Life Worth Living

Life Worth Living

Hope promises that there will be a happy ending. God seems to like books … after all, He scripted the Bible. Once God’s Word is inscribed on our hearts, he inscribes our names in His Book of Life. I sometimes like to imagine that our lives fill veritable libraries in the unseen realm; that people who have already walked through life and look on from an unseen dimension, can thumb through our earthly existence, just like we might enjoy a gripping novel. There actually seems to be some indirect evidence for this in the Bible:

And I saw the dead, small and great, standing before God, and books were opened. And another book was opened, which is the Book of Life. And the dead were judged according to their works, by the things which were written in the books … and anyone not found written in the Book of Life was cast into the lake of fire.
Rev 20:12 (NKJV)

and

My frame was not hidden from you

when I was made in the secret place.

When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.

All the days ordained for me

were written in your book

before one of them came to be.
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!

How vast is the sum of them!

Psalm 139:15-17

When God has penned every detail of our life, then that makes for reading that just can’t be put down. Each chapter promises high adventure, noble quests, human heroism, conquering courage, victory over villainy, unexpected twists and turns, suspense-filled circumstances, divine drama, and pure perfection when the literary life-panorama is viewed from its unlikely beginnings to its exquisite end.

When I first asked God to be my Friend forever, I set out on a quest of bold experimentation. One day, as I had my elbows propped on my pillow, enjoying a few quiet moments with the Lord, I said, “Okay God, Hear what … I want to see something. If you could make such a masterful work of creating things out of nothing but your very breath, then I want to see what you will do with my life if I walk with you in faithfulness from one end of my life to the next. I want to see how my life is going to turn out. You are not short of genius or creativity, so if I give you perfect obedience in all things, where will life lead me? What beautiful tale will you make of my life?”

Now I have walked through a couple chapters of my tale and am stepping into the ones which lie ahead, and I can joyfully boast that there is no Story-Teller like my God! He has filled my journals with joy, he has given me a novel of nobility, He has walked me through travelogues of tears and triumph, and poured poetry into my days. I could not have asked for a fuller experience, and that is what the abundant life Jesus promised is really about – the bitter-sweet of life which complexifies who we are in Him, so that the maze of beauty which He is becomes deeply patterned within us.

The beautiful thing is that there is no “The End” in God. He writes on forever and ever. So the end of one chapter is the start of a more glorious one. God never returns to a former glory, and the wonderful comfort of it all is that no matter how the tale begins, God can weave it into something extraordinary. Jesus came as a helpless baby in a filthy manger but now sits triumphantly as the King of Kings. Joseph went from slavish poverty to a political prison to the highest position within Pharaoh’s palace. David went from being unceremoniously sidelined by his family to being ushered into Kingship and into the very genealogy of Christ; many tales; one Author; many lives; one Truth; many chapters; one perfect ending; many knees bent; one proclamation. God is the Alpha and the Omega - the Beginning and the End; and the One who knows the End from the Beginning. As long as God has written the tale, I can live within its pages. Life penned by God … is always worth living.

Photo: my Japanese friend, Hisako

My Treasure

My Treasure

Do not lay up for yourselves
treasure on earth,
where moth and rust destroy
and where thieves break in and steal;
but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven,
where neither rust nor moth destroys
and where thieves do not break in and steal.
For where your treasure is,
There your heart will be also.
Matthew 6:19-21

A few days before I left Japan, I met one of my best friends – Hisako San – for a simple, farewell dinner of scrumptious sandwiches at a popular restaurant. We chatted, laughed, reminisced and together looked forward to what lay ahead for both of us. Just before we got ready to leave, Hisako presented me with a gift and urged me to open it. I tore away the beautiful wrapping, and soon a tastefully-designed Japanese book lay in my hands. It was small and jacketed in cream, textured paper with a little dog gracing the cover. Over it was the book title in elegant Japanese script. Hisako explained that it was one of her favourite books and also quite popular in Japan. It’s called See You Anytime I Want. When she offered to translate it for me, I gave my assent, “Woof! Woof!” and we both had a good laugh. As she went through the book page by page, though, our playful teasing gradually turned to tearful smiles.

The book was about a little dog whose owner (a little girl) had passed away. As the little puppy comes to terms with the fact that he can’t play with her anymore, and that no matter how extensively he searches, he can’t find her, he slowly comes to realize that she is up among the stars, looking down on him and that one day they would be playmates again. Hisako found the most eloquent way to say, “Nneka, I’m going to miss you … but we’ll meet again.” It was so touching. It was only on completing the reading that she explained that the book is designed to help children come to terms with the loss of loved ones. The meaning in the context of my returning to Trinidad and our friendship, was artfully left unexplained … but our moist eyes and bitter-sweet smiles meant that the meaning was clear to each of us.

That special dinner is one that I will always treasure. It was a sweet celebration of friendship, and also a beautiful reminder of the sophisticated subtleties of Japanese culture which I grew to appreciate and admire. That little puppy could have pined his life away waiting for his little friend to return, but instead he found peace and contentment in the fact that she was in a better place – a safe place. In an abstract metaphorical sense, because his ‘treasure’ was in heaven, this knowledge gave him a warm sense of comfort and security.

Sometimes life comes along and takes things from us – friendships, loved ones, bank accounts, health, options, pride, … hope. Sometimes we may feel that life is simply not worth living. Job was one such individual, nose-diving from being the wealthiest man in Asia to the most pitiable character on the planet … until God restored what He allowed the enemy to take from him.

In his time of desperate suffering, Job had every reason and seemingly every justification to end it all. Yet, his personal philosophy pulled him back from the edge, as he gritted his teeth and determined to live on despite every provocation to the contrary. The only option he allowed himself was to keep trusting God, to see if he would not meet providence around the next unlikely corner.

The intensity of Job’s inner grappling was torturous. He said: … my soul chooses strangling and death rather than my body. I loathe my life (Job 7:15-16). The swirl of sorrow in the upper portion of his mind did not, however, erode his bedrock faith. When his wife prodded him to curse God and die, He said: Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity? He understood that God’s goodness could not be called into question, and that the complex God He served could not be boxed into simplistic human equations based on direct co-relations between good people and consistently-favourable circumstances.

Though Job had been one of the world’s wealthiest men, his truest treasures were not things of temporal worth. What he valued most highly was his integrity, which was ultimately defined by God’s opinion of His life choices. If we can take all the things we love and entrust them to God, we will find that we create an entirely different kind of trove – one created by ancient faith and priceless grace. For God takes our trust in Him and our consequent choices, and fills our heavenly treasure chest with good things that last forever – divine favour, golden-honey joy, liquid-gold grace.

When crisis comes along, we can dip into our heavenly cache and invest our spiritual resource in real-life issues to enjoy tangible benefits in the here-and-now. In our grief, God will pour in his balm, in our loss, God will pour in provision, in grey times, God will line the clouds with sunny encouragement. If everything is taken from us, we will know that we are rich in Christ and that God will create a way out emotionally, materially, circumstantially or any combination of the three.

For when we make God our treasure, we become His precious possession. When we come to be the apple of His eye, anything that touches us will make Him blink. He will respond and be there for us. His favour will keep us and make a way for us. This is what a wise lady said of David (described as a man after God's own heart) when he was running from king Saul: Even when you are chased by those who seek to kill you, your life is safe in the care of the Lord your God, secure in His treasure pouch! But the lives of your enemies will disappear like stones shot from a sling! - 1 Sam 25:29

Though I don’t have much by human standards, God is my reward … and He’s with me all the time. I remember once being in my living room, throwing a pity-party for myself, wondering if I would always be living (okay … dangling) on the financial and professional edge. I sensed God ask me, “If all you had was me, wouldn’t that be enough?” And I immediately perked up and straightened myself out and said, “Of course, God! You are my reward! Once I have you, I don’t need anything else at all!”

I don’t have to search for my Best Friend everywhere and yet not find him, like that little puppy. My contentment comes from the fact that wherever I go He will be, and there I will find joyously-dazzling richness of boundless worth. God Himself is my highest treasure for his character is gemmed with kindness, and diamond-crusted with wisdom. His very nature out-sparkles the most brilliant stone. He is the best-kept secret; the Jewel that crowns all of creation; the one who designs Karat qualities into my very being; the Sweetest Glow of Perfect Glory on the inside of me.

Blooming Spring

Blooming Spring

Flowers bud midst the thorns
I thought hope had long gone
But look! Spring has come
Rest in the One
Who makes creation sing

©NnekaEdwards2006

Life is Fine

See "Life is Fine"
by Langston Hughes
(1902-1967)

Photo by Karina McKoy

Madam and the Wrong Visitor

See "Madam and the Wrong Visitor"
By Langston Hughes
(1902-1967)

A Better Way Out

25 April 2005

Dear students,

Thoughts on Today

I am sure that most of you would have already received the very sad and tragic news about our classmate, P.T.. He took his life today. I am sure that I speak for everyone when I say that we are all truly and deeply saddened by this loss. Class will not be the same without him.

Before I continue, let me just say that I have been informed by L.B. that counseling services will be provided on Wednesday afternoon. For those of you who feel that you would like to receive some form of professional support, please do make the time to speak with someone, whether at this appointed time or at another place and time of your choosing.

I am sorry that we will not really have another opportunity anytime soon to be together as a class, but I feel that there are some things that I would like to say, even if only via email.

Where does one begin?

I must say that when I received the news there was instinctive denial (no, that just can’t be true!), and then absolute shock. But now that a few hours have passed, and I have had some time to settle myself, and sit back and get some perspective on things, these are the thoughts that I would like to share …

First of all, as with the recent passing of my father, I accept that God knew this was going to happen even before it did. It took all of us by surprise, but not God. And by extension, God, who is merciful and just, knows that some good will come out of this. Strange as that may seem. That is just something that I accept by faith.

Secondly, it is so important that we keep close friendships (even if we have just one close friend or confidante). I have gained such comfort and wise counsel from several of my friends tonight. It really has allowed God to pour in his peace and comfort into my heart.

The animal kingdom really helps illustrate why it is so important to not become isolated and cut off from (friendly) company. The first animals that predatory beasts bring onto their radar are those who are straggling or those who are too weak to keep up with the rest of the pack. That is why it is important that the ‘weak’ get themselves to the center of the pack, and why the ‘strong’ also need to keep an eye out for their weaker comrades. For there really is strength in numbers.

Having a trustworthy friend, and being willing to make others privy to the deep issues of our heart (even if it seems embarrassing) can literally make the difference between life and death.

The thing is, when P.T. is no longer here, it does not mean that he has ceased to exist. It just means that he exists in a different place. When we die, we don’t suddenly become formless and lifeless. We do not return to nothingness. Human beings are eternal creatures, made in the image of our Creator who is also eternal. Death does not mean an end to our existence.

The stark reality is that after we die and enter eternity, we either end up in the embrace of God or in the burning, blazing coals of Hell (wherever that might be). What decides where we end up is whether we choose God’s ways or not. Although Hell is a reality, it is not necessarily designed to scare us into a relationship with God, though that is what happens to some people sometimes.

God Himself is the greatest advertisement for a life that is designed according to and motivated by His principles. For God is wise, humble, just, merciful, strong, gentle, severe, light hearted and much, much more. Just imagine the person whose company you love most and then multiply that by infinity. That’s God.

All that to say, there are many lessons to be learnt from what happened today. If all we do is wring our hands and beat our chests and then go back to normal living, we will have learnt little. Perhaps we will each gain different insights, but what I have seen is that:

- We need friends to form strong walls of protection about us
- The strongest wall is friendship with God
- We need to ensure that we do not isolate ourselves
- Isolation makes us easy prey for forces of suicidal darkness
- We need to be compassionate towards the 'weak'
- We need to appreciate our value in God's eyes

There is no sense in condemning ourselves for things we have no control over. P.T. made his choice, and having interacted with him, I do believe that God did provide a way out for him. It is sad that he either did not see it or perhaps did not accept it, but as sad as that is, none of us can reverse what happened.

God is a God of Hope.

Hope = confidence in a good outcome despite current circumstances

I can say much more, but I will end off here. Praying that we all learn from this tragedy, and gain the type of wisdom that will cause us to build or deepen our foundations in Christ.

With sincere wishes,

Ai Laoshi

Teacher Edwards

Korean Chronicle: Taking Stock

Taking Stock

27 August 2002 will make it exactly one year that I have been in Korea. So it seems like a significant time to look back and take stock. It is really quite awe-inspiring, mind-boggling, sobering and re-assuring when one can look back and see how clearly and strategically God was setting things in place without one even realizing.

When I look back over the past 12 months, what really stands out for me is how very involved in my life God is and has been. Bette Midler had a hit song many years ago – “From a Distance” where God seemed like a distant observer of human life. But when God talks about having His eyes on people in the Bible, it is clear that He is very eager to be mixed into our lives like yeast in dough – inextricably kneaded into the core of our existence.

I do not often mention God in the journals that I have been pumping out, but really He is very much at the forefront of my mind when I write about my experiences here. There is absolutely no way that I could have engineered all of this. The most creative meanderings of my mind would have never painted such an incredible experience for myself. I now understand what God means when He promises to do exceedingly above anything we could have ever dreamed or imagined.

The seeds for my adventures in Korea began many moons ago in my final semester at McGill in the earlier part of 1996. I did a course on Korean history which stirred my interest in the so-called “Hermit Nation.” Then during my 10-month stay in Taiwan I met a few Koreans, and became good friends with one. And I will never forget sitting in the huge public library in Taipei reading a Time (or was it Newsweek?) report on the famine in North Korea. Well that just wrenched my heart (probably plenty propaganda was in there, but still …). So as way back as five to six years ago, Korea was on my mind.

I knew that I wanted to continue studying, that I wanted to study in Asia and that I would need a scholarship to fund my way through. Wouldn’t you know it, my Canadian cousin (Myles) started dating a Canadian-Korean (Jenny) and in 2000 (if I remember correctly), they flew to Trinidad and Tobago for a visit. I happened to mention to Jenny that I was interested in Korea and that I would have loved to learn Korean and maybe study out this way. She promised to make enquiries with her contacts at the Korean Embassy when she flew home.

True to her word, she got back to me shortly thereafter with news of a scholarship offered by the Korean government. I called the Embassy myself and spoke with a very kind gentleman, Consul Kim. I couldn’t make it in time for the deadline for August 2000, but I was encouraged to apply again the following year. 2001 came, I got my application going, and had incredible support from Consul Kim, who remembered me from the year before. It’s not a scholarship that many Canadians seem to know about, and in fact I was told that I was the only one who applied in 2001.

The application process was a rather complicated one and there were hiccups along the way which threatened to abort the whole process. But after a while it became very clear that Korea was indeed on God’s agenda for me, and that God wanted me to trust Him and pray the whole thing through no matter how discouraging the natural circumstances seemed.

There were many encouraging factors, but one of the biggest was the people from Korea (some of whom I had never met before , but who Jenny put me on to) who were incredibly kind to me. From January to July, I went up, down, and all around trying to make things happen. But indeed it was God working behind the scenes who got the wheels oiled and worked things out in my favour. At the very last hour, I received news that I had been granted the scholarship. What elation!

But once the joy of knowing I had received the scholarship mellowed a bit, I had to start thinking of more nitty gritty issues – namely money. The scholarship does not cover accommodation and I was just barely able to scrape together enough for lodgings during my first semester. I decided that I would look for a job or extra funding when I arrived in Korea.
I was very optimistic. But lo and behold when I got here all plans for finding a job and extra funding fell through. But from the way things had been going, I realized that everything boiled down to whether I trusted God or not; and I did trust Him. Near the end of my first semester I discovered the home-stay option and the whole issue with accommodation worked itself out very nicely. I had had no clue about this alternative, but this is clearly God’s safety net for me.

For those of you who have been following my chronicles from the very start, I would like to hope that you see as clearly as I do the confidence and focus and fore-thought with which God has been making everything fall into place here. It really really blows my mind as I look back – the fun, the friendships, the provision, the opportunities to use already-existant skills and to acquire new ones. I had absolutely no clue that all of this was going to happen. It still blows my mind.

The other thing that I feel I should say, and I hope people will realize that I say it with no arrogance or conceit, is that really all the fun I’m having now did not come free. I don’t believe in a “God-bless-me!” kind of faith. However, I do believe in a God who rewards faithfulness. So in my early years as a Christian I made some investments that I think are paying off now – investments in obedience, faith, seeking after God with fierce intensity, holding onto God when the circumstances that were pounding me shouted that I should let go.

I like to think of it all in terms of gambling. Very early o’clock I decided that with God it was either going to be all or nothing. I put all my chips on God, and even when things around me were failing, I kept putting my chips on God. I had read the Word, about the incredible lives of incredible men and women like David and Abraham and Ruth. They gambled everything, and in the end they gained everything. So really I think all that has happened over the past year is God letting me reap what I have sown, cashing in on my investments so to speak.

So as I take stock of all that has transpired I’m very grateful to God for making all of this happen. There is no God like Him!

Thanks a lot to those of you who give me feedback from time to time. It’s nice to know that people enjoy the journals!

Cheers to an incredible year in the Land of the Morning Calm, and great expectations for the next upcoming period of time!

An yeung!

Nneka

Korean Chronicle: Fasion Show Fiasco

Fashion Show Fiasco

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Glad it’s over, but too bad it’s over. That pretty much sums up the Hanbok-Kimono Fashion Show held in February. I participated as a foreign volunteer model, along with fellow-scholarship-recipients from the National Institute for International Education Development (NIIED). Looking back now, I can chuckle heartily. What a sweet ordeal that was!

The cultural officer for the NIIED, Mr. Kim, called the organisers of the show, and managed to get us included in the program. The purpose of the event was to wish good luck to World Cup 2002. The volunteers were from Bulgaria, Canada (yours truly), Chile, China, Indonesia, Kyrgyzstan, Morocco, Mongolia, Nepal, Romania, Russia and Turkey.

Weeks of anticipation finally came to an end – the 8th of February 2002 arrived. In the wee hours of the morning, we got our sleepy selves out of bed in order to make it to the Sejong Cultural Centre for 7:00 a.m. (mind you, the show was scheduled to start at 5:00 p.m.). Lo and behold when we arrived, we were greeted with locked doors, while the organisers were nowhere to be found. After some time, the guards let us in and after a bit of meandering and a few detours, we stumbled into our make-up room where cosmetic specialists and hairstylists were waiting. By this time it was about 9:00 a.m.

To our delight, we were told that it was time to make all those cosmetics do their magic. We all started to get our hair and faces done. Being of African descent with a very short haircut, all that I required was a face-over. Brown and white foundation were creamed together to try to match my complexion. Eyeliner and mascara were deftly applied. A few brushes of green eyeshadow, a sweep of blush, and a touch of glossy lip colour and voila! I had been transformed. I peered into the mirror and squealed! I looked like something dragged up from the grave. “Oh my gosh! I look like a ghost!!” I moaned. Was this a Chinese opera or a fashion show? Get, my friend and fellow-model from Thailand came over, took a look and gave her approval. Only then was I able to brave the mirror once more and agree that I didn’t look half bad after all.

Finally everyone’s hair and make-up were done, and we all sat around waiting for the next thing to happen … but it didn’t. We sat and sat, waited and waited. Mr. Kim kept trying to call his contact person – no answer. He was visibly disappointed and upset, but we managed to stay in good cheer. Finally two very well-dressed elderly women entered the room and began chatting with Mr. Kim. Apparently, they were not happy to see a bunch of beautiful young ladies and some fine gentlemen staring at them. “No! they’re too good-looking! We wanted young children and ugly, old people to go along with something special in the program. If we can’t find any, we’ll do it ourselves!” We sat for a while, taken aback by the inside-out compliment, questioning if they would ditch us from the program, wondering if the many friends that we had invited would not be treated to us gliding down the runway after all! In the end, they allowed us to stay in. Big relief!

Finally, one or two hours later, we were called to our first ever rehearsal. That’s when “Mr. Bally” showed up, which is what we dubbed the little Korean man who coordinated the models. With languid hand motions and peevish temper, this gentleman gave us a hasty explanation of what we were supposed to do. On our first attempt, he stopped us – “Ani, ani! Bali! Bali!” (“No, no! Fast! Fast!”). He wanted us to just zip on and off the stage. A tug-of-war quickly ensued. Mr. Kim and Mr. Bally gave us alternate and conflicting instructions – fast, no slow, fast I said, go slow! We seemed on the brink of World War III. A little more and our little man might have been rolling around on the floor in vexation. When neither party was looking we agreed to go as slowly as possible. We didn’t wake up at 5:00 in the morning to spend five seconds on the stage.

With practice over and nothing to do, we went into the audience section of the three-tiered theatre hall to take in the dress rehearsals. What a beautiful show had been planned with seductively alluring kimonos and elegantly modest Hanboks. From the smooth flow of the models across the stage, it all became crystal – rehearsals had been going on before the day without us knowing it, and we were just an after-thought. No wonder we were just going to be tacked onto the end of the program!

It was getting closer to show time. Finally they called us backstage to put on our Hanboks. A rack of clothes was pushed in front of us – “Just take anything and put it on quick!” Confusion, dismay. I was stunned into immobility as hands began grabbing up garments. Not having the dimensions of a typical Korean woman (far less a typical Korean model), “anything” would definitely not fit me. A Korean lady passed by, saw my dazed look, and stuffed a Hanbok of a sickly green colour into my hands. That’s when I came to my senses. I thought, “Well maybe I’m going to look like a fool in a Hanbok that’s too small for me, but by God I am going to look like a fool in the right colour!” Some very kind assistants helped me squeeze into a lovely Hanbok of Royal Blue. Many fingers were bloodied with pins as we tugged and pulled to get it on.

We amused ourselves backstage, going to the sides to peep ever so often. Then to our shock, our turn came! They plopped us right in the middle of the program after all. Pangs of nervousness prickled my stomach as we lined up behind the backdrop and took our positions. The first two models marched out to the soulful strains of traditional Korean music. Then Mr. Rush-deed himself started sputtering again, “Bal-bal-bal-bal!!!” Down the aisle me and my partner from Indonesia went. All I could see was a misty haze of blinking camera flashes as I heard the announcers calling out our nationalities, and expressing bewilderment about why we were going so quickly. We all lined up at the top of the stage, did our synchronised bow, made another circuit of the stage and got off, exhilarated. Hours of torturous waiting melted away in a mere five minutes of glory.

After our final appearance at the end of the show, I went outside to find my friends and the first people I saw as I emerged from backstage were Mrs. Lee and her daughter, Da-Een, from my homestay family. They greeted me with a lovely bouquet of yellow flowers and told me that I looked beautiful. It was so touching that they had actually come to the show. All my friends told me that I looked great, and that they enjoyed the show.

Excitement, frustration, and comedy all wrapped into one memorable bundle. If I had the chance to do it all over again, I don’t think that I would, but … I’m glad that I did!

Photos by Korean photographer

Crusoe Chronicle: Picture-Perfect Tobago

Picture-Perfect Tobago

Tobago is … lush beauty. Tobago is … crystal blues. Tobago is … palm-tree landscapes. Tobago is … hammock-lazing serenity. Tobago is … flocks of goats blissfully lost. Tobago is … paradise. A two-day escape to our sister isle was the whip-cream topping on my one-week vacation.

Yes, I’m on vacation right now - a nice, little respite spanning the 21st to the 28th of September. Mums and I decided to visit Crusoe’s Isle together, each with a different ‘mission.’ Mum was going to visit a long-time family friend, and I was hoping to grab some eye-catching photos for my blog and to add to my personal collection of images. We took off from Piarco bright and early on Wednesday morning and returned well into night on Thursday. For both of us, by the end of the trip, we were able to say with a sigh of satisfaction: mission accomplished.

For me, two days in Tobago meant special moments; like treating mum and her friend, Angela, to a lovely breakfast of waffles and fruit at the Original House of Pancakes; like seeing mum’s child-like delight while savouring a Ciao Café waffle cone basket filled with two creamy scoops of heavenly ice-cream; like enjoying hearty conversation with mum and Angela over a good home-cooked meal – plantain fried to golden perfection, peppery stewed chicken, callaloo-smothered white rice and fresh, sliced tomatoes; Tobago was full of special moments like driving around the southern tip of the island with my cousin, Myrna, who, despite her hectic life, was good enough to take me about to get my shots; special moments like bumping into Aunt Gwyn and my cousin, Hyacinth, when checking in at Crown Point Airport in Tobago, catching up on a year’s worth of lost time; moments like bumping into my Trini friends, Akin and Jeanelle, who ended up on our flight back and were kind enough to take us home; special moments.

Tobago also meant times when I would have loved to have escaped my island escape; to have eluded some my-God-what-am-I-doing-here moments; like the blistering heat of an unforgiving tropic sun set further on fire by global warming. Like running like a mad woman around flower patches with my camera trying to snap frisky butterflies and flighty birds that went their merry way at all the wrong moments … all in blazing heat and buckets of sweat. Like the odd occasions when mum and I had wee, little spats that seemed to cause us both giant-size irritation. My-God moments like a car-load of little Tobago-pickney boys who loved nothing better than to tease, tug and talk about all kinds of ‘wonderful’ conversation pieces as my cousin drove us around; like the same troupe of youngsters who soon grew tired of posing for pictures that I had flown specially to Tobago to get, complaining that they wanted to play in the park, go to the beach, do something else (I’m tiiiiired!) … anything but smile wide or stand just so! (Geesh. Who wants to go to some beach when they could be posing for my pictures?? I could make them stars!).

But all those hellish moments in my heavenly getaway were worth enduring because there were so many magical Caribbean moments to make up for them. Like driving through the cool morning to Pigeon Point where fishing boats floated serenely in perfectly still, crystal waters near the shore. Like enjoying the refreshing morning breeze and an idyllic sense of peace that just wrapped around your senses like a sweet blanket; like Auntie Angela, in some vexation (but to my humour), shooing away wandering goats that had taken to munching on the bananas and grapefruits on her Calder-Hall property; like an odd blackout that left liberal sprinklings of stars to admire; like nothing but lanky coconut trees, turquoise and deep-blue waters, and shores lined with the foamy white of breaking waves as you travel up quiet roads and along rugged coastlines; like warm hospitality and the sound of sweet familiarity as folks and long-time friends greet each other in the streets, on the beach or any place where kindness and courtesy mingle. Yes, sweet Caribbean enchantment.

Two days in Tobago left a basket-full of wonderful memories. Two days in paradise left me with the beauty of the island captured in lovely images … including a couple cooperative butterflies and one obliging winged songster. I must say … Tobago was mostly heaven. Tobago was sometimes hell … but Tobago did me very well!