Travel Chronicles

Now I am no travel expert but I have been to some pretty unusual and awesome places, let me say again for people who have not heard it before; I am not rich, at least not yet but I do think happiness is buying a plane ticket and travelling to a great destination. So even though I am not rich yet I have experienced happiness and let me tell you there is nothing that can compare to or adequately describe this feeling. I have had some great experiences and met some pretty interesting people on my travels and I plan to share it with you. Maybe you will laugh, maybe you will cry or maybe you will feel compelled to save some money and do what I do, pick a destination, buy a ticket and  live like there is no tomorrow.

I love travelling well not exactly the plane ride sometimes that can be tedious; I just like arriving at the destination, especially if the arrival is thousands of miles away from the departure. I have never flown first class well except for the time when a lesbian tried to seduce me and I had to be hidden in first class but that is a different story.  I cannot afford a first class ticket and even if I could I do not know if I would waste money to purchase one, we all leave at the same time and we all arrive at the same time. The only difference is those in first class get to go on and get off the plane before the others. I must admit though that there are sometimes I envy these people the extra leg room or the nice things they get up front. That is why often times I like to hit them with my bag as I am passing, then I will smile  sweetly and say “ oh my God I am so sorry” when I am really not sorry, serves you right to want to go in first. I especially do his to the ones who turn up their nose while I am passing looking at me struggling with my bags like a peasant.

The longest I have ever flown for is two and a half days to get from Jamaica to Malaysia, just remembering this experience makes me want to lay down and cry. What made it worst was that my period was just about to begin, fyi I am one of those people who have horrible periods, I know a few of you women who  can relate.  Some of you may think I am an alien for saying this but I hate the smell of coffee, it has this awful nauseating smell that makes me just turn up my nose and want to gag. During my period it gets worst I smell it and I instantly want to faint, I want to throw up and I get headaches. You do not want to feel like this sitting in a cramped space between two people on a eleven hour plane ride; on those long flights the air hostess will pass fifty times asking if you want coffee or tea and it seems everybody always ask for coffee except for me. There are times I want to scream “ for God sakes stop serving fracking coffee” but I don’t because my mother grew me up as a lady;and of course I do not want them to think I have gotten crazy and lock me in an asylum upon arriving so I sit and suffer in silence and in my mind I curse all the evil people around me who sit and drink the nasty looking liquid in contentment.

On one of these flights which lasted fifteen hours, yes you read right fifteen hours; I was the only black person on board and as you can imagine people stared. So I just wanted to be left to myself but when my period is upon me aside from wanting to throw up all the time I tend to also want to use the bathroom quite often. Not just to do number one but also number two, I sat in the window seat beside an old German lady and her husband and I can bet by the end of the ride they hated me. Almost every half an hour I had to mumble “excuse me”
to visit the loo, sometimes it hurt my soul to have to shake them awake just to pass, it got so bad that I offered to take the aisle seat but they just smiled and told me it was ok. Those two old people with the strange name that I cannot remember were really wonderful, I would have liked very much if they were my grandparents. I can bet they are the type of grandparents that give you loads of money and food when you go to visit them, not like my grandmother who if you ask to borrow a hundred Jamaican dollars ( one usd). She will start to tell you how she moved from Manchester to city Kingston when she was sixteen and how hard she had to work, by the time the story is finished, you are no longer interested in the money and you feel ashamed that you didn’t begin to work at sixteen.  Well let me get back to the story, so there I was having to go to the bathroom all the time, fyi the bathroom was down a flight of stairs thanks to Lufthansa huge planes (they are literally the best airlines I have ever flown with, try them!) and the lines for the bathroom were quite long, so when you went inside you didn’t wish to stay too long for fear of them knowing you are doing a number two nor do you wish to leave a scent. Therefore what I did was wait until I really had to go then I would rush into the line and as I arrived inside the bathroom it would just come out. Of course I had a body splash that I put inside my bosom so when I was finished I took it out and sprayed it around so the person going after me wouldn’t come out and tarnish my reputation. Please note that for me airplanes are not so great to defecate in, when I am at my house I like to carry a book or my phone, lay my tissue and spend hours. This is not the case on a plane when you know people are waiting on you, you have to just hurry and do your business and get out and please do not get me started on flushing; there are times I have pressed that little button until I am purple in the face and the darn thing won’t make that whooshing sound and go down. That happened to me one time when I did a number two (seems that’s all I ever do on planes doesn’t it?)  Anyway it was the same fifteen hour flight and there I was despairing and about to burst in tears because it wouldn’t go down, finally after about three minutes of pressing it finally did. When I looked it was only some of it, there were still little splashes on the sides, I was mortified, I tried to press again but it wouldn’t flush and I couldn’t leave it, I was the only black person on the plane, the person who came after me would know and then I imagined they would spread it around and then I would be known as Shitty Willy (the name we called my little cousin because she wouldn’t stop doing it on herself) and of course my ancestors wouldn’t be proud that I embarrassed heir good name in such a manner . I am going to tell you what I did and  if you ever ask me about this or say anything to anyone I know I am going to vehemently deny  it I swear to the old Gods and the new. I wrapped my hand in almost a roll of tissue and I wiped all around in the toilet then I threw it in the bin.  I then washed my hands, took out my bath and body works and did my usual spraying, I felt a bit  ashamed but me and my ancestors reputation were intact and that was something to be proud of.

I have met and formed bonds with so many people while travelling, some of them I am still friends with, some I just hold on to the memories. There are people like Linda the beautiful African girl I met in Frankfurt who told me how to act when I felt uncomfortable being stared at; she was working in the airport but she sat and talked to me for hours, she said I was the nicest person she had ever met while working and I was quite pleased to have made her happy, she recently sent me her marriage photos and invited me for a visit. Then there is tramit, the Turkish man who I am ashamed to say convinced me that the Arab man I was conversing with was carrying a bomb. We were running up and down in the airport like headless chickens in fear of the man’s briefcase and how could I forget the Italian man I never got his name who saw I was in pain and uncomfortable sitting beside him. He told me to take off my shoes, and then he placed my feet on his lap and massaged them until I fell asleep. It must have been quite uncomfortable for him to have my feet in his lap but he didn’t complain once, at the end of the ride I thanked him very much, he nodded and left, he never knew my name  nor did I know his  but wherever he is in this world I hope God blesses him. I have met so many other people who have impacted my life in so many ways but I will tell you about it next time for now its toodles and thanks for reading.

Written and Copyrighted by Aneisha A. Smith March 17, 2017

posted from Bloggeroid

The First Stone

He walked along the street in a daze, he was hungry, he hadn’t eaten in three days. He looked at Mr John’s shop with longing, he walked up the three steps and banged on the counter, “Serve” he yelled; Mr John came hustling from the back, “you come to pay me my money?” he asked

“No sir I don’t have it, I was just wondering if you can trust me some things until weekend, please sir hungry a kill me”

“how you going to pay me on weekend if  you can’t pay me now?”

I get a work up at the construction site” he lied “on weekend they going to pay me and then I will pay you”

“Hear what tell the foreman to come see me if he says you work there, I give you the grocery. What you don’t understand is that I cannot go over the wholesale to Mr Chin and tell him to give me things on credit so if you don’t pay me my business break down.”

“ ok Mr. John I going to tell the foreman to come see you “

“okay son”

He left the shop and walked in the direction of the Construction site where they were building a house. He would ask for a job there, he could dig and  carry water or blocks, he would do anything they told him to; he needed the money and he needed food.
He saw two men on the outside of the building mixing cement “ where is the foreman?” he asked them “ him not here today you know young bwoy you have to come early in the morning him passing through tomorrow”

“ you know if him want anybody to work?” the man stopped and wiped sweat off his brow”

“ I don’t have a clue, I see two young person like yourself come today but him turn them back so try you luck , maybe you can carry sand, you strong?”

“ yes sah, I can work man right now I will do anything time hard”

“well as I say come tomorrow, I will put in a word for you cause you look honest  but no bother disappoint me.”

“Thank you sah, thank you” he looked with longing at the half loaf of hardough white bread that the man had on a block beside him he wished he could get even a small piece just to get the bitter taste out of his mouth but he was afraid to beg. He turned and walked away, “alright tomorrow” he said in parting “tomorrow” the man replied.

It was still a couple hours before dark, he didn’t know what else to do, and he hoped the foreman would pity him on the morrow and give him the job. He would clean the man shoes or wash his clothes if he asked him to. He couldn’t go home, he couldn’t face them and he had promised he would return with food but he didn’t have it. To go home and to see the disappointment on their faces would break his heart. Before he left he had built a fire outside and boiled some mint, she had drunk it greedily even though it had no sugar. His son had sucked at her breast and had cried because she wasn’t producing enough milk to sustain him, he had wanted to cry himself but he couldn’t give in to despair. He had given her the small orange he had found on the side of the road, it was battered as if it had fallen from someone’s shopping bag and they had just left it there. It wasn’t much to look at and was probably sour but she had taken it with glee and kissed him “thank you” she said “I can keep it for lunch.” His heart had overflowed with love it was then he made the promise “things will get better Kaydian, I am going to find a work today, I won’t come back unless I have food, when I working I can give you and Bob a whole lotta nice things and take us outta poverty. I can buy a two burner stove and a fridge and zinc for the roof, can even buy some ply board and whole heap of food ” she believed in him, she had looked at him with pride shining in her eyes knowing he would come through and make her life better.

It was dark now; he stood at the side of the road and wondered if he could perhaps sleep there until the morning or perhaps maybe the construction site was empty. It was an unfinished house but it had a roof he could sleep under until the foreman came.

No one was there, he jumped the wall and found a cosy corner to lay into, his mother when she was  alive had told him once that angels fed you when you slept he hoped that was really the case because he didn’t wish to die of hunger in his sleep.

Angry words woke him “hey what you doing in here?” somebody shouted he threw off the old cement bags he had used to cover himself and got up to explain but the man had already ran outside “ Thief! Thief” the man shouted “thief in Mr Crenshaw house Thief!” the boy ran outside “no please no I am not a thief” but his words were drowned by the angry mob that had gathered at the man’s calling. Suddenly a stone fell upon him, he raised his hands in surrender and tried to back away but the crowd hemmed him in, he tried to speak but they didn’t listen as they continued to throw stones.  They pelted him until his hands could no longer raise, he lay on the ground, blood streamed from cuts all over his body and his eyes stared lifelessly into the sky. “All thieves must dead” one person said

“What him thief?” another person asked

“ I don’t know but him look like a thief, look what him have on cut off foot shorts and tear up shirt”

“  a true whole a them is thieves all a them fi dead the Bible say all thieves must die ” they took pictures and videos and uploaded it unto social media labelling him a criminal, it was shared thousands of times with people commenting that it was good that the thief was dead one less person to worry about in Jamaica. It was passed around with glee his death celebrated like it was a joyous wedding; they speculated and made up stories and tarnished his reputation, he died the way he had never lived and the people who killed him and shared his pictures millions of times didn’t even know his name.

John 8:7 :  so when they continued asking him. He lifted up himself and said unto them, he that is without sin among you let him first cast a stone.



Written and copyrighted by Aneisha A. Smith
February 2, 2017

B positive :)

 

 

I happened to bump into an old friend recently we had not seen each other since graduating high school a couple years earlier. I asked how life was treating her and she proceeded to tell me of all the misfortunes that had befallen her; she had no source of employment, rent was high,the government were thieves, she didnt know how her son would attend school in the new year,there was no hope for mankind and on and on she went. Listening to this young woman, depressed me I could not wait to get away from her and the hopeless conversation, for my positivity and words of hope just fell upon deaf ears.

 

On January 1, 2017 everyone got a clean slate, a chance to begin anew, to make right all the things they got wrong in 2016. New years day is very much like getting the opportunity of a lifetime, you find you had a book before that you messed up terribly and you wonder how can you are going to fix things, how can you make it right, when along comes new years day and hands u a brand new book with all the pages empty. you get to put your own words in them, to rewrite your story, its a chance to fix it, a chance to make it a great book.

 

Make a realistic resolution and stick to it, if your goal is to loose weight, get a picture of your ideal weight, tack it unto your walls so each morning you awake you get motivated, write a diet plan, excercise regularly,bring your own healthy lunch to work and ask your friends to help you not to deviate. Most people abandon their resolutions before six months of the year is out, do not be one of them, if you stick to your guidelines you will be happier by the end of the year and will realise in the end that it was all worth it.

 

Do not bring the previous mess along with you into the New Year! Leave the dead weight behind. Carrying the mess over will be like walking around with a noose around your neck waiting to be hanged. With that said anything that happened in the past cannot be changed, undone or forgotten however learn a lesson from it and move on. Everything which happens in your life will end with morale, take the morale and run with it and try not to make the same mistakes twice. There can be no sustainable growth without honest reflection and introspection.

 

Do not be like my previous classmate and walk around with a bunch of negativity swirling around in your head. Some of you may have lost sources of employment; you may have lost friends or  even a family member, that does not give you the right to walk around in a world of depression. Cancel every curse and negative word, chase the negative committee out of your head. Learn that life can be short sometimes you need to stop analyzing the past and stop planning the future, laugh when you can and let go off what you cant change. Have a positive outlook on life, declear to the universe that prosperity and happiness is your birthright. The way you start 2017 can affect your whole year; begin with a great attitude, calmness of mind and gratitude that you made it alive. Take this inspirational quote and make it one of your guidelines for this New Year “don’t start your
day with the broken pieces of yesterday, everyday is a fresh start, everyday is a new beginning. Every morning we wake up it’s the first day of our new life" Happy new year make the most of it.

 
Written and copyrighted by Aneisha A.  Smith December 30, 2016.
First published in yaadi style magazine.