It’s probably impossible to start with a digression – a digression means you’re departing from something that has already begun – but allow me to infuriate somebody by starting with a digression anyway (creative licence), and here it is:
I hate the term ‘remigrant’; it sounds like a concept in a sociology paper, or some species of wandering fish. It’s a clinical expression. I reject it totally. I was born in Guyana and grew to manhood in Guyana, so when I come back to Guyana to live I am simply returning home. Suppose I live here now for five years and then move to Venice (I love Italian food and Andrea Bocelli); what does that make me? A re-remigrant? It’s nonsense; ‘remigrant’ my back foot.
Now that that’s off my chest, my original intention was to note that my curiousity can sometimes take strange turns. For example, when I meet a Guyanese who has returned here to live (don’t suggest the other word) I often enquire what they brought back with them. My assumption is that I will get some intriguing answers, but instead I notice that many people appear discomfited by the question; they shift from one leg to the other, ask for the AC to be turned up, and keep looking around as if trying to pick out eavesdroppers from the GRA. Also, the answers, when they do come, are halting and disappointing; no romantic memorabilia; no nostalgic mementoes; no early photographs of Cheddi or Forbes; generally pretty dull stuff. In other words, nothing really exciting or revealing.
However, to illustrate the thinking behind my question, here’s what I brought back when I returned to live in Guyana.
A table saw, a jig saw, an electric drill, 2 sanders, a router, a circular saw, assorted screwdrivers, assorted wood chisels, an electric plane, a hand plane, assorted drills, 2 spirit levels and assorted hardware. If you’re thinking that’s an odd list for Dave Martins, let me inform you I am not just a musician. I’m essentially a West Dem Putagee, and we are all-rounders. Apart from music, I also enjoy handyman work, especially when wood is involved, and over the years I’ve acquired a decent set of tools for that purpose.
Also, I love growing fruit trees (just fruit trees, not flowers; I plant only what I can eat) so I also brought two cutlasses. One of them is the variety known as ‘a Collins,’ which is the one with the very wide blade that banana workers in the Caribbean use; works great on coconuts. The other cutlass is an unusual Jamaican design called ‘a hookie.’ Made with a wide curve at the tip, instead of pointed; it’s great for weeding as it cuts on both the push and pull stroke. I used these cutlasses in Cayman on the 2.5 acres I owned there, and if you’re a yard man they’re a joy.
Alright, I’m a musician, so my ‘come back’ list included 2 stereo speakers, a digital 24-track recorder, a stereo amplifier, two guitars, two cuatros, and a Roland guitar amplifier. There was also a Dell computer with a Sony monitor and (here comes another surprise) assorted kitchen gear including some chef knives. I told you before; I’m not just a musician. I also like to cook (providing I don’t have to cook) so I brought the knives, and a Japanese water stone my friend Terry Ferreira gave me, and a wok.
I brought back some fruit tree seedlings (mango, avocado, sapodilla, atemoya) from a nursery in Miami. Our dogs chewed up one, I gave away one, and two died, but three of the plants are doing fine, and one of the mango trees, only four feet high, is bearing already. (In case you’re getting ideas, remember, I own cutlasses.)
Apart from the occasional XM 10-year-old, I’m not into liquor so there was none of that on my list. A little bird had told me good extension cords are expensive here, so I brought two and, naturally, a bunch of CDs and DVDs I’ve collected over the years. The DVDs are mostly live concerts, a lot of classical music, but also stuff like Bela Fleck, African music, Buena Vista Club, plenty zouk, David Rudder, Bob Dylan, Marley, 3 Canal, Solomon Burke, and lots of Andrea Bocelli.
One item I had in Cayman was a beautiful Gary Thomas samaan wood carving that I had bought 25 years ago in Guyana – Ron Robinson and Gem Mahdoo had brought it to the island for me – and I had a special plywood box made for it and shipped it back with my other gear. Having that here with me, undamaged, not a scratch, means a lot.
Of course I also brought books – beacoup de libre. It’s a long list, but I must mention one by John Mordecai about the West Indies Federation (I’ve read it at least five times), one entitled TALK featuring a collection of NPR radio interviews with famous writers and performers, and, inevitably Martin Carter, and an American writer, Cormac McCarthy of All The Pretty Horses… sweet readings.
And, oh yes, although difficult to ship, I brought some paintings. I love paintings; I’m not just a… well you know… and they’re now here with me on the East Coast enjoying the breeze.
I don’t have jewellery – the one exception was a gold chain I’ve worn for years, and that got snatched a few weeks ago in Bourda Market, so what does that tell you? – so the only thing remotely like that was my Golden Arrow medal. It’s the only award I brought. When you get the Arrow, it comes in a nice little box with a ribbon, and there is also a big certificate. The certificate was signed by Forbes Burnham, so if you want to buy an original copy of the Kabaka’s signature, we could talk; after all, it’s the medal that counts, and I’m not loosing that.
I almost forgot – it’s such a small item – but I also brought a small pruning knife once owned by my father, Joseph Martins. He used it for years on his citrus farm in the Pomeroon, and it’s the only thing I have with memories of him.
Now. My thinking behind asking returnees what they brought back was to get some insights about these folks. From my list, therefore, you can see that I’m this contrary music figure (no liquor, no jewellery) who also likes to fix things and cook (the tools); that I have an attachment to certain artsy items (the paintings and the carving); that I will spend a lot of time on fruit trees but not five minutes on bougainvillea (the seedlings); that I’m a sentimental sort (the pruning knife), but that I also spend a lot of time by myself (the books and the DVDs) and I have eclectic musical tastes.
You see how my scheme works? It’s magic. The only problem is that it requires participation, so that when people clam up on me, the thing stalls; perhaps I have to loosen them up first with a couple XMs.
