My first Christmas away from Canada was miserable, I was totally unprepared for the wave of homesickness that swept over me once school was out for the term. I missed my family, I missed the snow and I missed Christmas as I knew and loved it. Bequia has changed from those early days, now Christmas ornaments and lights can be purchased and grocery stores stock special holiday treats. That first year I discovered that I would not be seeing a Christmas tree with colorful lights and tinsel, neither would I have the festive foods I longed to eat. The whole spirit of Christmas seemed to be missing, replaced by the local tradition of keeping “Nine Mornings”
The Nine Mornings Before Christmas seemed to be an excuse for men to stay up all night drinking until they passed out, then starting all over again until Christmas Eve. In the early morning I would spot people sleeping on beaches, in bars and under the Almond tree in the Harbor. I was horrified and saddened by this drunken lead-up to Christmas Day and it depressed me. Mixed in with the Nine Mornings we got the Carolers, which would have been fine had they arrived before or after supper instead of 2:00 in the morning! Some arrived with musical instruments and knew the words to the carols and the accompanying dialogue between songs. Many just banged on sticks and cans and sang badly until you bribed them to go away.
I could not plan a Christmas Feast, not that first year anyway! I longed for turkey or ham and that wasn’t going to happen. The hams in the grocery store were the salted kind in a burlap bag that had to be soaked for days before becoming edible. Yuck! There were no turkeys and I did not know anything about or have access to the fresh pork, beef, mutton and goat the local families would be enjoying over the holidays. There were no potatoes on the Island and I didn’t like the root vegetables such as Tannias, Eddoes and sweet potatoes. There were no vegetable stalls either, vegetables were only sold on Saturdays and the offerings of bitter carrots, wrinkled up cabbages and tomatoes black on the inside were not appealing. I had been eating a lot of melted cheese on bread since my arrival a few months earlier and was getting tired of it.
I suddenly thought of a way I could decorate the house I was sharing with two other school teachers. I could string pop-corn and loop it around the dismal living room. Excited, I went into the harbor to buy what I needed and spent Christmas Eve morning threading pop-corn. I sang Christmas carols aloud and began to cheer up. Once I had draped the drab walls with my cheerful offering I went to the beach for a swim. The water was beautiful, the bay was filled with yachts and I felt affection for my adopted home swell in my heart.
When I got home from the beach I saw that something terrible had happened to the popcorn décor …. for some reason it had turned all black! On closer inspection I saw that the strings were covered with millions of black ants, colonies of them marching, nibbling and having a jolly time at the expense of my newly-found joy. I threw up my hands, screamed, “ Merry F…….ing Christmas!!!” and burst into tears.
