On this island I have learned to dragon boat race, how to eat fresh cashew fruit, mango and coconut properly. I have experienced my heart rate spike while swerving down the PBR in a cramped Maxi Taxi and the taste of Trini gyros on the street at 4am. I have learned to wine, lime and dine like Fijians, Solomon Islanders, Samoans, Bajans, Grenadians, and Trinibagonians. I have become fully aware of my whiteness. At times my full lips can convince people I am part black, but even the frizzy texture of my hair can not justify me being anything other than a white American in this country. But what I have not experienced is discomfort and resistance. I crave those experiences as well. I want to experience the literature I have toiled over. I want to learn in real time which identities in Trinidad complete with each other and which do not. Will ethnic purity and distinction be sought after forever in Trinidad and the Caribbean? Will this forever be the ground work for social stratification? What will decide the rulers of “post colonial kingdoms” if not? How do the insecurities and remains of colonialism embody themselves in the people of Trinidad and the Caribbean outside of conflicts of identity? With the different narratives of victimhood continue to compete with each other? Who is this island home to? Eight weeks of research seems a feeble attempt to answer these questions.
