When I was a little girl, growing up in Barbados, nothing quite fascinated me more than the thought of snow.
I thought it was magical because snow was something I only knew of from Christmas movies and story books so for an island girl who had never seen it in person, I thought it would have been wonderful to have a White Christmas in Barbados.
Now that I’m older—and perhaps a little wiser —when asked a question like:
Why would anyone trade a snowy day for the sun-soaked shores of beautiful Barbados at Christmas?
I would say it’s a fair question.
But now, I can understand and appreciate the quiet magic of my own incredible island.
I hear it in the notes of our very own and unique Bajan Christmas music—“Drink a Rum” by The Merrymen, “Maizie” by Red Plastic Bag, “Why can’t this Christmas feeling go on” by Brian “Bumba” Payne and “These are the things of Christmas” by the Draytons Two—with their harmonies flavoring our spooge beat drifting through the neighborhood long before December arrives.
I smell it in the kitchen, where cloves and cinnamon wrap themselves around the sweet scent of black cake and sorrel bubbling on the stove.
I feel it in the air, thick with salt and sunshine, and in the laughter that rises from domino tables and yard limes as families gather under open skies and frolic all day long on our sun filled beaches.
I see it in my mother’s hands, baking an abundance of sweet bread with the same care she folds memories into tradition.
I taste it in the ham, the Mauby, the Sorrel, and the Jug Jug—and I feel it in the warm, generous spirit of community that dances through every home.
Back then, I thought snow made Christmas complete.
But now I know better.
Christmas lives in voices singing at Carols by Candlelight, in the Christmas pantomimes, and the colorfully decorated homes on almost every street.
It lives in the barefoot joy of children chasing each other through the parks, and in the warm embraces shared between family, friends and strangers alike as they meet up in Queen’s Park on Christmas Day.
It lives in the stories passed down, in the rhythms of home, in the unshakable heartbeat of an island that celebrates with soul and color.
Snow is beautiful.
But Sun, Sea, steelpan, and the scent of freshly baked sweet bread and ham?
That’s Christmas to me.
Written By: Shonnell Springer
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