Tweet
Will Supermac save the day?
BARBARA GLOUDON
Friday, May 16, 2008
THE BATTLE between the criminal elements and us has been going on for so long that it is easy to believe that all is now lost. In that atmosphere, it is understandable that when anything appears looking remotely like a glimmer of light, we rush towards it, desperate for salvation at last.
This could account for the almost Messianic hopes some are attaching to the appointment of Col Trevor MacMillan as minister of national security. When a nation has to face an incident like the one in a busy shopping plaza in Half Way Tree a few mornings ago, when a young man calmly shot a young woman to death in the presence of many people and then "tek weh himself" on foot, then we know that we're in very serious trouble. If only Superman could come and take charge.
There are people who are convinced that Col MacMillan is the one to tame the savage beast. After all, didn't he devise a wholea Crime Plan which bears his name? Never mind that he has more grey hairs than Derrick Smith, his predecessor who, unfortunately, was laid low by ill health which must be exacerbated now by his summary dismissal. Some people (the private sector, for instance) are convinced that Mac is the Chosen One.
Cops, smarting at his unabashed predilection to chop them down to size, are waiting to see what will be different from when the colonel was commissioner of police. Can he tame the savage beasts? Is he the Superman Jamaica has been waiting for? "If he proceeds as a one-man band then it will be one big waste of time. The name of the game is team. I hope he knows that," says one of the usual sceptics, while a pragmatist responds: "Give the man a chance. What other option do we have in the present situation?"
DUAL CITIZENSHIP: The arguments continue. Interesting to see the letters coming in from foreign, indicating that not everyone has bought into the hysteria which would suggest that anyone holding dual citizenship will be at a disadvantage should they return from foreign to resettle here.
The attempt to distort the reality of the connection between constitutional requirements and qualification for public office has become trivialised and skewed by malice aforethought or ignorance. Now that the truth is out in the open, we should give the dual citizenship argument a rest. Don't hold your breath. For sure it is going to come up on the agenda of the diaspora conference to be held here next month.
RICE STORIES: Before we share two more "rice stories" contributed by readers, take note that Minister of Trade, Commerce and Investment Karl Samuda this week concluded a deal whereby some 9,000 tonnes of rice have been obtained from the US for the nation's stores, to cope with any threatened shortage in the near future.
In the process, the minister also negotiated his way past a threatened feud with Guyana who could not fill the order we had made, but threatened reprisal when we sought to access the commodity from outside Caricom. There was also the matter of the Common External Tariff (CET) from which Jamaica sought exemption, seeing that the rice was bought outside the region. This led to some wrangling, but eventually the matter was resolved. Peace has been negotiated between Guyana and us. The promise has been obtained for them to supply us, when called on, with a fair portion of our rice needs.
All things being equal, Mr Samuda deserves plaudits for a job well done, but National Security has hijacked the spotlight. Veteran politician that he is, Mr Samuda no doubt takes it in his stride. He now advises that the government intends to venture into rice-growing, with private-sector partnership. He is sensible enough not to start boasting on the outcome. "Nothing beats a try" is more his mood despite the well-known challenges...
SO, TO THE PROMISED RICE STORIES: "Better even than the product itself," says Dave Rodney from New Jersey, who has been enjoying the anecdotes from our readers in past columns.
PLANTING AT JOB'S LANE: "I too remember the days of people planting rice in Jamaica. My grandparents planted rice when they lived on Job's Lane (St Catherine), not so long ago. The road now runs through what used to be their property from the intersection at Job's Lane (where the Examination Depot is), back to nearly the intersection with St John's Road. Many people of Indian descent, who lived there and in and around the communities of Spanish Town, used to plant rice watered by the irrigation canals that ran through their properties.
"As children, during holiday time we used to go there and help with the "threshing" (that is, beating the rice grains off the stalks). Boy, the cuts and slices we would get which would burn like hell when we took a bath! But I remember, too, the beautiful sight of the rice paddy when the rice had just sprouted and looked like a lovely green lawn before it was transplanted into the fields.
"Then the grains would be bagged and taken to the rice mill in the heart of Spanish Town. This was not so long ago since I am not that old, and I have vivid memories of this. I remember, too, that my grandmother had even gone and planted rice on the banks of the Martha Brae in Trelawny.
"We might have lost the people who knew how to plant rice through their passing, but I am sure the skill can be learnt again." (Aloun Assamba, former tourism minister.)
BEEAH IN HANOVER: "As a child, my parents, Lloyd and Ivelyn Linton, planted rice in Santoy, Hanover. We would go in the swampy area and draw what was called "Beeah". These are thick clumps of the plant grown from seeds. We transplanted them into rows but in smaller portions. When it was time to reap, my parents would invite my Uncle Randall and other friends to help. My mom would always be 'rowing a big boat' near the work site.
"The plant which had the rice seeds on it was covered by crocus bags (sewn like a sheet) and spread in a circle. Everyone would walk around in a circle with a piece of stick and beat the rice to separate it from the plant which became the trash.
"My uncle used to sing a song, Wha mek fowl nuh pee-pee. This has been stored in my long-term memory. It was always fun to hear the bass grunting, and the unison of the men singing and chanting.
"When the rice was separated, it would be placed in 100-lb crocus bags and taken to Mahabee's mill in Santoy. My four sisters (Clover, Carla, Denva, Lavern) and I would look forward to riding on the donkey cart to the mill. That was sheer fun. I can recall one summer, we were not allowed to go to the beach until we went "to draw Beeah". So we got up about 5:00 a.m., went to the bush and did our part and got the entire day off to enjoy the beach." (Marie Linton-Sterling, Montego Bay.)
BARBARA GLOUDON
Friday, May 16, 2008
THE BATTLE between the criminal elements and us has been going on for so long that it is easy to believe that all is now lost. In that atmosphere, it is understandable that when anything appears looking remotely like a glimmer of light, we rush towards it, desperate for salvation at last.
This could account for the almost Messianic hopes some are attaching to the appointment of Col Trevor MacMillan as minister of national security. When a nation has to face an incident like the one in a busy shopping plaza in Half Way Tree a few mornings ago, when a young man calmly shot a young woman to death in the presence of many people and then "tek weh himself" on foot, then we know that we're in very serious trouble. If only Superman could come and take charge.
There are people who are convinced that Col MacMillan is the one to tame the savage beast. After all, didn't he devise a wholea Crime Plan which bears his name? Never mind that he has more grey hairs than Derrick Smith, his predecessor who, unfortunately, was laid low by ill health which must be exacerbated now by his summary dismissal. Some people (the private sector, for instance) are convinced that Mac is the Chosen One.
Cops, smarting at his unabashed predilection to chop them down to size, are waiting to see what will be different from when the colonel was commissioner of police. Can he tame the savage beasts? Is he the Superman Jamaica has been waiting for? "If he proceeds as a one-man band then it will be one big waste of time. The name of the game is team. I hope he knows that," says one of the usual sceptics, while a pragmatist responds: "Give the man a chance. What other option do we have in the present situation?"
DUAL CITIZENSHIP: The arguments continue. Interesting to see the letters coming in from foreign, indicating that not everyone has bought into the hysteria which would suggest that anyone holding dual citizenship will be at a disadvantage should they return from foreign to resettle here.
The attempt to distort the reality of the connection between constitutional requirements and qualification for public office has become trivialised and skewed by malice aforethought or ignorance. Now that the truth is out in the open, we should give the dual citizenship argument a rest. Don't hold your breath. For sure it is going to come up on the agenda of the diaspora conference to be held here next month.
RICE STORIES: Before we share two more "rice stories" contributed by readers, take note that Minister of Trade, Commerce and Investment Karl Samuda this week concluded a deal whereby some 9,000 tonnes of rice have been obtained from the US for the nation's stores, to cope with any threatened shortage in the near future.
In the process, the minister also negotiated his way past a threatened feud with Guyana who could not fill the order we had made, but threatened reprisal when we sought to access the commodity from outside Caricom. There was also the matter of the Common External Tariff (CET) from which Jamaica sought exemption, seeing that the rice was bought outside the region. This led to some wrangling, but eventually the matter was resolved. Peace has been negotiated between Guyana and us. The promise has been obtained for them to supply us, when called on, with a fair portion of our rice needs.
All things being equal, Mr Samuda deserves plaudits for a job well done, but National Security has hijacked the spotlight. Veteran politician that he is, Mr Samuda no doubt takes it in his stride. He now advises that the government intends to venture into rice-growing, with private-sector partnership. He is sensible enough not to start boasting on the outcome. "Nothing beats a try" is more his mood despite the well-known challenges...
SO, TO THE PROMISED RICE STORIES: "Better even than the product itself," says Dave Rodney from New Jersey, who has been enjoying the anecdotes from our readers in past columns.
PLANTING AT JOB'S LANE: "I too remember the days of people planting rice in Jamaica. My grandparents planted rice when they lived on Job's Lane (St Catherine), not so long ago. The road now runs through what used to be their property from the intersection at Job's Lane (where the Examination Depot is), back to nearly the intersection with St John's Road. Many people of Indian descent, who lived there and in and around the communities of Spanish Town, used to plant rice watered by the irrigation canals that ran through their properties.
"As children, during holiday time we used to go there and help with the "threshing" (that is, beating the rice grains off the stalks). Boy, the cuts and slices we would get which would burn like hell when we took a bath! But I remember, too, the beautiful sight of the rice paddy when the rice had just sprouted and looked like a lovely green lawn before it was transplanted into the fields.
"Then the grains would be bagged and taken to the rice mill in the heart of Spanish Town. This was not so long ago since I am not that old, and I have vivid memories of this. I remember, too, that my grandmother had even gone and planted rice on the banks of the Martha Brae in Trelawny.
"We might have lost the people who knew how to plant rice through their passing, but I am sure the skill can be learnt again." (Aloun Assamba, former tourism minister.)
BEEAH IN HANOVER: "As a child, my parents, Lloyd and Ivelyn Linton, planted rice in Santoy, Hanover. We would go in the swampy area and draw what was called "Beeah". These are thick clumps of the plant grown from seeds. We transplanted them into rows but in smaller portions. When it was time to reap, my parents would invite my Uncle Randall and other friends to help. My mom would always be 'rowing a big boat' near the work site.
"The plant which had the rice seeds on it was covered by crocus bags (sewn like a sheet) and spread in a circle. Everyone would walk around in a circle with a piece of stick and beat the rice to separate it from the plant which became the trash.
"My uncle used to sing a song, Wha mek fowl nuh pee-pee. This has been stored in my long-term memory. It was always fun to hear the bass grunting, and the unison of the men singing and chanting.
"When the rice was separated, it would be placed in 100-lb crocus bags and taken to Mahabee's mill in Santoy. My four sisters (Clover, Carla, Denva, Lavern) and I would look forward to riding on the donkey cart to the mill. That was sheer fun. I can recall one summer, we were not allowed to go to the beach until we went "to draw Beeah". So we got up about 5:00 a.m., went to the bush and did our part and got the entire day off to enjoy the beach." (Marie Linton-Sterling, Montego Bay.)