If there’s one thing I have always admired, it’s humility, and it’s even more pleasing when it comes from an individual who has attained so much in life, that they can easily get swayed.
I watch a number of interviews regularly (it’s a thing at YO), and I am always riveted and fascinated when a power figure comes off as “ordinary”—it’s a bonus when they are charismatic too.
Just recently I was discussing the humble nature of a local power figure which I think is due to the individual’s Caribbean upbringing. I think Caribbean life, most times, keeps us grounded as a result of the things we grew up on—being able to use a coal pot when the gas tank runs dry, picking guavas, mangoes and sweet, succulent ackees in our neighbour’s yard and sometimes getting scolded for it; eating green figs and salt fish, smoked herring, acras and the works; getting a good beating from your parents or teachers for impertinence—there’s something about this upbringing that we’re especially grateful for when we get older. We look back and we are so fond of these memories as we realize that there truly is nothing as special as it.
Individuals who grew up in the Caribbean who have migrated to metropolitan countries or are just there on holiday, constantly complain about being unable to find things they would easily be able to find in their backyards, or supermarkets at home. Even when they find them, (deem it lucky), they complain that they are not the same.
And so they eagerly await the moment a friend, or friend’s friend, is coming to their new place of residence, so that they can give them a list of requests. And on that list you find items like cocoa stick, spices, pepper sauce, farine, fish, honey, tamarind balls, jams, mangoes, etcetera.(I asked my colleagues to recount some of the things individuals’ request just so you know, and the list went on and on).
So many times we hear people wishing that they grew up in bigger countries, but truth is, there is no place like home. And not that there is anything wrong with these countries; I guarantee you many wouldn’t trade places as they have their own traditions and practices that make it as special to them. (I can remember the horror on my cousin’s face the last time she visited when she discovered that she had to climb a long, steep hill to visit a sick aunt—I was merciless and poked fun at her all the while). And though we may complain about these hills the very same way, this is home to us; this is what home feels like.
And sometimes, you may migrate as a result of what you’d like to pursue, etcetera, but never, ever, forget where you came from; never forget what makes you, you. Remember to keep that humble nature and remember how good it is to witness a local having their moment, whilst still remaining very grounded—like they never left.
Take care loves and have a wonderful weekend.