RAD­HI­CA DE SIL­VA

Se­nior Mul­ti­me­dia Re­porter

rad­hi­ca.sookraj@guardian.co.tt

High in the west­ern stretch of Trinidad’s North­ern Range, where the road nar­rows and the land falls away sharply to­ward the Caribbean Sea, Paramin sits wrapped in cloud and breeze.

It is here, more than 2,000 feet above sea lev­el near La Vigie’s Peak, that Ru­pert Con­stan­tine has made a qui­et name for him­self among lo­cals and vis­i­tors alike.

On the edge of the cliff, where cold mist drifts in on the wind, Con­stan­tine and his busi­ness part­ner Ker­ry Ann Eu­gene tend a mud oven, flip­ping co­conut bake from an iron pot while hot co­coa tea steams near­by. The scent alone is of­ten enough to stop hik­ers and sight­seers in their tracks.

Con­stan­tine’s broad smile is as much a part of the ex­pe­ri­ence as the food. As vis­i­tors sit on bench­es dec­o­rat­ed with in­for­ma­tion about Trinidad and To­ba­go’s ca­lyp­so­ni­ans, such as Singing San­dra, Spar­row and Lord Kitch­en­er, along­side trib­utes to na­tion­al sport­ing he­roes, they are wel­comed in­to a space that re­flects the pride and hos­pi­tal­i­ty of Paramin.

Con­stan­tine told WE that he has been cook­ing tra­di­tion­al food for sev­er­al years, but it is on­ly re­cent­ly that more in­ter­na­tion­al tourists have been mak­ing the jour­ney up the wind­ing road to Paramin to ex­pe­ri­ence its set­ting and cul­ture.

What be­gan as an in­for­mal act of hos­pi­tal­i­ty grad­u­al­ly grew in­to a small busi­ness ven­ture, shaped not by com­mer­cial am­bi­tion but by a de­sire to share what Paramin has to of­fer. Con­stan­tine’s easy­go­ing de­meanour, his pierc­ing grey eyes, and his ready smile make con­ver­sa­tion come eas­i­ly against the back­drop of sweep­ing sea views. His pride in his com­mu­ni­ty and his peo­ple shine in his eyes.

He said Paramin is one of Trinidad’s old­est vil­lages, trac­ing its roots to French set­tlers who ar­rived dur­ing the Cedu­la of Pop­u­la­tion in the late 18th cen­tu­ry. Ac­cord­ing to Con­stan­tine, some vil­lagers still speak Pa­tois, and while the com­mu­ni­ty re­tains el­e­ments of that French her­itage—fam­i­ly names and Ro­man Catholic tra­di­tions among them—the val­ues of com­mu­ni­ty life re­main strong.

“Not every­one knows and un­der­stands hos­pi­tal­i­ty like us,” he said.

While he ac­knowl­edged that younger gen­er­a­tions are not as close­ly tied to vil­lage life as the old-timers, Con­stan­tine said Paramin re­mains large­ly free from crime. Theft, rob­beries and what he de­scribed as skul­dug­gery are not fea­tures of every­day life in the hills, some­thing he be­lieves sets the com­mu­ni­ty apart.

“Most peo­ple don’t know about the coun­try life, they don’t know about all the good food we have up there,” he said.

Life in Paramin, he said, is shaped by rou­tine, land­scape and long-stand­ing re­la­tion­ships. “The peo­ple are es­pe­cial­ly liv­ing here so peace­ful­ly and qui­et, so peo­ple stay in the ar­eas. And then you just en­joy the at­mos­phere and the breeze you will be get­ting,” he said.

Agri­cul­ture re­mains cen­tral to vil­lage life. Res­i­dents cul­ti­vate crops on the steep Paramin hill­sides us­ing nat­ur­al spring wa­ter from the hills. Be­yond the well-known chive fields, vil­lagers grow peas, toma­toes, cel­ery and cab­bage, sus­tain­ing both house­holds and small-scale trade.

Morn­ings, Con­stan­tine said, are among the most strik­ing times in Paramin. As the sun ris­es, mist rolls across the hills, and cold winds sweep through the vil­lage. “In the morn­ing, you’re go­ing to see the sun­rise and the misty cold winds. And dur­ing dif­fer­ent times of the year, you see some­times see the sun just come out in a dif­fer­ent di­rec­tion. It is very beau­ti­ful to see,” he said.

El­e­ments of French pa­tois are still heard in the vil­lage, passed down through gen­er­a­tions, but Con­stan­tine re­grets that his own knowl­edge is lim­it­ed. “I did not get to learn too much of pa­tois be­cause my fa­ther died be­fore he fin­ished teach­ing me how to speak pa­tois,” he said.

In re­cent years, Paramin has drawn grow­ing in­ter­est from vis­i­tors seek­ing hik­ing, food, cul­ture and tra­di­tion­al med­i­cine. Bush med­i­cine, Con­stan­tine said, con­tin­ues to be part of dai­ly life. “Right now every­body wants to go to the bush med­i­cine, and that is what we have here,” he said, ex­plain­ing that reme­dies are pre­pared from plants grown or gath­ered in the sur­round­ing hills.

He al­so spoke of less­er-known trails and beach­es ac­ces­si­ble from Paramin, in­clud­ing long, steep de­scents on foot that res­i­dents are ac­cus­tomed to nav­i­gat­ing.

Saut D’eau Beach is most pop­u­lar, but avid hik­ers al­so ven­ture to Para­grant Bay, a near­by coastal bay on the north coast, a short dis­tance from Paramin.

While fa­mil­iar to vil­lagers, Con­stan­tine not­ed that the ter­rain can be chal­leng­ing for those un­fa­mil­iar with it. “Peo­ple in the com­mu­ni­ty do it,” he said.

De­spite lim­it­ed de­vel­op­ment, Con­stan­tine said Paramin con­tin­ues to at­tract in­ter­est be­cause of its set­ting and way of life. “If you want peace and qui­et, come to Paramin,” he said. As tourism grows, he be­lieves the com­mu­ni­ty’s strength lies in shar­ing its tra­di­tions rather than chang­ing them. “To live well with peo­ple,” Con­stan­tine said, is one of the main lessons vis­i­tors take with them when they leave the hills. This is what we want to share with oth­ers. “

Any­one in­ter­est­ed in vis­it­ing Paramin can con­tact Con­stan­tine at 389-0823.

Di­rec­tions to Paramin Hut

To get to Con­stan­tine’s Paramin Food Hut near La Vigie Paramin Look­out, dri­ve north through Mar­aval and take the main road up in­to Paramin. The road is ex­treme­ly steep but scenic. Fol­low the steep road care­ful­ly, wind­ing past the vil­lage cen­tre and con­tin­ue to­ward the high­est ridges along Fond Pois Doux Road.