Local time passes and brings change, alas not always for the better!

[dropcap]A[/dropcap]nyone strolling or driving along the streets of Beausejour, Gros Islet is likely to come across young boys on bicycles hurriedly en route to some mysterious location. Recently, while driving, I encountered a group much larger than I had seen before. They dispersed as I drove by. Seeing them reminded me of bygone times when I played cricket, hide and seek, and catchers in my grandmother’s backyard—actually, in the entire block within which she lives in Entrepot. As I drove past those boys at Beausejour I wondered: Is growing up in Saint Lucia today different from when I was a child, say, 15 years ago?

Based on what I remember, I’d answer yes, though not entirely. While millennials (born between 1982 and 2004) may enjoy reminiscing over a Saint Lucian childhood where school recesses were for things like ring games, jump rope, Chinese skip and catchers, at home we spent just as much time seated in front of TV sets as Generation Z might spend at their laptops, Ipads and cell phones. And, like the kids in Beausejour, we came out occasionally.

I also find it funny when I hear friends, still in their 20s, complain about secondary school students loitering in Castries when, in our time, say, 10 years ago, we did precisely the same. But it seems the normal thing to do—another elusive part of human nature—to discuss generational gaps like schisms. People seem to derive perverse pleasure from drawing attention to all the great and wonderful things they did when they were children; the wonderful traditions that have fallen through the cracks; the once common knowledge now totally unknown to today’s young majority. The idea that the older ones just might be responsible for the underscored shortcomings couldn’t be further from their minds. If the past had turned bad, it had to be everyone else’s fault. Not theirs.

Whenever there’s a serious discussion about how people have changed, the word culture is mentioned. Baby Boomers and Generation X-ers (born between 1945 and the 1960s, and the 1960s and 1980s, respectively) fume over the skimpy bras, panties and men’s briefs commonly paraded at carnival jump-ups. They recall the good old days when people respected themselves and one another and always dressed modestly, even at carnival activities: opaque loose t-shirts, and ankle length trousers and dresses were worn as carnival costumes back in their day.

But, right before our eyes, another tide is turning. Thongs have for years been a trend, but surely the thinning triangle and box-cut fabrics that barely cover lady bits crept in within this decade. So did the circular jewels just large enough to conceal female nipples, leaving the rest of the breast exposed. But, like an unstoppable train plummeting down the tracks, the transition is a spectacle that no one has the balls to intercept—if indeed they want it intercepted at all.

During a local radio show on Monday, a man called in to talk about how calypso in Saint Lucia has lost its prestige. He complained that Soca music had taken the reins and, hey, the caller was on the button. Of late, anyone turning on the radio or attending a tent in the hope of being treated to witty lyrics is courting disappointment. Kaiso just ain’t what it used to be. Soca is what’s hot. Along with Dennery Segment, Dub, R&B—even Hip Hop. But who will have the guts to close the portals that pour foreign sounds down our ears?

As for our “traditions”: dead and dying. Whatever happened to Labour Day, that came and went last Tuesday with barely a whimper? Older Saint Lucians complained after the fact. According to the wise ones on Street Vibes, no one remembers anymore the early fight for workers’ rights; the changing from sixteen to eight hour workdays; the demand for safe working conditions; the calls on employers for healthy job environments. It seemed Saint Lucians had decided to sleep away the Labour Day holiday.

However, when I asked a group of Saint Lucians, all under the age of 25, whether they had ever witnessed Labour Day celebrations, or had been taught about the day’s significance locally, I got a resounding no. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it.  Thankfully, not all things wither with time. Over the weekend, some old, charming photos of Saint Lucia were posted to the internet via a popular website. One featured the Castries market in the 1950s. Unlike the demise of Labour Day celebrations, noted one commentator, the Castries market hadn’t changed a bit; it “looked exactly the same as back then”. If you look at the photo carefully, however, while the buildings may not have changed much, the congestion of vehicles, piles of litter, clogged drains, vagrants and cracked pavements are of relatively recent vintage. William Peter Boulevard actually looks the worse for wear—evidence that too many of us live only to say how bad things have become over the years, with no one taking responsibility for the rot.