Don’t Call Me Antillaise!

Saint Lucia Pitons

Photo credit: https://live.staticflickr.com/4416/37345845246_a3b80c9ec7_b.jpg

Lately, I've been thinking more and more about identity and how it affects how people relate to and understand each other.

While reflecting on my time in Martinique, I quickly realised that inasmuch as there were many similarities between Martiniquan and Saint Lucian cultures and history, we are in fact quite different.

It should come as no surprise that there are many aspects of a Martiniquan upbringing which I could never ever relate to as a Saint Lucian woman.

This is why it becomes quite frustrating having to explain over and over again the differences between our cultures, politics, languages and society to metropolitan French people who are always quick to offer up: « Mais c'est la même chose ! » (English translation: “But, it’s the same thing!”) when I offer up that I am in fact Caribéenne (from the Anglophone Caribbean) and not Antillaise (from the French Caribbean).

But, before I can even attempt to explain the differences between an Antillais and a Caribéen, I have to quickly address both France and Great Britain's 'colonial past'.

Colonialism

After ruling over a number of territories around the world during the Transatlantic Slave Trade, France decided to no longer refer to them as colonies, but instead as either DOMs (département d'outre mer or Overseas Department in English), TOMs (territoire d'outre-mer or Overseas Territories in English), or COMs (collectivité d'outre-mer or overseas collectivities in English).

Therefore, even though Guadeloupe, Martinique, French Guiana, Mayotte and Réunion are not part of mainland France, their residents are legally French citizens and “benefit” from many of the same privileges as people who were born in and reside in mainland France.

On the other hand, many of Great Britain’s former territories are independent nation-states, with the exception of a few BOTs (British Overseas Territories). However, unlike the residents of DOM/TOMs, BOT residents are not necessarily “entitled” to British citizenship (Commonwealth Immigrants Act 1968).

Thus, the majority of former British colonies in the Caribbean are independent nation-states, even though many are members of the Commonwealth, still have the Queen as the Head of State and adhere to many archaic British laws.

But, what else makes us different?

Culturally speaking, growing up in Saint Lucia meant waking up to a neighbour blasting 'I Didn't Jump the Fence' by Red Sovine on Sunday mornings. However, in Martinique, it was most likely a hit song off of Kassav’s repertoire.

Furthermore, the majority of Antillais are obsessed with going on hikes. I cannot tell you the number of hike requests I got (and refused) while living in Martinique. Countless work colleagues would go out of their way to invite me to their community so we could hike up some random mountain for 2-4 hours on a Sunday (start time 6am!).

Moreover, when it comes to carnival celebrations, it came as quite a shock to me to see men in Martinique clad in very high heels, fishnet stockings and slutty nurse outfits during Mardi Gras and a number of Carnival fetes. Needless to say, I had never experienced such a thing back home.

In terms of cuisine, although we all eat a lot of the same ground provisions, prepare delicious red snapper for lunch and eat accras as if it were the end of the world, Antillais cuisine incorporates a lot of French cuisine (someone say escargot at Christmas Eve dinner?), while in the Anglophone Caribbean, we tend to mix it up with British and North American dishes.

Linguistically, we obviously don't speak the same European languages. Antillais speak and learn French at school, while in the Anglophone Caribbean we speak English. However, people from Saint Lucia, Dominica, Haiti, Martinique, Guadeloupe, French Guiana and Saint Martin all speak a French-based Creole. Yet, I quickly found out that each territory has its unique accent, vocabulary, gestures, stresses and even moment for speaking their French-based Creole.

In fact, in Saint Lucia we have dedicated an entire day to celebrating our creole heritage, i.e. Jounen Kwéyòl. A cultural aspect which many of my former colleagues found intriguing since speaking Créole in Les Antilles (The Francophone Caribbean) is such a natural everyday occurrence.

Takeaway

Although these differences may seem quite minuscule and maybe even unnecessary to point out to some of you, for those of us who grew up on these islands, these differences are what make us unique and appreciative of our cultures and historical backgrounds. It’s so amazing to think that Martinique is a 15-minute plane ride away from Saint Lucia, yet somehow feels and looks so different.

This is why I always have to remind myself not to assume things about someone’s homeland or culture when interacting with him/her/them for the first time. Hearing about someone’s cultural background directly from his/her/their own mouth always leads to such deep and insightful conversations.

As I continue to reflect on the many aspects of my identity which continue to influence me, I hope that reading this article will lead others to stop making assumptions and instead start engaging in respectful conversations with individuals who are socially, economically, physically, emotionally, culturally, racially, sexually, geographically and politically different from themselves.