“Ever since I left Trinidad at age 13 to live with my grandparents in New York, I’ve had this dream. I didn’t want to go abroad in the first place and I promised myself that I would come back.” Twenty-nine years later, Donna’s dream finally materialised; in December of 2002, she relocated to Trinidad.

Speaking to me on the telephone the day before I met her, she said, “I would like you to see my Trini room. For years I was designing and building this in my mind, always conscious of my country thousands of miles away.” She lives at St John’s Road, St Augustine. Curiosity gave way to admiration as I entered the ‘Trini Room,’ at first struck by the curtains frantically billowing in the easterly wind, custom made valances fashioned like a TT flag. A guided tour of the room reveals a black leather reclining sofa strategically placed in front of a black entertainment centre with surround sound television, DVD and stereo. Her husband’s musical instruments are neatly tucked away to one side. A black massage chair and rocking chair stood side by side. But the major showpiece is the large kitchen in a red, white and black theme.

Flaming red tiled countertops and island, with cupboards and appliances in contrast with the black furniture, exhibit the colours of the national flag. Red and black dinnerware adorns the glass-front overhead cupboards. A small white table has settings for two — red and black dinnerware on Trinidad flag placemats, with matching napkins. Even the light switches in this room are red and white. To complete this patriotic d?cor, Donna has paintings of early Trinidad life dotted along the walls of the room. How did she conceive such an interesting idea? “I love to entertain. Usually when I have company, my kitchen cannot accommodate everyone. Or I am alone in the kitchen while others are everywhere else. I wanted a room where everything could take place, where everyone could be at the same time. The basic thing is that I can be in the kitchen by myself and be entertained by the television or music or whatever, or have a bunch of people in my kitchen. I just love this room as I love my country and so I combined them both. The room has an ‘aaah’ moment for me every time I enter; I am happiest in this room because it’s a dream that materialised, you understand? I can’t express to you how much I love this room,” she exudes.

For over 17 years, Donna taught grades one through six in conventional and Montessori schools in Miami, working with the children of young teenagers in inner city schools. She resigned in frustration when she recognised that her role had gradually become more of babysitter than teacher. For the next year — 1997 to 1998 — she worked with her husband in a Florida state programme called ‘WAGES’ an acronym for Work and Gain Economic Self-Sufficiency. This programme, still in operation, trains welfare recipients and helps them to find jobs; its purpose is to wean them away from the concept of simply waiting to receive a welfare cheque. She then became involved with Miami Rivers of Life, a non-profit organisation funded by Florida State under the Justice Department. During that year, 1998-1999, Donna opened her home to young males, who, because of domestic environment and lack of supervision, were caught in small acts of misdemeanour. While waiting to go to court to face the charges laid against them, Miami Rivers of Life put them up in homes where they would not be exposed to the same situation that precipitated their legal violations in the first place. During this time, most of those youths were rehabilitated under the close scrutiny and care of people like Donna and other members of the organisation.

Donna proudly shows letters of commendation and appreciation she received from families of patients afflicted with Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s diseases for whom she cared. The last such patient was in the Bahamas. She shows her photo album with pictures of the limousine in which she was driven to the airport in West Palm Beach and the small airplane in which she was flown to the island for all her trips there. Soon after completing this one-year contract last year, she packed her bags and finally fulfilled her lifelong dream of returning to Trinidad. A cheerful individual, Donna’s exuberance overflows: “I lived for six years in New York and another 23 years in Miami but my thoughts were always on ‘home.’ My house was always Trini conscious, I am a Trini to the bone. Home is where the heart is and my heart was always here. I cannot emphasise how much I love my country and our flag.” I step out of this lovely ‘Trini room,’ perpetually cooled by the strong winds rushing through the open windows and accompanied by bright sunlight, which together make it ideal for solitude yet simultaneously quite accommodating to social entertaining. As I step into the heat and humidity of the outside atmosphere, I understand Donna’s love for her special room — her dream come true.

Anthony and Bernard are talking gibberish. Or rather they’re shouting full-volume, their voices roaring across the rolling sea. “Red and black wahoo candy!” laughing manically, in a Trinidadian accent so strong it might as well be the world’s most incomprehensible patois. For a long time there has been silence, broken only by the tearing wind. Then, suddenly a sharp whirring noise and a line unravelling into the deep: the cue for celebration.

“Oh, man, red and black wahoo candy, yeah!” I don’t know what they mean, in fact I haven’t got the slightest clue, but then there’s no time to think. I’m in the hot-seat on Radical, a 36ft fishing boat, holding on for dear life to a fishing rod that is flexing so much it seems sure to break. Eye-blinding sweat is racing down into my shades, my arms are giving way and something nasty has happened to my back. Whatever is on the end of the line, like British politician Peter Mandelson, it is a fighter, not a quitter.

Bernard, the owner of the boat, has put his rum and coke down to give me some real-time fishing lessons. Which is just as well, because I am a deep-sea fishing virgin and have no idea what I’m meant to be doing. “Hold on, pull it up, nice and slow on the downstroke, reel him in quick, take in the slack, then back again.” It sounds like good advice, but I’m flailing around, out of control, trying to bring in what is obviously going to be a record-breaking catch. “Keep going, he’s going to fight you all the way. We got a saying in Trinidad. The hook is in his mouth, not yours. He’s the one in pain, so don’t kill yourself.” Eventually, after what seems like a couple of hours but is probably no more than 10 minutes, my quarry is at the back of the boat, still resisting furiously in the water. The two men take a spear-hook, lean over the frothing ocean and haul in the giant. It flaps wildly on the deck, splashing us in a swelling pool of blood, fighting to the end. “Wahoo, man! Congratulations, you got your first saltwater fish. Don’t go near it, it’s got teeth like razor blades.”

Bernard hoses down the deck like the most house-proud housewife, an incongruous sight in such a large man, then arms himself with a metal baseball bat, taps the wahoo on the head several times, and the fight is over. I’m swelling with pride. Still at last, the fish looks enormous. “It’s a small one,” says Anthony. “Forty pounds.” Order is restored, the deck is cleaned, the fish pushed down into a hatch. After replacing the bait — a long-billed pinfish — on one of the five lines, Bernard tosses over a beer, fixes himself another rum and coke, and smiles in the sun. “Fishing was fixed in my marriage contract,” he says, reaching easily, every inch the languid Trinidadian. “Fishing every Saturday, no questions asked. I can’t remember the last weekend I didn’t go out.” His passion — less tolerant spouses would call it an obsession — doesn’t seem to have done the relationship any harm. He’s been married 23 years.

On the radio, cricket news fades into calypso as we power through the water, the mountain shadows of the Venezuelan coast looming just seven miles away. The Trinidadian idol David Rudder is singing his latest tune, “Trini 2 de bone,” a rousing number that perfectly encapsulates this island nation’s fantastic patriotism. “Sweet, sweet T and T Trinidad and Tobago, caman and big up de country!” he roars, and Bernard lifts another glass of rum and coke in support. Along with oil and gas, self-confidence is the one commodity this country does not lack. David Rudder is by no means alone in suggesting “God is a Trini.” We have been out for several hours now, and it is time to turn the boat around and make for home. Then the ripping noise again. Spinning line. A blur of movement and back into the hot-seat. “Red and black wahoo candy, man, one for de road, one for de road!”

Bernard is on fire. The two men may have been doing this for years but their excitement seems greater even than my own. They’re a pair of overgrown boys. Another frantic struggle and this time my arms and back give way simultaneously. Skin is flaying off my finger and thumb. I recall my earlier question to Anthony — “Once the fish is hooked, what’s so hard about reeling him in?” — and with a profound sense of committing a terrible dishonour to the deep sea fishing community, I hand over to Bernard who effortlessly brings in a 30lb tuna. It lies on the deck, fat and still, a large liquid eye staring inscrutably skywards. “It’s a beautiful fish,” says Bernard. Pelicans glide overhead, plunging steeply into the ocean to make their own, more elegant, catches in enormous pouched bills. Sunspots glitter on the ocean like splashing rain. A fin appears, then two, three, and in an instant we are joined by scores of dolphins, synchronised swimmers porpoising joyously through the water only inches from the prow. Afternoon is giving way to evening and the sun is oceanbound on the horizon. We plough through the waves back towards Crews Inn, popularly known as “Stick City” on account of the thousand or so yachts that fill its marinas. My arms are aching, my back has had it, in fact I’m completely wiped out, but it has been the best afternoon I can remember. As we drift into the marina, Bernard tells me the “red and black wahoo candy” he was shouting about refers to the coloured lure attached to the bait. Interesting, but I’m too tired to take it in. I’ve caught two fine fish and that’s all I care about. And besides, there’s a margarita on the beach to look forward to, and Catch of the Day for dinner.

Her smile lights up the room. She exudes positive vibrations. She is Ena Maraj, 44, of Pasea Road, Tunapuna — a woman who is brave enough to get into an arena dominated by men. The arena is Ramayan Reading. The Ramayan is a religious text of Hindus which was brought to the country by the indentured labourers 158 years ago. This task was done by the Brahmin race (high caste) of India. And only men were allowed to go behind the Ramayan and read and explain. 

The art of singing the Hindi words of the Ramayan, explaining in English, then drawing the relevant reference that applies to everyday living is difficult. Ena believes that she has been given a gift from God that enables her to deliver discourses from the Ramayan with ease. “I am reading the Hindi words and explaining to my listeners and sometimes the words just come to me from no where. I am able to reach the young people and get their attention. This to me is amazing,” she said with a radiant smile which she maintained throughout the interview with People.

Reminiscing about the early days she was always a religious-minded person as a child growing in the village of Red Hill, D’abadie. Her parents Mr and Mrs Ajodyha Ramkissoon were religious people and Ena followed their footsteps. All her devotion as a child must have paid off as she sits comfortably behind the huge Ramayan text and can easily read and explain the most difficult words of the text. This is a task attempted by those who spend many years learning and studying the scriptures in India. Ena was married 20 years ago and is the mother of three children: Davindra, Anita and Naridra. Her eldest son, Davindra has also taken the religious path in life and is now a practising pundit.

This, Ena is very proud of. Again, she attributes her successful family life to the devotion she did and continues to do on a daily basis. She explained that it was after her children grew up that she had the time to pursue the singing of religious songs properly. “Many people would say that I have a beautiful voice. They would invite me to sing at home functions such as the birth of a child, weddings and anniversaries. And I would go with the hope of bringing joy and happiness to the people at the function,” she said.  Although she had good command of the Hindi language having learnt from her parents, Ena enrolled at the Kewley Street School in Tunapuna to pursue Hindi. She learnt from the well-known Hindi tutor, Professor Timal. Within a short time Ena became proficient in Hindi. She then went on to study the Ramayan from Pundit Deosaran Sharma and Kumar Sammy also of the El Dorado Shiv Mandir. She also picked up the dhantal (steel instrument made to accompany the hand drums) and the majeera (a brass instrument) and she quickly mastered them.

In introducing her to the temple members, Pundit Deosaran noted that Ena impressed everyone with her quick grasp of the Hindi language, plus her ability at public speaking and singing bhajans. Ena is now contacted to read and explain the words of Ramayan in scores of homes throughout the country. Her favourite part of the Ramayan is Lanka Kaan, where Lord Hanuman was brought down from the skies by Bharat. She noted that by merely waving a blade of kush grass, Bharat was able to summon the attention of Hanuman. “It shows that Bharat had immense love, devotion and faith that he conquered Hanuman and was able to understand about his elder brother Rama who was at the time living in the forest.”

Ena has found herself counselling many people who come to her for advice. “I am always willing to reach out to people who have lost their way in life. I believe if there is something that I could say or do to put them back in the right frame of mind then I have accomplished the greatest goal,” she said. She encouraged the younger people to go back to God and offer prayer on a daily basis and they will witness a change in their lives. “Everyone is hungering for happiness. The real happiness is finding peace within your own person. To find that your inner strength and peace, one must connect with God. It is perhaps the only way to find true happiness,” she said. She noted that finding God is like finding the light that will take you through the world of darkness. “Whether you are a Christian, a Muslim or a Hindu, you must have that moment alone to connect with God. That moment brings about a certain strength that only surfaces in time of difficulty,” she said. For the future Ena would like to record some of her discourses to be marketed to the people throughout the world who needs spiritual guidance. She would like to see more women folk coming to the fore and reaching out to the less fortunate in society.