Category Archives: Jamaica

Memories Pictures Hold 1

sholabreasfeeding
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I see myself here and I think, `I look so young, and by comparison, now, when did I get so old?’

But here I sit suckling my first born and I don’t know where we are or who took the photo.  Shola seems unaware, contended and focusing on her nourishment.  She loved the breast and she was over 2 years old when I weaned her.

I loved being pregnant with Shola and I loved being her mother.  I still love being her mother, even though we disagree on some things. But she truly made me understand my power and what it meant to be fierce in a way I had not been or known  before.

I was determined to make sure she had more than her needs met.  I knew from the moment I laid eyes on her that she was a special gift to be treasured and guided. I wanted to gift her the world and herself.

Motherhood ties and binds you, and you are never free again. It takes you places you never knew existed and it shows you all of you raw and beautiful, raw and frightening, raw and blessed.  Thanks for naming me Mother.

“Get Here If You Can,” Grooving on Oleta Adams’ songs

unnamed-3I’m enjoying my coffee in my Gene Pearson mug and listening to Oleta Adams bleating out “ I don’t care how you get here, but get here if you can. “
Given the times and the call to stay home and self isolate, such a plea is folly because trains, planes and even feet are all restricted and down.

But the mind and technology can bridge the gap.

You certainly can’t cuddle up and hug, which is often a balm and probably what many of us need. However, we have to make do and share our feelings and express our needs in other ways.

There was a time for me, when that plea to a lover was as urgent as Oleta sings. There was a time when desire bridged that gap and distance heighten the desire.  Desire is a strong emotion, and while sometimes it is not always grounded in reality, it surely can motivate.

If there has been someone you have been hoping would “get here” now is the time to let that person  know.  So often, because we want to protect our hearts, we refrain from just expressing our true desires, afraid if saying it, and the feelings are not returned, we will be embarrassed. But we still pine and deprive our desires.

Your pride will survive if the sentiments are not mutually shared.

Now more than ever, this time is demanding that we brave and bear our hearts and open the canals of love.

Your needs will not be met, if you keep them to yourselves.  You cannot find and receive love if you guard your heart.

The mystery of the heart will not be solved by keeping it protected.  We desire and love who we do, and all that is important is that we make choices that will uplift and soothe our hearts.

unnamed-4I am asking this yet unknown man to “Get Here, ” however and as quickly as he can, when we are on the other side of COVID 19.  I am ready again for partnership and love, and desire, to be wrapped in the arms of a man whose passion is mutual.

Asé! Let it be! Come forth!!!

Revisiting My Childhood: Going to the Denbigh

One of the fond memories of my childhood is being taken annual to the Denbigh show by my mother.  We would spend all day in the hot sun, looking at fruits and vegetables and animals, then returned after the sun set, loaded with fruits and plants that Mommy always purchased.

I had not been to a Denbigh show for over twenty-five years, but in memory of my recently deceased mother, and also as part of my newly infused independence spirit, I wanted to see if I would recapture my childhood exuberance.

My niece agreed to take me, and on our way, close to Maypen, Clarendon, the site of Denbigh it began to rain, and that too was a part of my memory– that it always rained at Denbigh.  Sure enough, as we entered the entrance gate, I heard two women talking loudly about how every year it rains at Denbigh and that was a symbol of its blessings.

I don’t remember if the show was organised by parishes when I was a child, but was happy to visit each of the Parishes and see the abundance of fruits and vegetables that are being grown in all of the Parishes.  I enjoyed the displays, was very gratified at the re-purposing of plastic, car tires and other disposable item refashioned and shown how they can be put to good use for home gardening. Mostly what gladden my heart was seeing and sampling the diverse by-products of the many fruits and vegetables. For example, I sampled a juice made from potato and pineapple.  There were numerous hair and facial products, organic and made from home grown products. It has long been said that given the geo-diversity of Jamaica, that if we were to push our agriculture production, we could easily feed the entire Caribbean region, and that was evident at the Denbigh show.

Denbigh lived up to my expectation, especially since I plan to go into farming when I retire from academic life. I can raise two goats, a few chickens and grown the food I love to eat like pumpkin and callalloo and yams. We all need to know how to feed ourselves, and despite what limited space we might occupy each and everyone of us can and should grow something, not just plants and flowers to beauty our home, but some herbs, vegetables and fruit trees. May Denbigh continue to grow and improve and I hope parents will continue to understand its importance and take their children to see and appreciate our food and what we grow.

2 Faces or 1

opal87The poem asks who is this child woman and where has she gone? Does her poems still grow in sun-flowers? Does she still dance in the rain?  How has she faced the disappointments and with whom does she celebrate the successes?

opal2016The poems asks who is this other woman?  Where did she come from and why does she have the eyes of the woman above? Are her poems still soaked in dreams submerged in molasses? Does she still hide among the tall grasses and interpret the shapes of clouds?
Are her songs still melodious and do birds sing her awake?

The poem really wants to know who are these faces and where do their truths intersect?

If poetry is the only truth and life is a lie where flows the water of our legacy?

Tribute to Jamaican-American author, Michelle Cliff (11/2/1946-6/12/ 2016

mcliff copy 

Color ain’t no faucet

You can’t turn it off and on

I say, color ain’t no faucet

You can’t turn it off and on

Tell the world who you are

Or you might as well be gone

(Excerpt from Within the Veil) by Michelle Cliff 

Michelle Cliff’s Abeng came out in 1984. Browsing a book store in Berkeley, I saw the title and wanted to know who was this person writing about my Jamaican culture. The Abeng horn was connected to freedom and liberation in Jamaica, especially among the Maroons. It announced, called the people to action and was a signal to unite and fight the enemy. I bought and devoured Cliff’s first novel, in the bildungsroma genre, and could well empathize  with the young Clare Savage, the protagonist of that novel that is set in colonial Jamaica. I wanted to meet this Michelle Cliff.

When my short story collection, Bake-Face and Other Guava Stories, was being published I asked my publisher to reach out to Cliff for a blurb, and she very generously wrote:

“I greet this collection of writing by Opal Palmer Adisa with enthusiam and joy, and a touch of awe…Adisa’s stories chart the experience of island-women with a deep understanding and compassion, and a true sense of their terror and pride, the ghosts that dog their tracks…Adisa makes Jamaica and her women live for us as few before her have done.” Michelle Cliff

I was blown away by this endorsement as we had not yet met or had contact, but I was determined that this would happen.

I sought out Cliff, and we became friends, especially after she moved to California in 1999, where I had been living. Cliff always encouraged and supported me and my work. When I was working on my doctorate on Caribbean Women Writers at UC Berkeley in 1987, Cliff was one of the first writers I interviewed, and after I completed my degree an excerpt of the interview was published

Journey into Speech-A Writer between Two Worlds: An Interview with …

https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/10.2307/3041999.pdf Among the subjects Jamaican born writer Michelle Cliff ex- … The following text is based on two separate interviews: one … 01994 Opal Palmer Adisa .

The Michelle Cliff I knew was shy and soft spoken, a gentle soul, who wanted to lead a very private life, despite being the partner of the very famous and late poet, Adrienne Rich. Although she felt estranged from Jamaica, and refused to return because of Jamaica’s homophobia and violence, Cliff was nonetheless deeply in love with Jamaica and researched its culture which is the setting of both Abeng and No Telephone to Heaven, her first two novels.These works, like her other works explore the very thorny issue of race and class in identity formation, and the impacts and residual effects of post-colonialism.

I spoke with Michelle Cliff about a month ago. She said she was not feeling or doing well, but thanked me for the call, and like always asked about my children. I promised that I would visit with her in the fall when I will be in California, and perhaps do another interview, a continuation of the first. Michelle Cliff’s works are important contributions to the Caribbean canon, and her death will leave a void. Her poetry/prose collection, Claiming an Identity They Taught Me to Despise, 1980 is an important work that I have taught, along with her other novels.

I hope you are rocking in the arms of peace and the cool breeze from the Blue Mountains, our island home, enfolds. Be well my sister in letters and friendship –Michelle Cliff, you will not be forgotten.

Michelle Cliff is the author of the following books:

  • 1998:The Store of a Million Items (New York: Houghton Mifflin Company). Short stories
  • 1993:Free Enterprise: A Novel of Mary Ellen Pleasant (New York: Dutton). Novel
  • 1990:Bodies of Water (New York: Dutton). Short stories
  • 1987:No Telephone to Heaven (New York: Dutton). Novel (sequel to Abeng)
  • 1985:Abeng (New York: Penguin). Novel

Prose poetrymcliff2 copy

  • 1985:The Land of Look Behind and Claiming (Firebrand Books).
  • 1980:Claiming an Identity They Taught Me to Despise (Persephone Press).

 

 

 

My Ancestry: African 99%

During my formative years I was surrounded by many adults who were proud of their African roots although they knew very little factual information about where on the continent they were from, or who their people were. My paternal grandmother, Edith, always boasted of her Guinean roots.

In Jamaica we learned that the vast majority of Jamaicans have ancestral connections to Ghana, and that the Jamaican language has many words and syntax in keeping with the Twi language of the Akan people from that region, including why we omit “h” or insert them in front of some vowels. But there are also dances and religious traditions in Jamaica that have Congo roots that can be traced to the Kongo or Bantu people, and the Yoruba people of Nigeria, and many more strains from other African nations –I don’t use tribe as it is a racist and erroneous term that we have come to accept and use to refer to ourselves.

I was taught about Marcus Garvey and his back to Africa movement, the Rastafarians who were marginalized then, and are still somewhat, always sang praise to Africa, mainly Ethiopia as a result of Haile Selassie and his lineage to the Queen of Sheba and King Solomon, and my uncle Lloyd, in particular, spoke of Egypt and the pyramids, and the valley of the Kings and Queen which was Black Africa, despite seeing the movie with Elizabeth Taylor who played the bi-racial Cleopatra.

As a teen my older brother Stratton and his friends taught me about Kwame Nkrumah that led Ghana to independence, 1957, Jomo Kenyatta of Kenya and the Mua Mau rebellion against the British, and Patrice Lamumba, Congolese independence leader and Julius Nyerere of Tanzania and the then imprisoned Nelson Mandela and his formidable then wife, Winnie Mandela. They were all my heroes.

With my nutmeg colored skin, thick, tightly curled hair that was as stubborn and I was, and my generous lips I knew and loved that I was African. My mother and father were African Jamaicans and proud. As a little girl of ten I remember being on the front lawn painting with my Uncle Lloyd and we talked and fantasized about going to Egypt one day to see the pyramids, and to stroll around the Black Star Square in Accra, Ghana.

Before Alex Haley’s Roots,1977, I celebrated my African heritage, although I did not get to the continent until 1987. I have been fortunate to visit all of the countries of my above heroes, except the Congo, and I was able to share and experience Egypt with my three children and mother and lived for 4 months in Cairo and went snorkeling in the Red Sea. But only very recently when I decided enough delay, and had my DNA done that I learned that my roots are:

  • Cameroon/Congo23%
  • Nigeria20%
  • Mali19%
  • Ivory Coast/Ghana15%
  • Benin/Togo13%

I’ve been to all of the above countries except Cameroon, which borders Nigeria, nor the Democratic Republic of the Congo so those countries will be my next visit. What I do know is that I am African and whenever and wherever I have visited in that continent, people have embraced me and say I am one of them, their relatives, and I have always felt at home in the various countries among the varied people.

The cruel history of the Atlantic Slavery trade might have robbed me of close connection to my direct ancestral lineage, but it has not been able to keep Africa from or out of me. I am Africa. I am African.

The Shad Series: Jamaica’s Detective by Gillian Royes

OPA:  The Rhythm of August Rain  is your 4th title in your detective series that is set in rural Jamaica. Are readers to believe that Shad, the bartender who plays an amateur detective, has real skills to seek out facts, or is he to be perceived as one who dabbles – this is just a hobby?

 

GR:Shad’s true vocation is being a detective. In another culture or time, he would have made it. However, due to his prison term and his lack of formal education, he is limited to working as a bartender and practicing his vocation on the side. He has few skills when the series starts out but tries to educate himself as it goes along. Above all, he is immensely curious.

 

OPA:  What distinguish this series as a detective genre?

 

GR: The series was created as a Caribbean parallel to Number One Ladies Detective Agency. Both fall into the category of “cozy mystery,” not the typical blood and guts form of mystery. There is more character and plot development than mystery to this genre.

OPA: How did you arrive at the title, which has a very poetic ring?  How does the title connect to the central story of this novel?

GR: The title came to me one night in Ann Arbor in a dream. A woman in a bright blue dress said the words and told me it was the title. I got up and wrote it down.

OPA:  There are at least 3 competing stories, Shad and his impending marriage, his boss Eric and his relationship with Shannon, the mother of his daughter, and his daughter, and then the story of  Katlyn, the missing woman from Canada 30 years ago and her affair with a Rasta who is/was a member of one of the Rasta sects. Was it challenging during the writing process to juggle these three story lines and keep each going?

GR: No, I’m used to having one main plot and three subplots, part of the formula I use for the series. The subplots are ongoing, i.e., Shad’s relationship with Beth, Eric’s haphazard life, and the development of the hotel. The main plot differs with each novel. In this case, it’s the story of Katlyn and her entanglement with the Rasta community. By the way, I did know a Canadian woman who went into a Rasta community and came out dying.

OPA: What research did you do to writer about the Rastafarian community?

GR: I read several books written by Rastafari or about them. Barry Chevannes, Yasus Afari, Gerald Hausman, Leonard Barrett were some of the authors. I also discussed the philosophy and lifestyle with Yasus Afari.

OPA: What do you want readers to learn/take away about Rasta culture, it’s various sects?

GR: The point of including Rasta culture and history was to set the record straight, particularly for foreigners who don’t understand or appreciate the origins. I also wanted to show that prejudice has existed toward the group since its inception and, to a certain extent, continues today. Jamaicans are proud of the music, but many still would not want their daughter to marry a Rasta.

OPA:  Eric has not reached out to his daughter, Eve since she was born, and while you do reveal some initial tension between the two when they are reunited, she is a teenager, and Jamaica is very different from her Canadian environment, but it seems that all is forgiven rather easily.

GR: The relationship between parents and child is a complex one, in all cases. Eve is at an age where her emotions are heightened. She hates her absent father, but she’s curious about his world and wants his acceptance. She begins to see that he’s not a bad guy after all. I think a big part of her coming around is that she likes Jamaica and wants to return. Adolescents tend to be very egocentric.

OPA:   Classism and colorism are big social issues in Jamaica still, yet  it seems non-existent in the novel, in that Shad is accepted by Eric, even though American, his best friends are brownnose Jamaicans, who appear to be also accepting of Shad and his family? I don’t know if I have a questions so much as I would like to hear your opinion of these social constructs that impact relationships in Jamaica.

GR: In each novel, I have attempted to deal with a single social issue. I think it would make it too confusing if I’m following several plots and subplots and trying to introduce all the problems existent in the island. In my first novel, The Goat Woman of Largo Bay, the issue was political corruption. The second  — The Man who Turned Both Cheeks — discussed homosexuality and homophobia. The third was The Sea Grape Tree. I went into class and color prejudice in that book.

OPA:At the close of the novel, everything is resolved amicably, and all puzzles  are in place.  Given the context of Jamaica, would it be that easy to solve a 30 year mystery of a white woman in rural Jamaica who goes missing?  And given that tourism is such a big part of Jamaica’s economy, would the government have just brushed that case aside, like it apparently did?

GR: Fiction is not real life, just a reflection of it in the lens of a writer. I always leave things unresolved that are not going to leave the reader with an unfinished feeling. In August Rain, I tried to wrap most things up, in the event that I would end the series. Unfortunately, we never had a real resolution to the death of my friend Sharon.

www.gillianroyes.com