NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS IN THE PRV

BILL THE CROONER NEWMAN – MY DEAR

NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS IN THE PRV

By  EWALT AINSWORTH                 05 24 2013

First things first:   A little known history fact…King Fighter…Shurland Wilson is a Victorian…born and raised.

The traditional annual breakfast of the PRV…PEOPLE’S REPUBLIC OF VICTORIA normally held this time of year…give and take a few days, has been pushed back for the first time to CARIBANNA weekend in August.

The organizing committee has problems finding the ingredients….the roti with the elephant on the package and items that promote nocturnal emissions.    The PRV is also burying comrades ….an average of a baker’s dozen each month and nocturnal emissions are simply not keeping up.

The funerals of   TAPS, WIA, LIL-BOB, ALIKI-BOB and some  significant other  suskaskies…(statistics)  have influenced sincerely  the roll-back of the dates.  The exchange rate in Canada is one-fuh-one; shopkeepers are not taking credit cards and so this alternative date is a win-win.  ASOMELYKAM.  

But have faith;  the new  CARIBANA week end delight promises grit and grits;  lead for the pencils for those who subscribe wholeheartedly to nocturnal emissions.

Jeggae, a visible organizer for the salt-fish and bake wash down with mauby and loud ice, in an invited comment suggested that in an attempt to capture a wider audience and participation especially from folks coming in from London and the Caribbean, the organizing committee had to make some “slight adjustments.”

And instead of catering for two hundred, the mid morning affair will be doubled in more ways than one.  There will be a wider selection of entertainers, more food, more drinks and more space at affordable prices.  So much for that.

And this weekend in the land that gave us all birth the IQ-592 republic is celebrating 47 years as an independent nation.  Some say that one of the biggest mistakes that President Burnham made when he converted the British colony into a self sufficient and self administered nation was to put the symbolic feathers atop the coat-of-arms.  Since then Amerinidans start having blood pressure, arthritis, sungu and wearing spectacles.  These days Amerindians, especially in coastal regions, do not eat cassava  bread…they having rye and bagles.

Many Amerindians do not drink piwari kashash anymore;  is strictly  HENESSY and  HEINEKEN.  Amerindians too do not use stick or leaves in the bathroom …is double-ply colored tissues.  Take that fuh yuh fastness.

Back in 1966 Guyana was not as divided as it is today.  The Post Office used to be the most important center of influence.  The post office used to be a bank and the post master had to sign off on the reputation of upwardly mobile citizens who wanted to join the police force, become a teacher or even move on to higher learning.

Young men, especially in those days, worked as apprentices in the post office…many times using the experience as a testimonial for both literacy and upward mobility.  Postmen invariably were able to multi-task…meaning marry into reputable families because of access.

In that independence era able bodied men were forced to go away for employment as loggers, gold diggers, carpenters and other artisans.  The three tier saucepan was a hall mark of every ambitious person and the bicycle was a status symbol.. and when you had your own bicycle pump, more power to you.  Some men even used to put air freshener on their bicycles.

Men like Bonkia, Chatter, Tobinm, Fenton Reece, Took-Away and dem never used their bicycles for pleasure.
The bicycle was only used for work.  And if the bicycle was brought out for any reason  any odd time, there was a family emergency of some sort and none of the people with cars were willing to step down and step up to the plate.

This writer was just starting to pea straight when the country became independent as distinct from inner dependence.  Teacher Constance, who at the time was my advocate and care giver, once revealed as I made the transition from the estates of Cove and John to the PRV that I was “experiencing nocturnal emissions.”

The young men in the PRV used to walk bare foot and wear  flour-bag buckter.  GAM was the baker.  Nice…an Indian man from Non Pariel was the official carrier +taxi, and Big Bob…Shanghai who is still alive and operates out of Paradise, was a close runner up and fierce competitor in moving people.  It was not unusual to see a hire car meant for six, hauling 22.

Shanghai was also a Steelband man in the PRV.  Jeggae who lived a spit from the panyard, got his start as a musician playing pan….a little known history fact.

During that era too, Daniel Barlow created history.  One morning he dropped his girlfriend off at the Belfield Train Station and put her on the ten-o’clock train.  And when she arrived at the Kitty train station 20 minutes later, Daniel was there with his wooden bar on the ladies  HERCULES three speeds  bicycle.

KEY-WEST was a cultural carton in his own right.

Key West apparently was a passenger on the mid afternoon…QUEEN ELIZABETH bus…a homemade wooden structure dyed blue inside and outside.  The May/June rains were prolific and the bus got stuck in a pot hole.  Key West apparently had something they used to call ‘tizzick’ and took his own discharge from the bus and started walking west towards Victoria from Hope.

Once he arrived, he stopped in at Mr. Barlow’s shop for a snack.  The quorum questioned his whereabouts as he shivered in a wet outfit.  The long and short he told the assembled big men his right name…something something Waldron and his calamity on a stuck bus.  The men advised him that there were Waldrons in the village and advised that he check them out for a change of clothing and something warm.

And once he got to the Belfield road citadel, it was abandoned.  Key West took the initiative to install himself in the abandoned house, thus making himself a permanent fixture until his death a few short years ago.  BUCKTER, ONE OF THE OLDER SONS OF THE ORIGINAL Waldrons…now blind and retired from GEC lives in the house in its original shape and form.

There was also Carlow Jenkins….a donkey cart one foot hustler from neighbouring Nabaclis.  The first Saturday in June, as Independence celebrations tailed off, he was hit by a Corentyne car early one morning.  Carlow was hospitalized with extreme wounds to his good foot.  The Indian driver hustled him to the hospital and offered Carlow some stiff  MALALLIS for his injuries.  Carlow refused claiming he does not work for more than eight dollars a day.  A malalli was the new currency in Gt and had a face value of twenty dollars.

Forty seven years of independence has put Guyana in a cultural deficit.  There is little or no communication between and among the peoples.  Nocturnal emissions, in today’s society, seem to be holding center stage and center page.  Perhaps commonsense should be an ambitious program to be pursued.

KING FIGHTER – LIVE IN 1998

BIG  RED  –  WUCKING IT

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