A good day

On a small hill overlooking Antigua’s capital, St. John's, is the Cathedral that bears this attractive town’s name. It has stood here like a beacon, since it was constructed in 1720.

Ringed by a brick wall, I found a half opened wrought iron gate, and passed into an old cemetery. I stopped and reflected on the tablets that graced tombstones and crypts. Many had been weathered by time and were unreadable. I tried to imagined what history…what stories lay beneath the ground.

Who was Elizabeth Bendall, who died at 36 years of age? Laid next to her was Hopefor Bendall, who, presumably her son, died in 1728 at the age of 15.

On another I couldn’t make out the name, but what I could see read like this:

“He was home in London at the home of his parents in May
and died in Antigua in August, 1739.”

Before the days of telephone, and email, and 747s, I imagined that this man’s visit to see his parents was probably the last he spoke to them. And the journey from London to the Caribbean at the time must have been an arduous one.

I was moved by another that read:

This monument is dedicated to the memory of a tender and affectionate husband,
James Henry Wall, who died in 1795.

Further down was the inscription for a James George Wall, who died at 22 months and 8 days.
It ended with this:

By a truly grieved and feeling wife and mother
Anna Wall.

I hoped that through her pain, Mrs. Wall was able to find delight in the time she had with her young son and husband.

I walked into the church. The inside was made entirely of wood. It was simple, yet majestic. Pews spilled into every corner of this large church.

I left, and ambled down the hill to the harbour. Royal Caribbean’s, Serenade of the Seas, had just arrived, and was disgorging hundreds of tourists. This was unfortunate, because now I had to dodge the touts offering taxis and selling tours of the island.

Wanting to escape the throng of tourists, I walked a few blocks away from the port. Here the streets were lucky to see any pavement. The houses were run down, and roosters (and two goats) wandered freely.

I passed one man, who placed a closed fist to his chest and said, “peace.” It was here that I saw the smallest house I’ve ever seen. It measured no bigger than eight feet by eight feet. Despite its size it was home for someone.

I kept looking down the small streets and couldn’t help but notice the contrast of the neighbourhood with the cruise ship that loomed, a short distance away.

I stopped to take a photo of an aged man sitting on the steps of an old house. Behind him was a sign that read, Ancient Mariner. I wondered if he was once an old mariner himself. I continued past a small barber shop. Some might call it a shack. There was room for just one chair.

“Would you like a cut,” the barber called out!

I removed my cap to expose my bald head.

“Maybe, I can just clean up the edges,”

“Thanks, but my wife usually takes care of that.”

Around a corner, two guys sat on the steps of a small, bright green house.

“Are you from the ship,” they asked?

It was a question I was asked often. This wasn’t a part of town that many tourists visited, but what I enjoy about ambling through areas like this, is that it’s real. It’s not made up, or pretend. What you see—warts and all—is what you get. It reminds us that beautiful places, such as Antigua, and Fiji, where I’ve been before, are not all about exclusive beaches and fancy hotels. There are people, without much, who are just trying to eke out a living.

“We call this the ghetto,” one of the guys jokingly told me. “Uptown is where all the shops are. We don’t have a lot of money, but we’re still happy.”

I hoped I sounded sincere.

Inside the house, a television could be heard. With a smile, they told me they were watching Obama’s inauguration.

“It’s a good day, a good day,” one said.

They didn’t have to explain what they meant. I knew that a black man in the White House, ever how distant, gave these guys hope. We reached out and touched fists, then placed our hand on our chest, and said goodbye.

It’s a good day, indeed, I thought to myself as I wandered uptown and grabbed a bite to eat.