It would seem that the hip, new thing for young women to do when they go to shows and parties is smoke weed. Yes, you know, weed, ganja, cannabis, marijuana, pot, dope, grass, joint, spliff, roach, call it by whatever name you want, it’s a narcotic and it’s illegal. Yet young seemingly well-heeled women can be seen lighting up in public places and so far with impunity.
My first encounter with these spliff-sucking sisters was at the Beenie Man concert – the one before the last. There I was, singing along with the ‘King of Dancehall’ and minding my own and Beenie’s business of course when the unmistakable smell of cannabis wafted into my limited sphere of oxygen in the crowded Providence National Stadium. My first thought was that there must be a Rastaman or two or three nearby (no offence, Dread). But then I caught a glimpse of a thin tattooed arm passing the Dutchie (kouchie) ‘pon the left hand side to a well-manicured, definitely feminine hand and there was no preventing me openly staring in some shock. There were some four or five of them – no males in sight, which is not to say they might not have been in the group – enjoying a joint.
These girls who were between the ages of 18 and 25 (I hope) wore fancy outfits, high heels, jewellery, hot hairdos and pounds of makeup, with manicures and pedicures intact and they were so engrossed in what they were doing that they didn’t even catch me staring. And the spliff kept making the rounds as they rocked to the sounds of Beenie Man; dancing, singing and giggling.
I would have liked to believe that the incident was a one-off; an aberration, but it was not. Ganja, it seems, is the new Grey Goose.
Beenie Man came back for the Easter concert and they or others just like them – I doubt it was the same group – were at it again.
Beres Hammond’s concert was the same thing. By this time I sort of expected to see them and they did not disappoint. I didn’t need to stare anymore, but I caught others doing so, open-mouthed. I guess what boggles the mind is also that there is no attempt to find a darkened corner, no attempt to hide what they are doing; these sisters were just doing their thing right there.
Yes there was full police protection at all the shows, but once the main performers got on stage you could no longer even see the men and women in blue/khaki.
I have since been informed that it’s not that new a phenomenon; it has been going on for some time now but more publicly of late. I guess the ganja smoking girls are getting bolder.
I ventured to ask a young woman who fit the profile – not that I’d ever seen her indulging — and she said that some girls who wanted to “feel nice” but not have to run to the washroom often were finding that cannabis did it for them.
Hmmm… (SMH) I wonder if they have considered whether it would feel nice to spend some time at the East La Penitence lockups or the Berbice women’s prison? Not forgetting the fact that marijuana use can cause distorted perceptions, impaired coordination, difficulty with thinking and problem solving, and problems with learning and memory and that it’s addictive.
Personally, I wouldn’t want to be under the influence of any narcotic substance when I’m enjoying a performance by someone of the calibre of Beres, or even Beenie for that matter. The music is enough to get me high. (thescene@stabroeknews.com)
