Impromptu friend catch-up and play date turns family dysfunction contemplation time

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The weather was so nice today that I wanted to make sure that Kaia and I got some outdoors time this afternoon. So I took her to Little Engine Playground at Riverside Park and let her blow bubbles and get wet in the sprinklers. While there, my building friend texted to let me know she was going to join us with her son (Chris told her we’d be there). So I had an unexpected friend catch-up this afternoon at the park and at Pier I after. I really enjoyed getting this spontaneous message because I almost never have any impromptu meetups with anyone — ever. In New York, I’ve just never made friends who are that spontaneous. Everything always feels like it needs to be planned in advance. And while I am a planner and do like having meetups on the calendar to look forward to, I also love just randomly deciding to meet someone with zero plans out of nowhere. It seems to be harder to do as people get older, as sad as that is.

I’ve enjoyed getting to know this friend over the last year. In the last several months, she’s definitely become more open in sharing more personal details and opinions she’s had, and I’ve done the same with her. One area we’ve never really talked much about is regarding our parents. I know a lot about her sister, and she knows about Ed and how he passed. But just today, we started talking about my parents because she knows about our upcoming trip to San Francisco to see them. She asked me if I looked at going home as a “vacation.” I probably paused for too long of a time as she immediately knew what the answer was.

As a 40-year-old adult child to my parents, I am clearly no longer a little kid. I have since grown up, had a career, gotten married, and given birth and am raising my own child, and so I’ve had enough life experience of my own to formulate my own world view — and also see exactly how different it is versus my parents’. I recognize they both had hard lives, and the life I have is extremely luxurious compared to anything they had. Their hard lives inform their world views. They both experienced varying degrees of trauma that shaped how they raised Ed and me. I recognize all of that. But my hope and goal is that I do not continue their intergenerational trauma, that it stops with them. I want Kaia to have a very different relationship with me than the one I have with my own mother. I can acknowledge all those things are true, that I love them, but that I have no intention of ever trying harder than I already have to have a better relationship with them. As I learned over the course of multiple years of therapy, it is not my job to fix my parents, to change their disposition, or even to make them happy. They will not change; they are who they are. If they want to wallow in their own misery and legitimate mess of their house, they can do that. I told my friend I go and stay with them for about two weekends and stay at a hotel the rest of the time because their house just is not livable, not enjoyable, not comfortable; this is all done out of obligation. It’s worse than the clutter; it’s just flat out dirty. And they are perfectly fine with that and think that I am the problem when I come.

I still remember the first time I was in therapy, from 2013-2016, and my then-therapist asked me a really simple question: “Do you like your parents?”

I wrinkled my brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s very clear that you love your parents,” she explained. “But do you like them? Like if they were not your parents, could you see yourself willingly going out to have dinner with them and chat? Hang out together? Do you share the same interests, hobbies? Do you enjoy their company?”

This, I did not hesitate to answer. “Oh god, no!” I exclaimed. “Not at all! They are not even remotely fun to be around! We have nothing to talk about! We share none of the same views about anything!”

I didn’t want to freak out my friend and start going on about my parents; it’s probably too much information, too much negativity. I also don’t like going into detail about this sort of thing with Kaia around because she seems to be understanding way more than I want her to at this age now.

“I don’t want to sound terrible,” I said to my friend. “But they’re just… very unpleasant to be around. I hate to say it, but it’s the truth. I just go out of obligation, because I want Kaia to know her maternal grandparents at least a little.”

She looked back at me with sad eyes. “You sound like you try really hard,” she said softly.

Little does she know that as time has gone on, I definitely know I am trying less and less. As I get older, I honestly just care less and less. My patience in dealing with them has worn so thin — after Ed’s death, then after Kaia’s birth and the stupid ways they acted after she was born, and especially when we visited in 2022. I tolerate them in tiny bursts, and then I let them go and lead their own separate abysmal lives. It’s the only way we can feasibly coexist. I’ve made peace with the fact that I will never have the relationship I want with either of them, and it’s definitely not due to lack of previous effort on my part. We can’t always control everything or have every part of our life be the way we want it to be. And growing older makes you come to terms with all of that.

Filming in New York City: The Gilded Age!

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If you are into Hollywood and the entertainment world, New York City is a fun place to live in because there are always TV shows and movies being shot, as well as endless celebrity sightings. Unlike places like Los Angeles, when celebrities are in New York living and doing their thing, people tend to be pretty respectful here and actually let them do their thing (most of the time, anyway). I’ve seen random celebrities in cafes, parks, and even walking down streets in New York, and while heads do turn, people rarely crowd them or rush up to them for autographs.

Chris let me know that on Thursday morning when he took Kaia to school, he noticed rows and rows of trailers lined up on our block just outside our building, and lo and behold, they are filming the next season of The Gilded Age, which we watch! He got to see hoards of actors walking in period costume into the Mandarin Oriental. Unfortunately as I did not leave the building until late afternoon that day, I saw only the trailers with the names of the characters plastered on each of the doors. Even though I usually don’t get to see the scenes being filmed or the actors in their costumes, I still love the fact that I live in a city where so much action happens!

Three weeks ago, we were in Bridgetown, Barbados

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One of Chris’s favorite things to do in speech with me is to tell me that a week ago, we were doing this, or two weeks ago, we were doing that. Today, he said to Kaia and me during dinner, “Just a week ago, we were coming back from Tobago.” The Friday before that, we were in St. Lucia exploring Castries Market and buying lots of local exotic fruit (including three different types of mango!) and enjoying Pigeon Island. And the Friday before that, we had just started our summer trip in Barbados and were enjoying the fish fry scene in Bridgetown, with a super delicious and succulent grilled whole red snapper with lick-your-fingers-good Bajan seasoning. Every year I get older, time seems to move that much more quickly. All these new, fun, happy, learning, cultural, exciting moments seem to come and go just like that. And it further makes me realize how precious all our moments are together, whether that’s exploring a new place, having a meal or bite of something together, or just sitting in the same place at the same time enjoying the exact same thing. While Kaia is 4.5 years old and always wondering when the next thing is happening or, “why are we walking for so long?”, it almost feels sometimes like I am grasping at straws to make these happy moments last longer. It’s like those sentimental sayings and quotes I’ve oftentimes been served since pregnancy and first becoming a mother: sometimes, you just want this moment, this stage, to last forever. But, if it lasts forever, then you never get to enjoy the next great thing that will come!

Time is precious, life is precious, and our moments together are precious and finite. I think about all the experiences I’ve had in my life to date, whether it’s the places I’ve been privileged to go to and see, the foods I’ve eaten, the people I’ve built lasting relationships with, the marriage and life I’ve built with Chris, and having Kaia Pookie as my sweet baby, and I just feel so thankful and so lucky for this life. Life is good. And our memories are sweet.

Peanut punch in Trinidad and Tobago

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When traveling, amongst a whole host of things I love learning is finding out what different foods, drinks, and condiments people love in other cities and countries that are different from what I have been exposed to. Everyone’s “normal” around the world is very different, and it’s fascinating to learn about. Pepper sauce is huge throughout the Caribbean, with different types of peppers and seasoning combinations in every place. In Barbados, one of our Uber drivers told us they have a hot sauce so hot that they use just “one drop” of it on their food, and it’s enough for good flavor AND some heat that will set your mouth on fire. The same driver told us that they have another hot sauce that is glaringly hot that many locals don’t even touch it. Colloquially and locally, they call it… the n-word sauce (I mean, he said it; we didn’t!). While in St. Lucia, we tried a few different restaurant variations of pepper sauce that were both very different from each other, but both with very rich, distinct flavor. And at our Port of Spain, Trinidad hotel, the pepper sauce was FIERY. We asked what peppers were in it, and our server at breakfast said it had scotch bonnets (which we figured) and chocolate moruga peppers, which are one step down from one of the hottest peppers on earth — the scorpion pepper.

One thing I noticed at multiple shops, convenience stores, and supermarkets while in Trinidad was peanut punch. It seemed to be pretty mcuh everywhere, and I even saw some people on the street drinking from containers that had “peanut punch” on the label. So one night when we went out for doubles and quick drinks to take back to the hotel, I grabbed a single-serving bottle of peanut punch just to try it. It tastes like you’d imagine: peanutty and milky, but very, very sweet — almost too sweet! The surprising thing was that there was another ingredient I wasn’t expecting: whey protein powder! It was the fourth ngredient listed on the label after peanuts, water, and sugar. Unfortunately, this is more of a “treat” drink than a body builder or workout fanatic’s drink, as the sugar content is far too high on this to be considered a regular protein drink. But I could see a variation of this (with a fraction of the sugar) being a good protein add in one’s diet. The “high protein” lifestyle is one that I’m slowly but surely adapting to in my 40s, so this is always top of mind for me now even when I’m not vocal about it.

Reflecting on kids clubs at hotels

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The first time I encountered and looked at a kids club was when we stayed at a hotel property in Cancun over an extended Memorial Day weekend in 2023. Kaia was just shy of 1.5 years old then, and it was the first time I ever thought about childcare at a hotel. There is usually a minimum age for kids clubs (age 3 or 4) at hotels that offer them, but I remember wondering if we’d ever use one for Kaia, even if just for an hour or so at some point.

The opportunity presented itself twice at two all-inclusive hotels we stayed at — the first was in Barbados, and the second in Grenada. At both properties on the day I took Kaia in, no other children were there. In Barbados at a sister all-inclusive resort we hung out at for a full day, Kaia refused to let me leave her there, so we ended up playing together while I spoke with the childcare provider. There, she made a little bracelet complete with two “very special” charms that Jengsel, the childcare provider, presented to her: one was a silver seashell, and the second was a little crystal heart with a pink heart inside. Of course, Kaia loved both because she loves shells, hearts, AND the color pink. So she savored this bracelet and kept talking about it.

At the Grenada resort, I actually did bring Kaia there twice on two separate days for about 2-3 hours at a time. There, she was completely comfortable being on her own with the childcare providers. The first childcare provider, Shenique, was the kind of babysitter most parents would dream about: she was extremely hands on, had lots of conversations with Kaia, did multiple activities with her, and gave very frequent Whatsapp reports back to me, complete with photos and videos showing what Kaia was up to. With Shenique, Kaia made another bracelet, one that truly looked like it could have been made professionally and purchased at a boutique. It has beautiful turquoise and orange stone-like beads with silver accents. Kaia loves both and keeps talking about her bracelets from Barbados and Trinidad. And she still mentions Shenique’s name despite their limited time together.

Now that Kaia is older and more verbal, she can always share what she does and what happens with us, so there’s not as big of a mystery of what goes on with babysitters or at kids clubs like this. She genuinely enjoyed her time there, which made me feel good. I was also happy to have the chance to take advantage of “free” babysitting (I mean, is it really “free” if you are paying all-inclusive rates…), even if it was just a couple three-hour bursts. It was a very positive sign to hear that she wanted to go back the second time in Grenada, that this showed what a good time she had and how much she liked the childcare providers. As another childcare provider said at this kids club, “In Grenada, we take good care of our babies here! We love them all!”

Mangoes with black spots = sign of ripeness in other countries, but a sign of rot/”bad” in the U.S.

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One thing I noticed while eating the many varieties of mangoes we were lucky to taste across four Caribbean islands on this trip was that many of them are ripe when they have black spots. This is actually a good thing, not a bad thing: it signals to us that they are ready to eat, and we should eat them right away! This was the case for the Julie and mango longues, and especially true for the starch and dodo mangoes. We got told from multiple vendors, as well as our smoothie guy who gifted us the five cutlass mangoes in Port of Spain, that black spots were a positive thing. The funny thing is that I told Chris that this would absolutely not fly in the U.S. You could never have a display of mostly black spotted mangoes in the U.S. and actually get those to sell — no freaking way!

The strange thing, though, is that black spots with mango varieties readily available in the U.S. — so Ataulfo (champagne, our default from March to June) and Kent — actually are not good when they have black spots. For these two mango varieties that come from Mexico, black spots are a sign that they have really gone bad or are about to go bad. I know this after peeling and cutting hundreds and hundreds of mangoes over the years. Sometimes we don’t monitor the mangoes closely enough, and the black spots appear. And once the spots appear, this is truly a sign of rot. Those parts don’t taste good, or they actually smell off. Some of them become mush in the parts where the black spots are.

The American public is quite superficial when it comes to produce. Everyone wants picture-perfect fruit and vegetables, oftentimes at the expense of taste, flavor, and even nutrition. It’s partly why mainstream supermarket tomatoes look super red and plump but often taste like nothing or are mealy in texture inside. So I doubt that even if Trinidad and Tobago could export mango longue or starch mangoes to the U.S. that they would do well from a sales perspective outside of ethnic markets in neighborhoods with a large Caribbean population. That is sad, a real loss for someone like me who wants every single mango variety possible at the tips of her fingers!

Eating out while in the Caribbean – so many fresh vegetables!

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While we stayed at four different hotels across four different island countries in the Caribbean, and two of the hotels were all-inclusive, I felt like from a vegetable-eating standpoint that this was likely the best trip we’ve had to date for vegetable access. Since we were out and about in Barbados and Grenada where we stayed at all-inclusive properties, we still managed to have some meals out while on the go. In the all-inclusive buffets, it was easy to get vegetables. At the restaurants om property, getting vegetables was straightforward. And with most dining options we had, vegetables were quite ubiquitous. This is always what I’ve enjoyed about dining out while outside of the U.S.: it never feels like vegetables are add-on sides that are terrible value. I guess there are some exceptions to this (while in Taiwan, I do not recall eating many vegetables to be honest; street food in Taiwan is not very vegetable forward!). Vegetables are usually included as side dishes you order. Sometimes, the vegetable options are fixed. Sometimes, the vegetable options are what you choose. And other times, the vegetables are half fixed, half chosen by you. While you may order ginger pork or grilled fish as we did during our one lunch out in Grenada, those mains came with several vegetable options, like stewed pumpkin or callaloo (like Caribbean spinach), bok choy, coleslaw, or taro/sweet potato. I really enjoyed eating all the different vegetables we had across the Caribbean and seeing different preparation methods. Before this trip, I also had no idea how popular sweet potato and pumpkin in general are across these countries. I knew callaloo, taro, and spinach were popular. Potato and coleslaw seemed like predictable dishes to have on menus. But the pumpkin being everywhere was a surprise to me, especially since I consider it a fall/autumn vegetable. So, I’ve definitely learned a lot about Caribbean food culture in the last two weeks.

Whenever we’ve come back from trips where we haven’t eaten too many vegetables, it’s like Kaia just knows that she misses her vegetables and especially her Asian greens, so she physically will stuff her mouth with the greens after I’ve plopped them onto her plate. This is a pattern she’s exhibited since she was very young. But this time after coming home from a trip, she wasn’t really vegetable deprived. I think she had a good share of vegetables across the last two weeks away. Yet still, she quickly gobbled up her roasted bell peppers and blanched bok choy at dinner.

I think the U.S. could learn a lot from other countries around the world about a lot of things. But specifically from these four Caribbean nations, the U.S. can learn to stop having menus with mains that are just a single thing (e.g. pasta, steak, a quarter of a roasted chicken) without also including vegetable sides — and have that be included in the freaking price. Stop up-charging for vegetables and just have them built into the main price!

A connecting flight went awry from MIA to JFK

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From Port of Spain, we flew to Miami for our connecting flight back to New York. In Miami, we cleared immigration, gathered our checked bags, re-submitted our checked bags, and went through security. The line was actually much quieter than we had anticipated, likely because we were there on the 4th of July. So while it was annoying to have to clear immigration and get and re-check our bags, at least we knew we wouldn’t have to do this again once we reached New York.

The connecting flight from MIA to JFK was smooth… or at least, it was smooth until we were circling New York, and then the pilot announced that due to inclement weather (WHAT WEATHER?), no planes were allowed to land at JFK, and instead of circling the airport to wait on landing clearance, they were going to fly us straight back to Miami!

When I first heard the pilot say this, my first (usual) thought was, “Is this some crazy joke?!” But of course, it wasn’t. We were seriously going to fly all the way back to Miami and wait to see when the “weather concerns” cleared up so that planes could land.

This could have ended really badly; I had worst case scenarios circling in my head about what I’d have to do for work and when. We could have never even made it to New York on Sunday or even Monday depending on the weather/airport/landing situation. But luckily for us, while we were still in the air going back to Miami, the pilot announced that we could go back and land. So the plan was to land the plane, re-fuel, inspect the plane, and then immediately fly back. The flight crew would remain in tact, as their day started with us, so there was no concern about timing out. If we chose to get off the plane, we’d have to take all our belongings and get off, and would not be allowed to re-board and take this flight back to New York.

We were schedule to land just before 1am on the 5th of July. In the end, we flew to New York, turned around to fly back to Miami. We stayed in Miami for about 30 minutes before getting back into the air and flying back to JFK (Chris noted that this in-air time already exceeded our flight from Trinidad to Miami!). We landed just after 5:30am. So yes, while we were delayed 5.5 hours, this easily could have been so, so much worse. Chris and I didn’t sleep at all; Kaia slept, but her slumber was obviously disrupted.

We got back home, unpacked, and did three loads of laundry. We tried to sleep, but Kaia made it a bit challenging (“WHY ARE YOU SLEEPING! I don’t want you to to sleep! I want you to take me out to blow bubbles!” — says the person who actually slept in flight…). I did sleep for about an hour. I took Kaia out for bubbles and playground time (it was deserted; what a quiet time to be in the city!). I made a full home-cooked meal for us — niku udon loaded with veggies and roasted broccoli with shio kombu. I also steamed banh chung from the freezer and roasted red bell peppers. I started food prep for tomorrow by soaking two types of beans, brown rice, and quinoa. Although we’ve had an amazing time being away the last two weeks, I will say that I was happy to be back in my own bed tonight, and happy to be back in my kitchen.

Orange-winged amazons outside our window in Port of Spain; warnings around the world from well-meaning older ladies

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Today was our last morning in Trinidad and Tobago, as well as our last day of this trip before flying home. From our hotel window, I watched as many orange-winged amazons flew in pairs around the large trees along Queen’s Park Savannah. From what I can remember, this is likely the most fascinating bird watching area of the world I’ve ever been in. I’ve already lost count of the number of different, colorful, and gorgeous bird species I’ve been lucky to see here. Even Kaia has gotten into it: she also loved watching the orange-winged amazons fly around in Port of Spain. In Grenada, she pointed out new birds she noticed. And just two days ago, she excitedly pointed out a little kiskadee, which is considered the best known bird of Trinidad.

“It’s yellow! It’s yellow!” Kaia kept shrieking delightfully.

Kaia noticed the little kiskadee because of its bright yellow breast. It had a black and white streaked face with a brown back. These birds are known to be very loud chirpers and have fearless behavior; it didn’t seem to mind us being so close. I’m not that excited to go back to New York and mostly see pigeons and seagulls again — the freaking rats and roaches of the bird world. I suppose the sparrows and the occasional American robin are fine.

We had limited time in the morning before we had to head to the airport, so we took a quick trip to Charlotte Street, the main drag of Port of Spain Chinatown, to browse and also finally buy a magnet for this segment of our trip. Saturday morning is a great time to be in Port of Spain Chinatown, as all the fruit and vegetable vendors have their little stalls set up so you can buy their fresh produce. Lots of people were walking the streets to buy food; it felt like we may have been the only tourists there. We saw piles and piles of scotch bonnets, pimento peppers, papayas, multiple mango varieties, and other fresh fruit and vegetables waiting to be purchased. I crossed a street to take a look at a bakery I noticed, and as I was leaving the bakery, an older Trini woman, likely in her late 60s, stopped me and got close to my face.

“I’m a Trini woman, born and raised here,” the older lady started with me. “And I can tell you that these streets are not safe for someone like you. Why are you here? There are other places for you to go and see!”

I have lost count of the number of times I’ve been stopped by well meaning older women who tell me that I shouldn’t be in a certain area, with my phone or camera in my hand. They’ve told me that I should stay and walk close to my husband, that someone will easily hurt or rob me in a given place.

“Why am I here?” I wrinkled my brow at her. “I wanted to come see the fruit! What’s wrong with this area? I am perfectly fine!”

“You want to buy fruit? Then you should go down that street over there!” She responded, pointing out Independence Square. There were very, very few fruit vendors on that next street…

I told her I was walking across the street, and she said that she would walk with me. I had no idea what she wanted from me and why she was being so forceful. When she saw that I was meeting Chris and Pookie, she started telling Chris to not let me walk on my own, to always stay close to me, that it was dangerous to let me walk by myself along that street. Chris insisted to her that I was fine and everything was good. She finally relented and walked off.

I know all these ladies around the world mean well. But what they may not realize they could be doing is inadvertently perpetuating the potential perceived notions of their countries being dangerous places to be or visit. That’s not really a great way to market your town or country.

Day trip via ferry to Tobago; reflecting on cultural differences with respect to “dinner”

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We woke up at 4am to catch a 6:30am ferry from Trinidad to Tobago today. The ferry ride is approximately three hours, and with a scheduled 4pm ferry ride back to Trinidad, we really only had about 4.5 hours on the quiet island of Tobago before going back. Chris figured that since we were already in this part of the world that we might as well just go since we were already here. Unfortunately for Chris, no Marriott hotels are currently on Tobago, as the hotels I could see during our time there and on the map all look to be local/independent places. Despite our time being short there, it was nice to have some beach time at the beach there, with its teeny tiny waves, extremely clear, turquoise waters, and tiny little silver fish swimming around at less than waist-level deep water. We decided to base ourselves at Store Bay Beach rather than Pigeon Point Heritage Park because we wanted more local food with a local feel. Store Bay has a a cluster of tiny buildings selling full meals, juices, snacks, ice cream, and clothing, whereas Pigeon Point, which requires an entry fee, is more resort-like and manicured as such. At Store Bay, we sat down and ate a small meal of blue crab curry and dumplings with provisions and some fried shark. The blue crabs were predictably teeny tiny and very not satisfying given it was so much work to get the little meat, but it was still fun to have the experience of eating the local dish here that Tobago is known for.

While on the beach, we paid a local vendor for some lounging chairs and an umbrella. The vendor was so nice that he took a quick drive back to his house and picked us some chenet fruit, also known to us as mamoncillo that we had while in Colombia and El Salvador. These were by far the sweetest of the three times we’ve enjoyed this tropical fruit; both other times, it was more sour-sweet. These were so sweet that they were like fruit candy! This time, Kaia was old enough to handle sucking around the big round gum-ball like pit (major potential choking hazard for littles!), and she got to try one. She didn’t seem to enjoy it too much, though; I think she thought it was too much sucking for very little reward… which is kind of true with this fruit, especially since you have to pick the thin skin off it before sucking the gelatinous pink flesh off the pit.

We arrived back in Port of Spain just after 7pm, and I was going through my list of restaurants on my map when I realized that pretty much none of them served dinner; every place I bookmarked was for breakfast or lunch. And then it dawned on me that Trinidad likely doesn’t really have much “going out” dinner culture, as most of the iconic Trini foods are daytime foods, like doubles, roti, bake, aloo pie, roti shop curries, macaroni pie. Doubles is usually a breakfast/early day food, but as we saw our first full day, it can also appear later at night after partying, when people set up their trucks and sell it on the street. There was one Trini fusion dinner place that Claude recommended when I was doing research, but unfortunately that place has since closed down. So we figured that in Trini culture, “sit down restaurant dinners” aren’t really a thing. It’s an interesting thing to think about when traveling — the cultural differences across the world with dining practices and times. In Trinidad, a sit-down dinner in general isn’t really part of the social rhythm. But then if you are in places like Argentina, Chile, or Spain, an 8pm dinner is considered too early, and some places may not even be open for food!

When there are restaurants open in Port of Spain, they tend to skew more “restaurant/bar” rather than traditional Trini. Or, they are not Trini restaurants. So it’s common to see French, Italian, Japanese, or Chinese restaurants open for dinner. But if a restaurant has Trini food, it’s usually just part of the menu (that is quite eclectic with other options like wings, tacos, etc.), and also has a big bar scene. So we ended up back on Ariapita Avenue and chose a casual bar-type spot called Wing It, where we had some grilled fish and jerk chicken alongside some drinks. It was quite loud and boisterous in there, with a World Cup match on the big TVs and lots of loud soca music. This was Kaia’s first “night out” on the town — at age 4.5! She seemed to love the vibe overall despite it being quite loud for her little ears.

And just like that, our Caribbean island hopping trip is coming to an end. I can’t remember ever having this much tropical fruit, crazy mango variety, sun, and beach time in a single trip before this! I could get used to this!