IT's been a month.
One whole month and the only person who had my new number was my girlfriend, Mya. We were still going as strong as before and our relationship was already built on distance so it wasn't hard, at least I convinced myself that it wasn't. I loved physical connection, physical affection, physical everything. I wanted someone who would be by my side day in, day out - is that too much to ask?
"Have you decided to message anyone as yet?" I was lying down staring at the high wooden ceiling with my phone propped up on a pillow beside me.
"Why should I? I mean, the purpose of this trip was to go AWOL." I watched her eyebrows crease as they focused on her homework, this was a regular for us to be on a video call while she did her work.
"Then why'd you give me your new number?"
"What kind of question is that?" I turned from my back to lie on my stomach with my elbows supporting my upper body.
"Okay..."
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Nothing, I just think you should at least message someone and let them know that you are alive." She shrugged her shoulder, acting as if she didn't care.
"My mother knows, isn't that enough?"
"When are you getting a job?" She changed the subject and I rolled my eyes; typical.
"As soon as my aunt can get one for me."
"Can't you go out and look?" I held in a frustrated sigh and turned my face away from the camera, I was starting to get annoyed.
"I can't. The stamp in my passport says that I shouldn't be working."
"Ohhhh. That's stupid. Immigration laws in the Caribbean are so exclusive and we are supposed to be a community. If this is how we behave as a community, I wouldn't want to know how we would behave as separate entities."
"Well, they all have separate identities."
"You know what I mean." She hissed her teeth. "It's just stupid." She added.
"I agree."
"Jamaicans do behave like we are better than everyone else though."
"Well, we have the biggest island and we are the farthest in Western Capitalism. Trinidad isn't much better you know." I pointed out.
"Trinidad can't compare to Jamaica."
"There it is, there is the chauvinism and patriotism." I laughed.
"It's true, though. Jamaica has dug her way up with blood and dirt under her nails from slavery and oppression to being free under western and Asian persuasion. We have dancehall and I think it's insulting to speak of dancehall and say the "Caribbean" dancehall is a Jamaican thing. Soca is a Caribbean thing and tropical climate, not dancehall."
"They should make you write a paper on this, you'd get top marks." I nodded.
"I would, wouldn't I?" She smirked.
"Give me a minute, my aunt wants me to open the door for she." I raised from my position on the bed.
"Excuse me? Dash that weh! For HER! Not for she..." Mya fussed.
"I'm sorry, for her." My loud laughter rang out as I rested the phone down and left the room. I loved the accent and wouldn't mind using it to fit in more.
I did pick up on the accent here, it was funny and it made sense that I was able to better communicate with them because they didn't understand my Jamaican accent as much as I didn't understand theirs. I got to the front door and peeped outside just to make sure it was my aunt.
