As part of these Celebrations to mark Jamaica’s 50th Anniversary of Political Independence, the JamKit Association will be hosting a JAMAICAN FOOD FAIR at Independence Square in Basseterre on Saturday, 11 August 2012 that will run between the hours of 11:00am and 3:00pm.  Caribbean food connoisseurs and the wider community are invited out to this taste fest, which will feature a modestly wide array of culinary delights from the island, which boast of food tradition as ancient and diverse as its music.

The purpose of the food fair will be predominantly to promote the island’s culture through food. It will feature the expected fare, such as, ackee and salt-fish (the national dish), jerk chicken, curried chicken, curried goat, brown stewed chicken, fish and festival.  There will, however, be some more unique delicacies including mannish water and mackerel rundung (a coconut milk based dish which sautés the mackerel).

Of particular interest to some will be the fact that some of these food traditions hark back to Jamaica’s pre-Colombian heritage, with “Jerk” being a derivative seasoning and cooking style of under-earth curing and cooking of meat once used by the Taino and Ciboney indigenous groups, and then retained by the buccaneers of the Caribbean’s imperial era.  Of particular note with the reference to buccaneering is the fact that the name ‘bucanneer’ derives from the Arawaki language word buccan, which referred to a rack frame, generally made of wood, used by Indigenous peoples to smoke meats.  The members of the JamKit Association, organizers of the Food Fair, have indicated their keen desire for the residents of the Federation to come out and enjoy the food and feting that accompanies all eating experiences in Jamaica.  The Association looks forward to a fun and enjoyable day for all. [Food and drink purchases can be made at the venue.

JAMAICA HOUSE

As the Patron of Honour for Jamaica50 Canada and the first Jamaican to be appointed to the Senate, I want to wish Jamaicans all over the world a joyous 50th Anniversary of Independence, as well as highlight 50 years of diplomatic relations between Jamaica and Canada.

This occasion comes as Commonwealth Nations across the globe commemorate the 178th anniversary of the abolition of the slave trade in the British Empire; an event which positioned countries like Jamaica for the pursuit of independence over a century later.

As we celebrate, it is important to remember bold visionaries like the Right Excellent Norman Manley and the Right Excellent Sir Alexander Bustamante who dreamed of a better and brighter Jamaica. They envisioned an independent nation that would stand shoulder to shoulder with the nations of the world.

At the London conference in 1962, Premier Norman Manley proclaimed to his British counterparts and the world, “The road ends, Mr. Secretary, at a time when all empires decline; when colonialism has become a word of ugly meaning; when the sun sets ‘round the world chiefly in the flags of free peoples with whom we hope soon to walk in peace and friendship; when late, but more than ready, we join the great company of the new nations of the world.”

It is this dream that has guided Jamaica over the past 50 years.

Since then Jamaica has built a reputation as a regional and international centre for culture, hospitality, and athletics. We have become an incubator for world-class musical talent, a training ground for some of the best athletes in the world, and a launch pad for top notch professionals.

As we celebrate our collective successes, let us also ready ourselves for the opportunities before us. In the future, strategic partners like Canada will continue to play a vital role in the growth and development of Jamaica through trade, capacity building, and investment.

Looking ahead, the possibilities are endless. As Jamaicans, we are industrious people who understand the value of hard work. We are also a people of faith who have inherited an unwavering trust in God. Faith and hard work will continue to guide us as we tap into the unlimited potential of Jamaicans everywhere, leaving a legacy of progress and prosperity for future generations.

May Justice and Truth be ours forever. Let’s Jump for Jamaica.

The Honourable Dr. Don Meredith, Senator

The instantly recognisable trademark with the wordsJamaica 50 a nation on a mission and bearing the national symbol, the Swallowtail Hummingbird in ascendancy, has been registered with the Jamaica Intellectual Property Office (JIPO), and carries theTM mark, showing that it is a legally recognised designation. The Jamaica 50 designation has been trademarked in Jamaica, 27 other countries and counting.

Merchandise being sold in Jamaica, and internationally, purporting to be official of Jamaica 50 merchandise is being keenly monitored by officials of the Ministry of Youth and Culture through the Jamaica 50 secretariat to ensure that the public is protected from bogus goods and that the rights of licensees are protected.

Products that use the Jamaica 50 trademark and events that have not been licensed to use the logo are counterfeit and bogus and manufacturers and vendors considered to be pirating the trademark.  Action will be taken to remove those products from marketplaces and legal options for redress pursued.

The Jamaica 50 website Jamaica50.com carries the list of authorised manufacturers of Jamaica 50 merchandise and also retail outlets. Members of the public are urged to contactjamica50office@gmail.com;jamaica50licensing@gmail.com and telephone 978-7654 to report suspected piracy.

The National Sport Museum Committee which was mandated by Prime Minister Portia Simpson Miller with the task of establishing a National Sport Museum said the staging of this Jamaica Sport Exhibit marks the completion of an important initial phase of its assignment.

The Sport Exhibit highlights Jamaica’s rich and vibrant sporting journey over the 50 years of independence and will be showcased through imagery, information and artifacts of some of the nation’s outstanding sporting stars across different sporting disciplines.

Among some of the many important and interesting artifacts that will be on display are the track shoes of Jamaica’s first female Olympian, Cynthia Thompson, and certificates, medals and autographed jerseys of the Honourable Herb McKenley.

Photographs and scrapbooks from the country’s first professional footballer, Lloyd ‘Lindy’ Delapenha; medals; dance and skating suits of Special Olympian, Nigel Davis; and medals from the collection of Olympian Juliet Cuthbert as well as her national team jacket. The exhibit will showcase other interesting articles from athletes in other disciplines such as the test match kit from cricket all-rounder O’Neil Gordon “Collie” Smith.

The Hummer, a 1980 vehicle from the once popular Jamaica Push Cart Derby is also expected to be available for display. In the field of horseracing, the major trophy earned by legendary native-born thoroughbred, Miracle Man, has also been secured by the curator of the exhibit.

Visitors will be assisted through the exhibit by volunteer guides from the National Youth Service, the National Council for Senior Citizens and the Jamaica Council for Persons with Disabilities.

After the grand staging at Independence Park, the Jamaica Sport Exhibit will be mounted at the Montego Bay Convention Centre.

The exhibit will be officially launched on Friday (July 27) at Jamaica House at 10 a.m.

- OFFICE OF THE PRIME MINISTER

Over the next several newsletters we’ll share some of the other competition entries that made it into the top 10.

Grand Prize Winner, Camille Williams – Ajax, Ontario CANADA

Freedom Tongue

“Good morning, how are you?”
When I really mean, “Mawnin, how yuh do?”
Colourful vernacular paints the corners of my mind,
Eager to confront the world with my point of view
Though conditioned to use the Queen’s English,
I gravitate towards those wild refrains
Choose different words, better words, I am told, but how can I resist?
How can I resist the chance to honour them, resurrect them,
Immortalize them who gave me this sweet song?
This patois, this amorphous dialect,
So refined and delicate to the trained ear and open heart

Battles have been fought for this in-between tongue
Soldiers walk with arsenals of grammar and spelling,
Ready to strike for the right twang, the right to twang
But like many before me and beside me, the joy is in the freedom,
Freedom of words frolicking to their own melody
Even when it’s mostly unspoken, the laughter of my mother tongue,
My mother’s tongue
Connects me to the legacy of home,
The wonder of my people,
The fellowship of family

And when the day’s work is done
I take up residence with history
A history both misunderstood and cherished
To deliver me in ways no other can
To mis-educate myself and journey this bless-ed freedom tongue
Yours to discover with a little imagination
My dear brave reader, I bid you “Good evening, take care”
Or better yet, “Likkle more, walk good.”

Second Place Winner, Loraine Lee – Toronto, Ontario CANADA

Innocent Times

We grew up in the quiet town of Bath, St. Thomas. My parents operated a grocery and rum bar at the foot of Fountain Road, leading up to Bath Mineral Fountains, and directly in front of Bath Botanical Gardens. My eldest brother was sent back to China to learn some culture, and Frankie and I (Moy) remained.

Papa had the respect of everyone. “Manager” was very strict, but also very fair. He spoke to us children in Chinese (Hakka), and we dared not answer in English, or we would get a gat chuck (Knuckle in the head) or worse, beaten with the broom stick. Mama was the only woman from China in our town.

Frankie and I attended Bath Primary School. Those were happy days, but being the only two Chinese in a school of 400 students, we had to fight for respect. No one could say “Chin Chong my-a” to me without getting t’umped, and if I couldn’t handle them, I would call on my big brother.

One recess, Enid Johnson and I were clapping to Miss Mary Mack Mack Mack, when boasie (boastful) Beverly Roberts pushed herself between us. We kept telling her to move but she ignored us. So I shoved her hard and she fell on the ground, ripping her new dress. Screaming, she ran home “Mama, Moy push mi down and tear mi dress.”
Beverly was the only child of hoity-toity Monica Roberts, and they lived in a new two-storey house down by Bottom Yard, the biggest house in the district, so they carried on like they were high-class.

As the bell rang for end of recess, all the students lined up to go back to their classrooms. Suddenly, there was a flurry as Miss Monica herself arrived, looking like a patoo gone mad. Near the back of the line stood Fanny, a half- Chinese girl who had just started school that week. Without any warning, Miss Monica grabbed poor Fanny and gave her a hard box (slap) across her face. Beverly, still sobbing, said “Mama, a nuh she dat.”

Miss Monica stormed up to our teacher and shouted “That chiney girl, Moy, pushed down my daughter and tear hawr new dress which cost me five shillings. I want you to give her a caning.”

Old Miss Perkins must have been remembering her red pocketbook at my parents’ shop in which Madam wrote down the amount of groceries she trussed (credited) every week. She called out in a wary voice:
“Moy… come here.”

“A not coming teacher.”

“Moy… a seh come here.” “A not coming teacher.”

After what seemed like an eternity of silence, Miss Monica left in a huff.

The next day I was afraid to go to school in case Miss Perkins had told the Headmaster, so I decided to skull (skip) school and inveigled sisters Sheila and Betty to follow me and Frankie down to the PG River. Catching jangas was so much fun. Every stone we lifted up uncovered several jangas. Sheila and Betty had stopped at their home for a big pudden (pudding) pan, and in no time it was full. They asked me what I was going to use to put my share in, so I emptied my school grip, lined it with some coco leaves and Sheila just dumped the pan of jangas into it.

We all shared the lunch, four small rolls I’d bought that morning – two for quattie (one and a half pence) and a tiny tin of Teapot condensed milk I took from the shop. Then we played in the river and caught some more jangas. Just thinking of the janga soup I was going to cook with dumplings made me smile. It was a blissful day and too soon, it was time to go home.

Well, as fate would have it, “Manager” was standing on the shop piazza taking cool breeze, just as school let out. The headmaster was walking by on his way to a Church meeting.
“Good afternoon, Teacher Jenkins.”
“Good afternoon, Manager. Is today a Chinese holiday? or are Frankie and Moy sick?”
“What do you mean, Teacher Jenkins ?”
“Well, they didn’t come to school today.”

As we neared the shop, we saw Papa standing there with the veins in his head ready to burst. I thought about the beating to come, but it didn’t matter. The mouth-watering janga soup was my comfort. Imagine my horror then, when Papa not only beat us, but took my precious jangas and made fritters with them. Fritters??? Yech!!!

But those were, indeed, innocent days. Every evening after homework, we played in the Gardens, picked some “cup ‘n saucers” or gathered jancro beads to make necklaces, or we would run up and down the hill in the backyard and play cricket with bats that Frankie fashioned from coconut boughs.

After dinner, we waited around in the shop until our parents closed the shop doors and everyone went upstairs together with the lamps that lit the shop. It was not until many years later that I learned why, as we were about to go upstairs, Mama would sometimes say “Wait, you nuh go yet”. Turns out, she had the uncommon ability to see duppies (ghosts). The original owner was buried in the backyard. The Methodist Church beside us had a graveyard, and facing that was the Anglican Church with its own graveyard. But as children, we were spared the knowledge that we always had unseen guests with us.

On the afternoon of Sunday, October 17, 1930, while my father’s friends from as far as Morant Bay played Mahjong downstairs and Mama was cooking, Papa was sitting on the upstairs verandah. Suddenly he collapsed. As I stood in front of the shop watching him being put into the car to go to the hospital, I knew beyond a doubt that he was already gone.

I was 12 years old, and that was the day my childhood ended.