history

mermaids, imps and goddesses: the folklore of The beliefs that informed our identity

he identification of what He couldn’t say, exactly. It took a while to work is our national heritage is out, but it went something like this: in Tobago, something of a challenge, like other places, the experience of slavery served whether as colonial to erase most memories of origin and identity, Tbuildings, history or as folk traditions. This is but could do little about intuition and belief in the case because of the nature of Trinidad and the higher powers that both mirror and shape Tobago’s historical experience, especially as our own experiences, destinies and so forth, so, expressed in the work of those who take upon although the memory of names like Yemanja themselves the Sisyphusian task of recording and Oshun had faded, the certain knowledge and interpreting this unfolding landscape. that the Waters beneath the Earth and in the These thinkers have had to contend with not Sea were the vehicles of Divinity had endured. Gérard A. Besson HBM, just the changing times, but also with competing This notion remained strong amongst a people Historian and Author, narratives in a segmented society. who had been taught to forget themselves. But, Trinidad when seeing the contents of the cartouches of Tobago Mermaids the world maps on the walls of the Great Houses You see, as one would expect, these islands are that depicted the antics of a crowned Neptune not like other islands. In the case of Tobago, with an Oceanus trident in hand surrounded our elder sister, she was once a part of an older by a court of denizens of the deep out on the British Empire, some say the first one, along with rolling sea, the old folks of Tobago smiled and Barbados and Antigua, St Kitts, and the understood that they were always right in the North American colonies. These are all places understanding of the universality of the Divine, where historical traces, in terms of European while not bothering too much with the vagaries residue, are still stumbled upon in bushy of gender. The colonial experience demanded outcrops. I myself have stumped my toe on a a twin-framed view of the world, where one’s bell almost buried in the red earth of Parlatuvier visions were viewed through another’s lenses. in Tobago that might have rung on a plantation when these islands served as depots for the mass Becoming Trinidadian transmigration of souls in transit from a suffering In Trinidad we had something of a different beyond belief to a place that one would hope experience. Trinidad is new, as would be the Paradise of the just. experiences go. Before 1783 and the Cedula of That being the case, Tobago’s windmills stand Population, which should be regarded, according today as silent reminders of that residue, which to Professor Carl Campbell of the University the “Tobago Wedding” as a folk festival parodies of the West Indies, as our first constitution, as it catches and contains, like a breath caught Trinidad was a very sparsely populated place. between laughing and crying, a moment in its There were just over a thousand people living cultural treasury. here, that is counting the handful of those who Opposite: Duennes, the Tobago has, and maintains, that quality. thought that they were of European descent, spirits of children who When I asked the old man at Black Rock about those who actually were and the few blacks that died before they were it, he answered, “Mermaids, I don’t know hovered between bondage and idleness – you baptised, roam the forests anything about that.” When pressed, persuaded see, there was no real economy. As far as the of Trinidad playing and flattered, he said, “Mermaids, they look First People were concerned, they lived “here” tricks on living children. like Kings of old, or warriors of long ago.” which meant, as far as the eye could see and the Illustration by Stuart Hahn “Mermaids! Kings? Warriors! How you mean?” heart imagine. This included these islands and

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the mountains of the Paria peninsula as seen, the beginning, there was the Cedula, and the Th e Afro-French- washed on a clear day, all the way to Venezuela. Cedula was made Law. Whereas most islands in the Caribbean Th e fi rst recasting of history to make a usable Creole culture went Sea took hundreds of years to develop a past began then. Th is was where we created our underground so as to comprehensive society, Spanish Trinidad fi rst myths. Th e fi xed mental architecture that acquired one, virtually fully structured, sought to explain the unexplainable, and to survive and as such overnight. In the space of less than fi ft een achieve this miracle we had to become experts became the principal years, 1783–1797, suddenly there were 1,500 in the art of what the scientists call Creole Europeans, half of whom were French, and orality. Storytelling. Which may be thought of method for our 18-20,000 Africans, who were enslaved. in the Patois of the French islands in which they identity formation. And some 11,000 “Free Blacks and People were told: “Sé lè van ka vanté, moun ka wè lapo of Colour.” Almost all of these were French- poul,” or, “it is when the wind is blowing that we In fact, the British speaking, Catholic, and, interestingly, one see the skin of the fowl.” suppression of could say uniquely, that they were products of All this suff ered something of a shock and a miscegenation. Th ey formed the vast majority setback with the conquest of the island by the the culture made of the free population. British in 1797. Th ey proceeded to teach us it blossom It was around this demographic that our fi rst English, introduce the Anglican Church and blush with identity-forming mechanisms took attempted to cause us to forget our heroes like place. Th is was where our fi rst attempts to make Phillip Roume, the coloniser, a French Creole sense of what we could barely comprehend in who was instrumental in the promulgation of terms of self-realisation began. We started off as the Spanish Cedula of 1783, and Jean Baptiste sojourners, Afro-French-Creoles, in a strange Phillippe, an Afro Creole, the petitioner, who land. In someone else’s place. One’s identity must made certain in 1824 that the conditions of the of necessity relate to something and as such has Cedula were maintained by the conqueror. Th is to be ‘invented’ at the appropriate historical may have been our fi rst identity crisis. moment. So this was the place to which this crowd brought their collective memories of past Becoming subversive experiences. Th e born Creole. Th e Afro-French-Creole culture Some had memories of a West African went underground so as to culture, already mature when they were sold survive and as such became the to the ship, others had memories of suff ering principal method for our identity and of triumphs on other islands, the most formation. In fact, the British important being manumitted, naturally, suppression of the culture made while there were those who were transporting it blossom. All folk forms by memories of a Europe that was just emerging their nature are subversive. In its from the enfi efdom of the Altar and the Th rone. subversion we were able give to the In a manner of speaking all were marooned. world our music, Th is then for Trinidadians was to be home, our Carnival arts, where we would create our fi rst attempt at which contained forming a common imagination. 1783 and during its hey-day the Cedula was ground zero. It was to be from such characters as here that we would proceed to remember our Dame Lorraine, past; this is our fi rst historical narrative. In a take off on

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Papa Bois, the the posturing of the pretend French aristocracy, of the woman who had been wronged by men. Piss n’ lit, mostly about unmentionables, and “Ki mélé wòz nan paké bwa Jacques?” said custodian of all the Diab’ Molasse, which is the worst thing that Angelique Romany, who had been listening to fl ora and fauna, could happen on a cane plantation, a slave falls the conversation, “what business has a rose in into a boiling vat of molasses: that ghost still Jacques’ bundle of wood?” He also explained is the most widely haunts the carnival; and of course calypso, which that the Duenn did not haunt children, “No, not known of all our at its best contains the subtle double entendre, at all, the Duenn is haunt the parent.” perhaps the most subversive of all, and fi nally, “How you mean?” folklore characters. as we entered modern times the steelband. It is “Well, she didn’t have time for the boy. She too He is the old fascinating to enter the imagination of Trinidad’s busy wid she business. Th en the night come, she 19th century. “Folklore, ent see the boy, she man of the forest folklore,” she said it like a gone outside, she calling and is known foreign word. “What you calling, she standing mean?” “Tell me about up in the road under by many names, La Diablesse,” I said, I the street lamp, alone, including Mâitre was interviewing Miss everyone inside, she Fairy – actually Miss calling him, ‘Robie, Bois, the master Augustine Fournillier of Robie!’ She going mad of the woods, and Paramin. “La Diablesse, with fear. Th e boy loose, she is the spirit of the he dead, the Duenn take Daddy Bouchon, woman who has been him, somewhere. ‘Robie,’ the hairy man wronged by man, you she bawl, running inside, ever see La Diablesse ‘Robie!’ She crying now, interfere with woman? Is she can hardly breathe. man who too dam bad.” ‘Robie! What you doing I had to meet another there? You eh hear me storyteller, Lumat, who calling you, come here!’ lived even further up She was so glad to see the hill, “in the clouds,” him that she cut his as Peter “Choco” tail good.” Tardieu explained. Lumat cleared up the enigma saying, “Th e Becoming poetry African people have a goddess of love, they And then: “Th is is the story of the ancient one knew her as Ezulie Freda. In ceremonies she who lived in the heights; who walking through was adored at the crossroads, the cosmic place the forest, never met his like... the world went where womankind comes face to face with her by, he was the only dreamer on the scene, he divine self.” I made myself comfortable. “In was sharply etched against all horizons. He understanding what women had to go through became all things. He would catch a glimpse of LaDiablesse: the spirit of in life, in order to send a warning, this creature a form refl ected in the mountain pools, among the woman who has been of love and creativity had to be re-invented she the stones and leaves that lay on the bottom. wronged by man. become the rod of correction, to frighten little Sometimes, in the sky, or mixed between trees, llustration by boys and to make them remember that they sky, a darting bird, a cloud, he would glimpse a Alfred Codallo must pay for their sins.” She became the ghost passing shape. He was not afraid, he knew that

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all was I – endless refl ections of himself upon Mâitre,” should be your greeting. If he pauses If you should meet the earth and in the sky. He called many things to pass the time with you, stay cool, and do not by their names – Tucuche and Tacarib, so to be look at his feet. Lumat laughed, and said, “Tan with Papa Bois be known forever aft er. Everywhere he went he moun konnèt lòt nan gwanjou, nan nwit yo pa very polite. “Bon made a name for himself.” bizwen chandèl pou kléwè yo.” Papa Bois, the custodian of all fl ora and fauna, Th at means, when a person has known jour, vieux Papa,” is the most widely known of all our folklore another in the day-time, he does not need a or “Bon Matin characters. He is the old man of the forest and is candle to recognise him in the night. known by many names, including Mâitre Bois, Anita Tardieu, Choco’s great-grand aunt, said Mâitre,” should be the master of the woods, and Daddy Bouchon, to me that the family had magic words: three, one your greeting. If the hairy man. was a secret, the other Nobel Laureate Derek two were for fi re and he pauses to pass Walcott remembers when for locks. She said the time with you, he was a Mi Jean meeting she saw her cousin Papa Bois somewhere in “Pussy” use the word stay cool, and do the misty mountain villages for fi re, which he not look at his feet of Trois Pitons in his native uttered when he saw Ste Lucie; it went something a bush fi re about to like this: “Bonjour Mi Jean, wipe out his chive, Mi Jean the philosopher,” rosemary and thyme. said the old man. “Bonjour, Th en she had to Papa Bois. How come you intervene when a know my name?” asked Mi youngster, who had Jean. “But everyone knows overheard the word you very well, my friend. for locks, locked his High and low, from the siblings in a motorcar, cloudy mountaintops to the but did not know the villages among the smoke word for unlock. and rum, hasn’t everyone “Sé pou on dòmi heard of Mi-Jean the jurist, an poulyési-poul the intellectual? Come, sit. pou sav si ka ronfl é,” Do not be modest. You are among equals.” she said smiling. You must sleep with fowls to “I see you have a cow foot, ain’t that so?” said know if they snore. Mi Jean, pointing. ‘Th ey’ say that the tradition came “Yes, yes. A cow foot – you have an eye for to Trinidad with some old French families, the detail. Would you like some tobacco? What are majority of whom became priests and nuns. you reading?” Enquired the old man politely. Th ere was a commingling, a miscegenation “Everything! Th is book have everything in it with a similar African tradition. Of this an you want to know about. Cow foot... wait... ah Englishman wrote: “A ball of fl ame along she go fi nd it,” said Mi Jean, busy with the index. came, fl ying without a wind.” Some say there is Papa Bois: custodian “Cow heel...” a school for Soucouyants up Saut d’Eau Road. of all fl ora and fauna. If you should meet with Papa Bois be very A priest remembers walking along Las Cuevas llustration by polite. “Bon jour, vieux Papa,” or “Bon Matin beach one night seeing a ball of fi re coming Alfred Codallo

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By the 1960s a along. As it went by he recognised a parishioner, identity formation, one of their own invention, an elderly woman, inside it. In the meanwhile found it necessary to erode not only the British gradual loss of Lord Executor sang: “At last the bugle call, I’m colonial influences, but also to diminish the language, plus the not sorry for man at all... sans humanité.” status of the century and a half old Afro-French- Loup Garou, the science man, the shape changer, Creole cultural identity. politically inspired the Obeah man, the poisoner on the estate, the This was a tragic loss. In placing, through its ending of the spectre haunts the plantation’s graveyard. He is political rhetoric, the local European-descended phantom at the crossroad. His creature is the one French Creoles and those Afro-Creoles who agricultural lifestyle, who passes through the night, black and naked, supported the original culture in terms of saw the demise of a a chain around his waist, dragging. The coffin language, religion, an agricultural lifestyle and the balanced on his head, has tree candles burning. freedom to have an independent denominational variety of folk and What a way to transport bush rum. The Obeah education, into political opprobrium, an oral traditions. Our man is a businessman, you understand. As they ambivalence, a sense of loss, of mixed feelings say: “Léfan ka valé kalabas, pas li konnèt bonda- about each other, a dissonance, a decrease of 19th, early 20th li.” Which is to say, an elephant can swallow a racial harmony, emerged within the society on century Afro-French calabash because it knows the size of its asshole. the whole. It is yet to be reconciled. This along with the quickly vanishing built Creole cultural Becoming modern heritage has engendered, collectively, a deep memory became lost Now, to lift another corner of the handkerchief psychological division whose repercussions of history. The Afro-French-Creole culture are yet to be recognised by those who record through emigration entered its twilight in the period of between the such things. The culture never recovered. and immigration, as world wars. French Patois was increasingly seen Colonial suppression had made the culture as a leftover from a long ago time, as modernity go underground and thrive in its subversion, well as being eclipsed quickly overtook us. It stigmatised one as being politicisation of the culture killed it dead. “Nom by other realities real old fashioned. mò; zèb ka lévé douvan lapòt-li.” Which means: By the 1960s this gradual loss of language, plus the man has died, grass grow before his door. the politically inspired ending of the agricultural Presently to attempt to enter into the lifestyle, saw the demise of a variety of folk and imagination of the now virtually disappeared oral traditions. Our 19th, early 20th century Afro-French-Creole past, to become involved Afro-French Creole cultural memory became lost in its vast belief system, which includes magic, through emigration and immigration, as well as music, songs, verse, bush medicine, prayers, being eclipsed by other realities. folktales, customs and superstitions, one has to The ‘old gods,’ Papa Bois, Loup Garou, listen well to the words of anthropologist Maya Soucouyant, La Diablesse, the Duenns, all Deren who did some seminal work in in started to fade away, as gods do when there is the 1950s and who wrote: “Myth is the twilight no one to believe in them anymore. More than speech of an old man to a boy. The speech of an two thousand years ago Plutarch wrote of the elder in the twilight of his life is not history, but obsolescence of the oracles, which signalled the a legacy; he speaks, not to describe matter, but end of the classical age. to demonstrate meaning. He remembers that The politicising of Trinidad and Tobago by which has been, according to what could and or the newly emerged Independence movement should be. From material circumstances of his brought along politicians who for the purpose experience he plots, in retrospect, the adventure of institutionalising a different mechanism for of the mind which is the myth.” ■

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