Bermuda, I will be back

After a six year absence, this writer returned to beautiful Bermuda to be a part of the celebration of this island which was first settled in 1609 by the survivors of a shipwrecked English vessel, The Sea Venture. Bermuda was discovered in 1503 by a Spanish explorer, Juan de Bermudez, who made no attempt to land because of the treacherous reef surrounding the uninhabited islands. Slaves from Africa were brought to Bermuda soon after the colony was established.

The slave trade was outlawed in Bermuda in 1807, and all slaves were freed in 1834. Today, about 55% of Bermudians are of African descent. Unfortunately, in 1928, the father of Black nationalism, and the founder of the Universal Negro Improvement Association (UNIA), Marcus Mosiah Garvey, was not allowed to set foot on the island, but his impact there was tremendous.

In addition to the song "At Last" which was made popular by Etta James, and danced to at several US Presidential Balls by Barack and Michelle Obama, "A Change Is Gonna Come," written and recorded by Sam Cooke in 1963, was also a slogan song for the first true African-American, and 44th President of the United States, Barack Hussein Obama.

Having had the opportunity this time to spend more time, and have in depth conversations, with my Bermudian friends and associates, I realised that a 'change has come' to Bermuda. Apart from the structural changes, this gem of an island seems to be suffering from a divide that is noticeable – political, social and even environmental. Observing the activities on Front Street, where the cruise ships no longer dock with frequency, and those on the streets of North Hamilton, one realises that there is a sense of disunity.

However, patriotism was displayed, when a Bermudian, who had lived abroad for a while, corrected me on my pronunciation of the island's name. "It's Ber-mu-dá, and not Ber-mew-dah." My taxi driver, for most of my stay on the island, was hilarious. He referred to some of the tourists, many of whom apparently were riding a scooter for the first time, as 'organ donors.' "What do you mean?" I asked. "They're trying to kill themselves," he quipped. Riding or driving on the opposite side of the road, to which one is not accustomed, could be dangerous.

North Hamilton, known to many locals as 'back-a-town,' was drawn to me. Being a lover of music, especially jazz, my friends suggested that Hubie's Bar is 'the joint.' I was advised that live jazz could only be heard on Friday nights from 7 - 10 p.m.. "From 7 - 10 p.m?" I responded with amazement. I know that things are different when comparing activities in the region with those in North America or Britain.

However, I took a taxi to Hubie's in time to get about an hour's worth of music. The cover charge to listen to good jazz music by the talented musicians, one could not beat with a stick. My friends joined me shortly after I arrived. This family owned business is one of a kind on the island. The intimate atmosphere is conducive to one spending an enjoyable evening listening and dancing to some first class contemporary jazz. At 10 p.m., (the night I was there, we got a bonus ten minutes) the band stopped and the house lights came on. Reality had sent in with me. Bermuda relies on tourism to help strengthen its economy, so why would a unique establishment as Hubie's Bar not increase its weekly frequency, and later hours of live jazz? Would this infrequency have occurred on the other side of town? Management, many of us work hard, travel to places like Bermuda, and look for outlets where we can relax and enjoy a evening of good music with friends, and maybe have a couple of 'Dark 'n Stormy's. I sincerely hope you will take this into consideration because I'm sure that I speak for many Bermudians as well.

Fortunately, on that cool Friday night, myself and my friends were able to stop in at Leopard's Club, and end up until the wee hours of the morning dancing to non-stop music of yesteryear, which was spun by DJ Austin Woods, at The Spinning Wheel.

I must admit that my heart was overflowing with gratitude, when while walking near the Butterfield Bank earlier that day, a teenager interrupted her cell phone conversation and bid me a "Good morning!" We need more of this, not only in Bermuda. Her upbringing was clear.

My stay on the island could not be complete without watching some cricket. I had the good fortune to witness a county match. The atmosphere at Bailey's Park, with the colours of the supporters of the two teams, the pristine ground, fine cricket, the aroma of seafood and other meats, and being surrounded by blue Bermuda water, was exquisite. Having had a chance to view the match from a elevated vantage point made my day memorable. Thanks Big Art.

Bermuda, I will be back.