Dear Editor,
Patriotic Guyanese roots people are forewarned: the Americans are coming. Nowadays they do not have to be physically present, they just export their holidays. Or, more accurately, the natives fall over themselves to embrace the latest chic in delirious prostrations before the altar of cultural self-subjugation.
Just last month, there was macabre local homage to Halloween. Those who once disparaged obeah and ouija boards, now dress either themselves or their children as devils for public display and ridicule. Real life daytime witches, ogres (and oglers and gropers, too) get to cavort in unabashed abandonment for a full twenty-four hours in this great American celebration of the diabolical and darkness. Watch out: more tricksters and treats are soon coming to the neighbourhood; sounds political in origin and outlook to me.
In view of the volume of tricksters in this land, Halloween could very well end up being an around the year escapade.
As if the American invasion through Halloween is not enough, just up the road on the holiday calendar awaits the granddaddy of them all. That would be Thanksgiving. Move over curry and rice and cook-up rice; it is the long hour of turkeys and trimmings; such is the plasticine texture of the local cultural flora. I am contented with the day’s NFL fare: the scintillating ballet of managed violence and aged officials cantering around in zebra outfits. I wonder how that meat tastes.
I also wonder about Guyanese pride and self-esteem. Surely, there has to be things in this society that can be reached for and coddled with the same insistent determination. Surely, there must be some self-respect to treasure what is one’s own heritage and to let other people’s heirlooms remain their own. Think of this: if a community resident converts his home to a nudist colony, do the neighbours rush to follow?
Recently, I repeatedly came across some more of the bizarre wind sweeping parts of this copycat nation. The children want to talk about Trump and Clinton. Those who previously claimed to “have no interest in politics” are suddenly and inexplicably enamoured of two of the least commendable candidates grovelling and rolling in the mud towards the White House.
They were not interested in the domestic things that impinge severely on their own existence, but on the TV attractions of two foreign political pugilists from the lightweight division. I think that they harboured the erroneous belief that election day in America might be declared a school holiday here in Guyana, hence the interest. It might also be considered hip or cool.
Believe it or not, there is one other great American day seized; this one is at the heights and on the sly. It is called President’s Day over there. Here it is president’s time, and it is prime time, all the time. Forget about one day in February and log cabins out in the wastelands of nowhere. Simply look at that golden political enclave along the East Coast with its gadgetry, security, and paucity of integrity. But that is not all, as president’s day here is a lifetime of feasting on the rich gravy that is the plasma of a people. It is called gratuity and annuity for services rendered and self-awarded. Every day is a holiday; and it is so even when baby does not come home.
All of these now entrenched adoptions and adaptations of Americana are representative of many a denunciatory tale. It is that Guyanese are comfortable to crash other people’s sport, and imbibe rather shamelessly of foreign heritages, as if such were their birthright. In many circles, this slavish devotion is considered fashionable. It is not fashionable, however, to celebrate with the same zest the almost forgotten splendour of one day, as in Martin Luther King Day. Very few aspire to such dreams on any given day; or pursue equity and harmony, like he exemplified.
No, it is pass the bottle, and turn up the music; both are free. Another drumstick and some cranberry sauce would be nice, too. Meanwhile, the masks of a shallow, forced, and artificial existence are revealed in glaring repulsive nakedness.
Editor, here is the core of my thinking: Guyana has almost twice the number of holidays as the United States. And yet citizens revel in claiming and living, through prescriptive rights, some additional days belonging to the people up north. This has to be the acme of insecurity and indicative of a palpable inbred inferiority. Given this predilection, why not a holiday for a monthly running of the bulls through the length and breadth of the city? It should solve traffic woes, even if only temporarily.
Yours faithfully,
GHK Lall
