6. A Dance with Danger In Jamaica
In the aftermath of Hurricane Beryl, the four of us sought an escape into the vibrant Jamaican life. But how could a quest for peace spiral into further chaos?
Part 1: Heat, Sleep, Repeat
Part 2: Escapism
Part 3: The Great Escape
Part 4: Catcalls and Close Calls: from Admirers to Escape Artists
Part 5: Rising Tides, from a Storm to a Sanctuary
Heat, Sleep, Repeat
The night was unbearable. I laid in my little bunk bed, with what was like a fishing net swarmed around me, locking in every element of fear and heat. Trapping my thoughts so they could not escape. It was pitch black in the room. I couldn’t see a thing. But, I could feel Phoebe and Angel in the bunk bed beside me. I could hear their breathing, peaceful in a slow tempo, unlike mine- which was fast and sporadic. It seemed that the more I thought about sleeping, the less likely I was to actually sleep. All that consumed my mind was the wind howling outside the window reminding me I was not alone. I could’ve been out there, out in the Hurricane, out in the wreck that was a tree-smacking, plant-flying and ground-shaking Hurricane. But I was not. I was here. Here in my little heat bubble, uncomfortable, but safe.
Escapism
“Most anxiety in the Western world are about your past or your future. Your worries are either about your past actions or your stresses with your potential future ones. It’s exhausting.”
As a method of escapism and a way of not fixating on the current present moment, my mind ended up drifting back to a memory from my first day in Jamaica. A simple conversation played into my mind on repeat. It was like my brain was providing me distraction and comfort. Next thing I know I’m back at Montego Bay Airport. Waiting for our transport to arrive. The feeling of relief poured over me as I saw the sweaty Jamaican man with his towel approaching us and helping us get into the taxi. I held onto that memory. That relief. A relief that would soon be mine again. But what followed was a conversation I remember having with Angel when I first met her. We sat, exhausted yet excited for events to come speaking about everything we were feeling and I felt so comfortable. I then shared what was a funny statement that popped up in my mind. “I have a tactic for when this trip scares me, for when things build up and get too much” I said in a serious tone.
“Oh go on” Angel replies intrigued. “It’s a bit ridiculous,” I said. We both laugh. “Ok. So hear me out. Sebastian from the little mermaid. He’s a Jamaican crab right.” She begins to smile. “That movie always brought me comfort, so being comforting and Sebastian being Jamaican makes him my little spirit guide in my head. I see him in my head with his accent and somehow he ends up being a little cheerleader,” I said.
Angel begins to smile but looks at me with compassion. I remember feeling so stupid in this moment. So baffled by my own words, but she somehow got it. “I kinda love that,” she says. We both then end up giggling “He is who’s in my head helping me when I’m stressing because just getting here was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done” I said. “But I did it, I got off the plane and somehow I owe that to an imaginary crab”.
The exact image I had in my head.
How funny is that? A small, ridiculous comfort where I found some peace.
I quickly come back to the present moment, where I feel the dampness of the plastic sheet underneath me, the clamminess of the pink towel draped over my head, and the thought of a cartoon crab somehow ease the uncomfortable senses.
Yes let’s unpack these buzzwords- damp sheet, bunk bed with a wet pink towel on my head and a cartoon crab which is providing comfort. Yes, I feel I should explain… The damp sheet is due to the programme and the plastic they have to put underneath is so the mattress stays protected. Aka, you sweat, a lot, and it's gross. The bunk bed is due to the layout of the room and the dormitory-style living. The pink towel is a way to keep cool. I used my brain and remember reading somewhere that the top of your head and bottom of your feet control a lot of your body temperature. Therefore, a wet towel is a great way to regulate the body temperature. And well, the crab thing, that’s purely my weird and wonderful mind. But for some reason, these things made me feel better. In such scary, lonely, dark times you have to find things that make you feel better. And this, well- it worked, and I was not about to question it.
Am I mad? Maybe. Should I have left this part out? Possibly. But the message is this:
Most anxiety in the Western world are about your past or your future. Your worries are either about your past actions or your stresses with your potential future ones. It's exhausting. But these fears are either in your past or part of a fear of the future. None usually is actually happening in the present moment. The interaction you had with your boss- in your past. The fear you might not get the job you want- a process of your future. Therefore, grounding your present moment is what is important. The scary thought would arrive, I would accept it and simply let it be. Part of the process Cynthia taught me.
I reminded myself of the reality that morning was on the horizon and would soon follow. When morning breaks, I would’ve made it. Until then, I was to make my own peace (yes the peace that involves a crab) and ride out this heat wave mixed with itchy bitten skin.
The rest of the night was an endless cycle of heat, sleep and repeat. As the night wore on, every hour felt like an eternity. But then, almost imperceptibly, the blackness softened, and the first light of dawn crept in.
Morning eventually came and there was light again. Waking up was weird. It wasn’t a sudden omg I had done it. It was more of a, omg did that all really happen? How is Sam? How is Jade and the family next door? How was the outside? I quickly shot out of bed, much like the other girls and waited for Sam’s return. The tension was high in the room. We all just kind of didn’t say much. I texted my family and friends that I was safe and well which felt like a milestone crossed but I didn’t fancy saying much else as it still felt like a lot was to come. Once all the other girls woke up and started making breakfast we all just naturally gathered to the table and felt the weight of all the questions lur over us. The tense atmosphere transcribed into a UNO game which left us distracted and smiling. We all were unsure of how we were feeling. I sat in a baggy shirt, messy hair with my foot tapping repeatedly awaiting Sam’s pending arrival.
Time has barely passed. Then a little knock at our door followed. We quickly shot up and swung our heads towards the door to see Sam’s smiling face. The natural light beamed from behind her with the wave of relief following. I could finally breathe. We could finally breathe. This was an exciting moment. This was the moment that I waited so patiently for. I began to feel my stiff shoulders drop. My heart slowed and my hands de scrunched. We all just hugged and laughed. We had done it. We were still without power or electricity but we had done it. We were all here, back together and safe.
Sam steps over the wooden ledge that was boarding the door and starts telling us about her experience. About her aunt’s apartment and how luxurious and dark wooded it was. How she felt safe and happy to be with family. How scary it all felt. How could she hear the sounds so clearly and how she too, while around luxury was so scared. We then told her all about Cynthia and how amazing she was. How she calmed me and Angel. How we had no flooding or major damage that was expected. How we had drops of water to shower in when things became so hot and unbearable. We told her about UNO and our dinner of tinned sausages pasta and pesto and how little we could all eat. We were all a mess, but a happy mess. I could breathe.
We wanted to wake up Cynthia to share the good news, but equally, we knew how hard it was to sleep around here. So we grabbed some juice, got ourselves dressed and decided to sit and chat while Angel very kindly began braiding each one of our hair ready for our exploration outside. The four of us sat there smiling, giddy for our explorations to come and excited to feel pampered. There was a communal sense of bonding and laughter. If the chorus of the song ‘Love is a Battlefield’ by Pat Benater was playing at this moment, it would be the perfect chick flick. Except dancing around in our pyjamas would be slightly less low-key due to the heat. We had Angel's tiny fan blowing to add to the scenes. My feeling here was contentment. Pure, blissful, contentment. A feeling we as humans seem to not appreciate enough. Exactly what's going on around you and taking it all in.
Cynthia then awakens, sleepy and slow to join the party. ‘Oh, are we about to go out and get a Jamaican boyfriend’ she says. We all laugh. What follows this group laughter was a sudden break in the peace in the form of footsteps followed by a knock at the door. A relaxed Jade, holding her baby with piercing Disney's eyes, comes in.
“I see we’re all doing okay?” She says. “how are we all feeling” she utters stepping over the wooden plank and walking into our dark little home. The image of four girls with hair braiding and the fifth sipping on the Jamaican coffee was before her. “I see not too badly,” Jade says. We all giggle once more and begin shifting the lightheartedness with the discussions about the expected days without water, electricity and WIFI. However, without wanting to keep the reality of the situation us girls were all on a high and wanted to get out and explore. So we did just that. Jade headed off with her adorable baby and we stepped outside.
Post Hurricane Victory !!
The Great Escape
The beams of sun mixed with the calmness of the wind made time seem so still, so beautiful. It proved that even when life can be so hectic, dangerous and frightening in one moment, it can all pass by and be the complete opposite in the next. The warmth of the sun and the gentle breeze were surreal, almost as if nature was making peace after the storm. Relieved, we couldn’t resist dancing and laughing, letting the moment carry us up the path. From the calm of sun and wind to dancing in debris we were so excited to be outside. We goofed around all the way up the top of the path seeing all the debris and fallen trees around us. The reality of the hurricane was before our eyes. Proving that the destruction and anger of Beryl was a real one. Amidst the wreckage, the joy of being outside together felt even more powerful. We couldn’t help but celebrate. We couldn’t help but walk with curiosity, pace with joy and walk over the destruction with freedom. The once pristine pathway with fruits in the trees and an even line of plants guiding your way to the top had turned into a bombsite of leaves, bark, fruits and wood everywhere dispersed and destroyed.
We continued walking, making it to the end of the pathway and opening the gate to the outside. What followed was trees and branches swept over the roads, the pathway covered by nature. Huge trees on the floor where they didn’t belong. We followed the pathway spotting rubbish that had flown about spread all around us. We look up to see the sky so blue, that not a single cloud covers the beaming sun. There was no grey like expected. Just an eerie silence that was almost rare in a lively place like Jamaica. The world felt eerily silent, as if absorbing the storm’s impact…until the soft meow broke through and filled the silence. For some reason, I assumed this was my brain trying to fill the silence with familiar sounds (as I have two cats back home). But I pause, the girls pause and I look down to see a little white and ginger cat looking up at me meowing. I could see the fear in its little eyes probably star-struck from the storm.
My heart began to hurt as all the logic became present. We all just stood there, trying our hardest not to scoop him up due to obvious hygiene reasons and just kneeled down with him. I looked around me and saw a discarded bottle cap and decided to put some water in it and place it near the little furbaby. The girls then told me we had to keep moving. Not going to lie, this part and even writing about it upsets me. I couldn't keep him as much as I wanted to. So instead I sighed, got up and walked away trying not to despair. As we reluctantly left the little cat behind, we continued down the path, lost in thought, until a glimmer of blue water drew us back to the present. We plodded on till we got to this little pathway.
Catcalls and Close Calls: from Admirers to Escape Artists
We decided to follow the gravel we could just about make out on the ground where we came to see blue. This time the blue wasn't the sky, but water. Clear, blue water. Not the expected muddy pools and additions of leaves intertwined but pure, clean, fresh blue sea water. It was amazing. The path ahead was sheltered by still standing trees providing us some shade. Colours- bright light and beautiful scenes were in front of us. There was so much to see, so much brightness and open space.
We continued to walk through this path and immerse ourselves in the beauty when we began to hear voices. A swarm of voices coming together in the form of compliments. A group of maybe seven to nine guys were before us. Usually, this wouldn’t be a dramatic thing. But having little to no interactions with Jamaican men, I was scared. Collectively, we were all scared ramping up the level of terror. Speaking in an American accent so we could understand they all began catcalling, inviting and shouting, rather flattering statements. It wasn’t the derogatory catcalling you’d expect in a place like London, but it was calm, it was inviting and it was respectful. They outlined our ‘beauty’ and our ‘smiles’ and that they wanted to know if they could ‘join us’. Now being the only white girl for miles and knowing the intention of these boys, we replied “No thank you, but have a great day” to which they responded things like “No worries beautiful” or “We hope you love Jamaica”. It was one of our first moments alone being around the locals who just wanted to marry. But it was not at all what we expected. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure if we were to go in the group we’d get swarmed, but we were smart enough not to do that. After passing through the encounter with laughs and nerves, we continued, and soon a new scene unfolded before us…
We came to the end of the narrow path to a beautiful scene of white sand and crystal clear water. Palm trees lay on the floor but also standing upright highlighting what was an ocean harbour before us. The desktop background that was real and in front of my eyes became a standstill, stagnant, starstruck moment of bliss. We couldn’t believe our eyes. It was so beautiful. The beauty felt almost untouched as if we’d stumbled into paradise - yet something about the stillness felt too perfect. The energy quickly turned from tranquil to slightly terrifying. I wasn’t alone in this thought, the girls also had an uneasy feeling. How can something so beautiful and the perfect destination be so quiet?
Voices from afar began to intertwine with my own. “Do you hear that?” I said slightly panicked? Phoebe turns around. “over there”, Sam says. The reason it was so untouched and beautiful was most likely because it belonged to someone else. Someone who wasn’t open to visitors, especially foreign ones. While Jamaica is one of the most natural beautiful and bright countries with intense pops of colour and glimmers of joy in all directions, natural beauty is part of the economy. Therefore, spots such as beaches usually need payment before entry. To increase the economic status of the country, natural resources were an element used for profit. With these educational and economic thoughts in mind, it soon dawned on us that these voices were real and they approached us fast. Two faraway men in the distance began shouting something we could not make out but they did not seem happy. So we looked at each other, swiveled around and ran, quite fast. But leaving would mean retracing our steps past the group of guys we’d met earlier. A hurdle that was the nature of this trip, one thing after the next.
We all agreed that we would power pass. That we would walk, not run and draw no attention to ourselves. With a deep breath, we walked fast enough to get away from the landowners but slow enough to walk naturally through the path which passed the group of guys. Our shades were on and the acting scene had commenced. With a nervous pace and remaining squeezed together, we put one foot in front of the other and walked through the glances, comments, invites and all-in-all terror that was Jamaican culture.
After five long minutes of fear, we had made it through. What was supposed to be a relaxing stroll ended up being a sprinting match from landowners and a casual retracement of steps passed a familiar crowd who potentially wanted to marry us. Nothing too crazy!
Rising Tides, from a Storm to a Sanctuary
Blue water, boat scenes and final peace
At the end of this drama was a huge boat and a little beach spot. We all laughed and didn’t even need to communicate the fact that we wanted to sit there. So Sam, being the adventurous active one did what anyone with that personality would do and jumped straight down. Easy peasy.
Me on the other hand being slightly more… clumsy threw down my bottle and rather gracefully plummeted down on the sand. Angel then followed, and Phoebe with a helping hand, also made it. After running in Jamaican heat from landowners while avoiding a group of Jamaican men we had made it. We had a rather large boat in front of us where the four is us just sat. Taking it all in, laughing, reflecting on everything that had happened and the relief of just sitting down, together and safe felt so peaceful. The huge boat towering over me made the problems in the world seem so small. We had made it through a terrifying, unpredictable and catastrophic natural disaster that the media made ten times scarier. We all sat on this beach watching the waves go by.
So far, Jamacia had not been anything I expected. I didn't expect to feel so safe in the company I had only just known. I didn't expect to feel so out of my comfort zone every minute of the day. I didn’t expect to have to go through something so scary without being able to contact anyone I care about back home. My mindset and sense of self had gone beyond anything I had experienced before. I felt my level of independence grow. I felt my mindset harden and strengthen every day. I felt my own purpose and sense of self-change- I felt… stronger. Like I actually felt mentally stronger. I feel that's not a feeling you get much in life- not consciously.
The joy we found in the chaos was outstanding. We laughed so hard when Cynthia would always sleep, even when a category 5 hurricane was happening outside our window. Or how we nearly phoned Phoebe’s boyfriend in the army to try to fly us out of Jamaica or use our last bit of data to make a TikTok to help get us home. How angry we were we felt stuck. But how looking back being stuck was exactly what we all needed to grow.
They always say you flourish when you're uncomfortable, and while it was hard being uncomfortable- it taught me that being uncomfortable is okay and in some way can be bearable when you are living it. It reminded me that life throws things at you that you think you are unable to handle at the moment. But, in actual fact I was able to handle it- I gained resilience its its most conscious form. I was extremely grateful for that resilience. The hurricane forced me to fight even when I didn’t think I had a fight in me. I got to go through this with four amazing people who only a few days ago were strangers. The whole hurricane thing was something I’d look back on as a period of strength when I felt weak. For the first time, I sat here seeing Jamaica in its most vulnerable state, and it was truly beautiful.
We had weathered the storm—literally and metaphorically—and emerged not just unscathed but united. The rest of the evening was peaceful. I ate all the Twizzlers and Oreos in the pantry and simply laid on the couch reading my book and writing my entries. There was nothing but everything in my mind all at once. I could feel the bites on my skin every moment, every microsecond of every day but somehow I was used to it. I was great food to mosquitos. I was although, slightly worried I would catch dengue fever but I became used to this feeling of panic and just let it ride through me. What followed was yet another hard night, many games of Guess the Animal and Phoebe making my day by putting a damp half-frozen wipe on my head.
Collectively, as we all lay in bed miserable and hot was a plan for the following day. We had an idea that would lift all our spirits. It would involve bikinis, the ocean and the four of us girls living our best life. What could it possibly be?
Girls trip?
Ocean swim?
Stay tuned for more,
Muahs,
Eves xoxo
