KHAKI-BOW-TIE MASHRAMANI                            01 28 2012


One of the great joys of being Guyanese is we get a second  last chance in February, Black History month or  at Mashramani/Republic celebrations, to put on a khaki bow tie and do-a-do-doo;  a lil mambo, a lil  chutney, a taste and buy, a lil back-back or a plain old Tennessee waltz with your boo or boo-boo.  Guyanese don’t mind how things bad; don’t mind the weather forecast and the accumulation of snow on the ground, they coming out to play.  They may skip the Valentine but the Mashramani, is wee.

Guyanese also like a fresh; a fresh outfit; a fresh meal; a fresh partner and if available, a fresh cold.  We would borrow, steal, work overtime or even work over just to make a freck to procure a khaki-bow-tie;  Sunday we go to church and ask Gentle Jesus to bless us in our broken/drunken and horrific state and pray for the rest of the year until the next-next time.  We forgive without getting vex and reboot and come again.  No pressure can keep us down; we love to party in a khaki-bow-tie.  Half a loaf is better than none.

Mashramani is a time to come together and celebrate after a co-operative effort; you have money you spend, you don’t have money you still spend.  Gentle Jesus has a habit of taking care of the drunk and the children; we can be both at the same time.  No other race, no other peoples have it this good.  This is a grand time to the black but be reminded that it comes with responsibilities and response abilities.  Sometimes you have to put away the khaki-bow-tie and simply roll your sleeves up.  Work is for working people; produce or perish.

It is always a nice thing, a glorious thing for one day only to see grown-ass men trying to center up and align themselves with Doris, Bowgee and “Brown Skin Betty”.  Dem country gal does prepare their skin (roti) and put some dye on a mascobee and christen it duck curry.  Big band, brass band, conga band, one man band, Steelband and masquerade band does jam a centipede jam but this year GT will slow down and pay tribute to the bow-tie-man – Godfrey Chin – who died a  vivid  fortnight ago.

Mash really and truly should begin and end in Linden.  In the beginning, 1970, it was so.  It is a wee-ting but we need more laws, more medicines, and more distractions to see the good in some sectors of the society. Every person, every community is as good as or worthy to celebrate.  For too long Linden has been violated and it is about time there is some type of indulgence or a paltry bow tie so that they can keep up appearances.

GT-types are excellent in playing mass with somebody else bow tie on; we like  tek from he and give she and tek it back and smile and give another body.  GT is king pin fuh dat;  we also like to  do the guinea bird ting…lay in the country and cackle in the town.  We got two personality one for Burnham and the next one fuh Cheddie.

Right now the clean-up start; the President tek off he khaki-bow-tie and link arms with Mayor Hammie to get the grease and grime out of the city.

The khaki-bow-tie politicians and comrades are also looking at the nuances and nuisances affecting the homeless and the street dwellers.  People are not homeless like how they are broke. Give these folks jobs and they will find a home.

Mashramani is a good time – a nice time to start over again.   Looking at the past and trying to emulate past leaders is not the best thing.  Coming together, talking, breaking bread …cassava bread and drinking queriman braff or swank can be a good first step.

This writer loves a wine down and a come up slow but it does not solve or resolve anything.  Pretending all is well and garnering secrets, gives disease and creates distrust.  Money does so much but a mutual understanding and communication does more.

Less pussy-footing and more compromising will go a long way in  aborting the trust deficit and cherry-picking thugs and holding them up as symbols  and emblems of success is in poor taste.

This mash permit Mashramani to be a smashing hit; let the people do their do chutney style and let the khaki-bow-tie types simmer in their air conditioned Prados and Pradovilles.  Amen.

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