Life is but a scream in TT

THE EDITOR: On June 21 at 5.45 am I found myself in the line outside Immigration on Frederick Street, Port of Spain, taking advantage of the walk-ins for passport renewals. I was happy. The line was not too long. I might be 25th.

Anyway, I do gape when I have time. I looked up and down Frederick Street; saw a CEPEP worker throwing sudsy water along the T&TEC building, while walking toward the line. He threw the sudsy water in the corner of the building and those at the end of the line had to jump out of the way, or their shoes might have been involuntarily cleaned.

I had just commented to the woman behind me about how clean Frederick Street looks, saying: “Wow, there is hope. The mayor is working.”

She replied: “For now, yuh will see it later. We are a nasty people. Anybody supervising and making sure that they do this consistently? Big fuss for a little while and then we gorn back to square one.”

Maintenance, maintenance, maintenance and the Jean de la Valette sailed across my mind.

At 6 am, the young man from the car park next door came and asked people who parked to identify their cars and car numbers. I told the woman behind me to save my place. She said no problem. We had to move our cars, under instructions. There is a science to parking cars for optimum dollars.

I then began my short walk back. I looked up. There was no line, but a crowd of almost rowdy people around a young policeman. I walked through the rowdiness, found my marker and asked her what was going on. POP went my optimistic bubble. The policeman said there was a staff shortage. They will be only taking the first 13 walk-ins, people with appointments and people who were collecting their passports.

He also said to us: “Some persons are out here from 3.30 am.”

A man who was standing behind the woman who was behind me, said to me: “You have to go behind me because you were behind me. I saw when you came.” He was glaring at me.

“What I do he?” I asked myself. I looked at him and he repeated it. I said: “I am in front of this woman, and if we are behind you, you need to be in front of me.”

There were two young women in front of me but I was not seeing them. I said to him: “Sir, you can come in front.” He said look at the crowd. Of course, the crowd was becoming unruly.

He repeated, “Will you go behind me?” with a little shout. I asked the woman who was behind me if she would be going behind, she said a loud “No.” The man started to fuss.

At this point I decided to leave the line and head home. I heard someone say: “I forget this is a Friday after two holidays.” Yuh know? me too, I thought.

I never really liked the question: “Is Trinidad a real place?” More and more as the days go by, it is becoming a very relevant question.

I was told about a “blind man” who entered a bank, stick in hand, with a young man assisting him. He got attention quickly.

The person who shared this with me said when she left the bank and walked toward the Dial in Arima, she saw the two “con men.” The young man counting his money and the “blind man” suddenly healed of his blindness – no stick. They were merrily going along, probably singing: “Life is but a scream.”

ANNA MARIA MORA

counselling psychologist