Easter in the Village

Good Morning peeps. Its Easter time and I’m feeling a little lost. Yesterday, Good Friday, Jo went to work so I stayed in bed most of the morning; I didn’t feel like doing a thing. Our bedroom faces south; I opened the drapes and just enjoyed the sun, simple pleasures. I finally decided that I could not continue the good living so I got up around 11. I was then faced with a bit of a dilemma, should I drink my breakfast or should I go to the restaurant and pig out. I wished I had some mangoes and custard apples it would have made my decision a lot easier.

As I sat around drinking my delicious protein drink mixed with frozen fruits and berries, yes I decided to stay home, although it not say it was my first choice, I felt a little disappointed for not choosing to go pig out, my mind began to wonder back to Trafalgar Village and my early days.

My mom was extremely religious; my dad was a broogadoom, read it how you like. I grew up half like my mom and the other half, well never mind, I won’t explain. Easter was about church, my mom, special foods and kites, lots of opportunities to show my many sides, im a Gemini.

Always on Good Friday, we would go to church. I have lots of siblings, 12 to be exact, but the last 5 of the kids are very close in age, so we would all go to church together, marching up the road like ducklings trailing behind my mom, of course me in the rear, looking for a chance to escape. I liked church mind you, just preferred to be elsewhere. In my pass musings I wrote about how i ‘saved’ money for the movies from the money my mom gave me to place in the offering plate, i won’t repeat how I did it. In hindsight I could have been a magician; tricking my mom into thinking I placed the offering in the plate. Yes my dad was a broogadoom, ill blame him. No I’m not a heathen.

Over the Easter weekend there was always lots of food, I love fish head, we had corn and okra, conkies, I believe i spelt it correctly, hmmmmm oh and my favourite cassava bread with coconut filling. Peeps, I could put a whole fish head in my mouth and spit out bones. Today I can only do it when my kids are not around, my act grosses them out. As I sat there drinking my breakfast, I was wishing I could be elsewhere, I would so love a nice ripe juicy mango. I could almost feel the juices running down my chin. My goodness.

I remember it was the Saturday after Good Friday many moons ago, my mom cooked some Cavalli Fish and some other types for dinner, I love fish, my portion and everybody else’s. That day my mom saved the Cavalli for the next day, you know me, why save for the next day when you can have it today. In the middle of the night I snuck into the kitchen and feasted on the fish. That was a bad decision, the fish was poison. No one need to ask who stole the fish, yes it was bad. Never stole fish since, I stuck to stealing Christmas cake.

Well here i am, have not been to jail for being a broogadoom either, although I did get some good whoopings for just being me.

Easter weekend kite flying, wow my favourite passtime. A couple weeks ago this lady came to work wearing colours that remind me of kites. I found myself steering at her, she caught me looking so I had to explain I was not stalking her.

We lived on the west side of the city, the wind blows from east to west, so if you live east of our village and your kite was well constructed it would fly far west. In those days, the string attached to the kites where in high demand. Well as fate would have it, the kites would separate from their owners, haha we called it kites ‘buss’, and drift to the west. Did I mention where we lived, yes it was a great time to harvest the string. You had to be quick though, the owner would follow the path of the kites drifting away screaming ‘kite buss, kite buss’, quite comical, of course that would attract a lot of harvesters, often times fights would break out.

Licks, maybe I took after my dad mostly.

Easter was such a happy time.

As always,

Dont forget to greet a total stranger today.

Purchase and read about another Kittitian early days on the island, my friend Tally.

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