I’ve now been living out my fantasy and swimming in the Caribbean Sea every morning and late afternoon, but I’m getting a new urge: exercising on the beach. Where, how, with whom, no idea. And then I hear about workout sessions on Miami Beach, one of the most popular spots at the southern tip of Barbados. As early as 6 a.m.
No time to waste: I’ll be there tomorrow! Easier said than done, though: am I really willing to get up at 5.30, walk a while, catch a bus and work out at sunrise? Seriously??? Curiosity wins out in the end and I decide to check it out, hoping there will be other takers for what sounds – well, crazy.
The tree-shaded beach is now in sight, and lo and behold, it’s packed with people, some younger, some older, men, women, they’re all here.
Whether they’re skipping rope, running, playing beach tennis, doing push-ups or hanging from a horizontal bar between trees, all are happily indulging in their favorite sport. Group classes, anyone? There’s body-building at 6 with Philip, aerobics at 6.30 with Carlton or ‘energy circulation’ at 7 with Cecil, aka ‘Rasta Man’.
All classes have one thing in common: an idyllic setting, whether it’s the turquoise water at the front of the scene, the tall leafy trees as a backdrop or the white sand as a ground sheet, and best of all, the deep blue sky over our heads.
Hesitantly, I ask someone where I can sign up. They smile back at me. What do you mean, sign up? Just join in!
The minute I start moving, I feel transported. I’m enthralled by the upbeat local music, the cheerful mood, the unrestrained laughter (would anyone in a European gym even dare to laugh out loud?) and the instructor’s infectious energy. People come to have a good time, never mind how they look or what shape they’re in. A beach sweeper takes a look, plants her rake in the sand, leans on it, follows the aerobics routine for a minute and walks on. Another lady sporting a tailored dress, a feathered hat and sneakers is using her umbrella as a dumbbell. The class ends with the coach urging the crowd to loudly wish the universe ‘Good morning’ and laugh out loud ‘to make sure the day is off to a cheerful start’. But wait, there’s more: extra classes are often given by Bajans *who live abroad and come home to visit, and you can stretch with Cynthia, do tai-chi with James, and so on.
After the workout, participants pass around mangoes and pastries, and one of them shouts: “Next Monday is a bank holiday and it’s also my birthday! I’ll bring the drinks, you can bring food if you feel like it, and let’s celebrate!” Being a newcomer, I wonder if I’m included: you bet I am!
Unbelievable as it may seem, all classes are free. Monday through Friday, the same three instructors volunteer their time and show up bright and early as a benefit to themselves and to the community. They even provide dumbbells for everyone. Community is meant in the broader sense: tourists and expats are welcome, and nobody pays for anything. Contributions of any kind are well appreciated, whether it’s a fruit basket, home-baked pastries or just batteries to keep the music going.
It’s 8.30 and the beach has gone quiet. People head for the public showers before going off to work. Tourists won’t show up until 10 and will have no idea what they’ve missed. Time for me to cool off in the blue Caribbean Sea before I make my way back home feeling great and bursting with energy. And it’s only 9 a.m., about the time I usually wake up in Europe. To think that I almost missed out on this fountain of youth!
I’m suddenly reminded of the wave of solidarity and generosity the coronavirus crisis has sparked in Europe. Free online classes have cropped up everywhere, be it yoga, sports or meditation. But as soon as life goes back to normal, we will be encouraged to sign up for real classes, obviously for a fee. After all, isn’t everyone entitled to live a good life?
In Barbados, 'a good life’ starts with community sharing and a concern for others, no matter who they are. I can barely wait until some stranger’s birthday party on Miami Beach next Monday. Watch this space…
*Note: Bajan (pr. bey-djun): noun or adjective, derived from ‘Barbadian’
Translated by Edna Setton
May 15, 2020