The pictures will be more meaningful if you read the unedited notes I wrote while in Grenada: Grenada is a place where one can enjoy the best of organic foods. Well, except you prefer the imported stuff you will find in the supermarkets. How refreshing it is to suck an unpolished orange straight from the tree instead of those that they shine to retain the color. Golden apples are in season. I bought two bags from a little shop in Lagoon road. On my way there, I met a certain face that I knew but I don’t know what part of the brain it was stored for donkey years. The human mind is a powerful computer and its storage capacity is astounding. I must pause to say a little more about faces. When you move around Grenada you are likely to see countenances that resurrect memories. If you want to be overwhelmed by myriad faces that simultaneously send you back into time, you have to attend social gatherings like church services and even funerals. People who remember your name will call you out. Some will stare inquisitively at you and then at the moment they are confident they know who you are, they will shout your name. Well, that is particularly so if they think you are not a “showoff” individual. I met a face I knew from Palmer school days. I met him in Lagoon Road, a road we called the Mang or Ballast Ground. He journeyed back into time and recalled how he and other students used to walk the distance from Palmer School during the one hour lunch break, have their lunch and reach back in school before the commencement of the afternoon session. He mentioned that it took fellows like Joey, another student and others approximately seven minutes to cover the distance. He joked that time must have been different in those days and he wondered why student will take a bus for very short distances these days. Saint George’s Grenada is often described as a quiet sleepy town. That is especially so on Sundays. Today the Carenage was quiet except for the music that rose from Rhum Runner as it went out of the harbor for its customary cruise. I will be spreading my wings and I will end up in the outer parishes in the coming days so there will be more to say. I saw the Visigoth in Grand Anse today. A woman recognized me as I approached and shouted to a group of people who were seated in front of the shop: “Look Junior’s friend who always look for him when he come from Ametrica” Junior is called a stupidee but I grew up with him and he is a friend. I sat and chatted with them. I remarked that I was going to the steps that lead from the street to the beach. I wanted to take a picture to clarify a post I had made on Facebook. When I posted the picture many people taught it was taken near Old Trafford. I mentioned sea grapes and one woman told me that some of the trees are now behind fences so people will not be able to pick grapes from those trees anymore. She was not too pleased with that. My first two days went just the way I expected. I wanted to get the feel of Grenada once more and that meant taking a few moments to myself for meditation, giving thanks and reflection. I felt a touch of sadness when I passed tanteen and looked at the area where the Spout, our childhood Bikini Beach was located. It disappeared when the area was filled up. The calm, tempting water will forever be lodged in my mind. “Change is constant” we all know, but it is wonderful that enjoyable images linger in the human mind long after the landscape has changed. We must thank God for life. When we open our eyes in the morning it is a blessing. When I sit to write in the quietness of the foreday morn and I look around the Cooper Hill/ Carenage area, I realize how blessed I am to be still breathing. Life is a journey and some people finish the journey quickly. I look around and the reality hits me straight in the face: Many people I know are dead. Just today someone was telling me that the funeral business in Grenada is thriving. What does this tell us? We are not here forever and whatever goodness we can enjoy, let us enjoy because tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Monday will be the first day of weekday activities. I will take the opportunity to reach out, to connect and mingle more. I have to contact people from my Alma Mater, SJCSS. God Bless you and again apologies to my many friends on my other Facebook profile. It is easier to access this profile while I am here. God Bless Anthony Wendell DeRiggs. Today was a wonderful day for me in Grenada. The highlight was meeting my good friend Evans Goodings who took me to his farm lands in the heart of Willis. Most people know me by the name Anthony or Wendell but when someone shouts the name “Tatoes” from a car, I quickly realize it is a close friend. Three people called me Tatoes from passing cars today. The third was Evans, a close buddy whose friendship stretched from our days at Schaper School and continued in Brooklyn. He lives in Grenada presently. I jumped into his car and I was prepared to go in any direction he was heading. I have often written about the lodge-like relationship past students of Schaper School can boast about. I remember the occasion I stumbled into my friend Jerry and I ended up in Grand Anse gobbling down cashews under a tree there. The area close to Melville Street was busy and it was evident that people had filtered in for the Christmas season. Speaking of Christmas, I met someone who told me that things have changed and people cannot afford to light up Christmas trees or paint houses as was done in days past. I told him that was not only in Grenada but various other countries. It is hard in many places. As Evans drove, we chatted and our discussion covered a wide range of topics. Conversation always comes easy when there are so many events to pull from the mind. I mentioned another friend we all call Cowie and I told Evans I was going to text him. O! The wonders of the cell phone and technology in general! He told me to mention a certain nickname in the text and I did so. Cowie immediately identified Evans as the individual who was driving. We reached our destination and parked near a ravine. I asked about crayfish and if youngsters still pull them out of the small stream. Such a pastime is rare these days I was told. We headed for the land. If you want to be enveloped by peace, quietness and tranquility then find yourself among the trees. If you want to be refreshed by cool air that can drive away all the toxic fumes you breathe in the big cities, head for the land. If you want to pick golden apple, “paw paw”, orange, guava, or a sapodilla, then head for the land. If you want to be stung by a maribone or see a small serpent you can head for the land also. If you want to stand in a spot in Grenada and let your eyes land on the sea near Beausejour, or look at hills that block off Mount Moritz and Concord, then head for a special area in Willis, Saint George’s. You can also stay in that spot and see the tower at the 1910 feet at Grand Etang. Evans is a philosopher. The young man who joined us also benefited from his wisdom. He mentioned two deep thoughts that attracted my ear and I told him I was going to mention them when I write. He said that many people stockpile wealth but good friends were more important to stockpile. How can I doubt that? I can testify to that after forging so many cherished ties My stay in Grenada is a blessing. How many places in the world can one have the fortune of eating fruits to the heart’s content and then filling up bags to take home. Friends, be good to people. I often say that my mother was a good woman, and many times she freely gave of the little she had to less fortunate people. The blessing of the parent will always fall on the children. I bought breakfast for someone in Grand Anse who told me he was hungry and the same day I reaped the reward of So many bags of fruit and bananas I have to share. The second thought I mentally recorded from Evans concerned sharing but of a different kind. He pointed to graves on the way and mentioned that some of the riches ideas are in the graves. The people never shared them so the wonderful and interested thoughts went with them. He recalled that older people used to bite and swallow pieces of charcoal and ashes. Pregnant women did that also. When he worked in the USA and became familiar with water filters, he saw the importance of charcoal as a filtering tool. Now I am told there are charcoal tablets. Customs that have been tested over time must be preserved and ideas that are confined in the heads of people must be released and documented. This is a strong reason why I put my thoughts into books and cyber space. So yes, good friendship is important as well as sharing ideas. Two friend who live in Sauteurs are getting impatient and wondering when I “am coming up” Soon, soon, I am just into my third day. God’s Blessings, from a man about to choose between oranges, golden apples and guava. All organic! Carlos, I will get that picture for you today but I might not be able to post it until I get back. Charlie, I will look for Joe Joe Fay-e in Grenville Street today. Anthony Wendell DeRiggs. GRENADA: OF BIRDS, ANIMALS AND INSECTS: The cocks are still crowing as loud as ever. Some of them are even crowing during the day. I had forgotten the sound the hen and chicks make but as I write, there is a constant reminder coming from below a nearby tree. A little black bird with its red crested breast flew right into the house a few moments ago. It sat on a table, took a good look at me and then flew out and settled on a lamppost. I was told that the black bird is a constant visitor and it goes on the table and put small holes in fruits it sees there. It eats sugar also. Ground lizards and regular lizards are everywhere. Years ago, Dr. Groomes documented the various species of birds, animals and plants found in Grenada. Many have since disappeared. The agouti which was shortened to gouti is not currently found in Grenada. The Mona monkey that came from West Africa during the period of slavery is fit and doing well in the Grand Etang forest. I am sure I will get the chance to see them in action before I leave. Yesterday I inquired and the famed Grenadian constrictor known as the Crebo. But that too, I was told are hardly seen anywhere in the land. I almost stepped into an ant nest yesterday. I have not seen the crazy ants yet but my eyes are open. I saw a donkey in Willis and I heard the braying that reminded me of the donkey that was usually tied in the pasture near to Schaper School. That donkey disturbed class once when it stood in the pasture and put on an exhibition that made the female students laugh or hide their faces. The dog that usually barked at me as I go down the steps has not done so since I arrived. I saw it lying near a drain yesterday. It opened its eyes, looked at me but did not stir or make a sound. I hope it keeps that up. I am sure you know that the consumption of large dosage of liquids can stimulate the urge to urinate. I looked for a place to do so recently. I was given a key to a toilet situated at the back of a shop. A dog was tied close to the toilet with just enough rope to keep it from biting anyone who dared to venture. It was one, two, three for me and I was out of there. Ooops! The black bird just returned and two pigeons just settled on the electric wire near a lamppost. When last have you seen a congoree (millipede)? I saw one walking near a drain and I remembered a joke someone once gave about the congoree and its many legs. The congoree was playing cricket and the ball struck one of its legs. There were shouts for Leg Before Wicket. The congoree calmly asked the umpire, “which leg?” The night is filled with sounds I remember from childhood. The mating call of cats coupled with the familiar clinging of frogs reminds me that I am far away from Brooklyn. A parting note: If you come to Grenada, take it easy on the hot pepper sauce. You are not playing with that mild tabasco and you will surely get the reminder before you get up from the toilet seat. From a man who is sipping on a hot cup of cocoa tea. Anthony Wendell DeRiggs Grenada: More from Tatoes: When I walk the streets and climb the hills of Grenada I find time for reflection. Today I saw a group of young men sitting in front of the house that was our dwelling place when we lived on Cooper Hill. They were just sitting there liming and talking. Well, you know how I like to initiate conversation. I told the young men that I used to live in the house and they sat with attentive ears as I gave them a short history detailing life as it existed in those days. In my days. Lol. I recaptured stories of Teresita’s mango tree, the Janet House she called home and I pointed to the house where Miss Cinty used to live. I peered at an area behind the house , an old dilapidated spot laden with rubbish. I told the young men that a drain used to run along that area and the ducks my mother kept walked there. I mentioned the tin mango tree and the race for mangoes when they fell on the galvanize and hit the ground. They listened attentively and laughed when I injected humor. Later that day, I met another group of young men sitting near a shop on Park Lane. I paused to take a picture of Marryshow pasture, my childhood playground. One of the young men called out to me. He told me his father was Whosay, a person I knew well from my childhood days. How can I forget Whosay? I met him a few years ago and reminded him of the occasions he took the crabs out our traps when we “set” them near the coals market. Let me pause to say a few words about the many young men who spend much of the day just hanging out. I don’t know the reason for that but I see them all over the place. I met them in Willis, River Road and other places. This is not something new but the numbers have grown. Some of them cook and eat by the side of the road. The young men in Park Lane invited me to take a seat but I politely declined. I had other areas to cover and I moved on but not before telling them about the yellow buttercups that lined the pasture many years ago and about the cricket matches we played on that ground. I stressed the discipline that was prevalent in those days and I emphasized the point when captains of our cricket teams (like Charlie Hood) spoke, the players listened and obeyed. I met other people in Grenada who fall into the group we call “gone through”. They walk around and talk to themselves. I saw one in Tanteen. He was engaged in a heated conversation with himself. The strange thing is that more than a few remember me. I have often asked my self why people who are termed crazy or strupidee have no difficulty in calling me out after all those years while friends who are academically astute look at me and call me Carl . Carl is my Brother. I met another man close to the building that was the Lime factory on the Wharf. He sat there and laughed continually. On the positive side, I must shower praise on a certain person who lives on the Carenage. I get up early in the morning and when I peer through the semi-darkness, I see him in his little boat heading out to raise his fish pots. That is the kind of industrious attribute people like the Grenadian icon M.Z. Mark emphasized. He often mentioned that there “is no substitute for hard work” and a willing mind will always seek and explore ways to improve. I spoke to a friend who told me he offered to pay a group of young men to do some work for him but they declined his offer. And Man on the Run who lives in Belmont is still on the go, toiling for his daily bread. God bless him. I have done a lot of walking since I landed in Grenada. It is deliberate. I walk, I observe and I write. Well, there will be exceptions. I do not intend to walk all the way to Sauteurs on Saturday. I am certainly looking forward to that visit. I walked up Cooper Hill today on my way to visit someone. It was a rough walk and I am sure I was able to do so because of the practice I had walking around Prospect Park in Brooklyn. I was also able to do so because of the “strong man food” I constantly devour. The coconut water too! It takes about twenty-five dollars EC to fill up a big jug of coconut water. I walked, the sweat flowed and I smiled. When you open your eyes in Grenada, you will smile. I savor every moment. Life is short, one day I will not be here to enjoy this. Blessings from a man who constantly seeks the love that flows from our Creator and I want my friends to feel the experience. Here comes the black bird! Anthony Wendell DeRiggs
Posted on: Sat, 03 Jan 2015 01:33:35 +0000
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