Holy Good friday to all.
This morning I walked up Calvery Hill in Diego Martin with my kids. We did not stop at each station, instead we all went in procession to the top. It is a good way to start the day and did the stations of the cross ontop the hill.
Usually for good friday my mother would boil some provisions: Sweet Patato, Casava, Dasheen, and Yam. She was not a lover of cush-cush, tanya, and eddoes, other west indian roots. This with some steam fish, coo-coo, plantain and beans and you have a meal that I would run a mile NOT to eat.
There was another thing about Good Friday that I would not follow. The old people would say that if you bathe in the river or in the the sea on Good friday that you would turn into a fish. In fact 70 years ago when my mother was a littel girl her neighbour and her went into the Blue Basin River to bathe and while she escaped a good "cut-tail" her neighbour "Telly" could not escape the guava whip her mother beat her with.
I used to swim in the river all the time. Even on Good Fridays. Despite being told the story of the flying dutchman and it's captain who decided to set sail on good friday so that he could make his destination at the quickest pace and who's ship disappeared at sea because he chose the love of water on such a Holy Day. The ship is now beleived to be only legend. They say no such ship existed, only stories
Well, I am no fish today, but I understand that as a Good Catholic even on Good Friday I must put my love for pleasure away in favour of sacrifice. What Jesus went through for me... what is a little time away from cold river water on a scorching hot day.
Also I have grown to love a meal of "provions" or roots.