Guyana Marriott hotel protest today @ 930am

Me & a whole lotta yall gone geh moe wrang when ah doan see yall out deh
The devil is real
Jagdeo, brassington, ashni, the PPP

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black woman & child

Another Ati going around the town of Kalibo in...

Ati woman, Panay, Philipines - Image via Wikipedia

i’ve been chanelling oprah for two and a half decades, but i’ve never been a black woman.
i’ve been called a ‘oman seventeen, eighteen, nineteen times. no wait. more. a lot more.
some of my best friends are black women and i can proudly say that and my mother has been a black woman for a good while now.
they does seh all black peoples is the same. you know who they is. don’t play like you doan know. but you see, i doan know nuttin bout that. i do know one thing in particularly about black women. when one about to start beating a child, the sequence of events are the same ev’rywhere i’ve been.
it’s mind boggling. it’s almost like…like they all think alike.

a woman climbs down the hill with a baby in her arms cradled against her bosom carefully navigating the gravel path. down the ravine and into the rock-bed of the stream.
a little girl about five years old trails the woman. she’s kicking up a storm, screaming and hollering the whole way down.
you cant make out the words, but the mother occasionally turns and says something to the little girl then continues on.
you could just imagine the conversation is going a lil something like this. and these are universally accepted scientific principles. trust me on this.
hello what you crying for? climbing down the hill.
girl don’t cry cry in meh ears if you gonna come with me. down the ravine.
girl what’s your damn problem? don’t get me vex. into the rock-bed of the stream. deep breathing exercises. tend to the baby in her arms.
ah done tell yuh a’ready. yuh hear me? preparation to climb up the rock wall and pass through the space that leads back up the hill on the other side of the stream. this leads to the trail that will take you to the main road that leads into town.

before your average black woman reaches her breaking point and starts beating a child, she will say one of the following things, sometimes all, in a semi-conscious, rhythmic, rage-like state.
i didn’t tell you stop cry? and/or
look! i tired an’ i don’t want hear nothing right now. and/or
like you want i give you something to cry for? eh? and/or
galang and cry to yuh father i ain’ able wid dis shit today. and/or
ah seh ah doan waan hear no noise in meh ears dis early in de mornin. yuh hear me? good. and/or
you hear wuh i jus seh? and/or
ah gon give you something fuh cry fuh. come hey!
at this point a very high pitched shriek is usually followed by ow mommy doan beat me ah gon stop cry or one of its equivalents. followed by halting sniffles and silent hyperventilating.

i didn’t see the woman put the child on the ground. i’d taken my eyes off the unfolding action to move a plant. i just heard the branches breaking.
when i picked back up the action, the mother was attacking a pile of dead breadfruit tree branches. she found her weapon, did a looping 180 degree turn and met the little girl as she hauled herself halfway up the rock wall still screaming and hollering.
they both had terror in their eyes.
the screaming and hollering stopped halfway through a note.
i didn’t tell you stop cry? no answer.
take your ass back to the house. galang and cry to yuh father i ain’ able wid dis shit today. look! i tired an’ i don’t want hear nothing right now. like you want i give you something to cry for? eh? galang home and cry to yuh father. i ain’ able. you hear wuh i jus seh?
eyes filled with terror

she held her weapon above her head as she spoke. i wondered whether she was contemplating murder in broad daylight. the little girl held herself halfway up the wall the entire time in silence. the woman looked up and saw me and i got nervous. i ducked my head and played like i was busy again
she turned and continue looking at her prey. i half suspected i was about to witness my first murder. i was half peekign trying not to be caught looking again.

still looking down at her prey she flung the weapon off in the distance, turned and picked up her baby gently.
she paused to gather herself then continued up the hill.
the little girl stood as her mother started walking. after a few seconds she follow her up the hill. silently and at a safe distance.

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more tragedy from a sick society

Kaieteur News: Charles Goodluck, a 62-year-old security guard of East Canje, Berbice, who was previously charged with murder, manslaughter, attempted murder, assault and wounding, among other charges, all committed on former female partners, [ok let’s stop here and ask ourelves on question. what type of sick fucking society would have this man out and about after committing all these crimes that they know of? what type of fucked up society are we living in?]

…was yesterday sentenced to one year in jail by magistrate Adela Nagamootoo at the New Amsterdam Magistrate’s Court. [well isn’t that lovely? one year! providence or coincidence that the magistrate is a woman?]

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another funeral

the church with no name

the church with no name

the church in frere with no name is having another funeral today. they have one about every 3 to 4 days it seems. someone is going home.

precious lord take my hand lead me home.

members of a brass band are standing across the street avoiding arriving tap-taps. the lone wail of a woman fills the air. a long, continuous, agonisingly painful wail. a girl passes with a wheel barrow full of wires. the shoe-shine boys at the gate go sombre. an elaborate white casket covered with flowers is carefully carried down the tiled stairs and into the street. the brass band starts to play and follow the procession down the street. the wailing woman is steadied by two women on either side. her eyes are closed. five smiling pakistani troops in an american armoured personnel carrier keep their guns trained on the procession. they call them united nations peace keepers. no one seem to notice them this time as they march to the cemetery to bury their dead.

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haitian election results 2011

this stuff makes for riveting tv. every race in every district is read out as the cameras roll. people are glued to the tv here but i see the international press has already announced that ayiti now has a crack head president over an hour ago. how and why that’s possible i wont comment.

the sun is setting


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my 1st voodoo ceremony? part one of more

every time magicman billy moved to his beat his knee knocked mine. it was tight seating. i followed orders & took a drink from bakara rum bottle & kept it moving along. being the closet man to billy the magic priest, bakara came back to me on the return journey. a necessary 2nd top up completed the round & i hand bottle back to billy. before the night is over, i think i could see about six bottles at the feet of billy. I think

how did i end up in a magic ceremony with billy to begin with? i’m still trying to figure that out but it all began with an honest guinness at the total gas station at fleuriot

aristide was coming back the following day & i wanted to see what it was like down the road in front of his house.

nothing.there was no one or no happenings when i got off the tap tap. this wasn’t what i expected. i thought i’d see crowds & music & people having fun & frolicking in the streets. i was disappointed.

water was still flowing in abundance down the hill towards the gas station. it’s never stopped since i’ve been here. i followed it down the hill & into total.

i had two beers before philippe arrived. our phone conversations are always difficult. i don’t speak his language & he speaks a little of mine. in person we communicate great, on the telephone confusion reigns. everything gets lost in translation. he thought i wanted to hire him to take me somewhere.

you need me? yes?
if you have some time, let’s have some beers. i’m at total gas station
you want to go see some girls? i know a place
i don’t understand you. we talk when i see you.

excitement is in the air. there is a pre-election party across the street later in the night by candidate sweet mickey. lots of people are already gathering in anticipation filling up the gas station parking lot. the sound-man is warming up the system. beers & drink sales are brisk

a police officer walks to the front of the line with a couple packets of cassava flour. the cashier refuses to serve him & checks the next customer. he looks like a body builder. his shirt barely fits. he glares at the cashier. his radio is crackling. you can hear sirens in the background. you can feel the tension building as the cop demands to be served. cashier gives him a guyana suck her teeth & continue on barely acknowledging his presence. cop get furious. i take note of my escape route if i need to drop my shit & run. Haitian police are known for their violence

after initially refusing the next guy in line who’s two times the cops size allow him to go. the cashier stare him up & down. he says something in disgust to her & chucks his money her way. she mumbles something back to him, another guyana style suck teeth & chuck his change back across the counter. he’s got his cell-phone tucked into his ammo pouch close to his big gun. maybe my mind was playing tricks on me but it seems as if he was reaching for his big gun. he gives the cashier one more glare & stalks off. Everyone start breathing and talking again

philippe & his uncle show up with two scantily dressed girls in tow. from the looks of things this is a clear mismatch. these girls are built for speed. Uncle on the other hand hobbles along in the slow lane. after a lot of back & forth & haggling & uncle trying to get a free feel here and a free feel there they look ready to head off for greener pastures. uncle has no money. we load up into the truck. destination unknown. girls turn to give uncle one last look. one gives him a cut eye & the other a suck teeth before disappearing across the street.

we head back up the hill past aristide’s house. still nothing doing. the water is still flowing & the place is still quiet. pass the us embassy. the lights are still on. The lights are always on. I asked a guy about that he said when that light goes off, they not in haiti no more. He laughs uncomfortably as he thinks about what he just said. un base. guards still looking bored. left turn down a dusty road to a bar next to a car wash, doubling as a portable water station & public bathroom.

ok marko we go to this bar here
ok. i want a beer
oh they don’t have beers. let’s go in
but i want a beer. this is a bar?
ok. yes. it’s a bar. we go get beer & come back

a bar with no beers. all righty we making progress. half a mile walk further down dusty trail we buy two round of beers from a freshly painted shop named el dorado. i ask about the name. no one seems to know or care. i tried explaining walter raleigh & city of gold etc but it gets lost in translation & no one seem to care.


we head back to the bar drinking & talking. we stop outside & drink & talk some more. to call it a bar is a bit of a stretch but…small talk eventually leads to

you want see magic?
magic! you know magic!
magic? where?
right here. come on let’s go in

billy meets us at the door. he’s an older fella of about 55. he stands a bit over 6 feet tall. oddly to me, billy seems excited to meet me. Maybe that’s just his style I rationalised. he’s smoking a cigarette which he firmly bites down on showing his front teeth. one teeth is covered in gold and shines in the low light. with a short wave of the hand he welcomes us in to his bar.

his son who caught a ride on the truck joins us inside. seating is scarce & the bar is empty. directly ahead about twenty feet is a doorway that leads to a lighted room off left. on the immediate left is a spill over area for excess dancers i suppose. to the right is the main area of the club. it’s about ten square feet.

billy will do a magic for my uncle
Him billy. he’s a magician
who? Billy? Billy is a magician?
yea he’s a good magician.
uh huh
very good magician. i’m a magician too
you’re a magician too!!?
yea but i no practice magic for many years
my uncle. somebody did something to him. billy will do a magic for him
who? one of his ladies

we both laugh.

come on let’s go in

billy leads us into the lighted room. a counter runs along the left side & coke bottles are stacked in crates on the right. an old gadget of some sort sits at the end of the counter which runs the length of the room. Looks like an old typewriter

billy takes his seat on two coke crates in front of a lighted candle. two light-bulbs are on overhead so the room is very bright. yours truly, soon to be elevated deputy master of ceremonies follow uncle who’s behind billy. behind me is the son, another young man & philippe who’s slapping his belly.

billy sits facing the door or make that the entrance. there is actually no door. to his right uncle is stooping partially under the counter. i sit on an empty bucket facing billy. the other young man stoops to the left of billy off to my right. billy son’s behind him. philippe is behind me leaning against the door frame & the counter.

like magic two young ladies appear in the doorway. they’re dressed for a port au prince night of cocktails.

billy is part humming, part singing a joyful song he began from the time he led us into his shrine. he’s a chain smoker & keeps his cigarette firmly gripped between his teeth.

the magic ceremony is slow in starting. take that back. actually, i’m not sure when the magic ceremony began if it did at all. occasionally i’m forced to bite my bottom lip to hold back myself from outrageous laughter which would be hard to stop once started. i’m not sure what’s about to happen next, but everyone seems to be playing their roles sorta seriously. i occasionally say little things to myself like don’t laugh. this is serious business. this too shall pass. are these motherfuckers serious? Are they trying to pull a prank on me? ok. don’t laugh. Maybe we’ll all have a good laugh at the end.maybe

being a rank magic ceremony novice, i assumed as soon as we entered billy’s lighted room we should behave accordingly. Whatever that is. i observed everything in silence staring directly at billy. there’s a lot of banter & small talk taking place. not quite certain if this is part of the ceremony, i say nothing & keep my eyes trained on billy. young man to billy’s left is now holding the candle.

billy maintains a happy go-lucky demeanour about him the entire time. smiling, winking, moving his shoulders to his humming & making sounds musicians make when they feeling it. quiet. cheerful. confident.

a telephone goes off startling me. Did I just hear a fucking cellphone go off in my first magic ceremony? Say it ain’t so.

philippe answers after a few rings as he tries to find the phone in his pocket. He engages in a few minutes of lively conversation. Oddly to me, billy never misses a beat. he continues on throughout the phone call. it seems like we are waiting on something cause I couldn’t see anything resembling magic happening. Or maybe it was just me

marko let me borrow your phone.
your phone. let me borrow
i have to call & i no have minutes to call.
bro you’re making a phone call in the ceremony. i whispered over my shoulders
oh it’s no problem. let me borrow i gotta call. it’s no problem

billy pauses humming to take a draw of his cigarette. you can make a fucking phone call in a magic ceremony? i ask myself as i handed off the phone to philippe.

billy smiles, exhales & smiles again. almost as if her was giving his approval for the phone call to go ahead. he continued his humming where he left off. I’m staring at billy, billy’s looking at me. billy smiles, exhales & smiles again then says something. The translation comes back from phillipe almost instantly

billy say why you keep looking at him?
He want to know why you keep looking at him
tell him because I want to see what he is doing

billy smile. I smile. He takes a long pull of his cigarette and picks up bakara bottle number I’m loosing track. He takes a drink and hands it to me. I take a drink and pass it along. Billy picks up his song where he last left off and moving to the beat.

I’m almost beginning to not notice his knee knocking mine

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discovering haiti – a waterfall up the hill

a warerfall i discovered. people were already there having a good time when i arrived

sometimes the gem is right before your eyes but you just cant see it. today i discovered a series of waterfalls maybe 30 minutes walking up the hill, round the bend, up some more hills and into the valley and up the mountain. call me colomboss.

you’ve heard everything there is to hear about Ayiti right? you’ve seen everything there is to see til you can take it no more right? maybe you’ve ben misled all this time and just didn’t know it.

i have to double check but this place may actually be within the boundaries of port au prince.

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