Things were so hectic in the old capital the last couple weeks, what with the disappearance of seven men at sea and the alarming confrontation between the two major parties on Freetown Road, that I did not give my respects to the Garifuna people for this year’s Settlement Day celebrations. I ask the forgiveness and indulgence of my Garifuna brothers and sisters.
Each year I feel I learn more about the Garifuna people, not necessarily in an academic sense, but certainly in a spiritual one. It seems to me that at times the Creole and the Carib people share deep feelings for each other, but, of course, there is often the reality of competition between the two peoples which can become resentful. Such is life.
In the remainder of this column, I will use the Giao and Garifuna terms to refer to the two peoples. My sense is that the Garinagu sometimes use the Giao term in a derogatory way to refer to the Creole people. Perhaps I am naïve, but I am not bothered by the “Giao” designation. For sure I think it is symmetrical with the Garifuna concept. It used to be Creole and Carib. So now it’s Giao and Garifuna. Two African peoples.
The Giao people have had difficulty understanding themselves because things became confused between the African Giao and the Mulatto Giao. I met the “royal Creole” concept when I entered this world called British Honduras. Some elements out there have tried to indict me as the one who coined the “royal Creole” thing, for whatever their purposes, but it was here before me. Serious. The old people used to refer to “able Creole” as the balance or opposite to “royal Creole.” My understanding was that an “able Creole” was a working class Giao, usually of a darker hue, whereas a “royal Creole” was of the non-manual class, almost always of the lighter colour derived from European admixture. But it wasn’t ultimately a color thing. It was a matter of attitude, of class.
The matter is more complicated than that, because in the last few decades it has come to be assumed that a royal Creole is, by definition, pro-UDP by virtue of being anti-PUP. The Price extended family satisfies every requirement for the “royal Creole” designation except for the fact that they are foundation PUP. This is an example of “complications.”
Amongst the Garinagu, there are class differences, but it is very difficult for the average Giao to discern this. You have to be around a long time before you see the class differences, because the Garinagu, as a survival mechanism, always make sure to project a seamless unity.
All that I’ve written here so far is to lay the foundation for a discussion of the unique relationship between myself and Pen Cayetano. Pen has used his painting talent to express respect for myself to an extent which overwhelms me. In my conversations with him, I realize that he was a young boy of maybe 13 or 14 who attended the UBAD public meetings in Dangriga between 1969 and 1970.
There is an element amongst the Garinagu who control the official ceremonies and public profile of the Garifuna people. As a result, there are working class Garinagu who are sidelined where their perspectives and opinions are concerned. I have spoken to roots Garinagu, for instance, who speak with reverence of the Dangriga trade union activities (waterfront and citrus industry) of the late Misheck Mawema during the late 1970’s.
Misheck Mawema was a native of Zimbabwe (when it was still Rhodesia) who popped up in Corozal Town in1970. There are some who say that Misheck Mawema was a trained agent sent here by the international communist movement to get certain things done. For sure he was no black cultural nationalist. But otherwise from that, I cannot speak definitively about Mawema. He was pretty much a mystery to me. He is never discussed in this country. I wonder why.
In 1983, I got into a fuss with the ruling element of the Garinagu because of criticizing Dr. Theodore Aranda, who had led the UDP between 1979 and 1982 before moving on to form his own party – the CDP. As fate would have it, Dr. Aranda and I became friendly early in 2003 and collaborated to stage Belize’s first and only black summit in September of that year. Some time before that, Dr. Ted had been removed from the good books of the National Garifuna Council.
I bring up the Dr. Ted references to preface my saying this, that after all these years I have reached the point where I feel that the Garinagu are entitled to any and all of their views and opinions. What the Garinagu experienced at the hands of the British (not to mention the French and the Spanish) was simply incredible. It was no less than an attempt to wipe them from the face of planet earth. People are always talking about genocide this and genocide that. Well, Balliceaux was nothing less than a cold-blooded attempt at genocide on the part of the supposedly civilized and Christian British.
As a Roman Catholic Giao who attended Holy Redeemer and St. John’s College, I was not raised with a prejudice against the Garinagu. (From Holy Redeemer time, I knew Greg Arana, Harry Servio and Callistus Cayetano when they lived in the hostel on New Road.) My consciousness of Africa was primarily a result of my time at Dartmouth (1965-68) with a student from Malawi by the name of Guy Mhone (now deceased). When I returned to Belize and spoke about Africa, the late Ibrahim Abdullah (then Charles X Eagan) told me that if it was Africa I wanted to talk about, I had to go to Dangriga. So he took me there in early 1969. That’s when I first discovered hudut. That’s when I first met “Machete.” And that’s when Pen met UBAD.
There are some of us Giao who cherish and admire the Garinagu, one of the reasons being that they are the closest we Giao come to feeling the real vibes of our African side. I am not a man who patronizes the Garinagu. When they step on me, I will step on them. That’s just me.
I don’t mingle much with royal Giao or royal Garinagu. That’s just me. Roots. That’s why Pen Cayetano and I have a special relationship. Pen is roots. And so is that waterfront Garifuna brother who reminisced about Misheck several years ago. I can’t call your name, my brother, but on this Settlement Day, I remember you and I respect you.
Ubafu houn geregeia.