Guyanese and our Bahamian Connection (Part 1)

May 18, 2014 News

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Countryman – Stories about life, in and out of Guyana, from a Guyanese perspective
                            
By Dennis Nichols
Guyana and The Bahamas – located at the extreme North and South of the Caribbean, and separated by nearly 3000 kilometres of Caribbean Sea, appear to have little in common, although both are Caricom family members. What natives of these two countries know about each other, may be thought of to be largely incidental, that is until one actually visits the Bahamas and steps into almost any of its schools on the two dozen or so inhabited islands (that’s out of 700) from Grand Bahama in the north-west to Inagua in the south-east.

You’ll soon discover that in general, Bahamians appear to know more about us than we do about them. This being the case, maybe we should learn a little more about our farthest regional neighbour, and how they relate to us.
When I left Guyana for The Bahamas with my wife and two youngest children in 2002, we were in the grip of a murderous crime wave, in the wake of the jailbreak in Georgetown, and The Bahamas, in need of expatriate teachers with its paradise-perfect image, and an exchange rate of one- to-one with the U.S. dollar, seemed a welcome respite. I knew I’d miss the rest of my family, but I was becoming sickened by the bloody violence. Furthermore I felt that I would not be caught in the melancholic grip of homesickness, since I had heard that there were several Guyanese teachers in that country.
Several (meaning a few score to me) turned out to be a welcome understatement. There were several hundreds. In fact, during the eleven years I spent there, I was not aware of a single school without at least one Guyanese teacher, and in some instances they comprised up to 50% of the teaching staff; in fact my first school, intriguingly named Rum Cay All-Age School, had had only Guyanese teachers for the last ten years prior to my arrival there as principal. One of the schools at which I later taught on the island of Andros, had twelve Guyanese teachers out of a complement of twenty-five teaching staff.
From what I have observed, Guyanese nationals in The Bahamas are generally accepted as somewhat alien but gainful contributors to Bahamian society, none more so than teachers. And there are also several prominent Guyanese who have made, or are making, their mark in other areas, among them former Police Chief Inspector, Reginald Dumont, the husband of former Bahamian Governor General, Dame Ivy Dumont; Justice of the Supreme Court, Carolita Bethell;  and actress, Rhona Fox, whose parents were both teachers. In addition, several Guyanese teachers and students have been honoured for their achievements and contributions to academic excellence in their respective niches.
Living and working in The Bahamas has given me the opportunity to look at some aspects of the Bahamian character, and compare it to that of the typical Guyanese; in doing so, there were a number of surprises. Somehow I’d had the impression that Bahamians were mostly quiet, somewhat provincial in their outlook, and overly deferential to tourists, the country’s main financial benefactors, so to speak. Well, some are like that, but most I found out were talkative, (‘garrulous’ may be more appropriate) very cosmopolitan in their outlook, assuredly happy with the development of their country and culture, and although often deferential to tourists, nevertheless maintaining a demeanour that demands, and receives, respect. Had I understood their history and culture, I would have known.
Many Bahamians I met seemed inordinately proud of their ‘Bahamian-ness’. And why not? The country has a standard of living that is arguably the highest in the region. It is developing relatively quickly, and has a solid infrastructural base of communication, transportation and other amenities. It has a colourful, if somewhat dangerously-romantic, history (think piracy) a stable political environment, an economy that thrives despite an obvious lack of natural resources, and a capital that, for the most part, is aesthetically pleasing to the senses. This is not to negate the social and other problems the country faces (crime, drugs, unemployment) but to show its progress in spite of these ills.

Recent Bahamian history, which began over 500 years ago with Columbus’ San Salvador berthing in the so-called New World, included the enslavement and subsequent decimation of the native Lucayans (Arawaks), the arrival of the Eleutheran Adventurers, the first English/American settlers, the ‘golden’ age of privateering and piracy, the arrival of loyalists (with their slaves) following the American Revolution, the economic windfall from blockade-running during the American Civil War and from Prohibition, the collapse of the sponge industry, the emergence of tourism and offshore banking, Black majority rule, and full independence from Great Britain in 1973.
You can no doubt already see some differences between The Bahamas’ past, and Guyana’s, and indeed with that of most of the other Caribbean islands. Although a former British colony, it is more closely linked geographically and historically to America, and collaterally, to its culture. In dress, in food, in religion, in sport, in music, and in entertainment, American influence is discernible; even in physical appearance some of the ‘bigger’ Bahamians may be mistaken for Americans. Yet, somewhat paradoxically, an essential persona emerges as you get to know them more intimately. Bahamian vernacular, Junkanoo, (a Carnival equivalent) Rake-and-Scrape folk music and Conch (their national food) are all part of this ‘Bahamian thing’.
For most of us, Guyanese, working and living in The Bahamas entails an unavoidable comparison with our Caricom siblings. As I observed before, Guyanese are generally well-thought of by Bahamians, unlike some other expatriates/immigrants, among whom Haitians, and to a lesser extent, Jamaicans may be the most frowned upon, because of their perceived penchant for breaking the law, even when it is said of them jokingly. But because most Guyanese there are teachers, and are seen as less irksome, we seem to enjoy a fairly high degree of acceptance, or at least, tolerance; however it isn’t a thing that sits well with some Guyanese and other expatriates, constituting a sort of amiable alienation which some ‘expats’ feel more keenly than others, and which invites the kind of comparison just referred to.

Guyanese, by nature, are quite affable and accommodating to one another and to foreigners; intelligent and critical thinkers, and when abroad, adaptable to foreign circumstance, negative or otherwise. But right here in Guyana, we now seem to be suffering from a deathly malaise in the face of serious social, economic and political vexations that have our neighbours baffled to the point of contempt.  Inquisitive Bahamians and Jamaicans have asked me on several occasions what is the reason for Guyana’s political and economic decline, and why we ‘put up with the nonsense’ as we do. I admit I never have a plausible response.  Even Guyanese would blurt out, “you t’ink dis could’a happen in Jamaica (or Trinidad) and I may add, “Or The Bahamas?” The perception being that in these nations there are fighters and people who are prepared to die for their country’s integrity and freedom. Draw the logical conclusion.
Apart from the wealthy, the politically well-connected and a few decent and militant voices, we seem to be slowly devolving as a nation, into apathy and resignation on one hand, and crime and vulgarity on the other. Granted that the same can be said of other Caribbean nations, including The Bahamas, but here, it just seems more extreme, more debilitating, and open to more ridicule. In the face of national crises, and a garbage-strewn capital city with oddly-functioning traffic lights, humour may be a kind saving grace.
A few weeks ago, while travelling in a minibus on Regent Street in the midst of frustrating traffic congestion, a relatively young female passenger was heard to exclaim plaintively, after a good old Guyanese suck-teeth, “Put me off at the next traffic jam!” The tone of her voice suggested much more than the actual words, and I felt for her, as the vehicle had progressed only about half a block in more than five minutes. I call episodes like this an OIG (Only in Guyana) moment. They have been increasing these past few years.

In The Bahamian capital, Nassau, cruise ships berth regularly and majestically, the traffic lights work most of the time, and despite severe congestion, drivers, with the honk of a horn or the flash of a headlight, will often allow you to cut in line. A burly policeman will courteously and authoritatively assist you in almost any plight, politicians fist-thump and argue heatedly across the opposition divide in parliament then have a drink together afterward; polished and professional-looking women drive expensive-looking vehicles; tourists flirt and flaunt with financial abandon along Bay Street and across the way on Paradise Island.
Fact or fancy? It may depend on what kind of yardstick you use to measure wealth and progress, and from my point of view, whether you’re a Bahamian or a Guyanese.
(Next week: Behind the Bahamian and Guyanese façades!)

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