In this episode with our guest Manuela Latchoumaya, we explore the intersections of la francophonie and indenture by discussing being Indo-Guadeloupean and living in Europe, at the heart of empire.
Manuela is a PhD researcher in Sociology and Politics at the University of Manchester in the UK. In her PhD, she focuses on the emergence of South Asian identities in the French public space, looking at how French South Asians, both those with an indenture background and those whose families migrated to France through more recent waves of migration, mobilise against State racism. Her academic and personal interests include questions of identity, belonging and exclusion and have been shaped by her experiences as an Indo-Guadeloupean woman both in the Caribbean and in Europe.
In this episode with our guest Dr. Natasha Bissonauth, we discuss being of Indo-Mauritian heritage and growing up anglo in South Shore/Rive-Sud nestled in francophone Québec.
Dr. Natasha Bissonauth joins the Visual Art and Art History department at York University (Toronto, ON). Prior to, she was Assistant Professor at the College of Wooster (OH) in Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies. Her research centers on contemporary artists of color, queer and feminist art-making in particular situated in contemporary global visual cultures. With an emphasis on South Asian and South Asian transnational circuits of art, select artist interviews, exhibition reviews, and book reviews include Art Asia Pacific, Art India, C Magazine, and Women + Performance. Peer-reviewed articles include “Zanele Muholi’s Affective Appeal to Act” (Photography & Culture, 2014) and “Sunil Gupta’s Sun City: An Exercise in Camping Orientalism” (Art Journal; 2019). Recent publication includes a book chapter on how Chitra Ganesh’s speculative aesthetic intervenes in museum display (2020). She also published an article in South Asia journal on the artwork of Sa’dia Rehman titled, “The Dissent of Play: Lotahs in the Museum,” where Bissonauth lays out her ideas on play as a form of aesthetic dissent. New research interests include examining the role of the speculative in the study of indenture studies.
In this part of the series, we’ll be exploring the Francophonie and indenture descendants.
When people think of indenture, there is often an emphasis on the anglophone Caribbean Trinidad and Guyana with indenture occurring under British rule. However, indenture also occurred with French colonialism, but most people around the world are not familiar with indenture, let alone indenture in francophone settings.
But what is the Francophonie?
While being an official international organization of states and regions touched by the French language, it is also a French term that refers to more or less the same countries and regions. The countries and regions range from Québec and New Brunswick in North America to Lebanon and Tunisia in SWANA, Switzerland and Belgium in Europe, Madagascar and Cameroon in Africa and Vietnam in Asia. Interestingly, official Francophonie members include Romania, Greece and Bulgaria, countries not commonly associated with the French language. The French language is spoken almost as widely as English across the globe, and the vastness of the two languages is rooted in colonialism. None of my ancestors in my bloodlines were English, but why am I writing in English? I live as a settler in Lenapehoeking but I do not speak Lenape. Our language choices and learning are shaped by varied forms of colonialism.
In the case of indenture, the French language is unique, because the French trafficked bodies through indenture, but there is the example of Mauritius, an African island in the Indian Ocean, where the island was a French colony until it was seized by the British in 1810. With that timeline, indenture occurred under British subjection, with the island receiving nearly 700,000 South Asians[1]. And today, Mauritians are trilingual, speaking English, French and French-based Mauritian Creole. And returning to indenture in French colonies, many of the former indenture sites remain Overseas Departments (provinces) of France, but really colonies, including Guadeloupe, Martinique and French Guiana in the Caribbean, which respectively received at least 45,844[2], 25,509[3]and 19,276[4] people taken from South Asia. Back to African islands in the Indian Ocean, Reunion received at least 37,000[5].
In this part of the series, we will be exploring the connections and complexities of identity, belonging and the nuanced relationships with South Asia with guests in diaspora with ancestries from francophone indenture sites, but also those with anglophone indenture histories who settled in francophone settings, something not commonly known to larger anglophone indenture diasporas in the Greater Toronto Area or New York City. Of course, none of our guests are spokespersons for all of those with their specific identities, and their experiences may be different from others. But learning their experiences, we can nuance our understandings of those descending from indenture, and what that looks like around the world.
Throughout these episodes you will commonly come across the terms “anglo” and “franco,” commonly used terms in francophone Canada to refer to individuals who are primarily English-speakers or anglophones and French-speakers or francophones. Of course, there are many anglos and francos who are multilingual.
History of Indenture in French Guadeloupe
Before beginning this project, I did not realize current French possessions in the Caribbean were recipients of indentured bodies. It has been very eye-opening to explore indenture in the francophone Caribbean more. I find there is not the same scholarship that exists immensely for anglophone counterparts. In fact, it is very hard to find articles about South Asian indenture and their descendants in the francophone Caribbean. This is also something that prompted my study of French-based creole, particularly Guadeloupean Creole, with Guadeloupe having the largest indenture descendant population of France’s Overseas Departments in the Caribbean.
Indenture in the French Caribbean began similarly to the British Caribbean and other colonies around the world, as a response to the economic disruptions with the end of slavery. The French Revolution brought the Declaration of Rights, Man and Citizen in 1789 and the ideas of liberté, egalité et fraternité (liberty, equality and brotherhood), and when news finally reached the Caribbean some four to six weeks later, many believed this applied to enslaved Blacks who would gain the title of “free people of colour.” In the case of Guadeloupe, these recently freed Blacks came together to fight against the British who would have re-enslaved them with the intended capture of the island during the fall of the French monarchy. Ultimately, Napoleon’s French government re-established slavery, and it was not until 1848 that slavery was fully abolished.[6]
Seeking to quell disruptions to the sugar industry, the French imported the first trafficked bodies from South Asia in December 1854 aboard the vessel Aurèlie. The last legal shipment of indentured South Asians arrived in Guadeloupe in May of 1889.[7]
90% of South Asian migration to the Caribbean under indenture came from northern parts of the European imagination and creation of India. However, in the case of the French Caribbean, the majority were taken from French possessions, which today would be in South India, most notably Pondicherry.[8] Today, Puducherry is a Union Territory that was ceded to the State of India in 1962, and it includes the four former French possessions of Pondichéry, Karikal, Mahé and Yanan, covering two different coasts, with some separated by a distance by far as 700 km.[9]Of the roughly 45,000 people taken by traffickers from South Asia, at least 31,000 were specifically from South India, with the rest from British possessions in the north, departing from Calcutta.[10] It is important to recognize that these people were linguistically, ethnically and culturally diverse.
Indenture has shaped the Caribbean in more ways than we can imagine. Almost two hundred years after the first indentured bodies arrived in the French Caribbean, we can still trace essential parts of franco Caribbean culture back to South Asia. One example is colombo, a celebrated dish in Guadeloupe, Martinique and Guyane or French Guiana. Colombo is a curry with vegetables and meat, the cousin of the common curry found from Guyana and Trinidad to Barbados and Saint Vincent. I must say cousin and not sibling because of certain differences in preparation. The most distinct characteristic of colombo is ground rice powder and sesame, and its name is the legacy of South Indians taken to the region. In the South Indian language Tamiḻ, the word used to describe meat and vegetables cooked with spices like curry, is kuḻambu (also written kuzhumbu), with the ḻ being somewhere between an R- and an L-sound. It’s a relief to learn the dish has nothing to do with Columbus, at least not in name.
Indo-Caribbeans from the francophone Caribbean and other South Asian indenture descendants from the francophone, whether by colonization or settlement, are an essential part of indenture conversations and merit the same awareness and understanding from elsewhere in indenture diasporas.
[5] Michèle Marimoutou-Oberlé, “Les Indiens à La Réunion, Une Présence Ancienne,” Hommes et Migrations: Minorités et Migrations En Bulgarie, no. 1275 (2008): 133.
[6] Mieritxell Martín-i-Pardo, Colombo Stews: Recipes for Hindu Self -Identity in Guadeloupe (University of Virginia. ProQuest Dissertations Publishing, 2005), 38–42.
[7] Martín-i-Pardo, 42.
[8] Singaravélou, Les Indiens de La Guadeloupe: Étude de Géographie (Bordeaux: Imprimerie Deniaud Frères, 1975), 51.
In this episode with our guest Fazle Shairmahomed @fazle_shairmahomed (he/they/she/dem), a Hindoestaan—or Indo-Surinamese—dancer and performance artist who employs various decolonial methods in her art, we discuss being Indo-Surinamese in Den Haag (The Hague), The Netherlands and the meanings of dance and identity.
Fazle Shairmahomed creates decolonizing rituals, performance art, and dance. Their work is rooted in ancestral work and intersectional activism. Through the urgency of community building their work creates spaces in which different communities are invited to nurture conversations around colonialism and the ways in which it has impacted our histories and the ways in which it exists today. The multi-sensorial approach in their work also challenges the ways in which we perceive the world around us through themes such as death, rebirth, ancestry, belonging, colonial histories, and healing. Since 2013 he is also one of the members of CLOUD danslab, an artist run dance studio which supports research and practice of dance, movement, and performance art in the Hague.
The physcial work and research of Fazle is deeply rooted in ways of approaching the state of trance, through archaic movements and ritual practices mostly inspired and informed by Muslim/Sufi traditions of Gnawa, Zar, the whirling Dervish; Japanese Butoh, Surinamese Winti culture, Hindu rituals, Caribbean Bubbling, Muslim funeral practices, Vogueing, and the Club.
Fazle was born and raised in a multicultural society in de Transvaal/Schilderswijk in Den Haag, in the Netherlands, they feel very hybrid, and identifies currently, but not exclusively, as Dutch, Surinamese-Hindustani, Indo-Caribbean, Muslim, Queer, non-binary, and as a person of color.
In this episode with our guest Anjuli Shiwraj, founder and artistic director of Shivanjali Arts (@shivanjali.arts) and a skilled, classically-trained dancer, we talk about being Indo-Guyanese in the Greater Toronto Area and the meanings of dance and identity.
Anjuli Shiwraj is the Founder and Artistic Director of Shivanjali Arts. Being a professional Kathak dancer, visual artist, makeup artist, and costume designer, Anjuli decided to create Shivanjali Arts: an organization to promote Indian Arts and culture as well as performing arts. Anjuli hails from a very artistic and musical family. Her relatives have among them talented singers, musicians including harmonium, tabla, dholak and tassa players. She was trained by Mrs. Deviekha Chetram who also was from Alexander village, Guyana. Anjuli has been dancing in the Greater Toronto Area as well as internationally for many years. Anjuli has danced for numerous organizations, charities, and has been a part of several dance companies, including: Tarana Dance Company, Natya Arts, and Panwar Dance Productions. Anjuli is trained in both Lucknow and Jaipur Gharanas of Kathak. She has had the distinct honor and privilege of training under notable dancer Alokparna Guha. She has also trained with Pt. Birju Maharaj Ji and his foremost disciple Smt. Saswati Sen Ji in numerous dance workshops in North America, as well as recently she learned a beautiful piece online with Pt. Rajendra Gangani. Anjuli has also received professional level training in Jaipur Gharana, as a company dancer with Panwar Music and Dance Productions. She has toured with their production of “Shakuntala” and Also Taken part in their debut performance on Krishna, among many of their other stage performances including Mosaic: Rajasthan Calling.
Teaching has become one of Anjuli’s greatest passions and seeks to pass on what she learned with utmost humility. It is her goal to not only nourish the upcoming generation, but also encourage anyone of any age to pursue their love of the arts.
Anjuli provides Kathak dance classes for all ages online, and studio in Ajax, as well as dance makeup classes, costume design and rental, and dance performance training through Shivanjali Arts.
Where oh where to begin on this journey questioning identity and belonging in diaspora? Dance!
Why dance? In his article “Chutney and Indo-Trinidadian Identity,” John Jay College professor Dr. Peter Manuel remarks “cultural entities like music and dance have come to assume unprecedented symbolic importance” for Indo-Caribbeans (Manuel, 21). As people descending from indenture, we trace our origins to the rich elaborate dance traditions of South Asia. Many of these traditions lasted through colonialism in various former identure sites, and, have also inspired the birth of new dances through creolization with the coming together of different cultures. Dance is such a unique medium of expression. The movement of the body can be not only visually appealing, but vibrant and full of meaning. And there are various movements in our histories of migration to indenture sites and later to the diasporas we now call home, and this movement flows through us. University of Auckland professor Dr. Adrienne N. Sansom writes that dance is not just “physical language” seen from the outside and conveyed externally, but “dance also has its naissance from deep within, and is felt, as well as thought about, in and through the body” (Sansom, 30). This profoundness of dance, almost spiritually or through a 6th sense, is something to consider in questioning ancestral homelands and their significance in diaspora today when reflecting on the medium.
Growing up on bollywood, as many descending from indenture do, my childhood was filled with awe-inspiring dance scenes whether it be Devdas or Sholay. There was something that felt so powerful about the dance I saw and felt, even the dances I saw at cultural functions for weddings or Phagwah (Holi). In my limited training in bharatnatyam and kathak–two of South Asia’s classical dance forms (amongst these others: kathakali, kuchipudi, manipuri and odissi)–as well as bollywood, I assert that dance in South Asia has been a mode of storytelling. While there are poets and writers that have contributed to the South Asian arts, our ancestors came from cultures with emphasis on aural/musical and dance traditions, differing from western traditions. Classical dances have been a way to tell the stories of epics, mythology and the tales of religion. South Asia culturally is a unique bridge between Islamic and Hindu traditions, which manifests in language, music and dance, one example being kathak. There is immense meaning that flows from the soul within and out the mudras, or hand gestures with specific significance, and the specific gaze or eye movements performed by dancers’ faces.
Without a doubt, there is a lot to talk about dance and those descending from indenture. In exploring dance and the connections to ancestral homelands in South Asia, we meet with Anjuli and Fazle, two dancers with diverse training from classical South Asian to modern and chutney, and of different backgrounds: Guyanese and Surinamese, who will be taking us into their diasporas in the Greater Toronto Area and the Hague in South Holland, the Netherlands to begin our journey and explore how dance and identity intersect for them.
Work Cited
Manuel, Peter. “Chutney and Indo-Trinidadian Cultural Identity.” Popular Music, vol. 17, no. 1, Cambridge University Press, 1998, pp. 21–43, http://www.jstor.org/stable/853271.
Sansom, Adrienne N. “Chapter Three: What Is Dance and Why Dance?” Counterpoints, vol. 407, Peter Lang AG, 2011, pp. 25–38, http://www.jstor.org/stable/42981149.
Welcome to Diasporic Children of Indenture with Alex Bacchus (they/them), a podcast and digital humanities site that reconciles what it means to descend from indenture while living in diaspora. In addition to giving some background on this project, this first episode discusses the meaning of diaspora and indenture, recognizing occupation of indigenous land while living in diaspora, being in solidarity with other diasporas and a little bit on the (in)famous c-word (c**lie). Come give a listen and learn more about what to expect in this exciting series being produced this fall!
Why am I looking specifically at those descending from indenture in diaspora, the Diasporic Children of Diaspora?
Folx1 descending from South Asian indenture and living in diaspora, especially in the Global North2, inevitably have very different lived experiences from those living in the former indenture sites from which our families have migrated.
For starters, we navigate : 1) living amongst people who do not share the same histories and, consequently, do not have that knowledge or understanding of our ancestries, and 2) being alongside significant populations of South Asians whose lineages don’t include indenture.
There are other reasons too. In summary, we have different lived experiences. And now being made part of the Global North by recent migrations made by our parents, grandparents or maybe even ourselves, to what extent is it fair to speak for those in our homelands?
The answer is very individual and depends on what ties you still have to the countries you or our families have come from.
Folx: originating from the word “folks,” this is a term meaning “people” that specifically singals the inclusion of induviduals of trans and gender diverse experiences not traditionally considered in conversations with binary cisgender models of idenitity.
Global North: a term for the richest and most industrialized countries, freqently former colonial powers, current imperial powers and settler-colonial states. Global North countries include states like Korea, Japan, New Zealand, Canada and Denmark.
I changed the name! Meh chanj di name! J’ai changé le nom! An chanjé non-la! Ik heb de naam veranderd! मैंने नाम बदल दिया! Maiṅ ne naam badal diyaa! !میں نے نام بدل دیا
I have changed the name of this project. I recently learned the c-word—a word so commonly reclaimed amongst my diasporic circles of Indo-Guyanese and Trinidadians—is a word that brings pain for many others and is rejected and not used at all by other diasporas. While saying that, I don’t say that all Guyanese and Trinidadians embrace the word. I was aware of a debate, but I was ignorant and I did not fully calculate the word’s pain and its complete rejection by other communities. The original title of this project with the (in)famous c-word would serve if this was solely examining Guyanese and Trinidadian diasporas, but being that this project extends to include other diasporas and seeks to build conversations, it is essential to have greater sensitivity and to be inclusive by avoiding the c-word. It is crucial to be in conversation with other diasporas descending from indenture and to be aware of their decolonial movements and methods if we are to be in full solidarity with them.
I do feel there is potential in reclaiming the c-word, and it is a word that has been important to me. But I am recognizing more the boundaries and limitations of reclaiming in different spaces and diasporas.
I am grateful to be able to talk about this with others and gain their insight and wisdom. A crucial question that arose from those advising me on the matter was “is the name a collaborative effort or one you choose on your own?”
The word must be discussed and we must have awareness of the diverse relationships that exist with the word in reconciling the history from which we descend. Simultaneously, this must be accompanied by sensitivity, something that I have lacked to include, and I apologize for causing any pain through my work. Reconciliation is neither an easy nor comfortable task. And I acknowledge this has been a bold start to reconciliation.
Anglophone Indo-Caribbean Communities from the Greater Toronto Area and New York City to Guyana and Trinidad commonly use the c-word as a reclaimed term. It is a word I grew up hearing casually, with ease and pride, a creolese way to locate and gender myself while living in diaspora of constantly being the “other” before discovering the term “Indo-Caribbean.”
The word can be upsetting for some, and I am still learning how upsetting this term can be. For many Surinamese in the Netherlands, this word carries the same weight as the n-word in English. This is something I just learned. While many of us may use the c-word casually (including myself), we must have greater sensitivity and awareness of how violent and painful the word still is and how different diasporas have different relationships with the word.
The word is rooted in the labour and brutality our ancestors survived. It was a status they were given and limited to. What does it mean for us to locate ourselves in this? How do we reconcile this?
I have been very ignorant about the harm this word causes. Different diasporas are having different conversations, and I observe an inherent language barrier that does not allow for various diasporas to be in full conversation with one another. To embark on a mission of decolonial practices, reconciliation and ancestral healing, and to stand in solidarity with our kin, those–who may distantly be our cousins–descending from indenture and overlapping histories, it is essential to hear their voices.
When we are causing pain, we have to listen and accommodate.
Despite having similar historical starts, we have grown two cultures differently, even if only a river separates us. Yet, we have so much to learn from eachother.
