On Saturday January 23rd 2010, St. Mary’s College Past Student Union held their annual Fete with the Saints on the grounds of the College. As a first-timer to this fete, having recently returned to Trinidad after spending 18 years living “up d’ Islands”, 2010 was my reintroduction to the Trini Carnival scene and reconnection with my Alma Marta. The last time I visited Trinidad for Carnival was in 2003, so immediately I was reminded that small island carnival is just not the same; I hope my Eastern Caribbean friends forgive me for that comment including my St. Lucian wife, Janice. Trinis just know how to throw a party, it is what we do, it is what we are famous for and like most things we Saints men do it best.
Even before I landed back home on Christmas night I was receiving e-invitations for a host of fetes and events which were packed into every weekend starting the New Year’s Day holiday right up to the big celebration only 7 weeks later. A bit overwhelmed by the wide selection and not quite sure where to go or what to choose the decision to return to the Big Yard was an easy one for me. I felt I had an obligation, no scratch that, a duty to support the school that had a big role in making me who I am today.
Content in my decision I headed into Port of Spain for the big event. Driving down Frederick St. just after sunset I realised right away that this was the real deal. The organisation was spot on. The front of the College was well lit giving you a great sense of security as you came in. There were people assisting with parking and directing you to the designated parking lots on Frederick and Pembroke St. and although there were many people entering the party at the same time there was no queuing or waiting to get in. The committee members at the gate were just great, they welcomed everyone who came in, not in a rehearsed manner, but with genuine hospitality, like old friends, you felt as if they were all glad to see you. That warmth was experienced throughout the party.
As an ole boy I was in my element, I was in an environment that was familiar. I felt a sense of nostalgia walking the corridors of the form 1, 2 and 4 blocks, heading to the Small Yard by the Cafeteria for something to eat, bouncing into classmates many of whom I had not seen in 19 years except via little pictures on my Facebook page.
Yet there was something special about the night, the Big Yard had been turned into an outdoor concert venue. The classrooms had been set up for dining and with premium bars all staffed with professional and pleasant servers. The Small Yard had every imaginable cuisine. The sponsors had tents scattered through the venue and teams of beautiful women encouraging you to try their products and you could even get a massage. Digicel the main sponsor not to be outdone had decorated the grounds with traditional mas costumes, set up a balloon drop in front of the stage, deployed moko jumbies, red devils and costumed girls to weave through the crowd, put on a full cultural presentation on stage and we cant forget the Digicel girls in their red outfits.
After it was all over, once you had eaten all the food you could digest, drank just enough to beat the breathalyser, jumped, waved and palanced to the sounds of Shurwayne Winchester, Kes the band, Shal Marshal, Dil-e-Nadan, DJ CG, JW and Blaze, you left chipping (some of us limping) out the grounds satisfied knowing that you had received probably the best value for money for the season.
The next day I was asked by dad Ken, he too a product of CIC (1945-50), “so how was it?” I immediately said I had blast, great fete but looking back at it I am unable to pin point what it was about it that was so special for me. It was not the food, though it was all good and there was enough for all. It couldn’t be the drink; yes there was everything you could want from premium spirits, fine wines and even a coffee station. Maybe it was the music, the bands were great they had the crowd moving in the Big Yard, but you know what - that’s not it either.
For me it was the people, “Nice people”! Seeing the old faces, catching up with those that used to sit with you in the classrooms now set up as bars, remembering the hook shot you played in the yard off a short wind ball delivery and the pressure you got trying to retrieve the ball from the convent car park. But most of all it was being there, one of the boys of the old brigade of gallant CIC and knowing that I had given back to an institution that dates back long before us all with the confidence that it will be there strong for our sons (or maybe even my daughters) and grandsons.
Kevin Snaggs, CIC 1984-1991 |
