At the end of April last year, Bobo and I and Bobo’s friend Clincha, went to Windsor Forest for a nine night, or “send-off party” for somebody who was REALLY well known in the community. His name was Wayne Chong and he was a soccer player who scored a lot of goals. “Him family member chop off his head,” is how he died. A big event at the time it happened, I’m sure.

We headed east along the coast road towards Long Bay and then up a road to the right up a hill. It was a long way by the road but Bobo and Clincha explained that there is short cut through the bush from Sherwood which is just a hop and skip. That is if you are Jamaican, I suppose, and are used to hopping and skipping through impenetrable bush and over rocky terrain.

Windsor Forest is a really cute village. There is or was quite the “cabinet man” in the area who built a lot of fancy wood windows on the houses. They all of them have an interesting scroll work flourish on the top I had never seen before. People’s homes around here spring full blown from their imagination. Windsor Forest has some very cool homes, all different colors with add-ons here and there as families grow. It certainly was a fetching place in the dark with the music and the lights “all bout.”

I remarked to Clincha that funerals in Jamaica are a lot bigger than weddings. He had to stop a bit as though he had never thought about it, but he guessed that is true. Makes sense to me. A funeral is about something mysterious and real, death which will come to us all. A wedding is sadly often just vanity and a “passing fancy.”.

The three of us headed up a little windy lane to the top of the hill to where Wayne Chong’s family lived. There was music playing and an outdoor kitchen with some pretty competent-looking chefs banging pots around. Food would be provided for this party. Wayne’s sister came out and said hi to Bobo and there was an exchange of courtesies. Bobo used to play football with Wayne when they were kids.

A nine night is an opportunity for people to make some money selling drinks and snacks and food and there were different little “scenes” according to where you were and what music was playing. Windsor Falls is kind of spread out. We left Wayne’s house where the condolences were going on and went down to where our car was parked and just hung out there smoking a spliff and drinking beer and watching the passing scene. Hundreds and hundreds of people showed up for this thing and they mostly arrived in little gaggles or groups or factions and it was fun to watch.

The first group I noticed was “de likkle preteen gyal dem,” racketing around having the time of their lives. All of them were wearing masks which seemed some odd fashion statement among this age group. I saw one of them try and get her baby brother to go back home and an interesting tussle ensued. This town won’t see activity like this for a long time again and he wanted to be part of it.

Everybody was dressed fit to kill. This is called “mogelling” in Patois, I have figured out. “All of dem in competition to see which one is the hottest person for de night. Didn’t you know dat?!” explained Bobo. There were some extremely sexy outfits, including two young women in matching body suits in full green and red.

The little village kids were running here and there squeaking and squawking as a kind of background activity while various groups of “Porti” people paraded through. The first group was “de teeny bopper dem.” (Jamaica has exactly the same expression for this category of little girls.) They came in a group, dressed up unbelievably sexy and sashayed past. Clincha mentioned that since school has closed because of Covid, this category has been getting pregnant faster than usual. There’s nothing that will cast you out of your teeny bopper lifestyle faster than becoming a “baby momma,” I should think.

After the teeny boppers came a little gang of “yoots,” like the kids who hang around in the derelict cars at the bottom of Zion Hill road in Fairy Hill. Nice kids the time our tire went flat in front of their hangout, but you do tend to just check, in a casual way, that your handbag is secured. They paraded by with a swagger looking a tad embarrassed under the gaze of their elders.

In the ensuing gaggle of teen age girls, I glommed on to one who really stood out because she was alabaster white with long ash-blond hair. She was dressed as “Taylor Moon,” a Japanese anime character who wears a sailor costume. In my stoned and slightly drunk state I asked, “What the F$%k did I just see? “Oh, her parents are German," I was told. ” “German!” I said, “Well I guess that explains it." “SHE NAH GERMAN!!” said Bobo, “She Jamaican! She BORN here!” In fact, I don’t think any ordinary German teen-ager would have been there. I was surprised to be there myself.

Next were the motorcycle boys. Wow! At night with the lights and all the revving and showing off! It was great! Though one of them fumbled a turn which made the crowd laugh a bit.

After that we went down to the main road into town where the scene and music changed yet again. Here were some middle-class-with -jobs sorts of people and some older middle-class couples, the ladies wearing masks matched to their outfits. They looked like they were going to quickly come and go, get a little shocked by the behavior of the youth these days, but still just get to take a look.

Because of Covid, the curfew was eight o’clock and it was almost ten. All of a sudden two humungous SUV police vehicles eased up the road. They were making an ominous low noise and had a big show of flashing lights. All the bars started closing up and people got into their cars to go home, with a lot of commentary in Patois. Bobo said that the party would play cat and mouse with the police for the rest of the night, but I am too old for that.

It was a great party. Wayne Chong really got a good send-off. “Vibes” are important around here and Windsor Forest put out some good ones. The people in Porti were really, really ready to have a break from all this Covid stuff. Jamaicans like to get together, dance and let off steam, see all their friends, do all their networking and stay up all night. This lockdown stuff has really hit them where they live. For the first of March the government announced that the beaches would remain closed and the curfew will be six o'clock, and NO MORE FUNERALS.”