A Little More Bajan: Finding My Way Through My First Crop Ova

I expected my first Crop Ova to feel like stepping into a familiar world. I imagined the kind of place where the music would make me feel like I had arrived home, where every event would carry some piece of Barbadian culture and the island would be full of life. Crop Ova had always looked like the best time online, so naturally, my expectations were high. I was expecting pure vibes and a carnival culture that would feel familiar to me as someone who grew up in Saint Lucia.

What I didn’t expect was just how much was happening.

There was a pace to Crop Ova that I hadn’t quite anticipated. Events seemed to happen back-to-back, and the energy on the island was so infectious that sitting still almost felt impossible. During Crop Ova, there always seemed to be something happening somewhere.
One of the things that surprised me most was experiencing local events and seeing just how invested people were in their music. At Soca State of Mind, the crowd was absolutely pumping to older Barbadian soca that I didn’t know. At one point, someone tried to pull me into the hype and dance along with them, only for me to look completely confused because I had no idea what song was playing. I had to explain that I simply didn’t know the song, but I loved watching everyone else enjoy themselves so freely. There was so much joy on people’s faces.

That same sense of community followed the road.

I was surprised by how well-mannered and organized the road experience felt. Bands were able to move through the streets without people constantly entering their space, while stations with chairs were set up for spectators to comfortably watch the bands pass. There was an obvious respect for the road, the masqueraders and the people who had come out to enjoy it.

For me, being in Barbados carried another layer.

I was born here, but I grew up in Saint Lucia. I also lived in Barbados during my early twenties. Although that period happened during COVID, I had the opportunity to learn the island, build meaningful friendships and experience more of its culture firsthand.
Returning after roughly three years for my first Crop Ova felt different. I am blessed because I was surrounded by people who simply wanted to make sure I had a good time. Thank God for good friendships. I am still culturally Saint Lucian accent and all but Barbados is also home. There was a certain peace in being back on the island, experiencing Crop Ova and learning little pieces of its history directly from locals.

I remember being on the Crop Ova route and passing familiar places around Black Rock. I found myself smiling because those locations brought back memories from another chapter of my life. Even something as simple as breakfast became a moment of connection.I wanted souse so badly and it was served as part of breakfast on foreday morning because it was Saturday and that’s simply the norm here. It made me ridiculously happy. It was something I had adopted when I lived in Barbados, and having it again during Crop Ova felt like a small reminder of a place I already knew.

I also had the opportunity to play mas with Krave – The Band. While I can’t speak to where the individual costumes were made, the band itself is proudly Barbadian, and being welcomed into that environment gave me another sense of belonging. They made sure I was set for the road and allowed me to experience Crop Ova from the perspective of a masquerader rather than simply someone watching from the sidelines. Obviously, the costume was cute but what stayed with me wasn’t necessarily the costume itself. It was the feeling of being part of something.

The Soundtrack of My Crop Ova

If I had to create a highlight reel of my Crop Ova experience, the music would probably take up half of it.
Two of my friends are artists, and getting to hear their music being performed throughout the season was genuinely special. Seeing people embrace their music in completely ordinary moments , hearing it at the supermarket ,on the radio and on the road was incredibly heartwarming. One of them even got recognized during a supermarket run!
Azizi Clarke’s Ain’t Doing That and Shadae Lewis’ Money became part of my Crop Ova soundtrack. I was so proud watching people enjoy the work of my friends. Then there were the songs I simply could not get out of my head.
Active – Lastacia
After All – Shaquille GFG and Skinny Fabulous
Weatherman – Jordan English as well as Active & Browling
Rough So – Leadpipe
Like Ah Bajan – Mikey Mercer

I would randomly find myself singing them long after leaving an event. More than the songs themselves, what struck me was how strongly Barbadians support their artists. At almost every event, local artists were given space and the crowd responded with genuine enthusiasm every single time. There was something beautiful about watching an audience know the words, recognize the artists and celebrate music that came from their own community. The music also reflected more than partying. Alot of the songs touched on real life, loss, hardwork, family, relationships and everyday experiences, while still encouraging people to get up, move and enjoy themselves. We certainly did.

A Culture You Could Feel

One of the things I came to understand during Crop Ova is that Barbadian culture isn’t something that appears only during designated cultural moments. It seemed to follow the season everywhere. The food, the music the fashion the dialect, the folklore, the stories
Barbadians clearly love good food, and they also know how to look good. Everywhere I went, people had put thought into what they were wearing. I enjoyed seeing how creative people became with their outfits. I would speak to someone about what they were wearing and watch their face light up as they explained it. Their excitement made me even more excited for them! I also found myself having random conversations with people about what Crop Ova meant to them. Strangers were more than willing to explain pieces of the culture and history behind what I was experiencing. Artists carried that same sense of identity into their performances, whether through Bajan dialect, folklore, characters or references that felt deeply rooted in the island.

It was visible. It was lived. It was unique.

A Caribbean Girl at a Fete

Working in media has changed the way I experience events. I notice things differently now. I look at how an event is produced, what moments would make good content, who is interacting with whom and what stories are happening around me. That was particularly true when I was working with Barbados Today, experiencing Mimosa and interviewing people along the road. Despite the camera, the interviews and the media work, I was still just a Caribbean girl at a fete having a great time. One of my favourite events was Duttimess.
I’m biased because I love a Jouvert, but there is something about an event where the only real objective is to have a good time. You aren’t worrying about getting paint or powder on you. You aren’t worrying about keeping your outfit perfect. You just get to move, laugh, dance and exist in the moment. I felt free and that feeling became one of the biggest themes of my Crop Ova experience.

The Parts You Don’t Expect

Of course, no season is perfect. I got sick and had to miss a few events, which was frustrating because there was so much happening and I wanted to experience everything. Sometimes your body simply has other plans. I also noticed that some events took a little longer to reach their most vibrant point than I expected. But once the energy arrived, it was worth the wait. Overall, moving around was relatively easy and even when there were challenges with traffic, event organizers were aware and accommodating. Perhaps the most unexpected part of Crop Ova was how emotional it could make me.

This was my first Crop Ova. It was also my first time experiencing Barbados without my father.

There were moments when I would be out enjoying myself and suddenly find myself wondering what he would have thought about me being here. I wondered what his own experience of Crop Ova had been and what he would have thought about his daughter finally experiencing it for herself. That made the season nostalgic in a way I hadn’t anticipated. There was happiness, but there was also memory. I suppose that’s part of what made the experience feel so meaningful.

Finding My Way

More than anything, my first Crop Ova left me feeling grateful.
Grateful to be alive.
Grateful for friendship.
Grateful for music.
Grateful for the opportunity to experience another part of my own Caribbean identity.
My biggest takeaway came from the music itself, remain active, remain grateful and continue to have fun with life.
Being here really is a blessing. I arrived in Barbados expecting a carnival. I left feeling like I had learned something about home.
Maybe being Barbadian isn’t about choosing it over the Saint Lucian identity I grew up with. Maybe it’s about understanding that both can exist within me.
I can still be the Saint Lucian girl and carry my heritage with me accent and all, while finding little pieces of myself in Barbados too.
I can hear an unfamiliar Bajan song and eventually learn the words.
I can eat souse for breakfast and feel ridiculously happy about it.
I can walk through Black Rock and smile at memories.
I can play mas with a Bajan band and feel at home.
I can watch strangers celebrate their artists and feel proud of Caribbean creativity.
I can experience the road, be covered in colour, music and movement, and simply let myself be free.

Crop Ova means freedom to me now.

My first experience reminded me to reconnect with my roots, appreciate the people who show up for me and recognize the power of meaningful relationships. Most importantly, it reminded me that life is meant to be lived. Sometimes loudly. Sometimes covered in powder.
Sometimes singing a song you don’t even know the words to but always with gratitude.