‘Welcome to Donkey City’

As Chalkie once sang “Yuh cyar beat a Trinidadian” ... and in this neck of the woods you’ve simply got to learn to laugh or you’re liable to go stark, staring, raving mad and you might as well join any one of the political parties — real or imaginary — where your “normality” would hardly be questioned. In what other country would, given the existence of a curfew, the priority become the organising of as many “curfew parties” as possible? OK, OK, we’re a happy-go-lucky, fete-loving lot, but how do you explain taking to the streets in a seemingly “last lap” jump up in the face of a public warning that we’re virtually hours from an imminent direct hurricane hit?

It’s no wonder that calypsonian Duke lamented that, “We’re not a serious people at all.” Calypsonian Maestro, addressing “Mr Trinidadian,” claimed that, “our sense of reasoning goes and comes” — mostly goes, I might add, and Maestro continues, “We come like de ass in de lion’s skin.” I suppose only a calypsonian can get away with such public derision — and we laughing. We appear to be past masters at lampooning ourselves and find an outlet for this talent in our ol’ mas’ bands. However our talent for assuming other personalities, even animal personae, can, on occasion, come in handy. I once heard a story (for whose veracity, I cannot vouch) that a Trini, during the days of the great depression in England, fell on hard times and accepted employment in a circus “playing lion” since the owner could not afford the full complement of lions. So Mr “part-time lion” rose to the occasion, as only a Trini can, as he roared, pranced and pawed the air as if “he was to the manner born.”

As they say, “bad luck take he,” because at the end of the show the part-time lions and the true-true lions were, inadvertently placed in the same holding bays. Our “local lion” almost gave up the ghost when he was accosted by another lion. How he must have found out, the hard way, what “an ass in a lion’s skin” felt like, until he discovered that he wasn’t the only Trini in a lion’s skin. Incidentally, this “ass-in-a-lion’s skin” role has been replicated on the political scene far more often than we’re prepared to admit. To change the topic, somewhat slightly, “When last did you see a donkey or hear an ass bray? “Don’t answer, don’t answer it’s not what you’re thinking of, although I’m aware that our politicians consider each other as donkeys.” To return to the serious side of my question. I once read a report that there are about three dozen or so donkeys in the entire twin-island state of Trinidad and Tobago. Where are they? Well your guess is as good as mine. Now there are two points we ought to be clear on. The first is that specific studies have shown that contrary to popular perception, the donkey is quite an intelligent animal. Secondly, not every donkey is an ass and not every ass is a donkey.

Due to the volcanic eruption in a smaller island up North, two dozen or so donkeys had to be evacuated. I believe that they ended in Grenada. My own view is that Grenada’s gain has been our loss. Can you imagine the sort of welcome they could have received at our wharves with banners reading, “Welcome to Donkey City.” Accommodation shouldn’t be that difficult to arrange. For a start, we could place them above the Red House, in place of the dragon or dove, so that one can achieve an intellectual if not biological balance. If you think that I’m skating on thin ice here, I might point out that a certain parliamentarian once fumed, “I’m no tadpole” and threatened to return to parliament, after the general election, as “the great white shark.” Political sardines, please take note. So if, gentle reader, at some future date you happen to observe the “Mighty Sharkie” (shall we say?) cavorting somewhere at sea, with “true-true sharks,” let not your heart be troubled, as the good book said, it’s only a “would-be shark” attempting to resolve an identity problem — and, at the very worst, ending up as the “great white shark,” destined to eat the political sardines, raw! The risk of being eaten by an aquatic shark would, I expect, be minimal, as even real sharks may find it difficult “to stomach politicians.”

Incidentally, there was a Tobagonian who successfully wrestled (literally) sharks for a living, and the entertainment of tourists. Ironically, he met his death, while eating, when a fish bone stuck in his throat. I’m not sure, but I believe his name was Anthony. I was a bit taken aback when the “great white shark” was introduced by his then Prime Minister, Basdeo Panday as “an old warhorse.” Like his boss, the fellow appears to have a dual identity problem or experiencing a multiple identity crisis. If I’ve laboured the point of “horses and donkeys in parliament” a bit too much, it’s Basdeo Panday to blame, because he’s the man who stated categorically that, there are “horses” on his side of the House and donkeys on the opposite side. He subsequently discovered that he not only had some donkeys but what he called “jackasses” as well on his own side of the “stable.” I wouldn’t be inclined to make a big deal of Mr Panday’s “observation” that there are “donkeys” in our parliament. After all, he should know, having been a member of parliament for “donkey years.” Having a donkey in parliament (or an additional donkey, if you accept Panday’s thesis) should present no insuperable problem. Braying is braying in any language. The “equal opportunity act” should ensure that any “Trini to the bone” should not be able to lord it over any “Donkey to the stone.” Where are our constitutional lawyers in all this?