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Day 15 Tobago

Even in the skeezy room I got a good nights rest. Felt comfortable enough to doze off again clutching my ten thousand sleep drooled pillow. Hey, at that first moment of waking up, who really cares what your sleeping on or with. I needed a shower so off I went to the “shared”, shower. It was nothing special, your run of the mill campsite shower. Just don’t touch anything and you’ll be okay kind of place. It did have one of those electric shower heads. They are very common in South America where the government doesn’t actively involve themselves in peoples safety types of issues. Although I am not a big brother government fan, I do agree with the fact that you will not see these contraptions in the US. Every one of these units I have seen has the wiring twisted together covered in electrical tape. It would seem like the manufacturer would include some sort of special wire harness, or at least something that would keep it from being exposed to the water. Ever since I was a baby, I knew it was not good to mix electricity with water. It is like in every cartoon, yet here I stand under a cascade of water and hitting an electrical switch that sends ten thousand volts to a little piece of plastic that heats up a stream of water that funnels right to the top of my head. I have to imagine it was the guy who developed the execution equipment that they use to fry people, who came up with this contraption. He probably was being paid on commission and figured he could get a bigger return on his investment if he mass produced them.

After my death defying shower, I headed out in search of an internet café. I decided to sacrifice a couple of days of beach bumming time to get caught up on the blog. After an hour of wandering around I broke down and asked a taki guy who pointed me in the way of the shopping mall. It turned out to be an internet shop, but it was all Macintosh. Now I don’t have a bias towards Macs, and I hear good things about them, however, trying to do the things that you have to do to import text and photos to this blog just wasn’t going to happen. I gave it a good half hour before I told the guy thanks but no thanks. Off I went to find another café. The guy gave me a place to try that would have PC’s. I found the place and planted my ass for four hours putting everything together. I didn’t get all the way caught up, but it got to a point that I was learning from my mistakes and could see the daylight at the end of the tunnel. If I do ever get caught up, my New Years Resolution is to lose weight, give up smoking, and stay within a day of my entries. Well, the last one, the other ones were just an example.

I headed out into the sun feeling like I accomplished something. It was actually raining like cats and dogs, but my accomplished made me beam like the sun. Whatever. I bopped around the market for a while checking out the crap and all the people bustling around trying to get somewhere. It was getting on in the day so I stopped by Pizza Boys for some pizza. It was a while since I had a pizza and it hit the spot. Being mentally drained from actually using my mental, I needed a nap, so I headed back to my dirt pad. One of the cool things about the place that I was staying was that it was considered the worst part of the dirty capital city. It made the usual conversations of how dangerous a city is and to stay out of this certain area at any time of the day. It was always amusing when I tell them, “oh, that’s where I live.” That usually ends the conversation and them saying that “oh, then you’ll be fine.” What made the area a little less redeeming than the other parts of the dirty city was that the crack heads washed cars right out front. There was about a dozen of them out there at all hours of the day and night scrubbing cars for a few bucks. They actually did a great job on the cars and I got along fine with them. Our first four or five meetings consisted of:

“Hey, you want some crack?”

“Uh-No.”

“You want some Ganga?”

“Uh-No.”

“You want a woman?”

“Uh-No.”

“Oh, Okay Mon.”

From there it would evolve into some discussion about where I was from, the different types of travelers, hiking tips in Trinidad, politics, the economy, my fighting style,… Pretty bizarre, but interesting.

For the rest of my days there I would stop by and pick up some bread and cold cuts, or some street food for them. They were very appreciative since all of their money had to go to crack, so food was always scarce. With that, I was known as California, and I could walk all over without a care.

The rest of the day I napped, wandered around and gave upon Citibank.

Citibank Sucks! That’s all I have to say about that.

That night, figuring I needed to prepare myself for South America went through my pack for some reductions. The sweater, work shirt, dress shirt, speakers, extra camera cords, extra camera lens, and the pair of boxers that I wore for the first two weeks (Oh, quit it, I wore them inside out for a few days, I’m not a total slob,) were put in a bag and left on the broken dresser. I still needed to do some more reductions, but it was a start.

After that, I packed and got ready for my move the next day.



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One response to “Day 15 Tobago”

  1. Tamika says:

    hahahahha steve comon two weeks boxers lol u crazyyyyyyyyy lol i’m still readin so keep adventuring i have all night to catch up on u