The etiquette of Anguilla has quiet echoes of its colonial past. A simple ‘hi’ is not appropriate when meeting someone. One must always greet with a proper acknowledgement corresponding to the sun’s position in the tranquil sky. ‘Good morning’, ‘good afternoon’ and ‘good night’ are all considered suitable salutations and must be uttered when entering a space or before any query or request. Deference often entails the younger party initiating the greeting with the elder, as a way to express respect.
In such interactions occurring for the first time, it’s also customary to find the elder quizzing with the common Anguillian enquiry: ‘Who yuh for?’ My answer to this question is always, ‘I for Zambezi.’
‘Who yuh for’ or ‘who yuh people be?’ are common phrases to hear in Anguilla. Family ties are very important and one of the main ways in which connections are formed. The desire to associate faces with their respective families is something that has become so common nature that, when meeting an elder, you already know as a young Anguillian to introduce yourself with mention of your parents, grandparents or whatever family member would likely be known to the party which you have encountered. It’s an integral part of the culture in Anguilla.
It is in this way that my sister and I have become known in some circles as ‘Zambezi’s daughters’, a reference to our shared father. On a small island like Anguilla, you’ll always be known in some way, by someone, for something (differentiated, of course, by either notoriety or fame).
My father has five children in total, but just two daughters: me, the writer, and my sister, Morihinzi, the swimsuit designer. She has taken hold of our grandmother’s talents as a seamstress. Her passion for fashion and design manifests itself in her line HINZI Swim (follow @hinziswim).
We both perpetuate the retention of culture in Anguilla through our art. While Mori uses the offerings of the island as inspiration for designs that take you from shore to sand, I utilise it in a different way. Many of my reflections are essay-style or poetry, but my daily life in Anguilla is something which I’ve taken to micro-blogging (follow @theonlyvanessa to peek at what real life looks like as a mother of three on the island).
Our father may be known to you, even if you’re a visitor to Anguilla. He’s become somewhat of an icon on island – most commonly known to tourists for his work as a horse handler on Maundays Bay. Maybe you’re reading this making the connection between me, Mori and our father. That little flare of recognition is precisely what it means to ignite the practice of connecting Anguillian lineage to someone you’ve just met.
Even in our thirties, either of us still may get asked ‘who yuh fadda be?’. It’s a nostalgic nod to the importance of ancestry and the value of family connection. In Anguilla, you are always seen as someone’s child no matter how old you are.
Vanessa Croft is a graduate teacher and writer living in Anguilla. She runs VanessaExplainsItAll.com, a lifestyle blog about parenting and island life. Follow her on @theonlyvanessa for daily microblogs.
