Paul H Williams, Sunday Gleaner Writer
Storm clouds linger over the sea at Manchioneal while empty canoes strewn on the beach wait for their next fishing journey.- photos by Ian Allen/Staff Photographer
AT AN earlier time in the evolution of the Portland coastal landscape, the seaside town of Manchioneal must have been quite picturesque, and the native Tainos must have lived a life of wild abandon, frolicking in the crystal-clear waters and hunting for animals and fruits in the surrounding hills.
Now, the town, a blight on the natural beauty of the parish, is literally a rural slum. Life there is at a standstill. Fishing, which is the main income-earning activity, is on hold since Tropical Storm Gustav belched its fury two weeks ago.
furious times
Since then, many other storm systems have been lingering, and so are the residents. They are biding their time, waiting to see when the canoes can set out to sea - the supplier of their needs, although at times suddenly becoming furious, lashing and flooding everything in its path.
Manchioneal, named after manchineel trees, is a place where poverty walks on two legs, terrorising the hapless residents. On Wednesday, when The Sunday Gleaner visited, it was there to welcome us. The residents did not hold back from telling what it was doing to them. But most heart-rending was how it was preventing a mother of eight from combing her hair. She cannot afford to buy a comb.
High on a hill overlooking the town, on a shop piazza, there were shirtless men playing dominoes and card games. Mongrel dogs came in the light drizzle to greet us. The men played and bantered with each other. It was an atmosphere of 'What else to do'? The men and one woman, the shopkeeper, bemoan the lack of attention from local authorities, and the clear and present danger that they face in trying times.
Signs of Gustav's brief sojourn were everywhere. He must have been a very strong man. Giant breadfruit trees lay broken in pieces; decades of supplying residents with their yellow-heart fruits had suddenly come to an abrupt end.
where have the girls gone?
But, where have all the young girls gone? To Kingston, everyone. Where have all the young men gone? To soldiers' camp, everyone. Those who remain, like the ones playing games, just live one day at a time. Yet, among them talent abounds.
And for the The Sunday Gleaner, a brief concert was held. The performances were delightful. Javis Bennett and Simroy Burnett thrilled the small audience, on whose skin goose pimples were forced to appear. Simroy and Javis can outsing the current Rising Stars any day. And it seems like what they might have to do, while they wait on the hill beside the sea, is to sing for their supper.
Simroy Burnet (right) thrills the small audience, while the soft Portland breeze whistles in the distance.
Residents of Manchioneal vent their anger at the authorities for ignoring their plight.
