HiHi My Name's Tish

GOT MY PASSPORT RENEWED!

I remember writing about the potential of my older passport when I first got it. Here’s what I’ve done with it. 

Got a student visa to go to school in Rochester, NY for 4 years! 

Canadian Visa to visit Montreal 

Studied Abroad in Italy 

And visited Tom in England 

Layovers in Germany and Austria

Lived in LA

Lived in The Bay, SF.

Visited Chicago and fell in love. 

Got caught in the only thunderstorm of Summer 2015 in Florence that started its initial degradation and made flight attendants weary whenever I tried to check in to flights. 

Lost it in several parking lotts and found it upon returning to the car. 

Spilt a lot of cocktails on it. 

Slam it on the counter whenever people asked me where I was from. 

When I was little I barely remembered Trinidad. I do however remember Houston a lot more. I remember grilled cheese on Wednesdays in kindergarten and that it was my favorite day because of it. I remember everyone’s parents taking turns making cookies once a week for snack time. And Oreos and milk before chess club. And at home, I would eat Trini food, but there was no difference to me. Food was food.

We lived in the energy sector of Houston, Westella. Which meant lots of international families. And over time, family and friends from Trini would come visit us for a meal or stay for days at a time. And in those times I remember everyone always being in or around the kitchen. I always assumed it was where adults preferred to be. They were happy and laughing in there.

It wasn’t until I moved back to Trinidad did I realise why.

Trini food was about socialising. Every meal made was always meant to be shared. And it wasn’t so much about eating the food as what went into it. Everyone brought an ingredient of sorts and took to their ‘stations’. Children would peel and prepare vegetables. Aunties and grandmas would crowd around a huge pot and criticize the cooking technique and flavor as some Trini foods were difficult to prepare. While uncles and grandpas would lounge around and talk.

Personally, food was getting up at 6am on a Saturday to go to the markets with dad. Food was a Sunday drive to Las Cuevas Beach Fish Market for the daily catch with the family. It was helping mom make dad’s favorite when he returned from a trip abroad. Climbing 3 story trees as tests of courage amongst cousins for plums, mangoes and pommerach while trying to avoid hornets’ nests. And cooking enough for 12 people on a Sunday even though we were a 4 person family because we knew people would drop in throughout the day.

This food was what we had to comfort us when we were oceans away from home. Where we had to teach ourselves to cook enough for us and only us, because no one was dropping by to share it with. It’s what dad was forced to learn after mom left because he had 2 kids who didn’t know where they belonged in the world. And what we snuck through immigration if we ever visited Trini.

Me: What's the most important word to Italians.

Cab Driver: Amor.

Me: Why?

I haven’t updated this guy in a long time. Not for lack of things to talk about, but because life got really condensed really quickly. I’ll try to keep this alive again because it made me excited to chronicle things I found.