Personal Essay | Tuning Into My Now and Then

Heartfelt Gratitude For This Rich Auditory Island Tapestry

Joyful noises weave together my past and present in San Juan, Trinidad.

‘Boy, have I missed these sounds of home,’ I muse as I recline on my childhood bed, gazing out the window at the hills of the northern range in the back.

Having spent most of my adult life in New York, a city with its unique charm and clamor, I can’t deny the warmth and nostalgia flooding my senses upon returning for a visit to my hometown in San Juan, Trinidad.

On this hot and humid afternoon, my mind becomes aware and in tune with the joyful noises surrounding me.

I can hear people conversing in a beautiful blend of languages — English, Spanish, and Trinidadian Creole. It’s as if all the world’s tongues harmonize in the heart of my town, San Juan. Many citizens from Venezuela have brought their dialects into the mix, adding a layer of newness to the familiar symphony.

“Honk! Honk!”

Horns could be blaring angrily or thanking another driver for allowing them to merge on the Eastern Main Road. The roadways and streets network like a living organism — the city moves with its heartbeat.

At random intervals, small cars pass by, their windows down, blasting the big sounds of ’80s music. Those tunes transport me to my high school years — the laughter, the dances, and the carefree days that seem so distant now.

Adding to the meleé earlier today and every morning, without fail, the local birds welcome my waking with their enchanting tunes. The melodic trill of the colorful Kiskadee and the high-pitched call of the Tanager add to the soundscape. They fly from mango trees to electrical wires strung overhead on utility poles, crisscrossing above the streets and by my window.

And, of course, the proud cocks crow in the distance, a sound that is familiar, rustic, and comforting.

And the muezzin in the Mosque nearby belts out the adhan, which is the Islamic call to prayer—first thing in the morning and four more times during the day.

And, of course, on Sunday, the bells tolling in the steeple of the Anglican Church two streets away chimes into the symphony.

But not now. Now, the only sound I hear is from my two sleek, modern-standing fans. They whir ceaselessly, trained next to me at all times. Their soothing rhythm cools me as I lay on my bed.

In between their oscillations, I can hear the irritating and persistent buzz of mosquitos trying their best to land and suck my foreign blood. I smile, knowing that even these pests are part of my island’s charm.

I cherish all these sounds — they wrap me in a comforting blanket of love and nostalgia, intertwining my past and present. San Juan has a special place in my heart, and I am grateful for this visit, which allows me to reconnect with the joyful noises of my youth and my right now.

© Scarlet Ibis James, 2023: All Rights Reserved.

Thank you for reading and being a part of my journey through this world. 🦩

• This story rose at the prompting of Ravyne Hawke that we should be Celebrating Joyful Noises!

• And the call of Vinitha Dileep of Soul Magazine for me to answer the question, “What are you grateful for?”

• I created this story during a supportive writing group meeting led by C. Elyse ~ THANK YOU!

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