Me, My Suitcase & I

by Pierre-Andre Mbala (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

A leap into the unknown St Lucia

Imagine getting to the airport early and still missing your flight! Well, let's just say… When you walk in my shoes, you kinda have to get used to these things. Without going into the details, when you’re checking in and the “Computer Says No” it’s a right beach! Nevertheless, 2 weeks later I finally lose my ‘Out of Europe’ virginity. I’d waited for this moment my whole life. This is the story of an African lost in the Caribbean. One who found his family and found a home After navigating the Canadian Border Force, who grew suspicious of the out-dated newspapers that accounted a significant portion of my travelling real estate, I finally landed! Saint Lucia Jazz Festival Here I Come!!! > “Weh yuh goin?” “Pigeon Island sir, gonna catch the Jazz Festival!” > “$200, US!” “Jheez! I’m good, I’ll walk” > “You kweh-zii boi!” Mr Allen, my hero and Rodney Bay’s finest Taxi driver, saved me from a whole heap of self inflicted stupidity. Those familiar with Lucian roads know they’re barely wide enough for two-way traffic, let alone a foreign idiot with a suitcase! The Jazz Festival was nice, however I couldn’t completely enjoy the experience given my reality. I was almost homeless, by design. Following the festival I found shelter on the beachfront, a deserted bay-watch tower which addressed my basic survival needs. It kept me dry and off the ground. Though an unnecessarily necessary risk, it's one I had to take! That risk meant losing my laptop which had my AirBnB booking. I was smart enough to travel without a phone! So here’s my situation, I now have to survive two months on this island with no phone, no laptop, no home and $200 to my name. Just me, my suitcase & I #DayOne #LongSigh How on earth will I get around this one? Kindness, it was all I had and receive it I did! Step 1: Finding a home It started with a friendly lift then a 5k strut through the banks of Beausejour, navigating a family of wild horses along the way, I was eventually united with the man I would later call my adopted father. China was his name, a larger than life character who introduced me to the wider family… My mommy, Mamma Catharine (China’s sister) who tamed my reckless ways, along with China’s girlfriend and son Byron; who was mute with a knack for stealing my socks! Tskss Living under China’s roof was by no means easy, we had to collect rainwater to drink, wash and cook with. I also had to get over my fear of horned goats to undertake my shepherd duties. On top of this I made a living collecting and selling coal for peanuts. #HardTimes Not helped by a cocky cock who bullied me because I was vegan… a year earlier things would have been very different! And believe it or not, Caribbean chickens almost fly and they climb big trees. No Joke! I have proof!! From a reckless captain riding the waves like a dirt-bike and almost getting lost at sea, to finding refuge on an abandoned ship in Martinique, moonwalking the National N8 Freeway, or escaping a pack of dogs; my Caribbean adventures are too vast to contain. And before I knew it, the two months were up. Just like that! Step 2: Getting home Do you remember what happens when you get to the airport early? Well this time I was in big big trouble, my visa was about to run out! And in Saint Lucia when you stay at the airport too long the Police pick you up. Cutting a story short, fortune was on my side. A pastor by the name of Mr Henry came to my rescue. He took me in, I worked on his farm to raise money to get back to Europe. Europe being three islands away! I found a flight to Paris for €86!! #Remain Step 3: Fixing the jinx I only had enough to get into Guadeloupe. Homeless again and short on change. France… so close mais trop loin! I joined a carnival band, and they helped me get back! #KleLaMas I will always love you x