Tripping down memory lane with Wendella Davidson

CHRISTMAS is a time when shopping is the order of the day; a time when decorations adorn the halls in our homes, and every door or passageway is bedecked with a new blind or curtain, even if unnecessarily.

I grew up in the countryside, at Danielstown on the Essequibo Coast, and just walking down the streets here in the city and hearing all the festive music and seeing the masqueraders with the `Bad Cow’ or‘Mad Cow’ and ‘Mother Sally’ or ‘Bam-Bam Sally’ prancing around, has vividly brought back memories of what growing up on the Essequibo Coast was like in my time.

I must admit that even now, the adrenaline flows whenever I hear the masquerade drums through the streets, or even from a distance. Oh, how I love to see the flouncers with their intricate moves to pick up money from the ground, especially the coins!
The sweet music from the flute is uniquely upbeat and evokes childhood memories. And, I especially remember my late sister, Wilhelmina, when she spent one Christmas here years after migrating to Trinidad, where she and husband had set up house.

We were downtown, browsing around on Regent Street when, fortunately for her and bad luck for me, a masquerade band was making its way in our direction.
Lo and behold! As the flouncers reached us, my sister found herself in the middle of the road, prancing away just like the dancers, much to the amusement of the reasonable crowd that had by then built up around them!

I had a hard time restraining her, and you could hear persons saying:
“Let the girl enjoy her Guyanese Christmas, yeah! Al’yuh can’t see! She is a country girl and she missing this fun where she living now!”

A COMMON FEATURE

In Essequibo where we grew up, the ‘Bad Cow’, as we popularly called it, was a common feature back then. And the big hype was on Boxing Day, December 26, when nearly the entire village, young and old, would head to the public road to view them, as they wended their way along.

It only took the voice of one villager to announce, `Bad Cow’ coming up the road!” and the villagers would abandon everything to view them. It was a common sight to see young and old of both sexes unable to resist the urge to join in the merriment and doing their `ting’ stride for stride with the flouncers. By the time the band/s had reached our village, they would have already travelled between three and six miles and would eventually end their journey at Anna Regina, some three miles further away.

It always amazed me how these guys never seem to get tired or worn out. Maybe it was because in every village they passed through they had samples of cake and ginger beer. It was a must that the flouncers had to have their little `tups’(liquor) to `wet’ the palate and which they claimed was the reason for the extra energy and spring in their steps.

The most feared masquerade bands were the ones that originated from Dartmouth Village or Devonshire Castle, because those ‘Bad Cow’ were generally very fierce. I vividly recall the encounters some people, both old and young, have had with those manmade animals, since they had no qualms about giving someone a ‘trench bath’. That was pure fun! And if anyone, unfortunately, had one, they never, ever, got annoyed instead, you were then joke for that moment!

Then there was the occasional boy or girl who had misbehaved, and if a parent happened to just utter a complaint, the ‘Bad Cow’ would become the disciplinarian and run after them, even if it meant having to collect that ‘bad’ child from under the parent’s bed.
It was sheer fun to see some children literally in tears, with `snot’ running out of their noses as they promised to be good.

Yes! I still remember those good old days! And am sure many other Essequibians share the same memories, and will also agree that Christmas without the ‘Bad Cow’ on the Essequibo Coast is no Christmas at all.

Masquerade celebrations are also common in villages such as Henrietta, Onderneeming, Queenstown, Charity and Supenaam. Playing was not only just for fun, as each masquerade band benefitted from monetary incentives they collect as they play, which is usually split up among the players.

VERY BUSY
Christmas Eve was, as usual, very busy at every household, and the community shops are normally crowded. At almost every home, one can inhale the refreshing aroma of freshly baked bread or cake which were mostly done in box ovens that were skillfully made, sometimes by one of the males of the household.

There was also the smell of the traditional pepperpot as it boiled most times on a coal pot or a mud fireside; the smell of fresh paint or varnish; ginger being ground to make ginger-beer, and not forgetting the sounds of constant nailing. Also in some homes one can hear the sound of a sewing machine as there was the last minute hurry to finish sewing the curtains or blinds. It was then customary in my village for the color and style of one’s Christmas curtains to be `top secret’ from neighbours until Christmas morning.

And how can I forget the tedious job that was given to us younger ones in each family, as we were tasked with washing the salt out of the ‘salt butter’ that made the cake. I remember how our faces would brighten up when the basin/s in which the ingredients for the cake were mixed was passed on to us. Sometimes a minor tussle would erupt just because one of the bowls given to one person would have more of the leftovers than the others. At that time mommy would have to intervene to end it all. Believe, you, me, that uncooked mixture tasted so good!

Christmas Eve night, it was fun to see children having fun and sometimes one or two elders even joined in, as they dressed in their parents’ old clothes and don masks made from cardboard with the hope of concealing their identity as they move from house to house singing carols. The accompanying music, most times, was from hitting a pots or bottles with either a fork or spoon, but it was much fun because the reward was cake, ginger beer and sweets.

During that time too decorating of the house was in full swing and one can inhale the beautiful smell of new plastic which was then popularly used as a tablecloth.
Amidst all of this, no child would forget to hand up the roughly-sewed made most times from an old vest to ensure that Santa Claus, when he visited as we were told and verily believed, can leave toys which as soon as we awaken would anxiously run to check out.

Christmas Day is usually a time for family; a time when all the delectable treats – pepperpot, baked chicken, the black, fruit and sponge cakes would be enjoyed as family members, relatives and friends would spread good cheer, with music of their choice while the children would be busy with their new toys. And in the midst of it all is the Guyanese liquor or a homemade concoction.