Peters Hope – Recollections

IT IS SO EASY in this Silly Season period to get caught up with the silliness that prevails. In one of the on-line papers, I believe, I saw a caption that read “Prime Minister says SVG is on a path to First World status through SATB”.

I read the piece that accompanied it which just did not make sense to me. We, who are near to the bottom of the Caribbean ladder!

Today, Wednesday, as I write there was a discussion on radio, claiming that workers at the Security Services here are among the lowest paid in the region.

One caller reminded them that generally our workers are the lowest paid in the region. There are other startling realities that make mockery of our being on a path to “first world status”, whatever that means today. Then there was a threatening storm raging on the high seas of the social media. There were also references to the PM as “King of the Caribbean”. I am not sure the PM will see this as a compliment for it suggests that we are subjects. What came to my mind was the African Proverb to which I have attached my own meaning. “When elephants fight the grass gets trampled; but when elephants make love, the grass also gets trampled.” What is however dangerous is the assumption by one who is not by any stretch of the imagination an elephant, believing that he is. I have decided however to leave these issues for another time.

Some time, in 1990 I believe, I had done a piece on Peters Hope, a year after the then government of James Mitchell had acquired the Mt. Wynne and Peters Hope estates from the trustees of the estates of F. A Casson. It was part of their effort to diversify the country’s economy through eco-tourism in view of the proposed creation of the European Union and later the World Trade Organisation.

Peters Hope has a special interest for me. As young primary school boys, we journeyed to Peters Hope beach looking for tamarinds and if I remember well, sea grapes. I was particularly excited when our Geography school texts carried photographs of the excellent terracing done at Peters Hope. When Mr Leslie Durrant assumed management of the Peters Hope estate in 1980, I often had discussions with him about the estate.

In 1972 in a CADEC sponsored lecture at the UWI PM Mitchell argued about the need to integrate our tourism with agriculture. That was a common talking point in the region in the 1970s and 1980s. It appears to me that today there is not much talk about that combination/ that integration.

Then, of course in 1977 when I left my post at the Grammar School to become Coordinator of the Caribbean Conference of Churches/ SVG Christian Council Glebe Development Project I lived at Peters Hope. There were only three houses there then.

The one in which I lived belonged to Fitzroy Dowers who was married to one of the daughters of Edmund and Estelle Joachim. The Joachim’s lived at the top of the hill and directly opposite a small house belonging to one Mars. At the time I lived there the estate only had a few employees planting mainly tobacco. When the 20 or 30 workers left at 4 pm there was total silence, broken by the occasional passing of a vehicle. My first night there was something else with absolute silence

around, living there alone.

There was no running water at the house, but a tank that collected rain water which I used for bathing and flushing the toilets.

Daily I brought drinking water and water for cooking from Barrouallie. During the day I was at the Glebe helping to organise the community, building farmers and fisher groups and youth groups. On that fateful Easter morning in 1979, I got out of bed, turned on my radio and heard Don Bobb talking about a volcanic eruption. I dismissed it and wondered why he was joking so early in the morning since there was no prior information about an impending eruption. When I got to Barrouallie about two hours later, I realised something strange was happening because the Park was filled with hundreds of people, who I later realised came from Lower Leeward. I visited some of the centres that were being organised to feed and house people dislocated from their communities.

Later in the afternoon, I went back to Peters Hope, decided to take a nap but left my bedroom window open. About two hours later I got up and realised that my bedroom floor had a great amount of ash. I got dressed to go over to Barrouallie and did the stupidest of things, attempting to turn on the wiper of my car. That was it. I was unable to see anything and so moved back into the house.

I devoted my time assisting at the Secondary School centre. After a few days with no reports of any further eruptions, the doctor from Buccament who was one of the persons in charge of the Centres, invited some of us to a beach lime at Peters Hope. As the afternoon turned into evening, we went to his residence dancing to music played by Nina Maloney who was usually doing so all night at the radio station. After a while someone went outside and ran back in, informing us that there was an eruption in progress. I used the doctor’s phone and informed Nina Maloney who then made a public announcement.

Along with the others I believe I spent the night at the doctor’s residence.

After three years I refused to renew my contract because of political pressure brought on my work. It was felt by one of the leaders of the Christian Council that I had only resigned my job at the Grammar School because I had an interest in contesting the next general elections. He made things difficult for me to perform my job. I refused to renew my contract and decided to continue my education. I however have fond memories of Peters Hope and of the people at the Glebe in Barrouallie.

_ Dr Adrian Fraser is a social commentator and historian

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