back on this island

eight years after watching the play once on this island for the first time, planning to watch it again left me with a bit of trepidation. i was such a different girl eight years ago, and i was a bit afraid of how much it would affect me again eight years after (or scarier, how little it would matter.)

i should have known by now that trying to recreate the past is the biggest exercise in futility. i tried to get the whole gang to watch it together but i had forgotten that the gang is no longer in college -- one's married, one's in china, one's in rome, one's in singapore, one got tickets for a different date, ad nauseum – and that the gang has different lives already.

thank goodness ma cherie was free, so at least i'd be able to see it with someone who was there with me the first time. the gods must have been smiling at us that night, as we got free upgrades to much better seats in the theater (partially thanks to the ten “brothers” who sat in the balcony with us, who would rather watch a play on a Friday night then hang out in a bar to drink beer.)

the play was as fun as ever. i cried at the parts i wept at eight years ago. and eight years ago, i would have never dreamed that my life would mirror Ti Moune’s. at least she became a tree. i still have to learn to forgive.

Asaka, Ague, Erzuli, Papage, i will dance for you on this island. always.