"Seems like I had embodied the concept of the decisive moment, long before I learned of Henri Cartier-Bresson."
I was 9 years old. It was the last day of my annual Y'S Men & Menette's Camp - a camp where kids and adults met daily in a big assembly hall to do art and craft activities, cooking, needlework, and other creative arts projects.
Customarily, on the final day of the camp, we'd all go on an excursion to a place of amazing nature.
On this occasion, we went to a remote off-the-beaten-track place called Roaring River in Petersfield, Westmoreland, Jamaica, a huge river and park, known for its mineral spring with ice-cold water, a historic cave, and a famous sinkhole that's rumoured to be bottomless.
Although it was not one of the main destinations we were accustomed to visiting on annual excursions, this place was as familiar as the back of my hand, because it was situated within walking distance from my house, and it was one of my favourite playgrounds.
The history of the famous cavern there goes back to a few hundred years, and literature has it that Arawaks, Tainos, and African slaves used the cave for its healing and relaxation benefits.
So, the highlight of our trip for many persons, except for myself, was the tour of the limestone cavern, home to many bats and spectacular rock formations. Some of the rocks are said to be so low that one has to crawl through narrow sections with a flashlight.
(Hence my reason for no personal photographs, sorry!)
I suffer from claustrophobia and fears of being trapped. However, I would always walk the entire distance to the entrance of the cave with the hopes that I'd find the courage to enter.
...But for the umpteenth time, my courage disappeared right outside the entrance to the cave, and I'd voluntarily choose to sit on the rocks for an hour or two, alone, and play while the group enjoyed the tour.
Coincidentally, on this particular trip something was different; my little friend, of the same age, was also scared to enter the cave, so she asked to sit outside at the entrance with me. However, the conductor of the bus that drove us to this location, decided he would not leave us unattended, so he stayed with my friend and I.
We all chatted and joked around, and we two little girls played for a bit, then we sat quietly, on the sharp rocks, just waiting, in the sun.
As my little friend, the conductor, and I sat at the edge of the cliff, by the entrance to the cave, next to a bottomless sinkhole, we all turned our heads to watch a machete-wielding man, coming down the steps towards us. He made his way down and stopped at the entrance in front of us.
There was no acknowledgment or any form of communication.
Sternly, he glared at the three pairs of fearful eyes, while his eyes blinked rapidly as he shrugged his shoulders and jerked his machete-arm, aggressively.
The calming sounds of nature and the rhythmic beats of cascading waters down the sinkhole seemed muted, and our fears screamed silently.
Uneasily, the three of us made slight turns to look at each other.
Looking to my right, I observed that the conductor took a slight nudge upward on the rocks, so I followed with a slight nudge backward, away from the machete-wielder. I then made eye contact with my little friend and took a second nudge when she was looking; She followed and did the same.
This sequence went on for about three-quarters of an hour.
Our nerves were on edge with every jerk the machete-arm made.
The machete-wielder had stopped making eye contact, but his jerks became more aggressive and forceful.
All three of us took glances at each other. I saw fear, questioning, and doubt, yet a sense of determination in the eyes of my two friends, which gave me the confidence that we were all on the same page to try to escape together, unharmed.
Our choices: Run in the cave, but we knew we would not get far, and we honestly had no idea why the machete-wielder was there in the first place, and I guess as young as we were, our instincts told us that the man was not keen on conversation.
If my girlfriend at the end tried to get away, the chance is that the machete-wielder would go after her, or he would hold the rest of us hostage.
Since I was in the middle, there was no way I could get by the machete-wielder, and my friend.
The conductor could not run behind us, or the machete-wielder.
I tried to read the body language of the machete-wielder and I looked to see if I could see a "soft spot" in his eyes. I also hoped that he would have burst out a loud laughter and that it was all a prank.
Instead, the machete wielder's neck muscles tightened as he shrugged his shoulders and jerked his arm. Those movements removed my hope that it was just a humourous act.
In a split second, the machete wielder's internal compass must have clocked the change of direction my friend and I were in...in that same second, all three of us simultaneously took leaps of faith down the wet staircase alongside the sinkhole to the left and the edge of the cliff on the right.
We ran as fast as we could.
All we heard was the conductor instructing was from behind:
"Do not look down, just run, eun, run!"
We all got to a safe location and out of breath, we all hugged each other.
In unison, we asked each other.
Keep calm in a crisis.
When things are complicated and don't need a hasty decision, I think things through clearly, let them rest, before acting.
I also understand the importance of observation, as there are different ways of communicating during tough situations.
When in difficulty as a group, always try to stick together in the best interest of everyone instead of being selfish, or trying to play a hero, as it could be detrimental to others.
Roaring River is a place that I will always have fond memories of. I remember walking through the village with my mum and sisters, and it was always like walking into a scene of a postcard. I have not been back to the area in recent years, but I hope one day I'll be able to visit this place again and get to take pictures and share my full experience.
Maybe, just maybe, I'll have the courage to tour the cave? Who knows!
I'm a feeling a little itchy feet and homesick, and memories of this mystical place and this incident came washing over me.
Thank you for reading. Please feel free to share your comments:)
