La Guadeloupe d'en-France

In addition to reading the literature from the French West Indies, I've started to read some non-fiction.

Recently, I finished reading La Guadeloupe d'en-France by Robert Valérius (1). Its a book I picked up at the bookstore in Basseterre, after having asked the bookseller to recommend me something about life and culture in Guadeloupe. The book is actually far more limited in scope, analyzing specifically Guadeloupe's relationship with France, and only from mid-1940's to present. At 153 pages, there simply isn't enough pages for Valérius to discuss or analyze thoroughly; still, for someone who knows nothing about the relationship between Guadeloupe and France, this is probably all I can handle right now.

Valérius describes what is essentially a torrid love-affair between Guadeloupe and France. His book begins with the law of 1946, which transforms Guadeloupe the colony into Guadeloupe the département, making it a 'state' of France. Guadeloupeans looked upon the change in statute with hope and pride. There was hope that the new relationship with France would vastly improve living standards through economic and social intervention. And there was pride to fully assimilate as French and to become French citizens.

Problems arose when the law of 1946 does not meet the expectations of Guadeloupeans. Guadeloupeans, had, perhaps, set themselves up for disappointment. Valérius writes, "Guadeloupeans were forced to recognize that the law of 1946 had not, with a wave of the magic wand, transformed a underdeveloped country into a developed country" (2) But, part of that disappointment stemmed from the uneven application of the law. Ten years after departmentalization, considerable differences persisted between the rights of and the services due a French métropole citizen and a Guadeloupean. Additionally, neither the economic aid, nor the increase in demand for Guadeloupean exports was ever realized. Finally, Guadeloupeans lost considerable control over their own affairs in becoming a département by ceding power to the Prefecture.

This leads to the popular support amongst Guadeloupeans for a review of the law of 1946. In turn, these discussions eventually demand justification for Guadeloupe's very relationship with France. Several groups and movements arise, each supporting similar and/or opposing goals. Certain groups wanted simply the full and complete application of the law of 1946. Others wanted an altogether different statute for Guadeloupe. Still others wanted independence.

Valérius then launches into an analysis of why the second two groups fail to transform Guadeloupe into a sub-entity other than département, or as a nation. Indeed, to read his analysis is to understand that these movements were doomed to failure. I won't repeat all his arguments here, but they are largely related to the identity of Guadeloupe, and that that identity - past, present, and future - rejects an existence untethered to France.

I would make a few critiques of the book: The book could probably be improved by more rigorous editing. The organization and chaptering of the book are not readily apparent, and at times the same ideas seem to make appearances - however brief - whenever they please. Valérius also sprinkles his text liberally with abbreviations of various political groups; most go undiscussed, so seems like the sort of filler students use to pad word count. Valérius also seems to be writing specifically for a Guadeloupean audience. (This may be intentional.) At times, the events of such-and-such date, nor the consequences of such-and-such event are not made explicit. This can leave the reader a bit bewildered.

Nevertheless, the topic is fascinating. To know the history behind the relationship between Guadeloupe and France is to understand local society, culture and politics at a much deeper level.

For example, chlordecone was a pesticide heavily used on banana plantations in the French Antilles. The scandal is that, despite being banned for use in the US in 1976, the chemical was not banned in France until 1990. In addition, banana growers here requested and received a derogation and were allowed to continue using the substance for three more years. Chlordecone is carcinogenic and believed to be the cause of high cancer and infertility rate in Guadeloupe. Of course, this was about money. Without chlordecone, banana growers would have faced huge increases in production costs. Bananas produced here were already facing stiff competition from bananas produced in Africa, where labor costs were far lower. Did France turn a blind eye to the health of its overseas citizens simply for money? The answer is not so simple. France was faced with an increasingly popular independence movement (complete with extremist and violent groups) which drew its power from general dissatisfaction with decreasing living standards. Had France followed the United States in banning chlordecone, the economy of Guadeloupe - which was at the time almost completely dependent on banana production - would have suffered a serious blow. This may have tipped the scale and given the independence movement what it needed to lead a successful campaign.

Obviously, the story ends with Guadeloupe and France together, living happily ever after. Or not. Valérius ends with what is essentially a list of social and political challenges that face Guadeloupe. Most seem entirely unrelated to France. It would seem then, that Valérius is making the argument that perhaps France was, and also is, not the problem.

Believe it or not, the book made great beach reading. I am hoping to find similar books.

(1)
Valérius, Robert. La Guadeloupe d'en-France. Pointe-à-Pitre: Éditions Jasor, 2005.
ISBN 2-912594-51-0



(2) "Les Guadeloupéens étaient forcés de reconnaître que la loi de 1946 n'avait pas transformé, d'un coup de baguette magique, un pay sous-développé en pays développé" p29

Bûche de la St. Sylvestre

Stopping by to pick up a baguette, I was dazzled by the array of new year's eve logs on display at the boulangerie. Ah, yes, here, the logs are not just for Christmas, but the entire holiday season up until new years. And, why not, when they're so tasty?


Above, a chocolate log with a chocolate ganache layer, filled with apricot / passion fruit mousse, covered with dark chocolate icing.

What a tasty way to bid farewell to 2008 and to welcome 2009!

La Rue Cases Nègres

I decided a while back that I ought to read more about Guadeloupe and, in general, the Caribbean. I’ve read the history and culture bits found in the various French tourist guidebooks we have at the house. These passages are obviously very short and brief, but often offer a surprisingly insightful and honest interpretation of life here. But, these books can only offer so much. Much more useful and engaging is literature. I ambitiously began with La Case à Chine, by Raphaël Confiant, a Martinican with some Chinese ancestry. Therein lay the interest for me. But, I quickly discovered that Confiant writes with a French that requires intensive reading, or at least not the kind I could manage sitting on my terrace, or before going to bed. So, I abandoned Case à Chine, regrettably.

M. recommended something with much more classical style of narration: La Rue Cases Nègres by Joseph Zobel (1). The book is semi-autobiographical, and recounts the early life of a young boy named Joseph Hassam in Martinique. José - as he is called - lives with his grandmother, Ma’Tine, on a sugar cane plantation in the early 1900’s, during a time when Blacks were free, but kept extremely poor working on the sugar cane plantations of Whites (called békés). The title of the book - black shack alley - comes from the row of ‘houses’ where all the black laborers live. The early part of the book is mostly a description of José’s world, as well as a narration of his adventures, as seen from the point of view of a child.

In this following passage, José has discovered he can fish for little shrimps in a nearby creek while Ma’Tine works in the fields:

It was marvelous. The breathless attention which I watched my line, the acute emotion that started in my heart by the smallest movement of the buoy ... Even more wonderful, the world of the shrimps as I imagined: hills, paths and trails, fields, shacks. All of it in fresh water. Here lived translucent shrimps, the papa-shrimps, the mamas, the children, who spoke in the language of water. When I got a large shrimp, it was maybe a papa-shrimp, or a mama-shrimp returning from work. And I thought about the grief of the children, who cried inconsolably, and whose tears maybe swelled the river. When it was a little shrimp, I imagined the desolation of the its parents ... and I regretted even more those that got away, whom I feared would advise the others to stay away from the appetizing earth worm hiding my suspended hook (2).

But underneath lies the history of the miserable existence of Blacks during this time period. Ma’Tine struggles to send José to school, which she sees as the only escape from the sugar cane fields for both her grandson, and for Blacks in general. Below, José has just asked Ma’Tine why he does not go to work in the fields like the other children of Rue Cases Nègres:

Miserable boy! cried my grandmother; you would have me put you into the small bands, you too! ... Well! I should, send you to gather para (3), or spread guano, for good, like the others have done! That's what you need to know the misery and to teach you how to behave...Hum! How can it end if fathers stick their sons there in it, in the same misery (4).

The second half of the story tells of José's struggles in school, and his new life in Fort-de-France.

Its a wonderful story, and the characters are incredibly memorable. José is precocious and the reader is quickly charmed by his intelligence and sincerity. Ma' Tine is an impressive force and the reader, like José, treats her with equal parts affection and fear.

The book was adapted to film in 1983 by Euzhan Palcy. The film follows the overall plot of the book, but diverges in the details. Asked during an interview, whether or not he liked the film, Zobel answered, “I’m not sorry about the adaptation that Miss Palcy made, it’s another thing than my book, it doesn’t matter how the two were received by the public...” (5). I believe the film captures the essence of Zobel’s book. The principal actors, Garry Cadenat as José, and Darling Légitimus as Ma’ Tine are marvelous.

I was not able to find a clip of the film online, except the one below, which is not actually a clip, but a video essay by an American- or Canadian-born Taiwanese. He uses the clip to explore his own relationship with his grandparents. The clip is rather interesting on its own. The clip shows M. Médouze, an elderly laborer whom José has befriended, and who is his mentor.



(1)
Zobel, Joseph. La Rue Cases-Nègres. Paris: Présence Africaine, 1974.




(2) “C'était merveilleux. L'attention haletante avec laquelle je surveillais la ligne, l'émotion aiguë lancée au coeur par le plus insensible mouvement du flotteur...Plus merveilleux encore, le monde des crevettes tel que j'imaginais: des mornes, des sentiers et des traces, des champs, des cases. Le tout en eau claire. Là vivaient les crevettes translucides, les papas-crevettes, les mamans, les enfants, qui parlaient en langage d'eau. Quand j'en avais pris une grosse, c'était peut-être un papa, ou une maman qui revenait du travail. Et je songeais au chagrin de leurs enfants qui pleureraient inconsolablement, et dont les larmes feraient peut-être grossir la rivière. Quand c'était une petite, je me représentais la désolation de ses parents ... et je regrettais d'autant plus celles que je manquais, que je redoutais qu'elles n'aillent conseiller aux autres de se méfier de mon hameçon suspendu sous l'apparence d'un appétissant ver de terre.”- p84 Éditions Présence Africaine, 1974.

(3) I am not sure what para is, and so cannot translate it. It is maybe creole. If I find out, I will edit this.

(4) "Petit misérable! s'écria ma grand-mère; tu voudrais que je te fiche dans les petites-bandes, toi aussi! ... Eh bé! j'aurais dû, pour de bon, t'envoyer ramasser du para, ou mettre du guano, comme ont fait les autres! C'est ce quíl faudrait pour connaitre la misère et apprendre à te comporter...Hein! comment cela pourrait-il finir si les pères y foutent leurs fils là-dedans, dans la même malheur?" - p79 Editions Présence Africaine, 1974.

(5) "Je ne regrette pas l'adaptation qu'en a fait mademoiselle Palcy, c'est autre chose que mon livre, peu m'importe la manière dont les deux ont été reçus par le public..." Interview with Simone DUMAS

Plage de Malendure

One of the beaches where M. and I go with some frequency is the the beach of Malendure, in the village of Bouillante. Its a lovely little black sand beach with calm waters. M. has done most of his dives here, in the waters around les îlets Pigeon, within eyesight of the beach. Les îlets Pigeon - bits of land just peeking above the water - are incredibly accessible and supports abundant sea life.

Like all black sand beaches, the sand absorbs and retains the heat from the sun with incredible efficiency. I like to lay my blanket down underneath the coco trees for a bit of shade. The only problem is that many of the coco trees are still quite young, and so, there can be a bit of competition for a spot, especially on Sundays, and especially during high season. But, we've always managed to find a good shady spot.

My favorite part about coming to Malendure, though, is lunch. We always have a bokit. I was a bit lost as to how to describe a bokit. Michelin guide describes it as "a sort of large donut, stuffed with vegetables, cod, or anything you want, like a sub" (1). But, I find that definition incredibly vague, not to mention unappetizing (a fish-stuffed donut, anyone?). I think the Michelin definition reflects the lack of imagination of the French when it comes to sandwiches; anything that isn't made with a baguette is not quite a sandwich.

Above, my bokit, most likely made with white flour, lard, eggs, butter, and stuffed with shredded rotisserie chicken, lettuce, sliced tomatoes, hot sauce (hot sauce optional).

Anyway, I finally realized that a bokit is quite similar to naan, but instead of being baked, it is deep fried. The similarities between the two are probably no coincidence, as much of the food here has been influenced by Indians who immigrated here at the end of the 19th century.


Above, Chez Hubert.

We buy our bokits from the yellow sandwich truck, 'Chez Hubert,' reviewed in the 2007 edition of Petit Futé. I've never actually seen Hubert, its maybe his wife or sister who runs a one-woman sandwich show. The wait can be long, but so very worth it.

*UPDATE* (April 8, 2009) Hubert no longer operates from the yellow truck, and has constructed a free standing restaurant. There is still seating at the 'counter' but this is now supplemented by a few tables. The bokits are still just as good, and the wait just as long.


(1) bokit: sorte de gros beignet fourré de légumes, de morue ou de tout ce qu'on veut à la manière des pans-bagnats



Plage de Malendure
Black sand beach, lined with coco trees, located in a small bay. The water is calm, and waves are relatively small. The beach is very popular with tourists as a number of diving clubs and a few glass bottom boats depart from Malendure for the îlets Pigeon.
Location: Pigeon/Bouillante (Basse Terre)
Parking: Ample parking in front of the tourist office, directly in front of the beach (note that the parking lot has been sectioned in two by some of the food trucks); parking along the road.
Food: A few restaurants; Numerous food shacks and food trucks selling a variety of sandwiches, salads, soft drinks, etc. Sheltered picnic tables along the beach.
Public Showers: Yes, one of five that has yet to be vandalized, located on the side of the tourist office.
Public Restrooms: Yes, located on the other side of the tourist office. The ladies room is locked when the tourist office is closed.

Almond Croissant

As if it were not enough that the local boulangerie makes a triumphant baguette. Here is their almond croissant:

I assumed it was just a croissant with slivered almonds on top. But, its much more substantial as it is filled with frangipane, a sort of almond paste - I love suprises like that! The tips were crisp and flaky (no mean feat on this humid island), and the middle soft and a bit chewy from the almond. And since its a chilly 26°C (79°F) at sundown, I had my almond croissant with a lovely cup of Mariage Frères christmas tea, a gift from this holiday season.

My Colombo

Above, a closeup of my colombo.

A typical dish from the French West Indies is Colombo. Colombo is a meat dish that is simmered in a sauce flavored by colombo. Colombo is not one single spice, but actually a mixture of spices, with varying quantities of coriander, turmeric and cumin. My 250g bag of Colombo powder, purchased at the supermarket, also has powdered corn, hot peppers, fenugreek, ginger. A variety of meat can be used, the most common being chicken, pork, and goat. The dish is prepared with vegetables, and like colombo powder itself, varies depending on the cook. If colombo looks and tastes similar to Indian cuisine, it is because its origins are Indian. Colombo is the fusion of Indian cuisine, brought here by indentured Indian workers who came to the French West Indies after slavery was abolished, with local flavors.

I think a gauge of successful adaptation is the ability to cook local cuisine well. And so I've embarked upon a mission to cook a great colombo.

I've based my colombo on a short recipe that I found in a booklet on Antillais cuisine that M. bought upon his arrival. This particular recipe calls for the following ingredients: 500g lean pork, cut into pieces; 5 green onions; 1 clove of garlic, crushed; thyme; 1 large tablespoon of colombo powder, a pepper; and, according to the season, eggplant, christophine (chayote), green mangoes, and potatoes, cut into pieces.

The first time I made colombo, I used chunks of pork loin and 2 eggplants, following the directions fairly closely. It did not come out well. The second half of the recipe calls for simmering the meat and eggplants for 30-45 minutes, at the end of which, the chunks of eggplant had dissolved into skin and seeds. The sauce was too liquid-y.

The second time I made colombo, I used only 1 eggplant, and added a potato. I didn't follow the recipe anymore and cooked it as I would. It came out fairly well. I ended up with a good thick sauce, but very little of it.

This is the third time I've made colombo, and I think I've made some vast improvements to the form. Still one eggplant, but instead of the potato, I used chunks of igname (a local yam). I also added 1 christophine.


Above, my most recent attempt at colombo de porc. Yes, that is a wok. I cook with what I have.

Now that I've got the main ingredients and the cooking method down, I'll start working on the taste. I used fresh thyme the first two times, as I have for all the Antillais dishes I've made, but found that dried 'herbes de provence' actually gives a much stronger flavor. I started with one or two peppers, but now have increased the quantity to 4 or 5. Since there is already ginger in the powder, I think I may add some fresh ginger to the colombo next time. The green mango is supposed to add an acid note to the dish, which I think is lacking in mine. I'm not sure where I might procure a green mango, but, I've seen a recipe replacing the green mango with a Granny Smith apple. I might just add some tomatoes.

According to M., the colombo tastes great, and on par with the colombo at his local canteen. I have to admit that while I think it tastes good, I don't think it tastes great. I'm not sure if its the ratio of spices in my colombo powder, or if its a lack of some ingredient, or maybe I just don't like colombo. I do like Indian curry, though, so I think I just have to work at it.

I imagine myself one day, serving my colombo to my new Guadeloupean friends, and being congratulated on a colombo that is tastier than their grandmas ever made. May and her triumphant colombo...

Since I don't actually have any Guadeloupean friends yet, I still have some time to perfect my colombo.

Bill Likes Christmas in New York

(click on the image to see the slideshow)

Bill Cunningham of the NYTimes agrees with me about 5th Avenue at Christmas time. Its a lovely slideshow with beautiful images of Christmas weekend in New York.