Tuesday, June 17, 2025 at 3:36 PM

That was a lament in Psalms 137, where the Israelites were praying for their capture and exile to end, in that strange land, Babylon, and to return home. Like in most chapters in the books of Psalms and Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs, the poetry is among the best ever written, anywhere and by anyone. That Old Testament is full of surprises. It is such a pity we don’t know who the writers were; they would probably win the Nobel Prize for such beautiful artistry, in our time. I know, they claim it was Solomon and David; but no, these lyrics were written by anonymous scribes. The Melodians made this song popular in the Caribbean when they recorded a reggae version in 1970.

Kotobroot and tablayta and panaades, tamaales, konks flitaz (conch fritters), jam roll, coconut crust, cassava pudding, stretch-mi-guts, dukunu, boil up, sehreh, and all that good stuff that will kill you if you eat too much, are some of the pleasures in life that we left behind when we went into our own self-imposed exile. Corned fish and bokotora, and pikayri (peccary) and hamadili (armadillo), which some considered rats in the First World, but are delicacies for us, are unavailable in a more “civilized” society.

I believe that when some of us look back at that choice to leave the homeland, and I mean that universally, we have this deep regret, and realize that it was a sacrifice to give up everything you were accustomed to, for the unfamiliar, the alien. Most of us also adjusted to this sudden change and carried on with life and living. Some of us even forgot where we came from; but I believe the majority of us could still relate to the lament of the Jews, over 2500 years ago. They had no choice in the matter, but we willingly made that choice.

Nowadays, most of us live in countries that don’t want us anymore. We have outlived our welcome and our usefulness to them. We are becoming replaceable because of technological advancements that can do the job better and cheaper. I don’t believe that anyone can call living in a strange land, home. I believe that home is where you were born, where that earth and air and fire and blood are inside you, forever.

In America, under the TACO regime, where before we have never felt like intruders but part of the American experience, all those sentiments have now been shattered by the vitriolic rhetoric and attacks on immigrants. As I’ve said before, the ones who scream the loudest are also immigrants, or children of immigrants. How quickly they forget.

For those exiles who are now scared or tired of the uncertainty of our times in Babylon and who want to return to Zion (I use Zion metaphorically, of course), that Zion doesn’t exist anymore, especially in the case of the Jewel. With one of the fastest, if not the fastest demographic changes in any nation on earth, in a span of less than two generations, we will be strangers in our own land. If you are one who travels back and forth regularly, you have already adjusted to those changes; but if you are returning home for the first time after, let’s say, 30-40 years, you are in for a shock, especially a culture shock.

You will quickly realize that Belize isn’t your home anymore. That the culture you left behind is stronger in your adopted country, than it is in Belize. That the landmarks and businesses and customs have lost their flavor to Central America; the Caribbean in us has almost disappeared. That the Chinese and Indians have the monopolies on everything, even the bread we eat. That prices are sky high because of foreigners buying up our lands, and tourism encouraging greed and graft and crime. That the politicians are being bought and sold by the highest bidder; well, that one is not new; it has become extreme, but not new.

I realize that progress is always on the march, is necessary; but what is happening in Belize is not progress, it is the realignment of an almost unrecognizable society. And the thing is, it is being done in such a haphazard manner that you cannot pin the blame on anyone in particular. As Colin Hyde mentioned in his latest column, our genesis began with bad people, pirates. Our Jewel today is being run by, ruled by, engineered by, modern-day pirates. And all we can do is reminisce; we have given our hearts away. The revolution was televised, and now we are out of gas. I’m talking about the exiles, don’t want to be misunderstood. Wat a ting!

“By the rivers of Babylon, where we sat down. And there we wept, when we remembered Zion.”

Glen