Culture Box

Who is that cruel person that came in the middle of the night as I slept and stole Carifesta from under my bosom leaving me events-less, all dressed up and nowhere to go but still armed with a few tickets?

Since they were printed at an enormous cost to this government I am going to keep these tickets in my little glass case near the window sill where everything with little value is housed, like that pair of shoes my grandmother sent a few years ago. I swear those things look like an elf rejected them.

My eyes are fat, red and hurting from all the crying I have been doing since Monday when the news hit that Carifesta closed. Who would want to hurt me like this and why, oh why would they take away my heaven.

They took my eventful nights, my crazy days and even Lisa Punch. Punch was beginning to grow on me with that song of hers I just couldn’t escape. I initially hated it then I got comfortable with it and now it has been dumped from the radio, and worse, the name Punch now draws a strange reaction from people. They are running away with their ears covered if anyone so much as mentions her name.

Not sure if it’s a form of therapy but for some strange reason I keep staring at the tickets; one for the grand market at Sophia, another for the River Bottom play at the cultural centre, one for Gravity and another for the play Your Son, My Husband. Did I even go to any of these events? Oh yes, I was at Sophia (smile).

As tempting as River Bottom was, queues are not my style particularly when they involve hundreds of entertainment starved Guyanese hungry for a certain Jamaican named Oliver Samuels. Besides I had predicted the huge crowd and even pictured myself locked out of the cultural centre and fuming. It was not a good image.

But my memories from Sophia are priceless beginning with the official opening that never came off. Talk about having little respect for the general public that was following the schedule or rather those who bothered to look at it, like me (I am counting to ten right now and taking deep breaths).

Frankly I treated the schedule with more gravity than it warranted which is why I lit a little fire in my backyard before they snatched Carifesta and took pleasure in burning those schedules. Now that is therapy, free of cost and so refreshing I might just burn those tickets.

Sophia was so great that I got to see the President of our dear land rescue a damsel in distress, and no ordinary damsel I am talking about designer Olympia Small-Sonaram. It is true, Jagdeo sprung from his front-row seat at the mega fashion show on Saturday last to help Olympia up after she fell off the catwalk.

I did everything at Sophia except get intoxicated. I partied with the locals, Trinidadians, Barbadians, Jamaicans, Brazilians, Kittians and those crazy Brazilians. Almost every night was something different to do at the exhibition site.

Oh, I almost got a make-up makeover from Sacha Cosmetics but changed my mind after realizing that my budget is likely to shoot up if I get too comfortable with make-up. For now Sacha’s oil control, micro-fine loose powder will do, a little lipgloss and my faithful eyeliner.

It is going to be difficult to wait for two years and somehow save up the funds for Carifesta XI in 2010 in the Bahamas; though this incredible thought as just crossed my mind. I am going to be in the Bahamas, but hopefully as more than a spectator craving events. If they will have me I am going  as Guyana’s coordinator/ artistic director/ team leader and designated boss of the contingent because it is time someone finally gets it right. And I am prepared to start working tomorrow until the plane wings out and wings us back in. (thescene@stabroeknews.com)