THERE is no better group of women in our society to highlight the racial and class divide in the Bahamas than straw vendors in the downtown straw market.
Every time there is a flare up over the straw market, I observe with great interest the way in which people express their views about vendors.
The typical debate reveals an undercurrent of classism and race consciousness that exists inside our society. It is not something Bahamians like to acknowledge or discuss critically, but it is a very pervasive condition, I would dare say, deserving our critical attention.
Last week Prime Minister Hubert Ingraham tabled the Straw Market Authority Regulations 2011, a list of strict rules to govern the operation of the new market. The bill was debated in the House of Assembly this week. If the proposed regulations are passed, vendors would have to be well-groomed, appropriately attired, and use proper hygiene products “to avoid high offensive body odour.” They would not be allowed to display rude or disorderly behaviour, or solicit customers off the streets – but rather “allow visitors to shop around freely when and where they wish, without any interference.”
Under the new regulations, sexual, verbal and physical harassment would be strictly banned, and vendors would not be allowed to sell counterfeit brand-name goods. Vendors would only be allowed to wear Bahamian printed clothing or other similar national attire. I am excited to hear what exactly is “Bahamian printed clothing,” because if the government is talking about Androsia, as far as I am concerned that is no more Bahamian than Tommy Hilfiger. The Ministry
of Tourism would vehemently disagree.
Androsia is a Bahamas-inspired artistic fabric manufactured in Andros by a Canadian family. It is a beautiful fabric, but I wonder how it became the national fabric in the minds of some Bahamians. If not Androsia or Bahama Hand Prints, a competing brand of cloth, I wonder if they are speaking about non-specific clothes once they are plastered with Bahamian national symbols. Who knows?
All in all I believe the new regulations reflect a modern civilizing mission which would be fine if not for some of the assumptions that underlie this attempt, particularly as it relates to the perception of market women as lacking etiquette and proper behaviour. Bahamians say they are sick and tired of the “undisciplined, rude, offensive and lawless” behaviour of straw vendors. They say it is “time to bring order and decorum to the straw market.” Some feel we have “accepted smelly, pushy and downright rude for far too long now,” and it is about time we start “raising our standards again.”
Deacon Huyler expressed his opinion of the “foul odour” of some vendors stating: “The common straw vendor are stink Gussy Mae’s, with foul armpits, stink hair and breath, greasy face, rough feet, slipper dragging, and rank smelling. It’s the Government’s building and they are right in saying what they did, comply or get out!”
Deacon Huyler’s views are so problematic for me I do not even know where to begin. For one, they do not represent a racially neutral commentary based on an objective observation. They are loaded generalisations harking back to an era long before the black power movement birthed the idea that black is beautiful.
They reminded me that in the eyes of society there is no dignity in being a black woman, especially if you come from a certain area, look a particular way or occupy a certain profession. For all that we may not like about the attitude and culture of straw vendors, they are still our mothers, sisters, aunts and family and they deserve some common decency.
After reading many comments on the matter I asked myself a question: What is the difference between white businessmen, dressed in business suits, totting briefcases in the stock market and black Bahamian business women carrying baskets in the straw market? I wondered if influential Wall Street businessmen are ever told about their “smelly, pushy and downright rude” attitudes, and when they are critiqued whether they are demeaned at the same time.
I reflected on my experiences travelling around the world, visiting various types of markets in different countries, and I thought that perhaps there is an inherent hustle-and-bustle culture that goes with markets. Although it is a culture that makes some people uncomfortable, even threatened, I wondered if people who simply lack an understanding, appreciation or respect for market culture need to get over themselves.
People who sell in markets have a quality of assertiveness and aggression based on the fiercely competitive nature of the space. It is the same anywhere you go in the world. So what makes Bahamian straw vendors worthy of such extreme rebuke?
Deacon Huyler’s tone and demeaning intent reflects the decades of racial conditioning that created a synonymous relationship between blackness and beauty or a lack thereof, blackness and cleanliness, blackness and one’s level of civilization. The only thing missing from the commentary was a statement about the unsightly nappy hair of the vendors. To me, the commentary says that the “rough feet” of a hard working, hard heeled Bahamian gal is a national embarrassment and disgrace. It is not a lament on the frustrations of managing oily skin in a hot climate or controlling the global problem of obesity; it says there is something less about the quality of a black woman’s skin or a black woman’s shape.
It says that to simply be a “common straw vendor” is a national offence. It says that black women have no concept of proper behaviour and etiquette. Of course this message is consistently reinforced by mainstream society, but no one wants to be honest about this prevailing ideology that exists the world over; no one wants to accept that many Bahamians operate based on this ideology of superiority when it comes to understanding cultural nuances. It automatically robs black people of their dignity, and although low-income black people are burdened the most with these stigmas, it is something that affects even the most educated and professional amongst us.
Another online Tribune reader, Generalcrazy, expressed his views on straw vendors stating: “Look, most of them are ghetto folk, and yes in general ghetto folk smell bad, many use Discipline or Florentine for Christ’s sake to wash their clothes; many use Joy to bathe with, have Talcom powder up to their neck, unknown amounts of smelly grease on their heads, and just generally keep their place nasty – that is why it is called ghetto. Just take one look at the communities they live in, loan nastiness, Fox Hill, Kemp Road, etc. Drive these areas at 3am and it smells like mange dog, urine, and dead rat, soon as you leave those areas the smell goes away. Add to the fact that many eat greasy smelly fish and catch dirty jitneys and walk around in the heat.” First of all: I wonder what a person, with these kinds of views, is doing in “the ghetto” at three o’clock in the morning. Are they looking for a “bookie” or a little “black nookie”, or perhaps for a dealer in certain herbs? Why not do like many Bahamians, who drive the extra mile just to avoid interfacing with “the ghetto”.
Generalcrazy brings to mind the dilemma of blackness. Even though the age-old stigma reflects a false reality; it is powerful enough to cause many black people to go to great trouble and expense to run away from their blackness; to do everything in their power to establish a mode of being that is more in line with standards of white society; and to propagate the lie that blackness is of no consequence, whether socially, economically, culturally, spiritually, politically, historically or otherwise. Most black people do this under the guise of economic empowerment and educational advancement, but there is much more to the picture than what meets the eyes.
Some black people will disassociate themselves from their family, their childhood communities, and their heritage just to escape the stigma of blackness. Through a process of acculturation they become indistinguishable from those other black folk. They adopt an attitude of superiority and participate in the cultural marginalisation of their brothers and sisters.
They find an outlet to express any feeling of affinity towards their family through art, literature, cultural shows and historical nostalgia. So as the debate rages on about the Straw Market Authority Regulations 2011, and the politicians continue to profess how valuable straw vendors are to our national heritage, and all of the other niceties, I will try to be encouraged that at least in my eyes, there is dignity in being a market woman. And that the resistance against the stigma of blackness still lives on. Though we may not be able to identify with straw vendors or like their swagger, I believe they deserve their dignity and our respect.
Pan-African writer and cultural critic Khalila Nicolls is currently a practicing journalist in The Bahamas.