Dara E Healy

IN SOUTH Africa, they have the vuvuzela, in Australia, the didgeridoo and in Brazil the berimbau, traditionally associated with capoeira. In India, there is the veena, with the Saraswati eena said to be the most renowned of this type of instrument.

In TT, we have the steelpan, one of the few instruments in the world to be officially designated a national instrument.

However, in spite of all the accolades and the commemoration of World Steelpan Day tomorrow, it sometimes feels as though we still need to meet the pan. I often feel we have not really taken the time to get to know her or understand how to tap into her essence for transformation and peace.

I think the official designation was important. Just over 30 years after the idea was first broached by former prime minister Patrick Manning, it feels good that pan is finally being seen, perhaps in ways that were not even possible back in 1992.

The legalising of pan as our national instrument has led to declarations about the doors that will be opened for strategic investments and tourism. Much has been made of how it will affect our reputation in the global entertainment industry. Commentators speak about the potential to commercialise our instrument and the anticipated benefits.

But there is another kind of conversation worth having. Pan is more than the only acoustic instrument created in the last century. To understand her, we must go back to the beginning, to the drum, ancestral spirit of the pan. In fact, to truly know and understand the pan we must travel even further back and delve into her connection with African spirituality.

In Orisa in Trinidad, Funso Aiyejina and Rawle Gibbons discuss the retention of Yoruba spirituality and cultural forms. For them, pan is 'another descendant of Orisa/Africa drums,' emerging after the drum was banned in 1884. Scholars maintain that the progression from tamboo bamboo to biscuit tin and ping pong demonstrates the powerful influence of the African drum.

Maureeen Warner-Lewis points out that the organisation of tamboo bamboo bands and steelband orchestras are similar, incorporating instruments of varying depths to 'produce a range of pitches, from tinkling soprano to rumbling bass.' She notes that this is different from the way orchestras from European traditions, for instance, are structured. In the steelband, emphasis is placed on percussive instruments or drums.

Patrick Roberts writes, 'Under the protection of Ogun, the Yoruba god of iron…many of the things that were used in their enslavement were transformed into the implements for celebration in worship, masquerade and music.'

In talking with elders from Despers and other bands, I have been told that early steelbands in Laventille frequently rehearsed in the Orisa yards. The yards would have been safe spaces for the often-ostracised pan players, as they tuned and innovated the instrument of which we are so proud today.

Why should any of this matter? I had the opportunity to chat with a parent of one of the children