Penny Dixon

Wow, a week ago I was just getting ready to go to the Plantation in Barbados for what turned out to be the last of my revelling nights. I had to turn down the offer to go to McBride’s on Sunday night to listen to techno music, on the grounds that I could hardly stand up from fatigue. And seriously, could techno top the whole reggae experience of Wednesday night?

The sleep thing was not to happen last night. At 6.45 p.m. I had a call from the head of the open campus of the University of the West Indies, (someone Gracelyn had given my details in terms of developing some course on parenting), asking whether I would be able to join him and a few other colleagues for a meal at the famous Tapas restaurant at Hastings, as he may not have another opportunity to meet with me before my departure on Monday. I naturally said ‘yes’ and was rewarded with a most splendid night of gorgeous food and lovely company.

On Thursday I had the pleasure of meeting the Director of PAREDOS, the organisation for parenting education and development in Barbados. It’s a voluntary organisation whose motto ‘building strong communities one family at a time’ is lived in its day to day operations. It reminded me very much of the National Children’s Bureau and of my time there, of people who put children at the centre of everything that they do.

It was heartening to know that there are people working to bring to the wider population of Barbados, and to the Government, the need to have a more integrated and child friendly approach to legislation and to practices in schools and in the home.

It was definitely worth getting only four hours sleep to be able to make this meeting. I hope there will be things we can do together to secure a much brighter future for all the children of Barbados.

Yes, Wednesday night at McBride’s in St Lawrence Gap is Fully Loaded night, the eight piece reggae band that rocked the night through its transition to morning. We were invited by Elvis, the base guitarist who also played with the three piece jazz band at the Plantation lunch on Sunday. What a difference. To encourage people out everything was two-for-one before twelve o’clock. Two admissions for one, four rum and cokes for the price of two and we were set for the night. We began grooving to the recorded beats about half an hour before the band struck up their own brand of throbbing and pulsing tunes.

When the three singers came on stage the temperature shot up several notches. Such energy. They were rocking right from the first song, connecting with the audience, doing the classics to get us going, and when we were humming and purring with them they took it up another notch. We had an hour of them before they stopped for a short break, giving us a chance to refill our glasses and find a bit of personal space before coming back even more charged than before for another hour.

They kept it fresh by using different voices, different styles, by playing around with the songs, using DJ restarts and by totally connecting with the mood of the audience. I loved every minute of it. Still suffering from getting to bed at 4.45 a.m. Still trying to recapture a few hours.

Yesterday I spent pretty much the whole day in Bridgetown. I began by delivering the books to Pages Bookstore warehouse on White Park Road. Then I met David Goddard who took me to meet the journalist at The Nation, with whom I left a copy of my book to be reviewed in the paper some time in the new year. David then spent time showing me his Capital. He showed me streets that could easily have been parts of Georgetown, Guyana, the only thing missing was the stagnant water. Then he showed me the other, more well known Bridgetown. Cave Shepherd, and the rest of Broad St, the churches and other splendid buildings, including the Houses of Parliament; the marina with its million dollars moorings.

We sat in Independence Square and watched the sun go down, watched lovers meet and old men huddle in groups. Heard them curse the beggars. ‘If you want money for milk, try finding a cow – it would be free.’ The beggars seemed undeterred as they moved to the next group, or person. We were approached by at least three, each with a different story, none receiving gifts from us. While not feeling threatened in any way, I felt a little uncomfortable. Felt I could have broken the mould and given something, but I took my lead from my guide and said, ‘no, not today.’ and wondered what Jesus would have done.

The square took on a fairytale appearance in the dark. The yellow and blue Independence lights strung across the city, around and across the river, gave a magical feel to the night. The dark shapes were no longer old men, beggars and people making their way home, but fairies and nymphs, gnomes and princes gliding through a wonderland of colour that twinkled in the backdrop of the night.

We walked the length of Brown’s Beach and marvelled at the fairy castle in the distance. Only close up did it become the Hilton. David was proud to show his homeland, proud to be a citizen of this island where the only place with more centenarians is Japan. Proud to be in a well governed and well organised country, where the infrastructure works and its safe to walk the beaches at night. And so he should be.