Aruba is like no other island, we usually say, we had no slavery here, which accounts for the easy going, friendly demeanor of the locals, who have ‘no chip on their shoulder.’
True, Aruba had no sugarcane plantations, but who do you think worked in the Aloe fields, less backbreaking than sugarcane, but still hard labor.
Our archives show that most affluent Aruban families had house-slaves, a more benign form of exploitation. Many home- and landowners, married their slaves and had children by them, and that somehow contributed to the indifference with which the topic is treated here, the silence and the repression. Slaves became part of the family, why talk about it at all.
Last year, in connection to the 160th anniversary of the abolition of slavery and the formal apology of the Dutch monarch, for the role his country and family played in the transatlantic slave trade, slavery was briefly discussed on the island.
In the wake of the apology, Cas di Cultura, our Cultural Center wanted to commemorate the historic emancipation and asked multidisciplinary and contemporary artist Natusha Croes to tackle the subject of Ancestral Memory.
Natusha collaborated with two other local artists Darwin Winklaar, a fashion designer and music producer, and Layzmina Emerencia, Dance teacher/Cultural coach/Dancer and creator, with input from Kevin Gumbs, and produced a 90 minute presentation, including dance, music and video, based on research she conducted here, combing through materials at the Aruba National Archives, the Aruban Museum Foundation, Aruba’s National Archaeological Museum, Aruba’s National Library, with the help of the Department of Culture, and professionals Luc Alofs and Kenny Meyers.
Natusha, Darwin and Layzmina explored their own ancestry, together, on stage, for the first time. As they examined their ancestors, they found out how impacted they were by the events related to their heritage and the hidden family stories, finally uncovered.
In digging into their roots Natusha and Darwin, who are light-skinned, came across documents that revealed African origins. Layzmina, true to her heritage, has dedicated her studies to decolonization and transformation, and has cherished her role as a teacher of Social Justice and Diversity in the Arts.
To prove their point, Aruba’s archives list many sale records of Mulatto boys, Mestizo, Negressa, Negerin, Negro, to owners with Dutch-sounding names, for 80 to 150 pessos — I found one as early as 1752, leading into the 19th century, until after emancipation in 1864.
The production of Ancestral Memories hopes to stimulate dialogue on the subject. In collaboration with Cas di Cultura they are aiming to get 4,000 school kids to the performance. Over the past few weeks they had 2,000 of them in attendance, and another round of performances is due in September, which will help them fulfill their goal.
While Curacao was a well-established slave trading post for the Dutch West-Indian Company, Aruba had less to offer in view of poor soil and no water. But at the wake of the slave revolt in Haiti, and the declaration of independence for that island, in 1804, from the French, merchants from Curacao felt the brewing of discontent on their island and relocated to Aruba, with their households. Some prospered, some slipped into poverty, but their descendants, and the descendants of the slaves they imported make up the diverse tapestry of Aruba’s society. Natusha concludes by saying: Let us create space for our silenced stories, to face an empowered future!
Thanks to the following cultural patrons: Mondriaan Fonds, DNB Fonds Caribbean (administered by Prins Bernhard Cultuurfonds Caribisch Gebied) and Fonds Podiumkunsten.
