Satiricus was grinning from ear to ear. He was Guyanese and being told, “Go fly a kite!’ wasn’t a term of dismissal, like with the Americans. That set Satiricus wondering about that lot and their quaint sayings. He could understand “go chase yourself”, “go climb a tree”, “go jump in the lake”, “go sit on a tack” or “go soak your head” as telling someone to quit bothering them, but “go fly a kite”?
“Hey,” thought Satiricus, “That is fun!!” He’d arrived at the Back Street Bar by now and hadn’t realised he’d spoken out aloud, until Bungi asked:
“Yuh damn rite a fun when abee a drink beer!”
“Oh…I was actually thinking about kite flying,” he explained to his friends as he picked up his waiting beer.
“Kite flyin’?” asked Cappo with a laugh. “De only kite you can mek a dem kankawa wan!!”
“Well, maybe,” admitted Satiricus. “But nowadays I can just buy one of those Chinese plastic ones!!”
“Now, Sato!” protested Hari. “That’s no fun! What is Easter if you don’t make kites for the children?”
“Yes, Sato,” said Bungi. “You cyaan mek dem Chinee kite dance like Bull Cow and cut people kite wid dem tail!”
“I’na jus’ fuh fly de kite,” said Cappo earnestly. “Ha’f de fun a fuh mek de kite!”
“You can say that again,” exclaimed Hari feelingly.
“Rememba how you and yuh Daady use fuh guh fuh pick gamma cherry fuh paste de kite pay-pa pan de frame?” Bungi asked Satiricus.
“I remember,” said Satiricus. “But things change, fellas. You don’t tear up old bed sheets to make the tail!”
“Me na know ‘bout da!” protested Cappo. “Me son a guh Callege now. But ya still come fuh me mek ‘e kite loop. Abee a keep close.”
“So what are you trying to tell us Sato,” enquired Hari. “Your wife won’t be cooking up the aloo ball and pine tart when we go tomorrow to the sea wall?”
“Well, not EVERYTHING has to change!” grinned Satiricus.
