Alexander, Crosby, "Pirate", Isaac, "Chunkie" & Emmanuel
3000 New Friends — that's 1500 per hour!
May
5, 2002: Speyside, Tobago is not a thriving metropolis;
the population of about 3000 gets by on fishing, Tourism (SCUBA diving
and birdwatchers), "this and that". We did very little
today, save for the hour-long ride across Tobago (about 26 miles),
and moving into to our lovely bungalow (left). But we did go for
a walk (in search of groceries) down the main street. Come to think
of it, it may be the only street in Speyside. There we met
several of Speyside's residents: all colorful in different ways.
Blue Waters is in a valley with Bateaux Bay, so we climbed the significant hill to "escape" and descended on to Main which runs along the shoreline through the town. It was striking how genuinely friendly nearly everyone was. The first person that greeted us was a shopkeeper/restaurateur with a big smile: "How can I help you?"
It wasn't the "I smell money" greeting we've seen so many places, where it's clear from the start that friendship is not to be, and friendliness ends after you leave the shop. This seemed genuine, more so as we encountered person after person, walking through the town.
"Black
Pirate" was the 2nd person. He was quite adamant that that was
his real name, but we're still not convinced. A tall, very dark-skinned
man perhaps in his late-30s, his hands were white from concrete spall
and his face a bit weary from what looks to have been a hard life.
Like most everyone today, he asked us where we were from (and how long
we'd been the island, where we were staying...). We say "Boston",
they say "ah, Massachusetts". He'd been through Boston; spent
a winter in Vermont. We've encountered scammers who had just enough
details to convince us of their genuine-ness ("Confidence Men"),
but it was clear he'd actually been to these places. We talked for
a while. He's rehabbing an old craft shop to make it a restaurant/bar
(strangely, though, the guide book describes a place with the same
name that was a restaurant/bar). We talk for a while, just there
in the street. He beckons us return on our way back from the walk: "We'll
share some mangos, they're in season now" (we didn't). "Taste
my cherry wine" (we did). "If you bring the food sometime,
I will cook it and we will eat together". "I only cook fish".
Kathy agrees in principle.
The next encounter was Isaac. Another big smile, he says "Hello, I am Isaac. first ting, you on di wrong side of di road". True, we're walking along the right side of the road, correct to oppose the traffic when they're driving on the other side, (British style) but with narrow, windy roads, you need to be on the other side where you can better be seen. We cross the road and talk with Isaac for a while. Isaac's offering fruit wines for sale "that his grandmother made". It's a bit suspicious: he can offer about any kind of fruit we want. Later, we learn why. We move on; Isaac hopes for a sale when we return from our walk.
There isn't a lot of excitement in Speyside for the locals, but there is a football (soccer) field which doubles as a cricket "stadium". Speyside has a cricket team; maybe we'll catch a match sometime. The field seems to be a gathering place for locals and this is where we met Crosby and "Chunkie". Crosby is a little flaky, seems coherent but he repeats everything exactly three times. Chunkie could be his father; he's charming in some vague way, but even less "with it". They ask the usual questions, but unlike the others, haven't offered to sell us anything, be our Guide, etc.
Soon enough we run of out Speyside, as the road turns upward, away from the shore and toward the mountains. Alexander is near the end. A short, thin but muscular man, he ekes out a living paving roads, doing general labor — and he guides tourists through the rain forest when he has the chance. We talk about American and Canada, he speaks as though he's visited (he has family in the US) but when Kathy asks more pointedly he clarifies that he thinks this place or that is as he describes, not that he's actually been there. This kind of "travel" is far less expensive and eminently practical, for a Laborer in Speyside.
We reverse course, knowing that we'll encounter each of these characters and more on the return trip. Then we encounter a new one — Emmanuel. Emmanuel is tall, taller because his hair is packed up under a hat. He's aRastafarian. He also seems to be a drunk. Emmanuel is carrying a box, with mangos he probably found somewhere along the way, and "special coconut oil". Special indeed.
His mangos are sort of puny, questionably ripe (they're green, so we think not, but we also know from our Thai mango "training" that there are in fact mangos that stay green but are ripe). Emmanuel is a charismatic drunk ("I only need enough to buy beer") and has gotten to the portion of his sales pitch where it's not "do you want" but "how many will you be taking". We cede to his charms (we're pushovers for mangos). Then he launches into the "special coconut oil" shtick. He has a bottle of dark brown oil (coconut oil is opalescent) and pours some on my hand. It's thick and greasy, with no odor of coconut at all. I (Scott) think it is used cooking oil, the detective job for my nose is only to figure out what's been fried in it. This kind of sours me on Emmanuel. We offer up TT$5 (about 90c) for 3 mangoes, and escape from Emmanuel.
Continuing back, Crosby and Chunkie are still at the ball fields; Alexander has joined them. More hellos and more smiles. We go on to Pirate's rehab job.
(Kati
Parties Wid di Pirate)
We find him plastering and walk over to him. He puts down
his trowel and shows us into the shack he's working on. It's small
and crowded with tools and construction debris — and two bottles of
wine (which he would like to sell us, but he's not a all aggressive
about it). We take "the tour" up to the 2nd floor on the
staircase that's sturdy but features treads of only about 4" wide
— we go up sideways. Upstairs (the future restaurant site) has a great
view of the ocean — and Pirate's sleeping quarters. Back on the 1st
floor, we try the wines. The first is (allegedly) cherry, but has little
color and is sweet but doesn't have a cherry flavor. The second is "sea
grape": made from a tree that looks like a cross between a grape
vine and a magnolia and has grape-shaped fruits in large clusters hanging
from it. This wine is quite potent — but not especially tasty. Pirate
happens to mention that Isaac sometimes sells his fruit wine to tourists
(so much for the grandmother).
In subsequent visits (Pirate's shack is in the middle of town, you can't get far without going by it), we form the impression that Pirate's living pretty much hand to mouth; he really wanted some money from selling his wine to us. The invitation for him to cook for us may have been altruistic, but it may be that he can't afford decent food. Probably somewhere in between. When we clean our frig' from Blue Waters, Kathy decides we'll drop off a care-package with Pirate. Some red wine, cereal stuff... two filet mignons. Pirate probably doesn't see many of those...