Last year I participated in a writing contest and recently thought about the piece I wrote. Someone asked me where I felt "at home" in Ireland and it reminded me of that text (which is not technically about Ireland, but a bit... well, you'll see).
The theme of the contest was "A place that allows you to feel free". So there it goes:
How far do you have to go to find freedom? In my case, I flew more
than six thousand miles to my husband’s native country, Mauritius.
During three weeks, he made me discover the people, the culture and the
magnificent landscapes of this small island. Mauritius is not only a
sandy beach as you see in travel brochures. Every place in the country
has a history, if you bother looking for it.
One afternoon, we drove down the Chamarelle mountain on the west of
the island, and stopped at this very small beach situated between two
hotels. It was quite secluded and you wouldn’t know it’s there unless
you’re a local. I decided to go for a swim and as I was in the water, I
turned around. That’s when I saw it. This gigantic mountain was standing
there, looking right down at me. The view was absolutely breathtaking. I
suddenly felt very small and I had the strange feeling that this place
had a special history. When I came out, I asked my husband and his
family to tell me the story of The Morne mountain.
 |
| Le Morne |
During the French domination, many slaves, mainly from Africa, were
brought to Mauritius to work on the fields and on construction sites.
They were very badly treated by their masters, were tortured and endured
corporal punishment.
The story says that the maroon slaves (the ones who managed to escape), found shelter in the Morne mountain because it wasn’t easily accessible. The dense forest protected them from the hunters sent by their masters to kill or enslave them again. The story also says that after the abolition of slavery, the maroons saw people coming and got scared , thinking they were going to be killed. Instead of taking that risk, they shouted : “Zot pas pou gagne nou vivant”, which means “They won’t get us alive”, and decided to jump from the mountain. They didn’t know those people were coming to tell them about the abolition of slavery and they would rather die than lose their freedom.
The story says that the maroon slaves (the ones who managed to escape), found shelter in the Morne mountain because it wasn’t easily accessible. The dense forest protected them from the hunters sent by their masters to kill or enslave them again. The story also says that after the abolition of slavery, the maroons saw people coming and got scared , thinking they were going to be killed. Instead of taking that risk, they shouted : “Zot pas pou gagne nou vivant”, which means “They won’t get us alive”, and decided to jump from the mountain. They didn’t know those people were coming to tell them about the abolition of slavery and they would rather die than lose their freedom.
Le Morne is a sacred site and is now on the UNESCO World Heritage
List. It’s a symbol of hope and freedom, a symbol of resistance against
the oppression, and is a very important place in Mauritius history. It’s
an official recognition of the Creole identity and the history of
colonialism in the island.
The
mauritian slaves had their place of freedom, so where is mine ? Before
writing this, I was pretty sure that this particular beach with the view
of the Morne mountain was it. But it’s not. As I was thinking about my
next words, I suddenly realised that my place of freedom is simply the
seaside. It doesn’t matter where it is. It could be in Mauritius, where I
love spending time, it could be in Ireland , where I live, or it could
be in Brittany, where I’m from. I love the sea and couldn’t live without
it. I love walking down the beach in my small Irish village when the
wind blows in my face and clears my thoughts. I love storms and watching
the waves crash on the rocks in Brittany. It reminds me that we are so
small in this immensely big ocean. I also love the serenity of the Mauritian lagoon, especially in the morning, when the beach is empty and
all I can hear are the little wavelets coming up and down the shore. I
don’t need to go to the sea everyday, I just have to know it’s there,
accessible if I want to.
We are all slaves of something: our job, our responsibilities, our
emotions, our smartphone… But when I look at the ocean, I forget
everything. It calms me down, it gives me strength, it makes me laugh,
it makes me cry. It makes me feel at peace with myself.
We say “water is life”, I say “The sea is where I feel alive”.
