Discovering The Subtle Art Of Turks And Caicos

The first thing you notice about David Bowen, the director of culture at the Turks and Caicos Islands Ministry of Culture, is his stance.

He is sitting impossibly upright, as if there is an invisible rope above his head connected to the ceiling. He sits like a ballet dancer, which at one point he was. Born on Grand Turk, one of eight inhabited islands in the 40-island archipelago that make up his country, Bowen studied ballet in New York in the 1980s before living and performing in Sweden and Japan.

The second thing you notice about him is that he has a wonderful sense of humor.

During a dinner I attended with him in June at the villa where I was staying in Turks and Caicos, Bowen laughed frequently and openly. He weighed in on the Kendrick Lamar and Drake controversy, noting, as many Turks and Caicos locals do, that Drake is practically a local given how often he visits his country. He relayed that the national food of Turks and Caicos is dried conch and grain, a tribute to the African slaves who were brought to the island by the British after the American Revolutionary War, and also a nod to the virility of the men who live there. . (“The drier the conch, the looser the loose,” she laughed.) She breathed more joy when she interacted with her friend, Natasha Ewing, also a native of the island, whose poise and poise match theirs.

Bowen was at the dinner to educate me about the island culture. Before our conversation, I knew almost nothing about it. From afar, the island looks like a tropical paradise marked by turquoise waters and white sand beaches that cater to the rich and famous. During my weekend stay, I saw photos on Instagram of Turks and Caicos taken by Sai De Silva, one of Real Housewives of New York, who was staying at the legendary Amanyara resort, and photos of Grace Bay, the country's most famous stretch of beach, posted by Kim Kardashian. It's almost as easy to find a photo of a celebrity in Turks and Caicos as it is to find one of a celebrity at an awards ceremony.

It's easy to see why the more elitist among us are drawn to the country. Turks and Caicos is not only beautiful from the shore, but also beautiful in the water. During my stay, I spent two days with Big Blue Collective, an eco-adventure agency that offers boat tours and kayak tours, among other ocean trips. On the first afternoon, Geneile Robinson, a lively company tour guide, led a group of tandem kayakers to the Princess Alexandra Nature Reserve, where we stood in a red mangrove forest and watched hawksbill sea turtles swim by below us in perfect clarity. water As we observed them, Robinson he advised us to stand still so we could hear the soft “puff” of air released when the turtles came up for breath.

On the second day, Mark Parrish, the company's co-owner, guided a boat captained by Aaliyah (Ali) Oudman to West Caicos, a currently uninhabited island in the archipelago that is the site of a decommissioned Ritz Carlton development.

As the waves crashed against the island's abandoned limestone cliffs, etched with fossilized remains of coral, we entered the Marine National Park, a 981-acre underwater reserve marked by sheer, precipitous walls in the deep ocean. Above the water, the ocean looked rough, but with the snorkel on, I could see that the aquatic habitat was calm beneath my body.

I watched with peaceful gratitude as first Mark, then Ali, dove freely on the ocean floor, sometimes 50 feet deep, to point out turtles, rays, curious fish, sea sponges, and shells. As they descended, seemingly effortlessly, their bodies in simple sinuous lines, I realized that I had never seen a more beautiful performance.

The sense that Turks and Caicos is a luxury destination was not belied by my accommodations, which were in a four-bedroom beachfront villa at Beach Enclave North Shore, a ten-acre resort in Providenciales where the three-bedroom rentals start at $2,000 a night. The villa, which came with a private butler who basically provided all the chores I do at home as a mother to my two children, was designed in the minimalist, concrete-box style of famed architect Tadao Ando.

In the mornings, when I woke up, I would climb out of my crisp white bed overlooking the almost comical turquoise waters of the ocean, grab my butler's coffee, and step out into the humid Caribbean air, which felt like a warm towel. on my skin after air conditioning. I then had two options. Take a dip in the plunge pool on the terrace or go down two more stairs and swim directly in the ocean. Needless to say, I usually opted for the latter. Buffered by a barrier reef, the ocean is calm and warm.

The complex is part of a chain of resorts managed by Beach Enclave, which includes a total of 27 residences and private villas spread over three locations on Providenciales, the most inhabited island in the country. They are far from the only luxury accommodations on an island, but they are unique in the sense that they are designed to blend seamlessly with the natural world.

Unlike other places where the wealthy flock to vacation, there was no sense of stark inequality in the Beach Enclave or Turks and Caicos in general. There were no armed guards patrolling the perimeter of the property, for example, as there were in the villa I stayed in during my 40s.^th birthday in Tulum, Mexico in 2022.

The reasons for this are complex beyond my understanding, but I gained some insight from conversations with people like Jennifer Pardo, a marketing director at Beach Enclave. Explaining that both the governor and deputy governor of the Turks and Caicos Islands government are women, she noted, “Gender inequality does not exist here.” We were having lunch at da Conch Shack, a beach restaurant famous for its rum punch and, yes, its conch fritters. The other guests that night were mostly hen parties and families full of kids. In the ocean beyond our table, small children played in the water in their dress clothes. On the perimeter, vendors sold snails that, when properly blown, emitted cries of lamentation, and cries of joy from whoever had made them sing.

Bowen, the night he came for dinner, said the country's demographic story is complicated. Technically part of the British overseas territory, the Turks and Caicos were inhabited by the Taíno people, who also inhabited present-day Puerto Rico and Cuba, when Europeans began arriving in the Caribbean in the 16th.^th century The Tainos of Turks and Caicos were almost completely wiped out by forced slavery and disease in 1513, and the islands remained uninhabited until African slaves were brought to harvest salt and grow sea island cotton imported from Georgia in 17.^th century The British abolished slavery in 1834, freeing the island's inhabitants. A good percentage of the local population can trace their heritage to these freed slaves, as well as slaves who were shipwrecked (and thus freed) near the island while on their way to be sold in the legal markets of Cuba. Today, the population of just over 60,000 people in the country is 87.6% black. Their culture derives from their independence and is built on the land they farm, the tools they have and the gifts of the ocean.

In his short time with me, David, a musician and dancer, demonstrated the local music “Rake and Scrape” on a handsaw, a common handsaw that in Turks and Caicos is bent and stroked to emit a scraping tonal rhythm . . The hacksaw is usually accompanied by accordions, drums and harmonicas. Bowen also talked about Maskanew, a street festival held every Boxing Day that grew out of slaves mocking rich dress-up dances on the 19th.^th century

In 2002, Bowen was invited to design a national dress for the island for Elizabeth II's Golden Jubilee, which marked 50 years.^th anniversary of his reign.

At dinner, she showed a doll wearing the costume, which was a white cotton cannon decorated with vertical colored ribbons, and that men and women wear it differently. Each colored ribbon represents a symbol of national identity. Yellow is for the sun, the glory of God, which shines 365 days a year in Turks and Caicos. Red, the top of the national plant, a turk's head cactus, which resembles a turkish fez, and can be found mainly on Grand Turk, the capital island. White gold for salt from Salt Key, one of the crops harvested by the slaves. Orange for lobster and fish caught by the fishing industry in South and East Caicos. Pink for the conch harvested from the ocean floor, and the wild flamingos we saw nesting in St. Caterina, West Caicos. So for the thatch used for the roofs of the houses. Green for the plants of North Caicos and Parrot Cay, the most fertile of the limestone islands. And turquoise for the unique waters that attract tourists.

Most of Bowen's cultural manifestation took place outdoors on the villa's covered terrace. Rain fell lightly in the damp air; the sun set, leaving golden trails on the ocean. Just before dinner was served, Bowen demonstrated how villagers blew into the basins to alert neighbors of approaching storms. (“David!” laughed Natasha. “It's too loud!”) When dinner was served inside, we all shivered visibly in the air conditioning.

Bowen was as at ease in the formal setting of the meal as he was in the ocean breeze. He is a man of the world but also of the islands where he was born. This is Turks and Caicos, a place of great natural beauty built by freed slaves that has become one of the most exclusive vacation destinations in the world.

By 9 p.m., Bowen and Natasha were ready to go home. They had imparted their wisdom. The rain had stopped. The warm air awaited them. I climbed into my air-conditioned bed and slept soundly with the blinds open so that when I woke up in the morning I could see the ocean.