Our Caribbean Escape

I can't explain my love for the Caribbean.

Maybe it's the slow paced lifestyle, or being so close to the sea or rainforest, but something about the islands makes me feel more alive. More connected to my life's purpose. My dad grew up on an island. Hearing his stories  about Trinidad from a young age could have kickstarted my soul connection with this place, or perhaps my attachment to it is quite literally running through my veins...that is certainly the way it feels.

 My dad is relatively closed off. The love is there, the provision and service is there. But we are hard pressed to peel back all of his layers and learn about him as an individual, rather than him as a father. There is such a story there. So many feelings and memories that I haven't yet tapped into. So being in the Caribbean WITH him is something to celebrate. Listening to the language he speaks, watching him interact with the people. Seeing the types of houses he lived in, tasting the fruits he ate and being IN the places he recalled when he was little.... There is nothing quite like the connectedness that I feel when I'm there.

So when I found out last year that I would soon be able to experience beautiful St. Lucia with my entire extended family, I knew this would be ten times more special than I could have imagined. 

The Caribbean, where I am able to witness the most wonderful things... And simultaneously experience the most terrible. 

When I considered writing this blog on my trip, I thought about recalling all of the trips events.

I realize today that reading that wouldn't be interesting. I mean, it's not hard to guess what we did on the resort. Drinks everyday before noon. Spending hours in the sea, and at the swim up pool bar. Dinners every night together. Limited wifi. Soca, reggae and dancehall music. Lots and lots of dancing, after all, "it's just a likkle wine!" Water sports including but not limited to - water skiing, kayaking, paddle boarding. Riding a jetski for the first time and breaking about 50 water rules that my cousin and I were unaware of. Sun bathing, boat rides, and exploring little shops and crevices of the island. Getting about 10 proposals of marriage from the locals, a cousin a piece. 

St. Lucia can be easily identified as one of my new favourite places on earth. The people are friendly, the rainforest is abundant and the sky is clear, literally all the time. I still think back and can't believe I spent an entire day inside of a volcano, exploring a cocoa slave plantation, eating fresh coconuts and drinking homemade tamarind juice and swimming in a waterfall. 

And all of these things, as wonderful and breathtaking as they were could not even begin to prepare us for the outcome of this trip. They fall so secondary to the way I felt on the last day, when I had time to reflect on the weeks events. So that's why in this particular blog, rather than gushing about the little details of the trip and the things I got to see and experience, I choose instead to write about the group I was with. Because they were the reason why this experience was pure magic for me.

 I also choose to preface this blog with reminder for you who may read it, that on a global scale, as far as we have come from the cocoa plantation days, colonialism is still alive and well. You can smell it in the air when you are there. Or at least I did. And while we are greeted at the airport with tons of smiles and generous helpers, "welcoming us to paradise," the unfair and inevatible divide between tourist and local, the unequal amount of wealth and power in the world, and the danger that all of us, and all of you, can be put in when visiting a place like this, proves that my beautiful escape is far from paradise. That thought robs me from my sleep. And I think thats why I am determined to go back. 

***

Our last morning on the resort was one I will never forget. That morning I walked the resort grounds early. I left my room reluctantly listening to the same song I had listened to every morning, feeling the breeze on my face and the sun on my skin. But this time it felt different. My feet, which had normally stepped to the beat of the song, dragged sluggishly. The thoughts of gratitude, excitement and hope that I got each morning while walking to the beach to greet my family had slowly turned into thoughts of sadness, and stillness. I wasn't ready to leave. I hung my head low as I walked passed the workers standing behind the bar and maintaining the gardens. People who had greeted me so pleasantly every morning... It was hard to think that I would likely never see them again. The breeze felt thick, hard to swallow. The funny thing is I don't know if everyone there felt it too, or if I was just projecting my anxiety on everyone. But the resort felt quiet, like it had lost a little piece of life that was so integral to my enthusiasm on the trip.The little piece of life that everyone felt, and vocally expressed. Our family had brought life to the entire compound. 

I would miss the island. I would miss the heat. I would miss the strong, thick women that made my coffee each morning with pleasure. The men who were clever, and funny, and somehow made calling me "baby" every five minutes more comforting than something to be nervous about. I would miss the fluid nature of the accent, and listening to my new friends slip creole words into their everyday conversation, words that I hoped to one day understand. 

But more than anything, I would miss that feeling of closeness with my family. Something that I always feel in the distance, but was physically projected onto all of us throughout this week, 

So much so that the other tourists on the resort deemed it necessary to meet us, and ask us questions.

So much so that the workers felt compelled to introduce themselves to my grandmother, the matriarch whose influence led us all to keep this bond with one another. 

It's not often that a group of 25 goes on holiday for no apparent reason, apart from just being together. No weddings, or introductions, or grand events. Just a burning desire to spend time with each other exploring a different part of the world. Something we have never gotten to do in that large of a group before.

 On our last dinner together, as I watched my family interact, immersed in deep conversation, laughter, and wine- I took a minute to breathe the entire trip in. I could no longer look at them without crying, so instead I turned towards the sea. I watched the stray cats walking from table to table, looking for food. I watched lights from the city across the way, flashing, as if they were dancing on the waves. I inhaled the smell of sea salt combined with the bath oil my cousins and I had lathered on our bodies earlier that evening.

In that moment I could not help but feel gratitude and peace. This trip, and on that night specifically, I discovered that this family vacation was more than just that, but a moment of clarity. I looked around at the faces that weren't there from the get go, but who's faces our family would be incomplete without. Boyfriends, and girlfriends, and new spouses, and babies. I can't begin to picture what we will look like ten years from now, and how many new members we will openly welcome and embrace into our group. 

I recognized then, that the older generation sitting at the table next to us had done such a good job at ensuring, and we, the young people, had done such a good job of CHOOSING to protect, support, and love each other. This was no longer some obligatory holiday dinner that forced us to be together. This was a conscious and deliberate choice to acknowledge our friendship, that I know will last, far beyond the time when WE are the ones sitting at the parents table, watching our own kids laugh about nothing, and everything. 

Family will always be family. Friends will always be friends. I am humbled and amazed to know, that this group will always be both. 

One love. And until next time,

Meaghan

Beach football

Learning to jetski

At one of the most gorgeous views in Souffre, St. Lucia

Nightly ritual at the coffee shop

Watching the mule operate the sugar cane machine

Getting into trouble

Beautiful Theresa

Obsessing over baby Abby

The parental crew <3 

My family in front of le Piton <3

Grandma trying a "Bob Marley" for the first time!
The oldest on the trip. 

And the youngest. Baby Abby

My brother, Jason. Soaking up the scenery 

Sisters. Now I know where me and my cousins get it from!

Rum Punch with my cousin, Linds <3

Exploring the cocoa plantation

An old slave hut. In this tiny bedroom, usually 8 - 12 slaves would sleep. Parents on the bed, and the children on the floor. So moving. 

Muscles With Meags in full effect on this trip! Patrick and Peggy getting it done!

Theresa and George <3

Patrick enjoying a Piton. The man of the hour <3

Hanging out in a waterfall with my two sisters. Black on black!

Morning stretch class with mom

Beautiful Katie exploring the waterfall!

Just a little wine!!!!

Sunsets on the beach <3