of work began again.

I watched television after work. Surfed the internet. Had long conversations with friends and with my best friend, Sean.

I miss all of that.

But, it has no been replaced with giggles. With a little monster climbing over me as we romp in bed. Knowing that as Clark and I play, Sean sleeps or enjoys some "me" time.

I hear a lot of parents - new parents especially, complain that they have no time for themselves. No time for girly drinks and loud boys nights.

The same applies to me - not that that stuff occupied my time that much anyway. But time was mine.

Now it may seem as if it is not. I work - to take care of my family and I get home to take care of my family.

Me? I eat. I bathe. I sleep.

May seem imbalanced to some - but I like it.

I like that I have had enough of me to last me a lifetime. That I just want more of Clark and through him, I get more of Sean.

Sean and I had our time, being us. Now we have our time being parents. And that's the new way for us to be us.

The inspiration for this Blog

So here I am. A few weeks away from my 32nd birthday. And my life is quite different to what I thought it would. My plans, my dreams - just not there. At 18, I had my heart broken (or so it seemed then!) just as I was preparing to write A levels.

I was filled with a fire then to conquer the world. To complete my A levels successfully and away with me to University where my love of books and writing would culminate in some illustrious piece of paper being framed on my wall - followed by an equally illustrious career. No kids. No husband. Just me, my freedom and a whole lot of shoes.

I used to say back then that I wanted to be a millionaire by the time I was 30 and that my first book would be published at least a year before then. I also used ot say that I NEVER wanted kids.

So that is the inspiration for my blob. That sometimes when end up on the opposite end of life yet happier.

I dedicate this blob to my loving husband of 8 years, Sean and my son, Clark Jude Farrell, who have both showed me that life is love and without them - mine would be empty.