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Thread: The Mosquitorose Story

  1. #1
    scotchbonnet Guest

    The Mosquitorose Story

    Disclaimer: this was not true of all Belizean kids. I am talking here of the very poor, the street urchins, of whom I was one. I used to see a lot of kids on their verandas looking down at us urchins, roaming the streets and getting into all kinds of mischief. We used to call them sissies to protect our prides. Not that these kids didn’t play with us, they did. But they were the ones in the nice clothes and anklets, maybe they even had a wrist-watch. Their mothers always kept an eye on these “varanda” kids and these kids always kept an eye on us. An eye with a tinge of envy.

  2. #2
    scotchbonnet Guest
    There had been pouring down rains three days in a row. Belize City was high water time and the yards were mostly little swimming pools. The kids were having a great time playing in the dirty water refusing to listen to their mothers about disease and sickness brewing in the flood. The splishing and the splashing went on all over town and when you were tired of your little pool you went to play in the neighbor’s pool. A good time was had by all.
    But the greatest draw, the mother of all temptations--was the drains! As the water flooded the city, the drains became centers of activities. These cement drains, open half-mooned shaped, set in the edges of the city streets carried away the excess water like the Venous system carries blood back to the heart. Drains were mapped all over the city and they all led to the same place: the mighty canal, or as Belizeans say affectionately kinnel. The kinnel swept away all the city’s waste then graciously dumped itself into the Caribbean Sea.

  3. #3
    scotchbonnet Guest
    The drains formed a living system especially when they were overflowing like they were in this story. You could see little whirlpools spinning around; you could see tiny streams of undertow current building up, and you could feel gentle ripples of cool water caressing you feet when you stuck them in. You could find what the adults called garbage in them but the kids knew better. Not every single thing was garbage. Sometimes there was a .01cent coin, sometimes a spool of thread (the big kind from the tailor shop) and the Good Lord was really smiling down on you when you found a French Letter, because then lots of kids would come from all over to see it and you could feel great pride (pride = a commodity in short supply among urchins) in your heart. The older kids would try to guess whose brother/father used that French Letter on whose sister/mother. Big teasing, big jokes but sometimes big punches in the head if things went too far.

  4. #4
    scotchbonnet Guest
    Sometimes, you could see a brown log floating getting ready to come at you. That’s when you must rush out quickly because the brown stuff was definitely not chocolate.
    But the greatest treasure of all to be found in those drains were Poopsies. You were measured by the amount of Poopsies you managed to collect. In my circle of lofty friends, this was a given.


    Will continue story in a little while. I’m still dizzy from the way the market went today. Plus, I have to close out for the week and since I’m going to hubby’s Christmas party tomorrow I won’t have much time. Got to try to look decent instead of my old bag lady look.

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
    Location
    gumagarugu
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    2,205

    dress down BEZ!....look like me and you soon drop down dead di wait fi dis tory!!

    BTW welcome to di board scotchbonnet....
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    "Men always want to be a woman's first love - women like to be a mans last romance." - Oscar Wilde

  6. #6
    scotchbonnet Guest
    Thanks for the welcome, Beme.
    Gial, u no sarry fi mi? Yesterday I was nice and plump and years younger but today when Bez took that picture of me I could plainly see that I got wasted away overnight. I'm under a lot of stress from the way the market went today plus trying to pump out a story that you all could see and feel the way things were in Belize back when I was growing up.
    Well thank God tomorrow is my hubby's Christmas party so I can get some free food and try to build up my blood lee bit.

    I'll be telling the little story bit at a time because writing isn't easy, it's hard. I already see flaws in what I've written so far. Hardest job ever is raising a child, writing carefully is second.

  7. #7
    zenflower Guest
    Gyal Bemetu, everybady di wait enna line fram mawning fi di tory, lol... this is what you call a cliffhanger.

  8. #8
    zenflower Guest
    Quote Originally Posted by scotchbonnet View Post

    I'll be telling the little story bit at a time because writing isn't easy, it's hard. I already see flaws in what I've written so far. Hardest job ever is raising a child, writing carefully is second.
    Scotchbonnet, our writing style on here is never perfect and everybody just lean wid it/ rock wid it. It is just candid and in the moment. I was just telling another recent member, Jim since he too is into writing chapters like myself, lol.. that when I was new to the board I also took a lot of time writing extensively to express lots of details and thought. But after a while, you will find that its just like talking back and forth. Besides, yu see all di skelingtan dem whe di drop down dead from waiting to walk down memory lane with you, hearing bout those good ole days, lol...

  9. #9
    zenflower Guest
    Just kidding Scotchbonnet, no pressure. Mek a left yu lone fi write you ting in peace before you bun me up wid yu peppa. By the way, since me da wata-down creole, whats the difference between this scotch bonnet peppa and habanerro peppa, or is it the same?

  10. #10
    Join Date
    Dec 2003
    Location
    Los Angeles,CA
    Posts
    2,578
    Very descriptive, I'm imagining the setting, look forward to the rest
    Don't start none, won't be none!

  11. #11
    scotchbonnet Guest
    Zen, u rite gial. In today's age we are spoiled by the quickness of information. I want my news hot off the wires.
    I was trying to re-create how storytelling was done in the old days. when would tell about what they would cook the next day, whether it was going to rain from the feel of their bones--in the middle of an anasi story. But okay, let me post the short version.

    Will take a little while though because right now the rest of the story is all blank page right now.

  12. #12
    scotchbonnet Guest
    Quote Originally Posted by zenflower View Post
    whats the difference between this scotch bonnet peppa and habanerro peppa, or is it the same?
    Scotch bonnet is the real Belize pepper. There is a flavor like no other. You can substitute Habanero, but a true Belzean can taste the difference if they grew up on it.

    From a quote: Scotch bonnets are often confused with the habanero, as they are closely related, but not cultivars. They are a pale yellow-green maturing to yellow, orange or red and have bell-shaped squashed-looking ribbed pods. Scotch bonnets have a somewhat smoky apple-cherry and tomato flavor. Scotch bonnets are grown mostly in Jamaica and Belize. They have a cup and saucer shape.

    Now mek a go write tory before dem tar and feather mi behind.

  13. #13
    zenflower Guest
    I tink as much as we'ld love to hearing about those good ole days gone by (at least I do), I tink all de lee skelingtan dem whe di drap down mostly di wait to hear all di tory bout MosquitoRose, I guess since dats the topic of this thread. But don't mind me, I was just joking around. Take all the time you need.

  14. #14
    Another Belizean Guest
    I will scotchbonnet your behine if you don't come with this story you know.

    WT??????????????? H??????????? All this post and NOTHING about ...... what is it again that she called MR.

  15. #15
    scotchbonnet Guest
    About 5 that Saturday evening, Bishop Street was crisp dry except for the drains which were flowing swiftly. The evening spilled soft silver rays all over the houses, fences and the clothes flapping on the lines.
    The other kids had gone inside for tea but intent on catching more Poopsies, my very mischievous older sister and I were still elbow and ankle deep in the left side drain. We had tucked the bottom of our frocks into the legs of our panties. Overhead, we kept our Bata sandals dry, each foot carefully propped on separate slats of the neighbor’s wooden fence.

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