It’s another episode when me out on de road, we don’t come out to pose, as Bajan Soca legend would say.
Yes, this is our destiny, yes, it belongs to we. And no, I’ve not forgotten all my English grammar.
This is Bajan patois and it is what I hope to be hearing for the next week.
Think too the rum-infused pitch of a smiling Barbadian (or Bajan) and you have it… Sweeet!
All of which brings us to the thorny subject of cultural appropriation.
Knowing how irked I’ve been in the past when English people have cried Hoots…
Or Begorrah when I was in Ireland.
And I confess I’ve grimaced myself when I’ve said Irie to the Bajans when I’ve been out in Barbados before.
Only to be met with mile-wide smiles and hearty hugs.
Now offence is naturally taken differently depending on where you go.
Read the room
And the trick is to be able to read the room.
We don’t always get it right… I again made something of a social faux-pas recently in New England.
When I followed up my handshake with my host Ginny by extending my hand again to her colleague, a young Muslim lady.
The White Knight
Thoughts immediately returned to Aussie Greg, Great Protector of Muslim Women, and great White Knight.
I imagined his head would have exploded with rage as he’d shouted along the coach at me in Colorado.
When I put my hand on the side of a Jordanian woman’s shoulder in the narrow aisle to ask if I could please pass by.
‘You never touch the Muslim woman,’ he screamed, in full earshot of her husband.
All of which only served to embarrass the poor couple when a discreet word would have been better.
And so when we go jumpin’ this week at the Barbados Celtic Festival I will again be indebted to Ms Carter, our awesome host Cheryl.
Cheryl, of course, knows me of old and has taken the edges of my worst excesses when jumping at Mas (Bajan open-air music events).
It’s just another episode when me out on de road.