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:APBBEAN IVIEW JAN/FEB/MARCH Two Dollars Vol. VII No. 1 IN THIS ISSUE... What's a Rasta?; Black & White on Green Turtle Cay; Susu; Central America's Economic Family; The "M" Factor of Tourism; Caribbean Literature: Dathorne, Naipaul, Walcott ... COMMENTARY: THE MIAMI CONNECTION CARIBBEAN ECONOMIC PERSPECTIVES THE CARIBBEAN UNDERWORLD COMMENTARY ON THINGS TOURISMIC THE NEW CARIBBEAN GUIDE -- -__ -. .. -- The possible dream. s.s.Veendam to the West Indies. 10 and 11-day cruises, 5 ports. April through November. From $595. Sure you can take a vacation this year- and it just could be the best one you've ever had. For one sensible rate with no hidden costs, we'll give you the luxury and fun you thought you might have to miss. A beautiful, roomy cabin -and almost certainly an ocean view. A shipful of superb food, dazzling entertainment, and service that make you feel you're the only passenger aboard- all with no gratuities required. Plus five of the nicest islands in the whole wide blue Caribbean. Sure you can do it. See your travel agent or mail the coupon. (Rates per person, double occupancy, subject to availability. Minimum rates may not be available on all above listed sailings. The s.s. Veendam is registered in the Netherlands Antilles.) From New York's new Passenger Ship Terminal. 10-day cruises, Friday departures.To San Juan, St.Thomas, St. Bart's, St. Maarten, Bermuda. April 25, May 16, June 6: $595 to $1050. June 27, July 18, August 8: $630 to $1115. August 29, September 19, October 10, 31, November 21: $595 to $1050. 11-day cruises, Monday departures. To San Juan, St. Maarten, Martinique, St. Lucia, St.Thomas. May 5, 26, June 16: $655 to $1155. July 7,28, August 18: $695 to $1225. September 8, 29, October 20, November 10: $655 to $1155. No fuel surcharges or price increases after you book. Holland America Cruises, You may never want to get off. Two Pennsylvania Plaza, Holland N.Y, N.Y 10001. America Tel: (212) 760-3880 Cruises or toll-free at (800) 221-6657. Cru Please send me information on Veendam West Indies Cruises from New York. Name Address City State Zip My travel agent is In this issue... FEATURES: What's A Rasta? by Claudia Rogers. An introduction to the millenial Rastafarian movement of Jamaica who worship Haile Selassie and who smoke the wisdom weed ganja. Claudia Rogers teaches anthropology at the University of Miami. Page Nine. Black And White On Green Turtle Cay, by A. G. LaFlamme. An analysis of changing race relations in one of the Bahamian out-island communities. A. G. LaFlamme teaches anthropology at the State University of New York at Fredonia. Page Thirteen. Susu, by Daniel Levin. An examination of Trinidad's rotating credit system, susu. The article is based on survey research done by the author in Trinidad. Daniel Levin is studying International Development at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy. Page Nineteen. Central America's Economic Family, by Bernard Coard. An analysis of integration and dependence resulting from the Central American Common Market. Bernard Coard is a Lecturer in International Relations at the University of the West Indies in Trinidad. Page Twenty-Four. The Future of Tomorrow, by O.R. Dathorne. A silken, sad, uncertain excerpt from Grandman, a work in progress. O.R. Dathorne, the well-known Guyanese author, is in the Department of English at Florida International University. Page Twenty-Eight. Another Life, by John J. Figueroa. A review of Derek Walcott's epic poem. Jamaican John Figueroa is with the Caribbean Center for Advanced Studies in Puerto Rico. Page Thirty. Naipauliana, by John Thieme. An analysis of the work of Trinidad's V.S. Naipaul. John Thieme is in the Department of English at the University of Guayana. Page Thirty-Two. Tomorrow's Child, by Jose R. Garcia. Theology and development in the writing of Brazil's Rubem Alves. Jos6 Garcia is a theology student in Puerto Rico. Page Thirty-Six. The "M" Factor of Tourism, by Ramash Ramsaran. An analysis of the so-called multiplier effect of tourism. Ramash Ramsaran, a Trinidadian, is a research fellow in monetary studies, doing work in the Bahamas. Page Forty-One. REGULARS: The Miami Connection, by Frank Soler. Page Three. Caribbean Economic Perspectives, by Dale Truett. Page Five. The Caribbean Underworld, by M. John Thompson. Page Six. Commentary on Things Tourismic, by Herbert L. Hiller. Page Seven. Recent Books, by Neida Pagan. Page Forty-Four. The New Caribbean Guide, by Herbert L. Hiller. Page Fifty-Two. The cover photo is of a sculpture by the Jamaican sculptor, Kapo. Photo by Neil Schwartz. t UCA??BBcAN rEviEw Jan/Feb/March 1975 Two Dollars Vol. VII No. 1 Editors: Barry B. Levine Joseph D. Olander Associate Editors: For the English Speaking Caribbean: Basil Ince For the French Speaking Caribbean: Gerard Latortue For the Spanish Speaking Caribbean: Olga Jim6nez de Wagenheim For Central Am6rica: Ricardo Arias Editors-at- Large: Ken Boodhoo Celia FernBndez de Cintr6n Herbert Hiller Anthony P. Maingot Aaron Segal Managing Editor: Jose Keselman Assistant Editor: Susan Sheinman Editorial Assistant: Charles Keller General Manager: Neil Schwartz Business Manager: Joe Guzm6n Advertising Manager: Rolando A. Villanueva Executive Administrator: Denise Robicheau Art Director: Andrew R. Banks Photo Editor: Joel I. Kandel Bibliographer: Neida Pagan Translators: From the Dutch and Papiamentu: Ligia Espinal de Hoetlnk From the French and Creole: Marlene Z6phirin From the Spanish: Adela G. L6pez Caribbean Review, a quarterly journal dedicated to the Caribbean, Latin America, and their emigrant groups, is published by Caribbean Review, Inc., a corporation not for profit organized under the laws of the State of Florida. Mailing address: Caribbean Review; P.O. Box 650037; Miami, Florida 33165. Editorial Office: Caribbean Review Editorial Office; College of Arts & Sciences; Florida International University, Miami, Florida 33144. Unsolic- ited manuscripts (articles, essays, reprints, excerpts, translations, book reviews, poetry, etc.) are welcome but should be accompanied by a self-addressed stamped envelope. Copyright 1975 by Caribbean Review, Inc. All rights reserved. Subscription rates: 1 year: $8.00; 2 years: $15.00; 3 years: $12.00. 25% less in the Caribbean and Latin America. Air Mail: add $2.00 per year. Payment in Canadian currency or with checks drawn from banks outside the U.S. add 10 percent. Invoicing charge: $2.00. Subscription agencies please take 15 percent. Back Issues: Vol. 1, No. 1, Vol. III, No. 1; Vol. VI, No. 1, out of print. All other back numbers: $3.00 each. Microfilm and microfiche copies of Caribbean Review are available from University Microfilms, A Xerox Company, 300 North Zeeb Road, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. International Standard Serial number: PRISSN 0008-6525; Library of Congress Number: AP6, C27; Dewey Decimal Number: 079.7295. LETTERS Dear Sirs: I agree with reviewer Adalberto L6pez that the clothbound version of The Puerto Ricans: a Documentary history (Praeger, 1973, 332 pp.) is "too expensive" for students. Which is why I'm pleased that Doubleday will publish it in paperback (Anchor Press edition) in early or mid-1975. All writers have monstrous egos and resent negative comments about their work. In some cases, when the comments are plain wrong, this resentment is justified. For example, L6pez wrongly states that the anthology contains "more selections by North Americans than by Puerto Ricans." Then he delivers academe's equivalent of the quick knee to the groin by gratuitously suggesting that "the average North American" who studies Puerto Rico has a "feeling in the back of his mind that, after all, North Americans know best." To begin with, the book is co-edited by Olga Jim6nez de Wagenheim, a Puerto Rican who is a doctoral candidate in Latin American history. As for the ethnic sources of the selections, it's clearly stated in the introduction that "I have given preference to the writings of Puerto Ricans, who have too often been spoken for by others" and that "where I have used the writings of Americans, I have done so because hey treat a vital topic in a unique way, or illustrate the cultural bias of a foreigner (I leave to the reader the fun of deciding which does which)." Of the book's 73 major selections, ten were written by neither Puerto Ricans nor North Americans. These include important early accounts by Fray Bartolom4 de las Casas, Fray Ram6n Pan6, Juan Ponce de Le6n and Queen Isabella, and the brilliant Trinidad historian Eric Williams. Reviewer L6pez might have preferred an "indigenous" touch here, but unfor- tunately Taino chieftain Agiieybana left neither written diaries nor tape recordings. Of the remaining 63 selections, 34 were written by Puerto Ricans or were tape recorded interviews with Puerto Ricans. Virtually every major political figure during this century is quoted, some for the first time in an English language book. Among these are Ram6n E. Betances, Jos6 C. Barbosa, Eugenio Maria de Hostos, Luis Mufioz Rivera, Luis Mufioz Marin, Pedro Albizu Campos, Antonio R. Barcel6, Luis Ferr6 and Rub6n Berrios. There are also works by writers Juan Antonio Corretjer, Jaime Carrero, C6sar Andreu Iglesias, Piri Thomas, Jests Col6n and Luis Llorens Torres. And interviews with a member of the Young Lords and several Puerto Rican students. Of the 29 "North American" selections, Lopez misses the obvious point that many were included to show the prejudiced (sometimes hostile) views of the U.S. towards Puerto Rico. For example, the N.Y. Times story, in 1898, gloating that "our" flag has been raised on the island. Or statements made by Presidents Roosevelt (Teddy and FDR) and Coolidge, and members of Congress and the U.S. military. Another "North American" selection is an on-the- scene account, in the Washington Post, of the Nationalist shoot-out in Congress in 1954. (Unfor- tunately, no reporters from El Mundo or El Imparcial were in Washington at the time.) We did include a few excellent accounts of Puerto Rican life by North American writers. Novelist Dan Wakefield's story of a plane ride between San Juan and New York is a gem. So are Jack Newfield's account of political life in East Harlem and Richard M. Elman's minute-by-minute chronicle of a day in a grocery store in New York. The book's "main fault," says L6pez, is "its failure to delineate the multi-faceted impact of U.S. imperialism on Puerto Rican society." I think that Ruben Barrios and Pedro Albizu Campos speak eloquently to that point. Since L6pez is a historian (at the State University of New York) I invite him to exercise his craft and write a book himself, offering us, at last, the definitive, unbiased work on Puerto Ricans that all students deserve. Perhaps we can use an excerpt from it in our next anthology. Dear Sirs: My enjoyment of your July/August/September issue was spoiled by an inaccuracy in the article on National Dances of the Caribbean and Latin America. The article's last paragraph under Jamaica, seems to belong rightly under Haiti. Voodoo is not Jamaican and the Goddess of Love, Erzulie, is unknown in Jamaican lore. The shay-shay as we know it, is a dance step. The term is sometimes used to describe a gay lively section of the Quadrille, which has six (6) sections Figures one to six (1 - 6). For different sections, they would sometimes play a Waltz, a Mazurka, a Mento, a Polka, a Mazurka Polka, or a Vaspiana. The latter could be a corruption of a Spanish name and dance, but the Mento is indigenous to Jamaica. I offer the comments for what they are worth, as I think the magazine is a welcome addition to the Caribbean scene. Looking forward to more publications. Peace and Love. Walk good Kal Wagenheim Maplewood, N.J. Easton Lee Kingston, Jamaica. South Florida has unquestionably become the leading Latin melting pot in the United States. Nowhere else in this nation have so many Latins of so many varied ethno- logical backgrounds mingled so freely. Cubans, Colombians, Puerto Ricans, Bolivians and Hondurans. Jamaican, Chileans, Dominicans, Haitians and Argentines. They've all flocked to South Florida over the years, some legally, some illegally, all looking for a better lot than they had back home. And the influx continues, from virtually every single Caribbean and Latin American nation -day after day, month after month, in a virtually inobtrusive yet unending stream. Perhaps the best barometer of the magnitude of the Latin influx is provided by figures: barely four years ago, only 27 per cent of the area's million-plus residents was of Latin extraction, but by 1980 that percentage is expected to soar past the 40 per cent mark. Such menage has been highly satisfactory for the international- istic image the area's elders seek to bestow upon South Florida (they like to call Miami the U.S. Gateway of the Americas, a boast not without merit). But it also has raised a number of concerned eyebrows among the cogniscenti of the drastic socio- logical impact of close inter-rela- tions between highly disparate national groups. For notwithstanding the com- monality of language that most Caribbean and Latin American peoples in this area share, Miami's Latin community is indeed com- posed of highly-disparate group- ings. Cubans, for example, are vastly different from Puerto Ricans. In both the experiences of the past and the hopes and dreams for the future. And Puerto Ricans are vastly different from Colombians. And Colombians are vastly different from Argentines. And Argentines are vastly different from everyone else. And so on down the line. Each Latin nation is, in effect, a world unto itself. The crucial question, given this set of circumstances, then be- comes how well the various minorities that compose each of these worlds will relate to one another as their numbers sky- rocket and their personal brushes increase. The evidence, thus far, hints that they will get along well, because there has been little, if any, serious hostility between the different nationalities in the past. But there are those who are beginning to hoist warning signs, who believe the seemingly pastoral Latin scene in South Florida could change soon. And for the worse. C.R. Jan/Feb/March ---Page 3 SOne such is Emilio L6pez, a 39-year old Puerto Rican who directs the Borinquen Health Care Center in the Northwest Miami district of Winwood. -L6pez, a psychology graduate from the University of Miami who -is considered a sort of spokesman Sfor the area's Puerto Rican com- munity, says morning conflict between the various Latin groups is already evident. And he blames most poign- antly local politicians and pressure groups who think only : Cu-ban-exile when referring to the S needs of South Florida's Latin community. "Whenever any program is being set up to help Miami's Latin community, the program is set up under- the misconception that the Latin community is composed ---solely of -Cubans," complains :- --; -L pez_ -- - Lbpez-. "Well, the people may not realize this, but in addition to Cubans, there are between 45,000 and 65,000 Puerto Ricans living in the area, -as -well as more than 30,000 Colombians and thousands more from other Latin nations," -hesays. L- L6pez claims that in the rush to resolve the problems of the Cuban S exiles -- which he acknowledges are pressing community leaders ignore the problems of other Latin --Americans. 2 H -.-He_ claims, for example, that wh- en a new item- relating to P-: ert:o Rico's communi y is d--- delivered to Anglo news media, t_:the-. media indicates the item Should go to the Latin news Smedia.--But, he claims, the Latin news outlets are full to the. brim i- with news for and. about -Cubans and- have little time or space for nythiig else.- :_ He: also claims that when his children and the children of other Latins go to school to take adi-ant --age of the bilingual system :- ere they are taught the history of - Pagi C.RP;.- V -. VII No.; Cuba, instead of the overall history of Latin America. "There are many things like this ... it also happens to us in looking for jobs and houses," claims L6pez, who holds a Masters in Guidance and Counseling from Florida Atlantic University in Boca Raton. L6pez warns that unless the situation is resolved, resentment within the Latin community will continue to grow until that time when an irreparable split will occur. Echoing L6pez' complaints is a Colombian who works in a mechanical department for a Miami Spanish-language news- paper and who agreed to be identified only as Jos&. "I used to like Cubans very much when I was in Colombia. I had a number of very good Cuban friends. Those were my friends and they still are my friends," says Jose. "But now, in Miami. I find that I have to work and to compete with them. It is not the same. I cannot make friends with Cubans at work because, I think, they are arrogant -toward me. They don't say it with words, but their looks seem to imply, 'Hey, little fellow, I was here first.' "I know most of the Cubans here are not like that. But my feelings are controlled by the Cubans with whom I come in daily contact. And that's in my work. And I can't help being angry at the ones I work with, because of the way they look at me and because I am unable to get the same American benefits that some of them get." Perhaps illustrating best the undercurrent of discomfort coursing through- segments of the Latin community was an incident witnessed the other day outside a small coffee shop -on busy South- west 8th Street, in -the heart of Miami's famed -Little Havana area. A young Argentine was com- plaining to an older Cuban .about how Cuban exiles had managed to control many of the areas where Latins from other nations might find suitable jobs. "You Cubans have everything 'tied up,' the Argentine said. "I come here and I try to make money to bring my family and I can't get a job. I don't speak English. So I have to try in the Spanish-speaking places. But the Spanish-speaking places I've been to tell me they prefer other Cubans as employees. "Is that fair? Of course, it isn't. But that's the way it is." The Cuban, a cigar clenched tightly in his right hand, listened with rapidly exhausting patience for a couple of minutes, then, loudly, told the Argentine that he would help him find a job. ".... just to prove to you that if you really want to find a job, you will find a job," said the Cuban. "Everybody can find jobs here. The only thing you have to be is hungry enough. The only thing you have to be is not lazy. "We Cubans weren't lazy. We Cubans were hungry. We had lost our homeland. We had lost every- thing. We came here as political exiles and found ourselves hungry. Well, we wanted to get ahead. So we tried. And we worked. Fifteen or twenty hours, whatever it took. "We paid our way ... so don't complain about us Cubans doing so well here while you're not. We're doing so well here because we earned it. "Now it's your turn," said the Cuban and strode off, angrily throwing his cigar but to the ground. The Argentine youth glazed after him for a few seconds, the muttered under his breath and walked the other way. The incident was insignificant, to be sure. But it appropriately serves to underscore the resent- ment that may be brewing among some Latins who believe they are not getting a fair and equal share of the South Florida .that has become their new home. * Today, inflation seems to be everybody's major economic con- cern. However, it was not very long ago that a favorite pastime of economists in the industrialized countries was giving advice to the poor, underdeveloped countries who could not manage their own economic houses well enough to avoid either inflation or persistent unemployment. In the early 1960's, a good deal of attention was paid to problems of inflation and growth in the Latin American countries, and academic discussion reached its peak at the Rio de Janeiro conference of 1963 where the world's experts on Latin American development convened to set the record straight. (For the conference proceedings, see Wer- ner Baer and Isaac Kerstenetzky, eds., Inflation and Growth in Latin America, Homewood, Il- linois: Richard D. Irwin, Inc., 1964.) Actually, Rio simply served as one of several sounding boards for the notorious mone- tarist-structuralist debate on the causes of and remedies for infla- tion in developing economies, a debate which had raged since the fifties. I doubt that any mone- tarists left the conference as structuralists or that the struc- turalists were basically swayed by the monetarists' arguments. The foundation of the moneta- rist view on inflation is the quantity theory of money, which has not changed fundamentally since monks at the School of Salamarca used it to explain the Spanish inflation of the sixteenth century. The quantity theory simply argues that when money becomes abundant relative to other things, money will be cheap and other things high-priced. Thus the flow of gold into Spain made gold cheap and goods expensive, and similarly, an increase in paper money, demand deposits, and near monies can also be inflationary. In Spain, the sovereign could have stifled inflation by keeping gold out of the hands of the people; modern day governments can do the same by refusing to expand the money supply. Not surprising- ly, economists of the monetarist bent have frequently chided the governments and central bankers of developing nations for their lack of restraint and mismanage- ment of the money supply. Structuralists, on the other hand, argued that price increases were in the first instance tripped off by bottlenecks or deficiencies in the supply of goods whether of domestic or external origin. These bottlenecks were envisioned to cause an initial round of price inflation which somehow turned into an inflationary spiral. The nexus between such initial price rises and chronic inflation was not well established in many of the structuralists' position papers. As always, there are lessons to be learned from the past, and particularly from past debates. It seems that structural inflation to- day is alive, well, and thriving in the industrialized countries. The United States itself is beset with the twin problems of inflation and unemployment that were so much the concern of the developing nations ten or fifteen years ago. The monetarists and the structu- ralists are still with us. and the early days of the inflationary recession proved to be a delight CARIBBEAN ECONOMIC PERSPECTIVES By Dale Truett for the former. The managers of U.S. monetary policy, like Latin American central bankers, took the brunt of the monetarists' criticism. While the monetarists kept their eyes on the money supply, truly critical supply bot- tlenecks developed in world com- modity markets. The prices of many key inputs for industrial processes soared, and a round of increases in intermediate goods and final products was kicked off. The supply disruptions, many of which are traceable to the oil crisis, led to worsening of un- employment as prices rose. On the monetary side, credit became tighter and interest rates higher. The new year finds the United States finally admitting it has deep economic problems. With the highest unemployment rates since pre-World War II days, the govern- ment has had to let economic recovery and expansion take a front seat ahead of inflation fighting. The structural nature of the problem is clear; there is no unilateral monetary policy remedy for the price increases caused by OPEC. Further, the United States is placed in exactly the position earlier occupied by many of its Latin American neighbors. That is. it can use monetary contraction to achieve price stability only if it is willing to stifle economic growth and worsen unemployment. In fact., it is quite likely that inflation will be necessary to the near term growth process of the American economy just as it was argued to have been necessary for growth in many Latin American countries. After all, the rise in the price of energy and the prices of energy- related goods will cause a diver- sion of expenditure from other sectors of the economy. There will be recessions in these sectors as long as new money is not pumped into the expenditure stream. The necessary injection into this flow will have to come as a result of expansionary federal policy, both monetary and fiscal. So, the U.S. finds itself now creating federally supported jobs and loosening up monetary policy. C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page.5 In any event, Uncle Sam is certainly too busy with his own problems to pay much attention to those of Latin America and the Caribbean at present. Undoubted- ly he is too busy to wonder what his neighbors to the south might think about "Big Brother's" pre- dicament or whether there are some among them ready to whisper ... "I told you so." * STHE CARIBBEAN UNDERWORLD By M. John Thompson Natural resources should not be viewed solely in terms of possible oil or mineral production, but should include concepts of unique biological habitats. Bio-organic or living natural resources are non- depletable, given proper safe guards, and can be used repeatedly to generate capital for the nation concerned. The nearshore marine habitats of the Caribbean Sea and its adjacent tropical waters have a biological richness which is matched by few areas of the world. How does a nation, company, or individual set about utilizing a newly discovered natural re- source? Logic would dictate that the first requirement should be an in-depth survey to determine the extent of the resource in question and its projected value. This is indeed the procedure followed by any major oil or mineral company before opening up a new field. Unfortunately, most people place resources of biological uniqueness or natural beauty in a different category than resources of mineral wealth. This mental segregation is all right as long as we consider beauty a free and inexhaustable gift of nature, which can be enjoyed without charge, and destroyed by any individual for their own convenience. Thinking of this type, that beauty is free and expendible, has already lead to a tremendous depletion in the world's supply of natural beauty. Page 6 C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 This depletion is already being felt in the overindustrialized nations of Europe and North America and will grow more acute as we approach the year 2000. As any commodity becomes scarcer on the market, its value begins to increase. It is past time that citizens and governments realized that beautiful areas within and around their nation represent a true natural resource and should no longer be considered a free gift of God, to be used and abused by each man as he pleases. These resources belong to the citizens of a nation, and that nation's govern- ment owes its citizens the protec- tion and exploitation of such resources. Beauty is no longer free in this world. At the present moment its value is admittedly somewhat less than that of oil; but while new power sources can be found, there is no substitute for such commodities as living coral reefs. The extent to which marine habitats have been neglected as a natural resource can best be gauged by looking at some exam- ples from around the -tropical Americas. Florida, rich state of a rich nation, has the only living coral reefs found in the continen- tal United States. For years, these reefs have supported large com- mercial and sports fisheries, which annually dumped thousands of dollars into the economy of South Florida. With the increase in I sports diving, beginning in 1960, Florida's reefs, because of their continental location and ease of access, became a mecca for divers from all over North America. These divers, in turn, generated more tourism and contributed substantially to the multi-million dollar land development boom seen in the Florida Keys between 1968-74. Florida first became aware of the value of its coral reef resources in 1971 when alarming stories began to appear in the press that these reefs were dying. Scientific studies proved these reports to be somewhat exaggerated, but the incident did call to the attention of some Government officials the economic value of Florida's coral reefs. Nevertheless, it was not until October of 1974 that the State of Florida set up an initial program to inventory or deter- mine the extent of its coral reef resources. The Bahamas, an Island nation quickly and cheaply accessible from North America, and with a well-based history of U.S. and European tourism, have only begun to promote underwater recreation within the last three years. The skin and scuba diving brochure they distribute is a general information pamphlet along the lines of similar pro- motional material which has been developed for golf, yachting, fish- ing and flying. It does, however, contain a list of many of the best diving spots on several of the major islands. This type of in- formation is an initial step toward a specific type of marine resources inventory. As an island nation, the Bahamas has taken some ex- tremely valuable steps toward protecting their natural under-sea resources, even without passing a comprehensive inventory of those resources. They have made spear- fishing illegal throughout their country; and, correlary to this, they have begun to encourage underwater photo-hobbiests in- stead of spearfishermen. Such events as their "November Under- water Photo Treasure Hunt," sponsored by the Bahamian Ministry of Tourism, provide both exposure of their marine habitat and preserves the inhabitants of this underwater world for others to enjoy. The Bahamian govern- ment has also instituted stringent antipollution laws and has enacted penalties for oil spills which may occur at sea. This type of legislation is a must if a nation wishes to preserve its biological marine resources. At the present time, I know of no plans by the Bahamian, or any other island government, to con- duct a truly comprehensive marine resources inventory. A com- prehensive inventory would in- clude both scientific and com- mercial analysis of a nation's marine resources to determine the extent and economic value of those resources. Projected in- creases in utilization, as deter- mined by specialists in underwater recreation, through the year 2000 should be included, along with estimated carrying capacity of the submerged environment as deter- mined by marine scientists. "That is all very nice," many will say. "and if we had as many millions in available capital as the North Americans, we would do such a study right away. Unfor- tunately, as administrators of Caribbean nations we are con- cerned with the needs of our people today; we do not have the time or the money to invest in developing a resource of uncertain value, which may not pay off for twenty years or more." This is indeed a valid argument, but a study or studies such as I am suggesting can be accomplished without the expenditures of vast sums of money, nor need the whole project be undertaken at one time. All that is really required is a strong administrator who is capable of seeing the long-range value of such a project and who has the determination to keep it moving toward his goal as time and money allow. Within the last five to eight years, great strides have been made in the field of remote sensing. New films have been developed which penetrate water to depths of 100 feet or more. The utilization of such film, in conjunction with modern aerial photographic techniques, allows large areas of nearshore sea bot- tom to be mapped quickly and cheaply. From such a photo- graphic map, the extent and makeup of various nearshore com- munities can be determined visual- ly. An evaluator can see exactly how much of a given underwater area is covered by living coral reef, productive grass flats, or barren rubble. To be accurately eval- uated, the investigator much make spot checks of his photomap by actually visiting various under- water sites. The expense of such an aerial photographic inventory, with occasional spot checks to insure accuracy, is miniscule when compared to the conventional method of surveying marine com- munities by scuba. Using aerial photography to produce a detailed map of a nation's nearshore hydro-environ- ment is the first step toward a truly scientific-commercial in- ventory of that nation's marine resources. The second step is evaluating the resource eco- nomically and determining a rational plan for its exploitation and protection. Aerial surveys are extremely useful in detecting areas or point sources of marine pollu- tion; but unless the legal machinery exists to correct these problems, this knowledge is of little other than academic value. Similarly, once a scientific- commercial inventory of a nation's marine resources is com- pleted, it is of little value without a political-economic plan to develop these resources. Designing such a plan for the development of a nation's hydro-environment requires consideration of many social as well as economic factors. Each nation must decide for itself how it wishes to see its own natural resources utilized. * COMMENTARY ON THINGS TOURISMIC By Herbert L. Hiller The movie industry has been filling the airwaves recently with dispatches and analyses of an anticipated huge upsurge in movie attendance, based on the theory that when the public is depressed people like to get away from reality through movie make- believe. I'd be willing to bet that such statements have convinced a lot of people to go to the movies more often. Isn't travel really in a similar league actually a much stronger league? (From an edi- torial, "l'hat's Ahead for '75? " by Joel M. Abels, Travel Trade, Dec. 30, 1974.) The high cost of fantasizing in the tropics is getting out of hand. So far it has been the cost to the tourists. Now it becomes cost to the governments dependent on tourists showing up. Upping the ante is not just the cost of fuel and inflation. New is the cost to bail out the hotels, built in the self-confidence of industrial soci- ety from where their promoters come that endless growth would produce an endless stream of escapists ready to pay the price. At that, the bail-out cost proposed so far is only financial. Continued on page 48 C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 7 '#^ off..0 go l,. r , ,~* qY SCr HOTEL TARmRAfCO IN CARACAS OTHER INTER-CONTINENTAL HOTELS IN VENEZUELA: HOTEL INTERCONTINENTAL CUAD GUAYANA ENEZUELA CIUDAD GUAYANA, VENEZUELA HO EL VN MARACAIBO. VENEZUELA HOTEL INTERCONTINENTAL VALENCIA VALENCIA. VENEZUELA WHAT'S A RASTA By Claudia Rogers "Look to Africa where a Black King shall be crowned and He shall lead you out of bondage." This is the reputed message of Marcus Garvey some forty years ago to the' lower-class of Jamaica. Since that time a complete ideological movement, that of the Rasta- farians, has developed within the island's boundaries. The Rastafarian Movement of Jamaica is millenial in the sense that brethren constantly refer to a hoped-for period of peace, joy and justice. Typical of other groupings, historical as well as contemporary, which stress the dream of the millennium, Rastafarians stress positive change by tenets such as: 1) awareness of black people of their African heritage; 2) recognition of Haile Selassie as the Black Reincar- nated Christ; 3) repatriation to Ethiopia qua Africa, the true home of blacks everywhere; 4) the apocalyptic fall of Jamaica as Babylon, the corrupt world of the white man... In addition, politicized Rastas claim that once the white man's world crumbles, the current master/slave pattern will be reversed. For these individuals, the millenial dream includes black subjugation of the white race. Throughout the history of the Movement, Rasta brethren have been in and out of the public spotlight, labelled 'religious fanatics,' 'nuisances,' 'an embarrass- ment to the Jamaican people,' or 'treacherous criminals' who should be jailed or hung for their traitorous acts against Jamaican society. By sporting the 'dreadlocks,' smoking ganja (marijuana), and using the often violent language of the Old Testament, many Rastafarians have alarmed Jamai- cans and attracted the attention of anthropologists. It is worthwhile examining Rasta behavior in terms of how they operationalize the concept of African heritage. By viewing their behavior through the filter of ethnicity, we can determine why and how awareness of black people of their African cultural roots is activated in the "social arena" which Rasta brethren occupy. The boundaries of this "social arena" are determined largely by the low socio- economic status and limited political and economic influence which traditionally are ascribed to the brethren as members of the "black masses." Using the concept of ethnicity, or more basically, of what the Greeks term "ethnos," we can establish the groundwork for a better understanding of the Rastafarians and their status in the Jamaican social system. "Ethnos" is 'a band of people living together, a nation or people;' the stem of the word connotes that the social group of the people with whom one lives, works and interacts daily is a discrete entity. "Ethnic" signifies 'of or pertaining to a social group within a cultural and social system that claims and/or is accorded special status on the basis of complex, often variable traits including religious, linguistic, ancestral, or physical characteristics.' These defini- tions and their implications reflect the view of some anthropologists that the major criterion by which a group is classified as 'ethnic' is self-identification according to behavior and attitudes established and maintained by the individuals adhering to such C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 9 ascription. Within the framework of a developing ethnos, Rastafarians are responding actively to the categoriza- tion imposed upon them within the structure of Jamaican society. A conversation which I had with four Rasta brothers living in the slums of West Kingston illustrates this response. "There are three kinds, or classes, of citizens. The first class is the wealthy, those who are 'world citizens' since they can go where they choose and become citizens of any country they choose. These first-class citizens are the free men. The second class citizens are the civil servants who wear white shirts and black ties and try to buy as many things as they can get. Last and least comes those who are termed 'inferior,' the suffering Photography by Roy O'Brien, Jamaica Tourist Board. mass, the black man. Why the black man is termed 'inferior' we cannot say but he is the one who has nothing and has no chance of getting anything." When I suggested that the situation seemed hopeless, the brothers replied: "Possibly for some there is no hope, but we have hope that there is a better life in Ethiopia and until we are repatriated we will suffer as we have suffered since coming to Babylon. Meanwhile, we must work at recapturing and rebuilding our African heritage, our culture. For a man without a culture is a weak man, he knows not what he does or what he says. But when a man has a culture, he becomes strong and does the right things. All black men are Rastas but some have not come to Page 10 C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 the full understanding' and therefore are the weak ones. They may laugh at the Rasta Man because they are weak and know not what they say." Rastas view their efforts to realize the heritage which was stolen from them when they were uprooted from their native African soil as the initial step in bringing about the millennium. Such efforts encompass the religious ideology of the Movement, the adoption of the Amharic language, and a life style and appearance which distinguish them from the rest of the populace. The more visible attempts correlate with the religious credo, and center on eating and drinking habits. Specifically, the true Rasta believer eats neither pork nor shellfish, claiming that hogs are unclean, scavengers of the earth. Shellfish such as crab, lobster and shrimp are the scavengers of the sea. Hence, their meat is not pure. Rastas also prefer smaller fish rather than the larger kingfish or barracuda because the latter are predatory and cannibalistic. Brethren often draw the analogy between the kingfish and white slave traders and the European-dominated Jamaican society. If a Rasta eats the flesh of such a predator, s/he is giving tacit approval to oppressive behavior. Rastas espouse, the virtue of "I-tal" foods, i.e., organically grown, 'from the earth' foodstuffs rather than chemically treated, processed foods in cans and artificial wrappings. Brethren tend to avoid drinking hard liquor such as red rum (e.g. Appleton) or white overproof rum (e.g. Wray and Nephew 150+ proof), asserting that alcohol taken in the quantities of "social drinking" is harmful to the body and mind because it eats away at both. Many Rastas further claim that rum, whiskey, etc., are but more of the tools which the white Babylonian society uses to oppress the black person. Some members of the Movement become vegetarians, refusing to drink even soup made with beef or chicken stock. Rastas also apply the rationale for food and drink restrictions and the preference for "I-tal" foods into the economic sphere. In explaining "I-tal" employ- ment, they claim that it is not natural for one man to work for another, to be the underling, in effect, the slave of another. Hence, the brethren emphasize Language is obviously an important part of that heritage. As approximately 90% of the brethren with whom I worked are literate, it is not unusual to walk into a yard and find several of the brethren studying a book or a magazine article regarding Ethiopia. For those who have "the true spirit of 'Jah Rastafari'," such books and magazines are the only source of knowledge of the land of salvation. Accordingly, any printed matter on Ethiopia, Haile Selassie I, the Amharic language, is very valuable and thereby passed from one person to the next so that the individual can teach himself about his African home. We find further evidence of ethnic identification through several terms which Rastas have coined in the Jamaican dialect, including: "I-tal:" springing from S.f ' c economic independence in their work ethic in so far as they are given a choice in the matter. In both urban and rural areas, they are artisans or skilled tradesmen such as mechanics, tailors, plumbers, house painters, carpenters, fishermen, ganja retailers, so that they answer to no one but themselves. Where possible in rural sections of the island, they farm small plots of land, often combining cash crop produce with ganja cultivation. In adopting the Amharic language of Ethiopia, Rastas claim that it is "the only true tongoe spoken by man." They term themselves "self-taught experts" because they have no opportunity to learn of their espoused heritage in the Jamaican school system. the earth, earthy, natural; "I an I:" referring to the individual speaker and implying close communion with God qua Haile Selassie; "grounation:" verbal exchange between Rasta brethren for the purpose of learning what each has to offer to the others, may include sympathetic non-Rastas and the smoking of ganja; "jullification:" a situation where the partici- pating brethren are relaxed, in understanding with one another and communion with Haile Selassie, the result usually of a ganja-smoking session; "dreadlocks /dreadknots:" analogy between the uncut, plaited hair of the locksman or woman and the appearance of the ganja plant when fully ripe. The word 'dread' is a parody of the non-Rasta reaction of fear at the sight C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 11 of a locksman and of disgust at the thought of the effect of ganja when smoked; "herb, wisdom weed:" ganja (marijuana), so called because of the Biblical reference to the herb growing on King Solomon's grave. In appearance, Rastas set themselves apart most noticeably with the "crown of glory" i.e., the locks. Brethren claim that the practice of letting the hair grow and plaiting it to form the locks dates back to the Old Testament and the Book of Isaiah: 'when the Lord declared to his children that whosoever shall follow me shall never take scissors to his hair nor razor to his face.' Historically, this practice was most visible among Ethiopian warriors. For those not wishing to advertise as strongly their affiliation with the Movement, any facial growth will do or even letting the hair grow longer than the normally close-cropped cut of the middle class. Women who are attached to Rasta men or who themselves follow the Rastafarian dogma do not use the Hot Comb to straighten their hair. Rastas further publicize their identity by wearing the Heavenly Colors, the colors of Ethiopia, gold, green and red which they interpret to mean: gold for the riches of their native Ethiopian soil; green for peace and forgiveness; and red for the awful judgment upon the wicked rulers of white Babylon and for the salvation of black peoples of the world. Rastas' attempts to create a separate life style are related to the above discussion of differences in eating and speaking habits and in physical appear- ance. Concomitant with these efforts is the use of ganja, often an integral part of the daily pattern of living for Rastafarians. Brethren, especially locksmen, tend to use ganja perhaps more extensively than any other identifiable grouping of people in Jamaica. They brew it for tea in the morning, soak it in white, overproof rum as a medicinal tonic and, most significantly for the wider society, smoke it. Rastas who do smoke ganja refer to it as 'the wisdom weed' or 'the holy herb' and regard smoking as the best way in which to gain both inner and wordly knowledge. They emphasize ganja as the true source of education, given the lack of opportunities for learning open to them because of their low social status. Finally, Rastas who are ganja-smokers claim that "the herb" is the best way to relax and be in communion with God (qua Haile Selassie I). Within the confines of the ideological doctrine of the Movement, Rastas consider the ethnically- oriented behavior described as the basic preparation of the black man and woman for repatriation with Ethiopia. Brethren believe that the black person who is not aware of and is not trying to recreate their African culture cannot help themselves toward salvation. Thus, in the ideology of the Movement, such an individual is a negative force in the constant struggle of the black masses to achieve their heaven on earth. Conversely, once all black people do reach the full understanding of their true heritage and Page 12-C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 culture and begin to operationalize that understand- ing, "better mus' come," as the once-popular Reggae song stated. The final Armageddon will be fought; Babylon will fall; former slaves will be free in the kingdom of Haile Selassie I. Sociologically, the development of ethnos and the maintenance of markedly different behavioral traits are of a more immediate significance. They constantly re-affirm to Rastas their own African-ness, their separateness, vis-a-vis the wider society. Such patterns of behavior and attitude also become the primary means of declaring the Rasta belief in African identity to the Jamaican society, of confronting that society with an ever-present reminder that Rastas reject the categorization of "black masses" and are attempting to create yet another category for themselves. By donning "a mask of confrontation" and establishing and maintaining the overt boundaries of appearance, linguistic usage, religion, life style, and the subtle boundaries of attitudes, Rastas are attempting to reverse the syndrome of 'the black man has nothing and has no chance of getting anything.' In effect, brethren are saying: 'you may continue to deal with us but on our terms and not those handed down from plantation society.' Whether this mask and the concomitant boundaries bring viable results, in terms either of the millenial dogma or of a re-structuring of Jamaican society, remains an unanswered question. * $12.95 Trre Philip M. Allen &Aaron Segal The first comprehensive guide to all the countries of Africa and its major islands, this 972-page clothbound book provides every kind of information a traveler needs to make his trip more comfortable, economical and rewarding. Dr. Allen and Dr. Segal, both formerly associated with the African-American Institute, are Africa scholars who have lived and worked throughout the continent. They comment on more than 10,000 hotels, restaurants, shops and places of interest (researched with the assistance of 153 trusted correspondents), and provide more information on transportation, entry requirements, currency, weather and costs than has ever appeared in print before - along with historical backgrounds and penetrating assessments of current conditions. The book also contains maps and photographs, a glossary of African terms, and other features helpful to travelers. HOPKINSON AND BLAKE 329 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK, N.Y. 10016 BLACK & WHITE ON GREEN TURTLE CAY By A.G. La Flamme Green Turtle Cay is the Northernmost of the settled islands along the Eastern coast of Great Abaco Island in the Northern Bahama Islands. The cay is roughly three miles in length and one half mile in width at its widest point. New Plymouth, Green Turtle Cay's only settlement, occupies a peninsula on the Southwestern corner of the cay. The remainder of Green Turtle Cay's surface consists of forest, citrus and coconut groves, a few tourist facilities, and the homes of a small number of resident aliens from the United States. The New Plymouth settlement is atypical, although not unique, among out-island Bahamian communities. Its population consists of significant numbers of both whites and blacks. Most out-island communities are totally or predominately black. Most of the remainder are totally or predominately white. The vast majority of Green Turtle Cay's white population descend from the Loyalist settlers who fled the American Colonies during the 1780's. The majority of the cay's black population is descended from the slave population that was brought to the area by the white planters. At the time of my census in 1968, there were 194 whites and 148 blacks within the community. THE OLD ORDER Due to such factors as the thin, sandy soil and the small size of most land holdings, the cotton plantation system of America was never a profitable undertaking on most Bahamian islands. Despite British cash and supplies, the early settlers had an extremely, difficult time attempting to adapt to their new environmental and economic circumstances. The Loyalist settlers pleaded for increased trade from Britain and the established colony on Bermuda but their early economic activities were so unsuccessful that a lottery for their benefit was proposed in Britain. During the early years of the nineteenth century, many former Loyalists left the Bahamas and reentered the United States. As a consequence of the failure of the plantation system, slave holding quickly became an economic liability. Therefore, many Bahamian slaves underwent manumission well before the 1834 deadline that was imposed throughout the British Empire. As was the case in most of the New World, the bulk of the freed slaves remained as the major component of their society's lowest socio- economic stratum. After the collapse of the ill-fated plantation system, many out-island communities settled into a subsistence-level existence centered upon horticulture and fishing. To the extent that out-island business existed at all, it was dominated by whites. Relatively wealthy whites owned and operated all of Green Turtle Cay's seaworthy ships. This control over transportation helped to insure the continuation of local white economic dominance. Fishing and farming for sale beyond the highly restricted local market were effectively limited to "approved" individuals. Beyond fishing and fruit and vegetable farming, Green Turtle Cay's other major economic ventures have included blockade running during the American Civil War, sisal production, lumber production, and tourism. All of these activities have utilized black and white labor with white management. Through the years, Green Turtle Cay's economic system has been intimately associated with racial inequality and a large measure of racial segregation. Minimum property requirements for juror eligibility and voter eligibility once served to keep the white Bahamian minority firmly in control of the black Bahamian majority. Despite the passing of these political mechanisms, traditional patterns of race relations on Green Turtle Cay have featured deferential behavior of blacks toward whites. Deference was manifested in a number of ways such as having blacks use the rear entrance of a white home or use the respectful "Mister" and "Mizz" before a surname or a given name as terms of address. Joking relationships, verbal conflicts, and physical confrontations across racial lines were extremely rare. At the same time, there was a great deal of paternalistic behavior of whites toward cooperative blacks. Properly deferential blacks were rewarded with occasional job opportunities and second hand goods. Their less deferential counterparts were punished by the absence of this sort of paternalistic largess. Further economic sanctions existed as well. For example, the actual or threatened withdrawal of credit by white shopkeepers was often sufficient to insure "proper" behavior. These behavior patterns were hardly a local secret. Several individuals with whom I spoke in Nassau were well-versed in the basic details of race relations on Green Turtle Cay specifically and the Abaco region generally. C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 13 Miscegenation in the Caribbean culture-area has been quite common. Miscegenation on Green Turtle Cay, however, has been exceedingly rare. In addition, the physical dichotomy within the settlement is paralleled by a socio-cultural dualism. This, of course, predates the foundation of the New Plymouth settlement. However, life on Green Turtle Cay has tended to maintain this original dualism. Both of the community's racially defined populations possess their own sub-cultural and dialectal variants of Bahamian Culture and the English Language. Segregation within a tiny settlement on a small, isolated island is not always easy. Nonetheless, it has, to a large extent, been accomplished. Church congregations, perhaps the most important social groups within the community, have long been largely segregated racially. Simple methods such as ignoring or insulting black visitors have usually sufficed. When blacks have joined congregations despite this, however, most whites have formed splinter congrega- tions or changed denominational affiliation alto- gether. Schools are racially integrated but the majority of children's play groups before and after school tend to be segregated. In the past, some adult work groups were racially segregated because a few white men had refused to work closely with their black counterparts. Voluntary associations among adult community members have always been racially segregated. Finally, the settlement pattern of New Plymouth is clearly along racial lines. This phenome- non is partially due to the familial inheritance of houses and building lots. It is also due to the mutual desire to remain among one's own people. Operating upon the assumption that some blacks actually desire to buy or rent a home in New Plymouth's white section, there is an agreement among whites to keep this from happening. Such a dwelling would be removed from the market, quickly rented or sold to white residents, or simply denied a potential black customer. FACTORS PROMOTING CHANGE The old, traditional social and cultural orders on Green Turtle Cay are now changing. This is not to imply that conditions were once perfectly static. Rather, the scope and speed of change have increased dramatically since the middle 1960's. After nearly two centuries of clear-cut social inequality within the community, New Plymouth is beginning to move in the direction of racial equality. Traditional patterns of segregation have changed much less; therefore, the community is moving in the direction of a "separate but equal" existence. Recent changes have been manifested in the three major domains of culture: material conditions, social relations, and ideology. The various factors that have promoted these changes have ranged from the local milieu through the Bahamian national situation to the realm of international affairs. Page 14 C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 The Bahama Islands have experienced a long, alternating series of economic successes and failures. Most of these major trends have been closely paralleled on Green Turtle Cay. Within the New Plymouth settlement, each "boom" has witnessed the rise to prominence of one or more entrepreneurs. The status and role of the entrepreneur has thusfar been restricted to Green Turtle Cay's white sub-culture. The success, duration, and ultimate socio-cultural significance of each entrepreneur has varied con- siderably. We can distinguish two types of entrepreneurs. First, there are free-enterprisers who tend to be minimally bound to the local social structure and value system. Second, there are free-holders who are -- . jj AP -i _ 4Ad~ more apt to be community insiders with a greater concern for local values, social relationships, and responsibilities. Sometimes, the two types of entrepreneurs seem to develop a symbiotic relation- ship. The free-enterpriser legitimizes his position and gains local knowledge through his association with the free-holder. The free-holder gains outside knowledge and social contacts through his association with the free-enterpriser. This sort of a relationship has existed several times during the history of the New Plymouth settlement. A recent and highly significant economic venture on Green Turtle Cay has involved the actions of both types of entrepreneurs. Although not an intended consequence by either, their joint activities helped to radically and irrevocably alter the community's pattern of race relations. The economic venture in question is that of tourism. Tourism here denotes both the coming of short-term visitors in the usual sense of the term and the coming of long-term visitors who buy homes in the area. The latter practice does not constitute immigration to the community because these resident aliens remain both physically and socio-culturally isolated from the community's residents most of the time. Resident aliens consider themselves to be outsiders and New Plymouth's residents concur with this opinion. In recent years, out-island tourism has been aggressively promoted by the Bahamian government. Advertisements throughout the United States and Photo by Frederic Maura, Bahamas Ministry of Tourism. Canada extol the virtues of Bahamian climate, beaches, and leisure-time activities. More specifically, tourism in the Green Turtle Cay area has been promoted by both the government and the free-holder and free-enterpriser partnership operating out of the New Plymouth settlement. The tourism related activities of this partnership have included Crown Land acquisition and development, house construction, and the development of various tourist facilities within commuting range of the settlement. These related ventures have had a many faceted impact upon the area and its residents. Local economic development through tourism has meant that wage labor opportunities have increased dramatically. The construction of hotels, houses, marinas, and the like have provided for large scale employment in the building trades. Occupational specialists such as carpenters, masons, painters, and general laborers have been in almost constant demand since the full-scale promotion of local tourism began in the mid-1960's. Beyond the realm of the construction business, tourism has created a set of wholly new occupational specializations that have put old skills to new uses. Tourist facilities need caretakers, cooks, gardeners, waiters, and waitresses. Further, some resident aliens employ local residents in similar capacities on a part-time or a full-time basis. Several of New Plymouth's fishermen have become fishing guides at upwards of $100 per day. New occupational specializations will regularly arise as local tourism expands. A growth in black ethnic consciousness in the Bahamas, as in so many other places, occurred during the decade of the 1960's. On Green Turtle Cay, one of the major vehicles for this expansion was the advent of television within the community. As of 1968, about 18% of black households and about 42% of white households on Green Turtle Cay possessed television sets. Individuals without television sets of their own are normally able to view one belonging to a friend or a relative on a regular basis. News programs, documentaries, and dramas focusing upon civil rights marches, racial conflict, and other aspects of the struggle for black liberation have become available via American television stations. Radio broadcasts, especially from black oriented, soul music stations in the United States, have played a similar role. Newspapers and books do not seem to have been particularly significant in this regard. Black leaders ranging from the late Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Rev. Ralph Abernathy to Muhammad Ali have become well known. The assassination of the former during my stay in the community met with mixed reactions. Several whites expressed happiness that a "trouble making criminal" was dead. Many blacks lamented the passing of a "true Christian." Other such events have met with similarly mixed reactions. The rapid expansion of out-island tourism and black ethnic consciousness has coincided with the later stages of a significant series of events in the political system of the Bahama Islands. In 1953, a two party system arose with the emergence of the black dominated Progressive Liberal Party. Its influence grew to the point where its members were able to take control of the government in 1967. Actually, the majority in the Bahamian House of Assembly was a coalition of P.L.P. members plus one independent and one Labour Party member against the traditional ruling party, the United Bahamian Party. In another election in 1968, the P.L.P. won a huge, clear-cut majority in the House of Assembly. In this latter election, the P.L.P. gained one of the two Assembly seats for the Abaco region, a traditionally white, Loyalist, U.B.P. stronghold. The black led C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 15 ...---- % . W.- -** AL government has subsequently pushed for, and in 1973 obtained, Bahamian independence from Britain. SOCIO-CULTURAL CHANGE Because the expansion of wage labor opportunity via the growth of local tourism has coincided with the local rise of black ethnic consciousness and the appearance of the first black controlled government in Bahamian history, the precise impact of each factor is not always easy to isolate. Some cause and effect relationships are rather clear-cut; other changes seem to have resulted from the interplay of several causal variables. The material conditions of existence within the New Plymouth community have changed consider- ably in recent years, largely due to the increased flow of cash into the community's economic system. The advent or expansion of a system of wage labor has often been associated with such change. In many parts of the Caribbean culture-area, however, this has involved migratory wage labor. On Green Turtle Cay, migratory wage labor has never been particularly important; in-community wage labor has been critical. The increased availability of cash on Green Turtle Cay has meant that several subsistence-related activities have declined in importance. Fewer and fewer individuals bother with vegetable gardens. Only four households still have livestock. Both horticulture and animal husbandry are now considered primitive and demeaning by all but a few of the settlement's older residents. Local fish and, to a greater extent, produce have become secondary items in the diet. Such foods have been relegated to this secondary position in favor of the more expensive and diversified packaged foods that are imported by local shopkeepers. Beyond the realm of diet, an increased variety of material possessions are now present within the settlement. Greater cash income has meant that more households have been able to obtain new furniture, television sets, telephones, kitchen appliances, fiber- glass boats, and outboard motors. The appearance of fiberglass.boats has contributed to the decline of local boatbuilding. New Plymouth, like its neighboring Loyalist settlements, was once well-known for its seaworthy dinghies. No new boats have been constructed on Green Turtle Cay in recent years because the imported ones are lighter and easier to handle and because the men who made them are now able to earn more money in endeavors such as house construction. No members of the younger generation have learned this craft from their fathers or uncles, the traditional teachers of such skills. Essentially equal wage labor opportunities for members of both of New Plymouth's racial groups have provided the basis for a trend toward greater material equality within the community. Despite this potential, however, material equality is still far from a Page 16 C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 reality. Another variable beyond wage labor oppor- tunity is involved. Black household units tend to be considerably larger than their white counterparts. Mean black household size is 4.4 whereas mean white household size is 3.2. For nuclear family households, the black subculture's mean size is 7.5 and the white sub-culture's mean size is 4.7. Therefore, the probability of absolute racial equality in a material sense is diminished regardless of gross economic similarity. Nonetheless, the gulf between the material existence of Green Turtle Cay's two ethnic groups has begun to narrow. Prior to the tourism and wage labor boom of the 1960's, influential whites were able to control the allocation of jobs and cash within the community. The new economic context, however, has created a labor market situation in which the potential employers need wage labor at least as urgently as the potential employees need wages. Contracts must be honored and deadlines must be met regardless of the impact upon old socio-cultural patterns. Selective and small-scale hiring practices have given way to mass hiring with little or no consideration for the status quo. Further, resident alien and tourist facility hiring are done on the basis of ability and dependability rather than on the basis of race. The trend toward racial equality in a social sense has been quite pronounced. The greater availability of cash due to wage labor expansion has meant that one of the major mechanisms of white social dominance has been weakened. Credit in local shops has become a rather empty threat for most black households. In general, deferential black to white behavior is declining. For example, all but the oldest and most tradition-bound blacks approach white homes via the front entrance. Further, the respectful "Mister" and "Mizz" are disappearing from black adult to white adult speech. These terms of address remain in most child to adult speech, regardless of race. The several white men who have refused to work with blacks have been put in the position of working alone on small jobs, working with blacks on larger jobs, or not working at all. They must accommodate themselves to others rather than the reverse holding true. As implied earlier, the mass-hiring associated with the tourism boom has meant, among other things, that black workers need not be deferential toward white co-workers or bosses in order to obtain or maintain their jobs. According to informants from each racial group, cross-racial joking relationships and conflicts are both much more common than was previously the case. Seemingly, social interaction across racial lines is becoming more open and spontaneous. Feelings, both positive and negative, are more apt to be expressed than was the case in the past. The probability of courtship and marriage across racial lines is still far from an actuality. In many old Loyalist settlements, whites have: "maintained their racial integrity with the tenacity reserved for the retention of the last family heirloom." There is no apparent desire among Green Turtle Cay's black population for intermarriage but this practice is assumed to be a major black objective by most whites. Intra-racial joking often deals with a friend's alleged sexual attraction to one or another of the opposite ethnic group's least attractive members. The segregation of young people of the opposite sex is easily the most extreme racial segregation present within the settlement. Changes of some magnitude are taking place within the ideology of New Plymouth's black sub-culture. The old black self-image of dependence upon whites is rapidly changing in the direction of an image of black independence. The older stereotype is now limited to older individuals. New role models of successful and assertive black leaders are now available to youngsters during the critical early years of the enculturation process. Both blacks and whites on Green Turtle Cay are well-aware of the recent emergence and rapid growth of this phenomenon. Less obvious, perhaps, is the black sub-cultural value of large family size. Concomitant with this is the disapproval of the practice of birth control of any kind. Birth control has never been systematically practiced by the settlement's black population. The result has been large family size. Today, this traditional practice is given a new rationale. The practice of birth control, as practiced by many white residents of Green Turtle Cay, is deemed to be politically foolish. There is strength in numbers. Worldwide black numerical superiority is perceived as one of the major keys to international political power. Many of Green Turtle Cay's blacks, especially its younger ones, are becoming increasingly aware of the various cross-national symbols of black ethnic consciousness. Afro hairstyles, clinched-fist salutes, and soul music are all present within the community. Such mechanisms serve to simultaneously set their bearers apart from both whites and traditionally subservient blacks. Further, the white reaction to these symbols has not gone unnoticed. Green Turtle Cay's white sub-culture has also been influenced by the growth of black ethnic conscious- ness and the rise to political power of Bahamian blacks. Again, these changes have been largely ideological. Feelings of inherent white superiority, both morally and intellectually, have not been shaken. Rather, local whites believe themselves to have been victimized by a series of inter-related conspiracies. Invariably, these plots involve Bahamian blacks from beyond Green Turtle Cay, liberal Americans, and some non-Bahamian blacks. Such conspiratorial theories tend to view the black political takeover of the Bahama Islands as a boost to Florida's tourist industry. The assumption here is that white tourists would ultimately be made to feel unwelcome in a black controlled domain. It is further assumed that the black power-lust is matched by a black disregard for the grave economic consequences of this policy. White opinions have varied as to the best means of adaptation to black ethnic consciousness and expanding political power. Some local whites have envisioned a tough, Rhodesia-like regime. Other whites more realistically view peaceful co-existence as the ultimate ideal. The most frequently stated option, however, has been that of emigrating from the Bahamas for a white dominated region within the United States. Well developed contingency plans for emergency evacuations exist. Fearful whites have stated that two actions might precipitate this exodus: forced intermarriage with blacks and overt physical domination of whites by blacks. After nearly two centuries of relative isolation and white socio-economic domination of blacks, the New Plymouth settlement on Green Turtle Cay is changing I& IL". r Photo by Ronala Rose, Bahamas Ministry or Tourism. in a rapid and significant manner. Factors from beyond the community, such as the growth of black ethnic consciousness, black political emergence in the Bahama Islands, and the coming of tourists to the out-islands, have wrought these changes. The changes are irrevocable and they range throughout spectrum of socio-cultural life. Some residual differences in wealth exist between the community's two ethnic groups. The pattern of future change will probably be in the direction of separate but equal existence if the white population can maintain a certain critical mass. If, however, emigration and birth control take too great a toll, the remaining white breeding population will cease to be a viable entity. The remnants would then be absorbed, scatter, or simply die out. The black population will, in any case, continue the already existent trend toward extracommunity communication and interaction. * C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 17 I I S I .I ~c~-~~- CERTIFICAl CARIBBEAN S' OVER 20 CARIBBEAN AND C * CREDIT COURSES OFFERED DEPARTMENTS IN THE COLL CERTIFICATE REQUIREMENT COMPLETION OF SIX CARIBE 30 CREDITS FROM AT LEAST DEPARTMENTS. * FOR FURTHER INFORMATION] KEN BOODHOO DEPARTMENT OF POLITICAL FLORIDA INTERNATIONAL U MIAMI, FLORIDA 33144 aE~JmfIJp** .: E * an iiimifimibmi -^ -. ihiaft-j& E IN rUDIES ARIBBEAN-RELATED FROM SIX 5EGE. 'S INCLUDE SUCCESSFUL LEAN COURSES OR TWO DIFFERENT N WRITE TO SCIENCE UNIVERSITY a SUSU By Daniel Levin The examination of the inter-relationship between susu, a rotating credit association, and other local institutions of the financial market in Trinidad is part of a larger study. The larger study is based on in-depth interviews in the fild with bank officials, civil servants, local anthropologists, credit union executives, and businessmen. In addition a pilot survey was conducted among the members of fifteen different susus. The susus were selected to represent as much as possible the residential (urban/rural), class, and ethnic divisions in Trinidad society. The inter-relationship between susu, a rotating credit institution, and the rest of the financial market in Trinidad is important because of increased possibili- ties for the provision of capital to the individual. The mechanism for this increase lies in both the maximization of savings potential and the easement of credit restrictions. Susu is formed on a core of participants who agree to make regular contributions to a fund which is given to each contributor in rotation. For example, ten people will agree to deposit $100 each into a fund every month. Thus the fund will contain $1000. Each month in succession one of the ten members will receive the $1000 until at the end of the month all members will have received the money. Susu is similar to the Christmas Club savings plan in the United States. The two systems possess certain mechanisms in common, i.e.: a predetermined amount of money set as a goal, a specific amount for deposit at regular intervals, the encouragement of a feeling of obligation to save, and assurance of receiving back all that one had contributed. However, there are aspects of susu that are unique. In contrast to a Christmas Club, susu is not run by a bank or any other formal organization such as a credit union. Rather, susu is informal in its structure and membership. The members are usually friends, relatives, or fellow workers, and there are no fixed rules except those decided by the members of each susu. In a Christmas Club it is necessary to wait until Christmas before the amount of money set as a goal is received. In susu the money could be received not only at the end, as in a Christmas Club, but at anytime between the start and finish of the susu. The time at which any particular individual will receive his money will be dependent on the conventions of that susu. The order can be determined by lot, rotation, or mutual consent between the head of the susu and its members. By definition susu is a credit association i.e. a group consisting of borrowers and lenders. The borrowers receive their fund in the first half of the round and the lenders receive their's in the second. Since the lenders do not charge interest they are transferring their potential interest earnings to other members. If one assumes the nature of economy lies in the optimum allocation of resources to accomplish a goal and assuming the goal is maximization of interest, then one may hypothesize that everyone would want to be borrowers and receive an early fund. Surprisingly, in a study that we undertook only about 16% of all the respondents wanted an early fund. One may infer that not many of the respondents are cognizant of the concept of interest. However, the study showed that a substantial number are well aware of interest. A possible answer to the anomaly presented is the existence of another goal which overrides the C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 19 maximization of interest. This alternate goal might be the maximization of savings potential. Although it is true there was some cogizance of susu as a credit institution, this was small in comparison to the savings response. An overwhelming amount of people in the pilot survey saw the institution of susu as one of savings rather than one of credit. Another question on our survey dealt with preferences for receiving a fund late in the round. 62% of the valid responses said, it was easier to save if they received a late fund. The respondents believed they were saving if they receive their fund near the end of the round. On the other hand, if they receive an early fund and spend it, the entire exercise becomes somewhat meaningless. All of the preceding arguments seem to point out that members of susu regard it more as a personal savings institution than as a credit institution. The most important characteristic of susu seems to be its ability to exert pressure and release reservoirs of potential savings. Susu exerts influence through social pressure. If one quits the susu before receiving the fund, he will inconvenience his fellow members and will gain a reputation of being unable to live up to his financial obligations. If a member quits after he receives the fund it would be the same as defaulting on a loan. Not only will the social pressure from his peers be brought to bear, but legal pressure as well since the defaulter can be brought to court. These pressures are not present in the ordinary type of savings plan that an individual initiates with his bank. Another way in which susu exerts pressure to save is by providing a repository for small amounts of money that would be otherwise spent. Illustrative of this is the example of the sixteen salesmen of a local food processing firm. Every lunch-break they gambled. One day they decided to put the money, instead into a susu. At the end of four years they had accumulated $42,000TT, which they have since invested in a restaurant. Many people do not have the initiative to systematically put aside some money, deposit it, and leave it untouched until the goal has been reached. Susu helps to overcome this hindrance in that there are no forms to fill out and no line in which to wait. Since the head of the susu is in close proximity to the members, no one has to travel to deposit the money, whereas many times banks are located at a considerable distance from the potential saver. There are other characteristics of susu that make it attractive to the potential member. Susu can be a social event in that it provides another reason for friends to get together. It serves as another expression of solidarity, for example, an office manager said that he had joined the office susu largely to demonstrate that he was part of the group. Another attractive characteristic of susu is that it is an uncomplicated way to obtain money. If one borrows money from a bank it is usually necessary to provide information that many people are not willing to release. This attitude is understandable considering Page 20 C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 the behavior of people in general and aspects of Trinidad society in particular. Most people, not just Trinidadians, have qualms about revealing their income to anyone. This attitude extends into areas where there is a tradition of discretion such as the relationship between a person and his banker. Even though it would be unthinkable that a loan officer in a Trinidad bank would betray a trust, some people have such a penchant for privacy that they would not want to devulge either their income or the purpose for which the money is intended. In a susu no one asks anything of anyone. The only requirement is that all payments be made on time. The last attractive feature of susu is the possibility of earning more interest on the face amount than would be possible with a savings account in a bank. For example, if a person deposits $100 per month in a savings account for ten months at 6% interest, at the end of that period he might have earned only about $30 interest. However, the same person could enter a susu where he puts in his share of $100 a month and draws his money in the first month of the susu. He could then bank the money and earn almost $60 in interest. Of course if he receives one of the later funds, he will lose money in comparison to a savings account in a bank. A remarkable circumstance concerning the rotating credit association in Trinidad is that each of the three major ethnic groups in Trinidad (Chinese, African, and East Indian) brought their rotating credit association with them. However, due to some degree of Hindu acculturation after the Second World War, there is some doubt as to whether chitty (the East Indian rotating credit association) still exists. Hence, only hui, the Chinese rotating credit association, will be discussed. It should be noted, however, that chitty is quite similar to hui. There are several points of difference between hui and susu. First, the order for receiving the fund is decided by competitive bidding, the proceeds of which are redistributed to the members as interest payments. For example, assume that a hui with a $10,000TT fund has 50 people who deposit $200TT a month. The founder is entitled to receive the first fund without paying interest. Each succeeding fund will be the subject of secret bidding on the first of each month at twelve noon. The highest bidder will receive the fund. For example, one bid may be for $5TT, another for $7.50TT and another for $10TT. Therefore the person who bid $10TT would receive the fund. At this time he must pay $10TT to each of the members of the hui who have not received their fund yet. Since the founder of the hui has already received the first fund, the recipient of the second fund must pay $10 X 48 or $480TT. This is done by having the founder subtract the $480TT from the $10,000TT before giving it to the recipient. The founder would then distribute the $10TT to each of the 48 members of the hui. To take the illustration one point further, the tenth fund will be examined. Suppose again that $10TT is the top bid. The interest that the recipient of the tenth fund should pay would be $10 X 40 since forty people at the time of the drawing of the tenth fund have not yet received the fund. The recipient only has to pay interest once, and that is when he bids and wins his hand. After that he merely repays by depositing his $200 a month. At the same time however, he no longer receives any interest as soon as he becomes a recipient. This process continues until the last fund is taken. The interest paid on the sums in hui is usually fairly low. For example, a typical bid for the second fund of a $10,000TT susu would be around $15TT. This would mean that the recipient would pay $720TT of a $10,000TT fund. This would work out to be a bank rate of 1.8% per annum on a four year loan, which is not a usurious rate by any means. Perhaps one of the most interesting features of hui is the amount of money involved. The amount is usually over $5000TT with the most common amount being around $10,000TT. This range is substantially higher than susu, where the highest recorded amount was $1300TT. Possibly the reason that hui has such a large fund is that usually the money received is invested in business. In order for it to be worthwhile for businessmen to engage in it, the sums involved must be large enough to make a difference as far as investment is concerned. Before the Chinese Society Building burned down, a Chinese could always get help from there. Now that the Chinese Society is defunct, it is the only way that these funds can be made available. There are other characteristics of hui that distinguish it from susu. For example, there is an element of gambling that is not present in susu. There is always the possibility that someone could win a fund with a bid of only 504TT because no one bothered to submit bids for that month. An informant described just such an event with a glee that is usually reserved for telling about a winning bet on a horse at 50 to 1 odds. Many of the elements of susu previously discussed are reflected in other savings and credit institutions in Trinidad. The following discussion will be devoted to the description of the institutions and the characteris- tics of susu residing in them. For example, in 1914 the Trinidad Cooperative Bank opened a savings program that made provisions for the small depositor. Bank, popularity known as the "Penny Bank." was founded on the premise that everyone, should enjoy the benefits of savings and credit. The idea for the cooperative bank was started in 1904 in the offices of the Mirror, a large newspaper. The initial organization grew until in 1914 it was incorporated into a full-fledged bank. Prior to the establishment of the Trinidad Co-operative Bank, there were only three physical locations where it was possible to bank, and these were all in Port-of-Spain. In places like this were theonly thing that could suruiue! A. The Action Machine AIWA'scassette-recorder/radio *.... Tough, grueling race over rough terrain. Man against machine. What a beating! Mile after mile. Hour after hour. Tired. Man? Completely exhausted. Machine? Playing away happily, just like when it left the facto- ry. The Action Machine, "RECORDIO". A unique cassette recorder and multi-band radio. Built rugged to take action. Records through a super-sensitive ECM. Compact. Easy to use. A fantastic 1,000mW output. ALC assures best recording performance even bouncing down a rough road. The TPR-501-a technological wonder-likeevery AIWA product, is master-crafted down to the smallest detail. Result? Top performance indoors or out! 24-13, 3-chome, Yushima, Bunkyo-ku, Tokyo, Japan AIWA AIWA for craftsmanship AIV TPR-501 C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 21 "C~J~~* _r"U~Y" A shilling not a small sum for 1914, was required to start a savings plan in any of these three banks. Credit arrangements were also quite stringent. The Co- operative Bank inaugurated a completely new policy. At the bank it was possible to open a savings account with as little an amount as one penny, and hence the name "Penny Bank." In addition, its credit policy was much more liberal than any other in existence at the time. A system which shows the influence of susu directly is a method of payment called the susu plan which is used at some stores in Port-of-Spain. In general, there are two methods of payment in places like furniture and appliances stores. One is called hire purchase, and the other is cash payment. The regular hire purchase method requires a one-third down payment, and the rest in regular installments. The customer receives the goods when he pays the down payment. The advantage of the regular cash payment is that the customer usually gets from 10% to 20% off the price of the item. The susu plan is incorporated into both methods of payment. With the susu hire-purchase method, the purchaser deposits small amounts of money when he chooses. There is no attempt to force someone to make regular payments of a fixed amount. When the purchaser has accumulated the amount of the down payment, he is given the merchandise, and the arrangement is switched to the regular hire-purchase method. The susu plan with the cash payment method works along the same lines, except that there is a 10-20% discount in the cost of the item. The customer pays his money in whatever amounts and at whatever time intervals he wishes. When he accumulates the price of the item minus the discount, he receives the item. In both susu plans, the initial payments are regarded as expressions of intent to buy and are enough to "lay away" the item. As in the Trinidad Co-operative Bank, this susu plan serves the function of encouraging twe saving of small amounts of money that would ordinarily be spent. The National Commercial Bank of Trinidad and Tobago has created what is called the Chaconia Accumulation Plan. The provisions of the plan call for a signed agreement to some fixed amount, not less than $50TT each month for twelve months. At the end of the year interest will be paid at an effective rate of 6% compunded monthly. If the savings are stopped, the depositor loses nothing except a drop in the interest rate to 3%. To make savings for the individual easier, the bank will arrange monthly transfers into the Chaconia account. Of the approximately 1000 Chaconia depositors, about 50 % of them choose to save $100 per month, 30% save $50 per month, and 20% save $200 and over per month. Although susu may not have directly influenced the Chaconia plan, the Chaconia functions much the same way as susu does with its specific time span and amount of the deposits and the regularity of payment. One of the outstanding features of the plan is the signed agreement. This agreement exerts a psycholog- ical pressure similar to that exerted by susu in that both institutions manage to instill a sense of obligation in the potential saver. Of course, the mechanics of the pressure are different. In the case of susu the pressure of one's friends and associates are brought to bear, and this constitutes probably one of the most effective pressures possible. With the Chaconia Plan, it would appear that legal aspects of the signed agreement are the sanctions for stopping the savings plan. However, it is more likely that the majority of the depositors realize that the agreement could not be enforced in a court of law. This does not mean, however, that the agreement is useless. In fact, the document stands as a mute testimonial to the depositor's desire to save and thus tends to encourage the saver and put pressure on him to honor his pledge. In addition, the provision for the automatic transfer of money into the savings plan puts it at even a greater advantage than susu as far as ease of savings is concerned. One of the functions of susu is made possible by the proximity of the head of the susu to the depositor. Even so, the depositor must receive his wages and then take the required sum to the founder. With the Chaconia Plan the depositor does not even have to do that. He does not have to take any positive action at all in order to save. In fact it would require a positive action on his part not to save. The Bank of Nova Scotia has a plan similar to the Chaconia which is called the Personal Security Program. The depositor is given a choice of eleven amounts for savings goals that are reached by making fifty monthly payments. The monthly payments vary from $2 to $80 depending on which of the eleven amounts the depositor chose for his savings goal. Although the PSP pays only five percent as contrasted with the Chaconia's six percent, the PSP provides life insurance equal to the savings goal selected. Therefore, if a depositor dies, his bene- ficiaries will receive the savings goal, the money saved up until the time of death, plus the interest that would have accrued had the account gone full term. From the viewpoint of this particular study, the PSP has two advantages over the Chaconia. The first is that the sanction for discontinuence of the PSP is greater than that of the Chaconia. With the PSP, if the plan is stopped, the life insurance provision is dropped. Thus something very tangible serves as a penalty for halting ones participation in the plan. Secondly, because the monthly payments can range from $2 to $80, there exists a potentially greater range of people who can participate in the PSP as opposed to the Chaconia. The Chaconia is geared to the medium and large depositors, while the PSP caters to the smaller depositor. Thus the PSP is judged to be more in the spirit of susu than the Chaconia due to the more powerful sanctions and the greater versatility. Page 22 C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 The last institution to be discussed is the Workers Bank. The innovation of the Workers Bank was to provide easy credit, without the necessity of collateral, on a moderately large sum of money (up to $1,000). Before the establishment of the Workers Bank, the best chance for a working man to obtain money from a bank was to borrow from the Trinidad Co-operative Bank. However this necessitated the holding of shares in the bank. The only criterion for securing a loan from the Workers Bank is to have one's pay check processed by the bank so that it can remove the amount that was agreed upon beforehand by the bank and the individual. Thus it can be seen that the Workers Bank satisfies one of the economic functions of susu, i.e., the provision of easy credit for small to moderate sums of money. Another possibility for the easement of credit restrictions is to create linkages with other financial institutions using susu participation as collateral and evidence of trustworthiness. For example, in a factory susu which was studied, the workers only had a $300TT susu. This was not enough to buy land on which they could construct a house. However, what they did was to borrow $1,000TT from the factory credit union and repay with money from their susu. If cooperatives, banks and other credit unions could give loans based on a person's performance and payment potential as reflected in a reputable susu, then the restrictions on credit could be greatly reduced in Trinidad. It is not the intent of this study to conclusively prove that susu can increase the availability of capital to the individual in Trinidadian society, rather it is hoped that susu and other local savings and credit institutions may be looked at in a new light. With a few notable exceptions, the study of local security institutions has been the purview of the anthropol- ogists. In general, the anthropologists have not attempted to apply their findings to a larger scale than the unit they studied. The other social scientists seem to pay little attention to the valuable data collected by the anthropologist. By pointing out the possibilities for development through the use of local security institutions, it is hoped more attention will be paid by all of the social scientists to these institutions and the potential they may possess. In the meantime, the future of susu in its present form seems to be secure. The strength of the institution derives from its cultural roots in all three of the largest ethnic groups in Trinidad: the Negroes, the East Indians, and the Chinese. It also fulfils certain economic functions such as savings, credit, and insurance. In the perception of the members of susu, the savings function is salient. The provision of credit is a much less important function of susu, however, it does exist. The insurance aspect of susu not only functions as insurance against the expenses caused by sudden disaster i.e. death, fire, accident, etc., but also as unemployment insurance. The cane workers deposit half of their salary into a susu during the harvest so that they have an income during the rest of the year. And finally susu serves a social function in reaffirming the bonds between members of a group or community. By considering the potentialities of susu, it is possible to realize its capability for raising the level of capital formation and thus reducing the amount of money which comes to Trinidad as loans or grants from the more developed countries. This in turn will increase the sense of national economic and political independence. The above can only occur if susu is integrated with the other local savings and credit institutions in Trinidad: credit unions, cooperatives, mutual benefit societies, and local banks. * C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 23 From ANOTHER PLACE, Scrimshaw Press. CENTRAL AMERICA'S ECONOMIC FAMILY By Bernard Coard The Central American Integration Movement started with a series of bilateral trade agreements among the five Central American Republics of Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua and Costa Rica during the early and mid-nineteen-fifties. It developed into the Multilateral Treaty of 1960, signed by the three northern countries which, in modified form, became the General Treaty of Central American Integration. By 1963, all five countries had ratified, and begun to implement the Treaty. The decision-making process leading to the formation and functioning of the Central American Common Market (CACM) is significant in many respects. Firstly, it was a decision-making process initiated mainly by the "tMcnicos" of the Mexico City branch of the United Nations Economic Commission for Latin America (ECLA). Secondly, the strategy for the operation of the Common Market was one of deliberately highlighting the economic gains from integration, and minimising the political costs. In the drawing up of the list of goods to be freed of tariffs within given periods of time, all the politically sensitive goods like coffee, wheat and oil were deliberately excluded. Thirdly, aid from outside the region was an integral part of the strategy. The nine major Central American integration institutions, including the Secretariat and the Central American Page 24- C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 Bank for Economic Integration, received the vast majority of their operating income from outside the region. Fourthly, the decision making process involved, at different stages, five major actors the ECLA "tecnicos", The United States Government and its many agencies, the "ticnicos" in the various member countries, the political/military elites in power in the respective countries, and the foreign and local business communities. Conspicuously absent were organized labour unions of urban workers, peasant organizations or consumer groups. These five remain ten to twelve years after the inception of the Common Market the only significant actors in the on-going decision-making process. Fifthly, the CACM was conceived by the ticnicos and the political elites as the major instrument for overcoming economic backwardness and for achieving economic development. The level of social and political unrest in all five countries rose rapidly from the 1929 depression through the Second World War and remained high during the fifties. The acceptance of an ideology of economic development, particularly following the emergence of the Arbenz regime in Guatemala during 1950/54 and of the Cuban Revolution in January 1959 became an absolute necessity. The failure of the countries to achieve significant economic growth as individual units during the fifties convinced them that economic integration was the only feasible approach to the attainment of self-sustaining growth and economic transformation. Finally, the CACM was conceived fundamentally along laissez-faire lines, i.e. there was no attempt at regional planning and, indeed, every attempt was made to avoid conflicts with national development plans. The Common Market Strategy was one of the rapid elimination of tariff barriers amongst member countries, thereby stimulating trade within the region and the erection of common tariff barriers with the outside world in order to implement a strategy of import substitution. The success of this strategy can be seen from the phenomenal growth in intra-Central American trade between 1961 and 1970, and in the growth of the manufacturing sector. This strategy involved, therefore, the integrated exchange of goods, but consciously avoided the integrated and planned production of these goods on a regional basis, which would have involved a much higher level of political commitment to integration and a loss of some unit autonomy. % EXPORTS BY AREA OF DESTINATION FOR THE YEARS 1968-1970 Year United European Central Japan Other States Common America Market (CACM) (of the six) 1968 1969 1970 32.0 34.0 33.5 19.3 20.6 21.0 26.9 25.6 26.7 9.5 12.3 8.4 11.4 7.5 11.3 Source: Banco Centroamericano de Integraci6n Econ6mica (Compiled from Centro America en Cifras 1971). Laissez-faire therefore characterized the attitude towards the location of industries among and within the countries. This led to the aggravation of already existing regional imbalances in the rate of economic growth and, particularly, the rate of growth of the industrial sector among the countries, as new industries tended to gravitate towards those cities and member-countries (Guatemala City, San Salvador) which already had relatively developed industrial bases. Honduras in 1966 made demands for major concessions as a result of its minimal benefits from the CACM. In 1970, when the situation had not improved, Honduras withdrew from the CACM. Laissez-faire also characterized the attitude to- wards foreign investment. No significant conditions were attached as to the type or amount of foreign investment to be encouraged or as to what industries should be out of bounds for foreign investment. No limits were imposed on the repatriation of profits. C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 25 His talent made him famous. His humanity made him immortal. CLEMIVNTE by Kal Wagenheim Foreword by Wilfrid Sheed Roberto Clemente. Winner of four league batting championships. S Recently named to the Baseball Hall of Fame. This is the story of his life, based on personal interviews with Clemente's family, friends, teachers and fellow team members. "Kal Wagenheim has drawn the true dimensions of this complex, extraor- dinary man." -Congressman Herman Badillo Illustrated with 16 pages of photos $6.95 orfQ2 r 111 Fourth Avenue New York 10003 Multinational corporations were not restricted to investment in new lines of manufactures, but were permitted to buy out already established, profit- making local firms, as they proceeded to do to some considerable extent in most of the countries. It is important to appreciate the structural backwardness of the economies and societies in Central America at the time of the formation of the CACM in order to assess how these structures helped to shape the integration strategy that was followed and in order to measure against that background the present economic and societal structures which have emerged. Duality characterized the economies and the societies. Relatively modem technological processes were to be found side by side with obsolete and even primitive technological processes. Capital/labour ratios, consumption and taste patterns varied widely from industry to industry and from urban area to rural area. This remains largely the same today. The Indian and Mestizo masses were largely rural, illiterate, mal-nourished, poorly paid and poorly integrated into the money economy and divorced from meaningful participation in the political processes of their respective countries. Precisely the opposite was and remains true of the tiny European, Mestizo and resident expatriate elites. The heavy structural dependence of the five economies on agriculture, and within agriculture on two commodities each for the vast majority of their exports is clear. Their dependence on the United States for their exports is also clear. While this export dependence on the United States drops from 76% of all Central American exports in 1952 to 46% in 1959, and to 33.5% in 1970, there has been a corresponding increase in intra-Central American trade produced by American corporations operating within the CACM, so much so that in 1970 nearly one-half of all manufactured items of intra-Central American trade was produced by United States firms set up within the region to avoid the high tariff barriers with third countries. Because the strategy of economic development within the frame-work of regional integration had, by political necessity, to be by private enterprise, there were only two sources of capital for the emergence of the import-substitution industrial bases in the five countries: the traditional landed elite with its wealth in coffee and other crops, and the private foreign investors largely United States multinational corporations. The "new industrial elite" is therefore the same as the "old traditional elite." In this respect, therefore, there has been no socio-economic struc- tural change. Political and economic power have remained in the same hands, and as concentrated as before. Import substitution has functioned in the context of the negligible purchasing power of the masses and has, therefore, been based on the production of non-essential consumer goods to suit the demand Page 26- C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 consumption patterns of the dominant elites and the middle income sectors in the population. This has, in turn, led to the high import quotient, high capital-labour ratio, high foreign technology imput of the production process, which is the antithesis of any meaningful development strategy. The efficient implementation and operation of these elite-oriented non-essential consumer goods industries has necessitated a close collaboration between foreign and local capital through the joint venture system so that both the multinational corporations and the local capitalists have become integrated on a regional basis and form a powerful vested interest group resisting controls on their activities essential for meaningful structural trans- formation of the economies. COFFEE, BANANAS AND COTTON AS PERCENTAGES OF THE TOTAL EXPORT TRADE outside of the CACM area, 1970 (CACM treated as one unit) Coffee ........................................................ 42.4% Coffee, Bananas ......................................... 60.2% Coffee, Bananas, Cotton ............................ 71.0% Source: Banco Centro Americano de Integraci6n Econ6mica. (Compiled from Centro-America en Cifras 1971) The outstanding feature of the CACM experience is that the expanded industrial bases in the meniber- countries and the phenomenal increases in the intra-Central American trade (up to 1970) have been achieved largely through a strategy of greater dependence on the United States. The Central American economies today are more integrated with the United States economy than perhaps with each other. Certainly, there is valid room for speculation as to which of the two simultaneous integration processes is now the more advanced. This dependence can be measured by various indicators. Firstly, the level of the United States Foreign Investment in the countries. In the 1950's, United States investment was preponderantly in the agricultural sector, of the economy. Approximately thirty per cent of the manufacturing sectors of all five countries are owned by United States corporations. Over sixty per cent of the Costa Rican industrial Sector is owned by United States corporations. No country can achieve self-sustaining growth, the elimination of high rates of unemployment, and the lateral and vertical integration of its major economic sectors, without the development of a locally-based technology. Central America, like many other Third World areas, has contented itself with absorbing, without adaptation (e.g., to meet local needs for greater labour utilization) United States and other foreign technology machines, skills, processes on a wholesale basis in all its industries. One witnesses the spectacle in Central America of countries, each with high rates of unemployment, and particularly El Salvador, with one of the highest population to land ratios in the world, not only utilizing capital-intensive methods of production in all the industries, but positively encouraging this through Government policies over the past twelve years. Each of the member-countries' "laws of industrial promotion" permits the importation of capital goods machinery free of all taxes, and the Central American Bank for Economic Integration (over eighty per cent of whose external resources are provided by the United States) provides loans for these industries at rates significantly cheaper than the market rate of interest. In these two ways, the true price of the capital used by these industries is made artificially cheap, with no compensatory incentive to the investor to increase the labour-quotient in his production process. Because of this overwhelming reliance on foreign investment, foreign technology and foreign manage- ment, we can appreciate the high import bill for both capital goods and raw materials, the significant capital leakage each year in the form of the repatriation of profits and royalties and the low value-added "finish-touch" "assembly" and "drawback" in- dustries which have sprung up all over. Most alarmingly, in terms of the development of the region, is the virtual impossibility of anything more than a fraction of the industrial production of the area ever being exported to third countries. This is because of two factors: the use by United States corporations in Central America of machinery and industrial processes which are in varying degrees out of date, resulting in relatively uncompetitive costs and poor quality of production in many cases. These goods sell easily in Central America because of high tariffs erected to keep producers in third countries out. Secondly, the licensing agreements under which United States corporations and local firms operate in Central America, restrict to the Central American region, the sale of the goods produced with the machines and industrial processes of these Multi- national Corporations. This is because the Multi- national Corporations have other businesses on similar terms in other countries throughout the world, and they naturally want to exclude competi- tion with each other. With the exhaustion of most of the avenues for import-substitution in Central America, this threat to the countries' export potential in manufactures arises directly out of their strategy of near-total depend- ence, and faces them with a serious crisis of development in the coming years. Dependence does not preclude growth. Indeed, under conditions of structural backwardness depend- ence may be utilized by governments as a strategy for achieving economic growth. Economic growth, in underdeveloped economies, therefore, can and frequently does go hand in hand with a state of dependence for short periods of time. However, the critical factor here is that for any given increase in the rate of growth, a greater increase in dependence is necessary for its attainment. Economic growth based on dependence is always precarious and relies on the fate of the economy to which the country is largely dependent. It does not lead to structural transforma- tion, a necessary condition for self-sustained growth. CENTRAL AMERICAN LITERACY RATES, 1960 Per cent of Population 15 years and over Classified as Literate Guatemala ........................................................ 28 El Salvador ........................................... ...... 43 Honduras ..................................... ........... .. 35 Nicaragua ..................................... .......... .. 40 Costa Rica .................................... ............ 89 Source: Thorsten V. Kalijarvi, Central America: Land of Lords and Lizards (New York: D. Van Nostrand Co., Inc., 1962), p. 14. What we have witnessed is economic growth - industrial growth and the growth in intra-regional trade without affecting positively (and in some cases worsening) the economic and social development of the societies. As one key tecnico in Central America put it: to effect development in Central America you must attempt to solve the massive unemployment and underemployment which exists in all five countries; you must begin to solve Salvador's population problem, with its repercussions on Salvadorean/Honduran relations; you have to start tackling the problem of the non-integration of the Guatemalan Indian (fifty-four per cent of Guate- mala's population) into the social, economic and political life of the country; you must have as the major objective of any development plan the elimination of basic poverty the elimination of the high rates of illiteracy, malnutrition, poor health, and almost zero purchasing power of the majority of the population. If the CACM can lay claim to having begun in any significant way to process leading to the elimination of any of these, then the CACM has some relationship to the development of Central America. The evidence does not permit the CACM to make such a claim. * C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 27 THE FUTURE OF TOMORROW By O. R. Dathorne Extract from Dr. Pietro's Future of Tomorrow." missive entitled "The ... because of the flood and the fire, because of all the unwisdoms that have been uttered, because of the lack of form and order, there are a number of men who sleep without, women lying drunk or dead in gutters. All flights have been cancelled and living is postponed till the day after tomorrow. The blind tenants of the earth can no longer copulate because of their secret fear of guilt and the indecent lives of any two neighboring houses have the dull, bland look of the damned. For the moment we have had to expel divinty as useless. The prayers we offered were not heard and those we did not offer stifled our breasts and kept us awake at nights fretting for a priest who had died and whose wish it was to offer the last sacrament of ashes. He was so young much too young for dying and when he fell cross-wise off his motor-cycle, his catechism spurting blood, we could not think. The moment of forgiveness staggered and collapsed. Those who are not sleeping are awake and drunk. Those who are not sick are lying in houses where walls have been blown away and private lives stare at the front garden. If one writes so much it might be misconstrued by the censors of the public ear. This is in fact what is to be expected at this time of the season; grass has been burnt dry but no new sprouts come up and hungry cattle roam over deserts of parched earth. - One must get used to the piracy of the soul, for in the absence of sky-rockets, herbs keep company and there are no moon-men who can take us nearer oblivion the slow progress from the rocking horse to the hearse. Perhaps not so slow since now that leaves are mildew and the after-noon air has been hung up to dry, short days crawl bedwards and street-lamps lift their faces sky-wards, to a moonless zone of which I cannot speak. Another winter is happen- ing... What then can I tell you? Death is not there in the Painting by Oscar Jaramillo, Colombia, Museo La Tertulia, Cali, Colombia. sad afternoon, among the railings; it is not at another place standing and waving patterns of light and darkness. It is in the warm scent of the rose, the shout of boys in the snow over the silence of damp, in the toss of hair-curl as a woman moves from charity to slumberless vanity, from grace to glory. No sermon this but instead a narrative of the wreath's a urgent need to the devotion of living. We will bury our dead when all living things have passed away from us. But only then. Only a second ago the children and the priest had laughed in the garden, and now in the latrine there is the crying of old men, spermless but speechful, knowing that they had done their own undoing and that the death that faced them was the death of glands, organs, speech and minor defects of the brain . . No doubt therefore it was all very sudden and perhaps it was the suddeness more then the error which surprised us. Ordering was easy. We had, of course made wills and testaments, consulted oracles and been discouraged, given discourses, sometimes learned, on the need for arriving. We who had never sired anyone, were never sure of anywhere, knew we had to go and hoped to arrive in good shape, sitting preferably in a first class compartment, with the weather fine. Last year this time I was in another place and I had thought that the days would never criss-cross. But they did and now this. What have we? (The girl yawned and wondered if the priest trusted her. In fact she did not care whether he arrived or not. They kept on talking and never got there. Sin and forget, they both thought, in silence. It was a false silence). True enough we were not warned of the demolition. Even the priest who crashed, helmet and catechism in the dust, seemed unaware. Perhaps the poets knew or the girls near the well. One day we left home and came back to find unfamiliar spaces between the furniture. The room had turned completely round. When we spoke up, even air was no longer tidy, but there was of course still us people called us by names we remembered and so we continued with the Page 28- C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 By Jim Amaral, Museo La Tertulia, Call, Colombia. association we had with our members, forgetting for a while that we had become slightly hostile neighbours to ourselves. Even our vacancy was absent and the paradise-birds sung no more in tamarind trees. Our silences had gone. Within this nightmare from which we did not wake, we waited. Some, pagan-like, for the worship of our true idols, others for the false gods of our cunning. No mind to watch with, no light in the bell-tower nor life in the belly. We waited. Nuns were lured into gardens of scent and shown pineapples which they bought. At some stage we must have realized in the dream that truth could never decide for us. Either we accomplish it or we dole it out to pawnbrokers ... My duty, my humility, my service, I thought. In times that were "historical," when we stood on the loneliest fringe of the world, looking over the abyss for company, we realized that since things were happening and we had scientifically controlled excessive growth of thorns and briar-patches, we must be ready for the ritual sacrifice of sheep. Instead we build a fountain, adorned it with memorands, cycle styled copies of minutes that had passed into hours and the phallic symbol which we could no longer remember. "In the very kingdom of Heaven, there is a bath and all who enter therein wash pride and lust away. Verily I say this to you. Simeon forgot his headphones," the priest used to say. Therefore those who went out late serenading love found false gods mouthing their anger. We kept feeling and ought not to have continued to feel. There could be no crime, for were not things happening! But the re-enactment of disaster, unfettered to the manacles of fertile re-growth, had meant that to save a state in which God had died, we had to destroy all apologists, versifiers, lame men, weak dogs, parasites, saints, farmers, betrayers, strange faces, in fact all protagonists of a repentances we did not want. So we unknowingly suffered, fully believing that a sinless season was impossible. As we moved or seemed to keep standing, the temples fell. I will say this they toppled with grace, full of dignity. Theirs was not the holligan collapse of zinc on concrete but the then tender surrender of flower on earth, the drizzle of pollen sprinkled on majestic grass sod. Of course there were protests, exiles prowled in every direction and genius was extinguished by cleverdicks. No one could give answers to questions you did not ask. Of course the students and others who could not understand were sorry, but so were the tsetse flies. "A world manna is bad, but that with scapegoats is even better," the priest said before he died. Then we came to yesterday and the defeat. It is easy to understand, for living had become an endeavour of the impossible and men receded to narcissism. No more marriages took place and after a time we did not even consent to breathing. Contraceptives and airfresheners were necessary. Genesis had ended. You have to know that for us life was a mistake and the cruel definition of it was that sorrow employed life as a joy-boy. We surrendered to the robbery and the fiction. We mated with our own kind. Rubbing and friction were easier than the burial of the male organ in the female's and the joyful clutch of ovaries. We had to die not fully knowing why, except that we had removed the causes of our being. We had become mere appendages, a curious anachronism in an age of mechanical order. The paradox was complete when the machines moved us, but left the parking-meters. We genuflected the soap-suds over our stainless steel sinks and the condensed world in the television box. Now again there is singing. Someone in the silence has come in and gone out; one with visions. My new condition is like a river during the dry-season, wet without water. There is no need for me to pretend any longer for I know my own needs and failings. I am like a wearer: I wish to love all my neighbour, the cock next door, all laymen, the boy fron the bakery, the impatient man rattling typewriter keys late at night and butterflies. This, indeed, is the will of all that I was denied in flesh. I need no disaster now. The priest's death was mine. The headphones are on again and I am in tune with an eternal murmur of flies on a drowsy afternoon. I have achieved wealth, conquered passions, liquidated designs, circumvented disappointment, towered over terror. In this new conscience I can equate this with that and, having clearly heard the Soundings of the eternal mammoth, can give voice to the society of the sun that sings silence for the kings coming. And so I send you my breathing and my memories, the mistakes of a hundred lives and the necessity for turning back. Behind the garage wall the owts howt in their sleep and talkative sheep mutter the language of grass-shoots. There need be no exposure, no expulsion. Only survive. Flesh is the will of the someone who moves lightly in and out with grace, singing with the true silence. I remain... C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 29 ANOTHER LIFE By John J. Figueroa West India Committee. ANOTHER LIFE. Derek Walcott. 154 pp. Farrar, Strauss, and Giroux. 1973. Derek Walcott started work on his remarkable autobiographical poem, Another Life, in April 1965 and finished it in April 1972 when he was 42. The book, although re- ceiving critical praise in many places, has not created the stir which it should have, and even recently no copy of it was available in St. Lucia, the author's home island, and scene of much of the human environment in which the book has its very human and moving being. The book is now available in the Cape Poetry Paperbacks series (Konathan Cape, London, 1973) in parts of the West Indies, at $(TandT)7:50. This should ensure for it a wider reading public, and even the possibility of use in Colleges and Schools. The book is a must for all those interested in poetry, in the West Indies, in Walcott and in what it can mean to grow up at an apparent distance from the so called 'metropolitan' centres. The poem starts with The Divided Child; the persona in the poem is looking back from the 'middle of another life' to his early situation in that very special place St Lucia special in ita physical environment, in its mixed Page 30-C.R.-Vol. VII No. 1 history (fourteen times did it pass between French and English rule), in its crop of very special people: Begin with twilight, when a glare which held a cry of bugles lowered the coconut lances of the inlet, as a sun, tired of empire, declined. ............. There was your heaven! The clear glaze of another life, a landscape locked in amber, the rare gleam. The dream of reason had produced its monster: a prodigy of the wrong age and colour. Here already we have some of the central elements of the poem: dream, reason, monster, a prodigy - but of the wrong age and colour. The child is divided, and is going to be very unhappy. He needs 'the rightness of placed things'; this he will find mainly in art, but the process has already started in the presence of his dead father, in his remarkable, and very alive, mother. It will be continued by the fellowship, and educating presence, of two painters, and of constant work with them. It is remarkable, in fact, the effect which Art and artists are shown to have on the central persona of this poem. Harry, the incomparable master, not only shows the way as a working and correcting older companion, but also introduces the author to the work of George Campbell, and to those remark- able lines of his: Holy be the white head of a Negro sacred be the black flax of a black child Holy be the golden down that will strem in the waves ot the winds ... These lines will be echoed by Walcott at the very end of his poem, but by then he will have achieved more than a hymn to the solidarity of man in all his ethnic and mixed experiences in the Caribbean: holy is Rampanalgas and its high-circling hawks, holy are the rusted, tortured, rust-caked, blind almond trees, your great-grandfather's, and your father's torturing limbs, holy the small, almond-leaf-shadowed bridge by the small red shop, where everything smells of salt, and holiest the break of the blue sea below the trees, and the rock that takes blows on its back and is more than rock, and the tireless hoarse anger of the waters DereK Walcott by which I can walk calm, a renewed, exhausted man balanced at its edge by the weight of two dear daughters. Before getting to that penultimate declaration of what is holy, the central persona has had to suffer much, and to perform a rite of exorcism, as well as to know and understand the alphabet of his surroundings. He has known a great first love, has'had a serpent for companion', was 'a heart full of knives'. Another Life demands, and deserves, both extensive and inten- sive reading: its over all structure is meaningful and carefully put together, its language imagistic, rythmic, often lyrical in intensity. A short review, alas, can but give some indications, and state some opinions! The poem is 152 pages long, and has the following main sec- tions: 1) The divided child 2) Homage to Gregorias 3) A Simple Flame 4) The Estranging Sea Each section is divided into chapters, and subsections. Some material used by Walcott in other places is reworked some times slightly and reappears in this poem. On of the more remarkable things about Another Life is the appearance of, in the broadest sense, a religious element and theme. The author's nurture has come mainly from art and men of art; from art and death and love; from his openess and ability to see a meaning, but also from some- thing else, from his ability to understand in another way: I leapt for the pride of that race at Sauteurs! An urge more than mine, so, see them as heroes or as the Gadarene swine, let it be written, I shared, I shared, I was struck like rock, and I opened to His gift! And: O sun, on that morning, did I not mutter towards your holy, repetitive resurrection, "Hare, hare, Krishna," and then, politely, "Thank you, life"? Not to enter the knowledge of God but to know that His name had lain too familiar on my tongue, as this one would say "bread," or "sun," or "wine," I staggered, shaken at my remorse, as one would say "bride" or "bread," or "sun" or "wine" to believe - and that you would rise again, when I am not here, to catch the air afire, that you need not look for me, or need this prayer. It must be made clear, however, that his is a long, complicated (and enjoyable and rewarding) poem, and that it is impossible to summarise it, or to encompass it within any one theme, religious or otherwise. Nothing has been said so far, for instance, about his return to, and development of, an old theme of Walcott's: Nothing. Which we meet in his earlier poetry, especially in Nearing La Guaira, and in Tales of the Islands. As I have written elsewhere, "Walcott's way, his allusiveness, his richly-textured verse in imagery as well as music is a very special thing, and cannot be the way for all in the West Indies. He had a kind of education which included the best and the worst of the old tradition (Horace and the "naming of the Harbours of the John J. Figueroa Evans Brothers Evans Brothers World"). ... He came from a very special home; he must be one of the few well-known writers who has a twin brother (himself a playwright of no mean merit). But what Walcott's work does illus- trate, for the Caribbean and the world to see, is that remarkable persistence, energy, concentration, tact, by which a variety of backgrounds and confusions and losses and gains, can be made to grow into something beautiful and remarkable .." Anna, I wanted to grow white-haired as the wave, with a wrinkled brown rock's face, salted, seamed, and old poet, facing the wind and, nothing, which is, the loud world in his mind. And addressing his master and friend who died by his own hand, Forgive me, if this sketch should ever thrive, or profit from your gentle, generous spirit. When I began this work, you were alive, and with one stroke, you have completed it! O simultaneous stroke of chord and light, O tightened serves to which the soul vibrates, some flash of lime-green water, edged with white - "I have swallowed all my hates." * C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 31 NAIPAULIANA By John Thieme Penguin Books V.S. Naipaul V.S. NAIPAUL: AN INTRODUC- TION TO HIS WORK. Paul Theroux. Homes & Meier, 1972. $7.95. THE OVERCROWDED BAR- RACOON AND OTHER AR- TICLES. V.S. Naipaul. 286 pp. Andre Deutsch, 1972. $7.00. V.S. Naipaul's reputation con- tinues to grow and both Paul Theroux's critical study V.S. Naipaul: An Introduction To His Work and Naipaul's own The Overcrowded Barracoon And Other Stories, a collection of fourteen years of his journalistic articles, serve to illustrate the versatility of his talents. Naipaul's journalism, however, does this much more effectively than Mr. Theroux's eulogistic study. A few sentences of his own writing give one a clearer idea of where his genius lies than all his critic's vapid encomiums. From his first page, where he makes the claim, "Wholly original, he may be the only writer today in whom there are no echoes of influences," Mr. Theroux astounds the reader with sweeping com- ments in this vein of loose generality. The fact that in this case he clearly doesn't intend to be taken too literally he sub- sequently mentions that Naipaul echoes Conrad in a passage in The Mimic Men and has been in- fluenced by Dickens in A House for Mr. Biswas compounds rather than excuses the error. Later on there are other similar- ly broad value judgements: we are told that Naipaul's characters are Page 32 C.R.-Vol. VII No. 1 "incomparable," but we aren't told why; and Naipaul's 1964 comment that his first three books were "an apprenticeship . and then I was ready to write Mr. Biswas" is quoted without any accompanying comment to in- dicate what makes Mr. Biswas a more mature novel than its predecessors. For the most part, though, Mr. Theroux prefers to avoid even the unsubstantiated value judgement in favour of an approach which traces thematic parallels in Naipaul's work. Un- fortunately, he doesn't succeed any better at this. His first three chapters, res- pectively entitled 'Creators,' 'Fantasists' and 'Householders,' which employ this method, offer little help to the reader coming to Naipaul for the first time and the book is, after all, commended to us as an "introduction." Granted that Mr. Theroux is within his rights to reject a strictly chronological approach surely the most straightforward way of presenting this kind of introduc- tion his technique of cross- referencing remains unsatisfac- tory, for his chosen themes avoid all that is most vital in Naipaul's work. How far does it get us, for instance, to view Naipaul's heroes as 'Creators' when Ganesh Ram- sumair, the con-man anti-hero of The Mystic Masseur, is bracketed together with Mohun Biswas, Ralph Singh and, by implication, Naipaul himself? To say, as Paul Theroux does, that "Ganesh is his own man always," to take Ganesh's "mystical power as a pundit" at its face value, to speak of Ganesh's being "fascinated by typefaces" as a pleasure "any writer" feels each of these things is totally to obscure the point of Naipaul's ironic fable of success. Ganesh, a veritable Anancy personified, rises above his fellow-Trinidadians simply be- cause he is a more adept charlatan than any of the small-time swindlers who inhabit the fictional world of the novel. Attempting to establish his thematic links, Mr. Theroux finds himself caught in the glibly universal. It's a serious failing, for, not only does it prevent him from discussing the novelist's ability to realise his ideas in terms of particular time and place, the essence of the art of a novelist like Naipaul, it also leads to his neglecting Naipaul's own espe- cially meticulous rendition of detail, arguably his greatest gift as a writer. Thus when Mr. Theroux mentions that Mr. Biswas's favourite title for his unfinished short stories is 'Escape,' he is implying that this is evidence of the creative faculty at work in Mr. Biswas. True, but since he never makes it clear that Mr. Biswas wants to escape from Trinidad, the reader is left in a limbo. One needs to proceed to the general through the particular and this, alas, Mr. Theroux never succeeds in doing. Doubtless Naipaul, him- self a master of concrete materiality, would relish the irony of the first critical study of his work being so oddly at variance with the tenor of his own writing. Mr. Theroux's chapter on Naipaul's two travel books is a little better. Here assessment is at least attempted and cogent reasons are given for preferring An Area of Darkness to The Middle Passage. But once again the chapter flops. It contains so many obvious inaccuracies that one's confidence in Mr. Theroux's evaluation is completely under- mined. Of The Middle Passage he writes: "The book is certainly lop-sided. There is so much Trinidad and comparatively little of the other places" and yet only a fifth of the book deals with Trinidad and the section 'British Guiana' is approaching twice this length! Similarly Mr. Theroux tells us that while Naipaul was in India collecting material for An Area of Darkness he wrote only one article yet his own bibli- ography lists two! and goes on to state that this article, 'Jamshed into Jimmy' was "not incorpo- rated into the text of An Area of Darkness. The statement need not be made; it has no critical relevance. But for some unknown reason Mr. Theroux has to put it in, even though it's so obviously wrong: one finds 'Jamshed into Jimmy' incorporated, albeit with minor alterations, into the second chapter of An Area of Darkness. Such obvious factual errors are but the tip of the iceberg. Below lies a mass of inexactitudes, like the superficially plausible com- ment that "In The Middle Passage Naipaul meets people; in An Area of Darkness he makes friends. Friendships were possible in India." The very next remark tells us that in India "Naipaul became a resident and involved himself for some months in day-to-day living in Srinigar, in Kashmir." Yet it doesn't seem to occur to Mr. Theroux that perhaps there is a connection to be made here. Naipaul makes friends in India because he stays in Srinigar; he only visits the Caribbean. Another failure of this chapter on the travel books is that there is too much naked exposition of their content and the following chapter on Naipaul's history, The Loss of El Dorado, is even more seriously marred by this absence of analysis. In a Free State, which is given a chapter to itself, is rather better dealt with than Naipaul's earlier fiction. Mr. Theroux begins this chapter by discussing the theme of rebellion in Naipaul's work, a rather more profitable line of study than the themes examined in the opening chapters, but then degenerates into critical gener- alities once again as he says that "In a Free State is the first book of Naipaul's in which a fear of death and a pre-occupation with failure are considered as being final." Surely it's the other way round: this is the first book in which they quite categorically aren't final.Paul Theroux himself hints at as much when he speaks of Naipaul's own "saving gesture" in the Epilogue, a moment which seems to have been conceived as the climactic experience of this complex study of personal free- dom. Perhaps Mr. Theroux's C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 33 misreading originates from his failure to relate the various sec- tions of the work together so as to establish the pattern which would have enabled him to see the gesture as climactic. Finally, we're given 'A Note on Naipaul's Style.' One hopes against hope that here some of the earlier defects of the study may be remedied, but a 'Note' it is called and a note it proves to be and a disappointing note at that! The first half of it deals not with Naipaul's style, but with his attitude to literature; the second half illustrates the variety of his sentence patterns and refers briefly to his ability to compress and to his humour. No mention is made of his irony! True to pattern, the bibli- ography serves only to hint at what could have been done. At a quick glance it appears to provide a useful list of Naipaul's articles and reviews, but why, when he has told us that between April 1959 and April 1960 Naipaul "reviewed sixty-one novels for the New Statesman alone," does Mr. Theroux limit his list of articles to 50 items, including all 22 of those now readily available in The Overcrowded Barracoon? More- over, no critical articles on Naipaul are mentioned. So much more could have been done. And this has to be one's final comment on Mr. Theroux's book as a whole. He has not come to terms with all that strikes us as most significant in Naipaul's work: his paradoxical East Indian West Indianness; his interest in colonialism and placelessness; the spare lucidity of his narrative method; his ironic style and view of the world. The way remains clear for further studies. To turn from Paul Theroux's study to The Overcrowded Bar- racoon is to be reminded what a fine writer Naipaul is. Though this collection of articles spans fourteen years and four con- tinents, no matter what Naipaul touches there is the same quietly confident prose style, the same informative accretion of detail, .the same flawless irony. In a 1965 article on "Indian Autobiographies' Naipaul laments the failure of the Indian writer overseas Chaudhuri apart to provide authentic witness of what he sees: "people are their desig- nations and functions, and places little more than names." He complains that Gandhi converts London as he first knew it "into a series of small spiritual ex- periences, the vows of vege- tarianism and chastity being more important than the city of the 1890s." Later, in a 1967 article, 'Columbus and Crusoe,' Naipaul levels a similar criticism against Columbus' Book of the First Voyage (he reiterates the same point in The Loss of El Dorado). Columbus does give some "con- crete details" of his first ex- perience of the New World, but these, Naipaul argues, are no more than "the props of a banal poetry ... used again and again until they are without meaning. They are at an even lower level than the recent astronaut's 'Wow' there is nothing like this pure cry of delight in Columbus." In both cases our disappointment is compounded by the feeling that so much more was possible. Gandhi fails to describe the sense of "unsettlement" which Naipaul expects an Indian plunged into an alien culture to feel; Columbus "was looking less for America or Asia than for gold; and the banality of expectation matches a continuing banality of percep- tion." Both are inadequate chroniclers, because they are in- sensitive to the imaginative pos- sibilities of the places they "dis- cover." This is not only interesting criticism: it is revealing where Naipaul's own work is concerned. It is his ability always to offer sensitive witness which makes him an unfailingly good journalist and an even better travel journalist. His own sense of placelessmess, most fully embodied in In a Free State makes him a particularly acute commentator on place. It is as if, feeling he belongs nowhere, he has developed a chameleon-like ability to be at home writing about anywhere. His pieces on India, Belize, St. Kitts, Anguilla and Mauritius bring these places alive as the usual travelogues simply do not. Naipaul is never afraid to trust his keen eyes and ears and his flair for selecting the significant detail and as a result he succeeds where Gandhi and Columbus fail. In the title-piece, 'The Over- crowded Barracoon,' a 1972 article on the island of Mauritius, Naipaul is both informative and analytical, but it is his rendition of character and scene which gets under the skin of what it is like to live in Mauritius. After recording the complaints of a group of Mauritius' many unemployed, Naipaul says of them: "But that fat, open-mouthed, jolly boy, who is 'on relief,' has just got married and is clearly the clown of the group. That hand- some, stylishly dressed boy comes from a polygamous Muslim bunch of seventeen. And that sullen man of thirty-five, with the pot-belly, has had six children in the six years he has been on relief." Such perfectly chosen detail is worth more than any details or statistics of unemployment or the population explosion. The over- population and underemployment of the "overcrowded barracoon" have been humanised. Paul Theroux tells us that Naipaul "is a writer who doesn't have what is called a journalistic style." Well, of course, it all depends on who is doing the "calling." Naipaul's style lacks the directness and speed of much everyday journalism, but if one is prepared to accept that the best journalism is a condensed blend of fact and opinion which avoids the extremes of pure literality and tendentiousness, then a strong case can be made for Naipaul the journalist. His success lies in the subtlety and economy with which, through apparently neutral state- ment, he is able to transmit an attitude. Thus, "It was on Mauritius that the dodo forgot Page 34-C.R.-Vof. VII No. 1 how to fly, because it had no enemies," or, describing the Em- peror Haile Selassie's visit to Jamaica: "The Ras Tafarians were expecting a black lion of a man; they saw someone like a Hindu, mild-featured, brown and small. The disappointment was great; but somehow the sect survives." To say that this is not journalistic is to say that journalism is not an art. Often Naipaul is doing the same kind of thing at greater length. The whole of his article on the 1970 Trinidad Black Power riots, from which the above remark comes, is informed by the same impish irony, which, in passages like the following, enables him to be severely neutral and slily critical at one and the same time: "In the islands the intellectual equivocations of black power are part of its strength... Anything more concrete, anything like a programme, might become simple local politics and be reduced to the black power that is already possessed." Mr. Theroux reinforces his contention that Naipaul lacks the journalistic style by saying that his 1971 article, 'The Election in Ajmer' is a "little novel." This takes us to the crux of the matter. Naipaul's account of the mixed-up political loyalties of Ajmer does have a novelistic flavour at times it positively seems to echo The Suffrage of Elvira, which satirises Trinidad's second general election under universal manhood suffrage. But the journalistic and the novelistic are not mutually exclusive. 'The Election in Ajmer' is a journalistic success, not only be- cause it is first-rate "witness' and because of the adeptness with which Naipaul imposes his ironic vision on an apparently deadpan account of incestuous local poli- tics, but also because the story he tells is a perfect microcosm of the wider political situation: the main contestants for the Ajmer seat are an uncle and nephew, who stand respectively for the old Congress and the new Indira Congress and thus, Naipaul says, provide "a local reflection of the national quarrel about legitimacy." His treatment of such a theme predict- ably reads like fiction, but surely this in no way invalidates its quality as journalism. The articles in The Over- crowded Barracoon are collected under four headings: 'An Unlikely Colonial;' 'India;' 'Looking West- ward;' and 'Columbus and Crusoe.' Though Naipaul's style is unerring whatever he touches, the Third World pieces on India, the Caribbean and Mauritius stand out. The best of the Indian pieces describes his 'Second Visit' to India in 1967. It reads like an appendix to An Area of Darkness and comments like: "The aburdity of India can be total. It appears to ridicule analysis. It takes the onlooker beyond anger and des- pair to neutrality" are hardly likely to increase his popularity on the sub-continent. For all this he is as incisive as ever. Describing the Indian need for ritual and magic, he gives his penchant for comic bathos full play in relating an anecdote about an Indian holy man who claims he can walk on water, but on the day appointed for him to demonstrate his miraculous power duly sinks. For Naipaul this is only superficially comic; in social terms it is both typical and tragic. The Indian needs magic, but magic is denied. And Naipaul goes beyond this to give his own opinion: the need for ritual and magic is a sickness, because it obscures the "necessary theme" of causation. Again, making much the same point, Naipaul ironically approves the western beatniks' recognition that India is their territory like Indians they deify mysterious- ness! but says that as the West turns Eastwards "it is like a cruel revenge joke played by the rich, many-featured West on the poor East that possesses only mystery." Hyperbole though this may be, it is still illuminating and it carries conviction precisely because it is the product of the sensibility of a man like Naipaul, whose am- bivalent "Indianness" enables him to achieve just the right mixture of irony and sympathy. His Caribbean articles reiterate his "mimic men" view of the West Indian situation and his 1970 reference to the region as the "Third World's third world" is as little likely to please West Indian chauvinists as 'A Second Visit' is to please their Indian counter- parts. Yet, while it is true that Naipaul lacks the vision to see that with political independence new identities have become more than a pipe-dream for many West Indians, how good he is when he writes of the colonial past, as in 'The Ultimate Colony,' his 1969 article on Belize, and when he brings faraway places before our eyes through meticulous observa- tion. Naipaul has been disparagingly referred to as a "black English- man." Yet how many other contemporary writers have the historical sense and social vision to bring the Third World experience to the printed page with such perceptiveness? To these two qualities, Naipaul has over the past couple of years the process can be seen in the title-article of The Overcrowded Barracoon - acquired the one virtue his detrac- tors claim he has always lacked, compassion for the wretched of the earth. * CArPBBCAN rCVieW is Available in MICROFORM fnmn... Xerox University Microfilms 300 North Zeeb Road Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106 Xerox University Microfilms 35 Mobile Drive Toronto. Ontario. Canada M4A 1H6 University Microfilms Limited St. John's Road, Tyler's Green. Penn. Buckinghamshire, England PLEASE WRITE FOR COMPLETE INFORMATION .______________ __ C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 35 Drawing by Susan Alvarez Drawing by Susan Alvarez TOMORROW'S CHILD By Jose R. Garcia TOMORROW'S CHILD. IMAGI- NATION, CREATIVITY AND THE REBIRTH OF CULTURE, Rubem Alves. Harper and Row, 1972. Christianity came to Latin Ameri- ca with Columbus. Not so theolo- gy. In the four hundred and fifty years that have passed since Columbus discovered America, no Latin American voice has made a difference in the history of theolo- gy. It is only in this second half of the twentieth century that theolo- gical work of significance is being done in this part of the world. The Roman Catholics now have Gus- tavo Gutierrez, Juan Luis Segundo and Segundo Galilea. On the Protestant side there is Jose Miguez-Bonino, Julio de Santa Ana and Rubem Alves. Of late, outside of Latin America, the Brazilian Rubem Alves is perhaps the best known Latin American Protestant theologian. Denominational labels, how- ever, do not tell us much about the thought of Latin American Theologians. The primary concern of their work is not the theolo- gical issues that have traditionally divided Christianity along denomi- national lines. Rather, Latin American theologians are con- cerned that their thought serve to improve the life of the Latin American man. For this reason one finds them articulating the relevance of Christiantity to the psychological, sociological, eco- nomic and political realities of this part of the Third World. In the dissertation for his doctoral degree from Princeton Theological Seminary, A Theology of Human Hope, for example, Alves deals with such issues as the manipulation of man's ideals by the masters of technological society, the possibility of changing that society through human ac- tion, what God is doing to improve the situation, and how man is to respond to such action on the part of God. In Tomorrow's Child Alves is dealing with basically the same issues that he dealt with in A Theology of Human Hope. The difference between the two books consist only in the lengths to which Alves goes in explaining the concept of God's action in the world and the concept of imagina- tion. In A Theology of Human Hope Alves devoted scarcely three pages of the last chapter to explain the role of the imagination in man's life. The main portion of the book was an explanation of how God's action in the world is not limited to bringing about possibilities inherent in any given state of affairs but is to be conceived always as creation ex nihile. Such a conception of the action of God seems very much against the flow of scientific explanation which conceives every state of affairs to be caused by the states of affairs that preceded it. From the scientific standpoint, therefore, Alves' thought is un- scientific and may be said to be the product of his imagination. To this Alves replies that without the use of the imagination the work of the scientist would be impossible. Using the work of Thomas Kuhn, Alves argues that it is through the use of his imagination that the scientist is able to come up with the models that he uses to organize and explain the facts that Page 36 C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 he gathers in his experimental work. Tomorrow's Child is the reverse of this coin. Here it is not until the last chapter that faith in God comes into the picture whereas the main portion of the book deals with the imagination. For now, instead of limiting the role of the imagination to fashioning the models used by the scientist the way that Kuhn had done, Alves wants to expand the scope of the imagination to include the fashioning of society as a whole. A logical sketch of Alves' argument, as opposed to the organization that he gives to the book, would run as follows: Man has more than physical needs. Life, in order to be human, requires that not only its physical needs be met but also that the needs of the heart be met. This is made plain by the fact that men who enjoy health and wealth have dropped out, joined communes, become revolutionaries or hermits and have even committed suicide. What is missing in the lives of these men is the necessary coher- ence between the values that arise out of their imagination and the objective social conditions. The world in which they live does not express their values; rather it destroys them. Of course, they could always forsake their values: but, if they did so, they would be forsaking their humanity. For to be human is to be creative. When man looks at the world he sees not only what is there; imagination lets man see also what is missing that should be there and what is there that should not be. And according to that vision, man endeavours to change the world. The words 'change the world' are used advisedly. It is not his situation within the existing world that man is endeavouring to change. What man wants is not to join the Gomezes or to keep up with them. He refuses to play that game. For the rules of that game make it impossible for him to win. Instead man wants to play a completely different game. Im- agination then flies us to a place where the game of life is played according to different rules. This is the utopian intention of the imagination. Imagination has also a playful and a magical intention. Man has fun playing. Play suspends the rules of the game of reality and therefore lifts the pressures that make man serious and tense which result in ulcers and nervous breakdowns. Again, in play imag- ination creates an order which is not within the possibilities inher- ent in the present state of affairs. Having broken the absolute deter- minism of the cosmos, the order created in play is expressive of freedom. Based on this description of the role played in man's life by the imagination, Alves criticizes both the social order of the United States as well as that of the Soviet Union. The criticism, however, emphasizes more the negative aspects of the social order of the United States. It is the work of American futurologists that Alves criticises and it is from life in the United States that Alves draws most of the cases that he deals with. The charge brought forth by Alves against the existing social order is that it is irrational. Power, instead of being a means has become an end. Instead of being at the service of man's imagina- tion, power has become an oppres- sor. This is made plain by the fact that social institutions no longer pay attention to the 'why?' or 'what for? questions, the ques- tions regarding goals, but rather concern themselves only with the 'how?' question, the question of power and effectiveness. Thus the economy has to keep growing and bring all of the world's markets and resources under its control, the military has to get stronger than anyone else's so that its supremacy cannot be challenged, and science's curiosity is not to remain idle but provide industry and the military with the instru- ments of control. And it is both the objective and the subjective that the existing social order seeks to exhert its power upon; it is both imagination and action that must be con- trolled. For there are limits to what physical force can do. Violence brings resentment and hatred. But just as scientific research can, on the one hand, provide the police and the military with the means to control man's action, on the other hand, it can also provide industry with the means to control the imagination. This is accomplished by manufac- turing and selling so many new gadgets and diversions that imag- ination no longer has the power or the time to compete with what the system offers. By thus bring- ing under its control even the things that produce pleasure, the system succeeds in controlling the imagination. The system achieves total con- trol when it succeeds in controlling language. According to Alves, our perceptions, and therefore our thought and behaviour, are fixed by language. He who controls language, therefore controls what man thinks and does; he defines what is real and unreal, good or bad, possible and impossible, sane or insane. To avoid the second label in each of these four pairs means to think and behave the way the system wants. How is man to respond to this state of affairs? According to Alves the only alternative is to destroy the existing society by force and create one following his imagina- tion. The revolution will not come through a change in consciousness. It will come through the exercise of power. The revolutionary - turned hippie does not realize that he is engaged in masturbation and not in procreation. He who has abandoned the demonstration and the protest march, forsaken the cold logic of political analysis and no longer shouts in anger but has instead joined a comune and exchanged his rifle for a guitar in order to sing love songs, dance, play, celebrate and be joyful following the directive of his imagination, does not fertilize the C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 37 '-'- I % U' I- -- ^ By Juan Antonio Roda, DELIRIO DE LA MONJA MUERTA, Museo De La Tertulia, Call, Colombia earth but leaves everything as it is. He has become drunk with the aperitif and is no longer fit to go on with the main course. But how can the revolution come through the exercise of power if the system makes it impossible by having all the power? How can one hope if the hoped for cannot be realized? Hope cannot be abandoned. With- out hope man sinks to an inhuman level. Furthermore hope is the presentment, that imagination is more real and reality less real than it seems; it is the hunch that the way things are is not the last word and the suspicion that there is more to reality than meets the eye. For Alves this is what faith in God is all about. For him belief in God is not the belief that there is a being somewhere in the universe or outside of it. To believe in God is to believe that contrary to a realistic assessment of the situa- tion, the unexpected will happen and change the possibilities of human life and fulfillment. Such creative events have taken place in the past. Ours may not be the time when the creative event is taking place, but ours is the time when we may fertilize the earth with hope. The creative event is the result of grace. When it comes about the only thing that one can do is to join it. The perceptive reader will notice a serious lack of consisten- cy in Alves' book. Take for example the relation between man's actions and the building of the future according to the guide- lines of the imagination: Alves tells us that if this is not the time where the creative event comes into fruition, it may well be the time for man to plant the seed; in the next page we are told that the creative event will not come through the work of man and that the only thing he can do is to join it. This type of inconsistency is very common among Protestant preachers. They will tell their parishoners that salvation is not the result of human works but of faith alone and that therefore all they have to do is to believe. Another inconsistency in Alves is that he manages to be a determinist and an indeterminist at the same time. This is an inconsistency that abounds among social scientists. In the case of Alves it comes about when he tells us that existing society has been successful in controlling the imagination while telling us that man's imagination is free. To be free is to be one's own law. Therefore, to the extent that imagination complies with de- mands made by something foreign to it, it does so only by making these demands its own law. On the other hand, if imagination is subject to control by the outside, if it is determined by the outside, then, whether it be in the existing society or in any other, it will always remain determined just like the movement of billiard balls is always determined whether it be your cue or mine that hits them. As far as I am concerned, I am convinced that man's imagination is free. Alves' work itself confirms this conviction of mine. If society is able to control the imagination of its members how is it a fact (acknowledged by Alves) that the revolutionary-turned-hippie can imagine the new society into which the existing one will be turned by a revolution of cons- ciousness? Indeed how has Alves himself been able to use his imagination in writing his book? But this is not all. While one may believe that the imagination is free, one need not believe that the body is likewise free. This is reflected in such sayings as 'you may imprison my body but not my mind.' Thus Alves' claim that existing society denies objective' freedom, the freedom of the Page 38- C.R.-Vol. VII No. 1 body, must be considered sepa- rately from his claim, just refuted, that the existing society denies freedom to the imagination. Again, it is from facts acknow- ledged by Alves himself which are inconsistent with his claim that we get evidence to refute him. For how can it be a fact that the hippie is able to live his non- productive life according to his own imagination in the comune if the system is successful in repress- ing all kinds of non-productive behaviour or any behaviour that does not enlarge the society's power? In spite of all this, Tomorrow's Child is saved because in it Alves raises a question of crucial im- portance for any society, especial- ly for societies like those in the Caribbean. The question of whether and how the goals pursued by society are to be evaluated must be given serious consideration by all countries, especially by countries, like those in the Caribbean, who have yet to settle on the goals that they are to pursue, who have yet to establish mechanisms whereby these goals may be attained and who have yet to establish a tradition of deci- sion-making in those matters that affect society as a whole. And yet I am not convinced that Alves' nta SAME DAY DELIVERY NEW YORK TIMES WALL STREET JOURNAL CAriBBAN REVIEW BOOKS HARD & PAPERBACK MAGAZINES NATIONAL & INTL. ALL INQUIRIES WELCOME CALL 223-4579 NEWS TRANSIT AUTHORITY P.O. Box 650187 MIAMI, FLORIDA 33165 Please send complete information NAMEF ADDRESS CITY_ Z TATE______ ZIP______ attempt to answer the question sheds more light than heat. Of course, my rejection of Alves on the grounds that he has failed to persuade me may be unwarranted. I may be rejecting Alves for failing to accomplish what he could not attempt to do and still be consistent with him- self. For Alves' answer to the question 'How is one to evaluate the goals of society? is that one evaluates the goals of society in terms of their coherence with the aspirations of the imagination. That answer denies the possibility that one can persuade another should the two persons' respective imaginations provide different aspirations. For example, ask yourself the question 'On what grounds can I condemn conspicuous consump- tion (i.e., the wasteful use of the world's limited resources on use- less gadgets such as electric backscratchers)? Surely cons- picious consumption cannot be condemned on the grounds that it is evil according to the guidelines of your imagination; for just as your imagination tells you that conspicuous consumption is evil, the imagination or he who con- sumes conspicuously tells him just the opposite. To settle that disagreement between those two different sets of guidelines both offered by the imagination, one has to go beyond the imagination. Traditionally, that beyond the imagination to which thinkers have appealed to settle their differences has been the facts, the data accessible to the experience of everyone. This accounts for the thinkers' concern to describe that data accurately. The data' is like a lock which is ready to reject any key that does not fit regardless of who may have fashioned it. As such it may be relied on as the grounds for persuasion. Alves, on the other hand, refuses to fall back on the data to settle his arguments with someone else. For him man is a creative being who shapes the data accord- ing to the guidelines of the imagination. The problem with this, however, is that the imagina- tion is notoriously idiosyncratic. As my grandmother was fond of saying and as the example given shows, "Every head is its own world." The imagination, then, cannot serve as the criterion in terms of which disagreements can ultimately be settled. Consequent- ly, if one insists in changing the world according to his imagina- tion, as Alves believes man must - because of the kind of being he believes man to be, one cannot but attempt to impose one's way on others by the exercise of power. This choice, however, lands Alves in an inconsistency of such magnitude that it is in a class with the category of the sublime in aesthetics. This consists in advo- cating freedom while being com- mitted to settling every argument by the exercise of power. It is a case much too similar to that of the officer of the U.S. Army who described one of his exploits in Viet-Nam with such words as "We had to destroy the village in order to save it." * A monthly publication for those seriously in love with the Caribbean and Bahamas. 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A GREAT NAME IN ELECTRONICS fvA GREAT NAME IN ELECTRONICS THE "M" FACTOR OF TOURISM By Ramesh Ramsaran TOURISM AND DEVELOP- MENT, A CASE STUDY OF THE COMMONWEALTH CARIB- BEAN. John M. Bryden. 236 pp. Cambridge at the University Press, 1973. In the past five to ten years Commonwealth Caribbean coun- tries have been inundated by a series of studies on tourism sponsored directly by govern- ments of the region, or in collaboration with external of- ficial and semi-official agencies. Most of these studies however have tended to be of a very limited scope, attention being focused mainly on the multiplier effects of the industry and their impact on certain key economic variables. Costs arising from the particular trend tourism has taken in the Caribbean have been largely ignored or overshadowed by the glowing picture painted of the tremendous benefits being derived or derivable from the existence and growth of this industry. Even within this limited objective ana- lytical rigour has not been a particularly distinguishing feature of these reports many of which were intended as blue prints on which the governments of the From ANOTHER PLACE, Scrimshaw Press. region could plan the future of the industry. Bryden's work which is the first articulate study on Caribbean tourism to be undertaken by an academic is much more encom- passing and thought provoking than previous studies on the subject. In both technique and scope he carries the analysis to a more sophisticated level using a cost-benefit approach within specified models to derive many of his conclusions. The study however does not quite cover the area he claims it does. Bryden is concerned mainly with a par- ticular type of cost, viz, that germane to a condition of mis- directed or under-utilized re- sources. The concept of social cost though often used in a limited sense in economic analysis is much more encompassing than this, and includes condiserations which do not lend themselves easily to quantification; so that although he claims as his objectives the examination of the "social aspects of tourism" and the consideration of "the dynamic impact of the tourist sector" these exercises have in fact been carried out in a very partial and circumscribed way. The approach is essentially economic with a quantitative bias. For the sociologist or psychologist the book will be of little value. This is not to imply that the study has no practical worth. Indeed some of the conclusions that emanate from the analysis should prove of tremendous inter- est to policy makers whose vision is too often limited to the immediate calculable benefits of tourist activities. The aura of salvation which the industry has acquired in recent years, however, coupled with the intense competi- tion prevailing among the islands is not likely to make a rational approach to the subject a particu- larly easy matter. The apparent lack of concern with the wider implications of unplanned tourism tends to stem from two basic sets of conditions which have grown increasingly stronger in the last five to ten years. One has its roots in the high economic benefits-low cost per- ception which surrounds the in- dustry. The ethic implied here is that plenty is being got for very little in the way of expenditure and efforts. The other is the importance acquired by tourism in relation to the traditional exports of the region which have been C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 41 - i t facing serious marketing and production difficulties in recent years. A related concern is the growing pool of unemployed human resources to which the governments of the region seem to have no answer. The critical nature of the problems implied in the last two factors coupled with the attitude described in the first has produced an atmosphere in which tourism is welcome in any dose and in any form in the hope that some of the pressures will be removed, or least be mitigated. Logic it seems has lost its head in the mad scramble for 'tourist dollars.' Some of the islands have even permitted and continue to encourage the wholesale alienation of land in the belief that this will result in an increase in the inflow of foreign currency which has slowed considerably as a result of the sluggish growth of visible exports. Where commodity ex- ports are non-existent, the situa- tion is even more appalling. A controversial question on which Bryden's analysis throws some interesting light is the value of the multiplier on which there has been a great deal of debate particularly after the publication of the Zinder Report. In trying to assess the benefits from tourism the question is an important one in the Caribbean where foreign ownership dominates the industry and where an extremely large proportion of total supplies originate abroad. These facts have prompted several formulations of the 'm' which as the key concept in income determination analysis occupies a prominent place in all Page 42 C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 UJ. -u - the scope of planning efforts. We know from the existing organiza- tion of the industry and the structure of West Indian econo- mies that the actual value of the multiplier is way below its poten- tial value. The resource allocation problems created by the 'ad-hoc' and un-planned growth of tourism in the region however is yet to be fully appreciated. Bryden's work is an important contribution in this regard. By using the cost- benefit approach he not only throws new light on some old problems but demonstrates very emphatically the need "for con- trolling the growth rate of the tourist industry much more rigidly than has hitherto been the practice of Caribbean govern- ments." As he rightly points out the case traditionally made out against tourism rests largely on its non- pecuniary or 'transcendental' impact on society." Part of his S... , From TWO BRAZILIAN CAPITALS the professional studies that have been done on tourism in the region. Based on differing assump- tions and procedures the mag- nitude of 'm' ranges all the way between 0.873 and 2.3. Using data relating to Antigua, Bryden comes up with an estimate of 0.88 which he regards as something of a maximum. By throwing domestic agriculture into the import sector within his matrix (a reasonable move in the Caribbean context) he reduces 'm' to 0.81. Adjusting for under-utilization of capacity in hotels he further reduces the figure to 0.77. For Dominica and the Cayman Islands he comes up with multipliers of 1.195 and 0.65 respectively. In each case 'm' varies with the degree of 'open- ness.' Regardless of the accuracy of these figures, what his analysis does bring out is the danger of generalising even in the Caribbean where the economies appear to be very similar in many respects. It is not our intention here to discuss the economic implications of his results, or his data base or even his methodology which at times seem questionable. In view, however, of the differing magnitudes we have been getting for 'm' and in the light of the importance of this concept in the planning context one cannot too strongly em- phasize the need for an indepth study of this subject in the region. Of course ascertaining the value of the multiplier does not resolve the more fundamental question facing the region which is how to derive a greater measure of bene- fits from the tourist industry which still remains largely outside concern is to demonstrate that there are real economic costs involved also and the two may be linked. "It is possible to argue," he contends, "that at least some part of these 'transcendental' costs are the results of the absolute size of net social benefits, and their distribution, rather than being largely independent phenomena which can be left out of the economists' calculations." This is true to an extent. And seen in this perspective costs emanating through this channel would appear to be controllable and amenable to correction. The other dimen- sion of the non-pecuniary or 'transcendental' costs which he does not discuss are those arising from what has been termed the 'culture clash,' and these are not so easily controllable. One mani- festation of this type of cost is seen in the tendency of poor societies to ape the life styles of the more affluent visitors to whom they cater. A more vicious and extreme form is to be seen in the effects that mass tourism can exert on the social fabric of mini-societies and their entire value system which gradually disintegrates to the point where a whole new culture begins to emerge based on transitory re- lationships and a new conception of work being fundamentally in conflict with the long term ob- jectives of these societies. Finally a prominent short- coming of Bryden's study which needs to be pointed out is the static nature of his analysis which concentrates "on the likely impact of tourism in the existing institu- tional and political context rather than on 'potential'." In view of the dependence of the region on the industry it would have been interesting to see what the bene- fits would be under various sets of adjustments to the existing or- ganizational and structural frame- work. As it is he can easily be accused of focusing too much on the negative consequences of tourism, however justificable this approach might be in the existing circumstances. * ARP OCCASIONAL PAPERS Maruja Acosta and Jorge E. Hardoy, Urban Reform in Revolutionary Cuba. xiv + 111 pp., maps, tables, photographs, bibliography. Paper $4.00. "... a pioneer study of one of the most important consequences of the 1959 Revolution... it focuses on one cardinal point which admits of little disagreement, namely, that Cuba alone in Latin America has arrested the widely deplored rural and small-town exodus to big-city slums and shanty towns." Richard M. Morse. Ira P. Lowenthal and Drexel G. Woodson (compilers), Catalogue de la Collection Mangonds, Petionville, Haiti. xii + 388 pp. Paper: $16.50. "Although designed primarily to serve as the key to the book collection of the Mangones Library, the volume will appeal to a range of scholars interested in the bibliography of Haiti and the Dominican Republic in particular, and of the Caribbean in general." Lee H. Williams, Jr. G.B. Hagelberg, The Caribbean Sugar Industries: Constraints and Opportunities. xvi + 173 pp., tables, references. Paper: $7.00. "It may be too often forgotten because of an anti-planter ideol- ogy, a cultivated dislike of large-scale enterprise, a distrust of 'monoculture,' or a romanticized conception of the sturdy yeoman that, under optimum conditions, sugar cane turns out to provide a rich return to the environment in which it grows, relative to its yield of energy in sugar and by-products, and to the utilization of resources necessary to its cultivation." Sidney W. Mintz. Forthcoming: Sidney W. Mintz (editor), Working Papers in Haitian Society and Culture. Order from: Antilles Research Program Yale University Box 1970 Yale Station New Haven, Connecticut 06520 C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 43 _ __ 1. GENERAL Biography MY NAME IS JOSE. Charles Bean. Franciscan Herald Press, 1974. $4.95. The history of a Puerto Rican boy in the U.S. PABLO NERUDA: FIVE DECADES. Ben Belitt, editor and trans. Grove Press, 1974. $12.50 cloth; $3.95 paper. A story about Chile's revolutionary poet. ROBERTO CLEMENTE: THE GREAT ONE. James T. Olsen. 31 pp. Children Press, 1974. $4.95. WHO WAS ROBERTO? A BIBLIOGRAPHY OF ROBERTO CLEMENTE. Phil Musick. Doubleday, 1974. $7.95. General Works ADVENTURES IN BELIZE. Robert P. L. Straugham. 240 pp. A.S. Barnes, 1974. $17.95. BEST BUYS IN THE CARIBBEAN. Jeanne and Harry E. Harman, III. 124 pp. Harman Assoc., 1974. $2.50. Tips on shopping in the Caribbean. BRAZIL ON THE MOVE. John Dos Passos. Greenwood Press, 1974. $10.25. IN CUBA. Ernesto Cardenal. D.P. Walsh, trans. J.R. Lippincott, 1974. $10.50 cloth; $3.95 paper. A fascinating account of Cuban life by the Nicaraguan Poet/Priest/Marxist. LA QUESTION DE PANAMA. Alberto Ruiz Eldredge. 98 pp. Atenas (Lima), 1974. $3.60. DOMINICA. Basil E. Crackwell. 198 pp. Stackpole Books, 1973. $8.95. FUSANG: THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY CHINESE BUDDHIST PRIESTS IN THE FIFTH CENTURY. Charles G. Leland. 212 pp. Curzon Press (London), 1973. $10.50. LA HORA DE ARGENTINA. H6ctor Hidalgo Sola. 53 pp. El Ateneo (Buenos Aires), 1974. THE PILGRIMAGE TO SANTIAGO. Edwin Mullins. Taplinger Pub. Co., 1974. $12.95. PUERTO RICAN PERSPECTIVES. Edward Mapp. 171 pp. Scarecrow Press, 1974. $6.00. Page 44 C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 SARTRE ON CUBA. Jean Paul Sartre. Greenwood Press, 1974. A reprint of the 1961 edition. SEVEN INTERPRETIVE ESSAYS ON PERUVIAN REALITY. Jose Carlos Maria- tegui. Marjory Urquidi, trans. 302 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $3.45. THE STORY OF TOBAGO, ROBINSON CRUSOE'S ISLAND IN THE CARIBBEAN. Carlton Robert Ottley. 114 pp. Longman Caribbean (Trinidad), 1973. $2.50. THE UNITED STATES AGAINST THE THIRD WORLD. Melvin Gurtov. 259 pp. Praeger Pub., 1974. THE UNITED STATES AND SOUTH AMERICA, THE NORTHERN REPUBLICS. Arthur Preston Whitaker. Greenwood Press, 1974. $13.00. Geography and Travel THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE. Adi-Kent Jeffrey. 86 pp. New Hope Pub. Co., 1973. $1.50. THE BERMUDA TRIANGLE. Charles Berlitz with J. Mason Valentine. Doubleday, 1974. $7.95. CENTRAL AMERICA. Doug Richmond. 176 pp. H.P. Book, 1974. $5.95. A guide for a trip to Central America. FIESTA TIME IN MEXICO. Rebecca B. Marcus. Garrard Pub. Co., 1974. $3.00. GUIDE TO ALL MEXICO. John Wilhelm. 425 pp. McGraw Hill, 1973. $8.95. History and Archaeology ADVENTURES IN THE SANTA FE TRADE, 1844-1847. James Josiab Webb. Porcupine Press, 1974. $17.50. THE ANCIENT AMERICAN CIVILIZA- TIONS. Friedrich Katz. 386 pp. Praeger Pub., 1974. $5.95. BERMUDA FROM SAIL TO STEAM: THE HISTORY OF THE ISLAND FROM 1784 to 1901. Henry Campbell Wilkinson. Oxford U. Press, 1973. $31.60. BUENOS AIRES. PLAZA TO SUBURB 1870-1910. James R. Scobie. Oxford U. Press, S1974. $12.50. CASAS GRANDES: A FALLEN TRADING CENTER OF THE GRAN CHICHIMECA. Charles C. Di Peso. 3 vols. Northland Press, 1974. $75.00. Results of a decade of excavations into ruins in Central America. CHRONICLE OF COLONIAL LIMA: THE DIARY OF JOSEPHE AND FRANCISCO MUGABURU, 1610-1694. Robert Ryol Miller, ed. U of Oklahoma Press, 1974. A reprint. CONQUISTA Y COLONIZACION DE SYUCATAN 1517-1550. Robert S. Chamber- lain. 400 pp. Porria (Mexico), 1974. FROM CORTES TO CASTRO. Simon Collier. Macmillan, 1974. $12.95. An introduction to the history of Latin America 1492-1973. EL DORADO. THE GOLD OF ANCIENT COLOMBIA. Julie Jones and Warwick Bray. 152 pp. New York Graphic Society, 1974. EAST FROM THE ANDES; PIONEER SETTLEMENTS IN THE SOUTH AMERICAN HEART LANDS. Raymond E. Crist. 166 pp. U. Florida Press, 1973. $4.00. GUATEMALA, LAND OF THE MAYAS. Joan Lloyd. Greenwood Press, 1974. $9.75. A reprint. JAMAICA AND VOLUNTARY LABORERS FROM AFRICA, 1840-1865. Mary Elizabeth Thomas. 211 pp. University Presses of Florida, 1974. $12.00. LETTERS RELATIVE TO THE CAPTURE OF SAINT EUSTATIUS 1781. George Brydges Rodney. 185 pp. Irish U. Press, 1973. $17.00. A reprint. MASSACRE IN MEXICO. Elena Paniatowska. Helen R. Kane, trans. with an introduction by Octavio Paz. Viking Press, 1974. $8.95. MESOAMERICAN ARCHAEOLOGY. Nor- man Hammond, ed. 474 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $15.00. This book shows in what diverse directions and with what significant results research in the Mesoamdrica regions is progressing. MEXICAN REVOLUTION. THE CONSTITU- TIONALIST YEARS. Charls C. Cumberland. 450 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $4.35. MEXICAN REVOLUTION. GENESIS UNDER MADERO. Charles Cumberland. 298 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $3.75. THE MEXICAN WAR, 1846-1848. K. Jack Bauer. Macmillan, 1974. $14.95. An epic study of one of America's most controversial wars. MONTONERAS Y GUERRILLAS EN LA ETAPA DE LA EMANCIPACION DEL PERU: 1820-1825. Gustavo Vergara Arias. 216 pp. Salesiana (Lima), 1974. $4.80. NEW APPROACHES TO LATIN AMERICAN HISTORY. Richard Graham and Peter H. Smith, editors. 275 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $8.75. PABLO MORILLO AND VENEZUELA, 1815-1820. Stephen K. Stoan. Ohio State U. Press, 1974. $13.00. The career of the disposed Spanish general who was sent to quell a bloody rebellion. SIXTEENTH CENTURY MEXICO. THE WORK OF SAHAGUN. Munro S. Edmonson, ed. 228 pp. U. of New Mexico Press, 1974. TRES FRANCESES EN LA INDEPENDEN- CIA DE VENEZUELA. Paul Verna. 119 pp. Tiempo Nuevo (Caracas), 1974. THE UNAPPROPRIATED PEOPLE: FREED- MEN IN THE SLAVE SOCIETY OF BAR- BADOS. Jerome S. Handler. 225 pp. Johns Hopkins U. Press, 1974. $10.00. UNWANTED MEXICAN AMERICANS IN THE GREAT DEPRESSION: REPATRIA- TION PRESSURES, 1929-1939. Abraham Hoffman. 207 pp. U. of Arizona Press, 1974. $4.75. Reference INDICE INFORMATIVE DE LA NOVELA HISPANOAMERICANA TOMO I: LAS AN- TILLAS. Edna Coll. 418 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, (Rio Piedras), 1974. A reference book about the Hispanic-American novel. PROTESTANTISM IN LATIN AMERICA: A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL GUIDE. John H. Sin- clair. William Carey Library, 1973. $6.95. An annotated bibliography of selected references in Latin American studies. II. THE ARTS Art, Architecture, & Music BUSH NEGRO ART: AN AFRICAN ART IN THE AMERICAS. Philip John Crosskey Dark. 54 pp. St. Martin's Press, 1973. $10.00. Art in Surinam. JUAN RAMON JIMENEZ Y LA PINTURA. Angel Crespo. 309 pp. Collecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. MEXICAN FOLK RETABLOS: MASTER- PIECES ON TIN. Gloria Kay Giffords. 160 pp. U. of Arizona Press, 1974. $19.50. Language and Literature MANUEL ALTOLAGUIRE: VIDA Y LITE- RATURA. Carmen D. Hern6ndez de Trelles. 188 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. AMERICAN AND BRITISH WRITERS IN MEXICO 1556-1973. Drewey Wayne Gunn. 300 pp. Univ. of Texas Press, 1974. $12.50. Shows the influence Mexico has had on American and British writers and their literature. BOBERIAS. Servando Montaia (ed). 182 pp. Colecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. NEMESIO CANALES: LENGUAJE Y SI- TUACION. Servando Montana Pelaez. 254 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1973. EL CANTAR FOLKLORICO DE PUERTO RICO. Marcelino Canino Salgado. 405 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1973. $2.50. A study of Puerto Rican folklore. CANTO POPULAR DE LAS COMIDAS. Armando Tejada G6mez. 118 pp. Premio Poes(a, Casa de las Am6ricas, 1974. CARIBEE. Christopher Nicole. St. Martin's Press, 1974. $7.95. A four novel series about the colonization of the West Indies. CUADERNO CUBANO. Mario Benedetti. 167 pp. Schapire (Buenos Aires), 1974. DEEP THE WATER, SHALLOW THE SHORE. Roger D. Abrahams. 125 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $7.50. Three essays on shantying in the West Indies. DESPEGUES. Alfredo Gravina. 152 pp. Premio Cuento, Casa de las Americas, 1974. EL ESPANOL EN PUERTO RICO. TomBs Navarro. 346 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. STUDIOS Y ARTICULOS. Jorge Porras Cruz. 274 pp. Colecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. STUDIOS MARTIANOS. Jos6 Martf. 197 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. GLOSARIO. Servando Montania, ed. 164 pp. Colecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. GOZOS DEVOCIONALES DE LA TRADI- CION PUERTORRIQUEIA. Marcelino Canino Salgado. 148 pp. Colecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. LATIN AMERICAN REVOLUTIONARY POETRY. Robert Mbrquez. 505 pp. Monthly Review Press, 1974. $16.50. An anthology of revolutionary poetry, featuring the finest poets of Latin America. JOSE MARTI. Ferruccio Rossi-Landi. 694 pp. Edizioni de Ideologie, 1974. In Italian. EL MUNDO DE LOS SUENOS. Rub6n Dario. 323 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1973. ONCE IN PUERTO RICO. Pura Belpre. 96 pp. F. Wame, 1973. $4.50. Puerto Rican tales. EN OTONO, DESPUES DE MIL AIOS. Marcos Yauri Montero. 335 pp. Premio Novela, Casa de las Americas, 1974. LA POESIA DE VALLE-INCLAN: DEL SIMBOLISMO AL EXPRESIONISMO. Emilio Gonzalez L6pez. 197 pp. Editorial Universita- ria, UPR, 1973. RITUAL HUMOR IN HIGHLAND CHIAPAS. Victoria Reifler Bricker. 257 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1973. $8.50. TESTIGO DE LA ESPERANZA. Francisco Matos Paoli. 132 pp. Colecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. III. SOCIAL SCIENCE Anthropology and Sociology ABANDONMENT OF CHILDREN IN JAMAICA. Erna Brodber. 104 pp. Inst. of Social and Economic Research, West Indies, 1974. AMERICAN VIRGIN ISLANDERS ON ST. CROIX, ST. JOHN AND ST. THOMAS. Sabra Holbrook. 64 pp. Parents' Magazine Press, 1974. BLACK FRONTIERSMEN: A SOUTH AMERICAN CASE. Norman E. Whitten. Halsted Press Division John Wiley, 1974. $11.25. CALCUTTA TO CARONI. THE EAST INDIAN OF TRINIDAD AND TOBAGO. John La Guerre, ed. 111 pp. Longman Caribbean (Trinidad & Jamaica), 1974. L 1.50. History and experience of the Indian community of Trinidad and Tobago. CHICANO POWER: THE EMERGENCE OF MEXICAN AMERICA. Tony Castro. Satur- day Review Press/Dutton, 1974. $8.95 cloth; $3.95 paper. An analysis of the plight of Mexican-Americans from the time of President Polk to their struggles in the 1970's. CHICANO REVOLT IN A TEXAS TOWN. John Shockley. U. of Notre Dame Press, 1974. $9.95. CHRISTIANS AND SOCIALISM. John Eagle- son, ed. Orbis Books, 1974. $7.95 cloth; $4.96 paper. Documentation on the Christian movement for socialism in Latin America. CHURCH AND STATE IN GUATEMALA. Mary Patricia Holleran. 359 pp. Octagon Books, 1974. $13.00. LA CLASE OBRERA Y EL PROCESS POLITICO EN PUERTO RICO. Angel A. Quintero Rivera. 66 pp. Centro de Investiga- clones Sociales, UPR, 1974. An analysis of the working class in Puerto Rico. EDUCATING THE MEXICAN CHILD IN THE ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Katherine Meguire. 81 pp. R. and E. Research Assoc., 1973. $8.00. ESPERANZA: AN ETHNOGRAPHIC STUDY OF THE PEASANT COMMUNITY IN PUERTO RICO. Carlos Buitrago Ortiz. 217 pp. U. of Arizona Press, 1973. $4.95. C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 45 FLIGHT 13: THIRTEEN YEARS WITH CASTRO. Mike Bove. 232 pp. Vantage Press, 1973. $5.95. GHOSTS IN THE BARRIO. Ralph Poblano. 374 pp. Leswing Press, 1973. HANDICAPS OF BILINGUAL MEXICAN CHILDREN. Fred Wesley Marcoux. 83 pp. R. and E. Research Assoc., 1973. $8.00. HUILLCA: HABLA UN CAMPESINO PERUANO. Hugo Neira Samanez. 216 pp. Premio Testimonio, Casa de las Americas, 1974. INDIAN EDUCATION IN THE CHIAPAS HIGHLANDS. Nancy Modiano. 150 pp. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1973. $2.50. LATINOAMERICA Y LOS PROBLEMS SOCIALES DE NUESTRO TIEMPO. Justo Avellaneda. 259 pp. E. Autor (Lima), 1973. $2.85. LATIN AMERICANS; CONTEMPORARY PEOPLES AND THEIR CULTURAL TRADI- TIONS. Michael D. Olien. 408 pp. Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1973. $10.00. LET JORGE DO IT: AN APPROACH TO RURAL NONFORMAL EDUCATION. James Hoxeng. 221 pp. U. of Massachusetts, 1973. $4.00. Rural education in Ecuador. LOS MAESTROS DE INSTRUCTION PUBLIC DE PUERTO RICO. L. Nieves Falcon and P. Cintron de Crespo. 167 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1973. MARX Y LENIN EN LA AMERICA LATINA Y LOS PROBLEMS INDIGENISTAS. Ale- jandro Lipschutz. 224 pp. Premio Especial, Casa de las Americas, 1974. THE MARXISM OF CHE GUEVARA. Michael Lowy. 127 pp. Monthly Review Press, 1973. $2.45. MEXICAN ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION INTO CALIFORNIA, SINCE 1945; A SOCIO- ECONOMIC STUDY. Horace Edwin Newton. 69 pp. R. and E. Research Assoc., 1973. $8.00. MEXICO: A CENTURY OF EDUCATIONAL THOUGHT. Irma Wilson. 376 pp. Greenwood Press, 1974. $14.75. A PILOT STUDY: RETURN MIGRATION TO PUERTO RICO. Celia Cintr6n y Pedro A. Vales. 80 pp. Centro de Investigaciones Sociales, UPR, 1974. RURAL SANTO DOMINGO: SETTLED, UNSETTLED AND RESETTLED. Marlin D. Clausnes. 323 pp. Temple U. Press, 1973. $11.50. SLUMS, PROJECTS, AND PEOPLE: SOCIAL PSYCHOLOGICAL PROBLEMS OF RELOCATION IN PUERTO RICO. Kurt W. Back. Greenwood Press, 1974. $9.00. A reprint of the 1962 edition. THE SOCIO-ECONOMIC STATUS TRENDS OF MEXICAN PEOPLE RESIDING IN ARIZONA. Raymond Flores. 67 pp. R. and E. Research Assoc., 1973. $8.00. SOCIOLOGIA DE LA REFORM AGRARIA EN AMERICA LATINA. Antonio Garcfa. 237 pp. Amorrortu (Buenos Aires), 1974. STRUGGLE IN THE ANDES. Howard Handelman. 296 pp. U. of Texas Press, 1974. $10.00. This book is an analysis of the causes and consequences of extensive social and political mobilization among Peru's peasant population in the 60's. TEOTIHUACAN. Karl Ernest Meyer. 172 pp. Newsweek, 1973. $10.00. Deals with the Indians of Mexico. THE URBANIZATION PROCESS OF A POOR MEXICAN NEIGHBORHOOD. An- tonio Ugalde. 69 pp. Inst. of Latin American Studies, U. of Texas, 1974. iVIVA LA RAZA! THE STRUGGLE OF THE MEXICAN AMERICAN PEOPLE. Eliza- beth Sutherland Martinez. 353 pp. Double- day, 1974. $14.95. WHY IS THE THIRD WORLD POOR? Piero Ghedoo. Trans. by Kathryn Sullivan. 143 pp. Orbis, 1973. This book addresses itself to the question: Why is two-thirds of humanity poor? Economics THE CARIBBEAN SUGAR INDUSTRIES: CONSTRAINTS AND OPPORTUNITIES. G. B. Hagelberg. 173 pp. Antilles Research Program, Yale Univ., 1974. THE ECONOMIC DEVELOPMENT OF RE- VOLUTIONARY CUBA; STRATEGY AND PERFORMANCE. Archibald R. Ritter. Praeger, 1974. $18.50. ECONOMIC INTEGRATION IN CENTRAL AMERICA. Jeffrey B. Nugent. Johns Hopkins Press, 1974. $14.00. EMPLOYMENT IN AN UNDERDEVELOP- MENT AREA: A SAMPLE SURVEY OF KINGSTON, JAMAICA. W.F. Mounder. 215 pp. Greenwood Press, 1974. $10.50. A reprint of the 1960 edition. EXPROPRIATION OF U.S. PROPERTY IN SOUTH AMERICA. George M. Ingram. 391 pp. Praeger Pub., 1974. $22.00. FORMACION HISTORIC DEL ANTI- DESARROLLO DE VENEZUELA. Hector Malave Mata. 274 pp. Premio Ensayo, Casa de las AmBricas, 1974. ISRAEL'S DEVELOPMENT COOPERATION WITH AFRICA, ASIA, AND LATIN AMERICA. Shimeon Amir. 133 pp. Praeger Publishers, 1974. JAMAICA, 1830-1930: A STUDY OF ECONOMIC GROWTH. Gisela Eisner. Green- wood Press, 1974. $17.00. A reprint of the 1961 edition. LATIN AMERICA: THE STRUGGLE WITH DEPENDENCY AND BEYOND. Ronald H. Childofe. Schenkman Pub. Co., 1974. MEXICO Y LA INTEGRACION ECO- NOMICA DE AMERICA LATINA. Wolfgang Konig. 313 pp. BID/INTAL (Buenos Aires), 1974. PARAGUAY: ECOLOGICAL ESSAYS. John Richard Gorham. 296 pp. Academy of the Arts and Sciences of the Americas, 1973. PARAGUAYAN PAPER MONEY. Dale Allan Seppa. 50 pp. Obol International (Chicago, III.), 1974. $3.00. PENSION FUNDS IN LABOUR SURPLUS ECONOMIES. Maurice A. Odle. 150 pp. Inst. of Social & Economic Research, U. of the West Indies, 1974. POLLUTION AND INTERNATIONAL BOUNDARIES. Albert E. Utton, ed. 135 pp. U. of New Mexico Press, 1973. -]-'J-p Page 46 C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 E irtal. El jBwrtra1. hinr. maiNTro BUm as* *An JlUAN . IL 001a '1BOOKTOR!E 409 San Frnciuco Plaza do Colbn Old San Juan Hours: 'Til 10 p.m. Mon. to Sat 12 Noon 'til 10 Sunday l -ogfguiu--.i-ir|^ RESIDENCE, EMPLOYMENT AND MOBILITY OF PUERTO RICANS IN NEW YORK CITY. Terry J. Rosenberg. 230 pp. U. of Chicago, 1974. $5.00. THE SUGAR INDUSTRY IN PERNAM- BUCO: MODERNIZATION WITHOUT CHANGE, 1840-1910. Peter L. Eisinber. 289 pp. U. of California Press, 1974. $15.00. Sugar trade in Pernambuco, Brazil. TRADE THEORY PREDICTIONS AND THE GROWTH OF MEXICO'S MANUFAC- TURED EXPORTS. Robert Wayne Boatler. 159 pp. Cornell U., 1973. Philosophy & Theology UNDERSTANDING LATIN AMERICANS: WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO RE- LIGIOUS VALUES AND MOVEMENTS. Eugene Albert Nida. William Carey Library, 1973. $3.95. Politics THE AFRO-ASIAN DIMENSION OF BRAZIL FOREIGN POLICY, 1956-1972. Wayne A. Selcher. 252 pp. U. Presses of Florida, 1974. $10.00. THE ALIENATED "LOYAL" OPPOSITION: MEXICO'S PARTIDO ACCION NATIONAL. Franz A. Von Sauer. 224 pp. U. of New Mexico Press, 1974. $12.00. Case study of a leading minority party in a one-party dominated country. LA ALTERNATIVE LIBERAL (UNA VISION HISTORIC DE PUERTO RICO). Juan M. Garcia Passalacqua. 169 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. An essay on the Puerto Rican liberal alternative. AMERICA LATINA Y ESTADOS UNIDOS. RELACIONES POLITICAL INTERNA- CIONALES Y DEPENDENCIA. O. lanni y Marcos Kaplan. 163 pp. Inst. de Estudios Peruanos (Lima), 1973. $3.00. BEYOND CUBA: LATIN AMERICA TAKES CHARGE OF ITS FUTURE. Luigi R. Einaudi, et als, ed. 250 pp. Crane Russak, 1974. $11.50. CHILE EN LA HOGUERA: CRONICA DE LA REPRESION MILITARY. Camilo Taufic. 239 pp. Corregidor (Buenos Aires), 1974. COUP! ALLENDE'S LAST DAY. Jos6 Manuel Vergara & Florencia Varas. Stein and Day, 1974. $7.95. A minute by minute reconstruction of the Chilean coup of September 11, 1973. CUBA IN THE 1970's PRAGMATISM AND INSTITUTIONALIZATION. Carmelo Mesa- Lago. 200 pp. U. of New Mexico Press, 1974. $9.95 cloth; $3.95 paper. A prediction of new directions in Cuba's domestic and foreign policy. CUBA UNDER CASTRO: THE LIMITS OF CHARISMA. Edward GonzAtez. 241 pp. Houghton Mifflin, 1974. $3.95. DISASTER IN CHILE: ALLENDE'S STRAT- EGY AND WHY IT FAILED. Les Evans, comp. Pathfinder Press, 1974. $2.95. ESTADO LIBRE ASOCIADO DE PUERTO RICO. Antonio Fernos Isern. 269 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. LATIN AMERICAN POLITICAL THOUGHT: A DEVELOPMENTAL PERS- PECTIVE. Edward J. Williams. 69 pp. U. of Arizona Press, 1974. $1.50 paper. THE LATIN AMERICAN REVOLUTION: POLITICS AND STRATEGY FROM AFRO- MARXISM TO GUEVARISM. Donald C. Hodges. William Morrow, 1974. $9.95. MARS MOVES SOUTH: THE FUTURE WARS OF SOUTH AMERICA. Norman D. Arbaiza. 87 pp. Exposition Press, 1974. $6.00. MEXICO AND THE UNITED STATES 1821-1973: CONFLICT AND CO- EXISTENCE. Karl Michael Schmidt. Wiley, 1974. $10.95. MUNOZ Y SANCHES VILELLA. Ismaro VelAzquez. 325 pp. Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. The story of Governors Muioz Marin and Sanchez Vilella's years in office and their differences. THE POLITICAL TRANSFORMATION OF THE BRAZILIAN CATHOLIC CHURCH. Thomas C. Bruneau. 270 pp. Cambridge U. Press, 1974. $16.50. POLITICS IN VENEZUELA. David Eugene Blank. 293 pp. Little, Brown, 1973. $4.95. PROTEST AND RESPONSE IN MEXICO. Evelyn P. Stevens. MIT Press, 1974. $17.95. jPOR QUE CAYO ALLENDE? Ruy Mauro Marini et. al. 88 pp. Alonso (Buenos Aires), 1974. PUERTO RICO Y OCCIDENTE. Ram6n Mellado. 185 pp. Colecci6n Uprex, Editorial Universitaria, UPR, 1974. BY REASON OR FORCE: CHILE AND THE BALANCING OF POWER IN SOUTH AMERICA. Robert N. Burr. 322 pp. U. of California Press, 1974. $3.45. THE TROJAN HORSE: A RADICAL LOOK AT FOREIGN AID. Stephen R. Weissman et. al. 249 pp. Ramparts Press, 1974. $7.95. URBAN GUERILLA WARFARE IN LATIN AMERICA. James Kohl and John Litt. MIT Press, 1974. $12.50. EL VIAJE MAS LARGO. Humberto J. Pefia. 227 pp. Ediciones Universal (Miami), 1974. VIDA, PASSION Y MUERTE DEL PARTIDO COMUNISTA DOMINICANO. Franklin J. Franco. 80 pp. Lib. Nacional (Santo Domin- go), 1974. $1.00. Photo by Ronald Rose, Bahamas Ministry of Tourism. C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 47 Con tinued from page 7 Leveraging the message is aware- ness on the part of the interna- tional hotel systems that Carib- bean politicians have no choice if they are to continue to provide jobs in the tourism sector. But there is a neutralizing if not yet visible political cost as well. For whatever else "development" means, it's going to have to mean governments putting up cash and commitments if the jobs geared to rich folks' fantasy are to continue. Development subordinated to tourism. This is the take-it-or- leave-it pitch from the surrogates of industrial society delivered to the 200-plus delegates from governments, business and divers sectors lately convened in Caracas for the First Specialized Confer, ence on Caribbean Tourism. Hailed as "'historic" by its organizers, the sessions dwelt among ironies and were perhaps most memorable for having stood their auspice on its head. The Caribbean Tourism Research Centre, born to create a develop- ment context around tourism, became appointee of fantasy tourism, swiftly to convey -the message onward. Onward to the development establishment that its resources be diverted-to the "'haves." In effect, that without bailing out the "haves" the region would remain only with "have- nots." Initiated as it was. the confer- ence could hardly have wound up otherwise. Its occasion was in response- to talk of collapse when last September the -regional- gov- ernment tourism organization met in annual meeting in Martinique (CR Oct/Nov/Dec 74). There the Caribbean Travael Assn.- urged the convening as an immediate prior- ity. It was--a request that could hardly have been. refused. the. President of CTAi-and the Chair- man of the- Caribbean Tourism Research Centre being one and the same, Peter Morgan, Minister of- Tourism of Barbados. The government of Venezuela quickly seized the--opportunity to welcome the event to Caracas. The era of Perez had already come to be felt world-wide. It was oppor- tune to turn national interests toward the neighboring archi- pelagic basin. President Perez later was to inaugurate the conference by admitting that "Venezuela has been living with the cold shoulder to its responsibility in the Carib- bean," but now would welcome these neighbors into what he termed "the great Latin American citizenship." Venezuela would now channel its geopolitics through tourism. Why not?. What better avenue to influence in the Caribbean? It would be an occasion for nothing less than a prestigious turnout. Indeed, the commitment of Perez to address the meeting would leverage a high-level attend- ance, would dignify the proceed- ings, would mean undeniably the message heard, whatever it-might be. It would also mean, convening in the luxury- surroundings of Inter-Continental's Hotel Tama- naco, that for some the tariff would be burdensome. At US$30.95 double per day, and minimum air fare of US$180 from a point immediately north of Barbados, such as St. Lucia, fourth nights to be.on hand for the heavy three-day sessions -would cost: at least US$250. It was not an occasion likely to draw large numbers of small hoteliers, academics, or others .who would have to pay their own way. It was, after all, the most. serious of meetings; In Martinique it had been -said- there was a 'liquidity criis" continuing on an "unabated negative -trend;" that rising costs and dwindling -re- venues were resulting in financial inability to "refurbish. the dete- riorating physical -plants"-- it- was recommended- that. :all .govern-- ments iriMpose an immediate nii-ra- torium on newit investment .andr construction pending a thorough study of the exact. status of the. industry. Instances were given of potential hotel. bankruptcies, of governments being obliged: to provide financial support to- avert -closures, of very substantial 1'sses occurring. As Minister Morgan summarized in his pre-Caracs- bulletin, "The very serious impact of the decline, if not collapse, of Caribbean tourism in terms of: -. social, economic -and political- -- consequences was stressed." - And the most serious of-people .: would attend: the governmentt. __ tourism administrations, the chain-- -:-:-- hotels, the airlines, cruise lines, tour operators, the advertising/ promotion fraternity, the com- mercial banking sector, the-region- al tourism organizations.- They would be joined-by represen-tatives --:-- of -the World .Bank, the- O.A.S - Caribbean Development Bani, Canadian -International Develop- -: ment Agency,--Caribbean Com-: munity Secretariat,:_ 'Christian . Action for Development in the :- Caribbean, .UWI's Institute of Social_ & Economic Rese-arch Ki_ e- Inter-American: Foiudation, and others. Cuba-and Chitle-ere here as an odd couple-of o-bseer.vs._- Colombia as well. They would address-themsl vels-- to three topics.: Finance- -and&---, re-finance mainly: of- the- hotel:'- sector; transportation and-miarket--: - Sing/public relations; and thehinter- relationship between. agriculture and manufacturing: with to ---- uris --- Or as the Chairman noted ith regard to the:-latter, th-' .rert table lack of it." Primary attention- became : focused -on -the- plih-t of the_ :: _hotels. This was, t a, -a here _ the banks were invested and-there- their loans -were going bd. it was also where CaaibbeanvoitiWians-0 -have banked- on igh empiGyloyent. Barclay's noted baner's dozen of loans _gone ead, Fanging from 12 to 250 rooms. Fri Th - steady rise -in total baulams to - Ahisroulib sv'^fe ^ ih- a tourism, J974 saw thd=:firslsag aM a corresponding iin the prootrtin f torismnidin part of- total -ommerl an Only the start, deelare-bs& e Richard Barclay. "I&I mid -be - expected that commercialariks will look even ore figofousl & rnewi p ects- haneheefoth ad-wil rfeqtire: a higher aroiorid of :, ;_- Page 48- C.R. Vol. VII No. 1 Sproprietors capital to .-total fi- a -'n.- ance." He noted.-advise6lly that .-for a -:iewv hotel -to make satisfae- S-tory- profits "it. needs an average annual: occupancy of- over =7i0 per .cent'," difficult tb achieve, he said, with the .'Caribbeanrs _'-strong - seasonal swing in occupancies." hy: sohigh? A:u- fller-answer :- was w provided by( TChades A-. Bellh L E. t ix Vi dicet Presidenit;:.AV4terin Heispheire, and Corpoate Tes- nical: .Seriices- 'f-Hilton Inte-na- S o-;- tio'al C'o.-Most of the reasons are "mique to: theseG Caibhean island :- r rt hotels, s iBel- FistH off- S ost. ofi sales- Tour operator o- ctrinissicins o 15 to 2ipe cent -helpto reTlube caribbean robm 'profit ratios to 681.8 per: cent verstui well ove-i 70- per- cent- in- C. Canada- and -Latin America. -Ad-- -vertising -and business proimottion --expense, is .35per cent higher thah .in the other-two areas.:" -Resort hotels require_. more labor, -he -noted gardeners,. beach attendants, social_ staffs, etc; The- : productivity of workers mi these otelS is ifower .than- elsewhere, - :.-; od -andbeverage_ p- chases are : orted ata ti-atsportation -cost of at leaist10.per cent "and many Simes ;these attract punitive e duties o top of tht." This same cost of imiporfati on and transport "carries over into chima, lnei, silver, glass, and a myriad 'of supplies ranging S fromn-facial towels and -napkins to cleaning and. office :supplies. The: re- -sort mifust.-provide onre music and entertainment -than the com- merieial hotel. Even repairs :and _- maintenance- under -the- rigorous lina-ite -and seaside- conditions contribute. to a higher .Caribbean ::-expenset ritid:- this category,- and : perhaps to-p -it off; the- Carib- Sbean-;--as been -it -imuch harder than its two neighbor areas-by the threefold' increase in the cost- of oil." - Bell decried the-policy of most governments which encourage further extension of their hotel sectors. The emphasis instead, he said, "should be on improving the- economic health of the hotel and tourist industry that already exists." -One' who-disareed sharply was mloses Mataori, -Chairman -of: amaiea's U--iriban, --Development- Corporation. Under .his direction, Jamaica wi i have addehalf again to the number fits. existing hotel rooms -withiW- a current five-year perioTd- The .prograw- has-plunged :pccupanciesi-s ta figure for.1974 (that)- is .not .exfpeted-_ to- exceed -45 per cent", according :to the reporttt at-Carac-of -the Jaimaica Hotel- & Tourist Assn. Why such internecine division in- Jamaica? and why- UDCs Matalon pitted against banker arayand Hl- tonxs Bell? . .__ The '--iddle unravels orn. closer reading;. Hilton's Caribbean properties, w-hile, wefully- .less profitable than the -chain's groups- in Latin Amrerica and Canada. to wIhich he: offered .compaisons,.. -nevertheless chalk up .a house. profit ratio- of: 16.5. per cent; house: profit. is- what's. left 'after -deducting the -direct--costs of -operation, those -which the oper- ator: can to a greater or lesser degree control. For the Caribbean hotel industry.as'--a whole the -comparable 1973. house. profit Figure was a-dismal.2.3- per cent. Or take .again the Jamaican case. The JHTA report goes on to -say. that the building- of large. properties -by the chain hotels ddaling to a great extent in chapter travel and in some cases at cut price rates has "seriously affected the occupancy figures of medium and small hotels of which the island is mainly comprised. Many of these hotels are now finding it extremely difficult to remain viable. with high rates of interest.. making it almost -impossible, to me~ t long term mortgages. The ;cost. of operation due to-the above has-now.far exceeded any possible rate increase." What JHTA doesn't note is that the demise of the smaller proper- ties is no accident. It is the result of deliberate policy. For the UDC, an instrument of Jamaican policy, the case is -clear: -"It has been unavoidable that the enforced obsolescence created by the frequent changes within the air transport- fleets should have in ;. itself been the cause of a consider- . able amount of -obsolescence in.- - the accommodations for visitors at - the- end of- the line. Over-the last three decades a pattern-- has evolved whereby the -minimum n number of rooms it viable hotels seems t increase -in relatiohnlship-. to the. seating capacity odf .the then; most popular size of aircraft iTr service.- Today's figure-seems to -be- - in-the vicinity of 200-rooms."''As .- if to forecast the future, the J-UDC report notes further that "there'iis a school of thought that contdeds--.- ,that there is little chance; o - viability for any hotel- antcipating year -roun: business -ith an installed capacity of less than350 - rooms." - Matalon welcomes the inevita- bility of technologic ch-ange- "the technological revolution within this industry," he-calls it - "a revolution---similar to that of.- retailing where the-supermarket is transplanting- (sic) the --corner- grocery store." It-does not mean there is no .longer any room for a corner grocery store but- rather, "that there is no longer any room for a grocery store on every corner." The situation in Barbados would .seem to bear him 6iit. There- the condition- w-as ;teimed-- - alternately "extremely critiical"- and "extremely preciouss" It ist-a - case, reports the President-of the Barbados Hotel Assn., where "al- though the luxury hotels, with - stronger -financial backing- and- more highly trained -.personnel, were -better equipped to withstand : the loss .. the-small bdtels.-with- continuing losses.were in critical--"- finandial trouble ard would -so0on-- - have to. make decisions as to:1-ie---- -- feasibility and 'rationale of cor-i-l- tinuing to operate." - In other ways as well it became apparent that the -sense. of- the meeting was that the era of small hotels-was-over and the future lay - with the chains, th larger worth bailing out, those invested in by: local entrepreneurs best left to wither. Two examples should C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 49 suffice. During a discussion on whether or not a moratorium on new hotel construction should be recommended for consideration in advance of governments extending new finance to bail out the sector. banker Barclay, arguing against in plenary session noted that during the committee debate on the matter "the moratorium question was discussed at great length and it became apparent that there was at least one state that wouldn't accept a moratorium, it was contrary to their policy. And also that there were other states which foresay continuing development of a certain type of large hotel but which no doubt would see that smaller hotels were kept under check." It was left finally to the last day of discussion on resolutions for the hotel forces on hand to do in the prospect for the smaller non-chain properties. Two resolu- tions at odds with each other, both ultimately approved, pointed up a dichotomy which persisted throughout the meeting. The committee dealing with integration of domestic agriculture and manufacturing with tourism had drawn the smallest number of participants. Fewer than 20 were there, as contrasted, for example, with more than 100 seeking to bail out the chains. These were in the main officers of agriculture and manufacturing marketing boards, the Caricom and Cadec delegates, the former tourism adviser to the CDB, and first chairman of the Caribbean Hotel Assn.'s Small Hotels Advisory Council. Out of its work came a series of 11 resolutions. The first called on CTRC "to organize on behald of the region a program of research to determine the scope of the market which will support a locally owned and integrative tourism and also to evaluate the prospect of establishing one or more government tour operators to market this product, further to analyze the types of incentives necessary to support such a tourism with particular considera- tion to training, finance and Page 50 C.R. \ol. VII No. I marketing." There were perhaps 50 dele- gates in the. hall when it came up, many its chief proponents. The hotel committee's work was dis- cussed first, however. While the bulk of its attentions was devoted to calling on governments, CTRC. the CDB and other regional institutions to organize new fi- nance in support of the troubled hotel sector, where it dealt speci- fically with the smaller properties "the corner groceries" it was plain these interests were to be subordinated. As it came out in approved resolution, the message was clear: "Whereas the limita- tions of resources of some hotel enterprises might be overcome by coordinating their efforts in order to achieve a larger occupancy in view of solving their financial problems, and whereas certain marketing services and mecha- nisms turn out to be highly expensive for small hotels, (we resolve) to recommend to the governments to consider initiatives destined (sic) to the coordination by the needy hotels, of marketing and administration efforts, bearing in mind that no monies should be expended until a sound hotel product acceptable to the market is developed." It had become "Catch 22." How could monies be expended to determine whether there was a "sound hotel product acceptable to the market" until monies were first expended to establish that a market exists? And what consti- tutes such a sound hotel product, and to whose notion of the market would it have to be acceptable? Ironically, the pre-condition of "acceptability" was introduced at the argument of CHA's President Jack Gold, the same who had championed the small hotel sector before his ascendency to the presidency. Nor was it an about- face. It was rather a peeve with the government of Jamaica which a few years back had launched its "Inns of Jamaica" program, es- sentially a marketing initiative to bail out the small hotels but without investing the necessary management training and do- mestic support systems to insure a sound product when the visitors began to arrive. The result was an embarrassment at which Gold, himself a successful small hotelier, particularly chafed. It was a matter of ill-timed pique, given the constituency of the Caracas meeting, and was quickly accepted by the body. Puerto Rico had also talked somewhat of its small hotels initiative, the "paradores Puer- torriquenos. But it was too early to calculate the results, said the delegate, Carlos Diago. And in any case, the Puerto Rican problem was not with the small properties which now were being organized soundly and experimentally marketed through Puerto Rico's own tour operator abroad. It was with the oceanfront high-rises, ill-financed, many failed, and other failures in prospect. What was needed was strong action by the region in support of this sector no talk of moratorium, fought primarily by Diago and Barclay who co-chaired the committee on hotels so there would be no loss of confidence, no message to the marketplace of weakness, no publicity of trouble. Barclay's was not alone heavily invested. The stakes were larger in the case of Puerto Rico which had lately introduced slot machines in its failing properties, contrary to pre-existing legislation governing San Juan, to amass funds that would guarantee bank refinance from abroad. It was a bail-out and the governments were given no choice. CTRC was called on to arrange a meeting of the financial institu- tions working in the region - CDB, IDB, World Bank as well as government and private banks "to study the scope of the problem and to discuss the me- chanisms and procedures neces- sary for the debt refinancing and for the restructuring of hotel capital in regions that have been affected." The irony, of course, is that the President Carlos Andrds Perez Photo by Neil Schwartz hotels championed by Moses Matalon those "acceptable to the marketplace" are those which historically have resisted integration into their local com- munities. At 200 rooms and up they out-scale their Caribbean places. Run by expatriates, domi- nated by oligarchs, expensively fueled on fantasy, but "efficient" for the overseas travel marketing apparatus, they are increasingly capital-intensive, dependent on a degree of technology which vir- tually rules out domestic supply sources or equitable use thereof when available. These properties proliferate in the more developed of the Carib- bean states. Matalon's Jamaica is a clear case. In place of the corner grocery stores the UDC's super- markets which he pointedly notes "I have the privilege to represent" have commitments of some $60 million in properties with some 2,200 rooms, "all the equity of which is owned by these corpora- tions (governed by the UDC)." The corporations, he adds, "are further committed to infrastruc- ture and amenity developments associated with the tourist sector to the extent of a further $50 million. And it shall be the policy of these corporations ... to use all available opportunities for further investments in the industry where these can be beneficially and economically deployed to increase the share of the available market we feel the island can and should enjoy." It is increasingly an indus- trialized travel experience. It is the tourism of "you gotta give 'em what they want." Who "they" are is not the traveler. "They" are the tour operators, the chain oper- ators, the airline marketing execu- tives and their collective power to induce product acceptance within the marketplace. The new hotels grow larger. They become more self-contained, more security- conscious, more out of touch with their locales. The escape is further embellished, the fantasy more lavish. It is the particular product and export of industrial society. We produce what we can never enjoy; the cost of production demands our dissatisfaction. What was once pleasure travel, the respite from industrial values we thought, has now become mass tourism, the supermarket hotel with its additives, chemicals, ad- vertising hype, emphasis on packaging, check-out lines, automation, plastic-wrapped sugared carcinogens. It is neither intended for the benefit of the worker nor of the consumer. It is for the benefit of the corporation. From corporate decision-making flow all benefits. Wise is the corporation, wise is the corpora- tion, and powerful. The corpora- tion is now the travel wholesaler, the packager. Sell the product. And our two weeks at leisure are now the packaged product of industrial society. Those who sell it to us at work hustling their brochures, assembling the coupon books, taking their commissions - the suppliers of our industrial pleasure are people at work at the assembly line, fantasizing in their cubicles among the travel posters and route maps wishing to hell they could get away on vacation. What of the CDB's policy to favor the "less-developed na- tions," those, ironically, where the hotel chains are least likely to invest, given their relative inacces- sibility by trunk carriers? Changes in values and attitudes, the CDB President, William Demas, calls for; technological innovation to develop efficient labor-intensive techniques of production. "The problem that modern technology poses for Third World countries suffering from heavy unemploy- ment is that Western technologies are highly capital-intensive and are becoming increasingly so, as con- tinuing efforts are made in the advanced countries to economize on labour." And further, as he writes in "How To Be Independ- ent" (CR Oct/Nov/Dec 74): "These changes in values, atti- tudes, and motivations towards hard work, towards agriculture, towards vocational training, to- ward production as against con- sumption, and towards tastes for local as against foreign goods and services can only be achieved through the development (and practice) of an authentic, in- digenous West Indian ideology of development and social change - one in keeping with the historical experience of the West Indian people." But if the politicians are blind- ed to options in tourism develop- ment by the blandishments of the chains that bind them, what becomes of CDB policy? or is there to be a political quid without a political quo? Energy, said one of the planners in Caracas, is the "new wild card," matched with what he termed C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 51 high goods costs and low labor productivity, the "two long-term plagues of tourism." Fritz Lunde noted that "even high occupancy properties are approaching zero profit in those countries where the energy bill has tripled and quadru- pled in the last year." And he called for a new "energy ethic in tourism. Tourism is an energy intensive industry, at least as compared to per capital energy consumption rates of Caribbean countries. The hotel guest uses more water, more electric energy per day than would be com- parably true in his home, at his work place or in his industry ." It fell to Lunde to spell out the "other" political message: "Since electric rates are subsidized by many governments in order to be affordable by the less affluent. sectors of the society, it is very clear that governments will not thereby wish to unduly subsidize tourism at the expense of the native population, particularly if the national becomes) aware if the situation." Once upon a time it was said that if only the governments owned the hotels their interests would be secured. But the oil corporations have accepted their divestment of equity. The market- ing and system technics remain theirs. Their role becomes increas- ingly clear. Responsible neither to the producers nor to the con- sumers, the corporation become the super-marketers. They are not responsible for change. The role is to suck an ever greater apparatus into the middle, to withdraw energies from the principals of source and mouth, to complexity at the center, to neutralize the binding conditions of community. In its place: the new floating corporation of interest, arbiter of consumption, princes of tech- nology. Emerging from the failure of society, the corporation can have no scruple but to take charge; society has no choice. Survival is dependent on us. * THE NEW CARIBBEAN GUIDE By Herbert L. Hiller At---------- In place of "The Caribbean Guide" as it has regularly appeared, we want to talk about what happens when tourism happens in the Caribbean. What happens when some six to seven million people each year come into the Caribbean and the Bahamas at leisure? What is that relationship all about? What kind of a thing is it to think about? The new guide emerges from the kind of travel analysis we will offer. The guide will talk about travel in the Bahamas and the Caribbean from the point of view of the domestic policy toward having visitors. We will look at the policy as a guide to what kind of experience is being encouraged for the traveler. Is it an experience isolated from the place where it happens? Is the vacation ambience likely to be one of fantasists escaping into the Tropics from Industrial Society? Is the experience integrated with the place? Am I likely to be among others experiencing the scale and pace and mood of what goes on there? The editorial bias here is toward the integrity of places and toward travel as an experience to help us sort ourselves out, those who travel as well as those who are traveled among. The guide entries will be up-dated as policies change or as the travel experience seems generally to change even in the absence of policy shift. We will not initially deal with such things as prices, entry requirements, geographic descriptions, so on, and we may not get into it at all. This kind of information is available in conventional guides. Some few places to stay, eat and visit will be noted in particular. These will be places known to the writer. Readers are encouraged to offer their own recommendations from experience, and indeed, to comment generally on the content being developed through these reports. ANTIGUA This is one of the earliest tourism in the Caribbean, begun as a series of enclave resorts and probably having set this pattern for much of the eastern Caribbean. The places are almost all under 100 rooms, expatriate- owned, many charming, luxurious, and convivial in their seclusion. The places hug the hundreds of coves and beaches. An American airbase folded after the World War and left Antigua with the makings of a modern jetport Page 52 -C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 at a time when only the well-to-do were traveling so. Antigua became available non- stop from New York. The tourism selected Antigua more than Antigua has ever calcu- lated a rational approach to produce eco- nomic and social rewards from it. A malaise has set in and the tourism has fallen on hard times. In Antigua, this has to be politically disquieting. Recent moves in the tourism administration bode better, and the prospect is at hand for more serious inquiry into the ongoing relationship between An- tigua and its tourism. Gregarious experiences are to be had at Darcy's at the Kensington Court where the local town scene is displayed in flourishes. This is in St. John's, the capital. The cuisine and brew are salubrious, and the place is altogether too local to tolerate an atti- tudinalized sullenness which has marked too much of the travel experience on the island. The streets outside are wide, the commerce of the town active. It is too bad the tourism is so cut off from it. Perhaps the veil of English mannerisms has allowed it to be accepted that the tourism should occur in such a way. Among sandy enclave coves there is a leisure acting out for Northern escapists, marked by occasional sightseeing to colonial landmarks. One is aware that much is being missed from the experience, lost benefits. ARUBA This is the commercial success of Caribbean tourism. On a superb stretch of beach just about all the hotels are strung out. There is ample public access and the scene is shared along the waterfront by Arubans and visitors alike. But apart from the typical use of local nomenclature to name the bars and night clubs, it is a tourism removed from local contact. It seems strange it should be so here where the domestic prosperity, education and liking for North America make it so easy for the visitor to interact with the resident population. There are smaller hotels, less formal than those modeled on Miami Beach and San Juan. The island is rich in its archaeology, birdlife, landscaping, geology. There is a community feeling about the island politics. There is a history of economic well-being. There is an awareness and development of the unique Indian heritage. One is left with the feeling of some quirk wherein what is local is deemed insufficient; that the fantasy constructed for the visitor, though funny in so many ways, is nevertheless something to be serious about. As if to say, okay, if that's what they want, we can do that just the way we can do most anything. It is too bad the Aruban competence is not more closely perceived by the visitor. But it is not. Outstanding is the seafood cuisine at Trocadero in Oranjested, hub of the tourist area. First-rate cuisine, too, at the Pensi6n Antillano in San Nicolas, the city with its oil refinery which supplies most of the island revenues. THE BAHAMAS These hundreds of islands ranging from north of Hispanola and arching northwesterly to a latitude off Palm Beach, Florida, must be seen as several tourist areas. There is Freeport on Grand Bahamas Island: the tourism man- made, fantastic, non-Bahamian, touristy. There is New Providence Island which offers three versions in itself: a broad-based enclave for the rather well-to-do on Paradise Island; the traditional charms, though somewhat congested, along Cable Beach; the decayed yet vibrant bustle of Nassau. And there are the Out-Islands where the experiences are governed by one's hosts in close relationship to the natural and cultural surroundings. This is the classic economy dependent on tourism, and hardly anywhere is the evidence so accumulated as to what it means. Here perhaps as nowhere else the need is to reorganize the tourism in terms of national objectives, to find how to get a handle on this phenomenon which for so long has been encouraged out of mythic belief in its propensity to bring good fortune to those who serve it. It is seen differently now and processes of reorientation begin. In the meanwhile, the experience is ambiguous. What makes it uniquely its own, particularly in Nassau, is that the very history of tourism is inescapably part of what one realizes while there. It suffuses all and all includes shopping, a spectrum of entertain- ment, gambling, sightseeing, beach-going, golf, and on and on. It does not suffuse, however, the Three Queens Inn, redolent and reward- ing of the local cuisine. BARBADOS So long favored for its diminutive scale, its decorum, sophistication and beaches, Bar- bados tourism today paradoxically attracts both the well-to-do and the air-charter tourists. How you find the place depends on how you've known it. The charm is still to be had though it requires greater selectivity today than once. An impetuous romance with low-end charter tourism has produced num- bers among visitors but dismays planners with a lowering net return to national coffers. The approach is always rational and the tourism is likely to be reorganized to draw more strongly again from the upper end of the market. In the meantime, Barbados remains a center of Caribbean affairs, a locus of West Indian culture, though with hardly a hint of it all exposed to the visitor. In hotels and restaurants you can get the other kind, but a good Bajan meal is hard to find. It is definitely worth looking for though, making private arrangements. And in any case, there's the succulent fried kingfish prepared by the vendors along Baxter Road in Bridgetown, available on the street late in the evening. The widest range of accommodations available, friendliness, a Caribbean pallette of colors in an orderly environment. And a reliable bus service to get you everywhere while among people who will converse openly. BONAIRE Bonaire offers among the happiest of vacation experiences in the Caribbean, off the coast of Venezuela, under-populated, quiet, and offer- ing a stunning assortment of unusual things easily experienced. It is such a place where picnicking always seems the appropriate thing to do while touring an island distinct in its birdlife, its reefs, its protected wilderness. The wildlife birds, the cactus and related flora of Washington National Park, the salt flats, picturesque inland villages, all offer the stuff of tours and impromptu discoveries. There are also the beaches and reefs, as fine as to be found, and free not only of'crowds but often of people. Though still much off the beaten track, there are nonetheless several fine local eating places one thinks particularly of Sujo's and Zeezicht, the former inland, the latter along the sea. The Bonairean is easily met, helpful, friendly. The capital of Kralendijk is a comfortable place to walk, to have a snack or meal, to pick up food for picnics, to have a sense of the scene. It often seems there are unusually few people in town. With a land mass about two-thirds that of Barbados, Bonaire's population is about 1/25th - around 10,000. Hotels are mostly locally owned, few, mostly small and informal, specializing in clientele to the scuba crowd, Venezuelans, the luxury trade, the budget-minded, the longer- stays. There's a change of planes in Curacao and worth the effort for the natural marketing selectivity that occurs. BRITISH VIRGIN ISLANDS Eighty miles east of Puerto Rico, one mile across the Pillsbury Channel from the U.S. Virgins. A place largely dependent on tourism yet unaffected by the big-time of it all. Small hotels by international standards, individual, informal for the most part, though there is a British sensitivity to form. The diminutive scale of the hotels reflects the pace of these islands where there are only some small towns, Road Town the administrative center. Nothing overwhelms but the tranquility, the scenic display, the sense that one is removed from worldly hustle. It may be because of a minimal air facility on Beef Island, to where flights originate in San Juan, the U.S. Virgins, and Antigua. As elsewhere in the Caribbean, the extra flight separates the seeker from the casual vaca- tioner who is sieved out at the connecting points. Still a Crown Colony, the BVI may be one of the places that organizes its tourism in its own self-interest. That can only vouch for the interests of travelers as well. BVlslanders, by the way, work at jobs in the U.S. Virgins with a result that U.S. currency is official here. So is familiarity with U.S. ways. The under- standing seems to yield a host who interacts amiably and in the interests of guests from overseas. CAYMAN ISLANDS The appeal of Grand Cayman has been its quietness, the friendliness of the people, and the beach. The people have been industrious, sailors to the world; there is no unemploy- ment. Nor has there been anything much to do at home, retail and distribution trades plus fishing, house-building. The economy has been dependent on remittances. The traditional supports are changed. It is now tourism, offshore banking, land specula- tion. What made the earlier hotels agreeable despite lack of air conditioning, mosquitoes and the like was the ambient tranquility. The small scale of development inescapably brought the visitor and Caymanian together. Specialization and organization by in- dustrial values are ascendant now. The easy ways become aberrant. "Modern" is in vogue. Culture becomes quaint. As it changes to become like the rest, the place demands comparison. The primacy of its selfless is given up. Larger numbers come, more building comes on, the tone of what was is gone. Those who come for the quiet can fly on to Cayman Brac or Little Cayman, just enough of a small-plane hop to separate those who buy the image and therein put it to an end, from those who move on and start the process elsewhere. The beach remains The Beach, just as the cuisine at the Tortuga Club remains memo- rable. CUBA Little known to the U.S. market, Cuba's tourism expands at a geometric rate. From a base of nil, under professional guidance geared to objectives of the revolution, the country's emergent tourism parallels Cuba's quickening re-establishment among hemi- spheric affairs. Some 4,000 came in 1973, mainly Canadians and eastern Europeans. The numbers were reported at 15,000 in '74, and prospects are for triple that volume in the current year. Growing apace is the accom- modations sector with 11 hotels said under construction now and plans for three times or more that number by '76. The vacation experience is neither heavy on ideology nor on separation of the visitor from the Cuban. The emphasis is to attract the visitor to a wide range of accommoda- tions, to establish a diversified market, and to strengthen the Cuban's knowledge of the world through the interaction while at the same time representing the achievements of the revolution to the visitor. In the classic mode, chief objectives include the creation of employment and earning of foreign exchange. What makes it different from experiences generally offered in the Caribbean is the harmony between what are otherwise termed public and private objectives. Domestic realities are not seen as an encumbrance from which the visitor must be shielded in enclave isolation. What is being managed is not a hotel, but rather an economy of which the hotel, be it humble or luxurious or the C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 53 camp ground or guest house of family home, for that matter is only an aspect. Given the integrity of its offerings and the probability of pent-up market demand, Cuba's position is perhaps one of the strongest in the region already. The tourism sector will be expanded only as there is supply to accommodate the demand. Staff is being trained not to become culturally depersonalized but in themselves to represent Cuba to the visitor. Fortunately for the rest of the region and its dependence on tourism, there is no apparent desire within the national administration ideologically to punish other resort areas. Given the reality of Cuba's re-emergence, the others, especially her near neighbors, are eager to establish good relationships on behalf of their tourism. The prospect is for multi-island visits when the North American market opens fully. It may be, though, that visits will be available only seven months of the year as current policy, even while it allows Cubans to share the facilities at all times, is to close vacation areas during the months from May through September when Cubans par- ticularly prefer to vacation themselves. CURACAO As tourism in the Caribbean has developed, this once most popular destination has languished. Where once the shopping in downtown Willemstad, the capital, was a prime appeal, as destinations have become more competitive, tours more massive, stand- ards generally less marked, the earlier appeal of Curacao's architecture, friendliness, and favorably priced luxury merchandise have become less substantial attractions. Why does one visit Curacao? There are no beaches to speak of, no lush tropical vegetation. It is flat and dry and windy. But it is also the political, urban and cultural center of the Netherlands Antilles, chief link with Holland, historically a merchants' community and significant in the affairs of North and South America as well as the Caribbean. These are not the normal Caribbean tourist attractions. On the other hand, it is perhaps the European character of Willemstad which so differentiates the experience. On the other, the sophistication of the people, and the prosperous organization of society drawn from their industriousness. Yet the administration of tourism, in- creasingly influenced by chain hotel proper- ties, allows the island to be represented in the main by the same commercialized hype applied elsewhere. The place is too politically advanced for the Curacaolanean not to express himself, even when it may be upsetting to the marketplace imagery with its premium on docile natives. The depth of life here escapes the visitor. In a more efficient than thought-out policy, the traveler's experience is shaped by modern hotels and shopping, and but for the charm'of downtown, the essence of the place is largely kept removed. It is a policy out of touch with reality and shapes a let-down for the visitor. To enjoy oneself here, the need is to shape one's own experience. The scene is intense, international, full of prospect. It becomes a fascinating place to visit as one comes to know it. It is obviously the basis for a highly differentiated tourism, one which coupled with nearby places more appealing in their traditional offerings of beaches and natural variety can reorganize its faltering prospect. DOMINICA One of the more difficult places to get to from outside the Caribbean, Dominica by its isolation offers a vacation experience ungov- erned by fantasy, imports, and the stress of industrial technology. It is an outdoors place; the attractions are the scenery jungle, forests, waterfalls, rivers, geologic oddities - and the people among the scene. Dominica is a spectacle; verdant, mossy, sparsely settled. One becomes aware of finding oneself as a being in nature. The hotels are individual expressions, some locally owned, nothing larger than 60 rooms, most around 10 to 30. There is little pretension; it is hardly a place anyone would build a hotel except to attract a visitor compatible with a host's standards. Most are in Roseau (several simply commercial places), the capital, or in the near outlying areas. All are at least an hour from the airport which further provides a buffer for those who already appreciate the place and those others likely to find out about it. Cuisine is local, often well prepared, sometimes superbly, as by Millie Toussaint at the sometimes open, sometimes closed Spring- field Plantation. Dominica's tourism can only benefit by more visitors who come in response to the kind of place it is. It is not soon likely to be overrun, yet the added numbers can benefit the economy, given the absence of leakage among foreign exchange earnings. DOMINICAN REPUBLIC Second largest land-mass among Caribbean states, the Dominican Republic has never made it as a tourist place. Politics has overshadowed natural and historic attributes, and there has been minimal encouragement in the post-Trujillo era. Reflecting the lack of policy, Dominican tourism experiences come in a wide assortment but paper-thin in organization, uncertain in performance. Hos- pitable people and an abundance of local content nevertheless make the visit worth- while for the traveler who seeks experiences on a per-person rather than mass basis. Local seafoods, beef and produce com- bined with respect for Hispanic traditions, cultural integrity and relatively low prices make the Dominican experience affordable and a part of what happens to any visitor whether in the capital of Santo Domingo, at the resorts of La Romana, the north coast, or the mountains. Dominican sophistication is pre-plastic; the resident population is en- countered on a person-to-person basis. The capital is redolent of the smells, full of the sights sounds and motion of a cosmopolitan city made up of accumulated neighborhoods. The accommodations include a range from bloated elegance to guest houses, with rustic lodges and correspondingly informal small hotels in slumbering resorts. A pair of hotels at La Romana are in the top league of Caribbean places, offering fullest amenities and recreation, yet integrated into the life of the neighboring sugar community. Lina's sets the international standard for in-town cuisine. GRENADA One of the beautiful places, each of its hostelries distinctive, each characterized by its own architecture. The place has not yet been geared to "smile" at the tourist or otherwise to become cute or pandering. It may be because the overseas tourism apparatus doesn't regard Grenada with particular favor: it's difficult to get to, which is to say, it requires a change of plane unless you're traveling from Trinidad & Tobago, or St. Vincent to the north. (The neighboring Grenadines, to the north, require still another change of plane.) Yet despite this relative remoteness and an intermittent political abrasion related in the overseas press, visitors continue to come to Grenada. The island, now an independent state, is self-supporting in its food-stuffs. One senses the higher standard of living here among the islands of the Windwards & Leewards. This may account for the lessened sense of economic gap between traveler and resident national. It is, in any case, easy to be at home in Grenada. This absence of heavy tourism has left the place with much of its own flavor fully available to the visitor. Nutmeg, mace, cocoa, limes, bananas are chief crops. One of the favorite places of the Caribbean to sample the local cuisine is here, at Ross's Point Inn just on the road south of St. George's, the beautiful harbor capital, en route to the Grand Anse, one of the Caribbean's finest beaches. GUADELOUPE The experience is quiet, French-creole, scenic. There is room to move about on (680 square miles), and a range of differences between the twin islands of Grand-Terre (where Pointe-a-Pitre is, the largest city) and Basse-Terre (site of the capital of the same name). Hardly yet discovered by tourists, the islands of Guadeloupe may nevertheless quickly develop their appeal and take on some characteristics, facilities, attitudes, of the more developed tourist destinations. It is most French on Grand-Terre, more rustic on Basse-Terre. Several island depend- encies of Guadeloupe offer still fainter metropolitan and stronger Caribbean flavors: lies des Saintes, Marie-Galante and La Desirade. St. Barthelemy (St. Bart's) is island home to some 2,500 descendants of early French settlers. French St. Martin, half the island shared with Dutch Sint Maarten, is also part of the Departement of Guadeloupe. The grander scenery is on Basse-Terre to the west. A fine Creole hostelry is operated as a hotel school here and accommodates guests, Relais de la Grande Soufriere. Most of the hotels are on Grand-Terre where L'Auberge de la Vieille Tour enjoys a worldwide reputation for cuisine and charm (in Gosier). Creole meals are easily found throughout Guadeloupe. Hotel accommodations range from simple and often tasteless on the one hand, to international style, on the other. There is much to choose from that is local and well done. HAITI Favored by cognoscenti, flavored by all things local, savored by increasing thousands each year, Haiti offers an unduplicated vacation milieu. The inventiveness, vigor and sophisti- cation of the Haitian seem to be the product of generations of self-reliance and isolation, least influenced by the outside world in modern times, most characteristically authen- tic. Everywhere the Haitians are there seems a Page 54-C.R.- Vol. VII No. 1 larger-than-life presentiment of the Haitian experience. One seems to experience every- thing here more fully, often in paradox among surroundings of ongoing collapse supported by inner vigor. The experience is marked by a range of everything one is likely to encounter. Haiti is altogether a fervent expression of its culture. There is no veneer to rub off. Though experienced in tourism since the early post-War period, Haiti accommodates visitors in a variety of hotels almost all locally owned. There is a formality which bespeaks more a genuine regard for form, style and comfort than of standardized rules of dress and routine. The rules are those of hosts appropriate to their houses. It is a place where one chooses one's hotel by its personality and likely returns on another visit. It is a place best for those who are rewarded by the integrity of the places they find themselves. There opens a world of museums and galleries but where art is everywhere. Perhaps nowhere do visitors so easily meet others in friend- ships. Beaches are not easily reached from any of the hotels, and driving demands skill and endurance. The Haitians organize tours well to show off their myriad historic attractions. Their religion, food, music, dance, art and architecture are inevitably part of the vacation experience. In Port-au-Prince, just on the road up to Petionville, is the Select, a restaurant which offers the best of local cuisine at reasonable prices, Tourism is becoming more important to Haiti economically. Here if anywhere it seems possible the larger numbers can be absorbed without serious detriment to the Haitian sense of self-identity. Who can tell? JAMAICA So well-known among Caribbean resorts, Jamaica is largely unfathomed by tourism. Almost half million a year come and go home again busily comparing their experiences with WHEN IN JAMAICA, Eat at the only West Indian dinner restaurant in the West Indies PIQUET HOUSE Creole Dinners Gordon Town 7:30 and 9:30 pm sittings Friday to Sunday those of others they know who've gone. Jamaica is one of the places many people talk about but few experience. It is the tradition of the travel business that no one really wants more than a soupcon of local culture, and Jamaica's tourism administration has succeed- ed uniquely in using the tourism apparatus to advantage. The paradox is that Jamaica is its own society, experimental in the Caribbean and becoming more so. There is a sense that solutions to contemporary life are to be found among contemporary energies. While there is official doctrine that visitors are encouraged to meet with Jamaicans, it is essentially a middle class experience, while Jamaica's individuality is more the expression of the unadapted. What tourism does express here is among the best to be found in the Caribbean: charm, imagination, hospitality, diversity. Jamaican food is available everywhere except, unfortu- nately, at almost all the hotels. In Kingston, I.P.'s Catering Establishment is particularly recommended. Just about everything for a tropical vacation is to be found in Jamaica and for every state of consciousness. It may be also the place which first learns to express itself in its tourism without loss of economic gain yet with the realization of social objectives. MONTSERRAT Montserrat is Montserrat, the mood of the tourism a reflection of how Montserratians see themselves. The island is diminutive (11 miles x 7, midway between Antigua & St. Kitts 27 miles from each); no hotel tops 50 rooms and there are fewer than 400 on the island, mostly owned by local people. It is common to encounter Montserratians in all of them, as several of the places comprise much of the social scene for the islanders themselves. There is no sense of separation here, you as the visitor from the resident population. There is no choice but to accept the place as it is. Vacationers find themselves touring the countryside, visiting the bubbling volcanic fissures, walking in the port of Plymouth, the capital, lying on the beach, engaging in some light sport. Tourism has not changed the place. None of its hang-ups are experienced. The beaches are everyone's; we tend to meet each other here in our most agreeable behavior. It helps that there is no direct service from metro- politan points of origination; a change in Antigua is necessary. It is easily worth it to anyone who enjoys a local scene and cuisine. PUERTO RICO The most advanced of Caribbean tourism, Puerto Rico reflects in San Juan and the rfeighboring sections the contradictions of the industry's development throughout the region, just as it has served as a model for their extension. Urbanized, highly technical, intensely competitive, suffused with fantasy. This is the heart of mass tourism in the Caribbean, inevitably the place most in mind among discussions of the regional tourism prospect. This is where the tourism business just a few years ago became so "successful" that economically and culturally it separated itself from its surroundings. It has confirmed an alienation reflected elsewhere in the society. Yet for the all the glitter first imported here to the pivot point of the Caribbean from Miami Beach and Havana, there exists the hinterland, largely unaffected by tourism, as if hidden by the giant frontal billboard of "the strip." Here in the outlying areas a new tourism is being organized. Not only is it a reflection of indigenous values, but of change in time, of new marketing perceptions based on cultural change in the North American marketplace. This is the tourism of "parado- res," inns fixed in their local milieux, openings to the heritage. Nor do the gaudiness and gambling totally neutralize the culture and the charm of older sections of the urban area. Old San Juan is a pungent flow of neighborhoods, much in favor by sophisticates and degenerates alike. It is for all of it one of the most vibrant municipal expressions in the Caribbean. SABA, SINT EUSTATIUS, SINT MAARTEN These three islands, in the northeast Carib- bean, comprise the Windward Islands of the Netherlands Antilles. Saba and Sint Eustatius (Statia) see among the fewest tourists in the region. St. Maarten, on the other hand, is what happens when tourism happens without a governing policy. St. Maarten is tourism's frontier town in the Caribbean. Much of anything goes. Pick your fantasy. The gambling is there; the glitter; the transplanted tourist successes from Miami Beach and the Catskill Mountains. St. Maarten is what happens when for a time the tourism is "in" and then when it starts to fall "out." It is the glamour treatment, the fantasy lived on the beaches. The economy is based on the tourist. Perhaps more than any other place, this is where one has the feeling the tourist is fair game; he comes bringing the money. Yet there are a number of fine small hotels, attentive to their returning clientele. On nearby Statia and Saba, small is also the standard, small and local. Both islands have been naturally protected by their inaccessi- bility. Statia now experiences a boomlet; Saba, with a population of about 1,000, remains a rock of tranquility. On these two smaller islands the visitor appears as a guest. ST. KITTS/NEVIS/ANGUILLA Some 250 miles east southeast of San Juan, St. Kitts is site of this tripartite state from which Anguilla, to the northeast, is in a de facto state of separation. Tourism has had only minor impact throughout the three islands. While the mainly favored hotels in St. Kitts are for the most part removed from the capital of Basseterre, there exist a few in-town places characterized by West Indian hospital- ity, cuisine, and mood. With the exception of one small chain property, each is individually owned and reflects the character of the proprietors, some local, some expatriates. They range in mood from informal but sophisticated to modest and well-run, and good vacation buys. The same is true of Nevis and Anguilla, except that the latter is still more casual and scaled-down. Holidays are for being at the beach, sightseeing, and the least sophisticated enter- tainment but usually amidst much conviviali- ty. St. Kitts & Nevis are particularly beautiful; C.R. Jan/Feb/March Page 55 all three are tranquil. All three islands require connections from trunk points: Antigua, San Juan, or the U.S. Virgins. Perhaps nowhere than among these three islands is the visitor more considerately regarded and the population more responsive to such policy. ST. LUCIA The beauty of St. Lucia is offered in the marketplace as a last unspoiled place in the Caribbean. This is the backdrop message of the island tourism administration. Against it is played out a counterpoint of enclave offerings, classic example of the expatriate mentality in possession of the tourism. Hotels offer services in the grand tradition of Europe, in the massiveness of charter movements, in the mode of middle-class American standardization. The choice is all offered in the marketplace except the St. Lucian choice. Not that it isn't there and available. Rather, that there is no initiative from within to make the place known as it is outside. Here, as so frequently in the Caribbean, one encounters administrations which woo the overseas tourism apparatus in the hopes that competition in the social circuit will be successful in the delivery of tourists. But it is not a business of guilt or pity, and the advantage lies with those who spend the bigger budgets. So the charm of the place, the distinctive- ness of its creole heritage, the character of its people go largely unknown. In and around Castries, the capital, there are several guest houses and smaller hotels which bring the visitor closer in touch with the St. Lucian scene. Outside of the capital to the south the accommodations are sparse though nonethe- less available and worth the effort. Par- ticularly notable among them are Allain's for cuisine in Soufriere, entry point to St. Lucia's drive-in volcano. And further along the coast road headed south are the Pitons, twin-peaked landmark on the way to Vieux Fort where Cloud's Nest is a choice among those who seek out what is genuinely local and outstanding. One notes with encouragement that following the collapse of a major U.K. travel wholesaler which controlled not only the eastern Caribbean airline but also a number of hotels throughout the region, that two of its properties have come into new management here with new policies to integrate the life of St. Lucia into the travelers' experience. ST. VINCENT Due west of Barbados some 70 miles, the experience here for visitors is as open and uncomplicated as is likely to be found anywhere. The technology of industrial tourism has passed the place by, mainly because of an airport which accommodates only smaller-than-jet aircraft. A blessing for those who take the time to come. Proprietors of accommodations for visitors here are hosts; visitors experience themselves as guests. Such rules as exist are sensible by Vincentian standards. Informality is the key as innkeepers will convey you to town, to the airport, talk to you about anything you want to know and happy to do it. There is surprising sophistication among the hotels here, including digs for the cosmopolitan set nevertheless free of hassles. The Haddon Hotel in Kingstown offers choice West Indian cuisine, good enough that West Indians regularly stay here while on the island. St. Vincent is a natural delight, offers an active volcano, rare bird and tree-life, broad agricultural plains, mountains, greenness everywhere. Beaches are best in the Grena- dines (though there are some black sand beaches on the mainland of St. Vincent) where sea sports are a diversion for those here for untrammeled leisure. TRINIDAD & TOBAGO Tourism is a minor matter for Trinidad, and therein the stimulation of the experience. To be in Trinidad is to be suffused by the place. Wherever one walks or travels, the life of Trinidad is apparent. Whether it is to sample the roti or delight in the architecture which spans time and world influences. The pace in Port-of-Spain is quick; one senses the international relevance of what goes on here. The countryside is full of unique attractions, not the least the variety of cultures and enterprise. Neither the least, the Caroni Swamp and its scarlet ibis, and the pitch lake. One realizes how little of the inner life of Trinidad is understood from news reports of its politics. Its leadership position in the Eastern Caribbean helps put the visitor into a state of mind that what goes on here is not so much "less than" as "different." The experience is its own and to be recommended. Learning can take place. Virtually all the hotels are away from the beaches. They range from luxurious to threadbare. Much is local but not particularly distinguished by way of accommodations. There is a local cuisine for each of the population heritages, though not as easy to find as might be imagined. Tobago depends on tourism for much employment and earnings. It is tranquil, mesmerising in its beauty share and among offshore islets, as well as in the water at Bucco Reef. Hotels range from the budget to luxury. Beaches are palm-lined and un- crowded. The need to fly in from Trinidad effects a gentle restraint on the growth in tourism despite the universal enthusiasm for vacationing here. THE TURKS & CAICOS ISLANDS Lying as the easterly extension of the Bahamas, and roughly equidistant between Miami and Antigua, these islands are new to tourism with perhaps not more than 200 rooms among their 166 square miles. Their beaches are surely among the finest many spectacular made more attractive by the absence of any appreciable number of visitors. Here one feels remote, explorer. The islands are flat, here and there slightly hilly and with caves along Middle Caicos. Across the wide Caicos Bank, some 60 miles of water less than a fathom deep, fishermen catch crawfish and a wide variety of seafoods, and along the banks of the Turks grouping as well. Accommodations are in the main modest, well integrated with their environment, and charming. There is some greater sophistication to be had, as well as experiences in air-conditioned concrete block motel struc- tures. Island seafood cuisine is outstanding at the Turk's Head Inn, and as well as the Mt. Pleasant Guest House on Salt Cay (the only source of accommodations here, with five rooms). These are places for people drawn by water activities, love of simply prepared seafoods, and quietude. Hardly anywhere else are meal guests likely to exclaim, "What! lobster again? " One flies in from Miami non-stop to Grand Turk and on to South Caicos (whence non-stop to Miami again). Also from Port-au- Prince via Cap Haitien. U.S. VIRGIN ISLANDS Here the tourism has been most favored in the Caribbean. The duty-free exemption is $200 for returning U.S. citizens, double that from anywhere else. These islands of St. Thomas, St. Croix and St. John are also part of the American political entity; there is less bother for Americans to go here than most other places. The beauty of the islands and their collective aspects allow for much diversified vacationing. Water sports, outdoor living, quiet retreat socializing, golf, tennis - virtually the range of holiday experiences is to be enjoyed. But the islands have suffered also from the absence of any long-range tourism planning. This is a reflection of an altogether anomalous administration of the U.S. Virgins wherein since their sale to the U.S. by Denmark early this century a malaise has crept in and grown to overwhelming magnitude. It is the strange child of too much politics, too little exercise of democracy, the truncation of heritage. It is as if this century's accumulated administra- tion has been an activity separate from the basic interests of the general population. Yet much of the population works for Govern- ment. It is a place where the native-born have become simply one of many interest groups. One can picture a place governed by lobbyists. Quickly grown great in its tourism, the U.S. Virgins by its collapse is one of the places that has marred Caribbean tourism imagery. In the Caribbean, this is the same as affecting worldwide recognition. Vacationing here among these islands reflects much of the intensity of Caribbean experience. * Page 56 -C.R.-Vol. VII No. 1 PASANGGRAHAN is located in a quiet lush tropical garden on the beach of Philipsburg, the free-port capital of Dutch St. Maarten. Each of it's 21 attractive double rooms with private baths have overhead fans and optional air-conditioning. The kitchen is famous for a great variety of well-prepared international dishes. Total informality sets its West Indian atmosphere. Estab- lished in 1958 it is still St. Maarten's biggest little bargain and repeat visitors are the best salesmen for the hotel. Write or cable PASANGGRAHAN, St. Maar- ten. Represented in North American cities and Puerto Rico by The Jane Condon Corporation. Print where the CARIBBEAN RE VIEW is printed * 5 COLOR WEB OFFSET PRESS * CAMERA PLATE MAKING * COMPLETE BINDERY * ART WORK/LAYOUT * MACHINE COLLATING & INSERTING * SHEET FED PRESSES * COLOR SEPARATIONS * DIE CUTTING * TYPESETTING Some of our nationally known accounts: Norwegian Caribbean Lines, General Foods, Max Factor, Eastern Airlines, Disney World, Gucci, and other important local businesses. Whatever your need, contact Mr. Vincent Ravenna, Caribbean Accounts Manager 690 West 83rd Street, Hialeah, Florida, U.S.A. 33014. Telephone: (305) 822-8900. WATS line: (800) 327-5056. 690 West 83rd Street, Hialeah, Florida, U.S.A. 33014. Telephone: (305) 822-8900. WATS line: (800) 327-5056. it Cruise there with Norwegian Caribbean Lines" We go to just about every place you'd ever care to visit in the Caribbean. And on board, there's everything from d.,-.!ig to dining to almost continuous entertainment. See your travel agent. Ships' registry: Norway. M/S SC.ir-;th.i 14 d-,y Cruise: Port Antonio, Curacao, Caracas, Barbados, I .--.cinique, St.: ;,. .. St. Thomas, San Juan, N -. :. Departs from Miami throughout the i' i/S ? .. :ward ,-.y Cruise: Freeport, Montego Bay, Grand Cayman, Cozu- mel (Mexico). D- ii- from Miami throughout the summer. ' i"/S ;:-.. -y Cruise: Cap-HaYtien, San Juan, St. Thomas, Puerto FP.u DI. .. .,s from -- e- ; Saturday. M/S :5 ;:. : '.. -.::'y Cruise: Port-au-Prince, Port Antonio, Montego I' y, T.. D: from i i every Saturday. r S"ywand o "S uthwa F |
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