September 2023

My Mum’s cousin Sam got married the day after my birthday so on the actual day was the Maticoor, a Hindu ceremony with the brides family. In the morning I got a lovely surprise and in the day my Dad treated me to a heated belt (chronic pain babes get it) before we got ready for the Maticoor. I was outside in this amazing air bnb staying with the brides parents, Naana and siblings, and Uncle homey came to ask me what I want for breakfast. He held my hand and led me inside and to my surprise there was a big balloon, cake, flowers and a pile of pancakes on a table in the middle. Happy Birthday songs by Terry Gajraj were playing on Uncs phone and we all had a dance around the kitchen. One by one everyone fed me a piece of cake, including baby Adiya. Never had that happen before and it was just so fun to have a dance and laugh with family. They knew that we would be busy with the Maticoor in the evening so they wanted to make me feel special. The funny (and sad) thing is Dad had gone out for a run so he missed the whole thing! I’ll share more about the wedding next month as well as the rest of our time in NYC, but for now here is me looking cute in my traditional clothes and mehndi (henna) and some illustrations to capture our memories. 

July 2022 I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia after a couple years of suspecting I had it. I made this illustration to show how annoying the pain I experience all over my body is. The smallest tap or press can feel badly bruised and. I tweeted “why is it that I can sit for 3+ hours of a tattoo without any reaction yet a small tap can  make me wince in pain” Someone asked their NHS worker friend and apparently its because when you get a tattoo your body creates adrenaline to cope with the sensation whereas part of Fibromyalgia is where your nervous system reacts to pain/touch in an extreme way, your brain doesnt know how to process the pain receptors and so it goes on high alert. I dont know if this is worded correctly but that is my main experience and understanding of it.  

I know I havent come into my full power yet but I love that I can use my artistic skills and how my brain works to illustrate chronic pain in a way that many people can relate it. Its a very special and privileged feeling despite the stresses of disability, it makes me proud. When I have drawn my pelvis on fire for Ankylosing Spondylitis people said thats exactly how they feel and they struggle to explain it to others, when I made somewhat of an Infographic about ADHD + Endometriosis + PMDD, people said it connected dots for their experience. Now that I drew part of how Fibromyalgia feels, I have had a similar reaction and it really means so much to me. It is my power to be able to express my human experiences whether thats Depression and Anxiety, Autism and ADHD or my physical disabilities. This is my power as an artist. It is so easy for me to be consumed not only with chronic pain but thoughts of the abilities and independence I have lost, but in this moment I want to appreciate and revel in this ability I am so proud of.

I jumped at the opportunity to be able to make some public art in my local borough, not far from where one of my boys lives. I was lucky enough to get accepted and soon after went to meet Kiani, who came to Edmonton from Pakistan in 1999, at his shop. I could see he serviced the local community in many ways from money sending, key cutting, clothing alterations, tech repairs and more. He spoke about how much he loves the diversity of London and his customers, saying he learnt how to say numbers in Turkish to connect with some of them deeper. He wanted something bold and colourful, uplifting and fun for everyone, showcasing his business especially related to gadgets and technology. 

I guess I missed the mark initially as I came up with a concept inspired by the languages spoken by people in Upper Edmonton. According to Kiani as well as the 2011 Census there are people who speak Turkish, Polish, Somali, Kurdish, Tamil, Urdu and French from African countries. I thought it would be cool to have different words which meant community or togetherness, so this design was very text heavy, and light on the technology. I could tell he didnt like any of my designs, which was a bit demoralising at first, but this is part of the job when working with/for someone in the community. Plus many people dont have the language or confidence to talk about art because of the elite art world being exclusionary and intimidating. 

I was stressing out as I wanted to do a good job not only for Kiani but also the community itself. This is an area which gets a lot of bad stereotypes in comparison to the affluent places in my borough, with a lower life expectancy. The point of this whole project called Fore Street Art Gallery is to uplift the area with colourful artworks. By having the shop shutters be a canvas, unifying the high street at all hours of the night, Fore Street itself becomes a gallery. 

My mum suggested I draw a still life as I was struggling to think of a creative way to represent technology, which was clearly what he was most proud of and wanted to push. I didnt want to disappoint him, I created a still life and another where floating tech and gadgets were in a South Asian inspired frame. Im so glad that he liked the still life as I personally love still lifes and have been trying to introduce them more into my practice (ie my Sex Worker Still Life). As well as all the gadgets, I wanted to include red thread to represent the clothes alterations in store, as well as global currency and a key for the key cutting side of his business. I like having easter eggs and small details, but I had to be aware that this was being put up by someone else, so I tried to limit myself. The colours of the currency are inspired by flags of countries whose languages I wasnt able to include but still wanted to have that connection to. N18 to the World is the title which shows how this shop in N18 connects to people across the globe and across Edmonton. 

A month or two later it was painted on his shop shutters. He said he is happy and that the shop feels uplifted. I hope it brings a smile to his face. I cant wait to go see it with all my mates as well, Im so lucky to have their support and suggestions to apply for things like this.

My Mum rejected her culture because of trauma and wanting to be free from gendered and cultural expectations, her hand was forced because of favouritism not in her favour. Music and religion and culture that was forced on her felt oppressive and didnt come from a place of love or respect. She saw London as freedom, experiencing art and music and fashion which resonated with her and helped her find herself in this weird world. Her parents are proud of where they come from, but theyre also proud to have been colonised by the british, so as much as they did religious events, ate Guyanese food and watched Bollywood films they were quick to wear western clothes and assimilate (probably due to self preservation in this racist nation in the 60s/70s). 2018 was the first time us grandchildren really sat down with them and asked about their lives and families. Its been slow progress since, trying to connect to our Indo-Guyanese-ness. 

Reading this article by Poet Rajiv Mohabir called A Queer Relearning Hindustani, it is interesting and in a weird way reassuring that even with two Guyanese parents, with immigration and assimilation culture can be lost. Just because something is lost doesnt mean it cant be found again. Rajiv has written a book called Anti-Man: A Hybrid Memoir (Anti-man is a homophobic slur in the Caribbean) and is about his experience with race and sexuality in an Indo-Guyanese context. I have yet to read it but it is on my list. As soon as I saw this article, especially as my journey to learning Hindi began in February, I knew it would be meaningful. 

As far as Hindi, My Nana (maternal Grandpa) learnt it at Hindi school, which was after english (colonial) school. He thinks in English, can write and read it but doesnt have as much confidence conversing. Nan never formally learnt Hindi, but her Aja (paternal grandpa) was known as teacher and spoke 5 languages: English, Hindi, Urdu, Bhojpuri Sanskrit and Telugu. When they were growing up in Guyana their elders spoke Hindi, or Bhojpuri, but in school and in general it was English they were surrounded by. Change and assimilation was happening in Guyana as well as decades later in England. My mum remembers words from her childhood and can count to 5. 

Enough about me! Rajiv talks about learning Standard Hindi at age 15, which connected him to his Aji (paternal grandma). He “learned about the concept of kin and time that bound us together. I learned the right way to greet my elders; how to remove the evil eye of unkind aunts; what songs to sing at the birth of my siblings’ children; how to pray for the dead. I learned that there are folk traditions and songs for every aspect of life, and that as a poet I was able to transpose these into new contexts, given my migrations from London, to Florida, to New York, to Honolulu, to Auburn, to Boston, and now to Boulder.”

I relate a lot to what Rajiv mentions about learning about India from white people. Where white people have the freedom and privilege to go an study in India, study deeply about language, art, religion/spirituality or whatever it may be. How when white people learn Hindi for example they are revered and respected but these languages were shamed, beaten, or Christianised out of us over generations. When our ancestors came to Guyana and other colonies, they spoke many dialects. 

Rajiv says “When we came to the Western Hemisphere we were Coolies from the rural and poor parts of India, a region now known today as South Asia. We spoke various languages: Tamil, Telegu, Adivasi languages, Punjabi, Maithili, Awadhi, Bhojpuri, and Urdu. In the distopia of the cane field, when we lived in the logies, or barracks, given to us by our colonial masters we developed our own language, a koine language based on Bhojpuri. Later this language we would refer to as “broken Hindi.” This reflects a deeper damage, a deeper brokenness. We have become “broken” people. According to Surrender Gambhir’s 1980’s study in my father’s own natal village of Crabwood Creek, he notes in his dissertation, “The East Indian Speech Community in Guyana: A Sociolinguistic Study with Special Reference to Koine Formation,” that when local Indo-Guyanese started to watch Bollywood films, exported to the colonies, they faced a kind of linguistic insecurity that fragmented them, reified the British admonition to forego Caribbean Hindi for English as they believed it was not a real, legitimate language.”

The article ends with a queer chutney lyrics he has written, and it starts in Hindi, then in Chutney (Chutney is a genre of Indo-Caribbean music, so is written with a West Indian voice) and finally in English. It is about queerness and in the introduction to it he mentioned instruments such as dantaal, dholak and harmonium which you may recognise from my March 2023 newsletter. I love the idea of Queer Indo-Caribbean folk music and will dream about it. 

Gina invited me to come to a film screening with her called Dal Puri Diaspora at The Museum of London Docklands, a site of historic importance in the global timeline of british colonialism. This warehouse was a place that industrialised and streamlined the processing of items pillaged and stolen from across the empire where it could then be moved on to be sold, while ships went back out into the world to repeat the cycle again and again.

My one and only connection to Guyana throughout my life has beem the food my Nan cooked for us, not music, or films or traditions and religion, but the food: chicken curry, roti, dal puri and pholourie. This film really showcased and explored Indo-Caribbean history which many of us dont know about, through food, flavours and travels. 

This film was by Richard Fung from Trinidad and Tobago who was researching to origins of Dal Puri (a type of roti which has ground up mixture inside). It was awesome to see someone so passionate about this delicious food, not giving up until he found answers to his questions. 

This filmmaker went to India, specifically Bihar and Eastern Utter Pradesh who share the language of Bhojpuri as well as cuisine. These parts of India are where a large amount of Indian Indentured labourers came from, although people all over India came. Me and Gina know that our Nana’s (maternal grandpa) Dads side of the family was from Bihar. In India, Richard met a food historian who spoke to him about all the kinds of flat breads that were popular. Many of these flatbreads in India are made with brown flour, whereas in the Caribbean white flour was imported from USA to enslaved people which continued as Indentured labourers arrived. He went from cook to chef, trying many different types of flat breads in search of something which resembles the coveted Dhal Puri he loves.

In ancient times Bihar cultivated sugar, the word sugar comes from Sanskrit शर्करा (śarkarā), meaning "ground or candied sugar," originally "grit, gravel.” I had no idea that Bihar is now one of India’s poorest regions, but it used to have the first university (Nalanda) in the 5th century AD and was where Buddha began the journey to understand human suffering. Then the british pumped opium into Bihar, paying farmers to stop growing indigenous crops and start producing opium (I assume part of the Opium Wars with China where they pushed the drug and got populations hooked on it). 

He went to Mauritius where there is also an Indian Indentured community, where Dhal Puri is a popular street food, but also seen at weddings. My boy H agreed and said when he was there for a few months earlier in the year he had it every day for lunch. In India, where it is solely a home cooked dish, it is more common to have Dhal Puri at the end of the month at the full moon which is why Richard had a hard time finding it in restaurants and street food vendors. 

The women adapted, experimented, improvised and explored the ingredients both what they took with them from India but also what they had access to in their new countries. They packed up the Jahaji Bundles (cloth bag tied on the end of a wooden stick) with mango, tamarind, herbs and spices. Jahaji means shipmates and relates to those who shared the journey from India across the globe to plantation societies.

Richard Fung went from Trinidad, to Canada, to India and Mauritius to find the root of Dhal Puri, but he realised that the Caribbean version is not a copy, but its own original interpretation. One thing I have noticed is how recipes and ingredients are adapted to include what people have access to in their new homes, this creates new kinds of dishes which may seem familiar but are distinct in their own way. I got emotional watching this, where so much love and appreciation was shown towards one aspect of Indo-Caribbean culture. Food brings communities and cultures together. Over the years, so much change has happened not just in the Caribbean and diaspora but also in India - economically, cultrually, socially, so maybe the dish cant be found there anymore but has remained in the Caribbean. This is true for certain Bhojpuri words (shoutout Cutlass Magazine for the education) where words are no longer used in India but are common in the diaspora to this day. Grateful for people who share knowledge, I have been trying to connect with my living guyanese elders (as you can see from some of the new words I learned last month) but I need to be more brave and reach out/absorb otehr resources without shame. Im glad I have Gina to explore with and feel supported and inspired by.

For the past couples weeks I have been in Guyana with my brother and two cousins, visiting our Mum’s place of birth for the first time. I knew it would not be possible to write and process and collate everything from this trip in time to include it in this months newsletter so here is a cute postcard I drew in the meantime. Funnily enough, when I tried to find postcards to send my loved ones, the shop keeper told me no one buys them anymore so she didnt have much stock. I bought all 11 of the unfortunately average postcard designs she had to offer including Stoerbrook Market and St George’s Cathedral and the nicer animal themed ones with Jaguar, Harpy Eagle and Cock of the Rock bird or Kaieteur Falls. 

I wanted to create a classic design which shows some of the things Guyana has to offer such as Kaieteur Falls, the worlds largest single drop waterfall, sugar cane representing Demerara Brown sugar, Pepperpot, the national dish created by our Indigenous people, the Jaguar our national animal and a Victoria Amazonica, the worlds second largest water lily. Guyana is known as the land of many waters (this is what Guyana means in Amerindian), with many waterfalls and three main rivers, Essequibo, Demerara and Berbice. It is also called the Land of Giants, having so many giant species of animal including giant otters, giant ant eaters, arapaima (worlds largest fresh water fish), capybara, giant armadillo, harpy eagles, Victoria Amazonia waterlily and jaguars. There are over 800 species of birds in Guyana and 900+ species of fish. Culturally Guyana is part of the Caribbean, as it connects to other english speaking parts of this location of the world through british colonialism. Geographically Guyana is in South America, at the top next to Venezuela, and Suriname and French Guiana, above Brazil. This means we are a small part of the Amazon Rainforest, with pristine protected rainforest. 

The incredible sights we saw, the foods we tasted, the people we met, the things we experienced will stay with me forever. Even though I know we will be back, it felt like a once in a lifetime trip. I hope you enjoy seeing my Amerindian Heritage Month highlights and hold tight for a complete run down of this epic trip in next months newsletter.

Our first hotel was opposite the Amerindian Heritage Centre so we went in to ask where we could buy some crafts and there was actually an amazing shop right there filled with beautiful woven plates and pots, paintings of nature, jewellery made of seeds and beads as well as natural cooking and beauty products. 

I initially bought myself a lil pink and purple woven pot as well as a beaded bracelet with a green parrot on it, which reminded me of the green parakeets which fly all over London. I asked Mum to pick out a necklace she liked and of course she chose a large big cat beaded statement necklace. We went back a few weeks later and unfortunately (for me) but fortunately for the shop/makers, most of what I wanted was sold out due to an increase in visitors to the country because of the Caribbean Premier League cricket tournament. We chose a different big cat necklace for Mum and I couldn’t resist getting myself a Guyana flag inspired necklace on the way out. 

The cotton pouch I purchased from Wichabai Ranch, made by Bethany San, one of their neighbours in Awarewaunau. I had just seen how cotton was spun and wanted something made with the same material and process. On the way back to Lethem we stopped off at Joans Craft Store where I purchased a brightly coloured more simple beaded necklace. I wouldnt usually buy something with all the colours but I fell in love with this one. 

30ish mins away from Wichabai Ranch we met Nickolas of the Wapishana/ Wapichan people. We entered a bush island (large mass of trees in the middle of the savannah) where people have their farms. He had cassava, papaya, four kinds of peppers, plantain, potatoes and other stuff i cant remember. Gina cut down some plantain and we followed Nickolas around while he grabbed chilli peppers. We got to a tree which he cut down and then shook the roots where there were loads of cassava. Gina got on the back of his motorbike back to his house and we got in the 4x4 to join them. His house was made up of 3 parts, all roof thatched with dried ita palm leaves. The first was open, had three sections for chilling and eating, the next building was his bedroom and the third was a kitchen. He had two outhouses and a roof with no walls where there were turtles living. He has pigs, cows and goes fishing, he caught the fish we had for lunch the night before. To make the cassava bread first you had to peel off the rough skin around it, making sure its completely white/cream with no brown/black bits so that the flour is pure. Once it has all been washed, it is ground using a grinding machine with an engine motor on it, Nickolas did this so we didnt hurt ourselves. Once ground it has to be processed so the cyanide is removed, first step is putting the substance in a Matapee, a large cylindrical woven shape which squeezes all the liquid cyanide out of it. It takes a two goes, after the first one you add starch which is crumbled over another woven square sieve and then put it back through the Matapee. The Matapee is hung on a stick from the ceiling and then leveraged through a hole in the floor, Gina sat on it to weigh it down so more cyanide liquid runs out. It comes out of the Matapee solid, looking like a massive banana with the weave imprinted on it. Then it gets crumbled up and ready to place inside a metal circle (part of an old bicycle wheel) on a massive frying pan made in brazil with a fire underneath. He showed us how to pour the flour onto the pan using a woven fan, neatly making sure the circle is filled. Its left to fry for less than ten minutes, then it can be flipped. Its a crunchy, almost popcorn like texture. Nickolas carved an H with his knife and i made two hearts, josh wrote J + Z and G drew a sad cat. Josh made the next bread, when it was flipped over i drew a big skull in the middle, Nickolas said im an expert and was impressed with my skills! That felt so good as i was nervous to try in the first place. Hanecdote logo in the South Rupununi! 

After lunch, Vanessa showed me and Gina how to spin the cotton. We had picked some white and brown (baboon) cotton which grew wild outside with Nickolas earlier and he briefly showed us some bobbins already with cotton spun around it. 

You pick off a cloudy puff of cotton, then open it apart so that the seeds can be taken out. Do this repeatedly and then the Flurry clouds are pieced together to form a pile. The pile is pulled apart so that is is in a ring like donut shape, which is then hung on a stick and tapped lightly so that the fibres merge together. Then tear the donut apart so it is a long snake shape and wrap it around you arm. The bobbin is a small circle made of turtle shell with a stick running through it, and a small piece of melted wax at the end with a single tooth of a comb stuck poking out.

You spin the bobbin with one hand while pulling the loose cotton from above in a long string (easier said than done for a beginning like me) with the other hand. With technique and practice, you get rid of the clumps and thick clouds while a long thin strand is being formed between your own hand and the bobbin. Once this is done the thread needs to be doubled up, so the process is repeated on a different bobbin. Afterwards they are hooked onto a third bobbin, and span together creating a twice as thick cotton strand strong enough to make hammocks and other items. 

Vanessa said a lot of heritage traditions havent been learned by the next generation who want to use technology or get work in different industries. At Amerindian Heritage Month there is a push in schoolS to do bow and arrows, spinning cotton, making a sweet cassava drink etc. Vanessa and Nickolas learnt from their grandparents these traditions and have been doing it since they were young. It was a privilege for them to share this knowledge with us. After the demonstration I tried my best but it took such hand eye coordination and i was embarrassingly bad. Vanessa was such a master and me and Nickolas actually bonded over the magic of this process and our respect for her). I really felt honoured to see Vanessa work her magic and get the opportunity to see the process of a raw materiel from a plant being made into fibre to thread to be weaved into a textiles. 

Halfway from the South Rupununi Savannah to the Iwokrama Rainforest on our 5+ hour drive we stopped off at Rock View Lodge, which funnily enough was my second choice to stay at behind Iwokrama River Lodge (which was two hours more north, the reason I went with it as the drive was long back to Georgetown). So it was nice but also intimidating to visit as it looked perfect, serene and beautiful. I was thinking have I made the right decision here?! We were welcomed by the family who run Rock View Lodge and their Wedge-Capped Capuchin monkey called Piccolo, to a wonderful lunch and fresh juices (plum was my favourite). They provided a room for us to use the facilities and as soon as we got there I noticed some beautiful embroideries all over the room. 

My favourite part of these embroideries is that they represent everyday tasks from cooking, hunting and making crafts. It also portrays the history of their people within the landscape and local nature. This inspires me as my artwork has featured everyday objects heavily and is the type of art I am drawn to. Its a great opportunity for me to be able to see this in a different context, with the native flora and fauna as well as traditions. 

I cant wait to go back to tak it the wonderful environment they have created as well as to hopefully purchase some of my own embroideries to add to my textile collection. For now I figured I would share some examples alongside my other Amerindian Heritage Month highlights.