The Beach!

For Summer 2020, I’m committing to spending my weekends at the beach. Why? Under the brief threat of life unraveling beyond control, I can’t help but wanting things that I’d always thought would be there whenever I wanted or needed it. The beaches of Jamaica reopened last week and my dad described the event saying, “the sea needed more wata.” Can you see it?! I can see it, feel it and even taste it. 

Yes, taste it! A day at the beach involves a variety of activities, the highlight of which in Jamaica, is the feast. To be on an island means we have a wealth of beach-day options and the choice is dependent upon the day’s vibes: holiday, romantic date, time of day, family or group outing, local or traveling out of town, public or private beach and/or entertaining tourists. However, there is one favorite way to spend a day at the beach and it’s to feast, something we’ve all come to know and love — that’s having escovitch fish with festival (sweet dough) and a cold one. When you live on an island, the next best thing to fresh seafood is having fresh seafood while on the beach. Though, it’s becoming more the norm for beachgoers to bring their own feast due to its cost.

I’ll let you in on a little secret — Jamaicans love going to the beach, but I can’t say that many love or even like the beach. I know! – but it’s true. Personally, I can’t get enough, but this feeling is still rather new for me. I’m not quite sure when the shift happened, but sometime over the last decade or so I began to own the beauty of home and all its magic. 

At some point in life, you will hear about all the things that you don’t have and won’t match up to, which forces us to search from within for that which we already possess. Jamaican beaches are a true beauty, the warm, crisp clean air and white sands have you seeing the many shades of turquoise as far as the eyes can see. What is there not to love? Just a glimpse of the ocean when we drive through the town makes my heart leap with joy. 

I’m of the belief that because others wanted what we had, they told us that what we had was no good, and we believed them. That mental warfare played on until it seeped through every corner of our lives. And like the wave that travels miles on end before it reaches the shore, the warfare will meet its end. As Oleta Adams “Get there” hook lyric tells us, “I don’t care how you get here, just get here if you can.” I promise you, it’s worth it. If going to the beach solely to engage in a feast is our form of protest then, “Here, Here” — we’re going to need more wata.

Cheers, Jamaica!