By Shelene Gomes and Nirmal Maraj
Within our current global health crisis, migration, mobility and immobility remain salient concerns. ‘Voices from the Field’ showcases student blogs on migration from an undergraduate anthropology course at The University of the West Indies.
Amid a global pandemic, international borders –fictitious yet real– have closed or are rapidly closing. Issues of mobility, immobility, and wellbeing, as well as their encumbered inequalities, remain central issues in how Covid-19 has spread. Regimes of mobility operate differently for the wealthy and poor, an ever-widening gap that is especially pernicious in the midst of the uncertainties ahead.
In a course I teach entitled Anthropology of the Peoples of the Caribbean, we trace how the history of the Caribbean is a story of movement. Prior to the defining period of European conquest in the 15th century, multicultural indigenous peoples migrated throughout the archipelago and the continent. Later, colonization, agricultural production, and forced labor importation inclusive of slavery and indentureship programs shaped these islands, giving rise to new cultural forms. Historically, the region existed, not on the periphery, but at the center of industrialization. From various types of mobility to cultural expressions, religious practices, family systems and wider belief systems; these have all been historically situated within global entanglements of power, albeit never in a unidirectional manner.
In the course, students engage in semester-long mini-ethnographies to see the world from other perspectives and, to enlist Horace Miner’s now oft-cited quote regarding anthropology, “to make the strange familiar and the familiar strange.” This is especially significant for students who come from the multicultural as well as racially segmented and integrated society of Trinidad and Tobago, and the wider, mostly English-speaking Caribbean. Here, I share excerpts from their mini-ethnographies, which cover broad themes that affect students’ and everyday Trinbagonians’ lives such as economic austerity, ethnic antagonisms, interethnic cooperation, youth activism, kinship, and labor migration.
A gay pride march in Trinidad, July 28, 2018. Photo by Scott Timcke (Twitter: @scotttimcke)
One student’s mini-ethnography, ‘No Place,’ detailed queer Trinidadians’ dreams to migrate to a country where they could potentially feel ‘normal’ rather than constantly feeling ‘abnormal.’
“I’m a black man who likes men. There is no place for me here. Do you know how it feels to have to hide who you are from everyone around you? I have to be on guard 24/7 just to make sure that I don’t slip up and let someone figure me out. I always have to be aware when I go out with my partner. Always looking around and trying not to make it look like we are together. Do you know what it’s like to be afraid that we might get attacked? You think that’s bad? My father has disowned me. I just want to be me and not worry about the consequences of being myself. Sometimes I get so frustrated that I want to scream! So yeah, going away would be better. Better than staying here.”
In a simple yet noteworthy excerpt, ‘Childhood Days,’ another student recognized the privilege of growing up with her own bedroom in her family home, rather than a shared one.
“Growing up I heard lots of stories from my uncle about his childhood days when he and his siblings had to share a bedroom and how crowded the family home became after they all grew up, got married and stayed at home with their spouses. My uncle would then remind myself [sic]and my cousins how grateful we ought to be to have our own rooms and the comfort of sleeping on a mattress all to ourselves. This motivated my uncle and his family to move to another urban locale of San Juan. My encounters with Anita and Paul, my aunt and uncle, made me realise how privileged I am to have grown up in a home where I have the comfort of sleeping in a bed that isn’t shared with my siblings. For something as simple as space, I understand how much of a luxury that could be for many.”
Another project, ‘A Caribbean microcosm in Trinidad,’ highlighted the cultural exchange of students belonging to the same religion from several Anglo-Caribbean countries.
“Tucked onto the hillside of one university campus in Trinidad, the hall of residence is a microcosm of society. Students from other Caribbean countries such as Guyana and Saint Lucia who study in Trinidad develop strong friendships, networks of academic and emotional support, foster intercultural exchange, and also reproduce intra-Caribbean stereotypes around nationality, ones that are often rooted in economic factors and migratory patterns. Mark from Guyana observed that Guyanese are seen as inferior in Trinidad: ‘Trinidadians feel their culture in this country is better than Guyana’s and the Guyanese who come are dumb and lazy’ and Saint Lucians by contrast present themselves as superior to Trinidadians: ‘Saint Lucians think they [sic] always smarter than everybody else.’ As one of the economically poorer Caribbean countries, there is a high rate of emigration from Guyana, to various destinations in the Caribbean and the Global North. Without a full tertiary educational institution in Saint Lucia, those who studied abroad for advanced degrees were either wealthier or nationally funded. In both cases, recognizing how these stereotypes emerged out of material conditions is noteworthy.”
The mountains of northern Trinidad. Photo by Scott Timcke.
Two additional student projects ‘Transnational Family Life in Indian Walk, Princes Town’ and ‘From Place to Place, Building Identity’ focused on the cross-border networks of kin who support each other morally and materially to improve their families’ lives.
“I migrated with my mom and sister at age one from Trinidad to St. Vincent. My parents had separated, and we had nowhere else to live. My mother, who is a Vincentian by birth, migrated to Trinidad for work [years before]. When I was six, we went to live with my aunt while my mom migrated to Canada in the hope of providing a better life for us. When she left Canada, we moved back to Trinidad [for me] to start university. I hoped to earn a degree and then find a stable job. I still hope so. I would say I am a multicultural person today because of these movements.”
Through these mini-ethnographies, students were developing empathy while making the analytical connections that allow them to articulate these experiences within wider social fields situated within local, global and historical contexts. We invite you to learn more about our process and our findings at ‘Doing Ethnography @ sta.’
About the authors
Shelene Gomes is a socio-cultural anthropologist in Trinidad and Tobago. Her research interests include migration, cosmopolitanism and ethnography.
Nirmal Maraj is a Teaching Assistant in Sociology at The University of the West Indies, St. Augustine campus. He has conducted research examining media discourse on violent crime and the ways various marginalized communities are represented within the media of Trinidad and Tobago.