The Gumbay Drum

The gumbay drum caught my attention at the Accompong Maroon Festival in January. I’d never seen a drum that was small and square and looked more like a stool than a drum.

As I was leaving the festival, I noticed a small stall with storyboards explaining how gumbay drums are made. There were also several drums on display. The gentleman inside introduced himself as the son of the master drum maker.

Gumbay drum maker's son
Son of the master drum maker
Maker of the gumbay drum
The master drum maker
Sanding the gumbay drum
Storyboard of the master drum maker

Although simple in design, the gumbay drum has several parts. The inner part of is called a baby, the outer part the frame. The top, which is usually made from the skin of the female goat, is the membrane. Maroons use the gumbay drum in their rituals and traditional ceremonies. They are also used to induce a trance state and to communicate with the ancestors.

Storyboard explaining the making of the gumbay drum
Storyboard

He explained how the drums were made — the design looked simple enough for a professional. I doubt that I would have been able to fit the pieces together as easily.  He also demonstrated the special rhythms that drummers play in the different instances when the drum is used. (Sorry, I can’t find my notes and I’ve forgotten the names of the master drum maker and his son.)

Three gumbay drums
Drums on display
Closeup of a gumbay drum
Closeup

 

This is my submission to Travel Photo Thursday, which is organized by Nancie at Budget Travelers Sandbox. Be sure to head over and check out more photos from locations around the world.

 

 

 

Travel Memories – Barcelona

Most travelers have a trip that’s so full of travel memories, they recall it over and over, like fishermen obsessing about the one that got away. I’m one of them.

My three-month stay in Barcelona was the flowering of an idea that had become planted in my mind back when I was a student in high school in rural Jamaica. Out of the blue one day, our Spanish teacher spent an entire period regaling us with her stories of her time as a student in Spain. She had us captivated, hanging on to every word of every story she told us. For days after, I kept dreaming of the Spain that I had created from her stories. In reality, however, Spain was as far away and as foreign as the moon but I saw myself there.

At Ciutadella Park
Ciutadella Park, 1977

I don’t remember how or when I found out about the semester abroad program that my university was offering but in January 1977, I was among the group of 10 that left cold and snowy Ottawa behind to study Spanish in Barcelona. During our time there, we created many happy travel memories in Sitges, Madrid, Mallorca, the Costa Brava, Montserrat, Ullastret, Vich, Villanova, Ripoll, Tarragona, Tibidabo, Perpignon, Ampurias and Andorra. Here a few that I’d like to share with you.

Travel Memories – First Impressions

Coming out of nearly 40 years of the repressive dictatorship of Generalissimo Francisco Franco, I’d imagined that Spain would have been drab and militaristic. Instead, Barcelona was vibrant and colorful — everything pulsed with life. I was enthralled by the architecture, music, art, culture and food, and Barcelona made me feel alive and in love with life.

Although we arrived in winter, there was little snow and the temperatures were much warmer than in Ottawa. Most days, I wore sweaters and shirts, occasionally a light jacket. So I was surprised to see many of the women, all fashionably dressed and wrapped up in their furs. You see, we’d also heard that salaries in Spain were lower than in Canada so it baffled us to see women so well dressed. Young Barcelonians, however, rocked jeans that were so tight, I wondered how they took a breath.

Travel Memories – The Tuna

One night, a group of us went to a tuna at the University of Barcelona. A tuna is a centuries old tradition where student musicians dress in traditional garb and serenade their audience with singing and guitar playing. After the performance that night, a few of us followed the tunas to a restaurant where their singing was backed up by tub after tub of sangria. As soon as a tub was empty, another would appear as if by magic. No doubt fueled by the wine, we joined in and sang as lustily as a church choir. I’m not sure how much sangria we had but by the time we left, we were all stepping a little lightly. Somehow we made it home safely but I could hardly move the next day.

Travel Memories – There’s Always Someone Who Understands

On a packed metro, the notion of personal space goes out the door as soon as you enter the car. We all knew about the metro and had heard stories of women being groped. Because of that, my roommate and I always walked to school but on this particular day, I don’t remember why, we took the metro. As the door pulled shut, and the other riders pressed in on me, I commented in our dialect to my roommate, who was also Jamaican, that I was being squashed. I added, jokingly, what I thought could happen if we didn’t get off soon. Of course we thought we were clever. We were in our own little world sharing a joke only we got. We hadn’t stopped laughing when a male voice responded, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” I was so embarrassed, I wanted to disappear. I don’t remember even looking back to see who it was. Luckily, ours was the next stop and as we exited, we burst into laughter. Every so often my roommate or I would do our best impressions of our potential savior and we’d laugh all over again.

Travel Memories – A Message I’ve Never Forgotten

When I joined the line at the airline office to change my return ticket (no penalty!) and buy a ticket to London, I noticed an agent whose face was as pockmarked as the surface of the moon. He must have felt me staring at him because he turned and looked directly at me. His face was expressionless, his eyes blank. I didn’t want him to assist me but as soon as the thought crossed my mind, I knew he would. As I explained what I wanted to do, he replied, You can get anything you want in the world. I’m sure he said it in response to my question, but for me, it was a message. That message, that anything I want can be mine, has never left me.

My stay in Barcelona provided many indelible travel memories. It also transformed me in ways I only understood and appreciated later.

Enjoyed this post? Be sure to check out Boomeresque for more travels down memory lane.

photo by:


angelocesare

FoodieTuesday: The Multi-Purpose Coconut

A few mornings ago, my neighbor brought me two jelly coconuts – the young coconut with meat that is translucent and soft, or sometimes pale white. Part of the husk or bark had already been removed. Although, it was only about 8 a.m., I still hadn’t had breakfast so I asked him to take off the tip so I could drink the water. It was refreshing.

Acres of coconut trees, Jamaica
A farm

As I fixed breakfast that morning, I thought about the coconut. The coconut is a multi-purpose fruit. We not only drink the water, which is full of vitamins, amino acids and electrolytes, we also eat the meat as is.

When the coconut is mature, the jelly become firm and white. It is scooped out of the husk, grated and mixed with water to make milk for cooking, and grated or diced for baking.

Coconuts on a tree
A large bunch

All of the Coconut is Used

Before electric floor polishers became popular, we polished our floors and used a brush that was made from the top part of a dry (mature) coconut to shine them.

In the rural areas of Jamaica, brooms to sweep the yard, were made from the reeds of coconut leaves. The leaf can also be plaited to make hats, baskets, etc., and the fiber from the coconut husk, called coir, is used to make mats and mattresses.

Chopping a coconut
Vendor

Coconut water low in calories and sodium, naturally fat- and cholesterol-free, and has more potassium than four bananas. It is very hydrating and is definitely better for you than sports drinks.

But that’s not all: coconut water has been used as a blood plasma substitute and it’s also been used to supply glucose. It is as effective as statin drugs that are used to manage cholesterol. No wonder celebrities and sports figures are chugging it like they do water.

And oil made from coconut is considered to be healthier than butter, trans fats and probably even animal fats.

Coconut water straight from the husk
Adding a little rum

Most families have a coconut tree or two in their backyards. If you have to buy, a medium-sized coconut costs $1-2 here.

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Croydon Plantation Jamaica

Croydon Plantation in the Catadupa Mountains of St. James, owes its reputation to pineapples and coffee, as well as its connection to national hero, Samuel Sharpe. Sharpe was born a slave in 1801 at Croydon and became a Baptist preacher. In December 1831, Sharpe organized a peaceful protest at plantations in the western end of the island that turned into the largest rebellion on the island. It took the military two weeks to end the rebellion, which by then had caused hundreds of deaths. They captured the leaders, including Sharpe, who was hanged in 1832.

 Sign at Croydon Plantation

A few months ago, a friend and I boarded the tour bus that would take us on the hour-long drive from Freeport, Montego Bay to Catadupa. Our guide kept us entertained with stories and jokes that sometimes it was easy to ignore the bumps on the windy mountain road. Note: if you get car sick easily and want to do this tour, think about riding in the back of the bus and away from the windows.

Pine and other trees at Croydon Plantation
Pine trees

At Croydon Plantation, which stretches 132 acres, we learned about the different varieties of pineapples – Ripley, Guyana, Cowboy, Sugar – that are grown there. The best part? We got to taste them.

Rows of pineapples at Croydon Plantation
Fields of pineapple

We did a lot of tasting and smelling on the walk from the coffee station, where our guide demonstrated how the beans are harvested, to the main area where we had lunch. Our tour guide pointed out jackfruits, grapefruits, star fruits, limes, sugarcane, sweetsop, and other fruits, herbs and spices.

Pineapple with new shoots, Croydon Plantation
Pineapple with new shoots
Tasting pineapples at Croydon Plantation
Tasting the pineapples

The tour ended with a delicious lunch of jerk chicken, rice and peas and salad. It was followed by a short presentation by one of the owners.

Sam Sharpe monument to Sam Sharpe
Monument to Sam Sharpe

In recognition of Sam Sharpe’s connection to Croydon Plantation, the owners have placed statues of the national hero on the grounds. Similar sculptures can also be seen in Sam Sharpe Square in Montego Bay.

 

Croydon Plantation Particulars

Tours are conducted on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays.

Cost: $70, includes the tour, lunch and roundtrip transportation. 876-979-8267.

 

For more photos from locations around the world, head over to Travel Photo Mondays, which is organized by Noel at Travel Photo Discovery.

 

 

A Few Photos from Hope Zoo Jamaica

Earlier this week, I wrote about my visit to Hope Zoo to see Lucas, the African lion that was donated to the zoo. I didn’t only see Lucas. As I made my way to his enclosure, I came across a few of the other animals that make their home at the zoo.

Hope Zoo entrance
Entrance to Hope Zoo

It was hard to miss the pink flamingos even as they appeared to be hiding behind the foliage.

Pink Flamingo at Hope Zoo
Pink Flamingo

Hope Zoo Jamaica occupies 60 acres next door to Hope Botanical Gardens in Kingston. The zoo was opened in 1961. It is currently being revitalized and new animals, like Lucas the lion and are being added to its collection, which includes macaws, tortoises, budgies, ostriches, zebras, capucin, crocodiles, and flamingos.

Snacking turtles at Hope Zoo
Snacking turtles
Crocodile at Hope Zoo
Crocodile

The day I visited, Hope Zoo was crawling with school children all smartly dressed in their uniforms. I doubt they were older than 10 or 11 years.

Students visiting Hope Zoo
Hope Zoo, a popular destination for students

Exiting Hope Zoo.

Leaving Hope Zoo
As you exit the zoo

Animals at the zoo are kept in enclosures that are surrounded by wire mesh and tropical foliage that gives a natural feel to the environment. But I had to be creative in taking photos so the mesh wasn’t too obvious.

The zoo offers  a petting area, group tours and venue rentals.

Hope Zoo Jamaica Particulars

Address: Old Hope Road, Kingston
Hours: 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday-Sunday; 10:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. on public holidays
**It’s advisable to go early, say as the zoo opens, or wait until mid-afternoon when the sun cools to get a better chance of seeing the animals.

Current Entrance Fees: $5 (adults); $3 children aged 3-12; free for children under 2
**Prices are expected to increase now that Lucas the lion has arrived

Newcastle Jamaica

Newcastle was established by the British as a military center in 1840. It is now used as a training camp for soldiers and recruits of the Jamaica Defence Force (JDF).

The location, in the Blue and John Crow Mountains National Park, was chosen by Major General Sir William Gomm, the lieutenant governor of Jamaica at the time, who noted that yellow fever, a major cause of death among British troops, occurred less frequently in the cool of the mountains. And it does get cool. It’s about 10-15 degrees cooler than in most of the island and there’s sometimes snow and ice in the higher elevations in the winter months.

Newcastle parade square with medals
Parade square at Newcastle
Barracks for soldiers at Newcastle
Red roofed barracks at Newcastle station

Newcastle has a parade ground, named for the major general, barracks, a cemetery, and several buildings. A sentry is usually posted at the entrance and as the main road, from Kingston to points east, goes through the parade ground, you’re likely the company doing their normal activities. One morning, it was recruits being put through their paces, another day, the national netball team was in training.

Life at Newcastle isn’t meant to be easy for recruits and soldiers. I’ve read that back when the British troops used it as a base, they would march the 12 or so miles from Kingston, which is at sea level, 4,000 feet up the winding mountain road – with their gear.

Parade ground at Newcastle
Part of the Sir Wm. Gomm parade square

Vehicles arriving from Kingston enter the square here and pass through the compound to Holywell Park and other points east, like Portland.

Cemetery at Newcastle
Newcastle cemetery with gravestones dating to the 1800s

I plan to return to Newcastle when I can do the climb as I’d love to see more of it and from other angles.

This is my submission to Travel Photo Thursday, which is organized by Nancie at Budget Travelers Sandbox. Be sure to head over and check out more photos from locations around the world.

 

 

 

Lucas the Lion Finds a Home at Hope Zoo

Lucas the lion was the talk of the town last week. The four year old African lion arrived at Hope Zoo in Kingston the week before from his home at the Monterey Zoo.

Many of the animals at Monterey are trained to perform in Hollywood. Lucas, apparently, was too “aggressive” to be trained but instead of keeping him at the zoo as is the normal practice, Charlie Sammut, his former owner, donated him to Hope. Sammut, who was seen with zoo officials near Lucas’ enclosure the day I visited, is helping the lion settle into his new home.

When I heard that Lucas had been described as aggressive, I said to myself, he’d fit right into Jamaica. As a side note, the previous lion at Hope was named Scrappy but I’m not sure if he was called that because it described his personality.

Lucas was on his side, when I arrived, his back to the world, quite oblivious to the hubbub that was going on just beyond the fence of his home, which was decked out in yellow ‘caution’ tape. As I joined the small knot of children and adults, a zoo employee standing near the cage announced that Lucas was sleeping. I noticed then that everyone was staring straight ahead, as if willing Lucas to wake up.

Lucas the lion at Hope Zoo
Lucas waking up after his nap

“Lucas sleeping?” a boy asked.

Before the employee could reply, someone put in words the thought in head, “It must be the heat.”

It was about 86 F but felt more like 100 F, even in the shade.

“Yes,” she replied. “Just think about how you’d react if you went to London in the winter. You’d need time to adjust to the cold, right?”

“Yes, Miss,” a little voice replied sheepishly.

Just then, a group of about twenty chattering and excited school children, no more than 9 years old, approached. They walked in an orderly line two by two, each boy’s hand loosely holding a girl’s, their teacher walking behind them.

As they neared the enclosure, the zoo employee put her index finger to her lips.”Shhhh, Lucas is sleeping.”

Lucas the lion settling in at Hope Zoo
Getting used to his new home and climate

“But he should know heat, he’s from California,” someone shouted bringing us back to the original exchange.

“Well,” the employee started out slowly as if searching for the right words to appease the disconcerted group, “the climate where Lucas was is very different from here. He traveled several hours in a cage and needs time to adjust to our climate. He needs to sleep so he can be active when you come to see him.”

“What you mean adjust?” a woman asked roughly. “I come all the way from St. Elizabeth (about a 3 hour drive) and he sleeping? Wake him up! Luuu-cas!”

“Please don’t wake the lion, Ma’am. He needs to rest.”

“Lucas need company,” a man said emphatically. The woman he was with glared at him. “No, is true. If him get a female, him will liven up.”

The kids, disappointment written all over their faces, walked away. Soon, there was only the employee and me. We chatted for a little then she moved closer and whispered conspiratorially, “Lucas got a cut from the cage and it was infected so we tranquilized him to take care of it. That’s why he’s sleeping.”

As we talked, I noticed Lucas’ tail flick. He moved his head, then pulled himself up slowly to rest on his front paws.

A few children who were nearby saw him and hurried to the fence. One of the women who’d been in the group also saw and moved quickly to take up a position, her little boy in tow. “Don’t pass the crime scene tape,” I heard her say to him.

We watched Lucas come to life. He looked around, shook his head as if to dislodge something from his thick mane then looked off in the distance, not even acknowledging us. Yes, I thought to myself as I walked away. He’s perfect for Jamaica. He’s already acting like our politicians.

 

 

FoodieTuesday: A Traditional Breakfast in Jamaica

In Jamaica, a traditional breakfast, sometimes called a country breakfast, is substantial. It usually includes some of the following: green bananas, Johnny Cakes also known as fried dumplings, roasted or fry-roasted breadfruit, fried plantains, bammie (a flat bread made from cassava), and yam and either ackee and saltfish, saltfish and callaloo, mackerel, fried fish, pork, or liver.

Green bananas, Johnny cakes, ackee, callaloo for FoodieTuesday
Traditional Breakfast offered at a special tour of Appleton Estate

A traditional breakfast in Jamaica can sometimes mean porridge made from bananas, cornmeal, plantains, oats.

This particular traditional breakfast included green bananas (on the left, they don’t look green though), dumplings (the two round items on the right), callaloo (green, from the spinach family), ackee and saltfish (yellow), and mackerel (between the bananas and the ackee).

Of course, a traditional breakfast such as this takes time to prepare so nowadays it’s more often done on weekends or purchased from restaurants and cookshops. And a breakfast like this will stay with you all day.

 

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Walking in Nelson Mandela’s Footsteps

I’ve never been interested in meeting famous people but I would have given a vital body part to have met Nelson Mandela or failing that, hear him speak in person.

Mandela photo at Victor Verser Prison
Photo of Mandela on a banner at Victor Verser Prison

The closest I’ve come is a visit to a few of the places that will always be connected to him and to his “ideal of a democratic and free society” for which he declared in 1964, that he was “prepared to die.”

Mandela statue with raised fist
Mandela statue outside Victor Verser Prison

“During my lifetime I have dedicated myself to this struggle of the African people. I have fought against white domination, and I have fought against black domination. I have cherished the ideal of a democratic and free society in which all persons live together in harmony and with equal opportunities. It is an ideal which I hope to live for and to achieve. But if needs be, it is an ideal for which I am prepared to die.”

–Excerpted from Nelson Mandela’s statement from the dock at the opening of his trial on charges of sabotage, Supreme Court of South Africa, Pretoria, April 20 1964.

We don’t hear anyone anymore state so openly that they are prepared to die for their beliefs – and mean it. So many of us are motivated more by money than by our beliefs. People like Mandela could be a dying breed.

I don’t remember how old I was when I became aware of Nelson Mandela. But I lived in a country that in 1950, before I was even born, had called for a ban on imports from South Africa as a way of protesting the “segregation policy” that was adopted by the government in 1948.

And by 1957, before Jamaica had even gained her own independence from Britain, the government had banned all trade with South Africa, becoming the first country to do so.

I don’t remember when I became aware of Mandela but his commitment to his ideal made me feel deep respect and pride in being black. The rest of us play at being courageous, fearless and principled. Mandela embodied it. He was our hero and we embraced him as if he had been born on Jamaican soil.

At university in Canada, I got involved in fundraising, attended lectures when speakers were able to get out, and educated myself about the ‘struggle.’ My cohorts and I knew the activists and in our discussions, referred to them by their first names – Walter (Sisulu), Oliver (Tambo), Joe (Slovo), Steve (Biko), Chris (Hani), Robert (Sobukwe), Hector (Pieterson), Nelson and Winnie. We carried passbooks, the identification card that black South Africans were required to carry when they ventured outside their homelands, and words like intransigent, which was used to describe the apartheid regime, became part of the vocabulary of the struggle.

Mandela's cell at Robben Island
Mandela’s Robben Island cell

By the time I moved to Washington, DC, the boycott of South Africa had picked up steam as celebrities showed up daily to be arrested.

Like the fall of the Berlin Wall, I never believed I’d live to see apartheid dismantled and Mandela released from jail. My heart filled with pride when I saw him raise his clenched fist as he exited Victor Verser Prison with Winnie.

Nelson Mandela’s Cell at Robben Island

Several times during the ferry ride to Robben Island, I swallowed lumps in my throat. I didn’t want to cry. Despite the efforts of our jovial tour guide, an older South African woman sitting in a seat across the aisle from me wept openly as our bus neared the prison. When we saw the house where Robert Sobukwe was confined in solitary and away from the general population, I fought back tears.

As my friends and I arrived at the cell where Mandela spent 18 years, the words of Bob Marley’s song, Duppy Conquerer, floated into my head.

The bars could not hold me / Force could not control me, now / They try to keep me down / But Jah put I around / Yes, I’ve been accused (many times) / And wrongly abused, now / But through the powers of the most-high / They’ve got to turn me loose.

We felt rooted to a spot just outside Mandela’s cell. I remember staring at the place on the floor where Madiba would have slept on a few blankets for all those years and felt a wave of anger bubbling up inside me.

Mandela's bed at Robben Island
Cold ground was my bed last night – Bob Marley

How could we treat each other so horribly?

That Mandela held no bitterness is a testament to the person he is. But it wasn’t just Mandela. Our guide, a former prisoner at Robben Island, also held no rancor. His face was serene, his voice soft with no hint of bitterness. When I asked why he came back to a place so horrific, he said he and other former prisoners wanted to tell their story. At the end of the tour, I reached for his hand to thank him but my words dissolved into tears as the years of hurt and pain locked in those grey walls came rushing out. I sobbed uncontrollably.

Watching and Waiting. Time to Let Mandela Go

For days now, I’ve been watching the news anxious for any tidbit of information on Madiba’s condition, torn between wanting him to pull through to celebrate one last birthday (his 95th) and accepting that it’s time now for us to let him go.

Years of unspeakable hardships – physical, emotional, psychological – have taken their toll. Nelson Mandela has done his part. It’s time for him to rest and for those who remain to carry on his legacy.

When the news reported that Mandela was in critical condition, I emailed my friends who visited Soweto, Robben Island, and Victor Verser Prison with me. One wrote back that she was “happy to have walked in Mandela’s footsteps.” So am I.