Commentary
Dara Healy
Culture matters
DARA AND HALY
Culture makes us sustainable. It gives us hope. It reminds us that we are not alone, that we are part of a larger place in life… Culture has the power to positively change the lives of thousands of people in the Caribbean, build lasting bridges and overcome language barriers…
Saadia Sanchez-Vegas, Director and Representative, UNESCO Group Office, Caribbean
THE MONTH of November is like few others on the TT calendar. It is a period that brings together our diverse culture and heritage through music, song and community festivals across the country. However, as the month began, I continued my thoughts on the fragility of our nation, our complexity, and the barriers our shared cultures still have to overcome.
This week, the festival of Diwali was filled with beautiful sunshine, sprinkles of rain and, at night, flickering dejas. As children, it was common for us to celebrate with the Hindu community, either by lighting up the house or going to see amazing bamboo and deya creations in the evening. And, of course, the delicious curries and desserts that would magically appear.
Beyond the traditional message of light over darkness, Diwali should also raise questions about what steps we have taken to be truly comfortable with one another. How many non-East Indian educators are familiar with aspects of Ramayan, Hindu rituals, or popular bhajans? Should they be?
On radio stations, spicy chutney songs share rotation with calypsos like Ganges and the Nile, which aim to remind us that we have more in common than we know. In the meantime, parang and traditional Christmas music is already playing on the airwaves and in public spaces.
Parang is such joyous music, another example of how our indigenous, Spanish and African cultures combined to create an entirely new form of expression that we now claim as entirely born in TT.
It’s a strange kind of relief to see seasonal decorations and hear the music, the promise of a return to normalcy. These familiar rituals are part of the anticipation we feel as 2021 draws to a close; the relief of the holiday season when we visit family and friends and put aside for a while crime and the increasing number of people dying from Covid19.
But in these first days of November, the sun, well it’s different. The heat is perhaps the signal for the arrival of soca music, now more persistent. It’s as if the music is reminding the authorities that decisions need to be made about the national festival. Carnival activities would move into second gear now. In remote villages and communities, traditional carnival masqueraders would prepare their materials and perform the necessary rituals. Rehearsals for major shows would begin if not for the restrictions of a health pandemic and a state of emergency.
During another November more than 50 years ago, the state of emergency imposed due to the Black Power Revolution ended. That struggle may have been led by people of African heritage, but for a long time the movement was a unifying and empowering force. As tens of thousands marched into the sugar belt earlier that year, they did so behind a banner proclaiming: “Indians and Africans unite now.”
In all communities, NJAC speakers who shared their teachings on revolutionary theory or fundamental freedoms represented our two main ethnicities. In this period, music also focused on the people and the need to address the corruption and mismanagement at the root of persistent poverty and inequality.
At TT, the resilience of our culture lies in the ability to break down barriers by better understanding the other person’s perspective.
So, in case you weren’t sure, the answer to my question about whether non-East Indian educators should know at least one folk bhajan is yes.
November is also celebrated as African History Month in TT, critical at a time when the Black Lives Matter movement has forced a global refocus on racism and injustice. Our educators and elected leaders need to know this too, just as they need to understand why indigenous peoples perform water rituals or the meaning of the colors of the Ifa/Orisa flags.
The month of November offers us an opening, a portal into possibility. I am ready to face it, ready to enter into what life will have next. Come, let’s embrace this diverse, complex, yet potentially healing culture of ours and overcome those barriers – together.
Dara E Healy is a performance artist and founder of the Indigenous Creative Arts Network – ICAN
