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Low friends in high places
Searching for beauty in Haleland Park is an uphill task: you don’t find it at ground level, even on the golf course, where neither rose nor wildflower is allowed to bloom to disturb the fairway’s functionality; nor can you even properly look for beauty there: a security guard will inform you coldly that you’re trespassing on private property. And, walking back to a public roadway that suffers Japanese vehicles only if they’re bearing students to Trinity College, it becomes easy to extrapolate from the private, guarded Moka to the soon-to-be-private, guarded Maracas Beach a few kilometres down the North Coast Road; or it would be, Maracas, private and security-guarded, in the future, if there were no DDI (the new, Facebook/Twitter-generated term for “Down the Islands”) that keeps the unwanted away by virtue of a moat called the Gulf of Paria. In my own lifetime, I’ve watched Trinidad segregate itself from itself.
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