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There is something quite unique about the Dominican family. Not so much to those who live here, but to people who are not originally from this island gem. I have more than a few friends who live out of Dominica, but visit on the occasional vacation. One outstanding feature of their wonder about Dominica comes from the dynamics of the Dominican family.On a drive one day, Wendy, who was from the US witnessed the exchange of several waves, shouts and smiles along the way. When she would ask how I knew him, or her, it was often: “he’s my cousin....she’s my aunt....or he’s my uncle.” Seeking to clarify the relationship, I would have to explain that this ‘uncle’ was actually my grandmother’s half brother- and that really, we had bo relation, and this cousin was not really my cousin, but a child whom my uncle- who wasn’t really my uncle- had taken care of since he was young.
Now you can see that to a non Dominican, the thought of such an extensive family tree would be inconceivable. Not to the average Dominican though. Of course, not so much now as it was in the past, but for the most part, this situation was not helped by what I can best describe as the prolific nature of our grandparents and those before them. I know that my grandfather had some 35 children, and one of his sons had 13. Needless to say that this pattern was not by any means a rarity.
It is from this background that this story comes. One over which I have shared many laughs with my friends who were there when it was being recounted.
My friend was in a casual conversation with his sister when they happened to begin discussing their family tree. Now since they were only half brother and sister, they both have different relatives. Gerald was told that he had 14 siblings, Jen was told she had 7. This is not at all uncommon in any society. But things became very entertaining when Gerald, who was older, started telling stories of him “discovering” sisters strictly by happenstance, thinking that he was talking to another pretty girl.
In one story, he had traveled to the other side of the island with a friend to attend a ‘jam’. But his friend who was from the area casually warned him that he should go find two girls who lived up on the hill. He was wondering why, but being the outgoing guy who he was, he just went, despite his confusion. And yes, these girls looked too much like his own sisters for comfort. Wondering, he asked who their father was. He wasn’t surprised when they told him their dad was his. Of course, he had never heard of these girls before. His father gave him some story that they weren’t really his, but that the girls’ grandparents liked him more than the real father, so they passed the girls off as his? Gerald apparently wasn’t prepared to believe that one.
Jen also told us of one story when her dad was dressing up looking all spiffy. It was a very curious sight, so she asked where he was off to: “Well,” her dad had said, “Some padner up in de north calling my name for his father. I going and see if is true.”
Of course, when she called and told me about it, I was all over the floor in laughter. See, the mere fact that her dad even thought it may be plausible was telling enough. Absolutely hilarious- and in many respects, sad! Some part of me wonders how many brothers and sisters she may have running around the island and not even know it.
For all that its worth, this is only a casual discourse, but as Gerald put it, “How is a guy supposed to survive if the girls he making a break on at a party keep turning out to be his cousin, sister or niece?!” My response to that would be, “Just ask your father!”
