Mary Cuffy

As Oc­to­ber ends, so too does Caribbean Folk­lore Month, a cel­e­bra­tion of the re­gion’s rich oral tra­di­tions, fas­ci­nat­ing leg­ends and cul­tur­al her­itage. Yet the sto­ries that have trav­elled from gen­er­a­tion to gen­er­a­tion are far from fad­ing in­to the past.

From the mys­te­ri­ous Pa­pa Bois and the mis­chie­vous Douen to the fiery Soucouyant and the en­chant­i­ng Ma­ma Glo/D’leau, these leg­endary char­ac­ters con­tin­ue to cap­ture the imag­i­na­tions of young peo­ple.

But what do to­day’s chil­dren think about these leg­endary char­ac­ters? Do the sto­ries still cap­ture their imag­i­na­tion, or have these tra­di­tion­al tales be­come dis­tant mem­o­ries in a world in­creas­ing­ly in­flu­enced by tech­nol­o­gy and mod­ern en­ter­tain­ment?

To mark the oc­ca­sion, chil­dren from Nec­es­sary Arts School shared their knowl­edge, ex­pe­ri­ences and per­son­al re­flec­tions on some of Trinidad and To­ba­go’s most mem­o­rable folk­lore char­ac­ters.

Jazarah Emi­ly Subero, 9 —

Pa­pa Bois

My name is Jazarah Emi­ly Subero. I am nine years old. I have nev­er heard much about Trinidad folk­lore char­ac­ters. But I at­tend­ed a play that showed us many folk­lore char­ac­ters. Some were scary, and I won’t ever want to see them.

The Pa­pa Bois leg­end amazed me the most. Pa­pa Bois is an old man cov­ered with all shades of green leafy leaves, with gi­ant hooves for legs, who could change in­to an­i­mals.

Pa­pa Bois loved the for­est and all crea­tures, and he car­ried a horn that he would blow to warn them of dan­ger.

If peo­ple came to the for­est to cause harm to the an­i­mals or any of na­ture for fun, he would make them get lost and show him­self to let them know what they were do­ing was wrong and that they need­ed to re­spect and care for all liv­ing things.

I wish he re­al­ly ex­ist­ed be­cause I felt sad see­ing how peo­ple harm an­i­mals and na­ture. We should try to show care to all the things God made.

Aix­ia Wal­ter — The Douen

The first time I heard about the Douen was in 2021, when I was sev­en years old and at­tend­ed Camp Tip­pi Tam­bo, found­ed by Aun­ty Pene­lope Spencer and Aun­ty Ce­cil­ia Salazar.

One of our ac­tiv­i­ties at the camp was to por­tray a char­ac­ter from folk­lore, and I chose the Douen.

With the help of my grand­moth­er, I did some re­search and learnt that the Douen are said to be chil­dren who weren’t bap­tised. They’re usu­al­ly de­scribed as chil­dren with back­wards-fac­ing feet. They wear hats and have no vis­i­ble faces.

Ac­cord­ing to folk­lore, the Douen call out the names of oth­er chil­dren, tempt­ing them to come out and play. They would then lead the chil­dren deep in­to the for­est, where they are said to dis­ap­pear and nev­er re­turn.

Por­tray­ing the Douen fas­ci­nat­ed me af­ter hear­ing about the sto­ry. I want­ed to be bap­tised twice be­cause I nev­er want to meet a Douen! But I was hap­py that I was able to learn about one of our folk­lore char­ac­ters.

Kael Al­ibey — The Soucouyant

Imag­ine look­ing out your win­dow at night and see­ing a fright­en­ing ball of fire fly­ing to­wards you!

The Soucouyant is one of the scari­est crea­tures in Caribbean folk­lore. It is said that the Soucouyant can turn in­to a ball of fire, fly around at night and suck peo­ple’s blood!

Dur­ing the day, it hides like an or­di­nary per­son. But did you know that this scary crea­ture is afraid of salt? This is be­cause it has to stop and count every grain be­fore con­tin­u­ing.

It is al­so said that the Soucouyant re­moves its skin and hides it in a safe place, some­times be­hind a tree. If you ever find its skin, sprin­kle salt on it!

I find this sto­ry scary but al­so a lit­tle fun­ny. Imag­ine some­thing so ter­ri­fy­ing be­ing de­feat­ed by or­di­nary salt!

All in all, be care­ful of your sur­round­ings and al­ways keep some salt near­by, just in case!

Zahra Thomas — Ma­ma Glo/D’leau

To me, Ma­ma Glo/D’leau is a Trin­bag­on­ian char­ac­ter to be ad­mired and idolised, rep­re­sent­ing so much more than an old sto­ry.

Not gonna lie, I didn’t know much about her a few years back, but now, to know that she is the moth­er of the wa­ters, a pro­tec­tor of aquat­ic life and a warn­ing to those cru­el fish­er­men who harm in­no­cent an­i­mals, I love her even more.

She rep­re­sents a con­cept much deep­er than a sim­ple sto­ry, but one of strength, pro­tec­tion and care for our en­vi­ron­ment, phe­nom­e­na lost in mod­ern-day so­ci­ety.

To con­clude, I have a joke for you. How does the wa­ter say hel­lo? It waves.

And I’m re­al­ly glad to have waved Ma­ma Glo/D’leau in­to my life.

With Caribbean Folk­lore Month over, the re­flec­tions of these young sto­ry­tellers re­mind us that our folk­lore is much more than a col­lec­tion of fright­en­ing char­ac­ters and mys­te­ri­ous tales. It is a liv­ing part of our Caribbean iden­ti­ty, car­ry­ing lessons about re­spect, re­spon­si­bil­i­ty, imag­i­na­tion, and our re­la­tion­ship with the nat­ur­al world.

Their re­flec­tions al­so re­mind us of the im­por­tance of keep­ing oral sto­ry­telling, the­atre, cul­tur­al camps and cre­ative arts ex­pe­ri­ences alive in our schools and com­mu­ni­ties. Such op­por­tu­ni­ties al­low chil­dren to en­counter their her­itage, ex­press their own ideas and be­come sto­ry­tellers in their own right.

Re­mem­ber that pre­serv­ing our folk­lore should nev­er be lim­it­ed to Oc­to­ber. Our sto­ries de­serve a place in our homes, class­rooms, the­atres and com­mu­ni­ties through­out the year.

Mary Cuffy is an ed­u­ca­tor and lo­cal chil­dren’s au­thor of the La­dy­bug se­ries. Cuffy be­lieves the best in­vest­ment we can make in chil­dren is in the ear­ly years.

Email mary.cuffy@ya­hoo.com. IG:marycuffy . FB: mary cuffy/Lo­la and the Danc­ing La­dy­bug.