Humans of St Lucia

Centuries before it took on the name we recognise today, Saint Lucia was referred to as 'Louanalao' by the Arawak Indians around 200 AD, a translation that evoked the 'Island of the Iguanas.' The island's historical tapestry is enriched by the Carib Indians who arrived in 800 AD and bestowed upon it the name 'Hewanorra,' imprinting a lasting cultural legacy. Amidst the challenges of colonial times in the 1600s, the Caribs gallantly defended their ancestral land. Adding an element of swashbuckling intrigue, the island played host to the pirate François Le Clerc, famously known as 'Jambe de Bois,' who used Pigeon Island as his audacious base for launching attacks on Spanish ships in the 1550s.

Beyond its intriguing history, Saint Lucia is home to a warm and hospitable population, representing a vibrant fusion of Caribbean, French, and English influences.

Exploring diverse beaches and cities in St Lucia allows you to engage with the residents, fostering deep and meaningful conversations. A handful of these encounters will leave an indelible mark on one, causing you to reflect on the course of life more profoundly. While most of us aspire to attain a better life, complete with comfort and financial security, we seldom pause to ponder where this pursuit might ultimately lead us.

Many St. Lucians opt to venture to the shores of Western world America and Canada in search of a more promising existence compared to the modest offerings of their tranquil island. The economy and local infrastructure are not as impressive, I guess you can't have it all. But what truly captivated me was the fact that the majority of St. Lucians eventually returned to retire from their homeland. The island's allure lies in its unhurried pace, serene ambience, captivating sunsets, pristine rainforests, picturesque seascapes, and an overall sense of tranquillity.

Conversations with the elderly, individuals who have weathered life's storms and amassed a wealth of experiences, held a special significance. These interactions often encourage introspection, revealing how the trials and tribulations of daily existence can fortify individuals and prompt contemplation, imparting valuable insights into the essence of life itself. One conversation, in particular, resonated with me, because I live it everyday. It centred on the relentless pursuit of financial stability in urban settings, a path that often leads to dissatisfaction and a scarcity of time to relish life's simpler pleasures. Many of us find ourselves chasing after wealth, amassing possessions while forgetting our connection to nature and our intrinsic inclinations.

This detachment from nature and our inherent predispositions contributes to a growing sense of discontent, leaving us bewildered about the root causes of our unhappiness. What exacerbates this disquiet is the constant exposure to contrived and idealised depictions on social media. The majority of the content we encounter in the digital realm is artificial, fostering a pervasive sense of inadequacy and failure. We come to believe that there must be something inherently wrong with us, as we struggle to attain a constant state of unbridled happiness.

The fundamental truth is that human nature is not wired for perpetual happiness; the ebb and flow of life dictate that periods of joy are inextricably linked to challenges and moments of sorrow. Life is a delicate balance, and often, those with the least material possessions find the most genuine happiness. In contrast, those who chase materialism often come to realise that returning to a simpler life is the ultimate route to contentment.

There is a beauty and tranquility in the act of waking up in the morning in St Lucia, savouring a cup of coffee on a seaside terrace, and then strolling to a picture perfect beach. As evening falls, you enjoy a barbecue with your sole concern being the avoidance of pesky mosquitoes eating you alive. Or perhaps, you choose to lose yourself in a good book beside a pool adorned with a glass of rose, indulging in a refreshing swim at your leisure. You may find yourself traversing imperfect roads, but they wind through a vibrant rainforest where every hue is green. Even the heavy rainfall in this tropical rainforest is second to none. As daylight fades, a peaceful serenity surrounds you, occasionally punctuated by the resounding symphony of cicadas. This experience is nothing short of magical, making life feel truly worth living.

Greek singer/music producer Nicole Forlida about her remarkable album 'The Other London Eye'

Petite pretty girl with hypnotising eyes, Nicole challenges the construction of a woman "to-be-look-at-ness" by bringing a whole new experience with her musical language that feels so personal.

"Walking on an unstable thin line between severe depression and everyday life I had to break the stuff I had in my room in order not to break myself. I never opened the project to mix it because the mental breakdown started the following morning and placed me down for a year unstoppable. I don't want to mix it. I just want to send it out there and pray for the ones who are struggling with similar mental health issues. You are not crazy. The fight is an illusion but the mental and body weakness is real. Good luck to all." ( My head has gone insane from the album The Other London Eye)

There is so much to talk about! Your album is raw and full of emotions with meaning that you can easily go off on a tangent while discussing it.

Zuzana: You strike me as an exciting new voice in the indie experimental music scene and your musical style is unique. Challenging the perception of the female singer stereotype perhaps?

Nicole: I don’t know what the stereotype is. Channelling myself through music instead of visiting a psychiatrist is probably the most appropriate statement for my case.

It is a fact, I am indeed, a female. Another fact is that I never managed to be taken seriously for actual work in any studio. My naive and aloof behaviour didn’t help either, but that is a flaw I am not willing to adjust for the occasion, leaving music production a personal issue from start to end. I never felt bad about it, I just felt lonely. Like so, I ended up in London, the place where all people get mad eventually. I love those people a bit more.

Zuzana: Why is that?

Nicole: Some of them are economic immigrants, people who know how to feel gratitude in a system where others point out flaws everywhere. Some are dreamers, who paint the cultural atmosphere of the city and work hard in random jobs only to maintain everything London sells out to be.

London can’t exist without both of those elements and at the same time, it is those elements that become worn out, exhausted or hurt and get replaced by new ones eventually, continuing the circle of arrivals and departures. Nevertheless, those people are actively trying. And I am in favour of anything that opposes armchair critics.

Zuzana: The only mermaid was created upon your arrival in your homeland. Could you tell us a bit more about it?

"Like a child with no memories, the pills must have been working well. An old small classical guitar was staying still and dusty in the corner of the living room. Some seashells around the room could make percussion sounds but I should leave that stuff alone for a while. However, the ocean sound of the big shell spoke like an uncomfortably familiar sound of harmony and brought past experiences blended into a wave." Nicole (The Only Mermaid)

Nicole: Greece is a lovely land. My arrival was hell. What a great asshole must you feel like if you are in heaven and it feels like a nightmare to you! Adding a bit more judgement to my blindness, I was wondering where have all the people gone? That was the last time I found my way out through my music by recording The only mermaid.

All of my studio equipment and instruments were stolen on my attempt to send them back to Greece giving me another slap-in-the-face-sign to reset. This is why the only mermaid is recorded with only one small guitar and an old microphone I found almost accidentally and have never recorded anything ever since.

Zuzana: What do you appreciate most about creating a piece of music?

Nicole: The fact that it happens without notifying you. That’s the only moment I embrace that comes above me. You can feel it in your whole body. You feel the urge of running towards your guitar or microphone without knowing what it is you have to do!

I can’t hide the fact that since I lost all my stuff, there are moments I need to burst out in tears having that feeling but lacking the instruments...

Zuzana: What do you think is lacking in today's mainstream music scene right now?

I am a bit lost as to what is mainstream right now as I don’t follow it. I surely understand that when an industry needs to sell fast, it uses production line models. So, the quality of a handmade blouse is probably more interesting than a T-shirt from H&M. The music industry can’t be far away from that, I assume. 

On the contrary, we are blessed with a huge number of artists in every corner of the world. What if the mainstream isn’t what I want it to be? What if I think it is shit? (I do). It is my own responsibility to find the artists I find authentic or beautiful. It might be a difficult journey, but when you finally hit a rock, look down and find out it is gold, then you embrace it even more! In a western world where everything is handed to us, let music be the one luxury that needs just a little bit of our exploration. 

Zuzana: What's a song you consider a masterpiece from start to finish?

Nicole: The first masterpiece that popped into my head is Echoes from Pink Floyd which disintegrates and chants in favour of life at once.

In the next five minutes, another five masterpieces are going to pop into my head since you asked me. That is the brilliant world of music. Travelling back in time, with the lutes of John Dowland to the latest noise of the psychotic monks, there are countless unknown souls telling a music story. Maybe there are no masterpieces, but there are a million pieces of a music mastered above.