This week it was with great expectation and a tingle of ‘tropical excitement’ that we prepared to make a much anticipated trip to Golden Grove Village, East Bank Demerara, our next stop in our weekly Village Focus exploits.You see folks we had received word of the ‘sunny fiesta’ allure of this location, infused with the jovial banter of its happy people, always caught up in the bustle of getting things done to ensure a satisfying and reasonable means of existence.

There is however a Golden Grove situated on the East Coast of Demerara is better known by that name than the Golden Grove on the East Bank of the same river.
That is because the village on the East Bank is more popularly known by the shortened form, just GROVE. Eight miles from the capital city, going south, along the East Bank Demerara, is the sprawling two-mile long village of Golden Grove, somehow just called simply Grove.
Lying adjacent to the village of Diamond, Grove, with a population of over 25,000 is easily the most densely populated, though not the largest village on the East Bank of Demerara. Originally a totally East Indian village, 25 per cent of the residents are now of mixed and African races.
Administered under the Diamond Place/Grove National Democratic Council (NDC), the expanded boundaries of the former plantation include the original village, a housing scheme and two squatting areas. Grove is divided into several exciting locations, the likes of Post Office Street, Lisa Street, Sarah Street, Station Street and several others.

Places of Worship
Religious places of worship are plentiful. There are two mosques, three Hindu and two Kali Mai Temples, in addition to several churches representing various sects of the Christian denominations. Many are ‘bottom-house’ churches. But they compete equally with the proliferation of liquor restaurants and beer gardens that flourish, especially on weekends
Seventy-five per cent of the working population in Grove work at the Guyana Sugar Corporation (GUYSUCO) and the Demerara Distillers Limited at Diamond. For most, Fridays are the happiest day since that is when they receive their weekly wages and would engage in drinking and festivity, sometimes all weekend.

Village Treks and Livelihood of the People
The almost intoxicating smell of rich, pure Guyanese sugar and molten molasses signalled that we had arrived at Greater Diamond, just a few metres from our destination. Jerking out of my reverie at the economic transformation of Diamond, I grabbed notepad, pens and camera and prepared for the task ahead.
It was not going to an easy day for me because the midday sun was tearing at my skin, its merciless ultraviolet rays almost seeming wanting to cook me alive. I had sadly forgotten my umbrella, so like a ‘hard boiled country bred kid’ I steeled myself and prepared to brave the forces of Mother Nature.
But when I began to think that the sun was my only discomfort, I received a rude awakening when a sand truck blaring its horn and raising suffocating clouds of dust almost ran me over. Seeing my shock and disbelief some taxi drivers almost laughed their heads off, but one very concerned housewife was in sympathy.
“Mista yuh gat tuh be careful pond is road. Dem driva ain’t kay bout nobady. Dem ah behave as if dem deh pon ah race track. Is dem sand truck drivas does behave suh. Dem ah try fuh out run mattie fuh get laod and mek de big money. Is a day when dem kill somebody”.
Heeding her warning I gingerly retreated to the road parapet and continued my explorations.
I was approaching a cheery looking vegetable vendor who was close by the road side when again I was forced to scurry to safety my heart pounding in my chest. This time two sand trucks were seeming racing on the busy road since the drivers were ‘guffawing’ and shouting loud obscenities at each as their loud, raucous laughter rang out distinctly above the loud ‘churning’ of their truck engines.
A few young men standing close by swore at the reckless maneuvres of the drivers and I dare not repeat what they mouthed as the vehicles sped by in a blinding cloud of dust and debris. That aside this village was a bustle of activity that had me very surprised and well, a bit awed.
My first stop was to chat with shoe maker Rawle Pile who operated from a makeshift stall quite close by the Grove Main Bridge. And oh boy… This lad was ultra excited that he was obviously the focus and attention of a media personality.
Setting aside his needles he informed that life was good in Grove and assured that he truly enjoyed his profession.
“Life is good in this village and everyone live here as one. I have been engaged in this job for over 15 years and during that time I must agree that my experiences have kept me glued to it until today. This is more like a side job for me but it is the one I enjoy most. Sometimes business is good and sometimes bad but I still survive since I also would drive around the village and sell fish from time to time. The two jobs combined keep my head above water”.
There are a few other shoemakers in Grove but according to Mr. Pile this profession has dwindled over the years. He noted that his customers are satisfied with his service and that he has seen a distinct increase in clients since word of his good works is spread far and wide.
Grove is mostly inhabited by ‘go-getters’ as indicated by several taxi drivers. While some are employed in the many clothing and grocery outlets one could find there, others are in good positions at the Bounty Farm branch, Digicel Branch, Med’s and US Pharmacy, Bill Express, Devon’s Auto Spares, Chinese Restaurants, and several lumber years that have sprung up in the village. Some housewives are poultry farmers, while some families still engage in farming both on a small and large scale basis.
Yes a few are engaged in administrative offices outside the village, but self help initiatives and small businesses seem to be the order of the day. Many take up positions in entities like the Post Office, Luck Dollar Furniture Store, DDaily Fresh Chicken outlet, Hardat’s & Sons Lumber Yard, Automotive Arts entity and other business too many to mention.
And many villagers believe in the humble beginnings of life and one such individual was the somewhat quiet Dorrie Dais, a vegetable and ground provision vendor who operates a small stall just by the roadside.
She has been engaged in plying her trade by the roadside since 1982, braves the forces of weather, and of course, the ‘noisy and very irritating rattling of the speeding sand trucks’ to make a living. Her husband ‘Ravi’ is a carpenter but as expected he gets jobs on a seasonal basis thus prompting his wife to help out in the home. The two have father six sons the eldest being twenty two years, while the youngest is just three years old.
But despite the challenges and discomfort she sometimes faces, the smiling Dorrie is humble and thankful for whatever she makes on the road. This with the little from her husband and eldest son who chips in keeps the family living comfortable if not luxuriously.
“I doing dis jab fuh ovah 15 years and it is nat ah easy jab at all. I would normally gat tuh wake up at five ‘a’ clack and fetch out meh supplies with help frum me husband and sons all de way up Market Road up tuh where yuh see me selling hea. To get real good money ah does most times sell until seven in de evening before packing up. Normally me husband would come out tuh help me fetch every thing home”.
Asked about her sales the smiling woman who chatted and expertly cleaned her eddoes noted that her sales can be determined by demand and by her aggression.
“Sales would be decided by the demand of the customers and when things nah bright wid dem, I does gat tuh come up with some real strong ideas to mek a money. Sometime I would get into de streets and urge customers to buy ad meh stall since dem got plenty atha vegetable vendas. And dere is nothing like pitchin in wan or two extra plantains or ochro, or whateve. People does be pleased and dem ah come back fuh buy frum yuh again”.

Challenges
While all seems to be well in this village a few complained of the drainage and irrigation system which they said can become very irritable at times.
Some persons, specifically those living in the MARKET Street area noted that because of overgrown drains and a not properly cleaned main canal, their location becomes extremely muddy and flooded during heavy rainfall.
Neil Singh who indicated that the lumber yard business was becoming highly competitive noted that there is great need for improvement in the drainage aspect of the village.
“All is well in Grove boss. We get proper electricity and good drinking water, but one problem facing residents in the Market Road area is the drainage problem. When rain falls the place does get so muddy, people are hardly able to move around in that area. Those that suffer mostly are the persons with vehicles and those using donkey carts and horse carts to transport the items they would sell by the roadside. If something can be done about this problem, I think persons in that location would be happier citizens”.

Prominent figures from Grove
Elsie Sargeant
In the annals of East Indian music of Guyana, the contribution of women who worked on the plantations and estates is unquestionably extraordinary. For generations, a group of women from Grove, East Bank Demerara—all members of a weeding gang, made some of the most remarkable folk music. Its quite deserving thatw e should mention at least two of them that contributed significantly to local music during their era.

Elsie Sargeant popularly known as “Dougla” Elsie and Kassri Narine, called Kathy (kay-tee) (let’s also honour in spirit, their multi-talented supporting cast, all of whom have since died) Sundarie, “Polo,” Sumintra aka “Lada,” Budnee, Dulari called “Sardaren,” Kawalpatie, and Sajaan Ramotar. Each was a singer in her own right, and many were efficient on the dholak (drum).
“Dougla” Elsie was born to an Indian mother and a Black father in the early1920s at Plantation Diamond (Diamond) on the East Bank of Demerara, bedrock of East Indian culture before its inhabitants migrated from the logees to Grove next door. As her mother died shortly after Elsie was born, the child came of age under the tutelage of a grandmother who came from India. Young Elsie started singing early, but would become most notable after her marriage, and move to Grove in the1950s.
Essentially a folklorist like many musicians of the old, she lacked any formal education (music or otherwise), but knew how to sing between vernaculars and was familiar with the Hindu culture practiced locally. Apart from having the most distinct voice among her companions, she played the dholak, damru (small hand-drum), harmonium, and knew the homogenous lingua franca used on the plantations. To interpret the life of this cultural pioneer is not easy, because Elsie the musician evolved hand-in-hand with the very culture of Indian music which, incidentally, metamorphose due to the indenture experience, and was further complicated by its overlapping with the world of Western music. Thus, in playing music for the community from weddings to “nine-day” birth rituals to religious ceremonies, these estate-employed women existed between traditions.
Because historians have largely ignored them, the depth of skills and their intricacies remain subdued, hidden. On one hand, traditional Indian songs (e.g., bhajans) were done closer to the Indian music scale, expressing a variety of raag (melody) and at differing taal (rhythmic cycles). On the other, their “rhyme songs” (that is, songs done in Anglo-Indian dialect) were sung in a Western scale and this led to substantial improvisation, pushing East Indian music into a region that was, arguably, neither East nor West.
If you were lucky to listen to a number of songs by these women from Grove, recorded by Peter Kempadoo and Marc Matthews in the early1970s , you would realise some thirty years later, it is altogether, a mesmerising display of musical talent and feminine energy. The setting is raw with no acoustics to capture or purify sounds, and the instruments are rudimentary; there is a relentless dholak, backed by the undying presence of dhandtal and manjiras (or kartal; cymbals), and occasionally, tali (handclapping). The harmonium was set very low. While Elsie (who had an extensive repertoire of songs; a different type of song for differing occasions) was mostly the lead singer, she did not always lead. In fact, at least four of the women lead at one time or another.
From these recordings, Kempadoo-Matthews would “cut” a record of Elsie singing “Bangali Babu,” a song originally sung by a musician from Portuguese Quarter, Berbice, but which was truly popularized by Elsie. In the up-tempo “Shivaji Mandir,” which seems to resemble the intricate but traditional 14-beat chowtaal, the women encourage us to attend mandirs and sing the name of the God; and “Garam Massala” (Elsie, lead vocal) is a folk song that incorporated subtle ribaldry—using spicy Indian food items to describe the vivaciousness of “dis time young gyal” regarding courtship. A Bhojpuri recitation, which is customarily sung as a dulaha and dulahin enter under the manro (ceremonial tent) in a Hindu wedding, is heard for a staggering four and a half minutes—all vocals and no instruments.
One cannot exaggerate the role of music in the life of Indians, where it has surpassed itself as an art form, becoming life itself. This was best exemplified by these weeding-gang musicians whose “life” belonged to the community. What they played to the villagers, were often rehearsed in the cane fields where saucepans and cutlasses became dholaks and dhandtals. It seemed unnatural, but underlying these recordings is an intensity that is characterized by all these years of impromptu versification. These women were so devoted that they often attended Friday night matikors and return home after the kanghan on Monday.

Kassri Narine
Kassri Narine (aka Kathy), house was just one block from where Elsie lived She was born in 1934 in what was originally “old” Grove (before the nuclear scheme was added), not far from where the first Diamond-Grove mandir existed (at the border of the villages). One of the first mandirs in Demerara, it was here (before the reign of the Deodat Sharma clan of pundits) under Pandit Durga (father of PPP MP Pandit Reepu Daman Persaud) that Hindu culture thrived—such as, allegedly, the first-ever staging of the Ramlila pageant-plays, based on the Ramayana. This community would have influenced her tremendously, as it did Elsie.
Kathy had been singing since she was in her teens, and was exposed to some level of music at home since her brother, the late Sugrim Gobin, was also a music talent. Additionally, she had a chacha (father’s brother) who was famous for playing the enormous tadjah drum at Diamond ground whenever fairs were held. Arguably, Kathy was not as versatile a singer as Elsie, but her skills as a dholak player was indisputable. She was married twice and had four children altogether. When I met her, she rattled off a number of stanzas randomly (despite being weak), before speaking about the harsh conditions in which they worked and sang—before the time of electricity, such as when the villagers gathered at nights to sing in the presence of jug lamps—making what they called “jug music.”
In 1973, two of her songs became records—one was “Oh Maninja,” a folk anthem or “rhyme song” re-popularize by Kanchan in the eighties. For the Kempadoo-Matthews JARAI sessions, Kathy sang a different (probably the earliest) version of the song.
The record that was made, however, was done from a different session in Grove at the home of Sugrim Gobin, in a room constructed specially “for recording music.” Of course, it was primitive—a mere room with high, sealed walls to deflect car engines and dog barks. Two of Grove’s well-known talents played on that record; Harrychan on dholak and Arthur Etwaroo (aka Arthur Barber) on harmonium. To capture the sounds from which a master tape was used to press the 45 records, Kathy used a tape recorder.
In all of the folk literature to originate from the East Indians, there is almost no verse that is as poignant and famous as the chorus of “Oh Maninja.” Unwisely, as has been generally the case with East Indian writings—not regarded as proper culture by the guardians of Guyanese literature, these lyrics have long been ignored;

The song epitomises the appalling realities of estate village life; there is stark poverty, rising cost of living, hard labor for little returns, thriftiness, brute estate management, and despair.

 Lost musical culture
Grove lost its great music culture long ago as it began to lose its music matriarchs. As generations changed, musicians migrated elsewhere or passed on; Arthur “Rock N Roll” Budram left for the city and Leonard Latachana (Chandi Orchestra) migrated to Canada. Others like Ata Baba, Raymond Bandhu, and the spirited women of the weeding gang died. Chandi Orchestra that toured Suriname disbanded and Sugrim Gobin, who had made about a dozen records, moved to Friendship—only to be murdered by “kick-down-the-door” bandits. After Kathy moved to Venezuela, Elsie remained as the last of the musicians in Grove.
Where hard life had failed, old-age eventfully wore her down until the artist disappeared, leaving only the woman. Abandoned by the sound-system technology that had stormed away an oral tradition she helped glorify, Elsie became a mere accessory of the time. In 1993, the incredibly talented “Dougla” Elsie died, leaving behind her old dholak and a handful of exhilarating recordings, remnants of an excitingly rich past.

Grove Village before its evolvement
Everyone wonders why our villages were given the names they have today and not often are we able to come up with the true reasons. We searched really high and low for an elderly villager who should be able to come up with an insight on the origin of Grove Village. After about an hour we were directed to 84-year old Pearlie Liadrunie, a peppy old woman, all full of toothless smiles, with candle light dancing in her eyes.
This woman certainly made my day and filled me with spirited energy, as ai marvelled at her still energetic moves, and merriment that seemed to bubble from her being.
‘Auntie Pearlie’ as she is more popularly known noted that as a young girl she was among the first settlers to have inhabited Grove Village. She said that at time this location was a dense fusion of towering trees, bush and foliage that hardly allowed much moving around.
“Meh chile, dis village was noting of what it is today in my time. Meh fatha bring we hea when I was a lil gyal and we used to use trench wata fuh cook and drink sometimes. Fuh get prapa wata we had to walk tuh Diamond or dem atha village and it used to kill me. All ovah was tree and bush and plenty mud. De mud suh much dat people ah stick up in it. And it had plenty fruit tee and dem tree de deh in groves like. We had tons a guava, cherry, jamoon and plenty atha fruit trees. We had a large pine grove that grow hea by itself tuh. Accarding to me fatha who dead now, people began to call de village Grove because of the formation of them trees and bush. Dah is as much as me can tell yuh son”.
‘Aunty Pearlie’ explained that as the years went by the village saw the arrival of more settlers. She said that most of the tress there in her time would have gotten their ‘grove like formation’ from the planting pattern left by owners of sugar plantations in that era.
Roads soon appeared through government interventions and electricity soon became a luxury most households could afford. In the late 1980’s this village saw an influx of commercial businesses and much economical initiatives as it became engulfed in the tentacles of ‘modern development’. Today Grove Village as it is more locally known is an exciting mix of business places a, nightspots and hangout bars that allows villagers a never ending ‘leisure time fiesta’ that keeps them smiling all the time. Taking a look at this settlement one might be tempted to say that this village has the makings of a little town, if its economic boost continues.
Another remarkable factor about this village is how the residents engage in great harmony and a degree of camaraderie that would leave a lasting impression. Now folks you have soaked up the intriguing mysteries of Grove Village (Golden Grove). Join us next Sunday as we thrill you with the journey into another location that is bound to stir your senses and adventurous minds. Do have a fabulous rest of the week and remember to grab a Sunday Chronicle for guaranteed readers’ satisfaction.
Written By Alex Wayne