Kankie, Bramha Kumaris, Emancipation

The old rasta man jumped on the fender at the back of an old red canter truck and asked me whether I wanted a lift.  I laughed and said no. I was walking in to the National Park. Last time I had been in the park for August 1st, Emancipation,  was 2009.

The old canter truck parked and I reached walking about the same time. Two men came out. One in all over white, including a small headwear. Long locks almost down to his ankle. His partner in another style of 'African' outfit. The man was watching in the car mirrors as he walked, and fixing his hat.. I envied the white, if I dressed like that it would get nasty quick quick.

Linden on my mind. I had been in one or two protests.

This week, I am doing a couple of things, I am trying to head to places to find some grounding and connection with those who are not thinking like me. I hope to go to the Jehovah Witness convention as well to put  closure to the end of a friendship, even as I remember other connections with other Jehovah Witnesses.

Linden is nowhere here. People are in 'African' clothes. Albert Street has a more crowded ticket booth.

I go in. I see a young photographer I know - I had met him at a GYSM event. I ask him how is business and why he not using the natural backgrounds. He said that people want his picture background. He said things okay, though few booths. I said maybe people thinking of Linden. He said no no.

I see the Brusters Ice Cream mobile van. I forget Linden. I join the line and wait. Another woman comes up and hugs me up. We see the Presidential vehicles.. I wonder if they are going in or out. . The Lemon Sherbet is good.

I start walking. I buy my first Kankie. I see the booths. The exhibition booths are empty. They look the same as the ones I had seen in 2009. The US Embassy has a booth - with the Civil Rights heroes - they recognise amongst others - Beyonce Knowles, Martin Luther King Oprah Winfrey, Muhammed Alli. I think of Audre Lorde and James Baldwin and Malcolm X and others who I have been inspired by.

The Ministry of Culture booth has something about Uganda, and Phillip Moore.

There was a booth from the Bramha Kumaris. This struck me - it was probably the only 'religious' booth there. Some of the people were dressed in white, some in 'African' clothes. The was a lady in African clothes buying some of the CDs. I did not buy any but plan to go check them out later.

I see the presidential guard. and police. I felt frozen - intense dislike.
People were not bothering.

I saw Mr Edghill in his dashiki and thought of his 'Lindeners are sheep without shepherds comment Parliament. I could not see President lamotar. I saw a man in panama hat, and brown tee shirt.. walking fast. Nobody was bothering with them .. well not that I could see anyways.

I come across the first booth with methem. The owner had a pot of conkie/kankie steaming.  I ask her if she has beef in the methem. She says no no.. she does not eat beef. Her mother was half Indian she says, and was Hindu. So she does not eat beef or pork. So I ask her.. what about you, are you still Hindu. She says.. quietly. Her husband is Christian - so she has to do the rituals privately because he does not understand.  I keep thinking of all the Africans and others who were told that their religions were wrong.. and that the practices were to be stopped because they were not Christian. I buy the methem.. with fry fish though. my vegetarian aspirations thrown aside.

Other three card and chic chic boards booths , others selling things. Another booth with Nigerian and African food - they also selling curry and roti.

I see a booth with books. Ms Fraser. She has black jacobins - $2500, and other writers from Africa and the USA. It is amazing. She says that her table was full, and that half has been sold. She does not come out to sell often she says. She does not have a store.

There were no booths that I could see selling DVDs.

My friend from Linden who lives in GT is coming. She fell asleep, so she is late. She had texted me earlier.. she also wanted kankie. It seems stupid and mundane, to reduce slavery and the freedom from slavery to kankie and methem.

As I walk on the tarmac, I trip over the bottles, boxes, cups which people have emancipated themselves from. I am more angry at them for the litter, than for not protesting Linden.


The Sixties and Texas Ohio
I met a man who used to work in Linden and was part of the Union. We started talking about Linden. He said that the Ramotar is getting bad advice, that he still does not understand the issue. He tells me that Rohee and Edghill used to be in jail. He said Mr Edghill was called Anthony Cummings. I think another man is being sued for saying this.. but.. well. The man tells me that he lived in Linden during the sixties and he witnessed the atrocities and the horrors. He said that what people do not know, that is that many black people who lived through that time vowed never again - that the evil happened and that would be it.

He told me about the steam turbine that was sold to Texas Ohio - and scrapped. The famous steam turbine that apparently generated electricity at lower costs than the current technology. Texas Ohio was owned by Indians apparently and they did not know what they were doing. The man said Sam Hinds will know about that. I did not ask the man what he thought about the celebration. On the stage, Ras Leon Saul was asking the crowd to shout Freedom and so on. He talked about the Linden Martyrs and the protests and how it would be good if the sugar workers did the same thing. I did not ask him whether these celebrations should continue.

I left - the crowd outside the Brusters Mobile was too much - I wanted more sherbet.

I walked down Thomas Lands. I hear a woman shout - tell dat lil bai I gun smash he face in. Is where he walking going? The woman was pulling up her zip.. like she was peeing behind a car.

I see de lil bai. I rush up and I tell her, no no.. dont beat him. You aint glad you got him. She look at me lil funny. I want to start my slavery and violence lecture. She take the balloon and knock him on his head. I hold the balloon and say.. no.. tell him what you friken. I tell the lil bai not to walk away because somebody might kerry he away.

Another lady calls out to me.. she has a baby in her arms. Another woman behind her with another baby. The woman asks me.. what happen to K? K. the lady and I had referred to child protection - a 17 year old guy who had been raped and who kept running away and trying to get justice. The woman told me her baby was now coming out for the first time. The baby was premature.. born less than a pound. The baby spent one and a half month in the incubator.

The other woman said her baby was okay but sleepy.

Another woman calls out to me. She pushing her baby in a stroller. I tease her about the old people and dew and the baby head not cover in the night.

Four black women. Mothers. Descendants of women who had their children - sometimes from rape - and who had children taken away from them to be sold. Related to other women around the world whose children have been killed, sold, trafficked into slavery, maimed, oppressed.

My belly full with kankie and methem and mauby. My mind lil mixed up.

I have no desire to cuss them for bringing their children to the park. I do not know if they would take their children to a protest for justice for Ron Somerset, Ivan Lewis or Shemroy Bouyea. I do not know whether I have any moral authority to tell them what they should do or not do.