The Last Assignment.

My photographer grunted in frustration as he forced the lever into second gear, "This old car fallin' apart! Ah tell them it can't make these kinda drives!"

To me, he always seemed apologetic about the condition of his old Nissan. At least, that's how he came across to me. The car was old - I'll give him that - but I didn't see the need for him to offer any explanations. This was the same car that got us to and from assignments in the Diego Martin hills and around the hairpin turns of the North Coast Road leading to Maracas. Now, we were weaving our way through the hills of Belmont on our way to a murder scene.

"Hmph..." was all I replied to his complaint. This was... IS my usual response to any statement I didn't feel warranted me actually thinking of something to say. Instead I focused my attention on the view outside my window. I had never been this far inside Belmont before and I wanted to take it in.

In most places, on either side of the road, the land sloped gently upward. There were few areas that were more built-up than others, but other than that, it was your typical hillside community with houses nestled against the sloping landscape, surrounded by trees and tall grass. It was still the dry season then and the sun was making it's presence felt, but since the season wasn't as harsh this year, there was still a lot of green everywhere. Many of the properties were unfenced, which I assume was mostly because they were squatter homes that had been regularized by some government or the other. Others either saw no need or didn't have the funds to put up fences.

Eventually, we managed to find our assignment, despite the crude directions the officer at the Belmont police station gave me. Of course, the row of police vehicles and the yellow tape cordoning the street where the shooting took place helped.

The entire street was taped off. About halfway in - I estimate about 20 feet - forensics officers were standing over something in the tall grass on the side of the road. That was our body. It was hard to make out, even through the zoomed-in view of my photographer's camera.

There were other reporters already on the scene and I asked one of them, Cee, a reporter I knew from previous assignments, what they found out. She nodded and shrugged and she pulled another cigarette from her bag. I wasn't actually expecting her to share any juicy info she might have picked up. I was new to the reporting gig but I wasn't an idiot. Fortunately, I knew one of the officers on the scene, so I waited until his superiors had moved off a bit and approached him.

"I already told Cee everything we know," he said.

"Yeah, okay, but just give me the short version. In case she "forgets" to tell me something. I prefer to get my info first hand anyway."

He looked at me for a few seconds and I, in turn, raised my eyebrows expectantly and put my pen to my notebook. He sighed...

The victim's identity wasn't verified but it look as if it was a gang-style execution. That, he assured me, was all they knew at that time. After I thanked him, I went over to my photographer to see what luck he was having in getting a good photo. He told me that unless they were done and ready to move the body he wasn't going to get a decent shot from our distance. So all we could do was wait.

Not good news. The day was hot and we had to rely on the what little shade an overhanging tree could provide us.

It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

It wasn't long before Cee and most of the others decided they'd had enough and it was time to leave. It didn't look like they planned on moving the body anytime soon so we left as well.

Not long after we pulled off, my photographer began groaning in frustration again as he struggled with his old Nissan's manual transmission and we talked about the problems he was having with the finance company to get a loan for his new car. Maybe it was because I was so new to journalism, but I found that even these morbid and seemingly wasted trips were still a little exhilarating.

Too bad they were already planning on firing me the next day...

A Day At The Beach.

I wrote two whole posts today! The first is at Sprocket Ink. You know the drill. SI Badge on the right: Click it to go straight to that post. Next is a post I wrote about a story assignment The Paper sent me on yesterday. To. the. beach! They make it hard to hate them sometimes.

********

The road to Maracas Bay isn't for the faint of stomach. It's a series of seemingly endless hairpin turns that wind along the mountainous north coast. On one side, the heavily forested Northern Range towers above while on the other, it continues its steep drop to the ocean.

This was my mission yesterday. A trip to Maracas to scope out the scene at what has become a tradition here in T&T. Every Ash Wednesday, the masses flock here the cool down after the two days of Carnival craziness. Sometimes I love this job.

But this wasn't the usual Ash Wednesday post-Carnival beach escape. Noticeably absent were the infamous long lines of vehicles snaking in and out of the beach. My new photographer (lost the other one on the Carnival Tuesday assignment and haven't seen him since) and I got there in no time at all.

As always, I was captivated by the pristine beauty of one of the island's most popular beaches.

How the Northern Range embraces it on both sides.

The powerful waves crashing that just seem to beg you to dive in.

Paradise!

There were a few reasons for the lack of crowds that morning. The weather was overcast that morning so many would have wanted to see if the day was suited for the beach. Others were wary because someone spread a rumor of a police shootout in the area. The weather cleared up very early with no signs of rain from there on in and police patrolling the said the shootout rumor was false, so everyone was expecting a huge influx to appear just after lunchtime.

That gave me and my photographer time to relax talk to who was already out there and, of course, take some pictures.

We came across a group who had built a sand pyramid.

They made other... things too.

What do you think? Too much to drink, or too little?

Needless to say, there are big booties, there are guys trying to get behind it.

Admiring his handiwork

I wasn't going to edit any more faces but I know this guy.

He really got into it.

Still, you just can't get over that view.

The lovely, lovely view.

Yeah, just so you know, the next few are girls in bikinis pics.

Okay! Okay! Ladies, something for you too.

Sorry, America, but we're not giving her back.

It was around this time I considered a career change.

You mean they get paid to look at this all day, EVERY DAY?!

Soon it was time for lunch.


Any Trini will tell you that when you visit Maracas beach, you have the Bake and Shark, so, of course, that's what we were after. "Richard's" is the man to go to. Sure, he has the longest lines, but that because he has the best bake and shark on the beach. Being in the media, he let us skip the line. I love this job.


Actually there are two lines. There's one to get your sandwich which moves pretty fast. After you get it, however, there's a second line to choose from his wide assortment of condiments.

Forget how some of them look. They're ALL awesome!

I was going to snap a picture to show you what it looks like... but I ate it.

Urp!

So I bought another one! YAY!

Believe me. A lot of sharks died a worthy death to make this happen.

That's around the time Mrs. C texted to see how things were going.

Trini Talk: Stueps (alternate: Steups) - A sound made by sucking one's teeth to express anger, disappointment,  frustration or (in this case) jealousy.

I typed up my article on the car ride back, handed it in and headed home. I finished my day tired and tanned but with a distinct sense of accomplishment after my grueling 5½ hour assignment.

I Survived Carnival 2012! And All I Got Was Partial Hearing Loss.

As I've said before, Carnival here in T&T isn't my thing. Unfortunately, it's a big deal to mostly everyone else so, in the media, it's "all hands on deck!" whether you like it or not.

Monday at 4 am was the official start to things with J'Ouvert. And, wouldn't you know it? I was lucky enough to get that shift. So, leaving my warm bed and loving wife at 2:30 that morning, I journeyed to St. James to spend the next 5 hours watching the seemingly endless masses of people dance in the streets covered in body paint and/or mud and/or chocolate (new this year). Since my phone doesn't do nighttime pictures well I waited until there was some light in the sky to snap a photo.

Nope, not blood. Just paint.

But that's not all. Carnival's main celebrations last two days. So that means, of course, I was out again yesterday. Yesterday was the BIG show: The "Parade of the Bands"! This is when masqueraders are out on the streets in full costume following the incredibly loud, incredibly large Music Trucks.

Yes, those are a shitload of speakers.

As you can guess those things are really loud. Where I was assignred I had to stand about 20 feet from where they set up and, even with ear plugs, I still haven't gotten my full hearing back yet.

There were some interesting displays, though.

Gaaahh!!! Mantisra's attacking!

But that's not all. Do you believe that through it all I had to put up with being surrounded by sights like this all day:

I know, right? Can you imagine? They're called "revellers" and they were everywhere!

You don't want to meet up with them unprepared. They are quite apt at performing the traditional Carnival dance known as "wining", which I believe translates to "impossibly loose waistlines that can rotate in any direction". The female reveller is especially ravenous and looking for any posterior to throw their own posteriors against to"wine" against.

The guy in the hat is my photographer for this assignment.

The average female reveller will wine on anything: Male revellers (preferably), police officers, street signs, onlookers, other female revellers, nothing and no one is out of bounds. Here's a brief clip of them in action (I suggest keeping the volume low. Plus, all the bass from the truck did a number on the sound quality):

One time during the day, I was getting a quote from a spectator and the next thing I know I was totally surrounded by them. Luckily, I managed to get back to the barrier before any gyrating waistlines got me. I was so scared.

I still don't know if my photographer made it out okay. He never came back to the office. Too bad. I liked him.

Today the paper are sending me to the Maracas beach to cover the after-Carnival cooldown concert. It's the most popular spot for revellers to go to continue wearing bikinis and partying for one more day.

Those bastards!

The Adventures Continue.

Wow! I haven't posted all week. Well... here anyway. Hope you guys have been keeping up with me on Sprocket Ink. You know? That place where I post, not once, but twice every week. You do remembered that, right?

We'll discuss this later.

Anyway, moving right along, My absence is due to the fact that I've been really busy. While I have my issues with The Paper, I must admit, I still love the job. Right now, the people of T&T are gearing up for our biggest annual celebration, Carnival. The fact that it's such a huge event here means the media is burning the midnight oil to cover all the events associated with these holidays.

Parties have been going on for the past few weeks but the real deal, the two days of half naked street parades are next Monday and Tuesday, so things are really heating up this weekend.

Now, I said last year around this time that Carnival isn't my thing. Mostly because never really saw the point of it. A lot of people here wouldn't agree with that. They see it as part of local culture. It's one of the most famous events in the world and something we as a nation should be proud of and all that What can I say?  I never was a party person, to be honest.

This is where my being a Christian helps. The whole concept of revelry and drunken debauchery is frowned upon in the Christian faith. Now while I won't jump on my moral high-horse about the evils of this season, I must admit, I kinda see the argument...

Eep! I think it sees me.

So once I say that Carnival doesn't interest me, the first thing I usually hear is, "Oh... Are you a Christian?" I say yes and the discussion usually ends there.

But, my religious beliefs don't save me from having to work covering Carnival events on those two days next week I'd normally be home resting any other year. As well as the events leading up to them. Like today.

Today I covered a children's Carnival parade focusing on the traditional characters that were among the first Carnival characters portrayed in T&T's early history. While I still don't get it, I have to admit, they really are creative. Take the Moko Jumbies, for instance.

These kids walk (and dance) on stilts with no trouble at all. Better than most people walk and dance on their own feet.

Then there's this group of Dame Lorraines.

In case you're wondering, yes they are fake... and children! Shame on you!

They did a choreographed traditional  dance routine (Sorry, couldn't start taping before it ended).

While I was out covering the story, it started to rain so I went into the nearby Woodford Square. There I managed to capture what we call a "Rhythm Section" on video, doing there thing.

We are a creative bunch over here, aren't we? All the same, don't expect me to be crossing over to the dark side as a result of all this. They'll have to try a lot harder.

Did I mention the grown-up version next week will have half-naked women prancing about everywhere? Most of whom have been hitting the gym for months to look right in their skimpy costumes?

Anyway, I'm covering some of the main events on Monday and Tuesday too so you can probably expect more pics and videos.

Weekend Wrap-Up: The Changing Focus.

Bet you thought it would be another 3 months before I did this again, huh? Well, I did create a whole new graphic and everything so I just have to try to put it in circulation from time to time.

So what's been going on with me? Glad you asked!

On Tuesday I announced my new role on Sprocket Ink as Japanese Bikini Model correspondent... At least, I think that's my new title...

Then on Wednesday I shared the truth about was really going on at my new place of employment, The Paper. And it's not good! Thing is I really love the journalist gig but sometimes, as they say, love just ain't enough. I'm torn but I feel a decision needs to be made soon.

Then it was Mrs. C's turn to entertain you in her debut appearance in my stick-toon fantasy world on Thursday. As you can see she can even make killing a cockroach entertaining.

On Tuesday I revealed a startling secret that could shift the world's balance of power if it's left unchecked. IRAN HAS NINJAS!!! I'd say not to panic, but the truth is you should panic. Oh, you should.

Thursday's post was-well-even I'm having a hard time explaining this one. Just make sure the kids/parents/bible study group/pets/cops aren't in the room when you go read this one. You may want to close the curtains too.

I know, right? Now you just *have* to go check it out. But remember, I did try to warn you.

One last thing. Mrs. C has finally caved in to the call of the web and set up a twitter account. It's actually part of a bigger project she's working on but I've been sworn to secrecy on most of it. But rest assured, once the gag-order is removed, you'll be the first to know. In the meantime feel obligated free to show her some love on the twitterverse. Now, I'm not saying I may be rewarded in sexual favors for each new follower she gets, but on the off chance that I will be, you'd actually be helping a brother out.

Just sayin'.

Paranoid Activity.

10:00AM

Editor A: Vinny, Curly called in sick. Want to cover court proceedings?

Me: I don't mind, but someone was supposed to go with me & show me around. Plus, I have an assignment for 11.

Editor A: Oh. We'll see what Editor C can do.

Editor C: Curly called from home already and found out there was nothing important going on in court today.

Editor A: Oh... Well go anyway, Vinny. Just walk and get the layout. You know! Talk to people 'n stuff. You can leave when you have to go to your 11 o'clock.

Me: Um... Ooookay...

While most people would have used this opportunity to go pay a bill or take care of some other errand, I am plagued by...

- Secret Paranoid Suspicion# 23: My employers, past and present, have me under surveillance. They track my every move. -

So, as a result, I spent the 45 minutes that followed that conversation wandering the halls of the courthouse like an idiot.

Since my phone is probably bugged as well, they're probably reading this post I'm typing up on it too.

All of this is normal. Right?

Adventures In Journalism.

I'll say one thing. This job is a real adventure. On any given day, you never know where you'll end up. The other day, I got to go on one of these.

Cool, right?

Then, that same evening I was at a fancy Christmas party for the local architects' association. And of all the people I'd run into there, I met my former nemeses employers, (former) Bossman and (former) Bosslady.

(former) Bosslady played it cool, but (former) Bossman was a little surprised to see me there. I took the high road and refrained from my whole "BOOYAH!!! In your face, motherf*cker!" routine I'd always fantasized about. For good measure I interviewed him too.

Then, earlier this week, I had to go look at a landslide on the north coast heading toward Maracas Bay. I hadn't been in that area in a really long time. When you spend all your time in the mostly built-up areas, you forget just how tropical the tropical island you live on really is.

Then you spend an hour and a half travelling through this.

And you say, "Oh... right..."

It may look scary but it's actually really peaceful and scenic. Actually the photographer who was driving called this stretch the "scenic route". I was so caught up with the view at times I ended up sticking my phone out the photographer's car and snapping pictures like a tourist. In the end we wound up here:

I think I hear dueling banjos. No, wait! This is Trinidad. Maybe dueling steel-pans?

It was still raining and there was a light mist hanging. On one side of the road we had the mountainside rising above us. On the other side was the steep drop where the mountain continued. There was so much water flowing down the mountain from the rains it made a small river flowing down the other side.

I was caught up in the beauty of it all for a bit, but then it occurred to me that all this water could trigger another landslide. Then I wondered if there could be snakes as big as the one in the picture I posted a few days ago. That's when I told the photographer I'd wait in the car.

The next day I was back in the city checking out stores to find out how their Christmas sales were going. And I have no idea where I'll be tomorrow.

It's awesome.