A friend of mine announced to a group of us that she was going home to build her coffin. Our response was naturally one of alarm. We knew that she was retiring from work, but was this her way of telling us that she was suffering from some terminal illness? It turned out that this was not the case. Enterprising soul that she was always known to be, our friend simply intended saving herself what she deemed to be exorbitant funeral costs.
Furthermore, our friend extended an invitation to us: once her project was completed, we could each come and write whatever we wanted on the coffin. That way, we would avoid the cost of sympathy cards. Talk about economic measures! And creative thinking as well!
A somewhat macabre example above, admittedly. But while we wait for the economics experts to come up with answers that actually work, we, Barbadians, are going to have to find ways to survive by being as creative as we used to be in days past when resources were even scarcer.
Some of the few measures I suggest below may seem a bit over the top, but with a degree of imagination and, perhaps just the right amount of desperation, they just may work.
For example, how about some “white-head” bush for scrubbing? That’s what we used for cleaning the desks at elementary schools as well as the floors at home. And never were desks and floors cleaner. Or some plain white vinegar for cleaning just about anything in the house? The cost of cleaning agents, like everything else, keeps skyrocketing.
How about redefining the one-pot idea? In some neighbourhoods, some families have food to cook but no gas, while others have gas but no food to cook. What if these neighbours could share their resources and the two families eat from the same pot? Many of us grew up in communities where we shared everything: butter, “lard-oil,” ground provisions, fruit, shoe polish, and just about anything that was used to run a household.
What about some used car tyres to make shoes or sandals? I’m not trying to be ridiculous. My grandfather and others used to wear them. The soles were made from the outer tyre and the straps from the inner tubing. Why can’t such footwear be worn now? Isn’t rubber used to make the soles of store-bought shoes? Go ahead and dismiss the idea until somebody from over in away takes it and makes it fashionable to wear “Balata” shoes! (The other name for rubber was “balata,” though I don’t know why)
The needle worker in every community needs to put in her appearance again. Buy a few yards of material and get the garment made. Of course needle workers would have to mend their own ways and not hand over the garment to the nervous and impatient customer just minutes before the actual event.
The Barbados Community College turns out fashion designers every year or two. Let’s invest the money used for Miami shopping trips into developing the businesses of our highly talented young people.
Incidentally, I was in the height of fashion a short while ago when I wore an outfit, designed by a BCC graduate, to an official function. The outfit was a combination of linen and good old-time crocus-bag (now re-christened “burlap”).
In addition to the above, I can think of a cost-cutting measure that should bring about an immediate saving on foreign exchange: ban the false hair; the ubiquitous weave. That our women persist in wearing this commodity that is Asian, Caucasian and everything else but Black is a sheer absurdity. I am told that some women even refuse to leave home without that “hair” attached. What does that tell us about how we see ourselves? Call it what you will, but the psychological damage from enslavement remains. Ban the weave, save foreign exchange and save our Black women their self-respect. Savings all round.
The measures above are just a few ideas I’ve used to stir our imagination. We can use all our energy complaining (and there is just cause for speaking out at times), or we can look to see how to survive until situations improve. The suggestions above certainly make for greater community spirit and a cleaner environment.
Perhaps most important, these hard times may well rid us of the dangerous, self-defeating sense of entitlement we have developed and, at the same time, trigger the tremendous creative ability that we really do have as a people.
• Esther Phillips is an educator, poet and editor of BIM: Arts For The 21st Century.
