Paria Paradise: A Leatherback Love Story

Perhaps I am the luckiest woman in the world to have seen this amazing nesting ritual and these endangered leatherback sea turtles! On a weekend camping trip to Paria Bay, we were not aware that this beach would become teeming with turtles in the middle of the night. The leatherback sea turtles are an endangered species, making their nesting period a particularly important time. Trinidad and Tobago, for being a small country, has a relatively high number of leatherback turtles nesting on its beaches. Generally, the turtles are known to nest on the Atlantic side (the East coast), but on this particular weekend several turtles wandered into Paria Bay, a beach closer to the North coast with a mix of Atlantic and Caribbean waters. 

Imagine our surprise, as we sat around a camp fire and sang to the strumming of a guitar, when we saw a boulder drift onto the shore and slowly begin to move towards the drier sand. We sat in awe as the Trinidadian locals explained the process of leatherback sea turtle nesting. These creatures, weighing somewhere around two tons and counting, climb out of the water and slowly (slowly) but surely slide their way onto the dry sand away from the lapping waves. Once they are content with their chosen spot, they begin to wave their flippers in seeming disarray, digging a five foot hole in which to lay their eggs. Once the hole has been created, the turtle positions itself over and begins to lay somewhere near 100-120 eggs. At this time, she goes into what is best described as a trance, with a layer of 'tears' covering her eyes and making her unaware of her surroundings. The eggs are shiny, appear slimy, and look like large golf balls piled atop one another. 

After laying her eggs, she spins wildly on her belly (a breakdancer in the making) and moves her flippers until the eggs are effectively protected by the sand. Although she lays over 100 eggs, usually the majority of them will die before the hatchlings even make it to the ocean. 

For hours, I sat cross-legged in the sand, watching these magnificent creatures make their way to shore and begin nesting beneath the moon. 

Paria Waterfall

The famous natural arch in Paria

A glowing campfire

Waking up to an incredible sight

My Milner Hall compatriots 

Thank You, Beautiful Paria! 

Quirky Perky Professors @ UWI

Since my first week of lectures at The University of the West Indies, I have been eager to write about the extravagant professors at UWI. My view is geared towards the Faculty of Social Sciences, in which I was taking four psychology courses. Trinidad and Tobago (rather- the Caribbean as a whole) is known for running on an entirely different schedule of timings (or lack thereof). Knowing this, I channeled my inner zen in anticipation of long waits at the administration building and bus schedules which were very loosely followed. I did not expect it to apply to my classes, however!

Imagine my surprise when two of my classes consistently began 30-40 minutes after the actual start time. I was slower on the uptake than most, still showing up within 10 minutes of 5:00 PM and waiting around with the other earlybirds as the professor took his sweet time in arriving. He was a jolly man of Indian descent, with a thick graying moustache and a tendency to digress to talks of his family life.

In most classes at Towson, there is a clearly defined hierarchy in the room. Lecturers often close the door precisely the minute the class is due to begin, and any latecomers slink in ashamedly with their heads ducked, unacknowledged.

In my classes at UWI, the professor/student hierarchy is much more vague- if nonexistent- with a sassy, playful interaction. Students would arrive to class over 10 or 20 minutes after lecture began and pass by with a cheerful "good evening", to which the professor would interrupt his train of thought to respond with an equally kind "good evening". Several times during lectures, my professors would wander into the midst of the seating and settle themselves down on a bench beside the students, preferring a more balanced classroom than the teacher-at-the-podium setting. My Trinidadian professors made references to their participation in the drunken dancing festival of Carnival, a set of personal activities that would not be shared in the American classroom setting.

Comparably, I had a professor from England who had fairly recently begun to teach at UWI. Her style differed drastically from my Caribbean professors. She maintained the hierarchy of professor to students, standing in front of the classroom or atop the stage in the lecture hall, and using a microphone.

By the end of the semester, I was occasionally frustrated but overall appreciative of the quirky professor at UWI, each with their personality on full display.

Religious Representations

A few weeks ago, I was lucky enough to join a tour alongside the western coast of Trinidad and Tobago. We climbed aboard a bus and chugged into the heart of Chaguanas, stopping at two famous Hindu sites: An ashram dedicated to Lord Hanuman and The Temple in the Sea. The walls, floors, ceilings, and each doorway trailed colors, intricate patterns rising into the sky. Hindu gods of every shape, size, and color from the Ramayana sat peacefully in the center of the temple, greeting visitors. Yet, even having been in Trinidad and Tobago for several months, I feel I have not even begun to understand the depth of the people here. Hinduism runs deeply within a large portion of Trinidad and Tobago’s population, but it is a religion about which I know very little. 

I have also been exposed to the practices of the Spiritual Baptists. In particular, I watched a ritual of purification as a group of Spiritual Baptists bathed in milk and the waters of Maracas Waterfall. I have watched a group of men in traditional Rastafarian gear gather to enjoy each other’s thoughts on a sunny afternoon at the botanical gardens. I have seen trinkets celebrating the voodoo rituals (less common, but certainly established) in Tobago.
Despite my fascination will all these practices, I have not had enough time to fully learn about each of the groups that bring their own flavor to Trinidad and Tobago’s rich cultural stew. Still, I know that seeing these new rituals has opened my eyes to the fact that the world holds so much that I do not yet know. Knowledge is my greatest academic, professional, and personal goal now. I have a passion to learn about all these practices, and perhaps be able to value and utilize them in better understanding the patients with whom I will work in the field of medicine. 

I feel that I will not grasp the full impact of my study abroad experience on my understanding of the world until I return to the United States and absorb the changes. Embracing the different cognitions and practices around the world is undoubtedly a great help in any career, and will help to build stronger relations between myself and others I meet. I am now, more than ever, eager to learn!