#DearCaribbean Blog Carnival Guide & Review

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De customs man at Piarco tell me dat de only ting dey does tek from Guyana is pineapple an’ plantain. — Thoughts of a Minibus Traveller

Mas. Jouvayists from Guyana, St. Kitts & Nevis, Antigua & Barbuda, Trinidad & Tobago, The Bahamas, Barbados, Jamaica, Haiti, Curacao, Canada, the diaspora and Nigeria. Making multi-directional crossings from and to Venezuela, India, Nigeria, Flatbush and Crown Heights, T&T, Grenada, Harlem, these repeating islands of the Caribbean.

Some sweet sweet love letters to the region. Dear Caribbean: Thank you for my big headOn being the daughter discovering the home of her descendants. Love note to the Caribbean.

Meditations on Caribbean feminisms. Feminists that don’t yet know they are feminists. The risky location of being an Indian feminist in the Caribbean. The liberatory potential of Vodou.

Ruminations on Caribbean Identity. Pineapple an’ plantain only. I am Your Daughter Too.

Home. Always Home. Again and Again.

Ukranian Lessons on Regional Integration (one of the most shared e-mas submissions published on the CODE RED blog).

Ol Mas meets Queer Caribbean Sexuality. Leslie, the lesbian doll.

The art of play. Play yaself!

Meet a Caribbean woman from Haiti, Guyana or the Bahamas. Listen to the voices of Caribbean men from St. Kitts and Nevis and Guyana.

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Poetry. Trujillonomics. Caribbean Crossings, In Motion. Basseterre Woman.

Writing. Like fine wine. Exquisite.

Art. Photography. Images.

e-mas is LOVE: radical, political, Caribbean, queer, poetic, renewing. 

Like true Caribbean people many of the jouvayists turn up on Caribbean time so quite a few entries just came in.  Giving thanks to Carla Moore and Feministing for using their wide reach to give the e-mas a boost.

If this guide was a bit too dizzying you can visit the e-mas page where you can read/watch/listen/view all the posts in the order in which they were submitted.

Use #dearCaribbean on twitter to keep the vibes flowing.

One Love.

Photo credit: amina. olayiwola

love note to the Caribbean

Guest post by Sherlina Nageer aka Lina Free

“When are you coming?” my family asks. “When are you coming?” my old friends ask. “Just now. Soon, soon! I’ll let you know.” I reply. I have yet to buy my ticket. I know that I’m a mere ghost to my nephews and niece, that my parents are getting older, that see you next time is not guaranteed, that there is still love and possibility there, that I’m abandoning career success and my cats, but I just can’t help it. You have a hold on me, Caribbean, a grip on my innards, a winch on my soul that keeps me anchored no matter how often or far I might stray. Don’t ask me to explain it; I can’t really. It’s not just the sunshine, the mangoes, the ocean. I have sat on the beach eating mangoes in other places, oui. It’s much more than that. There are days when I’m out and about, whizzing to or from someplace, and I feel myself just smiling, for no particular reason. I’ve looked at the moon more in these past four years than I did in the 20 I lived up North. It’s not just that my navel string and grandparents are buried on one particular spit of land; after all, just one generation back abandoned such trifles and crossed the Kali Pani. Indeed, emigration remains the primary story of my family, like so many in the Caribbean. They all think I’m mad for ‘coming back home’. I am more than slightly ‘touched’, oui, but I think they’re madder for remaining there. No, it’s not perfect here, not by a long shot. Not for my fellow lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, or questioning peeps, not for those slaving daily to put food on the table, and fighting the powers that be trying to downpress them. Every day is a struggle, oui, but here in the Caribbean is where I want to be battling. From the beach in Tobago where I spent my first New Years Eve after coming back, drinking too much and hugging up everybody too much, just abrim with love, to the tent cities of Port Au Prince where women bathed, bare breasted, in plain sight of every tom, dick, and harry passerby- you continue to succor as well as challenge me, Caribbean. This, I love. 

The post was submitted as part of our Dear Caribbean Blog Carnival. Please check out all the amazing submissions.