One of Guyana’s most accomplished sons, Vibert Cambridge, a Professor at the University of Ohio, is one of those Georgetown people with whom I go way back. Our relationship started when the Tradewinds had their We Place nightclub in Toronto and Vibert was one of our regulars; we became even closer in later years when Vibert was doing all his cultural development work in the homeland. On one of the Tradewinds’ visits here, he contacted me about doing a song for the upcoming Emancipation celebrations being staged by the Guyana Commemoration Commission, and to cut a long story short I suggested a full-fledged musical for such a topic. Vibert’s eyes opened wide, but he gave me an immediate “yes.” So was born the musical RAISE UP, which was staged here, almost a year later, directed by Ron Robinson, at the Cultural Centre.
The play went on to performances in the USA and in Grand Cayman, and firmed up the bond between us and which continued during the time I lived in Grand Cayman (Vibert visited once and wrote a lovely column about his trip) and continues to this day. I’ve mentioned before how SO IT GO columns come from a variety of sources and this one comes from a recent shout from Dr. Cambridge (I often refer to him as “Vibe” which is pertinent to the man) asking that I reflect on my time in Guyana in the 10 years since my return. I have great respect for this gentleman and the suggestion is in keeping with Vibert’s incisive way of finding an interesting angle to come at a subject.
One of the most satisfying contributions for me since my return to live here certainly has to do with the various musical performances with the three local musicians, Oliver Basdeo, James Jacobs, and Colin Perreira (Dave Martins and Friends) in a range of venues and it has been a particular pleasure to do this range of shows in the country areas – Anna Regina, Linden, Berbice, etc. Those “outside Georgetown” appearances were a feature of the years when the late Freddie Abdool was Tradewinds’ representative here and he had us performing in places visiting bands never went to – Suddie, s Kwakanis, Bartica, New Amsterdam, Linden, LBI, and Corriverton. Bands visiting Guyana would generally come here and be seen in Georgetown, or sometimes New Amsterdam, but never in places such as Kwakani and Corriverton and Suddie. When you told a Trini or Bajan friend you had just performed in Bartica, you would often get the “Where is that?” response.
Extending the outreach on my return even further was the invitation from UG Viceroy Ivelaw Griffith for me to be the Artist in Residence at the University for a year. In his time, Dr. Griffith brought many innovations to UG and I saw, in this programme with its out-of-town events, a continuance of what Tradewinds had been doing previously with Freddie Abdool. It took me back to the performance in the 1970s, at Anna Regina on Cayman Sankar’s property; the ferryboat bringing our musical equipment from Parika had broken down so that the instruments did not arrive at the hall until well after 9pm, but the crowd had sat there, some of them from as early as 7pm, waiting patiently (someone had a small radio playing music). Usually a band will finish playing in Guyana around midnight; in Anna Regina, that’s when we started; nobody had left. I remember flying back to Georgetown the next morning, and the small plane almost hitting a tractor parked at the side of the runway (the stall-warning light came on), but I also remember that patient Essequibo crowd from the night before, women sitting there, arms folded, waiting. Living in Guyana again, I hold those memories dear; when we played last year in Anna Regina, it took me back.
Bartica, too, one of the stops on a Tradewinds visit, was a singular experience. Bartica folks, some of them pork-knockers, are music fanatics; long band breaks are frowned upon, and I remember an instance when we were doing a double-entendre song of mine, about “soft banana,” and a guy from the audience, leaped up on the stage, unzipped his trousers, proudly displaying his possession, and leaned into the microphone asking me, “You call that soft banana?” That’s Bartica for you. As we say in Guyana, “Raw renk.” If that’s not your speed, stay home.
I have mentioned this before, but it bears repeating, how satisfying it is for me to do this range of appearances, at events both in Georgetown and in places far removed, and to feel the connection with audiences fostered by these songs I’ve written. It generates an uplift I cannot begin to describe. I recall a Tradewinds night in Corriverton (Corriverton? Visiting bands don’t go there, buddy.), big crowd and in the middle of a set the rain came down but very few people took cover. Most of them seemed to find some sort of pleasure in the experience, as did a crowd once at Thirst Park in town where the folks dancing, including then PM Sam Hinds, stayed in place; the security people secured an umbrella, one of them holding it over the PM as he partied.
Another uplift has come from these weekly SO IT GO columns in Stabroek News. I began them shortly after my return to live here, not sure how I would continue to find topics, week after week, but it has been a breeze. A big part of the enjoyment is to be stopped, walking in town, or in a business place, by someone quoting something from a recent column, or mentioning something I omitted. It’s worth mentioning that in the decade I have been doing the column, I cannot recall SN editor Anand Persaud, or the sub-editor, calling me to suggest I should delete a comment from a particular column. Part of that could be from my mother’s prudent upbringing, but a part of it also speaks to the open mind of the folks at the newspaper, and I am grateful for that.
Also, while I have mentioned this previously, my return to live here has been generally joyful for me, and an important ingredient in that process has been the embrace which has come to me from ordinary citizens in ordinary circumstances around the country. Literally hardly a week goes by without my hearing or reading some mention of it, sometimes a conversation, sometimes a shout from a passing cyclist, or a person driving by yelling “Uncle Dave.” To all of those, whoever you are, I appreciate it. I truly do. Guyana has more than its share of temporary travail, and often, although you may not realise it, you are pulling me through some irritation (the majority of 65 is 34, for instance) so please don’t hesitate. You are not, as one lady apologised, “bothering” me. You have helped make me glad I came back here to live.
