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LIFESTYLE: JAMES FULLER
Iremember the first time I met Elsie, who was on her
doorstep, as she greeted a naïve English lad fresh from
the airport many years ago. “Welcome Jayyyymes, I’m
Elsie Gopaul. Welcome to my home and to Trinidad.
I hope you’ll be very happy here.”
‘A character’ is how many describe her. I’ve been writing
this column for the better part of ten years and, as this will
be my last, it feels appropriate to write about someone who
became a big part of my love for the Caribbean. We should
all take time to celebrate the characters in our lives – those
special, ordinary people who
make life and its passing more
meaningful and enjoyable. So
Elsie, this one’s for you.
It became apparent to me
The
early on that dance, mango and
family were central to my future
mother-in-law’s life, even if her
GOOD
love affair with dance wasn’t
immediately reciprocated.
At the Christmas prize-giving
following one formative year
PEOPLE
of dance, she was awarded the
ambiguously titled trophy of
‘Most Persistent’.
in life
Widowed at an early age and
left with four daughters to raise,
Elsie had suffered misfortunes,
but still her default was fun. You
weren’t long into a chat with
Elsie before you were laughing
at one of life’s absurdities.
“Oh my gosh Jaymes,
Living
I remember ah nex’ story
from when I was small,” Elsie lif
recounted as we sat on her
porch. “I remember this one
time when my father had
bought a cattle. It was raining and I had to go move it
from one spot to the nex’. As I untie the rope, the cattle
started to pull and run. Well, my foot get tangle up in de
rope, and it drag meeee.” Elsie turned to me with a look
of utter horror, hand to mouth. “Oh how it drag meeee
Jayyyymmmmes, on my bottom, 30, 40 feet or more.
And the place tick wid all kinda twigs and scrub...”
One of her happiest places was the garden. Every
morning she would rise before dawn and be picking,
plucking, sowing and hoeing by daybreak, singing as she
went. Her mango trees were a source of near obsessive
pleasure. Like a mother hears her baby’s cry above all else,
so Elsie could discern the thud of a fallen Julie from any
other noise. In the midst of an in-depth phone call about
a ‘neighbour daughter problem husband’, her ear would
twitch, her head turn, and in a blur she would be gone,
leaving conversations hanging and callers talking to thin
air. Time was of the essence, because birds coveted mango
nearl uch as she did.
As newlyweds, my wife and
I lived briefly with Elsie. One
day, she married a conversation
about how it was time we
got our own place with a
demonstration of how to split
a coconut with a long-handled
axe. She talked me through the
splitting process as she threw
the axe blade high and brought
it down on the coconut resting
on the path: “Thwack.”
Dressed in her housedress,
this diminutive woman was
a vision quite at odds with
the lumberjack strength she
displayed. The axe was nearly
as big as her, but the speed and
unerring accuracy with which
she delivered chop after savage
chop convinced me that it
was indeed time to check the
rental ads.
I have a picture that shows
Elsie and me on the porch at
her brother’s house. I’m clearly
struggling to make a point, a
smile breaking out on my face;
Elsie is already mid-laugh – that wonderful, scandalous
laugh. I have no idea what we were discussing – it scarcely
matters – but it’s how I will remember her always, because
I recently received a phone call bearing bad news.
“Elsie pass,” said my cousin. Two words that marked
the end of a life that, for me, represented a substantial
part of what I held dear about the Caribbean. She
was dancing just three weeks before the end, ‘most
persistently’ I like to think. ●
“WE SHOULD ALL TAKE TIME TO CELEBRATE THE CHARACTERS IN OUR LIVES – THOSE SPECIAL,
ORDINARY PEOPLE THAT MAKE LIFE AND ITS PASSING MORE MEANINGFUL AND ENJOYABLE”
96 | ZiNG CARIBBEAN www.liat.com | January - February 2020