Explaining the Bahamas to someone as a child is akin to detailing “Fantasy Island”. Your mind immediately begins tip-toeing across images of white beaches, beautiful women and clear blue water. Of fancy drinks and authentic seafood and a general hospitality that would make any etiquette coach beam with pride. That’s the Americanized version of the Bahamas, a tourist destination where one could wipe away their worries while kicked back with a Nassau Royal with an umbrella to twirl around.

The actual Bahamas are all of that and yet there’s even more to it. It’s not one island but rather a collection of several hundred, dominated by two in Andros, which is the largest of the islands and where the capital of Nassau is located; and Grand Bahama Island, home to the commercial center of Freeport and Lucayan, the tourist destination propped up with hotels, beaches and more. Stretching all of 97 miles, Lucayan has managed to fit two 18-hole championship golf courses, a large industrial port and more into its daily life. The city of Freeport takes up 1/3rd of the actual island and even though there may approximately be around 60,000 people here, they will make you feel as if you had 60,000 relatives.

As a first timer leaving America, you realize that even if you’re in another country, you’re still amazingly close to every bit of American custom. Grand Bahama Island is the closest island to the United States, a mere 20-minute flight from Miami to Freeport International Airport. When you land, most of what the island means to people hits you. There’s a live band the moment you enter Bahamian customs; a greeting staff to accommodate you and inquire about your stay; a slew of shops and items ranging from knick knacks to premium alcohol and a stretch of palm trees as far as the eye can see. This, is the Bahamas at its most minimal, still adjusting after suffering the most devastating hurricane in island history just six months ago.

“It felt like there was a monster outside,” Braynan, our 52-year-old driver told us. “In the belly of the storm. I’ve been through many a storm and that one … there were tornadoes inside of the hurricane.”

Had Mother Nature cooperated in October, Hurricane Matthew would have never been a topic of conversation along Lucayan. From the restaurants down to the hotel staff at Grand Lucayan, everyone had a story about how Matthew affected them. There were stretches of condominiums and larger buildings virtually empty along our ride to the resort. Areas that would be vibrant with life and people exercising the daily routines of the world were simply gone. Spaces were boarded up, roofs still missing a few shingles. Trees thrown aside and even bent in eerily perfect 90 degree angles. Matthew had forced businesses to close and spaces to adjust, even forced a few men and women into closets in their home just to survive. Yet no one died, which may have been the larger miracle of all.

It made my trip to Grand Lucayan a bit of a sober one. For all of the beauty of the Bahamas, from its people down to its services, they continued on mainly because fighting and surviving is all they know. Hurricanes come and go, people may come and go. Faces change, prices and amenities may shift downward or upward. But the spirit of the Bahamas is always to work, dig deep and make a way when there appears to not be one in sight.

Building On Faith

Bishop Henry Fernandez had to adjust as well.

The Jamaican born clergyman originally planned for his Faith Fest Conference to take place in late October but Matthew ripped those plans to shreds. He still wanted to have the festival there, his spirit unwavered or unmoved by what a natural disaster may have wrought upon the country. He worked with the Ministry of Tourism to help put together not only Faith Fest but also bring members of the media down. Being in the Bahamas was one thing, getting a bit of a spiritual awakening was another.

“We put together a trip to not only assist an organization, but to kill two birds with one stone,” D. Ernestine Moxyz said. As the lead arm of the Ministry of Tourism, it was she along with our two guides, Brooke Grant & Chivvaun Smith who served as our lead escorts around the island. “At the same time, we want to bring people to the destination so that they get an experience for the destination.”

Then it was settled. Faith Fest, Fernandez’ two-day mark of fellowship and spirituality would coincide with my first walk on somewhat foreign soil.

As a conference, Faith Fest exercised on two distinct principles. The first was accommodation. Many who had come to the Bahamas to experience the conference in October had come to a destination locale where they could relax and destress. They could talk American politics but it wouldn’t dominate their daily mouthy outputs. As Grand Lucayan dealt with not being fully operational during the storm, they instead amplified what they could offer in regards to their Lighthouse Pointe side. The area felt like a retro-modern hotel with breathable living space, a spa on the second floor and a full gym on the third. On-site dining included Churchill’s, which was a close to a quiet four-star restaurant as one may get and Portobello’s, which served breakfast, lunch & dinner buffets. It was here one would learn that fruit punch in the Bahamas is a little thicker, sweeter and more fulfilling than in the States.

The second principle was comfort. Even if these worshipers and members of the faith had dined with one another and laughed with one another, they mostly kept to themselves back home. Whatever secrets or hidden wives tales they had built inside weren’t going to be let out. Instead over the course of the two-day event, they opened up more. They let their hair down a bit at an all-white party Friday night to signal the close of the conference. They revealed their faults and insecurities during a relationship panel and ultimately, they fell to the grace and mercy and the revelation of the Spirit.

“We wanted everyone to have a true Bahamian experience,” Fernandez said. “We wanted people to leave and say, ‘That was a true Bahamian experience.’” People have to be here. It’s more than just telling them about it. I have to send my deepest thanks to the Bahamas Tourism Board. They were willing to stay true to their commitment and the only bad part was that, the quality of hotel and rooms that were sold to people? They did not get. The experience? The culture? They got it. And we had to do damage control.”

From Thursday to Friday, many a member of Fernandez’ The Faith Center couldn’t find a single bad thing to say about the island, or the resort in particular. “This what happened in Grand Bahama was a lesson,” he said. “I grew up a poor little boy, the fifth of six kids. It was a rough beginning but it was a resilience that kept me going. We were going to make this happen. You can only get better when you walk through your pain. You can only succeed and become more mature when you are developed.”

He brought a little bit of Houston with him for the development. Comedian Marcus Wiley grew up as a preacher’s kid in Missouri City. James Fortune, the award winning gospel singer had made his bones in Houston. Pastor Sheryl Brady, who brought the convention center house down on Friday night resides in Dallas. Tye Tribbet, a Georgia boy who can find pop sensibilities within Gospel got the crowd jumping and singing when doors opened on Thursday night. But the most impactful moment of the conference didn’t occur within its walls. Rather, it was outside of them.

Friday morning, a small group of parishioners had made their way to an AM workout along the resort. The waves of the Atlantic Ocean crashed alongside as they ran around the Great Lawn, a spacious field that ran about 70 yards in diameter. Some were cancer survivors, others were men and women praying for strength in their finance and their families. They prayed with aching bones and joints, meditated while caked in sweat and found fellowship amongst one another. Before the prayer circle broke up, they were one large organism, vociferous in their tone and singular in their message. They wanted guidance to carry them in varying ways throughout 2017. I counted myself among them.

An Adult, Spiritual Spring Break

“It’s pronounced ‘conk’.”

“Not ‘conch?’”

“Conk.”

I was stumbling. Thursday night was the first time I had managed to sit along with Brooke, Chivvaun, Ernestine and two other writers, one from Miami in Gigi Tinsley and one from the Midwest in John Timothy Kern, who preferred to be called Tim for short. We were discussing the conch shell and how the inside of it had become a Bahamian afrodisiac. Only problem was, I kept pronouncing it like it was spelled.

It took me a few tries but by Saturday evening, hours before we were set to depart one another’s company I was a wizard in pronouncing conch the way Bahamians

do. The correct way, they emphasized. I had to adjust thinking a conk was just a palmade manipulated hairstyle worn by soul singers in the 1960s and 70s.

By then my body had consumed Cracked Conch with mashed potatoes & mixed veggies inside The Grill. One of the newer restaurants in the Port Lucaya Marketplace, the vibe gives off quaint steakhouse with a twist. When you walk in, there’s a stereo system pumping the greatest hits of Whitney Houston. The menu, a clever mix of burgers, seafood, steaks, fine wines and desserts offers something for everyone. It was here that I made my peace with the Bahamas, my trip and everything that had come before it. Sipping on a Nassau Royal, which could easily be described as a dessert version of Crown Royal, I professed endless adulation and thanks to the Tourism Board for arranging all of this.

I replayed the last 48 hours in my head and it felt like a serpentine dream. Earlier on Saturday we ventured out to Out Da Sea, a non-touristy destination where authentic seafood was caught and cooked on the spot. An outdoor bar and restaurant, Out Da Sea offered a rarity on the island - a bit of danger. “There’s a reason why people don’t get the barracuda bites,” our waitress said, pointing to the menu. There in bold letters did everything get spelled out for us. Order At Your Own Risk. Barracuda, come to find out can be poisonous. I thought of it as some sort of pirate tale carried on by the restaurant as a form of culture; a quaint uniqueness. Tim ordered them and asked me if I wanted a piece.

I didn’t pass up the opportunity.

Thanks to a knife & fork, I want ahead and tried the barracuda bites without much fear or reservation attached. They tasted like chicken. I doubled down on my poultry intake with some wings glazed in a Coconut BBQ sauce while the other members of my party either ate light or devoured lobster. Why not come to a place for the first time and engage in almost everything possible? Why not go to a place in Bahama Bay with easily the whitest, bluest beach my eyes had ever seen? Why not walk the sands, let my feet get wet and embrace the beauty of not just nature but the freeing aspect of being able to be ignorant of the issues back home?

Why not feel free, period?

“Coming back here? It’s a breath of fresh air,” Demetree Ossude told me on Friday. Born in the Bahamas and now residing in Plano, she enjoys having the dual citizenship. “Not having to be in air condition all the time, the nature of it all. But I love Texas too. It’s kind of like … none is better than the next.”

She laughed. “You’re not getting mechanical bull riding here.”

Her friend, Harveyann Newbold agreed. “Grand Bahama has enough city and enough island. As opposed to all island in which you have to give up some amenities and all city where you don’t get the beauty.”

I met the two Texan Bahamians over drinks, as ironic as it sounds. We were sitting back on the top floor of the Bahamian Brewery, one of the bigger tourism destinations on the island. When you walk in from downstairs, you immediately see the distilleries that shoot high into the sky. Yet your first stop is the liquor store so you can grab the drinks, wines, spirits, cognacs or brandy that is twice as expensive in the States. Head back upstairs and you’re given a lay of the land, how the beer is made, how it is examined and scientifically broken down and how James Sands of Sands Beer won’t export a thing to the United States, making his beer a Bahamian exclusive. You taste the high end beer and find yourself enamored a bit with the Pink variety because of the grapefruit taste. And then you head back downstairs and begin to plot on how you can grab another rare bottle of alcohol and bring it back home.

From Garden of the Groves, which doubles as a nature park but also a space for weddings and multiple souvenir shops to the Perfume Factory and Candle Factory, Grand Bahama manages to keep certain destinations as locale and unique as possible. Garden of the Groves aligns not only to the spirit of nature, tribalism and African history, there is a chapel along the brookside near plenty of lush vegetation. Here, one could pray or sit in a pew and soak in decades if not centuries of practices at this one very arena. Or, one could find a way to find their center while walking the Labyrinth located near the rear of the Groves. I left Grand Bahama on Sunday feeling not only refreshed but thankful. I had grabbed as many brochures as I could to discuss the perfume factory that looked like your grandmother’s house if she resided on South MacGregor but doubled as one of the largest exporters of fine fragrances in the world. Or how candles created with specific waxes and oils made for the perfect aroma to lift up a room Sabor Restaurant didn’t owe me a thing in regards to its fine lemonade (also another Bahamian delicacy), Conch Fritters and Grouper made me rethink anytime I’ve ever eaten tilapia.

The Ministry of Tourism had accomplished what it set out to do. With the arduous task of not only helping pull off a large conference, it made a young man from Texas want to never leave the island and pick up a Visa to work. Or, tell the rest of the world how strong and resilient the island is. The charm may be found in its invaluable hospitality and graciousness. It’s strength lies in the constant belief that it must always push forward.