Wednesday, March 16, 2011

Prince’s Bar

This is the first bar I saw that works with a flooded floor! Due to heavy overnight rains the entire bar and sitting area was flooded. This was still operational. Mind you the bar was rocking at 7:00 am with every one drunk, even though it was still raining heavily. This is my aunt’s and uncle’s bar.

Prince, my uncle, is THE man. He has always been in charge of his own destination. Eighteen years ago Prince had a horrible car accident that left him in a wheelchair for life. His legs cannot function. Before the accident, Prince had one of the first successful roadside stands. He sold fresh food and snacks. That little stand in front of Morocco’s Nite Club was rocking in the 80s. I remembered back in the day when I was “walking the road” I would take my friends to Prince and we would eat our belly full. De man is also the first African Guyanese I knew would could make a duck curry that would rival any Indian Guyanese. After the accident, he bought this little bar that turned out to be a neat little place.

Today, both of Prince’s legs are infected from being in the wheelchair. The wounds are too graphic even for me to discuss. Words nor pictures could do any justice. They are about 6-8 ins in length and 3-4 ins in diameter, and about 2-3 ins in depth. A doctor has cut away all the dead cells and Prince goes to the hospital daily to change his bandages.

As he left for the hospital today, my aunt asked if I could help with raising the freezer since the bar was flooded. With the help of their son, we emptied the freezer, washed it out, and restocked it. We decided that the whole bar needed a good deep cleaning. So in true professional hospitality and sanitary style we gave the bar a once over.

Prince came back and we did not want him to come in since it was still wet. But he knew something was up since he left it wet. So he rolled in and the tears rolled. This strong proud man was humbled by a little cleaning. I thought spending time with my cousin was more fun filled with memories, jokes and laughter. Unknowingly, we touched him.

As he resumed bartending duties, we sipped a stout. About half an hour later Prince rolled out the back door and we could see the pain in his face as he said, “I can not take it anymore, the pain is too much. You take care of the bar and help me get into bed.” We helped him to bed and could hear his groaning for hours as he tried to sleep. My aunt closed the bar. Late in the afternoon, after my cousin left he called back to ask his  mother if he could move back home. He was willing to pitch in and help. I am beyond excitement. At least, Prince could get some rest and may be able to heal. Life goes on.Father, mother, son, grandson, step girlfriend will fend for themselves and hope they all get along. Small victory for family!