The river near me was called the Caura River, a place I remember for all its beautiful natural environment. The river was a stone’s throw away from where I lived. In my late teens, my friends and I would meet up at John’s shop. We would buy the stuff we needed for our outings.

Setting off on foot, we walked along the trail and kept our eyes peeled for any snakes. Very rarely did we ever see one. We ate snacks while we walked up the riverside. On our way to Payrine, my favorite pool, we passed Guava Hole, where I learned how to swim. I was just eleven or twelve years old when a friend pushed me off a rock into the river. All I remember is moving my hands and feet to try and stay above water. On that day, when I arrived home, my mom gave me a cut ass—in other words, a spanking. She did this because I had not been given permission to go out.

After passing Guava Hole, we made our way to Payrine. Upon arriving, we would set up our stuff to cook on the banks of the river. We would cook rice, curry duck, and pepper pork. While the food would cook, we would usually have alcoholic beverages, play a card game called all fours, and also swim and enjoy the pool.

The surroundings were green trees, bushes, plants, flowers, and the sounds of animals in their habitat. Now, looking back at my earlier life, I would say to myself, “I had it really good.”