CAN ANYTHING GOOD COME FROM LAVENTILLE?

Much like they asked about Jersulalem in the time that Christ walked the earth, many are quick to retort “Can anything good come from Laventille?’’. To this I quickly “Hell Yeah! Just look at me”. But seriously though, this being perhaps my final post, I want to leave you with the ironic faces of Laventille..



Spree Simon (1930 – 18 April 1976)

Born in Rosehill Laventille, Winston ‘Spree’ Simon was the first leader of Destination Tokyo. He developed and played what is today known as the tenor pan, then called the ping pong. In 1943 the ping pong only had 8 notes but 1946 “Spree” Simon would make it carry eight. His real rise to fame when he played his pan on Broadway for Carnival in front of the likes to the then Governor and his wife, and the Lord Kitchener among others. To the delight of the cheering crowd, calypsos by the likes of Kitchener and other floated sweetly through the air as stick beat pan.



Herman Guppy “Brown”

On December 3rd of this year,the entire steelpan fraternity and Laventille, lost of their own with the passing of Herman Guppy “Brown”. Pan tuner extraordinaire, his steelpans are sought world over. Pan enthusiast swear that you could tell a Guppy pan by its distinctive look and sound. R.I.P Guppy.

Russell Latapy

A son of Laventille, Russel Latapy was fondly known as “The Little Magican” for his small stature but brilliance on the field of football. In a playing career that spanned 20 years he played at both club and international level. Winning Trinidad and Tobago’s Footballer of the Year on five occasion, “The Little Magician is a national football legend.

Kerene Asche

In 2011, with renditions “Uncle Jack” and “Careful What Yuh Ask For”, Karene Ashe became the youngest female to the title of Calypso Monarch. Daughter of Errol Ashe, Karene has calypso running through her very veins. Though young in age, Karene is quite mature when it comes to the art form of calypso, having entered the field at a tender age.


They are…....I am…..We are Laventille!

Our Lady of Laventille

 “When yuh reach Picton Road corner turn left yuh can’t miss it”. The directions were accurate, you couldn’t miss the church that towered over Picton Hill beckoning you to come. Like the guardian on the hills, “Our Lady of Laventille” R. C. church stands in glory, surveying all around it.

For this our second collaboration, I invited the other group members (Joanna, Trudy and Shanice), all of whom were introduced in the Gasparee Caves post. to enjoy a view from the hills where we visited "Our Lady of Laventille" and met with Fr. Dwight Merrick.

As you enter the gates, a stone arch resting on two stone pillars creates an ethereal view. You could almost hear the angels singing as you pass under. After walking up a short incline a stairway, that lead not to heaven but the stone building of the church, greets you. This church is truly a rustic beauty. One hundred and thirty years old, its structure dates all the way back to 1886.

At the top of the stairs, left to the entrance of the main doors of the church is the National Shrine of “Our Lady of Fatima”. In times past, The Shrine on the Hill was once “a rallying point for Trinidad’s Catholics, with various church societies and groups making days of devotion and pilgrimage on the Hill. Most gathered at the foot of Laventille Road and martched up reciting the chaplet.” Today, only the Way of the Cross procession continues. Starting, as in times past, at the foot of Laventille Road, pilgrims make the Stations of the Cross on the hillside, and spend the day in prayer and quiet at the church on the hill.

Back in1878, the church, then a humble structure, received a 30ft. Blessed Mary from France. This statue was christened the statue “Our Lady of Laventille”, Notre Dame de Laventile. It was in honour of this Blessed Lady that the church derived its name.

Though, pilgrimages to the church and its shrine has severely dwindled, it still acts as protector of the hills, and Trinidad, with its weekly prayer sessions conducted by members of “Our Lady of Laventille” prayer group.

 

PRAYER TO OUR LADY OF LAVENTILLE

O Immaculate Mother of the Son of God from the summit of that hill of Laventille, on which thou hast designed to choose sanctuary, cast down thy maternal glance on thy children of Trinidad on all who beseech thee; bless them, remove far from them all spiritual and temporal evil that threaten them, and lead them to the heaven of eternal bliss. Amen.

Gasparee Caves

As I told you guys and gyals in the first post, this blog is an assignment for a Social Media course. Well, one of thing we had to do was a group assignment where members of the group had to work on at least one project together. For this collaboration we decide to visit Gasparee Cave. Before we go any further, let me take this time to introduce you to the group members. First we have Joanna the “Do Gooder”, then there is “Hot Foot” Shanice, next we have Trudy our resident “Photo Takeouter” and last but not least, there’s me, Kerry-Ann “Native of the Hills”. 

We chose this expedition because it was well suited to each of our blogs. As it relates to “View from the Hills”, as was discussed in a previous post Laventille was once famous for its limestones, and, the Gasparee Caves were formed as a result of the limestones on the island, so Laventille and the Gasparee Caves are bonded by their limestones. According to the sign pictured below, “Over millions of years of wave action and slightly acidic rainfall created the limestone caverns and caves systems of Gasparee”.

One bright, and early, Saturday morning in November, Trudy, Shanice, Joanna and myself waited eagerly on the dock of the Island Property Owners Association to board the pirogue that would take us to Gasparee Islands. As we waited impatiently (we were over an hour early), we whispered among ourselves, each offering their silent prayers, hoping that we didn’t have to make our sea faring journey on one of the many minuscule pirogues that gently rode the waves before us. It was a sigh of great relief to us, when our tour guide welcomed us to embark on a clean and picturesque boat, not pirogue, but boat. “Ah go take boat over pirogue any day”.

On arrival on Gasparee Island, we strolled up an incline until we reached the path that would lead us to the cave.  There we saw “the natural wonders, sinkholes, a crystal pool that shimmers like glass, reflecting the colours of the light that filter through the caves.  After seeing the silhouettes of Michael Jackson, The Leper Man and Sugar Bum Bum, among others, formed by the shadows of the stalactites and stalagmites (google them and try not to bite yuh tongue when pronouncing), it was time to take the trek back up.  Going down was easy, and perhaps the excitement of seeing the inside of the caves for the first time, made it seem like a breeze. With the excitement gone, going back up felt like an odyssey, I had to stop countless times to “catch meh breath” and take a sip of water. I know what you’re thinking: “Buh Kerry-Ann, yuh from Laventille, you should be used to climbing up and down hill”. Well, let me correct you pronto, I am used to driving, NOT WALKING, up and down hill.

All in all, we had a great time and seeing the inside of the caves was worth the trip, odyssey back up and all. So for those of you who haven’t been, I would recommend taking the tour it was a great experience. You’ll have to wait for next year though, all tours are closed till 2016.

Here are a few more pictures of the trip to enjoy.

HISTORY OF THE HILLS (The Journey from Drums to Pan) II

In the 1930s, being poor, Laventille residents, unable to afford traditional instruments like the guitar and violin, began experimenting. Experiments began with rudimentary instruments made from scraps of metals. Old hub caps, paint tins, milk pans, biscuit tins and even pots were used. In fact, the biscuit tin was said to be used to make the first true pan that was hung around the player’s neck using string. This first pan, like a drum, was beat with the palm of the hand and not sticks.

This biscuit tin pan was nurtured and developed until it became our beloved steelpan of today. The steelpan was given life and nurtured among the people of Laventille with John John being officially recognised as the birthplace of pan. Created among outcasts, the steelpan was itself considered a derelict only to be played by the low class of society. But, like the biblical block discarded by the builder, the steel pan would endure to become the chief corner stone and the toast of a proud nation.

So next carnival, when yuh chipping down the road to the sweet, hypnotic sounds of pan, listen for the spirit of the shango drums and dash some rum on the ground for the forefathers of pan. And remember, that it was Laventille that ensured “the forbidden drums survived to instill their spirit in the very heart of the steelpan where the drumbeat and heartbeat are inseparable.”


N.B Much of the information obtained for this post, including the quotation in the last line, came from the following website: http://www.steelisland.com/history.asp

HISTORY OF THE HILLS (The Journey from Drums to Steelpan) I

The drums have long held an important steeple in Afro Trinidadian culture. It was one of the few traditions the slave were able to retain after slavery stripped them from the motherland and forced them to discard their culture, religion and rituals. 

On July 31, 1834 as the stroke of the clock herald in a new day, it ushered with it the end of slavery in Trinidad. On August 1st, no longer bondage, ex-slaves celebrated their freedom by re-enacting “Cannes Brulees” the French burning of the canes festival. To these ex-slaves, “Cannes Brulees”, soon to be Canboulay, to these ex-slaves a symbolised their liberty from plantation life, and all the evils that came with it. To them, Canne Brulee represented the dawn of a new era. To celebrate their freedom, the ex-slaves would turn to the drum.

Fearing revolts, the ruling class soon banned the August 1st Canboulay celebrations. Ironically, it was this ban that caused the the ex-slaves, with the tenacity of freed men, to protest forcing the ruling class to reconsider. Thus, on August 1st 1884, the ex-slaves were once again allowed to hold their Canboulay celebrations. Still fearing insurrection, the beating of drums were banned as they believed the Africans would use it to communicate their coded messages. However, in the hills of Laventille, where there the Shango religion strived, the Africans were openly resistant and continued with their drumming, a vital part of their rituals. 

Re-enaction of the Canboulay Riots

The people of Laventille, the driving force behind the Canboulay celebrations, unable to bring their drums, turned to the tamboo bamboo instrument, “tambour” being the French word for drum, to accompany their celebrations. They quickly learned that the constant hitting of the bamboo on the ground necessary to produce the drum like sounds, causes several injuries to the “drummer”, and the bamboo itself, ill suited for this type of pounding, split easily. They would need another instrument.

(To Be Continued In Next Post)

N.B Much of the information obtained for this post, including the quotation in the last came from the following website: http://www.steelisland.com/history.asp

HISTORY OF THE HILLS (Drums of Yoruba Town)

Slavery brought to the shores of this island, Yoruba men and women from Ghana, Nigeria, Benin and Togo. After emancipation, a large number of these ex-slaves moved to the areas that surrounded Port of Spain. What we know today as Laventille, Morvant, Belmont and Gonsalves were once one community called "Yoruba Village" or "Yoruba Town".

Finally, free from the plantations, in a place they could consider home, the Yoruba people practiced and maintained their traditions as much as they could. Among the traditions they refused to let go was their flare for drumming. To the Yoruba, the drum was a sacred instrument. It was used as a form of prayer, a call of exultation, a call for help and a call of celebration.

During times of slavery, the drums were used to invoke the spirits of their ancestors. It was one of the few connections the slaves  still had to mother Africa. When the rigors and inhumanity of slavery forced spirits low, the beating of the drums herald in hope. After emancipation, during the colonial days, the drums carried the ex-slaves through the hardships of colonial oppression and held a supreme post in their celebrations.

Fearing the drum, the rulers of the day passed laws banning the beating of drums. Nevertheless, the people of "Yoruba Town" kept the tradition of drumming alive and ensured that it was passed on from generation to generation.

Laventille ensured that this tradition of drumming endured by nurturing a multitude of drummers and groups in its hills. In this spirit, each year, the community hosts the Yoruba Drum Festival, one of the major highlights leading up to Emancipation Day.

Sadly, today, apart from the drums, the only evidence of  Yoruba Town's existence, is the Yoruba Square located near Besson Street, just opposite Deliverance Temple.

The next time you happen to pass by Yoruba Square, remember that it is a testament of Yoruba Town and the strength of its  people, who were able to keep their tradition of drumming alive, even to this day, against insurmountable odds.

History of the Hills (DID YOU KNOW?)

Continuing where we left off, the following are a few interesting facts about Laventille's history.


Did you know that Laventille was once called Freetown?Laventille was once a Yoruba Town nicked named “Free Town”. Many of the freed creoles who migrated to Trinidad from other Caribbean islands sought refuge in the hills that over looked Port of Spain. Also, after the emancipation of slavery, upon fleeing the plantations, many of the ex-slaves joined their already freed brothers and found refuge in the hills that overlooked Port of Spain, adding yet another layer to the name “Free Town”. There they were fed and housed by the bountiful land.



Did you know that Laventille was once the defender of Port of Spain?
In 1797, after becoming governor of Trinidad, Sir Thomas Picton, was determined to protect his island from foes both seen, and unseen. He wanted a way to defend the capital of Port of Spain without building a series of forts all around it. His thus eyes diverted to the Laventille Hills that overlooked Port of Spain.

Meticulously, Governor Picton built a Fort Picton, with walls he believed to be cannon proof. The Fort was officially opened in 1798. Though Fort Picton was never actually used, remnants of the Fort, pictured below, still remain today; a reminder of a time with Laventille was the protector of Port of Spain.


Fort Picton, Laventille | Photograph: Copyright Noel Norton





Did you know that Laventille was home to quarries?

Quarrying in Laventille (1910)


The Laventille quarries, when they existed, where famous for their blue limestones. They supplied material that was used to develop Port of Spain and environs for centuries. Some of the buildings constructed from Laventille’s blue limestones include:

· Governor’s (President’s) House (1876)

· Stollmeyer’s Castle (1904)

· Police Headquarters (1892)

· St James Barracks (1827)

· Royal Gaol (1812)

· Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception (1816-32)

These limestones fondly referred to as “blue metal” was easy to manipulate, pretty and and durable. Extricated in slabs, the raw material was carted down to building sites where skilled masons cut them into pieces and fitted them like jigsaw puzzles.

In addition to erecting buildings, Laventille’s “blue metal” played a significant part in reclaiming the Port of Spain harbor and the development of Sea Lots. The consequential use of these lime stones was in the construction of the Churchhill-Rosevelt Highway.



Do you know how Observatory Street got its name?
In 1783, Spanish astronomer, Don Cosmo, built an observatory in the hills of Laventille. Access was needed to and from the observatory. A road was thus built leading up to it. The street was aptly named Observatory Street.





The construction of this observatory in 1783 meant that Laventille was home to the first meridian of the New World. Originally called “Charruca Observatory”, today however, Charruca’s building is called Fort Chacon.

Fort Chacon is the only fort in Trinidad that has never actually been a fort.

History of The Hills (What's In A Name?)



One of my favourite quotes comes from Marcus Garvey and it says: “A people without the knowledge of their past history, origin and culture is like a tree without roots.” I think that one of the factors that contribute towards the many ills that Laventille as a community faces, is a lack of knowledge about its past. As a community, many of us don’t know our origins and the historical contributions that the community of Laventille made to the development of this country. So for these next couple of posts, I will be taking a little look at the history of Laventille.

The name Laventille can be traced back to our colonial past. Historical sources say that the French nicknamed it “La Ventaille”, meaning "The Vent", because the northern trade winds hit the hills of Laventille before any other part of Port of Spain or its environs. Eventually, “La Ventaille” became Laventille. As a child growing up I remember finding it odd that my grandmother, and few of the other elderly neigbours, would pronounce Laventille as “Laventee”. However, given what I now know about the French origins of the name, and the little I remember from secondary school French (sorry Ms. Richardson), “Laventee” would have been how the French pronounced it.

Recently however, while doing research on the Our Lady of Laventille R.C. Church that perches atop Laventille Road, I came across an undated publication written by Fr. Leahy O.P and Errol Cooper sometime in the late 1960s or early 1970s. The authors say that their research led them to believe that Laventille got its name not from the French but from the Spanish. According to their research, in 1757, after the Governor’s residence was destroyed, the predominantly Spanish population of Trinidad was unwilling to rebuild it in St. Joseph, reconstructing it in Port of Spain instead. However, many of the Spanish population still lived in St. Joseph with little means of communication, and transportation, between the two areas. A rudimentary road was thus constructed between Port of Spain and St. Joseph but need soon arose for a rest station. A “ventilla” or inn was constructed at the halfway point joining Port of Spain to San Juan. Later the Spanish “La Ventilla” became the French “Laventille” with the spelling used today.


So where do you think the name Laventille originates? Is it from the French “La Ventaille” or the Spanish “La Ventilla”?

Laventile (Love Until) - FINAL 

Shaking her head, Ma got up slowly and went inside, leaving me alone with the sound of croaking frogs, buzzing mosquitoes and melancholy thoughts. This was not the Laventille of my childhood. Young boys who once sat in the same class together, who played pitch and rounders in the school yard together, now in opposing gangs, ‘warring’ each other. And, young girls think they’re worth no more than ‘ah two piece an fries’.  It seems they have forgotten that their fathers scorched melody from old rusty oil drum. Ma was right, this place had changed.

That night, a lingering thought lulled me to sleep.………….“What was there left to love?”

The following morning the gentle glow of the sun blew kisses through laced curtains, landing on my forehead, nudging me awake. I yawned, got out of bed, and opened my bedroom window.

“Morning Aunty Carlene” squealed a tiny voice.

“Who said that?”

“Me”

“Me……. Who?”

“Me……Me, Aunty Carlene”

“Or……. Franny!”

“Yes Aunty Carlene……Me”

Franny was my neighbour’s three year old granddaughter. Too short to see over the banister, every morning she would peep through the fancy bricks of their veranda waiting to see my bedroom window open for us to play this game.

“Morning Ms. Vergie”

“Morning Carlene. Look ah leave a hand of fig for granny on the back step.”

“Alright, thanks Ms. Vergie. I will go for it now. Bye Franny”

“Bye Aunty Carlene”

Waving, I smiled, drew back the curtains then went to the back of the house. Just as I stooped to pick up the figs, I heard a rustle in the bushes. Tracing the sound, I was charmed to see a large iguana carefully making its way up the bark of an ancient bacano tree. It climbed to the top of this never ending tree, scurried across a branch and stood surveying its surrounding. I knew then, as I admired my green friend with the hand of green figs in my hand, that I would love this place called Laventille until it learned to love itself again.

Laventille (Love Until) - Part III

Being ‘born and raised’, and still living, in these hills of Laventille means existing in a state of perpetual conflict, forever straddling that invisible line between love and hate. The older you were the more difficult it became, for every now and then you had to contend with the jumbies of what once was. Those mind tormenting ghosts that haunted those old enough to remember how things used to be.

A prisoner of habit, whenever these jumbies surfaced, Ma would go in the gallery and sit on that old iron rocking chair of hers. The one her deceased husband bought as an anniversary present long before I was born.  No longer white, areas of chipped paint exposed rusted fragments beneath. Ma’s chair stood out among its much younger wooden counterparts. It looked like its creator made thousands of small letter Xs and joined them together to form the seat and back rest. After all these years of sitting though, some of these Xs started to separate, so Ma had to put a cushion down before she sat. Usually, I would leave her to her thoughts, but this night I didn’t.  For a while, she sat in silence ignoring my presence. Then, as if we had always been conversing, she started.

“Yuh know long ago they used to call here Free Town?”

“Where Ma? Laventille? Why?”

“During slavery when de free coloureds from other countries come to Trinidad, dey found refuge in these hills; here and Belmont. So dey start to call it Free Town. Is ah good thing dey change de name, because dis town ain’t free no more…………. Chile, long time these hills used to be different. People used to have ah pride for de place. Nowadays is only violence. Ah sure if dey start quarrying up here again, yuh go see all de blue limestone dey used to mine turn red wit all dis blood shedding.”