The return of the dance curfew

Jul 05, 2015 Features / Columnists, My Column

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Someone once said that habits are easy to form and hard to break. I believe that, because I once smoked and smoked heavily. The first time I tried a cigarette a long time ago I was imitating the things adults did. For forty years I tried to quit and found it extremely difficult.
I picked up other habits along the way, some good and some atrocious. One of the good ones that I picked up was the habit of listening. If someone was talking to me I would shut my trap until that person was finished having his or her say. Sometimes I got into trouble just doing that. I was married back then and my wife always had something to say about my late nights and whatever else.
While she spoke I would simply remain silent. Thinking I was doing something good, I learnt that I only invoked more of her wrath. “Oh, you ain’t answering me? Well I ain’t gun stop till you answer.” I got that same response many times over. But I still try to tell people that remaining silent is the way to go. It is an excellent habit to develop.
Many a person regretted saying something in a fit of anger. Had that person kept his or her mouth shut many marriages would have been saved and even worse; many people would have been alive today.
I learnt that vanity can be dangerous so when I started to go grey I refused to make any effort to hide the fact. I remember people coming up to me and saying that I should dye the hair but I have refused. It is not that I have anything about people trying to alter their appearances.
I picked up the habit of always trying to be on time despite living in a country that seemed to have its own time. If someone said that we should meet at eight, I would be there. Sometimes I would have to wait for an interminably long time, but I maintained the habit. It stood me in good stead outside the country.
For this reason, I am exceedingly happy with what operates today when I turn up at the Ministry of the Presidency for press conferences. The one held by Joe Harmon begins at eleven. I remember Joe Harmon telling the media corps that the press conference would begin at eleven whether they are there or not.
One reporter, perhaps suffering from a carryover from the press conferences held by Dr Roger Luncheon, walked in some twenty minutes late. She has never been late again. With Dr Roger Luncheon, his press conferences were scheduled for 11:30 hours but rest assured, except for perhaps three occasions over the past decade, they would start sometimes as late as 25 minutes after the scheduled time.
There were other habits that I developed along the way. I remember my father saying to me that if I was going to go home late, when I reach the yard I should make some sounds. I didn’t understand until I became much older, not that I ever surprised anyone in my home.
I left Beterverwagting for Bartica to begin my work life. I had grown accustomed to going to the public dances, that were the order of the day, about nine o’clock. By ten, the place would be full. We used to go early because we wanted seats for our escorts. By three the following morning we were out of there, happy and tired. If by midnight the dance hardly had anyone, everyone around would know that it was a bust. The organisers did not have to seek professional advice.
When I went to Bartica I got a shock. The first night dance I went to saw me getting dressed for nine that night. There I was stepping out in my nines and heading to the Bartica Community Centre only to see an empty hall and girls on the streets with curlers in their hair. I concluded, immediately, that the dance was a flop, so I ended up in one of the rum shops and started drinking.
In those days I couldn’t really drink, so by the time the bottle had reached half way I was well into my cups. I left for home. The next day I heard people talking about this powerful dance. It turned out that the people never started to go into the dance until just before midnight. So it was that I learnt to go to dances at Bartica close to midnight.
And here I remember the story about a woman named Phil Hinds who hosted a dance at the Bartica Community Centre. Midnight came and went and hardly anyone turned up. Rebeiro, the man who played the jukebox (as opposed to the stereo systems these days) put on the Eddie Hooper classic, ‘Where are your friends now?’
Phil turned on him like a hurricane turning on a small island. “Tek that f**% thing off.” I barely remember the rest of the conversation but indeed, what is not remembered is left to the imagination.
Then I went to New York. It was a Friday night and my sisters said that we would be going to Larry’s Liquid Love that night. By then I had long left Bartica and had got back into the habit of going to the dances early. New Amsterdam was very different.
So there I was ready by nine only to find my sisters fast asleep. I thought that they had changed their minds so I tucked in. About midnight they were waking me up and asking me whether I was not going out. It was a great party.
I now see Khemraj Ramjattan reintroducing the law. Back in the days when one applied for a dance permit, the police stipulated that the dance had to end by two the following morning. The statutes have not changed.
In London there I was in a pub with my friend Arnon Adams when just before midnight the bartender rang some glasses and announced, “Last round.” That was another culture shock. I had grown accustomed to drinking until dawn if necessary. But I remember the rum shops in Bartica closing their doors at midnight back then.
People are fretting because the young people have developed the habit of going to parties around midnight. There will be a lot of anger as people are being asked to change their party habits. But as I told my friend, Nigel McKenzie, a few years down the road this new dimension would be so engrained that people would wonder if they ever sought to leave home at midnight.
I know that the waiters and bartenders would be among the happiest people with this new regulation.

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