An introvert’s approach to travel

Toco, Trinidadwww.hotfoottrini.com

A lot of people think they know me but don’t really know me at all.

People think that because I’m Trinidadian that I must be an extrovert. Firstly, they assume I’m loud.

Not loud or even Loud.

L O U D.

Bubbling with scandalous kya kya kya laughter.

Secondly, they think I must be easy-going, like a coconut tree on a breezy beach.

Thirdly, they think I must be a big time limer (party animal) because Trinidad and Tobago is the home of Kya-nee-val (Carnival, to the more refined folks out there) and that I’m comfortable with friends, acquaintances, and strangers wining on meh bumsee (gyrating on my butt) in public.

Sorry folks, I am none of the above.

I’m one of a rare breed: the introverted Trini who grew up in an extroverted Trini culture. I hate sweaty crowds so you’ll never find me in a fete or chipping dong de road on Carnival Monday and Tuesday. Even though I may seem talkative at a party, the day after, all I really want to do is go to the most deserted beach possible with my husband. No cooldown lime at Maracas Beach for me, thank you very much.

According to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI), a pretty well-known personality test, I’m an INTJ (Introverted, Intuitive, Thinking, Judging). INTJs are bookworms by nature. They think strategically and move through life as though they’re playing chess. Sore points: they don’t like small talk and hate the spotlight. Also, they can also come across as insensitive because they don’t allow their feelings to sway how they relate to people.

If you read a lot of travel blogs, there is a prevailing paradigm that travelers have to be super-extroverted and open to anything in order to maximize the travel experience. Travel bloggers, Two Drifters, have challenged this notion and applied MBTI to travelers. They write (tongue in cheek) about sixteen travel personality types.  That’s right: sixteen. And guess what? Not every traveler’s an extrovert.

Under their system, I  could be classified as an INTJ traveler. Here’s what Two Drifters have to say about the INTJ traveler:

The INTJ loves to create ideas and possibilities and then capitalize them. Not content with daydreaming, INTJs know how to turn their goals into reality, and they proceed with ambition and strategy. The INTJ is highly intelligent and insightful. This type works hard to understand everything they encounter, with keen observation and an interest in understanding inner workings and patterns. The INTJ travel personality is likely to be found exploring foreign cultures with depth and passion, moving past “touristy” distractions and seeking authentic immersion.

Spot on.

As an INTJ traveler, I like to quietly observe a place and its people. To do this takes time. I have had my most rewarding travel experiences when I have spent a long time in a country. Long enough to immerse myself and peer under the glittery, touristy surface.

As a student in London, nothing made me happier than walking along the Thames or exploring the city’s dusty churches and cobbled alleys. I would spend hours on my feet, sometimes missing meals because I loved to explore the city alone. I saw a side of London few tourists ever see: a money-grubbing city, a city swollen with cultural diversity, a historical city sometimes struggling to stay relevant in the 21st century.

Introverted travelers also tend to see a country from a different perspective. Unlike many other millenial travelers, my Instagram feed shows what the place actually looks like. You will never find a picture of me in a bikini on a boat over crystal-clear water looking dreamily in the distance while clutching my partner’s hands.

I like to travel (or specifically, live in a foreign place for an extended period of time) because it challenges my natural INTJ qualities. It forces me to stretch beyond my comfort zone. For example, when I’m abroad, I rarely pass up chances to have a genuine conversation with locals. Not questions about what I would like to buy or why I love their country but stuff that transcends the usual tourist/local spiel.

When I spent some time in Japan teaching English, I had a few opportunities to make real connections with strangers. Once, I was buying lunch in a busy bakery and there was only one seat left. A distinguished-looking older woman removed her jacket and motioned that the seat was available.

I was crunching down on a pastry when she just started talking to me. In English. I thought, “Oh well, here’s another Japanese person trying to practice her English with a foreigner.” Imagine my surprise when the conversation took many turns and corners and we ended up talking about waka poetry written about her hometown in Wakayama! If I had just sat there quietly, I would not have discovered a fellow poetry lover in a perfect stranger.

If you’re an introverted traveler, you’re not weird. Celebrate your difference and share how you see the world.

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An introvert's approach to travel

 

 

What it’s really like to live in Japan

Kyoto, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com

In 2004, I traveled “around the world.”

Literally.

At the time, zipping through six countries in three months seemed incredible. I (obnoxiously) emailed everyone I knew to let them know how amazing it was. I could think of nothing better than tramping across oceans and continents to experience alien foods, languages, and cultural practices. After that trip, I was hooked. What followed was an insatiable desire to see more, do more, experience more.

In retrospect, I realize that my perspective on travel abroad was severely myopic. I only saw the glittering surfaces of the countries I visited. I experienced the best tourist attractions each country could offer, something even the locals could not afford to do.

Working in Japan, however, shifted my perspective entirely.  After a few months’ living there, I got over the initial awe I felt when I had seen my first orange torii gate. Eating Japanese food with disposable chopsticks became routine. After all, you could even get it in the konbini! I began to see Japan for what it was really like. A regular country with regular people doing regular things like going to school, going to work, going to the supermarket, getting sick, relaxing on weekends. I started to bow like everyone else and say strange things like “douzo” “onegai shimasu” “hai” and “daijobou.” I covered my mouth when I laughed and chewed my lunch. I never, ever ate while walking (something I do frequently in Trinidad and Tobago). Slipping in and out of inside shoes was no longer a hassle. I didn’t bat an eyelid when I saw folks eating cake with chopsticks. Seeing people on public transport and classrooms with their faces half-shrouded in white gauze masks didn’t send me into a panic attack.

Trinidadian writer, Sam Selvon, writes in his novel, An Island is a World:

 “People are the same all over the world…It does not matter where you are, you encounter sadness, happiness, love, hate. An island is a world, and everywhere that people live, they create their own worlds.”

Ain’t that the truth?

Travel writer Pico Iyer talks about the art of traveling within instead of traveling without. He says:

“…One of the first things you learn when you travel is that nowhere is magical unless you can bring the right eyes to it. You take an angry man to the Himalayas; he just starts complaining about the food. And I found that the best way that I could develop more attentive and more appreciative eyes was oddly, by going nowhere, just by sitting still. And of course sitting still is how many of us get what we crave and need in our accelerated lives, a break. But it was also the only way that I could find to sift through the slideshow of my experience and make sense of the future and the past.”

So I learned to appreciate the pinpricks of incongruity in my days. Those moments when I felt transient, rootless, ephemeral. Like when students, parents, and teachers called me sensei. Sitting still allowed me to really observe and imbibe Japan, the Japan that doesn’t exist on glossy tourist websites and swish Instagram pics. The Japan with real problems: workaholism, alcoholism, kids with severe behavioral problems, frustrated folks, neglected old people. It is only when we settle down in a corner and think about our experiences that we can truly appreciate them. It is only in the stillness that we achieve those rare moments of clarity. It is only when we slow down that we know where we have been and where we are going next.

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Bucket list Japan: see the peonies at Yuushien Garden

Daikonshima in Japan’s Shimane prefecture is famous for peonies.

Daikonshima, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com (1)

Head to the island’s Yuushien garden to see them in all their glory. This garden is kaiyu shiki teien or circuit style: you start at one end and wind your way around many different gardens.

“The most famous place for this spectacle is the little island of Daikonshima (Radish island), in the grand Nakaumi lagoon, about an hour’s sail from Matsue. In May, the whole island flames crimson with peonies; and even the boys and girls of the public schools are given a holiday, in order that they may enjoy the sight.”

Lafcadio Hearn

 

Daikonshima, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com

In Yuushien, Shimane’s prefectural flower, the peony or botan flowers year round, even in winter, when the blossoms shelter under little thatched roofs.  Spring, however, is the best time to see the garden’s display of floating peonies.Daikonshima, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com (3)

Even if you don’t come for the peonies, there are lots of koi-filled ponds, moon bridges, waterfalls, moss gardens, and karesansui or dry landscape gardens to keep you interested. The gardens are arranged in such a way so that you can enjoy different perspectives of the environment. This garden aesthetic is what the Japanese call miegakure or “hide and reveal.”Daikonshima, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com (4)

In a country often battered by natural disasters like tsunamis, typhoons, volcanic eruptions, and earthquakes, the Japanese garden symbolizes how the Japanese try to control nature. It’s a place where they can contain their chaotic world and present it in a stylized form. Most importantly, the Japanese garden remains a therapeutic place that stills the Japanese mind racked by daily anxieties.

Photos: © Live Lyfe Photography

Would you like to visit Yuushien? Read more in my Savvy Tokyo story here!

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Deep travel: 5 books to help you understand the Caribbean

Think the Caribbean is just a sun, sea, and sand playground where rum flows like water and sunsets make you cry?

Trinidad and Tobagowww.hotfoottrini.com

Think again.

As a traveler, if you really want to understand the region more deeply, read Caribbean literature by Caribbean authors. Dig below the Instagrammable surface of street parties and deserted beaches and you’ll find a very strange place. It’s a place where many were forced to come, whether as slaves or indentured laborers.  Here are my picks to understand the people, the landscape, and culture of the Caribbean.

Wide Sargasso Sea by Jean Rhys

Wide Sargasso Sea tells the backstory of Bertha Mason, a minor character from Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre. In Jane Eyre, Bertha is portrayed as Rochester’s mad first wife from the tropics but Rhys goes deeper. She tells the story of Antoinette Cosway (her real name) and Rochester’s inability to understand his Creole wife and the tropical landscape of the Caribbean. Here’s one of my favorite quotes.

 “I hated the mountains and the hills and the rivers and the rain…I hated its indifference and the cruelty which was part of its loveliness. Above all I hated her. For she belonged to the magic and the loveliness.”

Mimic Men and A Way in the World by VS Naipaul

VS Naipaul is an award-winning writer who often effaces his Trinidadian roots. Some may say that Naipaul has a nihilistic vision of the West Indies. Others say he’s spot on. Take it or leave it, here are my favorite quotes from two of his best books.

Mimic Men

“To be born on an island like Isabella, an obscure New World transplantation, second-hand and barbarous, was to be born to disorder.”

“We pretended to be real, to be learning, to be preparing ourselves for life, we mimic men of the New World, one unknown corner of  it, with all its reminders of the corruption that same so quickly to the new.”

“I have also hinted at the easiness with which on the morning of arrival I saw through each porthole the blue, green and gold of the tropical island. So pure and fresh! And I knew it to be horribly manmade; to be exhausted, fraudulent, cruel and above all, not mine.”

A Way in the World

“We didn’t have backgrounds. We didn’t have a past. For most of us the past stopped with our grandparents; beyond that was a blank…We were just there, floating.” 

“But we go back and back, forever; we go back all of us to the very beginning; in our blood and bone and brain we carry the memories of thousands of beings…But that would only be a fragment of his inheritance, a fragment of the truth. We cannot understand all the traits we have inherited. Sometimes we can be strangers to ourselves.”

The Sea is History by Derek Walcott

St Lucian-born Derek Walcott was a literary genius who wrote several poems and plays. His work reflects razor-sharp insight into the region’s divisive colonial and postcolonial past. Although it’s technically not a book, here are a few lines from one of Walcott’s most famous poems about Caribbean history.

“Where are your monuments, your battles, martyrs?
Where is your tribal memory? Sirs,
in that gray vault. The sea. The sea
has locked them up. The sea is History.”

The White Woman on the Green Bicycle by Monique Roffey

Roffey is a Trinidadian-born writer based in the UK. Her descriptions of Trinidad and Port of Spain, its capital city, are faultless.

“How he loved this city. Port of Spain. Poor blind-deaf city. It spanned back, in a grid, from a busy port and dock; worn out now, ruined and ruinous and suffering, always suffering…parts of the city still renewed themselves, rising up against the odds.”

“George liked it so, that this island was uncompromising and hard for tourists to negotiate. Not all welcome smiles and black men in Hawaiian shirts, playing pan by the poolside. No flat, crystal beaches, no boutique hotels. Trinidad was oil-rich, didn’t need tourism. Trinidadians openly sniggered at the sunburnt American women who wandered down the pavement in shorts and bikini top. Trinidad was itself; take it or leave it.”

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Akashi desu!

Maybe you’ve already visited Japan and done the tourist favorites: Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, and Mount Fuji and you want more.Akashi Castle Ruinswww.hotfoottrini.com

Or maybe you’ve never been to Japan yet you’re craving something different. If you do plan to visit Japan soon, skip the major cities and seek out more offbeat cities that have their own local character.

Akashi is a city like this. It’s a short train ride away from metropolitan Kobe in one direction and castle-town Himeji in the other. If you’re coming from other parts of Japan, no worries! The bullet train or shinkansen stops at Nishi-Akashi station.  Here are three places you must visit if you’re ever in this part of Japan.Akashiwww.hotfoottrini.com (2)

Akashi Castle, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com

Akashi Park and Akashi Castle

One of the city’s highlights is Akashi Park. The park is quite large and great for picnicking, especially during sakura season. There are several cherry blossom trees, especially around the large paddling lake. Within the park, you will find Akashi Castle, built in 1620. Although very little of the original castle remains (two watchtowers and some castle walls), the views from the top are worth it. From here, you can see the Seto Inland Sea,  Akashi-Kaikyo Bridge (the world’s longest suspension bridge), and a sweeping panorama of the city. Akashiwww.hotfoottrini.com

Uonotana

Akashi is pretty famous in Japan for its seafood. Even if you’ve already been to Japan’s seafood mecca, Tsukiji Market, you’ll certainly appreciate the local charm of Akashi’s fish market, located within walking distance of Akashi train station. On Uonotana Shotengai, a 400-year old shopping street, there’s no shortage of squiggly, dead, dried, or otherwise preserved sea monsters. The local specialities sold here are sea bream, octopus, and eel. With over 100 shops including restaurants, there’s a ton of seafood to sample. Don’t leave without trying akashiyaki, Akashi’s version of takoyaki. Unlike Osaka’s version, Akashi’s yummy octopus-filled fritters are dipped into a light dashi broth. If octopus isn’t your thing, here is also the perfect place to get fresh sushi. The street is also very pretty, with hundreds of colorful fisherman’s flags or tairyobata so go camera-crazy. Akashiwww.hotfoottrini.com (1)

Akashi Municipal Planetarium

Akashi’s other claim to fame is that it’s located exactly 135 degrees east longitude, the meridian line used to measure Japanese Standard Time (JST). Built in 1960, the Akashi Municipal Planetarium honors Akashi’s status as “the city of time.” The planetarium is the perfect place to learn more about the stars, planets, time, and space. Bonus points: from here, you can also get crisp views of Akashi-Kaikyo bridge on clear, sunny days.

Photos: © Hot Foot Trini

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Exploring Batu Caves

We take the train to Batu Caves, the last stop on the line running from the center of Kuala Lumpur.

Batu Caveswww.hotfoottrini.com

The streets near the caves are lined with vendors selling technicolor Indian sweets and plump flower garlands. Above, pigeons roost on electrical lines. The ground beneath is stained with a history of their droppings. Someone throws some birdseed on the ground and they rush to the spot. The air is ripe with the smell of dirt and pigeon mess. One man shoots large, iridescent bubbles from a machine gun.

Further ahead is the entrance to Temple or Cathedral Cave. A giant, gleaming statue of a Murugan, the Hindu god of war, guards the base of a flight of 272 stairs that rises sharply and disappears into the cave. At the base, a woman stops a group of girls dressed in shorts. “No short pants in the temple!” she shouts and shows them some gauzy sarongs to cover their naked legs. Macaque monkeys run up and down the ledges, jumping to and from nearby branches, nibbling food they’ve found or stolen from unsuspecting tourists.

At Temple cave entrance, little kiosks sell miniature brass gods, incense sticks, toys, smartphone covers, and flash drives. A girl stands against the wall. Her eyes are downcast. She holds her shawl open like a hammock for charitable donations. The scent of stale food and wet gravel lingers within. Water dribbles from the roof. In the cave’s many nooks and crannies, there are statues of gods and goddesses illuminated by lurid light.

Next, Cave Villa: an art and reptile gallery. Dusty peacocks roam freely. The air smells of damp earth and peacock droppings. Sculpted paintings with pithy sayings hang on the irregular cave walls:

“There are two looks in the dyed eyes of this (fair) one; one causes pain and the other is the cure thereof.”

“The pipe is sweet, the lute is sweet,” say those who have not heard the prattle of their own children.”

In the depths of the earth, creatures sleep in glass cases, drowsy from the cave’s humidity. Slow moving albino snakes, a bumpy-skinned alligator, turtles, fish, rabbits. “Would you like to take a picture with a snake?” someone asks. “No thank you,” I reply. It starts to feel creepy and claustrophobic so we exit for the sunshine.

Next, we head to another part of the temple complex where a stage has been carved out of the rock. A dancer sits backstage, waiting for her next performance. She looks tired. We sit on red plastic stools. Two glossy peacocks strut around, oblivious to the cameras and smartphones recording their every move.

Three dancers begin. The music sounds like a mashup of Indian and American Western music. Then the diva arrives: red mohawk, sculpted eyebrows, dramatic eye makeup. A fake-gold choker drips from his slim neck. A russet bodysuit clings to his lithe form, the armpits already stained with sweat. Around his waist, a fabulous tail of glossy peacock feathers. His eyes dance; his smile is electric; his movements are fluid. The tourists seem more interested in documenting the peacocks’ languid movements.

When we return to the train station, I ask the ticket seller which platform heads back to the city center. He points to a piece of paper desultorily. We descend the stairs to the correct platform and get into the train. As we wait for it to depart, two women quickly sweep the carriage’s already spotless floor. The air conditioning dries the sweat from our backs and faces. The sweepers leave and we glide back to the modern city.

Photos: © Live Lyfe Photography

Have you ever been to Batu Caves? Tell me about it below!

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Hiroshima: the memory remains

In Hiroshima city, it’s spring. The sun is warm and the air is fresh. Smells somewhat green. Birds are singing. In the city center, a tram pulls off and the street vibrates. Men in pressed pinstriped suits and polished brogues walk briskly and women cycle to their offices in chunky heels (how do they do it?).Hiroshima, Japanwww.hotfoottrini.com

 

The Motoyasu river glitters past the A-bomb dome. The dome looks benign, protected by an exoskeleton of scaffolding. Further along the river, Hiroshima Castle soars into the sky like an iced wedding cake. The cherry trees on the castle grounds sprout pink buds. Some are already blossoming. A man gently sleeps under the trees. Fountains bloom. Flowers smile.

In the Peace Memorial Park, an old woman doubles over in prayer, clasping two withered hands in front of a cenotaph for the A-bomb victims. Colorful bouquets rest in front of it.

The Peace Memorial Museum stands nearby, a gray rectangle with rows of long windows cut into its sides. Inside the museum tells another story of the city. On August 6, 1945, at 8:15am, the Allies dropped Little Boy on Hiroshima, then Japan’s military stronghold. At first, the residents saw a flash in the sky ten times brighter than the sun. Then, they heard a heavy boom and felt an intense heat. At ground level, the nuclear bomb created firestorms that swept through the city, melting everything. Thirty minutes after the blast, black rain fell on the survivors and the wreckage. Little Boy instantly killed 80,000 people and injured 100,000 more.Hiroshimawww.hotfoottrini.com

Inside the museum, the war becomes a story of remains. Things left behind. A khaki cloth satchel discolored by death and the passing of time. A stained Shirley Temple doll and a black and white photo of a little girl clutching the doll to her chest. A scene: wax figures running away from the blast, mouths open in horror, skin melting off their limbs. A lock of singed hair. Disembodied, shriveled fingernails. Close-ups of hibakusha, those exposed to the radiation: scorched faces, blistered backs, buttocks, legs, and arms. Stories of human deterioration: hair loss, internal bleeding, diarrhea, birth defects, cancer.

Soon, it becomes too much to bear. How could Japan hold on to such a dreadful past? As a Caribbean person, I couldn’t understand because I suffer from historical amnesia, evident in Derek Walcott’s poem, “The Sea is History.” He writes:

“Where are your monuments, your battles, martyrs?

Where is your tribal memory? Sirs,

in that gray vault. The sea. The sea

has locked them up. The sea is History.”

In the Caribbean, we love to forget. We raze old buildings and build new ones. We clear the landscapes and start afresh. Our relics are buried deep in the ocean bed. The sea becomes the sole repository of our history: our dirty past of conquest, colonialism, slavery, and indentureship. In Japan, it’s different. The good, the bad, and the ugly are preserved in well-curated museums and restored castles, shrines, and temples.

Perhaps the Japanese don’t want to forget. American poet Susan Stewart explains that humans look for objects that embody an “authentic experience”:

“…the memory of the body is replaced by the memory of the object, a memory standing outside the self and thus presenting both a surplus and lack of significance- it is saturated with meanings that can never be fully revealed to us.”

In the same way, the objects carefully curated by Hiroshima’s Peace Memorial Museum have become imbued with a special significance. Without understanding their context, they look mundane. But when we understand the backstory, they become more poignant. They remind the Japanese people of a horror that happened in real life. They do not forget because over time, they can develop the perspective needed to deal with the dreadful past.

When I exit, the city of Hiroshima still seems lovely. The sun still shines. The cherry trees still blossom. The river still glitters. The center still bustles. However, under the surface, there is always the memory of pain and the city still cries for the bodies that remain, burned into the fabric of the streets.

Photos: © Live Lyfe Photography

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3 top hiking destinations in Tottori prefecture

Tottori prefecture is as inaka as its gets in Japan. Although considered one of the country’s least populated prefectures, nature here is simply stunning. If you’re an outdoors type,  you will surely fall in love with the prefecture’s mountainous landscapes. Here are 3 top hiking destinations in Tottori prefecture.Mount Daisenwww.hotfoottrini.com

1. Mount Daisen

Mount Daisen is the highest peak in the Chugoku region of Japan, at 1709 meters high. The actual highest point of this dormant volcano is Kengamine (1729 meters) but it’s not accessible to the general public. There are many ways to ascend. My favorite is the Motodani trail which starts from the Ogamiyama shrine.

At the 1200 meter mark, the Motodani trail joins the main trail. At the 1600 meter mark, you will reach the rim of the volcano’s crater. From here, the climb gets less steep. At the summit, there’s a wooden boardwalk that hovers over wild alpine brush, protecting it from tramping hiking boots. From the top, there are dizzying views: urban Yonago, green rice fields, and the dusty blue Sea of Japan hugging the curve of the coastline.The descent can be hard on the knees. Many of the steps require full-bodied, giant steps.Mount Mitokuwww.hotfoottrini.com

2. Mount Mitoku

Mount Mitoku is a 900-meter high mountain sacred to Shugendo believers. The mountain climb is deemed spiritual training. There is no gentle ascent of Mitokusan. First, you have to clamber over tough, gnarled roots. Along the climb, you can cling to lianas, holding them like ladder rungs up the mountain. If you are afraid of heights, don’t look down. There are no harnesses or safety nets.

You will encounter many temples along the way: Monjudo, Kannondo, and Nagereido, which is nestled in the cliff face. Nagereido means “throw in temple” or “temple placed by throwing.” Legend states that Shugendo’s founder literally threw the temple into place.Mount Senjouwww.hotfoottrini.com

3. Mount Senjou

If you’re looking for a hike that’s easier on the knees, there’s  Mount Senjou, a 615-meter high mountain in the Daisen-Oki National Park. Like Mount Daisen and Mitokusan, Senjousan is considered sacred to Buddhist mountain ascetics in Tottori prefecture.

Senjousan’s forested plateau rises like a high-top fade. The start of the trail climbs a gentle hill, then enters a forested area. Down a narrow path choked with tall grasses and tree roots is Mount Senjou’s secret.  At the end is a small clearing with a narrow, rocky outcrop. To get to the outcrop, you have to creep along a narrow ridge, with your back to the wall. From here, the views are tremendous: blue sky, a sea of furrows covered in dark green pines and brown scrub, a blue-green lake, and snaking roads below.

Want to read more? Explore the unexplored in Tottori Prefecture.

Photos: © Live Lyfe Photography

Have you ever hiked in Tottori? What places did I miss?

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It’s not a typical Trini Indian Wedding unless these 9 things happen

It's not a typical Indian wedding unless these 9 things happen If you’re ever in Trinidad and Tobago, don’t miss the bacchanal of a typical Trini Indian (usually Hindu) wedding. Here are 9 things that may happen while you’re there.

1. The wedding lasts a long time.

Unlike traditional Western-style weddings that wrap up in one day, Hindu weddings in Trinidad and Tobago are marathon affairs. The wedding ceremony will be long and seem never ending so bring something to keep you busy, especially during the frequent wardrobe changes of the blushing bride or dulahin.

2. Guests, please dress to kill.

Ladies, now is your time to shine. Literally. Go bold with blinding, sequined shalwars, gharasas, and saris that you can pick up at any Indian expo that dot the big island. Guys, wear whatever you want.

3. Maticoor night is when ladies “get away.”

If you’re invited to Maticoor night on the Friday before the wedding ceremony, prepare for some raunchy action. On Ladies Night, mommies, aunties, and grannies can get very creative with baigan (eggplant) to show the bride what she can expect on her wedding night.

4. The groom arrives in style.

On the day of the official wedding ceremony (usually a Sunday), the groom or dulaha will arrive at the bride’s house in style, in a souped-up Benz, Audi, or traditional bull cart garlanded in marigold flowers, accompanied by a banging entourage that includes a music truck and full tassa band.

5. The plates are biodegradable.

At the wedding meal, take a freshly washed banana leaf, find a seat at the table, and wait to be served handfuls of silky paratha roti,  huge dollops of rice, dhal, vegetable curries, even dessert (sweet rice) on any free space on your leaf-plate. Go easy on the mother-in-law. This homemade pepper/chili sauce can be lethal. When you’re done, fold your leaf and throw away in the bin/bag provided. Now isn’t that easy and environmentally friendly?

6. There’s always tassa.

Learn how to throw waist to the beat of tassa. Don’t worry, you’ll hear the boom and crashing cymbals from a mile away. If you’re young, single, and female, you will be pulled on the dance floor and you will be expected to rotate your hips and wine down to the ground to the throbbing drum beat.

7. The rest of the playlist is nothing short of eclectic.

The hired music truck will blast Bollywood songs, chutney, dancehall, soca, and 80s rock until the wee hours of the morning. It will be more bass than song so that everything vibrates, even your teeth. Car alarms will go off nonstop. The rest of the evening will be punctuated by the DJ shouting, “Wheel!” P.S. if you weren’t invited to the wedding and you call the police to shut off the music on a Sunday night at 10pm, the DJ will say, “I is a registered DJ and I playing until 1am!”

8. Drinks are stored in car trunks.

If it’s a strict Hindu wedding, that means no alcohol on the premises. However, leave it to Trinis to find a loophole. If you see a group of men standing around the back of someone’s car parked right in front of the bride or groom’s house, you know they’re knocking back Forres Park or Johnny Walker from styrofoam cups. Drunkies may end up dancing in the middle of the road or fighting in a drain.

9. It ends in (happy?) tears.

When it’s time for the bride to leave her family, expect to see her mother clutching her dramatically and bawling her eyes out while the dulahin fights back tears and tries not to smudge her fahbulous eye makeup.

Photos: © Live Lyfe Photography

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A wedding at Izumo Taisha

The couple exits one of the halls at Izumo Taisha, surrounded by a tiny cluster of relatives. The bride steps on the path in a swath of white and holds her head carefully, under the weight of her domed headdress. She looks demure, apart from her crimson lips.

The wedding coordinator places her hand on the small of the bride’s back, guiding her along. The groom trails behind. As he turns the corner, I sputter, “Omedetou.” He quietly acknowledges the nosy gaijin. Soon afterward, the couple and family members stand neatly and smile delicately, waiting for commands from the photographer.

izumo
Japanese Wedding, Izumo Taisha

Izumo is known as the Land of the Gods.  Izumo Taisha in modern day Izumo, Shimane, is a popular wedding shrine because it’s dedicated to Okuninushi, the god of all things unseen, marriage, and relationships.

Close to Izumo Taisha is Inasanohama Beach. Here, Bentenjima, a tiny shrine, perches on a single rock. Instantly, it reminds me of Temple in the Sea in Trinidad. The coastline here is windswept, reminiscent of the choppy, muddied waters of Columbus Channel along the southwestern coast of Trinidad. Legend states that all the gods in Japan meet at Inasanohama during kamimukaesai, the 10th month of the lunar calendar.

Further along the Shimane peninsula lies Hinomisaki lighthouse. This white, stone structure looms over the promontory, keeping a watchful eye on the boats out at sea. Shops selling souvenirs, dried fish, and grilled squid line the deserted lanes that lead to the lighthouse. A wrinkled old woman peers out of her shop. “Dozodozo,” she tells us, waving her arms over a blue tray of colorful shells of dried sea creatures.

Families flock to the lighthouse on the chilly winter evening. Young boys frolic close to the cliff’s edge. The ocean is a clear sapphire close to the rock walls. Seagulls rest on stretches of harsh, brown rock. Too soon, night falls and drenches everywhere in darkness. The shops and restaurants draw their shutters down and we must leave.

Photos: © Live Lyfe Photography

Did you ever visit Izumo? What did you think about it?

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