T&T’s official World Cup song - it gets worse: Over at the Trinidad & Tobago World Cup blog, Stacy-Marie Ishmael reports today on developments in the scandalous outsourcing of the official Trinidad & Tobago World Cup song to two composers in Leeds. Apparently there’s now a lead singer, but that’s the least of it.
Come on, Trickidad: And Francomenz is right, not enough people out there are showing their support for little Sean Luke. I was on the road this morning and saw only a handful of headlights, and on a visit to a shopping mall was surprised not to see more folks in black. Heading up to the airport now, so it will be interesting to see what folks are doing out east.

Today Trinidad & Tobago celebrates Shouter Baptist Liberation Day — with a public holiday, of course, so I’m at home playing my usual game of catch-up, without clients, editors (the Trinidadian ones, at least) and callers trying to reach the Curepe Junior Secondary School (our office telephone number shares six of seven digits with this institution’s) breathing down my neck for a change.

I, food judge: The murder of little Sean Luke still has me quite upset (here’s the latest, from the Express), but today I get to distract myself by looking at gorgeous images of food, as I’ve been fingered by Melissa de Leòn Douglass as a judge on the 14th leg of the “Does My Blog Look Good In It” competition (DMBLGIT). Melissa is hosting DMBLGIT this month over at her muy sabroso Cooking Diva blog (winner of the 2006 Bloggie for Latin America).

Here are the photos I have the enviable yet unenviable task of choosing among. And pictured below are a few creations from my cousin Christiana, who’s training as a pastry chef at the French Culinary Institute in New York. I’m posting this photo in the hope that one day she actually lets me sample her wares.

Global Voices meets the Soca Warriors: Or at least they will tomorrow — sort of — as this morning I had the pleasure of interviewing Stacy-Marie Ishmael, the London-based Trinidadian who maintains the T&T World Cup Blog, for my next Global Voices article. I’ll be sure to post the link to the article here as well, but in the meantime I urge you to check out the T&T World Cup Blog and Stacy’s commentaries on the happenings on and off the pitch as the Soca Warriors prepare for Germany 2006.

Boycott the official World Cup Song: It was thanks to Stacy-Marie, for instance, that I first heard the outrageous news that the official Trinidad & Tobago World Cup song had been outsourced to two guys in Leeds. Yes, Leeds, England! Why hasn’t there been a public outcry about this scandal? Or if there has, why haven’t I heard about it?

Even more appalling is the insipid rationale offered by Choque Hosein, one of the composers:

Soca is a Trinidadian style of music that has been developing over the last 10 years. It has been influenced by radio from Miami, Brazil, Venezuela as well as reggae. . . . We wanted to do a classic football song and the best ones are from the ’70s.

But wait — that’s not only insipid, it’s factually incorrect as well. Choque’s mother might be Trinidadian, but she’s done a very poor job of educating him about the culture: soca was developed in the 1970s, son. And the team is called the Soca Warriors, so a soca song would suit the situation just fine. In fact, as Stacy-Marie pointed out, we already have a perfectly good official song, called “Fighter”.

How did I get involved?: I’m borrowing my buddy Walt Lovelace’s favourite phrase as the title for this one, because honestly, how is it that my least favourite of all the images I have ever posted at Caribbean Free Photo (note the disclaimer, “this one of so touristy it hurts. . . .”) has turned out to the most controversial, becoming a symbol of sorts for a very serious incident whose only relationship with the photo is that is took place at the location depicted therein? To think I was once accused of “perpetuating that beautiful idyllic view of the Caribbean”.

I do however sympathise completely with the two people who left comments on the post (one of whom was the daughter of the man who lost his life). There is absolutely no excuse for an establishment whose signature activities are drinking and cliff-diving (often combined, I’m sure) not to have an efficient emergency response system, and if my photo will help change that, I’m happy. But I have to say the first commenter loses me completely when he writes, “My advice to any person from North America is to stay away from Rick’s.” When is a certain kind of North American going to realise that the rest of humanity also bleeds when cut and that they’d win more friends if they at least pretended to acknowledge that?

Me on Open Source Radio: Last and certainly least, Chelsea Merz, one of the producers at Open Source Radio, e-mailed yesterday to say that the interview the esteemed Christopher Lydon did with me the other day was going to be featured at the end of the March 29th show. I haven’t listened as yet because, to be truthful, I’m scared. As pleasurable as it was to chat with Christopher, my memory of the interview is of me grasping for words and not finding any and giving lots of inaccurate information in the process. And while few believe me when I say it, I truly dislike the sound of my own voice. Listen at least for the rest of the show, which is sure to be quality stuff.

8:42pm: Here watching CNC News. Six-year old murder victim Sean Luke’s uncle was just interviewed over the telephone. It appears that the US authorities (Sean was born in Michigan) are showing up the local law enforcement officials very badly.

Criminal attorney Prakash Ramadar being interviewed now. Shelley Dass (news presenter) is asking what kind of evidence could lead to a conviction. Ramadar says direct evidence (eg eyewitness accounts), confessions, and, of course, DNA evidence. And circumstantial evidence as well. Ramadar says the legislation around DNA evidence is being re-drafted at the moment but that samples could be taken and kept. DNA legislation required immediately, says Ramadar, “I don’t think we appreciate the power of the thing.”

8:54pm: Shelley Dass now discussing with her co-presenter, Curtis Williams, the issue of DNA legislation in light of the Akiel Chambers case. Williams emphasising how important DNA legislation is, particularly in a society where people are fearful of coming forward with evidence. Dass brings up one of my pet peeves — ID parades with no two-way mirror. I went through one of these back in 1987 — it’s appalling that the same conditions prevail today.

Sean Luke

I am certain that I will kill to protect a child from being physically harmed. Thankfully, this theory is yet to be tested. All I can say right now is that the murder of six year-old Sean Luke is the most gruesome story I can remember ever reading, and by that I’m referring not only the horrific manner of the child’s death but also the refusal of the police to take the matter seriously, as a result of which the monster who killed this little boy remains at large.

Children are all too often treated with contempt in this country, as this list and the yet unsolved murder of Akiel Chambers demonstrates. This is a place, after all, where supposedly rational people believe it is reasonable for an adult to beat a child. On Friday I shall be wearing black.

Americans, who get so up in arms when the Natalee Holloways of this world are harmed, may be interested to know that, in addition to being a Trinidad and Tobago resident, Sean Luke was a US citizen.

UPDATE (7:51pm): I didn’t watch the TV news this evening, but J9 of Francomenz did. She says the Prime Minister declined comment on the Sean Luke issue.

UPDATE (8:04pm): It appears that two suspects, both teenage boys, were taken into custody this afternoon.

Delphine, captured this evening in flagrante delicto — or, if you like, red-pawed — in front of the iMac.

This should silence those who believe that I am the true writer of Rhymes with Blog.

This is ridiculous. Out-of-touch folks trying to control something they don’t (no longer?) participate in or understand. Dogs in the manger.

Understanding and resolving this is where these characters’ energies should be directed.

But of course it’s easier to fantasise about teaching “your flock” to wine cleanly, or not to wine at all (either way you get to fantasise about wining, which is probably the point of the exercise), than to deal with an issue so deep-rooted that will take more than a five-year term to figure out.

Came home this afternoon and found fur on my office chair and paw prints on the computer keyboard. This can only mean one thing: Delphine’s blogging again.

Today I completed the final session of the digital audio module I’ve been teaching up at the School of Education of the University of the West Indies, and these past few days I’ve been joking with my friends about whether my students would shower me with farewell presents and move me to tears with their parting words (this from reading To Sir, With Love at an impressionable age).

Little did I know they actually would. Today, the members of Digital Audio (Group Two) presented me with a very cool USB flash drive and Aletia sang “Morena Osha”, and then they snuck off after the lunch hour to put together a special farewell audio presentation (which I guess means that, at the very least, I’ve taught them how to use Audacity).

Teaching these classes has been an extremely rewarding experience, and for it to have been capped by these lovely gestures has made it all the more special. I won’t miss having to get up earlier than my body thinks is reasonable on a Thursday to make it up to St. Augustine for 9am, nor the frostbite-inducing temperatures in the computer lab, and I wish I’d been able to devote more time to writing about the experience on the class blog. But I will miss chewing the fat at lunch time over doubles and sharing with this splendid group of people (who have filled me with an immense respect for the profession of teaching) my passion for audio, and having the opportunity to learn from them as well.

Thank you all.

If you happen to be one of my clients, editors, prospective personal trainers, pets or one of the many friends who’ve been complaining that I’ve been scarce lately, I advise you to stop reading right here, for what I’m about to announce is not going to sound like good news to you:

I’ve started contributing to another blog. It’s a group blog called The Pan Collective, and it’s the brainchild of Karen Walrond, the energetic soul behind Chookooloonks, Indigo Leaf magazine and any Caribbean content you happen to find at BlogHer. I’m sure I’ll cross-post occasionally here at CFR, but I suspect TPC might show you a different side of me.

I know this isn’t exactly music to the ears of those who’ve been inquiring about the whereabouts of CFR #42 either, but please bear with me. I just happen to be in print mode at the moment. This too shall pass.

To dye for. Photo by Nicholas Laughlin

Occasionally I count my blessings that I don’t make a living as a stripper. Last night, emerging from the shower, was one of those times. How, in the middle of writhing around poles and lap-dancing, would I ever have explained all those purplish and green marks left on my skin — in spite of multiple scrubbings — after yesterday’s visit to the Aranjuez Savannah?

Ah, the joys of living in a multi-cultural community. Yesterday afternoon, Jonty, Nikipedia and I donned dye-friendly clothing and armed ourselves with squeeze bottles and ziplock bags (to protect the cameras) and took our farse selves off to Aranjuez to take part in the Phagwah (as the Hindu festival of Holi is more commonly known here in Trinidad) festivities. Phagwah is a spring festival with origins in the Hindu holy scriptures, and earlier in the week the burning of Holika and other rites of a more obviously religious nature would have taken place. Yesterday’s celebrations, however, were more of a reminder of why Phagwah is also called the “festival of colours”.

As we arrived at the venue in our clean white t-shirts we received our first dousings with the coloured dye known as abeer, and it was downhill from there. I had liquid dye dumped over my head, powdered pigment rubbed into my skin (especially by Gillian Moor’s two daughters), and was drenched numerous times by little boys and girls armed with ingenious squirt guns comprising two lengths of PVC pipe fitted one into the other, or, in some cases, commercial toy super-soakers. My vessel of choice — a used water bottle (sport-top) I’d found on the floor of my car — was a shameful match for most of the weaponry other people were toting, and I only managed to besmirch a few people (including a press photographer, for which I suppose I get extra marks). But Jonty had better luck with a dishwashing liquid bottle he’d taken from home, and somebody gave Nikipedia a two-litre Coca-Cola bottle which had him acting like Hiranyakashipu the demon king himself, squirting small children and senior citizens and other helpless creatures (just kidding, of course). Stationed here and there were groups of men with barrels of dye shooting sniper-style from the trays of pick-up trucks and filling other people’s vessels, and little bags of powdered pigment were also being handed around.

And that wasn’t the only entertainment. Several chowtal groups performed, and a couple of old drunkards (though there is technically a prohibition on meat and alcohol being brought to the festivities) wined in what — had they not looked like they were on the verge of collapse — could have been described as lewdly, and one threw himself on the ground and humped the muddy ground, though I suspect he thought he was break-dancing. A young dance group called Natraj appeared and livened up the crowd with a few Bollywood dance numbers and now Nikipedia’s talking about forming a dance troupe and doing a Bollywood dance number for next year. All in all, and in spite of the drizzle and the tie-dyed hides many of us are sporting today, a good time was had by all.

Except, perhaps, for those who were off somewhere nursing bee stings. At one point during the proceedings the emcee issued a cryptic (at least to us) directive about staying clear of the big samaan tree near the edge of the festivities. Some time later, a fire engine pulled up, along with a gentleman wearning a beekeeper’s suit who proceeded to climb a ladder and spray the tree. Nikipedia called later in the evening to say that that the bee story had made the TV news, and that before we’d arrived bees had indeed attacked and two people had to be rushed to hospital.

I took no photos since it turned out I’d forgotten to replace the CF card in my camera, but here are Nikipedia’s and Attillah, who went to another venue, has a few as well. Here, also, is Flickr’s selection of photos tagged with “Phagwa” and photos tagged with “Holi”, and here’s blogger New York Friend’s report on the festivities in Queens, New York, and blogger Lee Ann’s report from Guyana.

Incidentally, 2006 marks the 161st anniversary of Phagwa celebrations in Trinidad. And yesterday was also St. Joseph’s day, which — way back when it was considered sacreligious to play calypsoes during Lent — was the day you were offered a mid-Lenten reprieve and allowed to sing as many bad songs and behave as awfully as you wanted. In these bad new days, of course, St. Joseph’s day has zero currency.

On February 22, 2006, just ten days after he was appointed Northeast Asia editor for Global Voices, my colleague Hao Wu was detained by the Chinese government. To date he has not been charged with a crime.

Hao is a documentary filmmaker and blogger, and Global Voices has set up a Free Hao Wu web site which provides background information on Hao and his detention. Please visit the site and check in frequently, as information will be added as it becomes available. Please also spread the word by linking to the Free Hao Wu site on your own blogs and web sites. And please keep Hao in your thoughts and prayers.

The moment I’ve been dreading arrived yesterday. Yes, I was tagged, by the wily Sanjiva, no less. I have nothing against tagging and memes and their ilk, but I suspect my mind might, as a sort of mental paralysis sets in whenever I am faced with the prospect of naming “favourites” or “bests”. But I also happen to be a fairly good sport, so here goes:

Four jobs I’ve had:
Bank peon
Television producer
Film Festival curator
Editor

Four movies I can watch over and over:
(I rarely watch a film more than once, but here a few I actually have)
Mona Lisa
Don’t Look Now
Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown
The Rules of the Game

Four places I have lived:
Trinidad
Atlanta, GA
St. Andrews, Scotland
Fort de France, Martinique

Four television shows I love to watch:
(Not a big TV watcher, but here’s a try. . . .)
The Sopranos
Get Smart
The Simpsons (though we don’t get Fox here any more)
Dateline London

Four places I have been on vacation:
(What, me? Vacation?)
Venice, Italy
San Francisco
Cape Town, South Africa
St. Barts

Four of my favorite dishes:
(See, these are the ones which stump me completely. When it comes to food I don’t play favourites. A better one for me would be, “Individual dishes which have made a strong impression on me”. But I’ll be good and give it a try)
Smoked marlin (indeed, smoked fish in general)
Féroce (French creole dish made with avocado and saltfish)
Ackee and saltfish
Black coffee (I know–not a dish! Made from freshly ground Haitian Bleu beans)

Four websites I visit daily:
(Again, not really applicable, as I check the contents of hundreds of sites daily in my RSS reader, but here are a few I actually visit. . . .)
Global Voices
Flickr
New York Times
Guardian

Four places I would rather be right now:
Salvador da Bahia, Brazil
Heights of Aripo, Trinidad
Gouverneur beach, St.  Barts
Somewhere I can see a really big whale (don’t ask–it’s an urge I’ve had for years)

Four bloggers I am tagging:
Francomenz
Francis Wade
Alice Backer
Jonathan Ali

From the March 12 episode of The Sopranos:

INT. DR. MELFI’S OFFICE - DAY
Tony Soprano and Dr. Melfi (his shrink) are discussing his concern for his increasingly addled Uncle Junior.

and later:

EXT. JANICE’S HOUSE - DAY
Tony has come to his manipulative sister Janice’s house to persuade her to watch Uncle Junior that afternoon. Janice, however, has a previously scheduled appointment at the school she plans on sending her daughter to (the child is currently 15 months old).

John La Rose (middle), flanked by Trinidadian novelist Sam Selvon (L) and Jamaican writer Andrew Salkey (R). Photo by Horace Ové

Today’s edition of the BBC World Service programme “Outlook” devotes a segment on Trinidad-born, UK-based activist John La Rose, who passed away in London on February 28, 2006. From the Outlook web site:

Known in the UK as an “elder statesman for the black community”, John La Rose was a well-known anti-colonial campaigner, poet, teacher, publisher and film-maker. He recently died at the age of 78 and now the BBC’s Matthew Bannister talks to three people who knew him well to find out more about the influence he had during his life and the impact he continues to make, even after death.

And if you happen to be Trinidad, “A Dream to Change the World,” a documentary on La Rose by Horace Ové, will be screened at CCA7, Fernades Compound, Laventille at 7:00pm. The event is free and open to the public.

(Cross-posted at the Caribbean Beat Weblog)

Every so often you visit a place so magically atmospheric that you simply point the camera and images of astounding beauty compose themselves in the viewfinder. Even the mistakes — the wonky angles, the moments when the camera malfunctions — turn out serendipitous, and on such occasions, I’ve noticed, attractive human subjects have a habit of wandering into the frame as well.

I had one of these experiences this past Wendesday at the Aripo River, which runs through Trinidad’s northern mountain range. My thigh muscles still ache from the steep and slippery ten-minute climb (as difficult to go down as it was to go up) it took to get there and back, but I keep gazing at these images of cool green water and dreaming of my return.

I’m a bit of a sucker for graciousness. And few human qualities fill me with greater respect than a person’s ability to admit that one has made a mistake. Rudeness, crassness, cynicism, defensiveness, unnecessary displays of aggression — all these I can find examples of simply by turning on the television or radio, walking down the street, entering a store or calling the customer service department of the average local enterprise; and I know that if I were to review my own behaviour on any given day I’d find traces of them as well. I realise too that, quite unconsciously — and perhaps selfishly — I have surrounded myself with gracious people: I have few friends whom I do not admire for the decency and grace with which they treat those around them, not to mention their willingness to engage in ruthless self-scrutiny when necessary.

And now let me add to this list one of my blogging colleagues, Guyana Media Critic.

GMC’s Living Guyana is one of the blogs I keep a close eye on, both for Global Voices purposes and because his scathing critiques of the Guyanese media are fascinating, funny and, it would appear, extremely effective. I’m told that his blog has triggered serious changes in the way the Guyanese media operates. In maintaining Living Guyana, I am also told, GMC has put himself at great personal risk.

A few days ago, however, GMC posted a photo of a koker (or sluice-gate) that looked suspiciously familiar. It looked identical, in fact, to this photo from my Flickr page. So I dropped GMC a line reminding him that my Flickr photos bore a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 license, which meant he was free to use them once they were attributed clearly to their owner.

A day or two later I received an e-mail from a deeply contrite GMC calling the whole thing “a sorry episode” and explaining about the computer crash which caused the mix-up. To ensure complete transparency, GMC also flagellated himself publicly for his error, exposing himself, in the process, to the possibility of ridicule and accusations of not practising what he preaches.

The cynics among us will probably say that I’m writing about this episode because it casts me in the role of victor and because, along with the sackcloth and ashes, GMC’s blog post also included some very flattering words. Or maybe that GMC only posted a public apology because he didn’t trust me not to ridicule him publicly.

I won’t lie and say I dislike winning, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say that, for me, the truly awesome feature of this story has to do with GMC’s own graciousness and willingness to subject himself to his own standards. I’ll be bearing his example in mind when I make my next faux pas — and when I finally get around to developing some standards of my own.

Just a quick one to say that the “Joan Armatrading in Trinidad” radio documentary which aired on Tuesday has been archived at the BBC2 web site and can be accessed via the “Listen Again” link.

- Enjoyed a rare day today away from the computer (and up in the mountains!), but where I am it’s still three hours before the end of International Women’s Day, so not too late to echo the sentiments of my friend Gregory Sloane-Seale: “Know Justice, Know Equity, Know Peace”.

- Farewell Gordon Parks and Ali Farka Touré!

Had I been the type to blog about hobnobbing with celebrities, I would have mentioned that I recently had the pleasure of spending some time with singer Joan Armatrading, who was here back in January with Kate Bland and Susan Marling of JustRadio making a radio documentary for BBC2 on Trinidad & Tobago and Joan’s native island of St. Kitts.

Part One of the resulting production airs today at 20:30 GMT, and while it’s possible that my input ended up on the proverbial cutting-room floor, it’s also possible that some of it made it into the final cut — though this is probably more of a reason not to listen. In her time here, however, Joan also met up with a number of friends of CFR, including 3canal and 12, in addition to friends who have yet to appear on CFR, like Len “Boogsie” Sharpe, leader of the 2006 Panorama winners, Phase II Pan Groove, visual artist Christopher Cozier and others.

Jonathan on J’ouvert morning (L) and Carnival Tuesday (R).