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What a day yesterday! Molly's voice is gone and we probably had well over 6,000 people safely on and off the Amistad. Water is a challenge. Getting a deck wash is imperative for the care of the deck, but we can't use the harbor water and there isn't potable or non-potable water on the dock. The government group has offered us access to their outside tap and we are grateful. Bleach is our friend. Quentin brought in some staples for us, we needed produce for sure. Pele was turned off after lunch, although the main salon is still roasting. Barry will turn her back on for lunch today, the making of teas and coffee, then shut her down again.
After grabbing a quick bite, most of us bussed off to a special show in honour of the Amistad. The Gullah communities here are closely related to the Gullah communities in Florida, Georgia and the Carolinas and are planning great festivities in those places in 2008. It was a tremendous exhibition of talent and pageantry featuring school children, established singing groups, whole drumming ensembles, story telling through dance, acrobatic maneuvers by flexible young men and finally a glass eating thriller that I heard someone say was magic. I don't know, I saw blood. Donald George produced an impressive and well attended event and we are so happy to be involved. I thought of Paula (the student who departed in Portugal) and how much she would have enjoyed this.
It's hard on the heart strings seeing all the poverty, especially when we speak the language. I knew there had been Sierra Leonian refugees in the US who had fled the recent war, but I didn't know about the history of the people who had been enslaved and taken to the Carolinas from Sierra Leone specifically for their ability to grow rice. Over 6,000 people were taken from their lands and families over the course of less than 100 years. The slaves talents' enabled the plantation owners to create great wealth for the confederacy on the backs of these stolen men, women and children- quite literally.
Years ago I met a man who gave me my African name. I worked with Alpha (number one son) at a restaurant kitchen and he and I didn't start off on the right foot. He saw a single female with a school age child working. I was almost supporting myself financially and needed the job, but how to get along with Alpha? He would walk up behind me and smack a rubber spatula on a stainless steel table screaming, "Etta! What you doin'? Etta!" 'Bout gave me a heart attack every day. The change happened through basketball, first the NCAA in March of that year, 1986, and then the NBA playoffs. It turns out we were both Lakers fans and it was the Magic, Kareem and James Worthy show every game against Bird, Parrish and Kevin ? The Lakers won that series, thank you. Once our friendship began to grow, he told me about his homeland in Sierra Leone and coming to America to find his fortune. So, by the time we parted company, I would come up behind him with a rubber spatula, slap the table and sc!
ream, "Alpha! What you doin'? Alpha!" and he would grab another spatula, slap the table and scream "Etta!" We'd scream back and forth for a few minutes and dissolve into gales of laughter. Our bosses thought we were nuts. So, that's how I got my African name, I never thought I'd get another chance to use it, and God laughed.
Today's another day and it's gonna be another scorcher, but we're ready as we'll be. Love to my people. HK
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