The preparation of dukuna brings back memories of my childhood of going to the river (ghaut) to collect Chainy bush. I can remember the huge boulders (stones), the slippery stones and the water flowing.
I recall the time our Duke of Edinburgh group went on an expedition and decided to rest at Trants’ Estate outside the old plantation house ruins. We prepared dukuna on site as our leaders sat and talked about old jumbie (ghost) stories.
I have to admit until now I never thought about where dukuna originated. However, I can assume that given the ingredients; sweet potato, sugar, ginger, coconut and also given the virtue of how it is prepared; grass roots preparation wrapping in dasheen bush (chainy bush) suggests a slave innovation for them to make best use of what they had to eat.
According to the dictionary of Caribbean English usage dukuna is called ‘dukana‘ in Antigua, British Virgin Islands, St. Vincent, blue-draw(er)s in Jamaica, Boyo in Belize and Jamaica, Cankie in Guyana, Conchi in Nevis, Conkie in Antigua, barbados, St. Kitts, corn-dumpling in St. Kitts, dokunu in Belize and Jamaica, pemi in Tobago, Trinidad, Pone in Jamaica. There are varying mixtures of ingredients all wrapped in a leaf. Ingredients
1 lb sweet potatoes, peeled (grated)
1 cup of coconut (grated)
1 cup of brown sugar
¼ cup vegetable oil
¼ cup flour
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1 table spoon of ginger
1 teaspoon ground black pepper,
Directions
Peel and grate the potatoes .
Place them in a bowl of cold water to prevent discoloration.
Remove (with a knife) the hard layer of the endosperm (coconut).
Grate coconut in a large bowl.
In a large bowl, combine coconut, potatoes, ginger and oil.
Stir in the sugar, black pepper and salt to taste.
Gradually mix in the flour.
Divide the dukuna mixture into a plant leaf such as elephant ear leaf(chainy bush)/banana leaf/ sea-grape leaf wrap with banana palm strings (use aluminum foil if you do not have leaves).
Pour water into a large pot and bring to boil.
Place the completed dukuna in water.
Cook in a covered pot for 1 ½ hour on medium heat.
Untie and enjoy. Serve hot or cold.
The preparation of dukuna brings back memories of my childhood of going to the river (ghaut) to collect dasheen bush (Chainy). I can remember the huge boulders (stones), the slippery stones and the water flowing.
I have to admit until now I never thought about where dukuna originated from. However, I can assume that given the ingredients (potato, sugar, ginger, coconut). Also given the virtue of how it is prepared; grass roots preparation wrapping in dasheen bush (chainy bush) suggests a slave innovation for the slaves to find something to eat.
I am thinking of fancy frocks; crinoline underneath, sash, flower details, floral accents, ribbons in little girls hair, iron combs, girls in their pre-teen years. My mind is thinking of getting ready for harvest Sunday way back then in November.
To me Harvest Festival is one of those special occasions that everything that we wore to church was new. The members of the church brought out their best fruits and ground provisions (sugarcane, bananas, yams, potatoes, oranges, carrots, papaya, dasheen, yams, cassava), to adorn the church from the door to the altar or every corner of the church. We would anxiously wait to go back to church in the afternoon for concert where we would recite our memorized poems about harvest.I recall the instruments would play and the congregation filled the space with spectacular harmony. All were well dressed, well-fed, young, old and everything in between. There was a mysterious expression of awe as all reflected joy and willingness to do our best and give our best. There was an atmosphere of competition with a flare of merriment. We got some of our best cooked meals on harvest Sunday. The food was then sold on Monday morning to raise funds for the church.
In the Bahamas and in other cultures now food is distributed among the poor and senior citizens. Harvest is still with us and whether we call it Harvest or Thanksgiving we should always cherish the memories of this time, but more importantly give God thanks for all he has given and provided for us, not only in material possessions but also in people and experiences.
Today many Western churches remember the dead. The names of deceased family or friends are presented in church for prayers. Someone who is reading this right now maybe gobsmacked, others who have heard of it before and do not subscribe to these rituals may discount or simply dismiss these practices.
At one time or another all of us have lost someone we once cherished and put our trust in and thinking about them does evoke some response in our hearts as multitude of memories no doubt flow. Even my three year old daughter sometimes sits down and expressed her disbelief that her grandpa is not coming back, perhaps it has something do to with it is coming up on the anniversary of his death. Sometimes still when she achieves anything she wishes he was around to share in the experience.
Recently I too have been thinking about my deceased maternal grandfather (Papa) and him kneading the bread for my grandmother to bake and how he would ensure I get hot bread out of the oven with salted butter. I think of paternal grandfather (Dada) sitting outside the house with a cap on the landing beating a pound cake for my grandmother to bake. I can now taste the cakes, using a mixer could not provide such a smooth batter as he did in kneading the cakes with all the love in the world.
In the spice island of Grenada in the Caribbean today it is a tradition for islanders to a gather their family and visit the graveyards placing lit candles on the graves as they honour to share moments of remembrance. This is a tradition that goes across many cultures and religions. Celebrations in other parts of the world include; some people wear ing masks, carrying signs, or erecting elaborate decorations to honour the dead.
According to the Columbia Encyclopedia “Some community centres invite people to commemorate their deceased loved ones with ofrendas (offerings) through alters that include food, symbols, flowers, candles, photos and other mementos. Altars in memory of the dead are also made in people’s homes.”
Whether there is scepticism or out right denial about the validity of the concept of All Souls Day; as we recall the memories of our love ones collectively today, the one thing that we all share in common is that we honour their lives that they once shared with us.
Have you ever been in awe about something then something comes up to remind you where you came from? I can not believe I partied and feted with millions of people due to the emergence of technology.
On the weekend all Montserratians around the globe and thousands of people from all walks of life tuned into Montserrat via the world wide web (internet) and radio to view and listen to the farewell activities for Soca King of The World – Arrow. I sat by my computers from eight o’clock Friday morning to after one o’clock Saturday morning. Montserrat had a link up live with the radio/television station Antigua Barbuda Broadcasting Services (ABS). Through Radio Montserrat (ZJB) we were able to view the casket, attend the Thanksgiving Service and be entertained by a Concert. ” More than 10 radio stations throughout the Caribbean and in the United States carried the service live.”
I intently tuned in as I viewed and listen to it all from my home in Nassau, Bahamas. I had my laptop on the live video streaming and the desktop on radio Montserrat. As we say back in Montserrat ‘nothing pass me’ (I did not miss a thing). During all of this I spoke to former class mates, family and friends in Europe, North America and the Caribbean. I kindly demanded photographs via Facebook from the media team in Montserrat.
As an aside something can also be said about the beauty of the collaboration between the Antiguan and Montserratian Governments, they spoke on each others behalf, they sang, partied and mourn together on the weekend as it was match made in heaven – the support, the camaraderie, jokes, the humor.
I woke up Saturday morning with endless pains as if I was actually in Montserrat during Christmas festival in December at Sturge Park. Only this time electronically I could have turn to anyone in the world that I was connected with via computer or several telephone calls to express how we were feeling and to get feedback from others as well. Additionally, I did not have to wait on the bus or friends to ‘catch me yard’ (go home) I just got up and slide into my bed in the wee hours of Saturday morning.
Then on Sunday on the television show Amazing Race there was a part of it where the contestants had a detour on their planned path. It reminded me of the time when we had a television antennae secured on our house roofs and we had to go outside and turn the pole in various directions to get a television image. I do remember the days even if it was raining or if a wind passed you had to go and try get back that signal. We used to turn the antennae in various directions ‘ north east south and west’ waiting for someone to shout to us they have picked up a signal. We have come along way in the communication era.
Many of us no doubt has missed being in Montserrat for such an occasion, in spite of our geographic location last Friday we partied and feted as if we were on our own soil giving Arrow a ‘joyous send-off’. We did Arrow proud as we were enamored by his magnetism even in death.
To put it in the words of another great son of Montserrat Sir Howard Fergus “the volume and quality of his [Arrow's] work will constitute an ever living monument with global resonance”
Today the Government and People of Montserrat say farewell to Mr. Joseph Henry Meade a former Speaker of The House, School Teacher and Trade Unionists in Montserrat,
“Mr. Joseph Meade served his country with distinction and his foresight in national development is evidenced by him being a founding member of the Montserrat Teachers Union (MUT). He also cemented the inclusion of our young people in national discussions with the founding of the National Youth Parliament during his tenure as Speaker of the Legislative Council from 2001 to 2009. As Speaker, Mr. Meade provided good stewardship at a time when the island was challenged in the aftermath of an erupting volcano. Beyond parliament, his life’s work was a demonstration of commitment of service-to-people above self and we hope that his legacy lives on.”
Montserrat has lost one of its most revered cultural figures, a teacher, scout leader, trade unionist, steward, critic and mentor. He has left a void in our world that will be a challenge to fill.
One of the headlines in world news today was the surge in the price of cotton. It is the highest it has been in fifteen years. I am thinking about the inflationary prices of fabrics; shirts, jeans but most importantly on mind is Montserrat Sea Island Cotton. It is a cold comfort, as I recall the many class trips to the cotton ginnery, viewing the ladies weaving the strands of cotton. I can see those finished products, the table cloths, the place mats, the shawls, belts and scarf’s. Sea Island Cotton weaving is still being used for local consumption and retail but not on a large scale for exportation. Today I also recall the first time I saw a cotton tree in bloom in The Bahamas while driving through Stapleton Gardens (New Providence, Bahamas). I was so overwhelmed I stopped, came outside and took a closer look. I touched it with such tender care that you would have thought that I was cotton laborer in exile.
I was not even born when Montserrat had a booming cotton industry. The raw cotton material was exported to Liverpool and Manchester in England; or even around in 1901 when Montserrat first experimented with Sea Island cotton with a sample seed imported from Barbados. Montserrat had turned to cotton production because it required fewer slaves than sugar. Cotton had played an important role in our island’s economy.
In the 1940s and the 1950s there was a mass exodus from Montserrat to England and as a result of this in the 1960s there was a decline in the cotton industry. In 1969 the Chief Minister announced in his budget speech that the cotton industry was losing its significance. Therefore in Montserrat we came from cotton being responsible for our improved finances in 1910 to our economic decline in 1968. When I reflect on the mass exodus of the labors from Montserrat to the UK in 1940 and 1950 I can not help but feel a profound sense of loss and powerlessness as the migration parallels our island’s current situation of the displacement of our people because of the volcano.
In reflection I am inclined to think that it may be because we are a small nation that we do not fare well even in comparative advantage (trade) or perhaps we give up too easily. I say this as cotton sustained us economically in 1910 why not in 1968? Imagine the wealth of a plantation owner in 1683 who was involved in cotton fetching (harvesting) in Montserrat. Then the price was two shillings six pence per pound compared to today’s price of over one dollar per pound.
Today countries such as India has a high demand for cotton as their stock levels are low I wonder where would we have been today if it was not for our people leaving in droves? I recall that we used phrases like ‘cotton picking mind’ (a phrase many find offensive). The whole idea of cotton resonates with me or fascinates me.
No matter what industry or service you work or have worked in chances are you have used cotton before. The next time that you put on a T-Shirt, your favorite jeans or use a q-tip remember that you are touching a part of history. What are you doing now that will resonate with future generations? It may be fascinating to your great, great grand children to find out what you did for a living. They may be amazed to know what you could buy for a dollar. They may find it remarkable to learn why you live where you live, and what activities occupied your time. I implore you to make the best of what you do now and enjoy the fruits of your labour and record it by photos or in writing because history is occurring now right before your eyes.
Some of the memories that resonate with me when it comes to Arrow pertain to my aunties (aunts). Right now, I have this urge to call my Dad as I recall the memories of his sisters coming home from London at Christmas time excited. They could not wait to go to Sturge Park in Montserrat to see Arrow perform. There would be lots of gold, black, red, green glittered blouses; high heel shoes and stockings, there would be men and women raw with excitement. Arrow would come on stage in the early hours of the morning to perform one or two songs. That irritated some, but even for them it was worth everything. I remember my maternal aunt who had a passion for the Arrow song “Man Must Live,” she always recited the lyrics as if they pertained to her own life.
As I grew older his works took a more personal interest. When I was studying abroad, in College, receiving the news about the volcano erupting, the song that resonated with me was “AhJust can’t run away.” Particularly during those College years I would play the song and sang the lines “On the map you can’t hardly find it but it has always been my paradise,” to the tip of my voice as I found it hard to believe that most people I would meet never heard of Montserrat.
His work has brought a lot of recognition to Montserrat especially the song “Hot Hot Hot” it gave us as sense of ownership no matter where in the world we were. When he came to the Bahamas in the late Nineteen Nineties our friendship was born. I remember going to Clifford Park to watch him perform. It was ‘ram pack’ (filled) that night. I was always filled with pride about my island but that night it bore a deeper root.
From then I would go home and always visit him or from time to time I would get personal messages from him. I am grateful to my husband to have the insight to encourage me to purchase a copy of each of his compact disc (CD) and have him autographed them (they are not for sale). Montserrat, The Caribbean and the world over will forever celebrate
In the middle of the morning Rush Hour
By royal command he rests
His movements always legendary
He carries his island in his spirit
The sound track of our lives in a Stranger’s Paradise
The Groove Master made many loose control
Flamboyant magnetic appeal on stage we can see
The world turns with his borrowed energy
Like a torch lit flame, memories blaze
With mix match dance and cadence
Now his music is louder and sweeter
The explosion blend of soca , meringue, rap, salsa
The Art of his natural instinct – songs with social commentary dance
This week many children will return to the classroom after a lengthy summer break. Most schools in The Commonwealth of The Bahamas opened last week. In Montserrat we would say ‘their free paper burn,” which means their leisure time was now limited to the rigor of school. In Montserrat as it with most of the Eastern Caribbean school starts today the 6th of September. When I was younger and a child was slow in learning (slow) we would say they went to August school. So, needless to say we did not want to go back to school in August.
Recently, after much debate and an apprehension to enroll my daughter in a certain school, I conceded and registered her at the school. At this point Uncle Gerald would have had a good laugh as he ragged me before now that my daughter would not go to school because I would have to go with her and that was not possible. Monday morning all the children were well clad, every pleat in line, everything was new; uniforms, ,bags, lunch boxes, shoes. The returning students seemed to beam with joy. I must admit I had a different level of respect for the school just walking through. Parents of first time attendees showed up with a joyful expectancy. Of course for the younger ones (pre-school age) there were in tears they wanted to go back home – they wanted their mothers.
As I entered my child’s class room the teacher was enthusiastic and had a certain degree of dignity in her attitude and by the way she carried herself. Later in the evening my three year old daughter came home with a schedule of subjects for each day, something I did not see until I was in High School. Also there were two letters one from her class teacher and the other from her assistant introducing themselves. As I said before I was not sure I would let my daughter attend so I did not attend Parents teacher’s conferences held in June. To my surprise, I learned that her teacher, whose deportment was that of a first time teacher keen to exercise the knowledge she had garnered, was a seasoned teacher of sixteen years. I was taken aback, I breathed a sigh of relief and was reassured then that my child was in capable hands because she took pride in her appearance and strove to develop her field. So far my daughter likes it and now I see why this school has one of the best reputations on the island.
As our children, grandchildren, friend’s children, niece’s, nephew’s, sisters, brothers, cousins God children return to the classrooms let us support the teachers whom we have entrusted with our children. They too have taken the time to be experts in their fields so that they can groom our children when they are away from us. Let us encourage and support them by putting in those additional hours outside school so that their loads may be a little lighter.
Recently I visited Rum Cay, Bahamas; a place that was extraordinarily comfortable and happy. Its people and culture transported me to my home Montserrat. It is remarkable that small communities like Rum Cay, Bahamas and Montserrat, West Indies have so much in common. Rum Cay had about nine settlements now only one settlement, Port Nelson, remains settled with a population of eighty people most of the original inhabitants have moved to Nassau. Montserrat’s population was displaced because of an active volcano that made two thirds of the island uninhabitable. A Montserratian population once over twelve thousand now has approximately of four thousand with most of the original inhabitants now living in the United Kingdom, the United States and Canada. Also like Montserrat, Rum Cay is very dark and quiet at night; there is a definite stillness outside the populated settlement, only the faint noise of the ocean and a few birds and insects can be heard.
While I was there I learned that Rum Cay has a pond that is called Mermaid Pond. Their legend has it that if a person gets the comb of the mermaid when she surface to plait her hair one will obtain instant wealth. I was taken a back because Montserrat my island shares a similar legend:
There is a white mermaid who appears at the top of Chances Pond every Easter at midnight. Hundreds of Islanders would climb Chances Mountain which is 3002ft using torches. They said that one must arrive before dawn take the mermaids comb from her and ran to the sea before they could be caught they would be rich for life.
The Montserratian legend varies a bit from the one told in Rum Cay but the premise is the same. Who can tell how far this legend is spread or where it really first originated?
There are so many old stories, legends, folk tales that I have come across in my reading and travels. Could it be that the legends were started to explain the night-time or silence of dusk? Could it also be that there was a similar legend in Africa and slaves took these stories with them where they settled? Or is it that these legends coincidentally evolved simply to entertain children and give hope and provide humor. If we compared Rum Cay and Montserrat to places like Nassau and United Kingdom both centers of migration we will see that many old legends and folk tales are being and have been lost? Will the next two generations know about our old stories that shaped our culture and made us who we are as these legends?
Do you know of similar stories that your ancestors told? I urge you to share your stories with the world, so that we may learn more about each other and so that those narratives are not forgotten forever.
This morning an elderly friend drove up in the church yard with the back of his pick-up truck laden with spice leaves (pimento) for anyone who wishes to have some. I got so excited thinking about what I would do with the spice leaves after church. An older lady asked what could she use the leaves for, I told her that you can use it in souse, porridge, to cook meat, tea or as a bed for grill meats. Personally, I could not wait to go home to boil some porridge. What was truly priceless was a simple expression from my daughter as her eyes lit up and she said mama I love flour porridge that filled me with a sense of pride.
Tonight thinking about the porridge takes me back to the first time I came to the Bahamas and was home sick and cooked some flour porridge (flour pap) and my landlord at the time (I was in college) associated it with growing up poor. She was not an unkind woman and was just misinformed; I sighed and gave her a short shrug and concentrated on my porridge. The few second of discomfort were washed away as my flour porridge eased me through the sadness and longing for home that I felt and linked me back to my grandmother’s nurturing. Thinking about it now, if I grew up poor I did not know it at the time.
Sometimes in life because we are from different cultures/backgrounds there is an inability to connect and words said with certain intonations can have such a profound effect. My friends, we have no control over what people say or do we have to deal with it, perception is everything and only us knows what is important to us. In life we can find something to love about each person.
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