Story # 8 “Singing the Thieves Away”
Rivision #1 11/08/13

"Acknowledging  and putting to good use the challenges our parents endured for their children's sake...priceless"   George Nandan 

To present this short story with some sort of clarity, allow me to bring you up to date on my First Hero, my Dad. Dad was born in No. 79 Village, Corentyne Berbice. At the tender age of 9 years old his parents brought him and his elder brother to live in Meten-Meer-Zorg, West Coast Demerara. Grandfather died very young and left him under the care of his elder brother and my Grandma. As you will see Dad is the original Trailblazer in the family. I am very grateful to inherit such amazing hereditary traits and tendencies from both my parents. In my previous short stories I mentioned that Mom is one of the “Original Chutney Aunties-Drummer” of the Sixties and Seventies of the bygone era of Canal No. 2.

As a young boy, Dad never had the opportunity to go to school. But that is no excuse for his relentless pursuit of happiness. One thing for sure, back in the days Dad loved pretty girls, and when he was introduced to Mom, he could not resist this premium fair skinned and simplistic Bachelor’s Adventure, East Coast Demerara beauty.

Dad upon learning Mom’s tragic loss of her parents married her and brought her to live in a place called “Jagoo Backdam.” There my first four siblings were born. Because of her lack of education also, Mom somehow bore the brunt of male denomination and convinced Dad to migrate to a place called Canal No. 2 where a legendary Headmaster by the name of “Teacher Budhoo” was in charge of educating Canal’s students.  Kawall Primary School has a long memorable history and its reputation was known throughout the country at the time. 

                                                                 

                                     2013: Dad with his Bachelors Adventure Chick...

                         Mom. Together 62 years and counting...

Despite his elder, relatives  and friends' objections in relocating to Canal No. 2, Dad made the choice to stand by Mom and put educating his children a priority. By now you may know that he is a Pioneer and enjoys any challenge life throws at him. When they came to Canal No. 2 in 1964. They had to start from nothing, literally. Knowing nothing about my Dad’s boyhood skills, the village laughed at him when he started to circumvent our long of mostly swampland into ‘Fertile Soil” suitable for planting. Back then his “drainage” system and burying “Jamoon Tree Wood” to create Canal No. 2's first successful “Trailer Track” in swampland became the stuff that only dreams are made off. He continued to defy the odds by producing “Sugar Cane” along with ground provisions, legumes, fruits, etc, year after year.

Anyway, now that you have the backdrop to this story, let’s get to it, shall we? This particular time of year prior to sugar cane harvesting. Dad would also have specific crops growing at specific intervals between his sugar cane crop and would even alternate between them also. This time it would be beans, bell yams and eddoes. Black eyes peas, bora (bodi) to be specific. Now we had a towering spice mango tree among others in our backyard. After school it is my favorite tree to climb and pick mangoes. I could see over all the houses and far into the Backdam. As a kid it’s very dangerous with the breeze up there but I inherited the adventurous spirit, didn’t I?

On one particular afternoon, I did my usual after school preparation of mango snack. I have to take my two bulls to take to the Backdam to graze. Now my chores were like the Never Ending Story. It was chores, chores and if you call within the next 30 minutes, more chores!  My elder brother Lull was in charge of supplying “Fireside Wood” but he would abscond his duties and it was up to me to stock up. Boy, I tell you if you ask him now he would certainly deny it and claim he does not remember. In my teenage years my bro-in-law Chico would help me out with the Firewood chores. Did I mention that I had to water my Dad’s vegetable garden before school and when the sun goes down?My two sisters Indie and Seerie who were younger than me would often help me.

So back to my story, I untied my two bulls as you may recall Tarzan and Whitestar, called on Rover my dog, and proceeded on the trailer track to graze at the Backdam. I grabbed one of my watering plastic buckets so that on my way home I would bring back some cow dung for my sister eldest Chan’s flower garden. She never seem to stop bugging me to steal Dad’s manure and lime for her flower garden always. By now you know I not only sing but can play drum on anything that makes a sound so hence the plastic bucket.

Dad felt disrespected when people started stealing his crops. If anyone knows my Dad he is a very generous soul. He would not mind people putting their pride aside and ask him for his produce. After all how much bell yam, black-eyes peas and eddoes can we eat? Even Mom could not keep up selling them at her stand at Vreed-en-Hoop. So on we went the bulls and I. I got started doing my usual, singing a lineup of Bollywood songs while playing a nice rhythm on my bucket.

Rover as usual would proceed ahead of us and I was too caught up with my act that I did not notice he stopped and was wagging his tail. Apparently he sniffed out something that did not made him bark but excited. I and the bulls were merrily strolling down our trailer track when all of a sudden; Dad came out from out of our sugar cane field with the look of betrayal on his face,

“Waa yuh du Bai,” he blurted out angrily. (What are you doing son?}

“Yuh sing de thief man dem away” he snarled at me. (The thieves will hear you singing and make their get-away.)

 I was so startled and embarrassed (busted) because many times he warned me to be quiet when I graze the bulls so that I could catch the thieves in the act. I had no idea that he came home early from Wales estate and was hiding to see who was stealing his crops.

Honestly, that was my plan, to let the thieves hear me and make their get-away. I will be too embarrassed to face whoever is doing it anyway and my Dad could sense this. After calming down he said he would have confronted them and take whatever they were stealing himself and give it to them in at their home and anytime they want, they can ask him first. Dad to this day is a man of Principle and still my Hero.  

Never the less, he relieved me of my bucket so I was left to carry on singing without my instrument. I was happy when he took off for home and selected some nice sugar cane with my cutlass. After all my two pieces of sticks I used as drumsticks were waiting for me on my tall favorite Jamoon tree in the swamp anyway so it was just a bump in the road for me.

There are many instances where I was embarrassed for singing by individuals or for trying to sing. I would never succumb to the notion that people can dictate my life.

Dad is a pioneer and in honoring both him and my Mom, I too chose not to take the ‘Path of Least Resistance” by redoing Bollywood Melodies but rather make my own, good, bad or ugly, it’s mine. After all I am my Father’s Image…….

   

Me (GED) pursuing my BSN (Bachelors in Nursing)

    Truth be told. Parents only want their Kids and their descendants to be independent and happy. To achieve this we need to be lifelong learners and never give up in improving our socioeconomic status. Until next time I shall see ya...................On the interim usual please excuse my grammatical mistakes...