Pitons and Sheep

People on the island are always preparing for one. They spend time anticipating. They talk about it. It’s on the radio and television. There are events leading up to it. They are at the center of their culture. My village is one of four lucky villages who are “officially” planning a celebration, although unofficially just about every village is planning their own celebration. It’s party time…again. It seems that there is always something to celebrate. The island is one big party. There is Carnival which is a national holiday , the Jazz Festival, Village Days, even OctoberFest. But right now we are busy preparing for Jounen Kreywol (Creole Day).

The purpose is to celebrate and educate Saint Lucian’s about their cultural heritage – but really, it’s a party. The official date for this activity is the last weekend in October; however, because of the level of excitement in the air, there are events that lead to the official activity. Tonight was a re-creation of an authentic Indian Wedding Ceremony. The acoustics in the room were poor and the speakers were load…really load. This is very normal. If it’s load, it’s a party.

When I walk down the streets of any village or the capital there is very loud music coming from shops. There is a rum shop on each corner as well as in the middle of the block. There are make-shift bars on street corners. Many have speaker systems in their cars which they park, blasting music while people gather. Drinking Piton’s (the local beer) on the street, listening to music, and catching up with friends is a typical scene after work. There are tables and chairs set up outside various shops (some rum shops, some restaurants, some clothing stores) and people are drinking and playing dominoes. Music draws people – and, therefore, loud competing music is the order of the day. People drive cars with loud speakers, marketing various products – mostly phone carriers. Music is played between advertising messages.


Nina fixed my hair, Lucian style. Nisha, her sister, argued with her about how to comb it, insisting she could do it better. They are still talking about braiding my hair in corn rows, but there is not enough time tonight. The wedding will be in the village at 7:00 – Saint Lucian time, meaning the wedding will probably take place between nine and ten. The village is where people lime (hang-out) in my community. It is a street in the village that is filled with restaurants and rum shops and loud music. The hall rented for the event is upstairs. As Bea and I drive up we can hear Indian music competing with Reggae at one end of the street and Country music at the other. There are liming people everywhere. It’s very much like a street party. There is little doubt where we are going. We follow the sound of the Indian music. We walk past the person stationed outside the door who is collecting a EC$2 entrance fee and walk up the steps. It is dark and there are a few ceiling fans, some of which work. The floor is cement and the walls are painted a bright blue. There are at least a dozen speakers set up around the room. Each speaker is bigger than me and I notice men struggling when they move them. There is a stage at the far end of the room which is somewhat difficult to see because it’s the darkest part of the room. There are lights throughout the room; some of which work. There is a bar with a list of drinks available written on the small chalkboard positioned on the wall behind the bar. Bea and I walk past the bar and into the room behind it. This is where we are going to set up the food which will be sold. This room is used as a gym during the day. People in Saint Lucia are aware of the benefits of healthy lifestyles. There are signs on the walls “No Pain, No Gain” and “No Idle bodies”. There are exercise balls, free weights and benches.

I think of my son, Jay. He would likely look at this as an eating opportunity. I look at it as an eating nightmare. I don’t really understand Indian food and they have slaughtered a sheep for the event which makes the food even more distasteful in my mind. Fortunately for me, I’ve been assigned to a country that values people who have chosen vegetarianism. When I tell people I only eat chicken and fish on rare occasions and never red meats, they respond in a positive manner. Most have at least tried to be vegetarians and view it as a healthy lifestyle. Things are only partially set up and people are coming in ready to purchase food. I quickly realize they need help. I put my purse under one of the table-clothed draped tables and step behind the tables ready to serve. There is a steady stream of hungry Saint Lucian families. It isn’t just the young party-going crowd that lime. Liming is a family activity.

The music is turned off and the Master of Ceremonies has the microphone. The sound system is the perfect storm. Squeaking and squealing sounds are coming through the huge speakers around the room. No one pays much attention to the imperfections. The speakers were never turned down. He has a thick accent. All these things make it difficult to understand what is being communicated. At times I’m not sure if he’s speaking Kreyol or English. Lucian’s speak so fast that their English is barely understandable. Hearing small bits and pieces of information, I piece together the message. The person who is to officiate the wedding has issued a statement of regrets. He had a funeral to attend and won’t make it to the celebration. The MC goes on to describe what a wedding might look like if we were to actually see it. This takes up several minutes. No one seems to mind because there is plenty of Piton and Sheep left to consume. I wish I knew more about the cultural aspect of this Indian Wedding, but I don’t. What I do know is this: it was a great party! What I am hoping is that my ear drums hold up during these two years.