Barnes, Johnny Barnes

For many, Friday signals the weekend, a break from a work week that for some may be hellish. Let's face it, not everyone likes their job, some even loathe it. That Confucius saying: 'Do what you love and you will never work a day in your life'? Yeah, that may apply to only a minuscule of a population. However much you dread your job, can't stand to work with the people around you, cringe at the very thought of going in, fear not if you're in Bermuda because this island has a secret weapon. He's called Barnes, Johnny Barnes.

Mr. Barnes stands at the busiest round-a-bout in Bermuda (more specifically in Hamilton) every weekday morning from 5:00am to 10:00am and greets commuters with a never ending chorus of 'Good Morning' and 'God Bless You' and 'I Love You' which sounds like 'Ilovya, Ilovya, Ilovya' (because let's face it, he has to make sure he targets every person that's driving through. That's a lot of I Love Yous. Tagging him as you drive right past him is a must and will most assuredly get you the widest smile you didn't think possible. Mr. Barnes does not care if you're local or expat, black or white, woman or man. Rain or shine, Mr. Barnes is out there, appropriately attired for the weather and sticks around even when traffic increases and spews out exhaust fumes that are unbearable. He will tag you, smile and wave at you and holler I Love Yous because he knows that's the start of a good day and those smiles are so very contagious. He will stop to have his picture taken anywhere (like the one above featuring a resident and her visiting mother), hand you his very own postcard (which he sells for a dollar) and will also pray with you (amist the hustle and bustle of traffic) before he sends you off.

Johnny Barnes started greeting commuters in 1983. He was about 60 at the time. A retired bus driver, born of migrant parents that originated from the West Indies island of St. Kitts, Mr. Barnes is also known as the 'Happy Man'. His message of love has inspired many and the fact that he's still going strong 20 years later, is a testament to how much love this man truly has for everyone. Mr. Barnes has been honoured with a 6 1/2 foot statue of himself in his most famous pose and has also been honoured by Queen Elizabeth II. He truly is the island's most famous resident and at 84 there is no stopping him.
You can read more about Johnny Barnes here or here.

Below is a short (4 second) video of Johnny Barnes. Apologies for the squished funny look and the not so great quality (Mr. Barnes is not that short and it's a long story).

A total eclipse of the...

When I was about three or so, I managed to burn my hand on a hot iron whilst my mother was ironing. I can't remember which hand it was, but I literally laid my palm flat against the hot iron as it stood upright on the board. I don't know why I did it. She did tell me moments before to be careful of the iron and that it was hot. Perhaps I wanted to find out what hot really meant. What do three year olds know anyway? Oh! you can imagine the tears, the howling and the screams that followed. My grandfather, who was living with us in Dubai at the time, gathered me up in his arms, as my mother applied the best salve she had. I continued screaming to no end. In an attempt to stop my howling, he took me up on the terrace of our villa and began to sing while pointing out the moon and stars (and boy could the man sing!). It was all so distracting, that I soon forgot all about my throbbing palm and stopped crying as the songs turned into stories about the stars in the sky. They say stars are brighter in a desert sky? It's true. I remember it all so clearly, even to this day. It's a lovely memory, and perhaps this is the reason why I have always been fascinated by the moon, the stars and astronomy. One of the neat things about Bermuda is that the stars shine brighter here and are more visible due to the absence of street lighting. This is a pleasure forgone when living in a big city. Visitors will actually notice without us even prompting or letting on. A full moon reflecting off the ocean is just as breathtaking. The pictures on the right taken during our first year is proof of just how beautiful the full moon can be. OK, so I love the moon, and that would make sense because I am such a night owl.

Last evening, I actually managed to check out The Royal Gazette online only to find that there would be a Total Lunar Eclipse taking place at around 9:00pm and apparently Bermuda would be the best place to be to view it. Amid my excitement, I called our landlady, MsStopYourNoise, only to have her tell me that it would be taking place around 11:00pm and that I should know not to trust The Royal Gazette by now. I told her there was no way I was going to miss the eclipse, no matter what time it made its debut. I got camera ready and headed out around 11:00 pm. Many many shots later and after fiddling around with the camera options, here are my a few of MY favourite shots (which don't do the actual sighting any justice whatsoever) taken with MY Sony Cybershot Digital Cam (that's literally on its last leg). Last night left me wishing I had my telescope here in Bermuda, so I could have got a closer look of the moon as it went from bright white to a deep red during the eclipse (absolutely gorgeous). Had I known earlier there was going to be an eclipse, I would have told EVERYONE! The Royal Gazette was right about one thing though: Bermuda just may have been the best place to view the eclipse, not only because of its mild cool evening, but because it offered us a view of the eclipse in a cloudless sky.
We would have celebrated my Grandfather's 96th birthday this Saturday the 24th. And so, Grandpa, this one's for you...for distracting me with the moon.

Jinx

I think I might have jinxed it, because it's dull and dreary here today. Very dull and very dreary. And not to mention damp and rainy. The slew of cars making their way into town was a line so long. Of course, wet Bermuda roads will give anyone a reason to commute via car as opposed to a bike. With the series of dips in many of Bermuda's roads, it's not fun being on a bike and getting splashed and showered with an unholy amount of less than clean water as the big cars and buses zip past. Here is where a good quality rainsuit comes in handy, because here in Bermuda, when it rains it really pours (from all sides).

Let's just ask the groundhog

Many ask whether it snows here in Bermuda and the answer to that is NO!
That's why we moved here. Joke! Our real motivation was the almost tax free income. So, no it does not snow. Maybe a chance of hail and that's as close to snow as it gets. That's how close Bermuda's residents would want it to get.

The other question I'm asked is: what's the weather like in February? Will it rain? Will I be able to go to the beach? May I just say, it's hit or miss. I can't predict what it's going to be like next week but it's been extraordinarily dry thus far for February. If you are visiting Bermuda this month and are hoping for this trend to continue, well, then it just may. But don't take my word for it. Take a groundhog's.

What's a groundhog got to do with the weather, you ask? Many in Bermuda have not even heard of the whole concept of Groundhog Day (which I honestly do not get the point of even now). Bermuda does not need a groundhog, anyway. We have just two seasons, Summer and Spring. But how two first world nations (that means you, Canada & America) can leave spring weather predictions to an animal, I'll never understand. I guess every country is quirky in its own way, but seriously. A groundhog prediction on how much longer winter is going to last, depending on whether or not it sees its own shadow, when it comes out of it burrow on the appointed day? Come on!

Ninja spider

This was taken at Admirality Cove, north of Hamilton. I don't know what kind of spider it's supposed to be, but it looks like the Ninja of all spiders. I think I'm going to call it NINJA SPIDER. It's like a cross between a tarantula, a crab and a spider (and I say that because you're actually looking at the underside of the spider). Getting a front shot was not an option, unless I could fly. Sometimes I wonder where these things come from. You'll not find a spider like this in Canada and it's thing I've had to get used to upon moving here. Oh, the bugs! And you know how I previously said I don't mind spiders sticking around, well, I'd not want this thing anywhere near me. It looks mighty mean (the closer and longer you look, the meaner it gets), like it could do some serious damage and because of that, naming it is as far as I'm going to go.

Travel nonsense

One would think that due to its close proximity to the Caribbean, there would be direct flights from Bermuda to these other sunny islands. Alas, no. Because that would actually make sense. Instead, flights with a stop over in Miami, is how one would be able to get to the Caribbean from Bermuda (or vice versa). There's also longer non-direct flights where one would actually have a stopover in NY or Philly or Washington before heading to the Caribbean. Looking at the map from yesterday's post, you can see that you're practically backtracking, literally flying up North just to get down further South. Because this actually makes sense. And finally there are non-direct flights from Bermuda to say Miami, with stop overs in NY or even Philly. But of course you'd not want to take a flight like this, unless you're forced to - like if you missed your initial direct flight and have to wait around and take whatever's available. It's been known to happen.

Where exactly are we?

Apropos to yesterday's post, here's some further clarification as to where exactly this island is located. There is much confusion. I'm always asked, Where is Bermuda and how far is it from home (Toronto). I took the liberty of digitally capturing this map (seen many times before but on not such large a scale). Keep in mind that in the map shown here, Bermuda is not to scale with the rest of North America, and that the Caribbean Islands (not shown here) are South of Miami. And so presenting....

Just what do you mean by Bajan?

About a month ago, I received an anonymous comment on this post, asking me: "Isn't it Bajan, rather than Bermudian?" At first, I wasn't sure what they meant and I hesitated to publish the comment, lest 'Bajan' was a derogatory word of some sort, especially since it came from an anonymous commenter. Where I come from, Bajan or a variation of it, is the Indian (Hindi) word for a song of worship, a hymn if you will. So, you really never know, do you? Different words mean so many things in different languages. Like 'Puta' is a term of endearment for one's child in yet another Indian language (Konkani) and also means son in the Sri Lankan language, Sinhalese, but at the other end of the spectrum, 'Puta' is the vulgar word for a prostitute in Spanish (and we all know what that is). Go figure!

So, I looked up the term Bajan, because there was no way I was going to have any derogatory comments on this site. Turns out it isn't a derogatory term at all, but it actually means Barbadian Creole (an English based Creole language). And perhaps this is where the confusion lies. Bermuda is not part of the Caribbean, nor anywhere near it. It it were, then yes the term Bajan would most definitely apply in this case. Bermuda also does not like to be told that it's part of the Caribbean and will proudly point out that it's part of North America, and is an island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean off of the American East Coast. And Bermuda is not part of America either. It is not the 51st state (wait I thought that was reserved for Canada) and it is not an American territory either. It is clearly a British overseas territory, with the Queen as the Head of State and it's own independent Parliament to match. In fact, Bermudians take pride that they're not part of the Caribbean and will so vehemently remind you of this fact. I get the feeling they like to be known as the lone ranger in the vast deep blue sea, in that context.

So, don't you dare get it wrong again. Pull out a map! Because is that really so hard? You may not find Bermuda because it is so tiny, it barely makes a blimp on the map. Regardless, it's no excuse, you hear. Totally unacceptable! It's like someone saying to an Indian: Hey, aren't you from Pakistan? (such a running joke for me growing up) Or someone mistaking a Canadian for an American (such a running joke for me now).

Joke! Joke! Joke! Come now, you know I love you, my American peeps.

Have you lost a floodlight?

I came across this in The Royal Gazette today:

Have you lost a floodlight?
Police are searching for the owners of a 1,500 watt floodlight which was seized during a raid in Smith's last month.
Officers have made inquiries with the Island's sports clubs but have so far been unable to find the rightful owner of the large silver light, which is attached to a box marked 'Hubbell'.
Anyone with information about the item should contact the St. George's criminal investigation unit at Southside Police Station on 278-5105 or 293-2222.

1,500 Watts? I mean really, aren't we under an environmental crisis of some kind? Something about employing energy efficient means to utilise current non renewable resources wisely? Something about burning less fuel? Something about Global Warming? And really, why would anyone want to steal a 1,500 watt floodlight, anyway? Why take on the blame for being so wasteful? There's a reason why it' hasn't been claimed yet. They know they are going to be marked as solely responsible for reaching the levels of CO2 for Bermuda. 1,500 watts! Honestly, some one's not got their head screwed on right!

Your mom has an ipod ???

You've left Home to come here to work and reside on this island as an expat, but you've never really left home. Have you heard that before? No? Well, that's because I just made it up. When I say you've never really left home, I mean that you still carry it with you. Your hangouts, your routes, roads that you know like the back of your hand. If you're a woman, malls that you know like the back of your hand, and not to mention mall timings that have been ingrained in your memory. Frequent or once a year trips made back home will only reaffirm how much you have not forgotten your hometown and how these yearly trips home never really let you forget as you revisit your favourite haunts.

My mother is probably the most technologically involved female of her generation. I'm talking about an MS Office Advanced+ user, who knows the difference between Explorer and Firefox, who owns more iPods than most and is on her way to acquiring the new iPhone (apparently she can't wait and funnily enough her brother, UncleTigerBeer doesn't seem to get what the big deal is). Surprising, yes? Perhaps I take it for granted now, but where was this hip cool mom 20 years ago? Could you imagine the gadgets we'd have had as toys? Anyway, I realise not every mom of her generation is as technologically inclined as she is.

Case in point: a few years ago when I first mentioned in passing to my brother-in-law about my mom's iPod Mini, he looked at me with this shocked expression on his face and said (I kid you not) THREE times:
"Your mom has an iPod?"
"Yes" (in a matter of fact tone)
"Your mom has an iPod?" (with slightly more emphasis)
"Yes" (a little more matter of fact)
"Your mom has an iPod?" (with maximum emphasis)
"Yessssssss"
"Why?" says he.
"To listen to music." says I. "You know music? The thing that everyone listens to."
"Yes. Yes." says he. And then, "Oh." Like she's one of those moms.

Yes I know, I do have the memory of an elephant! Now I'm not going to give out her exact age, because this blog will be shut down faster than any one can say, 'Your mom has an iPod?' But suffice to say she's of the baby boom era, the LATE LATE baby boom era. So here she is, very computer savvy, knows all about MSN Messenger, Google Talk, Google Maps...the works. Oh and I can't forget YouTube. That one's her favourite. Not to mention iTunes (for how else would she be able to update her ipods). My dad's catching upto to her quite nicely, too! I mean this is what I came home to one evening after a night out during Christmas week in Toronto. Yes, they both actually have their own laptops (who needs a built in intercom when you need to get a message across while on different floors of the house - that's what cell phones and chat programs are there for!). But that's not what they're doing here. Here they are working.
So, for all their tech savvyness (we can blame my brother for this one), there are some things my mother will still message me (here in Bermuda) about my hometown that is Toronto, bearing in mind I haven't lived in Toronto for the past three years not counting the yearly one week visits.

Questions like:
"What time does the mall close on Saturday." (Yes, she means the mall by her Toronto home, my former place of residence, which also has its own website - the mall not the house).
"What bus route do I take if I want to get to Place X". OR
"What subway stop should I get off at, if I want to get to Place Y."

It's not that Mom's lazy because lazy is not a word in her dictionary, it's just that she claims she busy with other things. Sometimes I'll give her the answers right away if I know them or I'll look them up. But sometimes, just sometimes, I'll tease her saying: "You know Mom, I don't live in Toronto anymore. I've been in Bermuda for like three years now. You can't expect me to remember all this stuff anymore."

And her response is, "Well look it up. I'm too busy to do it. Besides, what else are you there for? You're my secretary."

As you can see, she's also a funny one. And since she'll read about this sometime today, first thing she'll say is:
Stupid Girl (with a slight Indian accent) Why are you writing about me???

And Hubby reading this will laugh at my Mom calling me Stupid Girl, since he's heard her call me that before and thinks it's hilarious that my Mom addresses me so. He's even dared to repeat it as he laughs. The nerve!

What the ****

No matter how macho an expat guy is, no matter how tall, or big or big boned, or fierce or aggressive, no matter how tough, no matter what - his reaction on spotting a Bermuda roach for the first time is always going to be this: WHAT THE F***!?!?!?!
Unless he's spent time on some other tropical locale or has grown up in a country hot enough to have roaches as endemic as the other bugs, this is going to be his first counter with a roach (a flying one if it's a female) - the size of one's index finger (upgrade that to the size of one's middle finger if one is at either ends of the island and by that I mean you Somerset & St. George's). First impressions are everything and these things sure do know how to get a reaction out of you.

Now men, don't be all macho and go at the roach with your size 12 shoe. That makes it worse if its a female roach you've just flattened. You can bet her eggs have flown all over the floor into who knows what crack or crevice. Be a real man. Get close up to it with that Baygon (illegal in North America but so legal in Bermuda) and spray the living daylights out of it. (Play that Macho Man song in your head if it helps). What's that you say? Too close for comfort? Yeah, I thought so...

Instead of rain

It's February and ordinarily cold in many a place, not to mention snowing. But here in Bermuda we've been awarded a week of sunshine that's making it quite nice and hot (you won't be needing soup of any kind to warm the cockels of your heart this week). It's even hot enough to get a tan. And for that I'm thankful.

Reading between the lines

As a child, when I first heard of the term 'read between the lines', I stopped to think, Which lines? I'm looking at the lines and I don't see anything. It's a difficult concept to explain to a child, a concept that is only made clear once a certain level of maturity is reached, where irony reveals itself and where innocence is slowly lost. Basically, when you're older!

While there are so many things I'd like to convey about what life is like on this island for an expat, I have to adopt a more conservative attitude so as not to rock 'de' boat. I may never be able to voice them, because they always say 'Never Burn your Bridges'. Which reminds me: for many expats, their first experience with working with an offshore company may not necessarily be pleasant. Long working hours and unprofessional management are two of the biggest complaints. However upset you may be at your employer and no matter what you may want to say truthfully in your Exit Interview, one has to be diplomatic. This is a route that all are advised to take, because you never know...And so in being diplomatic and professional, you move on. It might not feel good not having to give your previous employer 'the finger', so to speak, but it does feel good knowing where you're going next, whether it be on island or off. If it's on island, you know that your time already spent here with your first employer has given you an insight as to which companies to avoid the next time around, which ones may make you work like a dog, evening & weekends and of course which of the many are Grade A choice. While it always helps to know someone here to garner some information about companies and their work ethic, not everyone is in the position of having this information at hand before they've stepped foot on the island. The reason why this is such a big deal? An expat is only allowed to have two employers in the first five years on the island, with a change to a third in the sixth year. With the current term limit for expats set at six years (unless you're a key employee), decisions with regards to the next job offer cannot be made lightly. And so the second and third time around is much easier and it all boils down to exercising diplomacy (with your previous employer) and smarts (in choosing your future employer).

There are many Bermudian bloggers out here that have been blogging about the political ongoings of this their island but in recent months quite a few of them have given up and some have stopped altogether (perhaps some threats have been made). So, if a dangerous realm is what they've stepped in by voicing their opinions about their own land in what would seem to be an era of freedom of speech, I have to stop and think about how much hot water I may be in if I were to delve deeper into the throes of expat life, however accurate and objective it might be. Some are just not inclined to want to hear it.

With a housing crisis, rising cost of living, over population abound and not to mention a fair share of resentment directed towards expats, where while International Business is welcomed although not acknowledged as the main pillar of the economy (which it so truthfully is), where words like 'expats are treated like second class citizens' are thrown around, one has to read between the lines here. It's tricky bringing to light some of the issues without having to actually be blatant about it. One also has to bear in mind that much of the hoopla that has been taking place the past few months has been a result of the Elections that took place in December. In a bid to gain a majority vote, a lot of huffing and puffing was done by both parties, regardless at who's expense it was at. But now that the elections are over and done with, calm has been restored. Policies and measures that threatened to change lives (both expat and local) last year, no longer hang in the balance. They have disappeared, so to speak. The air has been cleared. But while all of this was going on, other offshore jurisdictions (like the Cayman Islands, Bahamas et al.) watched with bated breath, read the ongoings zealously, perhaps sometimes shaking their heads wondering what we expats in Bermuda thought and felt about all this. Well, unless you've read between the lines and have come to your own conclusion, you're not going to hear it from me.

No speak English

When I first got here I'd take the bus into town if I had any errands to run. The route where I live is quite a busy one. On this one instance as I waited, I saw a man, a young man about my age, walking towards me. He looked a bit funny with his brown paper bag that concealed a bottle, of beer no doubt. He was either drunk or high or both. He definitely looked a little off with his hooded jacket and a sinister look to match. He kept walking back and forth, muttering to himself, at times making eye contact. It wasn't so much that I was scared, it's just that when dealing with someone unstable you never know what to expect next, no matter how much experience you may have had in the past.

Then along came an senior Bermudian man and stood next to me at the bus stop. Of course, he sensed my discomfort and looked at me and said. 'You know, these guys, if they ever try to talk to you, just look at them shake your head and say "No speak English". They tend to leave you alone after that.'
I stood there not knowing what to say in response, except Thank You, since I was a little preoccupied in trying to figure out what the heck he meant. And while I've seen both men on the island since then, I never fail to remember the older one's words.

Bermuda is an island where the single women get hit on all the time. The stories I've heard from my single gals, and some of them quite shocking. All I know is Bermudian men don't mess with women that don't speak English. Apparently!

On the run

An article in the newspaper last week caught my eye. It said: 'Police chase ends in arrest'. The following was my train of thought...
...
Well, how else was it supposed to end?
We're on an island!
Almost all roads are one lane.
There's only so many places one can escape to and it's not that kind of an escape.
Not like one can cross interstate lines and actually hide somewhere.
Everyone knows everyone here. Someone's bound to rat on the man.
Fool Fool Fool!
Why bother even making those cops chase him? Unless he a helicopter waiting at the other end of the island, he should have just given himself up in the first place.

Rooster crossing

Bermuda roosters are so smart, they cross at the crosswalks. I swear! We came across this one at the crosswalk a couple of days ago, and silly me, I didn't stop for it to cross. I should have, right? I mean animals also count as pedestrians when they cross at the crosswalk, right? Arrgh! Anyway, the rooster actually backtracked when it saw I wasn't going to wait and so it waited for me to drive past, only after which it crossed the street. Just goes to show they're smarter than we give them credit for. Either that or it must have seen one too many of its friends get slammed by a car.

How's that for learned behaviour! I kid you not, this works with pigeons too back in Toronto. Dumb things would always gather at the edge of the sidewalk on the street further up where I lived and wouldn't even move, never mind the oncoming traffic. My brother says they can't gauge how far away the car is due to their eyesight being two dimensional, or something like that. Anyway, they'd be in the la la land until smack, one of them would end up as road kill. Well, then surprisingly they'd all be off the road. For days they'd not venture past the sidewalk. You could just about imagine them whispering to each other: Oh crap, look at Bob there! Dead!
Of course, this would only last until 'Bob' was cleaned up, and then back they were on the roads again, until their friends Tom, Dick, Harry, Sue, Jane and Sally all suffer the same fate, at different intervals. Forgetful things, aren't they? I don't care much for pigeons, they could be extinct for all I care (in fact they should be!), but after this rooster incident, you know I'm going to feel guilty about eating a chicken the next time around.

Park it!

You know what bothers me about Bermuda? It's the parking spots. Well, it's not so much the parking spots, but rather the people that park their gigantic cars in these parking spots. First of all, I can never understand the need for SUV's and Hummers on the island. I understand the need for minivans, if you've got kids, but an SUV? A Hummer? Seriously? How much protection do you need when you're on the road out here, where the speed limit is 35 kms? Besides, a Hummer pretty much takes up the entire width of the one way lane here, so what's the point? And don't even get me started on how much gas these things guzzle up. With gas prices here at around $1.79 a litre, don't you feel the pinch at the pump?

And I notice it's always these mega vehicle owners that never seem to get it right while parking, especially in a crowded parking lot. Are people not aware that it's Bermuda & space is at a premium? Everywhere! I've many a time arrived at my destination, only to find some 'moron' taking up two parking spots. No, it's not that the vehicle is spilling over, it's that the vehicle is literally parked flat in the middle of the line, thereby taking up TWO whole parking spots. How much of a hurry are they in? Are they reserving the other spot for their friend? What is it? It's not like they're in Canada where a layer of hardened snow has covered up the entire lot, thereby erasing any visible lines whatsoever. And even then people are considerate! They gauge and adjust, leaving room for their fellow driver, friend or not. Take a page, people, take a page!

I swear, next time this happens, I am going to take a picture of your car and post it here, licence plate and all!

There, rant over!

The Sea Urchin

This here is a Sea Urchin, found around the same place as the CowFish, at the shallower end of Flatts Inlet. The water here was only about a foot deep and of course clearer. Almost makes you want to reach out and touch it! Well, if you're at the Aquarium, one of their sections which stands seperate from the Aquarium, allows you to do just that. A shallow pond gives you access to Urchins from which you are encouraged to pick up and get a feel of what they're like. Kids love doing this and are not at all hesitant to pick one and play with it, if only for a few moments. Ensuring that their hands are clean before they reach in to grab themselves an urchin, is another matter.

Honeycomb Cowfish

One of the exciting things about living in Bermuda (like any other tropical island) is being exposed (face to face in some cases) to so many varieties of tropical fish. It can be thrilling, if you're into that sort of thing. For some are truly afraid of the water and what it holds, but fear not. You need not be in the water here in Bermuda to have an encounter with any of the island's beautiful marine inhabitants. There are plenty of places here where one can just stand by the docks and have a look at what's swimming down below. Just make sure to carry some food with you to lure these dwellers to come out in the open.

This one featured here is the Honeycomb Cowfish. Cowfish are often lumped together with its cousins, the Trunkfish. They are apparently more beautiful when in the water, not so much when taken out. They can be found near reefs of ranging in depth of 3 to 80 meters. This Honeycomb Cowfish pictured here was found off the docks at the Flatts Inlet. It was a sunny beautiful day when I decided to visit with some leftover orzo (rice shaped pasta). A little girl was more than happy to feed the fish, leaving me free to snap up pictures of whatever came into view. This Cowfish made numerous appearances which I how I managed to capture this little gem of a shot as it swam up to the surface. I kid you not! See the bubbles? The bubbles (and of course the ripples) are proof , if you doubt me so. (My friend H, better not tell me this picture has been Photoshopped as well). Honeycomb Cowfish are commonly found in Bermuda, Brazil, and apparently as far as New Jersey(!?). During mating period, the male Honeycomb Cowfish turn a deep blue and emits an audible hum. While I've yet to come across a Cowfish while snorkeling, I think this picture and video just about makes up for it in the meantime. And, as I was leaving, I also spotted a baby Honeycomb Cowfish but was unable to capture it on film (It was tiny - no bigger than one's palm). Maybe next time...

COWFISH VIDEO

A global freeze

It's been cold the last few days. And dreary. With not much rain, mind you. And while no, it does not snow here in Bermuda, there is the off chance that if it's cold enough, we do get hit with hail. That hasn't happened yet. Every one's looking forward to the weather letting up, especially since it was warm and sunny all of last week.

It's been raining cats and dogs in Dubai. So much so, that areas have been severely flooded. While the UAE had always boasted a modern infrastructure, not much thought was given to drainage systems. My mother reminded me that the heavy winter rainfall has only come into existence in the last ten years or so. Which is true - I don't really remember it raining all that much when I was a child. A family member sent me an email with pictures to showcase the flooding in and around town and one of them happened to be of my old diggs. Along with the email was posted average temperatures for the week and I kid you not, it had day time highs of about 20 deg C. That's cooler than Bermuda! An aunt in Qatar was telling me how it dropped down to 5 dec C the other day and all I could say was: That's it! You might as well move to Canada!
You know what all of this is right? I'll spell it out: G L O B A L W A R M I N G!

And so, here I am on 'de rock' on other side of the world, way north of the hot sunny Caribbean, waiting for the sun to come out and stay. Visiting Bermuda during the winter is in most cases a hit or miss, for those of you who have been inquiring. You never know when you're going to be blessed with warm sunny weather for a week at a stretch. Not that I'm complaining. I can't really. I've got all those Canadian residents (aka family) on my back, phish poshing my Bermuda cold weather concerns.

Hardy har har

A while ago, a childhood friend of mine from India happened to look through the Marine Life Slideshow from when it was first posted. He was mesmerised by the very first picture - the Parrotfish. In response he emailed: Oh, that's really good Photoshop! At first I had no idea what the blazes he was trying to say until I was finally able so ask him directly when he came online a few weeks later. Our conversation was as follows:

H: The marine life slideshow...there is no Parrotfish.

Me: Maybe the slideshow hasn't loaded yet.

H: I meant there is no fish called Parrotfish.

Me: Well, here in Bermuda there is!

H: And this is a digitally edited image.

Me: (Wha...? How dare he say any of my pictures have been digitally edited!) Which image?

H: The Parrotfish.

Me: Ummm...I took that picture.

H: The Parrotfish?

Me: Yes. All those pics are mine.

H: Is it? Seriously?

Me: Yes. They're real fish. Fish I have seen with my own eyes while snorkeling...

H: Well, then...

(Yeah that's right! It's all real! Nothing fake here.)

So H! When I captured this as I overlooked the docks at Flatts Inlet (Yes, the water is that clear), I thought of how skeptical you were the first time around. And so you doubting Thomas here's another to prove that ParrotFish do exist (not only in Bermuda but also in the Middle East). Not to mention they're Bermuda's National Fish.

To those of you who are in the same circle of childhood friends as H & I, you should by now have identified H. I mean, I've given you two clues already.

Tag, you're it

I've mentioned before how people like to toot at every familiar person driving by on this island. Well, what about when you're on a bike. I've seen the more daring bikers drive up along side each other in perfect symphony and proceed to give each other a high five, or even a knuckle greeting if they've got the moxie and a balancing act to go along with it. And then some even proceed have a conversation. Never mind that it can be challenging to hear each other over the roar of their bikes and not to mention their helmets (padded on the inside) sealing off any chances of hearing any snippets of conversation whatsoever. Reading lips is quite the skill to possess in these cases, but then there's always the chance of crashing into the car ahead of them if they're stealing too long a glance at their 'sidekick'.

Last week as I was driving, ahead of me two bikers proceeded to meet up in this very same fashion. Not to catch up but rather for one to lend a helping 'hand' to another. As one of them drove off carefully, the other extended his hand to the back of his friend's bike to make sure he had a firm grip. His own bike was failing and so he need a 'ride' into where ever he was going. And this seemed to be the way to do it. It's the car equivalent of being, oh say given a boost. But it's not as easy as it looks. Manoeuvring a bike with one hand is a challenge enough, but most local bikers seem to have it down pat. Not to mention some of the stunts we've seen being performed. Often one can see the Motorola V3 phone cushioned in their helmet as they carry on a conversation while driving. 'Poppin a wheelie' is quite popular as well. Unfortunately, the accidents that occur due to some of these careless routines is far from popular. The most concerned residents can do is shake their heads in the hope that the bikers in question come to their senses. Or if their aunts or momma's friends spot them then a good yelling is what they're in for when they make it to their destination, because if there's one thing I've learned about this island it's that news travels fast, like wildfire.

Driving me crazy

Switching between driving in Bermuda and Toronto and then back to Bermuda again is not as daunting as I thought it would be. I managed just fine. Of course, the weather is another factor in the winter. There I was during in Toronto during Christmas week, in cold weather conditions, where the car had to be warmed up before take off (thank goodness for automatic car starters), where I had to bundle up, where defogging the windows was a must, as were gloves. But where the thrill of highway driving was only all to familiar. I could let 'er rip. And this is what I miss most about driving. Not to mention the many many things that can occupy one's time, like people and places. So many things to do but never enough time.

And then I make it back to Bermuda where the car need not be warmed up, a mild summer breeze blowing in while you drive with the windows rolled down, no defogging of any kind required, driving in flip flops (the sturdy kind) is much more refreshing than having thermal socks and winter boots on. All good things especially done in the span of 24 hours. But I still miss the highway driving without having to stop and go every darn minute to get from point A to point B.

Which reminds me of another thing: Apparently Bush is visiting Dubai. My first thought was WHY? In the past few years, Dubai traffic has accumulated to an all time high, where commuting by car from work to home is just as big of a problem like in NY or Toronto (but at least we have subways). Anyway, Monday was declared a holiday for Dubai residents as many of the roads were going to be closed down. It was very short notice and while I'm sure everyone appreciated the extra day off, it seems like no one's looking forward to the extra twice as long commute today. Many a family/ friend have been complaining via FaceBook about the drive into work and the drive going home. Stay strong, people! It's almost over.

Imagine if Bush visited Bermuda! With our one lane roads, no one would be allowed back on them until he left the island.

The nine

How much of a difference do nine latitudes make? Let's look at an airport in two seperate locations, nine latitudes apart, where baggage handlers begin off loading suitcases mere moments after the plane touches down. In Toronto, where at the time it was well below 0, these handlers were bundled up to face the cold winter, completing their garb with thick gloves and wollen caps and ear muffs of some kind. In contrast, where it was nice & sunny in Bermuda when we touched down, all that was needed for these baggage handlers was a long sleeve shirt and a maybe a cap to sheild their eyes against the bright sun. I really don't need to ask where one would rather be a baggage handler.

Mind your own beeswax

Apropos to one of my previous posts about Bermuda's Bees, this sight at Bermuda's Royal Botanical Gardens somewhat mollified me. While I dared to inch closer to capture it on film, I had to hold back so as not to blind the bees with the flashes emanating from my camera, lest I upset them. Like anyone I'm sure, I'm not gung ho about getting stung by bees. Besides, wouldn't that defeat the purpose, seeing as how they die after they sting you? Looking at the picture though (and look closely), imagine many more flowers just like this one and many more bees going about their day doing what they do best. Looking at the picture, how many bees can you round up? Looking at the picture, perhaps there is hope for us yet, but only if we tread lightly.

Island style onions

While I thought it was Chicago that first started this craze with its statues inhabiting the city, it originally began in Switzerland with 800 fiberglass cows. These sculptures were placed around the city, paid for and donated by various corporations, to be auctioned off for charity. They were painted to reflect their urban surroundings. It's called the Sidewalk Arts Project and it was only a matter of time before Toronto began to commission these for its own. And what better to represent Canada than the Moose. Oh yeah, we soon saw moose cropping up at various parts of the city. Now I have no visual aids to provide you with but imagine if you will, moose strategically placed at various destinations in the city. And like the ones in Switzerland and Chicago, these moose were anything but blasé. Check out the link for pictures.

Cincinnati soon followed with a mascot of its own, the Big Pig Gig. Buffalo NY with, need I say it? - Herd about Buffalo. Boston with its Calvacade of Cod and New Orleans with its Festival of Fins - fish counterparts. Even Dubai had one of its own, a camel, but I don't think it was part of the Project. But I do happen to have a picture of that. Glitterati says it all and this is one camel that could blind you in the mid day sun.


So, earlier this year I came across in Bermuda what reminded me of the Toronto Moose, the Chicago Cow and the Dubai Camel. By now you should have been able to guess. Bermuda does it only one way - Onion style! But instead of having the onions 'sit' idle, they've been commissioned to good use. So far, I've only found three of them (one in May and two this past week). You know what they say about the Island life. These Onions are a perfect reflection of that.

Drop de Onion

If, on New Year's Eve, New York drops the ball during the countdown to bring in the New Year, what would be apropos for Bermuda? Why an onion, of course. Or so I've heard. This apparently takes place every year in St. George's and it's quite the event, as a result of which traffic and parking is a nightmare. And while we opted to check out the fireworks at Elbow Beach, I now wish I would have been able to accomodate the Onion Drop Countdown. Hubby and his visiting brother were poking fun at the whole dropping the onion thing, but I say it's nice not to see a copycat countdown but rather a 'place' putting its own spin on what would be another's tradition.

The Poinsettia

The past three weeks have kept me quite busy - traveling and then hosting visitors on this sunny island. There's so much to tell but I shall start off with what I had originally intended on posting a few weeks ago. So here's goes....

This is a plant that makes an appearance every Christmas in every household. It's the Poinsettia. The plant is of Mexican origin and the story goes that a poor Mexican girl, inspired by an angel, placed her collection of plants at the church altar as a gift for the celebration of Christ's birthday. The 'weeds' then sprouted beautiful red flowers now known as Poinsettias, which since the 17th century, has been used and associated with Christmas. The Poinsettia is now also available in a beautiful champagne - a perfect choice to tone down the sometimes overwhelming red used in Christmas decor. Once the Christmas season comes to an end and its red or champagne coloured top leaves start to fall off, the Poinsettia can be hard plant to maintain and re flower for next Christmas.

During our India trip a couple of years ago, my mother spotted the poinsettia growing freely at our family plantation. She couldn't believe that there it lay among other tropical plants right under her nose the entire time she was growing up. She had failed to make the connection when she was presented with a poinsettia in Toronto many years later.

Driving by in Bermuda in December, I'd pass by this one house and its beautiful flowering tree. The vivid red flowers were bound to capture any one's attention. I made it a point to go up there and ask if I could capture it on film. The owner was so accommodating and went on to explain that it was a a Poinsettia tree. A tree? I'm sure not many know that the Poinsettia has the potential of maturing into a tree. I certainly didn't. There aren't very many poinsettia trees on the island and none that blooms so profusely as this one. So take a peek. It really is very pretty.

Who wears short shorts?

I wear short shorts! As you can see I did find the picture I was referring to in this previous post. Here I am, knee deep in Dubai's waters, licking the salt off my lips, waiting for my bag to be filled with clams. Could my shorts be any shorter? Although, I wish I could pull of this same look now.

Happy New Year

Taking in the fireworks front row center at Elbow Beach is not a bad way to bring in the new year. Wishing everyone a very Happy New Year 2008!