Good Ole Fashioned GPS | Growing Up In Trinidad

This post was originally done in 2007 for Trini2DBone and is still posted in their forum. I thought that it would be fun to let others take a read here on Zagada.

I really enjoyed listening to Damion Melville and his Bassa Bassa segments on WACK radio (www.wackradio901fm.com). I remember Damion introducing a topic that had everyone laughing 'dey pwefen off' - it was a rib-tickling session. It all had to do with the things we did as kids growing up – the good ole days.  Cosel had me laughing with her “pee-pee bottle” story that was started by Mr. Gus Logie in the classroom – dat boi scoring runs long before he got on the cricket stage.

Many stories were told and Smarty could recount them here but it seems that some of us are just too lazy to beat on the keyboard. So here is the deal – it is a rainy Tuesday morning in Manhattan and I have the time to put this bit together.  If I can do it anybody can.  I will tell the truth about the story I called into the station and only gave Damion a taste of – the whole truth now. So if Smarty could come clean then I expect to read some rib-tickling stories in the days ahead.

As I related to Damion, back in the day when I attended the Arima Boys Government school we got up in the morning got dressed, and did all the morning ablution stuff before leaving for school.  I hated listening to the radio because the song played was: “good morning gooood moooorning, how do you do my friend. Good morning goooood moooorning to you … how do, how do you do” … that meant that you were running late for school. Well, brown khaki pants and a blue shirt and no jockey shorts!  You see long before “Free Willy” became a movie I had Willy living a free life swinging back and forth ringing the Church bells.  Now keep this in mind as I relate the story – no jockey shorts (for the sophisticated folks I am talking about underwear).

Ok so now I am at school and the bell rings – not for recess or anything, we were told to line up and go outside.  Everybody was wondering what was going on until we marched up the stairs into another classroom and were told to open up (yes it was time for the yucky liquid). This lady, dressed in white (yes a nurse) placed a drop of liquid on our tongues – Chenopodium oil – “dat was to kill D snakes in we belly”. Now that was not the end of it, we were ushered out of the building to a line that snaked around the school to the northern side where the majesty of the Anglican Church could be seen.  It was not a good sight to behold – a table with cups of liquid and a teacher with a whip standing next to it – yes my friends it was Epsom salts – “to show D snakes, ahem worms, whey to pass”.  This place was a complete mess because several kids puked on drinking the Epsom salts – "some kids vomited as the liquid hit the back of their mouth".

Immediately after this traumatic situation, we were sent home. However boys will be boys, we decided to have fun unaware of the repercussions.
The first mistake: never purchase sweet drinks (soda eh) after taking Chenopodium – every belch was like drinking it all over again.

Second mistake: Frank (Copper), Melville (Fraff), my brother and I decided to go to the Arima Girls Government school to see the show there (our sisters attended the school) and we were all from Olton Road.  Before we could reach the School Copper’s belly started to churn – he used an abandoned latrine in an empty lot to relieve himself – good ole copybook pages were used to do the clean-up job – phew.  Plans to get to the school were canceled and it was a race to get home.

Well my friends just to let you know, the Arima Boys Government School was in the town of Arima, and Olton road was a good walk away.  Damion your sister knows the distance from the Velodrome in Arima to Olton rd because Cleaver rd is just after Olton road – it is a pull and of course, we had to walk.
Oh gosh, it was trouble with the bois – hustling to get home.  Well midway home I started to walk like ah Chinee man – Kung Fu moves my friend.  I felt like D worms were nipping at the exit – like red ants biting meh in meh culo.  That was a classic because everybody was ahead of me – even meh younger brother.  It was pressure, ah started to sweat and did my best to pinch meh cheeks (not on meh face) tight tight tight to keep meh business inside.  Hello, "oh gorsh ah go sh*t mehself"! It felt like soap slippery when wet then all hell broke loose and the flood gates opened.

Oh, Shit!

Now, do you recall the beginning of the story and the fact that we did not wear jockey shorts as kids in elementary school? Yes, well if you did you would realize that it was mud down the khaki pants – oh gawd fuss ah shame!  I started walking like a crab and in the process left a trail that surely brought out the Sh*t flies.  Now you will understand right there and the was the birth of GPS because anybody could have followed the trail to find me –ah shoulda patent that idea back then – steups.

I did my best to take all the backtracks that I knew to reach home.  By the time I arrived at home the ting had dried on my legs – yikes, what a mess!  My mother said, “Oh my God; don’t come inside get under D pipe”.  The bathroom was outside with a tap outside the enclosure for washing clothes.  I was naked outside getting a mommy’s comforting bath – now ah wasn’t too big for dat.

My brother, the poor fella, was running to the latrine to take care of business – what an experience, but you know what – those were the good ole days! Today that could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. Maybe that is the reason so many people get sick today. We just don't take care of ourselves and clean our insides the way it was done back in the day. So next time you go back to the islands remember what Relator said in a song, "the worm grass does show the worm whey to pass".

Thank you for reading this was a little long... hope you smiled... that is good for the soul.

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Anonymous said…
hahahahah phew what ah stroy, well thank god we did not have that process in school. We used to get all that treatment in the privacy of the backyard - ah could not handle that shame at that age in from of the world (the neighbours/ friends)lawdyyyyy ahahahahah "what ah ting". Really the good the "good ole days". hahahha
Unknown said…
Best story I've heard in a long time!That is something to tell the grandkids.Some people never had days like those.Thanks for sharing with us.