Retour au pays natal

Retour au pays natal - episode 1

Clarisse Chicot Feindouno, Travel Writers Online Summer School

I woke up excited. I had hardly slept because I was thinking about the journey ahead. I had packed everything carefully two days before so I wouldn’t forget a thing. I had travelled to France a week ago to avoid rushing and panicking.

The day arrived quickly, I was impatient and worried. What were things like after 11 years?  Probably different now, with new buildings everywhere. I would soon find out. We made our way to the airport. People’s driving skills left much to be desired. I watched the buildings as we drove by and all of the advertisement panels. 'Souriez, filmez, partagez' with SFR, the new Xiaomi 10, 5G phone for just 1 euro, hmmm, interesting. 

I suddenly remembered, I forgot to check if my Sky network would work once I got there!  We pulled into the airport and I registered the luggage. I sat in this restaurant for my last coffee. I said goodbye to my husband. The kids said their goodbyes to their dad. I heard the announcement: : 'Good afternoon passengers, this is the pre-boarding announcement for flight TX541 to Pointe-à-Pitre. We are now inviting passengers with young children to begin boarding at this time, gate 10. Please have your boarding pass and identification ready. Thank you'. 

I made a move and walked toward gate 10. We boarded the plane. I sat in the middle and I had a boy on each side. They slept throughout the journey. They were used to travelling now. The flight lasted eight hours then  I heard the pilot speaking in the PA: 'Mesdames et Messieurs, nous allons bientôt atterrir, veuillez remettre vos ceintures jusqu'à ce que l’avion s'arrête'. 

Retour au pays natal - episode 2

Finally we landed. We got out of the plane and went through the immigration control. As the officer looked at all of our IDs, he asked me: 'I need proof that these children are yours. I suddenly remembered, I used my maiden name on the boarding pass and the boys had their dad’s name. I showed him my passport which had both my maiden and spouse name. I thought to myself, thank God, I went to London to renew my passport. He was satisfied and made a joke: How can you make the difference between P and M? They look exactly the same!! Double trouble you have there!! I smiled and left the airport impatiently with the boys. At last we were outside, breathing the Caribbean air. Guadeloupe, here I come, I shouted quietly. I looked at my phone, and the network had changed from sky to orange. 

I found a cab, so the kids and I made our way. Nobody knew we were here; it was a surprise. As I sat in the cab, things were indeed different. The hospital was no longer there. I asked the driver:  'What happened to the hospital? oops exkisez mwen, kay pasé lopital la? I forgot I had to speak creole or French now. He answered in creole: 'I pran difé!!' (it burned down, he replied). 

The driver started a political conversation, complaining of the inadmissible state of what is left of the hospital, the water shortage in some of the cities but his voice quickly became distant as I looked at the state of my beautiful island through the car’s window. Buildings were in a dilapidated state and I barely recognised the area. I wondered if Port-Louis had changed as much. I am sure it had after so many years. We made it. We were in the Nord Grande-Terre. Some of the cities were the same. More buildings were erected. The boys woke up: ' Mum, we are hungry!' I suddenly realised we had not eaten since we left the airport. We stopped and I bought KFC for the kids, as for me   I ate a nice 'agoulou', a delicacy I missed eating. The saltiness of the omelette was enrobed with the seasoning of the salad mixed with the sweet, thick and huge burger bread. It was delicious. 

Retour au pays natal - episode 3 (final)

We finally arrived in my city. It had changed, for the better. Now, there was a high school, and they had turned the old sugar cane factory into a tourism site. We were at my house and as I got out of the car, I saw the look on my dad’s face. He cried. Mum wasn’t there. I paid and thanked the driver. I woke the boys up and got them out of the cab and they went through the gate. They found a football; I rolled my eyes. I was tired but there was no time to rest as I hurried to go to the beach. 

I left the boys with dad who also took care of my luggage and I went to the beach. As I walked toward the beach, I felt the sun on my skin and the white tuff and the distorted gravels underneath my bare feet. The beach was two minutes away, so I enjoyed the closeness of nature under my feet. I picked up seven gravels to play this game called pichine. My mum taught me and I was going to challenge her on my return.

I saw a lady selling pistachios and coconut sorbet and I wanted to buy some when I got back. I walked past the swimming school and I remembered my kayak lessons when I was 11. Not a great experience. I fell in the sea as I lost control of the kayak and my teacher shouted at me: 'Get back in the kayak or swim to the shore!' I was petrified and chose the latter. I finally arrived on the beach. I put my towel on the sand and I sat down in front of the open ocean. The view was fantastic, but it was time for me to go swimming. As I entered the deep green sea, the wind blew past me. It gave me a little chill. I stood still for a couple of seconds as the waves brought the water up to my knees. It was cold, so I dived in to not feel the temperature. La plage du souffleur: 'How I missed you!'

Please cite:

Chicot Feindouno, C. (2022) 'Retour au pays natal', Travel Writers Online, 8th November 2022 <travelwritersonline.blogspot.com> ISSN 2753-7803.