Special Issue on Trinidad:
The 2002 Santa Rosa Festival of the Caribs of Arima,
Trinidad, and the Launch of the First Nations Resource Centre
ALSO: Dark Shamans, a new book from Neil Whitehead
As I am myself based in Arima, Trinidad, and witnessed several key events held this August pertaining to the local Carib Community, I have decided to devote this issue to covering at five items. First, I will focus on this year's Santa Rosa Festival. Second, I will present some information on the visiting delegation of Guyanese Amerindians at the Santa Rosa Carib Centre in Arima. Third, I will discuss the very recent launch of the First Nations Resource Centre at the Santa Rosa Carib Centre. Fourth, I will be highlighting new information resources on the Santa Rosa Carib Community of Arima, Trinidad, along the way. Fifth, and not least, news of a new publication by Dr. Neil L. Whitehead, Dark Shamans: Kanaima and the Poetics of Violent Death.
Finally, as 14 October is Amerindian Heritage Day in Trinidad & Tobago, a national day of commemoration, I should have some news in the next issue of this newsletter.
Maximilian C. Forte, Ph.D.
Arima, Trinidad
September 2002
Thursday, August 1st:
Up at 3:30am: The sky is so saturated with thunder clouds, that it
remains pitch black even well past the hour when one would see the first
rays of the sun over the horizon. I know that I have to get to the top
of Calvary Hill latest by 5:45am, so I am out early, walking the dark but
not so desolate streets of Arima at 5:00am. Public workers sweep the streets,
the odd vagrant is asleep in the doorway of a bank or a drug store, and
the remainder of the night's drinkers are standing in the middle of the
street shouting, swaying as they try in vain to stand in one place, one
or two begging for a dollar in the hopes of getting enough for "one for
the road". I reach the Calvary taxi stand by Bhaggan's Drugs--normally
cars are parked here, but as it is still dark they just race past and stop
to pick up single travelers rather than waiting for the car to fill up
as they do during daylight hours. I have no difficulty in getting a taxi:
there is no rush of people going to this event, and for a few moments I
actually think that I must be the only one making this journey in the dark.
The driver lets me off at the somewhat dilapidated community centre on
Calvary, still smelling of warm human urine. A long flight of concrete
steps leads up the hill to Calvary Hill View Park, a patch of public land
possibly no larger than 50 metres by 25 metres, occupied by an unused water
tank and now also by a stage for the day's musicians. In fact, once a few
people have gathered, there is hardly any standing room. By 5:50am, residents
of Calvary Hill, many associated with the Carib Community through family
ties, begin their own trek up the hill. Calvary residents would not have
the event moved anywhere else: this is their event and their park. The
view is tremendous: one can easily see a third of Trinidad from up here,
the clouds breaking and creating a pink and blue light as the sun begins
to rise, little plumes of smoke rising from this and that yard in the distance
as people burn off bush or refuse. The odd rain cloud makes its way across
the plains showering only select areas. Some Calvary residents are in jackets
and sweaters, as if this were autumn in New York or London, complaining
that "the night cold".
01 August--officially a national public holiday: African Emancipation Day. In Arima, however, it is more than that.
A Carib Cannon
As has become the norm in recent years, the festival of Santa Rosa
begins on the first of the month, at least for the Carib Community, the
Arima Borough Council, and the residents of Calvary Hill in Arima. In past
years, perhaps as late as the mid-1990s, the festival traditionally began
on 15 August, with a special ceremony by the Caribs which involved the
blowing of a conch shell, or the firing of a rocket, to call members of
the community together to begin the many work duties and preparations for
the festival. Now, in conjunction with African Emancipation Day and Arima
Borough Day which are also celebrated on the same day, 01 August has become
a major item on Arima's cultural calendar, and both the conch shell and
the rockets of the past have been replaced with powerful simulated cannon
blasts (the cannon atop Calvary Hill can no longer be fired, hence a contingent
of Defense Force personnel install charges in the hillside which they detonate).
This was the third time that I witnessed this launch of the Santa Rosa
festival period. This year's event was covered quite well in the local
newspapers and on television.
Some things were different about this year's event, little things that would hardly seem worth mentioning were it not for their place in an overall map of a developing cultural practice. As I witnessed the event in the past, there would be only one cannon blast, at 6:00am sharp. This year there were two, and the second one nearly dropped me to the ground it was so powerful and as we stood only about 10 metres away where some of us were even covered with bits of dirt. The soldiers shout to the crowd: "hold your hands over your ears and leave your mouth open, or else the blast could blow your ear drums!" I neglect to do either one, so as to get the "fullest appreciation" of the event. This second blast took place at 6:15am. On television, Carib President Ricardo Bharath explained that it was once the tradition to have a small blast and then a big blast, and this has returned once again. Either way, come August at least, the Caribs certainly know how to make their presence felt, or at least heard, throughout Arima. I was told by at least one person that she heard the blasts as far as six miles away. Apparently, some of the rather wealthy Calvary residents in their villas and mansions only 40 metres down the southern slope beneath the park, complained of "all the noise". Few of the people I know actually care to do anything than laugh these complaints off, and one or two remind me that the complainers are on Carib land. Indeed, 320 acres of land on Calvary Hill were set aside for the Amerindians of the Mission of Arima by Governor Sir Ralph Woodford sometime between 1813 and 1828...and this land was not to be sold or transferred under any circumstances. Whether obvious or not, there is a tension here between dispossession and repossession, displacement and replacement, acted out at least in symbolic terms.
Everything appears to be in a state of translation as well, translation or perhaps substitution. The simulated blasts (gunpowder charges I believe) stand in for the cannon; the cannon stands in for the rockets of the past; the rockets stand in for the blast of the conch shell; and, the conch shell blast symbolises "the voice of Chief Hyarima calling his people together". This is not such a recent reinterpretation either--I have come across documents from the 1940s that also spoke of the cannon blast in this manner. Chief Hyarima is now almost a legendary figure from Arima's colonial past. The cannon itself was donated by Governor Sir Claude Hollis in the 1930s, specifically for this event.
There were far fewer people attending this event than I ever saw before, from hundreds down to a few dozen. There was no Orisha participation this year--indeed, the whole "African Emancipation" ethos was absent from the event. One of my favourite events was next, almost immediately after the blasts.
[for coverage of this year's 01 August events as described in the press, see: “Caribs Revive Ancient Ritual”, by Caldeo Sookram, The Express, 06 August, 2002]
[for an Internet slide show of this event as witnessed and photographed
in 1998, see The
Smoke Ceremony: An Internet Powerpoint Slide Show and an essay
on the Smoke Ceremony]
The Smoke Ceremony:
This was my third Smoke Ceremony for this event, and possibly my fifth
overall. This was somewhat different when compared with past occasions.
In the past it would take those responsible for the ritual a good half
hour to lay out all the ornamentation, platted palms, and multiple bowls,
burning vessels, and so forth. The area would be marked off with a short
fence made of sticks, forming a square around the centre of the ceremony.
Four large stones, painted white, marked the four corners of the ritual.
Men only were allowed into the square. Cristo Adonis, varyingly labeled
as medicine man, shaman, or piai man, would be dressed in a feather headdress,
a guaiuco (loincloth) and not much more.
The ritual, now led mostly by Ricardo Bharath, has been simplified somewhat. This time there was no dancing, no chanting, no "smudging". There was no elaborate indigenous wear as in the past. There was no demarcated square, and hence everyone could cram together in the small space for the ritual. Adonis was just one of a number of participants. In addition, Bharath has had a portable clay burning platform built (see the image at left). The entire set up was very rapid and simple--it seems to emphasise portability, flexibility, and adaptability in nature, as a ritual--it can be conducted anywhere, quickly, and to suit the occasion. Bharath engaged in a long prayer for the duration of the entire event, which must have lasted maybe 20 minutes. He began by speaking to the Great Spirit, "also known as God", asking him to “bless this fire”, and then he continued by speaking of the dual nature of fire, its use for survival, yet destructive; necessary, yet harmful. He would periodically make offerings in four different directions, raising the particular element up with one hand, whether corn or cassava. People were called upon to pray for their own special intentions, as in a Catholic mass. Bharath does not shun Christianity, even while admitting that it was the religion of the conquerors, he speaks of this having become part of the Caribs' own culture now. On the other hand, he speaks of the smoke ceremony as something that has always been conducted in people's homes, away from the eyes of the Church, in private and has only recently come out in public as the Caribs, like other groups in Trinidad, have embarked on a process of cultural revival, as he terms it. Then Bharath offered a prayer “for our leaders” and railed against “evil doers in our midst”. At one point he made blessings on the Carib Santa Rosa flag, which he called a symbol, and said there was no magic to it, as the flag was attached to a bamboo pole by one of the ladies and then the pole was hoisted upright by a male member.
The total number of Santa Rosa Carib Community (SRCC) members present was roughly 20. In comparison with the past, when I last saw them in public, all of the ladies wear a strict uniform now: identical yellow blouses and red skirts; the men wear closely similar red shirts and black pants. In addition, they have developed different uniforms for different occasions.
After the smoke ceremony, it was breakfast time. Breakfast consisted of "bake and buljol" (bake is a kind of flat bread, buljol is salted fish), bake and smoked herring, bake and tomato chokha, sada roti and melanjin (eggplant), coffee, tea, cocoa, juice. Children played in the smaller Amerindian-designed shed lower down the hill. Later they would get unsold bakes and beg for styrofoam cups, which they shared, to get water.
Around mid-morning, the Carib Community departed, for a meeting with the parish priest at the Santa Rosa RC Church, concerning this year's festivities, their organisation and preparation, and ways of avoiding the very public conflict between the Carib Community and the Church in 2001. Last year's happenings were reported in the press and on radio, and essentially revolved around Ricardo Bharath's protest over not being consulted by the then parish priest over the day's proceedings. As a result, Ricardo Bharath led members of his community in a smoke ceremony inside of the church building itself, while the rest of the congregation celebrated mass in the open air in the the adjacent Arima Boys RC School. Then the Carib Community conducted its own procession with the statue, which they brought back with them to the Carib Centre afterwards. Usually the statue of Santa Rosa, though claimed by the Carib Community, has been held inside the church.
[For some coverage of this year's meetings between the Carib Community
and the Catholic Church in Arima, see the following article in the Catholic
News: "Caribs:
All We Want is Respect", by Donna-Lisa Pena, The Catholic News, Sunday
18 August 2002]
The Santa Rosa Festival:
On Friday, 23 August, at 7:00am, there was a single cannon blast, then a short Church service and a limited SRCC procession around Lord Harris Square. Normally this is done when the 23rd of August, the official feast day for Saint Rose, does not fall on a weekend. The festival itself, though one can meet many parishioners who are not aware of the following fact, is a funerary event--it is meant to commemorate the death of Saint Rose, not her birth or any other ordinarily joyous occasion in her life. Symbolically too the ritual is structured as a funeral, with a wake the night before, a mass, then bearing her coffin to its resting ground, and food and drink after the "funeral".
The so-called Grand Procession and High Mass were held on Sunday, 25 August, and it was my third Santa Rosa Festival. The mass was held in the open air, for the second year in a row, at the Arima Boys RC School (established 1886), and was the first mass for this occasion celebrated by Father Christian Perreira as the new parish priest. The choir was far superior to anything I heard in the past, with reggae beats, electric instruments, and decent singing, as well as pan music. The Arima “Flag Man”, Hubert Diaz, an obviously proud nationalist who bears the flag in the most rigid and solemn demeanour, stood at attention, for the entire mass, at the side of the makeshift altar, flag blowing in the breeze. When there were prayers for special intentions, they had representatives of different parish groups offering prayers, including, for the first time that I saw it, prayers offered by “representatives of the Santa Rosa Carib Community”. One of the prayers was in Spanish (given by someone I did not recognise), and another was given by Neville Goveia from Guyana “in the Arawak language”. The procession was twice as long as any that I attended previously, going straight down to the market, turning west on Hollis Avenue and up Woodford Street. It easily took about 30 minutes, and was definitely at a much slower pace than when the former parish priest ran his marches, where I would have to sprint to get ahead of the procession to film.
The Queen of the Day was Shirley González, and the King of the Day was Bertie Calderon. In fact, both are part of the Calderon family that dominates Calvary Hill in Arima. The Queen of the Day is not to be confused with the office of Queen of the Caribs. The Queen of the Day is, in formal terms, responsible for leading the women in their duties for the Santa Rosa Festival, but has largely become an honorary position held by different people every year. The women have new uniforms, largely red, with embroidered white shirts, and rosettas. The procession was also organised in a different order from past years, the Church still leading, but now immediately followed by the Carib Community, which is then itself followed by members of the Arima Borough Council. In the past, the Church and Borough Council members always led ahead of the Caribs. This no doubt the product of recent negotiations and compromises over the procedures of the festival, the Caribs both giving and taking. If the SRCC “dressed the Church” on the previous Thursday, hardly anyone would have known as none of the events took place there. The Benediction in front of the monstrance was done in the park itself, also known as Lord Harris Square.
One last observation: this year's festivities seemed to receive far more media coverage than I noticed in the past. The day after the events shown above, all of the major dailies carried front page coverage, even if just a photograph "above the fold". Subsequently, at least three newspapers carried articles on the events as well. Amongst those that were also made available online, see the following:
"Flower of the Santa Rosa Festival", by Michelle Loubon, Sunday Guardian, 01 September, 2002
For more information on the way that the Carib Community feels that the Santa Rosa Festival should be conducted, see the following booklet which was originally drafted as a guide for new parish priests in Arima: "The Preserved Historical Traditions of Santa Rosa de Arima as Practiced by the Carib Community"
The ladies of the delegation focused on weaving using the moriche palm, for example, as well as cooking. Altogether the delegation stayed at the Carib Centre from early August until 16 September.
On one afternoon I spoke with Neville Goveia and listened to him speak of how the Government of Guyana allows all sorts of mining and logging companies to invade Amerindian lands. He compared this situation with that of Australian Aborigines in fact. From the international news media he had heard about events concerning Aborigines in Australia with the recent case where a high court denied the Miriuwung-Gajerong the right to native title over mineral and subsoil resources on the lands which they occupy. Neville also spoke at length of how Guyanese Amerindians are “the most downtrodden race in Guyana” and are “the poorest of the poor”, placed on reservations “like nothing better than pigs” and placed there and thus “forgotten”. Later, I met one of the women of the Guyanese group, Hyacinth Ruffino. I told her, “hey, that’s an Italian name”, and she smiled and answered, “so I have been told…and I have also been told that it is the name of a wine”. She lives in Georgetown. Apparently she has been here six times. I remarked, “you’re practically a member of the family”. She answered emphatically: “I am a member of the family, not ‘practically’, I am…and I think of myself as a member of the family”.
One can take these snippets of conversation as further notes on the subject of increased global aboriginal consciousness on the one hand, and, deepened affective ties between individuals in groups that may have been networked for instrumental reasons initially. Or, to put it more simply, aboriginal linkages are advancing in both political and personal terms.
As with the other events described above, this visit was also covered in the local media. For example, see:
and
"Reclaiming the Past", by Caldeo Sookram, The Express, Thursday, 05 September, 2002
“God blessed this land with human habitation 7,000 years ago….We lost our independence 500 years ago in the confrontation with Europe, Africa, Asia”. These words were spoken by Father Christian Perreira, Roman Catholic parish priest of Arima, during his blessing at the launch on Wednesday, 28 August, of the new First Nations Resource Centre, an annex of the Carib Centre.
This Resource Centre grew out of a recent call on the Carib Community, by Government, to create a special exhibition as part of national celebrations of Trinidad and Tobago's 40th Anniversary of Independence, with events spread out over 40 days from 16 August to 24 September. Carib president Ricardo Bharath decided that, after many years of plans and delays, this would be the opportune occasion to launch the Resource Centre, and did so after more than two weeks of intense work.
During his speech for the launch, Ricardo Bharath praised the Government for its assistance: “this Resource Centre could only have happened with the assistance of the Government”. Bharath stressed that the Resource Centre is intended to meet the needs of students, both local and foreign, and visitors, both local and foreign. As he put it in his speech: “when people come here, they want to see something...before we had nothing to show, we could only just talk”. Bharath noted that Government provided $19,000 TT in assistance for the exhibition turned Resource Centre. Speaking to an audience heavy with members and Ministers of the ruling People's National Movement (PNM), to which he himself belongs and served as an elected member of the Arima Borough Council for three terms, Bharath lambasted the opposition party critics of the Government’s almost $4 million TT expenditure on the 40th anniversary celebrations. “Anybody who can think that this is a waste of money", stated Bharath," cannot possibly have the interest of indigenous peoples at heart”. Reflecting on the aid of visiting delegations of Amerindians, Bharath said he saw, “the spirits of our ancestors in the awakening of the indigenous spirit across the globe”. He used the terms “revival” and “renewal”, placing more emphasis on the latter when he spoke it, in describing the current process through which Caribbean Amerindian communities like his own are undergoing. Bharath closed his speech simply by saying that the “Great Spirit is at work”.
The Minister for Community Development, Joanne Yuille Williams, spoke after Ricardo Bharath. She had also served as a Minister of Culture in a past PNM Government, when CARIFESTA V in 1992, and the Second Gathering of Indigenous Peoples in 1993, were hosted in Trinidad, both bringing Amerindian delegations from across the region. She recalled the First and Second Gatherings and how they did not result in the permanent structures she hoped to see. What was noteworthy about her speech was her promise of more funding, even a new building, to assist the Carib Community in making the Resource Centre more substantial and permanent. Regarding the current housing of the Resource Centre, Minister Williams commented, “this may not be the right structure for you”. Minister Williams emphasised: “an area we should highlight even more [is] our indigenous peoples”. She also commented, seemingly surprised, “I did not even recognize how important this [exhibition] would be….I thought that it would just be a display of handicraft items and art, I didn’t expect it to become a Resource Centre". The Minister also characterised the Government's assistance as, "reparation for a community that has lost a lot”. She also admitted to being impressed by the prayer in the Arawak language, given by Neville Goveia as a blessing for the launch, adding: “you have to hold on to that”. The Minister also recalled how “we all learned in school, we were always told, about the Caribs and the Arawaks, and how Arawaks were docile and peaceful, and Caribs were warlike”, noting that it was time to change these simplistic perceptions. The Member of Parliament for Arima, Penelope Beckles rose afterwards and called the Santa Rosa Carib Community, “a shining example of what can be done even by a community that has faced so many tribulations”.
One of the brighter features of the Resource Centre was the tremendous amount of work done by a young man, Elwin Johnson, responsible also for painting murals in the Resource Centre that are quite striking. Elwin spent every day of the week, through much of August, working on the Resource Centre, designing, painting, constructing, and arranging. Elwin is a Carnival masquerade designer, having worked with Funtasia and Poison in Trinidad, two of the leading mas' bands, as well as Mirage Productions in St. Vincent, and Excess Energy in St. Lucia. Elwin now sees himself as one of the newest members of the Carib family.
As with every other event described in the preceding sections, this too received attention in the national media. See for example the article by Michelle Loubon in the Sunday Guardian.
In addition, readers may also access an online copy of the brochure used for the launch of the First Nations Resource Centre, available at: http://www.kacike.org/srcc/Exhibition/index.html
A new book, by Professor Neil L. Whitehead in the Department of Anthropology
at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, has recently been published.
The title of this book is Dark Shamans: Kanaima and the Poetics of Violent
Death. This is not a book review, simply a book announcement. Ordering
information for this book can be found at Amazon.com, at:
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/0822329883/qid=1032445716/sr=2-1/ref=sr_2_1/
102-8223175-2035311
The following is simply a description of the book as provided by the publisher: "On the little-known and darker side of shamanism there exists an ancient form of sorcery called kanaimà, a practice still observed among the Amerindians of the highlands of Guyana, Venezuela, and Brazil that involves the ritual stalking, mutilation, lingering death, and consumption of human victims. At once a memoir of cultural encounter and an ethnographic and historical investigation, this book offers a sustained, intimate look at kanaimà, its practitioners, their victims, and the reasons they give for their actions. Neil L. Whitehead tells of his own introduction to kanaimà—which involved an attempt to kill him with poison—and he relates the personal testimonies of kanaimà shamans, their potential victims, and the victims’ families. He then goes on to discuss the historical emergence of kanaimà, describing how, in the face of successive colonizing modernities—missionaries, rubber gatherers, miners, and development agencies—the practice has become an assertion of native autonomy. His analysis explores the ways in which kanaimà mediates both national and international impacts on native peoples in the region and considers the significance of kanaimà for current accounts of shamanism and religious belief as well as theories of war and violence. Kanaimà appears here as part of the wider lexicon of rebellious terror and exotic horror—alongside the cannibal, vampire, and zombie—that haunts the western imagination. Dark Shamans broadens discussions of violence and of the representation of primitive savagery by recasting both in the light of current debates on modernity and globalization". Donald Pollock, of the State University of New York at Buffalo wrote: "An exceptionally fine ethnography of the kanaimà, Dark Shamans will fill a large gap. As an ethnography located in ethnohistory and processes of modernization, this book is an outstanding example of new anthropological work at the leading edge of the discipline". In addition, Norman Whitten of the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign, commented: "Ethnographer Neil L. Whitehead enters this realm of reality and mythology, of story telling and first-hand experience, by accident, and his opening tale sustains the horror-filled storytelling power characteristic of such authors as Bram Stoker to Stephen King. As such, the Kanaimà, long known to explorers, poets, and ordinary people of northeastern South America, take their place in the history of modernity along with Dracula, Frankenstein, or the Wolf Man".
RELEVANT SITES:
Readers who wish to respond to, comment, or criticise any of the items contained in this newsletter, are encouraged to send e-mail to the address below. Please indicate specifically what you are responding to and whether or not you wish to have your e-mail message appear in the next issue of the newsletter. Also, please indicate whether or not you wish your e-mail to appear with your name or as "anonymous".
CAC Newsletter Editor:
Maximilian C. Forte, Ph.D.
Caribbean Amerindian Centrelink
Copyright: 2002
mcforte@centrelink.org