La Meseta by Sara Valentina Alvarez Echavarria

Dear Grandma,

When a baby is born, they are so pure. They are so innocent and they haven’t messed up yet. That is what makes them so beautiful. They haven’t endeavored the hardships of life or have been taught the crucial lessons that nobody ever wants to be taught. What makes a person who they are is through the impacts of their friends, family, and community. Their culture and their surroundings make them who they are. That is exactly what happened to me. This happened to me through my very own island which I consider to be a second home. My beautiful Saint Lucia. Specifically, one very special person on that island was my grandmother. The only grandparent that I was, fortunately, able to meet. Mary, that’s her name. She was one of the first people to hold me when I was born and the one to take care of me the first six months of my birth while my parents were sleep-deprived.

As I grew older, I would always hear my mom speak Patois. Patois is the Caribbean native language which is similar to old French. She would constantly speak it around the house and I would always ask, “What is that language?” Or comment, “It’s not the standard English or even Spanish I hear others speak.” This was the main reason my mom started sending me to Saint Lucia. She wanted me to become more familiar with my Saint Lucian roots, and so I could see where she called home. Little did I know, I would soon be calling it home as well.

When my mother sent me to Saint Lucia for the first time, it was to create bonds with my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandmother. I was scared because I wasn’t used to this so-called “foreign” culture, which was indeed my own culture. I just wanted to be in America with my fast-food restaurants and endless clothing store options. However, being in Saint Lucia allowed me to open up my eyes. I started to become more thankful for what I had in America because a lot of people not only in Saint Lucia but in other countries didn’t have what I had. So being in Saint Lucia almost humbled me in a way and influenced me to be more down-to-earth.

In Saint Lucia, it felt like the first chapter of my childhood was beginning. The chapter in which I was so naive. I was changing from a pure baby and child, and becoming my own woman. A woman who was still discovering who she was and her cultural makeup and background. The 2 week-long visits to Saint Lucia, turned into every summer, for the whole summer. During these summers, I was finding out new aspects of myself that I never knew existed.

I found out that I love the Caribbean Sea with all my heart. It’s very different from the beaches that we have in America. It is the perfect temperature, in which it is not too hot or too cold. It’s this clear blue that is almost as equal to the sky’s color without the clouds. It is so clear that I can see the little fishes swimming along with me. I love tasting the saltiness of the sea. Also, I love the beach where I can collect seashells and build sandcastles.

I found out that I love the market where there would be handmade items by a lot of the locals. Also the fresh fruits and the local juices that I would kill for. In that section of the island, there were a lot of tourists and the locals would love that because it gave them the opportunity to front and show off their island.

I found out that I love Friday nights where everyone would be together celebrating after the overlong week. They would party and enjoy their rum and beer. They would move their hips and spin each other around to soca music.

I love carnival, which was two days straight of the locals dressed up in beautiful, colorful costumes. They went all over the island, blasting soca music while everyone partied and became their own entertainment.