Sunday, February 24, 2013
One of the things I love about being raised in The Bahamas is that you felt what day it was. You knew when it was Monday all the way to Sunday. And you could pretty much tell what time it was too. When school kids were still on the street in the morning, you knew it was not quite 9am yet. And in the afternoon when again the school kids were on the street walking/catching the bus, you knew it was 3pm – the traffic gave way to that too. Of all the days however, you knew when it was Sunday. Everything was shut down, expect for some grocery stores and fast food restaurants. Everyone and their mama and papa were dressed to the nine bright and early and headed to church. Then, when the family all got back home, mommy was in the kitchen cooking a feast, and I mean a feast, you would think it was your last supper: Peas n’ Rice, steamed pork chops, fried Snapper, baked macaroni and cheese, coleslaw, fried plantains, and to top it off she would make a dessert, maybe guava duff, or coconut cake, something from ingredients she had on hand. There would be so much food it would last a day or two. Then after dinner, when all the food was put away and dishes cleaned, my mummy and I would watch Lifetime TV for hours. I think that’s why I don’t watch Lifetime as often as I use to. But yes, you sure knew when it was Sunday. I’m starting to get homesick now; I can’t wait until I go back for a visit.