If it happens to you to find yourself in Africa or in Jamaica on Easter, well..get ready to some really crazy time.

I had already experienced Easter in Africa, at the time I was in Ghana in 2013, when the most crazy party ever just happened right in the place where I was. People, possibly hundred thousands people, went out in the streets and on the beach to celebrate Easter and Easter Sunday, a party that lasted for 48 hours and involved everybody in the whole country. Something impossible to describe! When Africans have fun they do know how to do it properly and how to make it last as long as they can.

I had no idea that it would have been exactly the same in Jamaica.

I was in Port Antonio this last Easter, in the most laid back, unknown, beautiful little village of the island, living my life like a local and enjoying the vibes and the people.

On Easter Saturday, together with Bertine, a Dutch girl met in the hostel where I stayed, we decided to go to have a look at how Jamaicans spend a weekend. We ended up in a karaoke bar where the only two white people were us. At the beginning observed with kind of a weird sight, we got soon integrated in the public after few beers with locals and byt he time the night ended we ended up singing We are the World , We are the Children of Michael Jackson (still big down there) hugging our new friends.

This was only the premise of what would have happened two days later, on Easter Monday when we decided to go to the Beach party of the year, right outside Port Antonio.

That beach party is probably the most crazy party I have ever been in my whole life!

We arrived at destination via a shared taxi with about 8 to 9 people int he car and we walked down the beach in the darkness. It is Jamaica, so of course there are no street lights outside of the town. We had to climb the steps down, made of tree roots, in the total darkness, helped by the light of the cell phones of the other thousands of hundred Jamaicans who were going to the same party.

When we arrived on the beach, we found ourselves in the most different idea of party that a Westernized person can ever imagine. With the Sun going quickly down, people on the beach were just walking in the darkness. There was no light at all. The only light was coming from the main stage, where some super stoned Rastafarian Djs were playing 3 seconds of music and talking for 10 minutes all the time (I thereafter discovered that is very common in Jamaica where the old concept of dj making music and involving the public is still common) and from the little wooden stalls where people were cooking food.

Now…the stalls…do not imagine anything like you have ever seen in a festival in your hometown. Those stalls where people were selling street food were made by a simple table where a man or a woman was cooking food from pots and stoves brought from their home.

Same for the alcohol. There was nothing like a bar around (or better there was one but the electricity generator they had went off and it became a complete mess) but most of the stands were made of tables where men had brought bottles of beer and they were selling to people. All enlighten by some very small lights coming sometimes from their own car.

No other place in the world has made me feel so much like if I was back in Africa like that place. I was back to Africa, and I am telling you this in the most kind way I could ever describe it. Me and Bertine were mainly the only two white people of the party. We were surrounded by crazy, noisy, friendly and amazing Jamaican people all over, in a dimension completely out of the ordinary where we didn’t even know exactly the rules. People were nice with us though.

Sometimes there were cars driving in the middle of all the people on the beach. That was really crazy. We wondered why they did that for many hours until we founded out: at a certain point, when the alcohol was high in the blood, the djs invited everyone to dance. It was there that mayhem started.

The women just laid with their arms on the cars parked around and started to shake their huge bum, while the men started to dance at their back, simulating a sex scene!!! That was hilarious! We were surrounded by them. And all of them, boys and girls, drunk and crazy, enjoying and dancing like if there is no tomorrow. It was madness, pure madness, but it was also great as it was and explosion of Jamaican life at its purest and most crazy point. We were completely in Oh by the entire experience and even when we went to sit a bit apart to take a break from all the happening around, guys started to talk to us about their country, life, vibes, reggae, friendship, politic…and on and on…for hours.

It was an explosion of people, music, great food like no others, I still miss the Jerk food everyday of my life, beer, and the most funny, weird and crazy characters in the world. 

When I was back to the hostel and got finally to bed I could barely believe I had just experienced the most crazy party of my life.

 

 

Partying with Jamaicans is not for sissies, my friends! Yaman!!!!

 

WATCH THE VIDEO OF THE PARTY HERE:

2 comments

• John Parker says:

  14 October 2016 at 12 h 21 min

  Travel is my passion and love traveling. I have taken trips with family, friends, and solo. I like your blog and all your post. Waiting to see more from you.

• Manu says:

  31 October 2016 at 20 h 14 min

  Thank you John 🙂