Two weekends ago I performed in St Lucia. The occasion was the annual Guyana/St Lucia night, and the Guyanese crew over there had asked me to come over and do my one-man thing where I sing those vintage Tradewinds songs, and tell some funny stories about Caribbean, and particularly Guyanese, culture.
It was some do, let me tell you. The Guyanese association over there (the President is Sherwin Griffith) did it up in style, including a lot of down-home Guyanese cuisine (pepperpot, metem, cook up, etc) and the fete was sold out. Among the dignitaries were the Prime Minister, Stephenson King; their Governor General, Governor Pearlette Louisy; our own Compton Bourne, President of the Caribbean Development Bank; Judge Kenneth Benjamin – I mean some real guns.
The entertainment included a comedy stint by Shivnauth Doodnauth and an Indian dance by Farah Yassem (both Guyanese) and then, leading into my session, some stirring jazz guitar music from St Lucia’s Boo Hinkson. Boo’s musical roots go back to the popular Trutones band, of which he was the leader, and we have been friends from the days when Tradewinds and Trutones would share the stage in big fetes in St Lucia. In the last song of my Sandals session, Boo came up and added his Godin guitar to ‘Blade O’ Grass,’ in what was a touching close to the evening – the Guyanese were singing the words; it was a lovely feeling.
Earlier in the evening, the St Lucian PM, a very affable gentleman, spoke spontaneously and warmly to the audience. He expressed his hope for better things in Guyana – he mentioned the prospects for oil, and the renewed emphasis on agriculture – and was very clear on his appreciation for the Guyanese migrants to his island. He put it very directly: “Please stay.” It was said with no quibble, and this was in a gathering where almost half of the crowd was St Lucian. When the kabaka in another country gives you that kind of ranking in a public forum, it’s a powerful statement. This is not the kind of testimonial you will see reported in the media, but I wanted to relay it here because it exemplifies the point I’m always making in my shows, and my songs, about the abilities of our people.
I’m not going to get into any long-winded dissertation, but let me just say that St Lucia is one more example of the positive presence that Guyanese make outside our homeland. My long-time St Lucian friend Angela Clarke, who runs two drug stores in the island, employs four pharmacists, all from Guyana. Indeed, Doodnauth and Yassem, who entertained at the Sandals function, are pharmacists. Lokesh Singh, a successful businessman, and our Honorary Consul over there, is a good ambassador for us. Ronald Ramjattan, formerly of Ricks and Sari here, heads up a large regional company, Baron Foods, headquartered in St Lucia and is a major player in that economy. Ronald, in fact, was the main man handling the Sandals Grande arrangements for the Guyana night. Tony Austin, former GAC pilot, is a very successful businessman over there, producing the country’s tourism magazine and tourism videos for the island. These are stellar people.
I could cite other examples. In the audience that night was a collection of Guyanese, some of them there for over 20 years and more, who are clear evidence of what we can become when doors are opened and opportunities arise. I’m not naïve. I understand that among the Guyanese who have moved to live abroad are some from what I call “the jackass brigade.” They exist. They are part of the reality, in that they have gone to St Lucia and other places, and made a bad name for GT (look: even the best mango tree will produce some half-ripe ones in every crop) but in the overall, to look out on that audience that night, and to hear the Prime Minister of St Lucia openly lauding our people, is a confirmation of our worth.
And what I saw in St Lucia, I see everywhere I go. It is there in spades in the large North American cities; in places like New York and Toronto and Fort Lauderdale. In those places we have risen to the top of our professions, done well in business, and many of our ordinary people have become valued citizens in those countries. I have seen it in Barbados. Don’t be confused by all the recent political melee; a prominent Barbadian told me two months ago: “If we removed the Guyanese from the work force here, particularly in construction, this island would be crippled.” We’re contributing.
Even in small societies such as the Cayman Islands, where I lived for 24 years, the Guyanese are proving themselves worthy citizens. Several are standouts in education; some are doctors; some are in banking, and this in a population of 60,000 people.
I played once in Edmonton and met a Guyanese who had driven 700 miles from northern Alberta to hear the band. He was working on the DEW Line, that North American radar defence, manning an isolated station all by himself. His Canadian boss, who was also at the dance, told me: “This guy is a rock. I wish I had more like him.” You understand where this guy was? In this remote wilderness, freezing cold, nothing around him for miles; but there was a Guyanese, all by himself, making an impression. In shows like the one in Edmonton, the rule is that once I play a song I don’t repeat it, but he had come to hear ‘Honeymooning Couple’ and I had already played it. I broke the rule for him; he had made me proud. Plus, the man had driven 700 miles, banna!
In my youth on the west coast, if Harry (I’m picking a name out of the air) was outstanding in some way – dedicated, accomplished, exemplary, tough – we had a saying: “Boy, Harry ain’t three cents, you know; he’s at least a shilling.”
These days, we can get overwhelmed by the litany of frailties you hear, on a daily basis, attributed to our people. Sometimes we get distracted by such things which seem to assign us the value of three cents; in fact, most of the time, we forget that we are at least a shilling. Going to St Lucia, two weekends ago, I was reminded of that.
