“I’m a bitch of a woman and I’m proud of that.” Those words, combined with full eye contact and the feeling of the freight train-like force of a person who has faced challenges and trampled adversity to realize a near life-long goal would bring any listener to full attention. I sat taller on the barstool at a restaurant called Costa Riba in San Nicolaas, Aruba when its proprietor, a wife and mother of two, average height with long shiny black hair spoke to me of the travails endured and joy experienced since opening the doors to the place that had been on her mind since the age of 19. Kamini’s presence, at once, can be inviting-her eyes, intimidating-her stare, palliative-her smile, startling-her laugh. All together, she’s a character.
Born on the tiny island of Trinidad, she, like this writer from small town USA, swung away at discouraging words from folks (some friends, some family) whose speech indicated the scope of their minds’ aspirations reached no farther than the geographical boundaries of the area of their birth. “I didn’t listen to them,” Kamini said. Until this, our first full conversation, I was not sure how to read her. Our interactions had been cordial, though strictly business. She’d hired me by reference from a friend of her’s to clean, that is “choppy”, her yard. I’d performed to standard and was on the second round of work at Costa Riba when this, the first chance to sit and listen to what she had to say occurred. I discovered we have significant similarities in our histories.
She left home years ago to make a way for herself in a different environment. Same here. She took work within her interests and below her skill set to get to where she wanted to be. Me too. After all that, Kamini comes across as self-possessed and confident. I believe such is due to the emotional and intestinal muscle a person develops after turning from the beaten path, shunning negativity to make a new course and break ground in a personal promised land. “When you want something, you have to pray to G-d to give strength to keep driving at the goal.” Amen. Costa Riba, open for 10 months at the time of our conversation, is a family enterprise. Husband and children serve drinks, take plates, greet and close-up after the flow of tourists, oil refinery workers and local friends trickle out before the 10PM closing time.
I’d been waiting for the opportunity to ask a few questions and tell my story when the get back to work look beset the expression on Kamini’s face. I smiled inwardly as I thought of what I imagined her to be thinking. “Nice chatting Dushi, but you’re on the clock.” Choppy (that is a hoe) in-hand, I slid my tense quadriceps and glutei off the seat and put my back to the work of up-rooting the grass and weeds around the restaurant parking lot and backyard. I reached levity in recollection of the story of focus and persistence Kamini told. I smiled longer and bigger as the tool making callouses on both of my palms lost weight and the flora loosened in cooperation with my effort and goal.
