Ahmmm who am I? I not going no small fete? No big fete? No free or even paid fete?
Same body but who soul dis?
Geez! Is this ole age?
Let me preface this by stating very clearly that I LOVE carnival. LOVE! I especially and mostly only truly LOVE jouvert. I am always enthralled by the energy of the people.
Everybody, and I mean every single body (even the bodies that do not partake in the festivities) cannot help the rhythmical way they walk around just doing simple every day task. It's who we are! Don't deny the sway! Trinis sway but there's an undeniable extraness during the carnival season. It's a deliberate but subtle movement of the hip as we enjoy the inaudible melody that is stuck in our minds from listening to the same hits over and over. I. Love. Us.
This year I couldn't.
Last November I was home for two weeks. Upon my return to Florida, it took me weeks to piece myself together. WEEKS!
The water tastes differently. The food is not the same. The people are unalike. The music. The energy. The roads. The landscape. The food (yeah, take note of the art of emphasis). The pepper sauce!!!
I am not the same. Each time I return I feel like I have to take some time to grieve. There's something about home that hugs me tightly. It's never easy to leave.
This year I couldn't.
It's also not a vacation! Seriously! It's home. There are things to attend to. There are the 'you here?' phone calls that guilt you into unplanned visits. The business of the day. The traffic. The family bacchanal. A trip home for me can best be described as a nicely packaged dose of exhilaration and exhaustion.
This year I couldn't.
BUT!
If you made it to the greatest show on earth, I hope you 'jump like you never jump and wave like you never wave'.
I'll go home when there are less people to share the mountains and the food and the pepper sauce!!!
Follow me on the socials @cindyannboisson.
