Passa Passa Moments

He makes winds his messengers,
Flames of fire his servants.
Psalm 104:4

You should see the expressions I encounter when I tell the Jamaicans on campus that I’ve been, and continue to go to Passa Passa. No, I didn’t die, and yes, I did enjoy it. And as they shake their heads and pick their jaws off the ground, I say, “Wait, there’s more…”

I didn’t know what Passa Passa was before I came here. I had no clue that the “video-lights”, the invasive camera people, capture dancehall events like Passa Passa, where they are sold and dispersed to people across, and beyond the country. You can look those videos up on YouTube, but please don’t (and I bet that is exactly what you’re going to do after you read this). The longer I am here, the more uncomfortable I am with dancehall culture and the values that are portrayed in the music, dance and attitudes surrounding it. I say this not to assign judgment to the practice, because that is not the intent of this post. But I say it because there is something which keeps me going back, despite my discomfort, and I think it’s worth saying.

I am learning that reality- the reality I thought I would smack me in the face when I came to Jamaica- can, despite my initial reactions, be understood from the lives of people on campus when you begin to listen. But to be honest, I still love any excuse to get off campus and into the company of people who seem to have reality inscribed on their bodies and souls. So when I find myself at Passa Passa, a weekly event which peacefully hosts people of all classes, colours, races and genders, I feel strangely in my element. And believe it or not, I get far fewer “hey, it’s a white girl” stares and double takes there than I do on campus. At Passa Passa, I’m just another member of the crowd.

There is something about standing amidst such diversity. It’s impossible for me not to marvel at the uniqueness of God’s humanity, and at the way that He knows and loves each of us. And every time I experience Passa Passa, I think I enjoy being encircled by such a sea of individuals, recognizing our commonalities.

I think my lovely friend Bethany is right (and I hope she doesn’t mind that I am borrowing this idea) - there are forests of trees, and forests of people. We are a jungle of delicately messed up people. But on the street of Tivoli Gardens at 4 o’clock in the morning, I have been able to recognize God in my conversations and interactions with strangers in the same way that I recognize Him in the rustling braches of the forest. And if I’m not attuned to it, I will miss it. But if I’m still, beyond the raging music and obnoxious DJ, there are quiet messages to be heard in the pulse of creation.

And I would be lying if I said this exchange has been easy, or even close to what I expected it would be like (and I thought I was approaching it without expectations- bahaha). But despite the challenges, doubts and frustrations, there have been Passa Passa moments like this scattered encouragingly along the way. Nope, no grand revelations. And as much as I wish for those sometimes, I’ve come to accept that there probably won’t be any, and that’s okay.

So my time here is almost half over. I hope that the second half is filled with less frustration and more assuredness that coming here was a good decision to have made. But even if it’s not, there’s beauty in the journey, and undoubtedly, more Passa Passa moments to experience.

I hope your journey is filled with them as well.

Peace and love, y’all.