Two Times Removed, Two Times Feeling Moved: Indo-Caribbean stories highlighted
I felt quite seen while reading two collections of short stories and I tell you why, from a French Caribbean lens.
I’m not trying out to do a word play here. Words come out actually with an unusual flow. The title came in my imagination after reading the two volumes of Two Times Removed, two collections of short stories, curated and edited by Tiara Jade Chutkhan, an Indo Caribbean bookworm and blogger, who was born and raised in Canada. I mentioned it in my last article below.
But I wanted to write something specific about this reading, about how it made me feel. And maybe give you reasons to read them all, as well.
First, these are Indo Caribbean descents who wrote the majority of the short stories.
Both volumes of Two Times Removed were written by Indo Caribbean authors. It partly explains why I was drawn to this reading. I was born and raised in Guadeloupe islands and growing up, I had a hard time finding Indo Caribbean writers and books, something that would have been nourishing and informative about this part of my blended identity. I found out lately about other Caribbean islands like Trinidad and Tobago for example and I guess it’s about the community size, as well. Long story short, I barely had access to the knowledge connected to my Indo Caribbean roots, except in a few convos with my family, especially my two grandmas and aunties and through… food. I swear, it’s a pretty big vector of history and stories! Lol.
Then, I liked the collective work principle.
Curating a book, arranging stories, editing, rewriting, proofreading… not an easy process I guess, but I spent some time picturing the long hours, days, even months it must have taken to give birth to these anthologies.
Well, that said, creating a space with plural voices is definitely an interesting approach. Even if there was a common thread, every story has its own taste because every author interpreted the central theme with a special seasoning. A rewarding process. It made me reflect a lot, enriching my vision, opinions and convictions about my own self-discovery, embracing-my-identity-journey.
I giggled, I smiled, I nodded and I willfully avoided one of the stories.
In short: I felt moved. Some could say that I had an emotional experience while reading the majority of the stories. That’s the beauty of having an entry ticket to different worlds and experiences. It even felt more or less intimate at times. And yet…
A French Caribbean lens (mine) kicks in here:
I don’t mean to do an exhaustive comparative list here (growing up with a hyphenated identity in France vs. in the US/Canada).
I could relate to some parts of the experiences described by the characters displayed in the short stories. And yet, a lot of issues felt foreign to me.
Evolving in an English-speaking culture — which means in my mind that you come from a former British colony is far different from growing up in a French-speaking one. Because of History, SURE. Putting aside the fact our French islands are still… French, ethnicity is a banned word in the data world. That one example — among many others I won’t go into here — speaks volumes about our world view is shaped. How could one could assess “representation” with watertight evidence? Indo Caribbeans belong to a minority in Guadeloupe and Martinique.
No spoiler there, I promise. But I have in mind the character in one of the short stories who look through archives, to get clues about her ancestors. It reminded me my experience. One day, I went to the biggest history museum on our archipelago, in Guadeloupe. I had trouble to get access to archives that could foster knowledge about my ancestors. Some pictures, here and there, but nothing tangible about the research by names for example. It seems to me that it’s much more advanced in other Caribbean islands. To get things balanced a bit, I know a Guadeloupean cultural center dedicated to Indian culture have been erected on our islands by an association, in the north of Grande-Terre, one of the two main islands in our archipelago (and I haven’t visited it yet).
In my view, one of our main issues, as displayed in the book, isn’t our relationships with Indian people. It’s about being identified as a Guadeloupean or Martinican when you’re “abroad”, especially in France, while being an Indo Caribbean. Numbers game here: we’re more easily associated to Reunion island — which is French as well — in the Indian Ocean, because of its history and proximity with India.
These are the main differences I noticed. And for this mere reason I find my reading so interesting. I still have so much to learn about the Caribbean region and the Indo Caribbean part of my identity.
Kala Pani, I “sea” you Grandma (sorry not sorry for the rotten wordplay)
I had already heard about Kala Pani, but I had to Google it again for writing this piece. I invite you to do the same because I don’t feel legitimate to talk further about it.
My takeaway is that it resonated with me, reminding me Mamie (my maternal grandma). She used to ramble about her own grandmother who arrived when she was 7, from one of the convoys’ ships during the indentureship period, in Guadeloupe. After Mamie passed away, her ashes were scattered in the sea, on our coasts as she wanted. That’s why it felt symbolic to me to read about Kala Pani. There’s definitely something spiritual with water in our islands. Not only because it belongs to the four elements, but for the goddesses, gods, legends and myths we associate to ocean and water in general. I keep thinking while writing, to Manman Dlo, a mythic creature who lives in water in our stories (I need to do some research to go further about this topic).
One for the go: Indo-Caribbean representation is no more on the sidelines
These collective works are self-published, which I find amazing, especially since the volume 1 has been released during pandemic. A praiseworthy choice, from my French Caribbean lens (again). I say so because in France we have a smaller market and much more traditional. As a matter of fact, I don’t have an evidence-based opinion. It would have been interesting to get Chutkhan’s point of view of the subject.
Two Times Removed breaks down the barriers, redefining the Indo Caribbean literature, and shedding light on voices worth of being heard… and moved to places of their own choice.
