The Islands and the People
They’re French, indisputably spiced with an intriguing
Caribbean flavor. These perpetually sunny islands are also very
beautiful in the best tropical manner: a riot of flowers, tangled green
forests, mountain waterfalls, dramatic rocky headlands, beaches of
white, tan, or black volcanic sand. And the sunsets are
breathtaking.
Each of the islands has an Atlantic and a Caribbean shore
with the water’s hues spanning a mini-spectrum from pale green to
midnight blue. In the sparkling, unpolluted sea, fishing techniques
haven’t changed much since Columbus claimed these remote outposts for
Spain almost 500 years ago.
Ashore, fields of sugarcane and banana plantations drape
steep hills and rolling plains. Volcanoes, hummingbirds, mangroves,
mongooses, and palm trees complete the picture. The heat is year-round
(average 25º C/77º F), but so are the trade winds that temper it.
“ Our little corner in the Caribbean” crows the publicity
from Paris. Actually, the French West Indies (FWI), or Antilles
Françaises as they’re called in France, are not at all a neat
geographical cluster. The few dozen islands and rocks are widely
scattered along the great curving chain of the Lesser Antilles.
Guadeloupe and Martinique, much the largest of the islands
and about 160 km (100 miles) apart, are becoming internationally known
resorts. To the north, little Saint-Barthélemy and the French side of
Saint-Martin (the other side is Dutch) have as much charm — without the
bustle. Though some 256 km (160 miles) away, they’re dependencies of
Guadeloupe. So are the tiny eastern and southern satellites of La
Désirade, Marie-Galante, and Les Saintes.
All of the islands are now officially and proudly part of
France, not colonies as they were for some three centuries. Martinique
and Guadeloupe, formal départements since 1946, have recently become
régions in an administrative reshuffle. Each has a préfet named in
Paris, and sends three deputies and two senators more than 6,400 km
(4,000 miles) to sit in the national legislature. To New York, about
3,000 km (1,900 miles) away, they send back streams of contented
tourists.
French Antilles citizens enjoy the same state benefits as
all French citizens, drink the same famous wines, and eat the same
cheeses and patés on baguettes just as crustily delicious as those
turned out by every bakery in the métropole. And yet, despite the
flocks of familiar French automobiles with yellow headlights, the
francs and centimes, the gendarmes, cafés, and just-like-Paris little
shops, you’ll sense immediately that this is not, nor could it ever be,
metropolitan France.
The atmosphere is richer, more exotic: Africans, Asians,
Indians, and whites of various origins have become absorbed and
transformed into the fascinating culture known as Creole. By world
standards, this racially varied society is a model of harmony.
What will strike you first is the marvelous range of subtly
different skin tones and facial features. The famous FWI women,
inevitably wearing bright earrings and flashing colors, manage to be
both graceful and sensuous as they walk. This is true even when they
glide along country roads with large bundles balanced on their heads.
Little girls learn this sure-fire posture-improver very early in
life.
In these already overpopulated islands, where Roman
Catholicism is the predominant religion, the government provides an
initial lump sum for each birth and a monthly support grant, allocation
familiale, for each child. Because of the male exodus to France and
elsewhere in search of jobs, women continue to outnumber men. More than
half of 800,000 native islanders are children, and the mother is
traditionally responsible for bringing them up, handling the money, and
making key domestic decisions.
Everyone agrees there’s a special magic to the Creole soul.
Smiling readily but somewhat shy about making the first approach, the
islanders will often overwhelm you with kindness once contact is made.
Honesty is taken for granted. You’ll find a simplicity, a lack of
complication, about many local people, yet something, too, of the
sophistication associated with the French.
Away from tourist resorts and shopping areas, rarely will
any language be spoken except French and the mystifying Creole patois,
which, though based on French, is almost incomprehensible to anyone not
used to it — even non-initiated French-speakers. But people of all ages
will invariably go out of their way to help a foreigner. The biggest
marque d’attention a tourist can receive is to be invited to a Creole
home.
You’ll soon notice how easy it is to get a cheerful early
start on these islands. Punch, the ubiquitous drink of local rum,
sugarcane syrup, and lime, is popular from dawn to dusk. And along with
punch, gossiping is a favorite pastime in the FWI. The women and girls
washing clothes along the river banks are probably doing so if they’re
not singing. And it’s a safe bet that in the open-air markets, the
sales-ladies under the big straw hats are gossiping too — between
transactions involving such prized local items as guavas, tamarinds,
red pimentos, and plantains.
While tropical fruits and vegetables abound, along with a
satisfying variety of fresh fish, much food in the FWI is imported,
primarily from France. Nowhere else in the Caribbean can you eat as
imaginatively or as well. Traditional French dishes are as highly
esteemed as the spicy specialties of Creole cuisine.
As on most tropical islands, the pace of life tends to be
lazy. During the hottest hours, things come to a virtual standstill,
though the Caribbean siesta is an hour or two shorter than its
Mediterranean counterpart. It would be folly for a visitor to expect
American-style efficiency or speedy service; it would be wisest to slip
into the casual drift of things West Indian. Whether eating, touring,
or shopping, taking your time will always be rewarding.
But when the sun goes down and the music starts up, there’s
nothing lazy about the dancing. This is where the biguine began and
still belongs, along with all manner of other Caribbean rhythms just as
popular and even more frenzied. They say that if you can understand
their dancing, you’ll have begun to understand the Creole soul. It’s
certainly worth trying.
Not fully “discovered” and certainly unspoiled, the FWI are
relative newcomers on the world tourist scene. Though their economic
well-being is about the most precarious of any part of France, these
basically agricultural islands can and do provide the scenery, the sun,
the sea, and the sand in sufficient quantity to attract rapidly growing
numbers of vacationers looking for fun, relaxation, and... something
different.
