Namesake

I was named after my late grandmother: Dina. Man was she an epic sort... but then again, everyone in my family is.

Left to right: Epic sort, Epic sort. Epic sort. Epic sort

But I've never really given much serious thought to the whole "who am I really?" nonsence... you know, all the name meanings and heritage mumbojumbo... but maybe, yes maybe, there's something to it?? All of Fiji keep talking about their namesakes and they're pretty smart and excessively happy beings!!

Mum told me that my name meant "noble woman of esteem." I thought that sounded a bit posh and ostentatious - but I rolled with it. And then my travels led me across many an Israeli who informed me that in fact my name, apart from being an "old people name", also meant "soft and gentle". And yes, after a couple of months spent in Fiji, I am pretty soft and squishy; but gentle? I'm not so sure.

After sitting through many a gift giving (sevusevu) and grog drinking (kava: dry mildly-sedative roots mashed up and soaked into water) ceremony where my name and a lot of clapping gets thrown about almost hap-hazardly, I've come to realise three things. Firstly, I don't like kava very much. Secondly, I've got some flipping big foot prints to fill if I want to live up to my grandmother's legacy (even though she was a tiny human) and finally, I've found a more accurate depiction of who I am (although I suppose that's just my noble esteemist opinion)... In Fijian "Dina" means "true and genuine". And I'll take that!

What better person to be than who you really are?

Big, small, tall, short, funny, passionate, boring, gregarious, impulsive, bad-ass, inbred, accident-prone, cross-dressing... whatever, it doesn't matter as long as you're you!

And that's who I want to be; a true and genuine [Dina] me.

Who's your name sake? What's your name mean? What shoes were you born to fill??

Life's a celebration!!!

Because sometimes when you try and subtly lick, it backfires, and they lick back....

It's 4am and my alarms yelling at me to get up. It's the last thing that I wanted to do after 15 hours of sea sick sailing (It's amazing how throwing up 19 times saps your energy). But I pulled myself together, plastered on a smile and let the day begin. It was carnival Monday and we were in Trinidad.

The crew

The five of us piled into the dinghy and hoped for the best. Previous day's discussions with fellow boat people suggested that transport needed to have been pre-arranged weeks in advance and that traffic would be terrible! But as we stepped out of the marina, I held out my thumb and the very first car pulled over and drove us straight to the action in the Port of Spain.

None of us had a clue what to expect, so when we found ourselves in the middle of Jouvert, it was a bit of a shock to the system.

J’Ouvert The official start of Carnival, J’Ouvert takes place before dawn on Carnival Monday and bands of revellers dressed in old clothes cover themselves in oil, grease, paint, chocolate or mud and dance through the streets till the sun comes up.

Within minutes our group had been torn apart by the moroding masses of bumpers and grinders (what appears to be the official and only dance move of the country) and as we passed through the different bands of people we found ourselves getting coated in layer upon layer of mud, various colours of paint, chocolate and I dare to ask what some of the other substances were... What an awesome welcome to Trinidad and Tobago!!

Katrin being molestorised

The amazing cleaning crew followed close behind the masses leaving the streets spotless in our wake!

Even going to the toilet gets you in party mode 

|I was still spitting mud hours after licking this guy!

The streets quieted out in the heat of the day and the German (Katrin, my roommate) and I headed off to mingle, bar hop and explore the town. When we returned to the carnival scene we were in a state of shock... we found the whole of the island wondering about in the cleanest, beautifulest and most extravagant clothing imaginable... nobody warned us that we should be looking like this:

The thing that amazes me the most is how comfortable people are being scantily clad... and they really do pull it off quite well...

Darkness finally descended and our state of dirtiness was eventually masked to the point that we even managed to hitch a ride home with these guys:

And then began round two. Tuesday left us even more gobsmacked. And fortunately it didn't start nearly as early!

Armed with a teddy bear we headed to land and managed to get a ride into town with the army. A great start to the day!

Teddy was a great hit with the ladies:

And the police:

He even got us on the news....

The day just got more and more spectacularish  and while I'm sure carnival in Rio is awesome; the parties in Trinidad are a have to do!!!

It took us three rides to get home, but everyone we hitched with left us more enthusiastic about the human race and how many good people are out there! Trinidad has a bit of a bad reputation, but from the quality of people I have hung out with this week, I can only say that this country is rich in awesomeness!!!

Carnival's all over for now and most of the country is still lingering with hangovers... but the parties continue for no other reason than life being a celebration. 

No matter where you are or whats going on around you, make sure you're living it up because life is short, and you really need to make the most of it!!!

Return of the Gypsy

Yes, it’ the sequel… It’s time to finish what was started…My old friend, Unemployment, has returned to me and it’s now or never (so obviously it’s now).

Back in 2010, when my Soccer World Cup contract had me forced to watch all 64 games (and I don’t like soccer all that much), I tried to keep it interesting- I said (and I am a woman of my word) “I’ll start in Australia (because there was no possible way they would win) and travel over land and sea to whatever country wins the World Cup.”

Soccer World Cup, RSA, 2010

 

In 2010 I flew to Perth, Australia, and the journey began. I hitched, I cycled, I acquired a giant teddy bear, I motor biked, I hiked, I constructed a boat – shipwrecked – swam, stowed away on a freight ship, sailed, and then in December last year I found myself back where I started; washed up on South African soil. 

World's dirtiest travelling bear at "birth" and 6 months...

Hitching China

Cycling across South Eat Asia

Motorbiking Vietnam

We built, we sailed, we shipwrecked 

My former crew aboard S/V Fiddler

Because I’m only a Part Time Professional Gypsy (PTPG), I took on the first real job of my life managing an adventure park (www.acrobranch.co.za– you should visit it) and then on Sunday, I handed over my responsibilities, left my amazing team behind, and officially resumed my mission.

I’ve packed up my life, said some goodbyes, had a most amazing Braai Day in Summerset West, and tonight I jump on a bus to Port Elizabeth where I hop on a yacht with a bunch of 60 year olds I’ve never met... 

Their destination: Spain.

 

Tonight I become a gypsy again. Tomorrow I meet my crew and remember how bad sea sickness is. By December this mission may be complete… but whatever happens, it’s time to lick, live and be awesome! I hope you're doing likewise!