In fall 2019, I applied for a Fulbright fellowship to do research in the twin island state of Trinidad and Tobago (topic: “Caribbean engagement with global gender equality frameworks”; more on this in a different writing). The idea was to carry out this research (and do some teaching) in fall 2020. Of course, the pandemic changed everything, including my Fulbright plans. My host institution here, the Institute for Gender and Development Studies at the University of the West Indies St. Augustine first advised to postpone to fall 2021; and then, to fall 2022. There were many complications: Fall 2022 was too late according to Fulbright rules; earlier dates seemed unsafe to the host; and in about July 2021, I decided that for me, the latest date would be Spring 2022 (considering several things I had to juggle in my life, mixed with constantly adjusting assessments of pandemic development). In fall 2021, my host became a bit more open to a possible stay in Spring, even if university life would still be remote and hence, there would be less for me to experience. At some point in the process, I had made peace with the possibility that I would not be able to go at all. When I got the green light in early November 2021, I was beyond excited and finally could start planning!
I arrived in Trinidad on January 18, 2022. I had secured a plane ticket and a place to stay in one of the university residence halls in December; shortly before Christmas, our entire family got Covid, luckily in a mild form due to being fully vaccinated and boostered. During those “Covid days” (in which we isolated as a family), I first imagined that my trip might now again not be possible; and then I realized that I would have recovered and be non-infections long enough before my travel date. I also felt good and was confident I could travel. I got my negative test before my flight, applied for and got the Trinipass (online procedure to request entry into the country) and got ready in every other way. What also helped me believe I was really going was a visit from our neighbors who are Trinidadians. They supplied me with phone numbers of their relatives and reiterated that I needed to be careful (every person I have talked to since I arrived has reinforced this message).
The flight is a short one from Miami – less than three hours – and the first stretch is over the Bahamas. What a view! So many islands, many of them magically shaped, and turquoise and deep blue waters around them. And then, the first sight of Trinidad: a coastline with steep mountains, covered in forests – the northern mountain range, as my driver later told me. Toward the South the island gets flatter.
I don’t know about you, but “the firsts” in a new experience (like visiting a new country) are really important in shaping later impressions and experiences. The first view: this lush, mountainous landscape; then the buildings and roads from above. The last time I flew into a Caribbean country was Cuba – big difference between what I saw there and flying into Trinidad. Not only that the Trinis drive on the left (remnant of British rule, more on that another time), but the buildings are in much better shape, and there are lots of cars on the road (traffic is a big issue here).
The airport in Port of Spain (why Port of Spain? More on this in a history post later) was relatively small, well organized, and a bit greyer than I would have expected from a Caribbean country (memories from Jose Marti international airport in Cuba: a lot of strong reds). We had to get into lines to show our vaccination records and Trini pass, got our hands sanitized and then went through immigration. All of this was swift, efficient, and very polite (here, my comparison is to US immigration, which was often, before I became a citizen, uncomfortable because one was treated as a potential threat).
I was offered taxi rides by many people, but I had made prior arrangements through the manager of my residence hall who had given me the contact of a “trusted driver”. Security, being safe, never getting into a taxi “whose driver you don’t know” (who knows a taxi driver beforehand?) are a big deal here. EVERYBODY I talk to reiterates this: while Trinbagonians are very friendly and open people, you have to be extremely vigilant and never create any opportunity for robbery or other crimes. As one is easily identifiable as a tourist (as a white woman, I certainly am), one is an easy target. Always be aware of your surroundings; don’t tell anybody where you live; NEVER walk alone at night (I think that is the most repeated sentence I have heard since arriving here); do not wear jewelry – well, I am safe on that last one at least.
view from my window
I arrived at the Sir Arthur Lewis residence hall in the afternoon, received by a friendly-relaxed employee who showed me my apartment. Within the hall, this was the most luxurious accommodation with private bath and kitchen, separate bedroom and all air-conditioned. Honestly, it felt great to have a place on my own so shortly after arriving in this new country; a place that I knew I would inhabit for a long time and make my home away from home. The residence is made for about 400 students, but due to Covid and the fact that classes are held remotely, there are barely 40 people in the building. So it’s really empty, but at least I won’t be bothered by neighbors who play loud music. By now, I have met some of the other residents, including two other Fulbrighters who are really nice people.
There are security guards here around the clock and the compounds are fenced in and barbed-wired. One can enter and leave the hall through one gate only and everybody has to sign in/ out. This helps to know the whereabouts of the residents – another important security measure (always let somebody know where you are). However, on this very first evening, I wanted to get out and withdraw money from a nearby bank and buy some dinner. Dexter, the employee who had received me, advised STRONGLY against it, because – it was already dark. He suggested to order some food from KFC; I asked if there were other places I could order from, perhaps with more tasty/ local food, but he said they were all closing early due to the pandemic. All of this, plus the fact that it was raining led to me calling KFC and ordering my first ever KFC meal. Which was also my very first meal in Trinidad. I don’t know how this transaction was successful because I hardly understood the person on the phone. The English here is hard for me to understand, especially on the phone, and I was not sure if I was understood.
Other “firsts”: My first stroll in the neighborhood – the next morning, when it was light out, I dared to walk alone to explore a bit. There is a bank just down the road – I arrived safely, even if the sidewalks are sometimes very narrow, or not existing at all, and the driving style is very “sportive” – driving on the left side is one thing I have to get used to, but people also drive where it is most convenient, for example to avoid potholes, and the acceptable distance to pedestrians is MUCH narrower than in the US. I also discovered a fruit and veggie market and found the interaction with the vendors very friendly and the produce in good shape and very affordable. Things are typically cheaper here than in the US, but I have to get used to the currency to grasp the real price charged (1 US$ = 7 TT$). I realize that I love these simple things – exploring a neighborhood, walking to a market, talking to market vendors; and I have not done them much since we live in Miami because there is very little communal structure there.
My first grocery shopping at a supermarket! The residence hall provides a shuttle every Friday which is great and allows me to buy more bulky things. I found products that I know from US supermarkets (typically more expensive), but also many domestic ones and from neighboring countries like Jamaica or Colombia. The import-export situation is very interesting (more on that another time).
My first taxi ride – ok, this was special in two ways: the destination was St. Benedictine Abby, a monastery which is up the hill from where we live, on the same road. I can see it from my window, and it is beautiful. Look it up (http://www.mountstbenedictabbey.org/ )! It was peaceful and wonderful up there, and I could see half of the island, almost. Also, THIS taxi ride was deemed safe by the residence hall employee I talked to (even if I did not know the driver), perhaps because the taxis have a specific spot from where they transport people ONLY to this spiritual site.
My first outing – my neighbors’ relatives picked me up and showed me around. That was the first time, apart from my ride up to the Abby, that I went anywhere beyond my pedestrian radius. They were so nice to drive me to Port of Spain (my residence is east of the capital) and we went along the Western main road all the way to Chaguaramas (west of Port of Spain), where there is a boardwalk which was, however, closed because beaches are only open until 2 pm due to the pandemic. In general, the pandemic-related rules here are SO much stricter than in the US. People are legally obliged to wear masks when in public, and I have been surprised to see people masked up even when they walk alone outside. We had dinner at Movie towne which is an open-air space with a movie theatre and many restaurants and shops. Unfortunately, many of those places are closed now, probably permanently. However, I had my first Trini beers: one is called Carib, the other Stag. Stag is also called “a man’s beer”, but both are made by the same company and pretty much taste the same (my first engagement with gender roles here … always on the lookout 😊).
Also, I had my first doubles (most important Trini food, as far as I can tell; there are many other special dishes, but more on food another time).
And let me close with this: when I talked for the first time (over zoom) with my host, a wonderful Trinidadian gender studies scholar, and we touched on getting used to the culture and understanding how things are done here, I found out that people might have stereotypical assumptions about me that I had in all honesty NOT expected: especially in Tobago – NOT in Trinidad, she assured me – they might think of me as a sex tourist, aka a white, comparatively wealthy, middle aged woman with a foreign accent “who wants to have a good time with the beach boys” (inevitably, more on that topic in a later post; also on the different culture of Tobago).
I hope you enjoyed this post! Many more to come.
The common sense feminist 