Search
An odyssey between Lake Champlain and the Caribbean Sea
By ROBIN CAUDELL
Staff Writer
During my daughter’s freshman year at the College of Sante Fe, Nikki did a semester abroad in Belize.
It was highly unusual for the college to allow freshmen to participate in the fledging program, but they were so short of students, the program would be cancelled otherwise.
And, my daughter was desperate to depart an unusually dry New Mexico.
I always told Nikki she was a water baby. She was born on Pensacola Bay and subsequently lived along the South China Sea, Subic Bay, Chesapeake Bay, Atlantic Ocean, Lake Champlain and back to our ancestral homelands on Maryland’s Eastern Shore. She and the desert were not a good mix, but Sagitarians chart their own course. It was a battle she won at 2.
Belize and the Philippines are in a dead heat for her favorite places in the world. In a heartbeat, she would pull up stakes and live in either place if she could figure the money angle out.
While in Belize, she participated in an ethno-ecological study examining milpa farming, a slash-and burn agricultural method, and its impact on the rainforest. She also participated in oceanographic tests documenting the impact of cruise ships on reefs.
A film major, she made a documentary on traditional healers, cuanderos, and interviewed Rosario Panti, great-granddaughter of renowned H’man, Don Elijio Panti.
I had the chance to visit her and learn about the country, its people and its culture.
One day, we traveled by bus to Belize City to embark on a 40-minute boat ride to Caye Caulker. On the way, we passed Ambergris Caye, where the then couple-wrecking, reality-series hit “Temptation Island” was being filmed.
After we showered at our beach cottage, we went in search of food. On this limestone-coral island, “Happy Hour begins” before noon. I had more than a little parental concern when Nikki, 18, ordered rum-and-cokes like OJ. As we sipped our drinks, the turquoise waters of the Caribbean Sea crested at our feet.
One evening after a delicious meal at our favorite restaurant, we sat on the beach. Nikki, an instant island hoop star, was soon off, and I watched tangerine flames lick the sunset sky. A Garifuna with dreds thick as Medusa’s coils carried a battered guitar. After we introduced ourselves, he said, “Welcome home, Sister.” My face misted. It wasn’t sea spray.
Flash forward: Mayor’s Cup Regatta 2007.
Nikki drove her car, Midnight, from the Eastern Shore to Plattsburgh for the first time. As we drove to Wilcox Dock, I blasted an advance copy of “Wátina” by Andy Palacio and the Garifuna Collective.
“Mom, this reminds me of Belize,” Nikki said. “We have to go back. I wish I could go to their concert with you.”
Nikki and I celebrated the Fourth of July at the Splash Party, a Lake Champlain cruise featuring the Blind Pig Blues Band. A thumping instrumental cover of the Staple Singers’ “I’ll Take You There” had me sliding on the dance deck. Nikki shimmied in a retro, yellow dress. We jammed with Dr. David Gorman and Judy Murphy-Gorman.
Later, when fireworks sparked dusk, “Doc” rested in Judy’s embrace. My baby girl’s curls caressed my cheek. We docked. Departing, I filled the night with strains of “Wátina,” which translates as “I Called Out.”
Flash Forward. Thursday, August 2, 2007. Higher Ground Music. South Burlington, Vt.
In my mind’s eye, I glided over the Caribbean Sea back to Caye Caulker listening to Andy Palacio & the Garifuna Collective. Uncharacteristic for me, I asked Andy to sign not only my CD but also a poster, which he inscribed to Nikki. I also had Garifuna icon Paul Nabor sign his album, “Paranda.” This elder’s energetic delivery and haunting voice touched my heart. His smile, my soul.
Flash Forward. Sunday, August 12, 2007.
Dr. David Gorman, a gynecologist with practices in Malone and Plattsburgh, chief of surgery and past president of the medical staff at Alice Hyde Medical Center, and two-time winner of the Mayor’s Cup Regatta, died at the Columbia Presbyterian Hospital in New York City. Prostate cancer surgery. Heart attack. Heart attack. 71.
Flash Forward. Jan. 19, 2008.
Andy Palacio, Belizean musician, deputy administrator of the National Institute of Culture and History and Garifuna activist died. Massive and extensive stroke to the brain. Heart attack. Respiratory failure. 47.
When I learned of their deaths, I thought about the last time I saw them. The way each of those days began. How they ended. How they touched my life.
I attended Doc’s funeral at St. Peter’s Church. After his graveside service, Judy stood in a path near me. The gravestone of her first husband, Dr. Richard Murphy, was before her. Doc’s grave was behind her. Her wavy-dark tresses blew in the wind.
When Simeon Chapin of Vermont-based Cumbancha Records sent me a press-release in April about tonight’s Andy Palacio Tribute Concert at Higher Ground, something bubbled in me. This.
Simeon told me to interview Ivan Duran, founder and producer of Stonetree Records, who released Palacio’s first record. Ivan said:
“I worked for Andy for almost 15 years. I would come back to Belize every summer. I studied music in Havana, Cuba. One of those trips coming back, I met him at the bar. I offered to make an album. He really liked the idea. Up until then, he had not produced a full-length album. We started talking here. Later, I started my own label, Stonetree Records. That’s when our collaboration began. And over 10 years, the most important breakthrough happened last year with ‘Wátina,’ which I produced ... which became a real, big international success, especially in Belize.
“It transformed the music scene here. For the first time, a local production had received so many great international reviews. That seemed to affect the local perception toward our own artists. This is an album recorded in a very small village in southern Belize with local instruments, local musicians. Everything was 100-percent Belizean. The fact it made it to the charts and became #1 on the European World Music charts, it made headlines back home. In a way that single project did a lot more to preserve Garifuna music than the years of lobbying and attempts to educate people. It’s interesting how this thing just happened, something you cannot plan for just people picked it up really quickly.
“Last year was one of the biggest years in Belizean music history. That makes Andy’s death so much more difficult and painful for all of us. It was 10 years. We were starting to see the real fruits of all that work and, just, tragedy struck. The country was in shock for many days. Andy had the biggest funeral than any person ever had in this country. He is truly a national hero and more important, a popular hero. It was the first time a non-politician was honored, a simple artist. That is very significant in a place where politics rule.
“Now with Andy, his death made us feel not only the music, the entire Garifuna Collective, feel a sense of urgency. We cannot let this whole project down. What they accomplished last year, if we don’t follow it up, people will forget. We’re very much focused on continuing the works and finding younger talent. Andy was the first to admit talent is everywhere here in the Garifuna culture. It will take a little bit more time. We are ready to work and plan to continue the work that Andy started. This year, I plan a tribute album with his music and local and international artists we will bring to Belize to record this album in his memory. Then, we will work with younger musicians and singers.”
Grief laced Ivan’s voice. I could not cut his testimony to Andy and their work together.
Tonight at Higher Ground, I will attend Andy’s “Tribute Concert” presented by Cumbancha & Putumayo World Music Series.
I will dance.
Remember Doc.
Let Andy’s compatriots — the Garifuna Collective, Umalali: The Garifuna Women’s Project, Aurelio Martinez from Honduras, and Lloyd Augustine, Belize’s hottest punta-rock singer — transport me back.
“Welcome home, Sister.”
E-mail Robin Caudell at:
rcaudell@pressrepublican.com
