By Johnny Coomansingh
After spending five years in pursuit of three graduate degrees in Kansas, I left for a visiting Lecturer position in Tourism at Missouri State University (MSU) in Springfield, Missouri. I served in the Department of Geography, Geology and Planning (GGP) for two years. At the end of my contract in 2005, I was presented with a parting gift. The item consisted of a solid, transparent glass ball with etchings of a map of the Earth seated on a brass construction base of three turtles joined together. On top of each of the large turtles were smaller turtles. I accepted the ‘award’ with a smile and thought to myself, well here’s my very own crystal ball through which I could visualise the world. Inside the gift box was a card with an inscription:
“In A Brief History of Time (Bantam Books, 1968), Stephen Hawkins tells a story of an elderly woman who confronted Bertrand Russell at the end of a lecture on orbital mechanics, claiming she a theory superior to his. “We don’t live on a ball revolving around the Sun,” she said, “We live on a crust of earth on the back of a giant turtle.” Wishing to humor the woman Russell asked, “And what does this turtle stand on?” “On the back of a second, still larger turtle,” was her confident answer. “But what holds the up the second turtle?” he persisted, now in a slightly exasperated tone. “It’s no use, young man,” the old woman replied, “It’s turtles all the way down.””
In my move to another room, in my abode here in Valencia, Trinidad, I came across the card. I read the message on the card again and again and wondered at what the old lady implied. Bertrand Russell must have gone into a tailspin with such an answer. With a myriad of thoughts in my mind, I decided an attempt to find some reason or some plausible answer to how we look at ourselves and the world.
As a visiting lecturer in the GGP, I taught four courses per semester: GRY100: Global Issues-Geographical Perspectives, GRY308: Geography of World Tourism, GRY310: Fundamentals of Tourism and GRY320: Cultural Geography. What I noticed in teaching all these courses is that people are constantly moving. No one stays static. I saw that millions, nay, billions of people who cannot keep quiet. There are push and pull factors operating in the Earth system. Even a protozoan such as an amoeba will try to escape a drop of acid in a beaker. People must travel, to find some place of rest, to seek some shelter, to extract some mineral, to seek for friends, to strengthen belief, to find food and water, to get a new experience (the tourist gaze), and to wage war; it’s an everlasting conundrum to get a fix! Apparently, it’s almost as the old woman explained: “It’s turtles all the way down” in all things. It’s a problem of infinite regress. As sand on the seashore, are we not constantly tossed to and fro?
In my mother’s eulogy, I wrote about what I garnered from a study of the book, Angle of Repose. Here’s a clip from that script:
“In the search to find a place of rest, there is the realisation that there is no moment in anyone’s life that is available to take a break; so true of what Pulitzer Prize winner Wallace Stegner explained in his book Angle of Repose. Life presents itself to all as a rock sliding down the face of a slope. The rock stops or rests, finds its ‘angle of repose’ for a moment, then some external force troubles it, and it keeps moving down the slope. On its uncharted and perilous journey downwards, the rock disintegrates.
“Bit by bit, it changes shape and is morphed into something unrecognisable from its original form. Fragmentation occurs, and bits and pieces dislodge themselves from the original chunk until it ends up as talus at the bottom of the slope. Finally, the initial mass ends up on some distant seashore as sand. Invariably, the sand continues to be tossed to and fro by rising and falling tides. Indeed, there is no rest! The sand that started out as a rock bears no semblance to the original rock, except perhaps in its chemical composition. And so it was with our mother, Dolly Adolphine Carmino, and I guess that it is so with all people.”
A good colleague of mine, a born and bred North Dakotan counseled me not go to Minot, North Dakota, in 2005. Nevertheless, I found myself taking up a position as an Assistant Professor and Coordinator of the Geography Department in the Social Sciences Division at Minot State University (MSU), North Dakota.
Imagine that after a two-year search and 67 applicants for the position, this Trini was selected for the position. I reasoned that ‘people are people’ and things will not be so bad on this journey. I kind of adopted the saying: ‘Why not Minot.’ However, as the saying goes, there’s always a bigger shark out there. How to deal with such a shark is the question of questions. A non-traditional student hinted to me on my arrival, “They like you until you get here.” I realised that I would never be comfortable as a non-white, Asian looking, foreigner. My North Dakotan friend was correct. The college wanted the diversity I brought, but did not like my Trinidadianess. I should have listened to my friend.
What do you know, what did the white intruders do to the Native Americans everywhere? With all my experience, training, skills, qualifications and educational attainment, was I any different? I studied ‘Contested Native American Sacred Spaces’ and I understood the hate and guile in the DNA of these people. As we say in Trinidad: “Not every skin teeth is fren.” At that university, there were times when I received 50 percent smiles from some. Some folks did not even smile. I heard sometime later that there was a person on the search committee who didn’t want me around at all! He thought that I didn’t know. Later on, some others joined in the war against me.
I envisaged that MSU as a university, was supposed to have a certain standard. Spoon-feeding students and remediation was not my style. In any case, I am still not prone to fostering a watered-down education process. Someone eventually mentioned to me that MSU is a “glorified high school.” In a place where prejudice is rife, what was a calypso, parranda, and steelpan-loving Trini to do? Many times we assume that things change, but it remains the same with a different hue. For crying out loud, the turtles are still there holding up the Earth! It could be that such people do not have a penchant for poetry. Look at what John F. Kennedy said:
“When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man’s concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses. For art establishes the basic human truths which must serve as the touchstone of our judgement.” (John F. Kennedy, 1917-1963).”
Could religion be one of the answers that I was hoping to find? It wasn’t religion in the least! I was searching for something far greater than religion. In my book talk at the MSU library on the book titled: Islamic Societies in Practice by Carolyn Fluehr-Lobran, a member of the audience was brave enough to ask, “What is your religion?” I answered “None.” It could be that such a member wanted to pigeon-hole me into a certain category. Who knows the leanings in the culture of such a place?
As I pondered the question, bright and early one morning I woke with some thoughts in my mind. I rose up from my bed and quickly scribbled these words that are now written in my 2019 anthology titled Fifteen Christmas Poems and Some…:
“I am convinced that we will overcome our deepest fears when we cease to subscribe to dogma, ritual, and liturgy. With an open and fertile mind, we must allow for the revelation of truth in its glorious simplicity…to sift and winnow away illusions and accept the reality of the moment. No one needs anyone to unravel or decipher the ‘mystery’ about truth, for truth in itself is not mysterious…no, not at all mysterious.”
It was clear that I was also seeking for truth and how the world spins or where it sits. Like Jacob in the Bible, a servant of Laban, I stayed there for seven years. The 500-year flood of 2011 in the Souris River in the ‘All American City of Minot’ and the evil surmising of some of the faculty at MSU, ended my contract. No sweat. The Invisible Hand that I believe and confide in, promised that my daily needs will be provided.
That part of my travels was for a moment; a passing parade. In my book titled: Cocoa Woman: a Narrative about Cocoa Estate Culture in the British West Indies I said: “The road is always there. The question is whether we will choose the path set before us.” Established in my soul is the statement from the book of Psalms 37:25: “I have been young, and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread.”
Today, I am sitting happily in my newly painted writing room thinking about those turtles that support the Earth. Created from two unused shelves, my new desk is quite comfortable, a step up from the ‘privilege’ of the dining table, and, according to Thomas Hardy, Far from the Madding Crowd. In front of me, there is an endearing statement in a work of art that says: “Be Strong and Courageous” (Joshua 1:9). My ‘crystal ball’ supported by the turtles, holds it in place against the window frame. On this desk, I fight my battles and win my wars. Let’s hope that the turtles never get tired, confused or fed up with their duties.
