Liming sweet

I don’t think I heard the word “lime” being used in reference to “hanging out” until I got to high school. After living in TT, liming capital of the world, I think Mrs Kerr- Alleyne must have had a Trini as her best friend in college, because her use of the word liming came to life when I encountered its vast variety in TT.

A lime is technically a group of people, gathered leisurely, usually involving drinks, conversation and music. I have no doubt that the act of liming must be another major contributing factor to TT being ranked the 38th happiest in the world, out of 156 countries – and happiest in the Caribbean.

For those who have yet to visit TT: when you do visit, you may attend a river lime, lime on D’Avenue, go to a beach lime, or jump out of your car at some point on your way home for a lime to avoid traffic.

And don’t despair in times of alarm. I have heard legends of finding comfort and consolation in storm limes, and the 1990 coup limes. I understand the legend of coup limes is actually true, but I didn’t doubt it.

I am constantly given reason to smile in amazement, witnessing Trinis gather anywhere at any time, on any given day for a lime. Any event can be preceded by a lime, grow from a lime, and be followed by a lime.

One Sunday I was invited to a beach lime, where I had the amount of fun that would amount to what Trinis call “a time.” After being on the beach, having “a time,” until about 5 pm, we had to head back.

I thought, “That was a great day, time to go home and start preparing for work on Monday.” But while packing up my bag I heard, “Come to the house lime, nah. It will be vibes, bai.”

It was not over. The beach lime was the prequel of what would be a house lime.

Two weeks ago I was invited to another house lime. I decided I would wear jeans, a plain T-shirt and Toms. I anticipated drinks, of course, music, great conversation and maybe board games.

When I arrived at the house, the parking area for the lime was full, resulting in people having to park blocks away.

When I got to the house and walked around to the back, I saw tents, a DJ, portable toilets, a doubles stand and about 300 people.

“Is this a lime too?” I asked myself.

At the end of it all, I had an amazing evening – and yet again, I had experienced another definition of liming. People dressed as they would for a band launch, and there were drinks, doubles and dancing under disco lights.

I am yet to attend a river lime, but I look forward to doing it at some point. I imagine having corn soup and doubles while listening to music on a river bank, occasionally jumping into the cold flowing water – another experience that defines what it means to be Trinidadian or Tobagonian for many.

The practice of liming, at first glance, may look like a trait of a nation that takes everything a little too lightly, but I do find it admirable. It shows a people who manage to make beautiful experiences out of standing outside a bar, just drinking – and liming – on a Friday night.

It shows how families may drive down to a river with food, music and drinks to bask in simplicity and nature at its best.

Liming as a cultural practice, in all its variety, displays the power and fulfilment that can be found in coming together to share moments with those we love – and meet new people the good ole-fashioned way, talking face to face, looking them in the eye and shaking hands instead of by tapping a “follow” button.

I have seen limes turn simple moments into moments to remember. Already some of the limes I have experienced since I came to TT will never be forgotten, and have built wonderful friendships.