The Trinidad Guardian
Thursday 23rd December 2004

Taking Parang back to the top of Paramin.


The spirit of Paramin parang is alive in Melissa Letren,
Richard Mendez and Meighan Mendez of the group Paramininos.
Photo: Keith Matthews
By Joanne Briggs
Truth be told, Paramin is no longer a bastion of parang. The rustic Maraval village that starts at the foot of a mountain and ends on the top of another has the reputation of being the home of patois, creche (French parang), parang and good seasoning. The times are changing.
“It has the biggest parang festival in the world, but on that show there would be one band from Paramin or two bands from Paramin,” said Richard Mendez, guardian of the group Paramininos.
It has to do with motivation, he says.
The Paramin Development Committee, which hosts the popular annual festival, once hosted a parang competition that encouraged youths to get into the parang genre.
“Some 15 years ago there were 14 bands in Paramin. And they (the committee) stopped the competition and started the fiesta by bringing bands from the outside. Then people did not have the impetus to start a band because a band is an expensive thing… and even the house-to-house parang has died simply because there is not much interest,” he said.
Enter Paramininos. Roughly translated, it means children of Paramin.
“This band is functioning because parang has died in Paramin. We want to try to reestablish parang in Paramin,” he said.
Although his forte is calypso—his formative years were in that genre—he developed his appreciation for the Spanish art form after seeing what his daughter, Meighan, and her friends could do.
“When they talked about forming a band, I had no knowledge. I did research–consulted Dr Joanne Ferreira from the University of the West Indies. I even got my hands on a lovely paper written by Dr Sylvia Moodie. That helped a lot,” he said.
He does not know Spanish. His earlier days of paranging in Paramin was a means of getting food and drink.
“Parang as Spanish, I knew nothing about that at all. When they (his daughter and friends) decided to form the band, I had to learn of parang,” he said.
But he also has this theory: if youth these days could learn Jamaican very quickly, they could also master the Spanish language.
His story is not about the good old days. His story is about the present, the harsh reality that Paramin has lost its innocence. The picturesque village is being heavily influenced by cable, video games and pockets of marijuana plantations.
The youngsters prefer bling and gangsta gear, rather than caress a cuatro. They would rather stay home and watch TV than learn a new chord.
At Holly’s Bandwagon earlier in the season, they wore the biggest cubic zirconias on their ears, had thick silver chains resting on their chests—which were dressed in either a T-shirt from the Sean John collection or a pricey basketball shirt.
“There are not many young bands…because youth are not being attracted to it…. Parang does not have glamour, it does not have money. You must have some Roman Catholic background or some religious background if you want to sing parang,” Mendez said.
But Meighan, a self-taught cuatro player and lead vocalist, and her friend Melissa Letren, who plays the tocs, are two who keep the parang dear to their hearts.
“The culture, it’s Paramin. Everybody knows how to play a little bit of the cuatro or you could learn something from somebody. So when Christmas night came, we said aye, leh we go play some parang—we had nothing else to do,” Meighan said.
Her voice accelerates when she talks about her parang memories—like Ronoman, Scrunter’s rival in the early days of parang soca, who was the Pied Piper of Paramin.
“Back in those days Ronoman was God to us. Nobody could have played a cuatro better than Ronoman. We would wait in the track, just to see him come up that road so we could follow him everywhere.”
Or when she shivered in the night dew just to hear a parang side play as it moved from house to house.
“I would to go sleep very lightly just to hear them start to play outside. Just as the first string pull, I’m out my bed. I would be sitting outside in my nightie, feeling cold. I would say, ‘Oh my God, I have to do that.’”
Letren has been a parrandera since she was a little girl. Her father Scottie, a cuatro player of the defunct band Los Alacran, took her everywhere.
“I use to beg him to go house parang. So I went—no matter what time we came back home,” she said.
Added to that are the respective influences of legendary parang queen Daisy Voisin of La Divina Pastora and Charlene Flores of Flores de San Jose.
Young women now—Meighan is 19, Letren is 23—their passion for the art form has not waned. It’s evidenced by the fact that their love for parang surpasses all discomforts.
“When we had the opportunity to go to Tobago in our first year, it was such a big thing… we were prepared to play for free. The guest house was a horrible place. There were no covers on the bed, no towels, no locks, no food. But we did not care. We were there to parang. I was so happy to be there,” said Meighan.
The group also plans to host a six-week parang workshop during the long vacation next year.
“For the younger ones. The young children idolise the band. This also creates interaction. All they need is a little encouragement,” Meighan said.
“We need the youths to keep the culture alive. We have to beg parents to understand the value of it,” said Letren.
As Mendez pointed out, there is a social relevance of a group like Paramininos.
“People look at it as if it is a group of teenagers playing parang. One of the founding members of Paramininos is a student at Hugh Wooding Law School—she was a national scholarship winner; another is in her final year in Mass Communication at Mona Campus and Meighan is expected to begin studies in medicine next year.
“The greater good of the band is that you have 15 young people walking the straight and narrow.”
Los Paramininos
Is in its fourth season
Is led by Richard Mendez, a school teacher at Paramin RC School
“We are friends and family, we live in the same area. We grew up together—brother, sister, cousin, neighbour, friends. Young people doing something cultured.”—Meighan Mendez