Election Fever

We arrived on the main island during an election campaign. Two days before election day, we headed north, along narrow, winding roads over the backbone of the main island, the Etang Forest, to Grenville. As we approached the main intersection of this second largest city in Grenada, we could see hundreds of yellow shirts milling around, blocking all traffic; one guy stood atop a truck whirling and dancing.

We took a detour and reached a road that ran along the seashore, a quiet road… …or so we thought. I parked and we left the car to investigate a ruined church, overgrown with vines, and some distance back down the street. It was midday and very hot; we slowly walked along trying to stay in the shade. As we reached the church we heard music from the approaching throng and we turned back toward the car. In our absence, the sidewalks on both sides had filled with yellow shirts to greet the parade as it rolled through. I counted more than one hundred vehicles and what seemed like a thousand people or more.

Grenada, like all former British colonies, is a parliamentary democracy headed by a Governor General who represents the Queen. The population of approximately 100,000 (around the size of Red Deer, Worcester UK or Springfield IL) is governed by its elected House of Representatives; all 15 seats were being contested. Posters of the two main parties were plastered everywhere and we found several major rallies underway.

These two parties were recognisable by their supporter’s shirt colour – green for the NNP (conservative) and yellow for the NDC (centre left). This is not Canada though; in the days leading up to voting day, thousands of supporters flood the streets parading along on trucks and cars, as well as running along beside. The trucks have huge speaker systems blasting out rock and rap music as they call to the faithful.

As we weaved through the crowd toward our vehicle a large man loomed threateningly in front of me. He appeared intoxicated and Carol (as she does) moved to intervene… Before she could get in front of me though a small woman, standing on a wall to one side, shouted: “Janny! …calm down.” He relaxed, but still stood in my way. She snapped: “Janny, let the man pass,” he laughed and stepped aside. I rubbed his arm as I passed and thanked the woman. We got in the car and drove slowly through the crowd as they waved and slapped our vehicle enthusiastically.

Driving south, we came to the end of the parade only to see knots of green shirts waiting beside the road for their trucks to pick them up. And, a little further on, there they were, music blaring, green shirts waving and singing. It was tempting to be part of it – but we drove on to our hotel.

Voting underway

Tuesday came and all the stores were closed; everywhere, people were voting. We drove to the north of the island to seek leatherback turtles and as we drove through each community, women sat at small tables beside the road with their spreadsheets open as people lined up to vote. 

On the way back, we stopped at the Grenada Chocolate Factory (that’s another story coming soon) and were introduced to the owner, I asked him if he’d voted. ‘Of course,’ he said, ‘we all have.’ He held out his fingertip so I could see the ink. “That’s how we make sure you only vote once!”

The strange thing was, I saw thousands of yellow-shirted demonstrators and maybe as many greens, but the green NNP Party swept all 15 seats.