From de valley to Divali
From de valley to Divali . 
My October 31 plans included attending a friend’s Divali light-up, then joining two visiting Norwegian friends for a Divali event at Tropikist Hotel. I had learned of this open-to-the-public offering through a chef friend working there.
Shortly after 2.30 pm that Thursday, I drove to a "valleyish" area to investigate an issue involving some dogs on a hill.
What I thought would be a simple mission turned out to be an adventurous encounter with an almost vertical, unpaved driveway/hill – or "cliff," as my accompanying friend described it. Just looking at the incline activated my fear of heights. Even with my four-wheel drive, I had no intentions of attempting that drive.
Instead, I crawled on all fours, like a gecko climbing a wall – only
Newsday
From de valley to Divali

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My October 31 plans included attending a friend’s Divali light-up, then joining two visiting Norwegian friends for a Divali event at Tropikist Hotel. I had learned of this open-to-the-public offering through a chef friend working there.

Shortly after 2.30 pm that Thursday, I drove to a "valleyish" area to investigate an issue involving some dogs on a hill.

What I thought would be a simple mission turned out to be an adventurous encounter with an almost vertical, unpaved driveway/hill – or "cliff," as my accompanying friend described it. Just looking at the incline activated my fear of heights. Even with my four-wheel drive, I had no intentions of attempting that drive.

Instead, I crawled on all fours, like a gecko climbing a wall – only this was slippery, smooth, clay terrain, muddy from recent rains, full of gouges (which we used for leverage) and clumps of sticky earth. Arriving at the crest of this local Mt Everest seemed to merit a TT flag of victory.

The eventual descent inspired entrepreneurial ideas for a local ski slope and toboggan run – perhaps named "I Love Toboggan" (à la "I Love Tobago" slogan).

>

Back at home, I flopped onto the couch. It was 5.20 and I was due at my friend’s light-up for 5.30. A bath and a rest were all I could consider.

I WhatsApped an apology, accompanied by a short video I had managed to record during the uphill crawl. Visuals speak louder than words, so my friend understood. A bath and power nap renewed me sufficiently and I headed to Tropikist for the 7 pm meet-up.

Not knowing what the Divali experience would entail, I envisioned sweets and possibly roti for sale at the bar/restaurant, with some guests/public milling around a few deyas. My concerns re: “Will there be ample parking if the public is invited and loads of people turn up?” dissipated on arrival. A pleasant guard ushered me to a spacious grassy parking area at the back.

Christmas lights adorned the hotel, and the grass near the entrance, with a display of myriads of deyas on bamboo, was an appealing sight. People, many in Indian wear, milled about, chatting and taking photos/videos.

A fellow Kariwak yoga teacher appeared, saying “I’m sitting at a table over there with someone. Join us.”

I glanced through a space in the hedge, surprised to see a tent with several tables, each laid with dining elements. Were we actually going to be served dinner?

My friends had arrived and we joined the table at which five chairs and table settings were perfect for the five of us. We each had a Styrotex plate, with a folded paper sohari leaf and an elegant drawstring bag containing a generous sample of varied Indian sweets.

An Indian woman in eastern wear took to the mike, extending a warm Divali welcome. She then invited us to the back, to light an array of deyas – some of which were laid out to spell "Tropikist." Lighters were distributed and everyone, from starry-eyed children to elders, lit up accordingly.

>

Dinner was a commendably delicious array of vegetarian Indian items (I chose pumpkin, bodi, potato and channa) with buss up shot roti, and we all loved the fruit punch.

My friend, revisiting Tobago for the umpteenth time, had wisely chosen October to bring her boyfriend (first-timer) – to catch both Carnival and Divali.

As we dined, I said to her, “Isn’t it amazing that we can just turn up at this hotel, walk in, sit at a table like honoured guests and enjoy an amazing meal and treats...all for free?”

“Yes!” she said, probably thinking that this could never happen in Norway.

It was as if we had crashed a party meant for paying hotel guests, but instead were simply experiencing true hospitality.

That degree of hospitality is what I knew of Divali in Trinidad before people became terrified of crime and suspicious of "strangers." I will never forget at Divali 2013 in Trinidad, a friend and I, admiring deyas on a village back street, being invited in by a family we had never met, and wined and dined like royalty before leaving for home, laden with sweets.

Kudos to Tropikist for "going beyond" (to use that touristic Tobago phrase) with its beautiful Divali event. We felt special, and we appreciated the efforts of all who made it possible.

If only every encounter and experience in TT could light our hearts as well.

>
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2024-11-03
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My October 31 plans included attending a friend’s Divali light-up, then joining two visiting Norwegian friends for a Divali event at Tropikist Hotel. I had learned of this open-to-the-public offering through a chef friend working there.
Shortly after 2.30 pm that Thursday, I drove to a "valleyish" area to investigate an issue involving some dogs on a hill.
What I thought would be a simple mission turned out to be an adventurous encounter with an almost vertical, unpaved driveway/hill – or "cliff," as my accompanying friend described it. Just looking at the incline activated my fear of heights. Even with my four-wheel drive, I had no intentions of attempting that drive.
Instead, I crawled on all fours, like a gecko climbing a wall – only this was slippery, smooth, clay terrain, muddy from recent rains, full of gouges (which we used for leverage) and clumps of sticky earth. Arriving at the crest of this local Mt Everest seemed to merit a TT flag of victory.
The eventual descent inspired entrepreneurial ideas for a local ski slope and toboggan run – perhaps named "I Love Toboggan" (à la "I Love Tobago" slogan).
Back at home, I flopped onto the couch. It was 5.20 and I was due at my friend’s light-up for 5.30. A bath and a rest were all I could consider.
I WhatsApped an apology, accompanied by a short video I had managed to record during the uphill crawl. Visuals speak louder than words, so my friend understood. A bath and power nap renewed me sufficiently and I headed to Tropikist for the 7 pm meet-up.
Not knowing what the Divali experience would entail, I envisioned sweets and possibly roti for sale at the bar/restaurant, with some guests/public milling around a few deyas. My concerns re: “Will there be ample parking if the public is invited and loads of people turn up?” dissipated on arrival. A pleasant guard ushered me to a spacious grassy parking area at the back.
Christmas lights adorned the hotel, and the grass near the entrance, with a display of myriads of deyas on bamboo, was an appealing sight. People, many in Indian wear, milled about, chatting and taking photos/videos.
A fellow Kariwak yoga teacher appeared, saying “I’m sitting at a table over there with someone. Join us.”
I glanced through a space in the hedge, surprised to see a tent with several tables, each laid with dining elements. Were we actually going to be served dinner?
My friends had arrived and we joined the table at which five chairs and table settings were perfect for the five of us. We each had a Styrotex plate, with a folded paper sohari leaf and an elegant drawstring bag containing a generous sample of varied Indian sweets.
An Indian woman in eastern wear took to the mike, extending a warm Divali welcome. She then invited us to the back, to light an array of deyas – some of which were laid out to spell "Tropikist." Lighters were distributed and everyone, from starry-eyed children to elders, lit up accordingly.
[caption id="attachment_1118314" align="alignnone" width="541"] -[/caption]
Dinner was a commendably delicious array of vegetarian Indian items (I chose pumpkin, bodi, potato and channa) with buss up shot roti, and we all loved the fruit punch.
My friend, revisiting Tobago for the umpteenth time, had wisely chosen October to bring her boyfriend (first-timer) – to catch both Carnival and Divali.
As we dined, I said to her, “Isn’t it amazing that we can just turn up at this hotel, walk in, sit at a table like honoured guests and enjoy an amazing meal and treats...all for free?”
“Yes!” she said, probably thinking that this could never happen in Norway.
It was as if we had crashed a party meant for paying hotel guests, but instead were simply experiencing true hospitality.
That degree of hospitality is what I knew of Divali in Trinidad before people became terrified of crime and suspicious of "strangers." I will never forget at Divali 2013 in Trinidad, a friend and I, admiring deyas on a village back street, being invited in by a family we had never met, and wined and dined like royalty before leaving for home, laden with sweets.
Kudos to Tropikist for "going beyond" (to use that touristic Tobago phrase) with its beautiful Divali event. We felt special, and we appreciated the efforts of all who made it possible.
If only every encounter and experience in TT could light our hearts as well.

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From de valley to Divali