There are a few things in life that give me goose bumps, and tonight my full body was covered by the feeling of being at a unique time and space. We went to a street fête, and as every Friday night in St. Lucia, a DJ was playing all kinds of Caribbean music, from reggae to dub. I might be new to the Caribbean, but I'm certainly not new to this kind of music. I spent most of my teenage years in Guadalajara listening to reggae and falling in love for pot-smoking surfers; imagining life in Jamaica and singing Redemption Song. Little have I known of the strong connection between the commonwealth nations, and it's affinity to cricket. Tonight's fête was a street fair with food vendors selling fried chicken legs and carts selling liquor called "mobile bars". It was a special night as the make-shift dance floor at an intersection was packed with cricket players from India and Pakistan, and along them the honeymooners, Rastafaris, expats, homeless, drug-dealers and distracted tourists. As we all danced and sung to Bob Marley's One Love I felt as if a piece of my life had come to a full circle. Here I was, singing my old repertoire along people in turbans and dreadlocks, Muslims, Hindu, Sikhs and Rastafaris, at a Caribbean island and under a full moon. You can hardly get more real than that.