












 |
The Relationship of the
Caribs of Arima with the Caribs of Dominica, 1992-1997
Maximilian C. Forte, 1999, 2001, 2006
Upon entering the Santa Rosa Carib Community Centre one is faced
with walls and a small stage adorned with various Amerindian
artifacts. Some of these pertain to Trinidad's Caribs. Others,
however, serve as traces of encounters and exchanges between the
Arima Caribs and their counterparts in the Carib Territory of
Dominica. While modern day relations go as far back as 1968, the
most important linkages and connections were forged in an
intense five year period, from 1992 to 1997.
Those who know Dominica's Carib Territory will be familiar with
the name of one of the six key hamlets, that being Salybia.
Oddly enough, on the northeast coast of Trinidad, a region that
looks like Dominica's Carib zone, there is a town that is called
Salibia. According to various sources, this town in Trinidad was
the site of a settlement of Dominican or Vincentian Caribs
established toward the end of the 1700s by the last Spanish
governor of Trinidad, José María Chacón. According to Arie
Boomert, an archaeologist, in his 1982 article in the
Trinidad Naturalist (37-38): “Throughout the eighteenth and
nineteenth centuries Amerindian groups from the mainland and
Lesser Antilles went to live in Trinidad, with or without
consent of the government. In 1786 Governor Chacón granted some
land to a group of Kalinago (Island Carib) from St. Vincent.
They settled in the Salibia area of north east Trinidad. Most of
them returned home in 1795 but other island Caribs came to
Trinidad after a volcano eruption had destroyed their
settlements in St. Vincent in the early nineteenth century. They
were granted land near the Arima mission”. Also, according to
Marie Therese Rétout, these were Black Caribs and they stayed in
Salibia until 1795.
SALIBIA, NORTH EAST TRINIDAD
At left: looking in towards Salibia from the beach. At
right: a view of the Atlantic from the beach of Salibia. (Photos © 1999, Maximilian C.
Forte. All rights reserved)
More recently, when speaking
to the daughter of the late Queen Edith Martinez, Norma
Stephens, she showed me a photograph of one of Dominica's Carib
chiefs (Mas Clem Frederick) and told me that he had visited
Trinidad on a number of occasions, back in the 1960s, before
there was any formally organized and registered "Santa Rosa
Carib Community." According to the daughter of the late Queen
Edith Martinez, he had developed a simple friendship with her
mother and even toyed with the idea of purchasing land in
Trinidad on which to settle. When I visited the Dominica Carib
Territory in September of 1998, I accidentally ran into Mas Clem
and told him that I had seen his photo in Trinidad. He confirmed
that he had been there and had attended the Santa Rosa Festival
when Edith Martinez was Queen. This was a personal relationship,
not one deliberately fostered between organizations. It is also
one of those older stories that many would not pay attention to
and it risks passing into oblivion. Indeed, very few who know
either Mas Clem in Dominica or the late Queen in Trinidad, know
of this friendship.
However, it is really with the advent of the Santa Rosa Carib
Community's membership in the Caribbean Organization of
Indigenous People (in 1992) that relations became more
formalized and regularized. The impetus toward greater and more
formal contact got underway in November of 1991, when Caribs
from across the Caribbean met, along with hundred of Amerindian
organizations from across the Americas, in Ottawa, Canada, for a
congress hosted by the Assembly of First Nations of Canada, and
sponsored in part by the World Council of Indigenous Peoples.
The Carib President, Ricardo Bharath, and the Youth
Representative, Suzan Campo, traveled to Ottawa and met with
their Dominica Carib counterparts, Chief Irvince Auguiste and
Sylvanie Burton. Next came CARIFESTA in 1992, 1995, and 2006,
all three held in Trinidad, which featured delegations of
Amerindians from across the Caribbean being hosted in Arima.
These proved to be momentous events for the Carib Community in
Arima. More visits from Dominica Caribs came in 1993, 1996 and
1997. The Youth Representative herself spent a year in
Saskatchewan, Canada, studying on a scholarship at a Federated
Indian College along with other Caribbean Amerindian scholarship
recipients, in the 1992-1993 academic year, among whom were
students from Dominica. This was a special scholarship, coming
at the time of the Columbian Quincentenary. The Youth
Representative also visited the Dominica Carib Territory.
The artifacts in the Carib Centre thus represent traces of
relationships. Memories by the key participants called up names
of Dominica Caribs. Events, their brochures and programs, and
newspaper coverage further filled in the picture. All of these
provided me with the necessary leads to be able to follow up
sources in both Ottawa and Dominica, both of which I did in June
and September of 1998 respectively in order to make my
ethnographic research both more historical (investigating
relationships back in time), more personal (meeting people who
knew Trinidad Caribs or had been to Arima), and more multi-sited
(following connections and processes through space).
TRACES OF DOMINICA'S CARIBS IN THE SANTA
ROSA CARIB COMMUNITY CENTRE
At left: a miniature canoe brought as a gift by a Dominica
Carib delegation, and installed in an Amerindian altar
within the Carib Centre. Centre: a carved calabash from the
Dominica Caribs. At right: baskets woven by Dominica Caribs
during a cultural exchange visit when they shared their
weaving skills with members of the Arima Carib community.
While in Dominica I met with
several Caribs, seeking out those who I knew for a fact had been
to Trinidad (armed in part with a list of names, addresses and
phone numbers provided by the Carib President, Ricardo Bharath,
who also made telephone calls in advance of my departure). After
making new contacts, I was able to piece together a conservative
estimate of how many individual Dominica Caribs had been to
Trinidad and how many organized visits there had been. It seems
that no less than 37 individuals had visited Trinidad on no less
than 10 distinct occasions between 1992 and 1997. This is a
remarkable figure, especially when we consider that the active
core of the Arima Carib Community itself consists of no more
than 30 individuals.
The Dominica Caribs' delegations included specialists in dance,
weaving and painting, not to mention the crew from the Gli-Gli
Carib Canoe that visited in May of 1997. A five-member team of
Dominica Caribs, funded by the British Development Division and
the Caribbean Association of Local Government Authorities, spent
two weeks in Arima in October of 1997. The interests of this
group included canoe making, weaving, women, and politics.
What I discovered in Dominica is that those who had visited
Trinidad still had very strong memories of all those they met
there in the Carib Community. Despite the passage of six years,
in some cases, they could easily recall names of all the people
I have been working with in Trinidad, even their children's
names, even the President's non-Carib driver. Moreover, they
seemed to have exceptionally strong emotional attachments to the
people they met in Trinidad. Some claimed to have uncontrolled
urges to pick up the phone, regardless of long distance costs
(exorbitant as they are in the region), just to hear the voices
of their friends in Trinidad. I was frankly quite overwhelmed by
the outpouring of emotion that came out in interviews with my
five key informants in Dominica. I was also fascinated by their
detailed knowledge of even intimate events and issues internal
to the Arima Carib Community. It was, in fact, in Dominica that
I first encountered the strong view that the two communities
should merge, that intermarriage should be promoted, and that
population exchange should occur. There was, of course, the
corresponding resentment against the visa restrictions put in
place by Caribbean states, seen as especially unfair to the
region's indigenous inhabitants who have had at least a 5,000
year history of inter-island movement and contact.
Perhaps one of the strongest expressions of
affection came for former Dominica Carib Chief, Irvince Auguiste.
In his view, the Arima Caribs are a source of hope and
inspiration, given that they live as scattered individuals in a
large urban environment (Arima is in fact almost twice the size
of Roseau), without any lands of their own, and yet are able to
preserve and maintain traditions some of which, he said, no
longer exist in Dominica. Given all this, he felt that if
Amerindian cultural traditions can continue in Arima, then,
there is every reason to feel encouraged that they will continue
in Dominica. There were, I must add, differing perceptions among
those who had been to Trinidad of who had to benefit the most
from cultural exchange, with those feeling that Trinidad's
Caribs had more to learn from the Dominica Caribs outnumbering
those who felt that either the reverse was true or that they had
an equal amount to learn from each other. There is much more to
be added here, but I must reserve it for elsewhere.
The focus on emotion here is greatly important, especially as I
did not go to Dominica expecting this to be a central phenomenon
in the relationship. My primary interests concerned strategic
alliance building, racial consciousness, and political
pragmatism as bases of this relationship. While all of these
hold some limited merit, they do not account for the high level
of personal sympathy that was expressed, in my view. The depth
and extent of sharing and of mutual knowledge led me to the
conclusion that it is not possible to properly study the Caribs
of Trinidad without any reference to the Caribs of Dominica.
Back in the Carib Centre, one sees photographs of Chief Irvince
Auguiste visiting in Arima; engraved calabashes from Dominica;
baskets from Dominica, and their local replicas made as a result
of classes held by one of the Dominica Carib visitors in Arima;
small replicas of canoes, and a number of other items. To the
anthropologist these are useful traces of behaviour, and are of
interest in seeing how they have become incorporated either into
religious ceremonies, or serving as a symbolic and artifactual
reservoir surrounding members whenever they meet in the Carib
Centre, encasing them in an Amerindian identity quite literally.
To the Arima Caribs themselves, they are potent reminders of
long-lost/new-found friendships, and of the enduring modern day
distance that threatens to render their relationship a mere
passage in history.
References:
Boomert, Arie. 1982. “Our Amerindian Heritage.” Trinidad
Naturalist. 4 (4) Jul-Aug: 26-38, 60.
Rétout, Sr. Marie Thérèse, O.P. 1976. Parish Beat. Port
of Spain, Trinidad: Inprint Caribbean Ltd.
|