A Funeral in Flowers Bay (The CoastWatcher: Caribbean West)
News from the Honduras Bay Islands and North Coast
23 June 2001
By Pierre Renaldo, The Coastwatcher©

The day started off with typical summertime thundershowers sweeping in from the Caribbean Sea and drenching the island thoroughly. That meant that the potholes on the coast road would be a series of small lakes to negotiate on the ride in to the office. It takes some finesse driving to keep from splashing pedestrians and fellow drivers with whom we must share the road.

We had not traveled too far into the Flowers Bay community when we came upon a very large lady who was flagging us down, rather in a flap it seemed; we stopped as is our custom, to offer her a ride into town. It was pretty early, so the vans were probably not running and there was a serious threat of more rain.

The lady was somewhat upset from what we could gather. She began a conversation with my wife and announced that she had been at a wake for most of the night. There was more conversation which I did not understand, but it was a for sure, that someone important to the community had passed on.

Since she was sitting in the back seat and I was the driver, I could not hear all of it but through the singsong English that the islanders speak I was picking up bits and pieces of the story.

The mother of one of the ladies who works at Casa Warren had died early the previous evening. This lady in my truck was a good friend to the family and had come to the family home to offer condolences. She was totally blitzed, which I then realized was the reason I was having such difficulty understanding her speech. The slurring was occurring as a result of much strong drink, and that coupled with the unusual inflections used in speaking Island English, held me to scant comprehension.

Then suddenly this lady blurted out, loud enough for me to hear, that she was some kind of an undercover agent who was on the island to seek out some bad guys who were trafficking in drugs. She furthermore informed us that she had been trained in the best places in the world, and was very good at catching the bad guys. She had even shot a few, she informed us.

We were then sworn to secrecy because secret agents are no longer a secret if lots of people know they are secret agents. We were the only ones who knew, she informed us, so please don't tell. My wife assured her that we would not reveal her deep dark secret, and I concurred, swearing the oath of "omerta," my lips forever sealed.

She then departed when we made the turn onto Thicket Mouth Road. We knew we would sleep well that night, assured now that big sister was out there making drug busts for the citizens of Roatan. Why do you suppose that a secret agent would reveal her secret status to complete strangers? This place is totally amazing!

The day turned into a beaut, with many unexpected mishaps involving a flat tire and an overheated radiator, but when I made the return trip to Flowers Bay, I was truly startled and Impressed with the great number of cars, trucks and people who had gathered at the Flowers Bay Baptist Church. The church sanctuary was filled to capacity, with a very large number of the congregation seated outside along the roadside, across from and adjacent to the church.

There were at least fifty trucks and cars, an inordinate number of funeral attendees by island standards. I have seen many funeral processions since if have lived here but this one was an all time first. The deceased must have been exceptionally revered in her community. I wanted to know much more about the dear departed lady.

Everybody knew her as Tuta, and she lived by the Book, giving selflessly to all those in need, wherever and whenever that need arose. She lived the Golden Rule, trying to teach love of our fellow man by example. She was the angel of Flowers Bay, and her passing sent shock waves of sorrow throughout the community.

There were very many testimonials spoken at her funeral service in that little church. Many who stood up and sang and many more who would have spoken, but the day had dwindled into evening, and darkness would soon prevail. The funeral procession marched slowly, singing hymns all the way to the cemetery. At dusk, Tuta was laid to rest, on the side of a little hill that overlooks the sea.

Rest in peace, dear Tuta, angel of mercy, daughter of humanity. Farewell Juanita Stewart….God take you and keep you.

"Grieve not for me but for those who are left behind.."

I did not know her but I wish I had. There are too few like her in this world.

Address questions or comments to: elouis@globalnet.hn

That's all for this week

Ciao,
Pierre

By Pierre Renaldo, Mountain Coastal S.A,. General Contractors, Construction Management and Construction Consultants.