Finding a Home for the Fair
Bethia
Bethia Caffery, whom many call the mother of the St. Petersburg International Folk Fair Society (SPIFFS), is a 78-year-old Southern matriarch whose cloudy blue eyes, sharp and serene, express continuous wonder. She spins the story of the world as a single tale, speaking like a grandmother telling anecdotes from the life of her family, chiding entire countries like children whose wars are mere sibling rivalries in her description.
She tells of the formation of Fijian society, describing how war first came to the island nation, and pauses to mention the Armenian genocide in 1915. “The Turks were bad people for a little [while] there,” she says quietly, her Atlanta-born tongue betraying itself in the last word, regally offered as “they-ah.”
Years ago, she says, members of SPIFFS from a variety of different cultures came together to celebrate Tet, the Vietnamese New Year holiday. As gifts, the other groups donated clothes from their own closets. But the Vietnamese immigrants misunderstood the meaning of the gesture, thinking the secondhand clothes were an insult. Even this slight misperception drives the clouds from Caffery’s blue eyes now, years later, making them blaze with sorrow and regret. “You can’t hurt other people,” she says.
Goldy
Zlacko “Goldy” Horvatich, 60, has been involved with SPIFFS since his country’s sovereignty was recognized in 1992. He speaks in the cadence of an anthem, his sentences pirouetting on the r’s, so the word “everything” is four syllables when he says, “It means ev-er-y-thing to me, you know … to say that I am Croatian and to share Croatian culture.”
Horvatich is single, with no children. He speaks of his culture slipping away from the young Croatian immigrants. “Young people, they lose identity in America very, very fast,” he says. “They like to go to McDonald’s, or even Hooter’s … They speak English with no accent.” But this to him is progress, not necessarily a bad thing, as long as Mom and Dad can keep the languages and traditions of their country alive, he says.
Horvatich himself will always be divided between his home and his fatherland. “My heart is in Croatia,” he says, “but ev-er-y-thing else is in this country.”
Alvin and M.J.
Mado “M.J.” Jaimangal, 53, sits behind the cluttered desk in his office at the Academy of Beauty and Business at 3301 Third Ave. N., beleaguered with phone calls, the walls bedecked with certificates and framed photographs of him posing with the president of Guyana. Before him rests a pile of paperwork, at least some of which is related to SPIFFS. The time commitment required to be on the organization’s board of directors is prohibitive, he says, but the aims of the society appeal to his strong sense of heritage. “I’m awfully busy,” he says. “I don’t have time for this nonsense, I really don’t.” His scowl softens. “But again, I like my culture.”
His son Alvin, 30, having completed a brief maintenance project, has been wandering in and out of the office and eventually sits down to hear his dad talk about SPIFFS, an organization Alvin’s been a part of for much of his life. “Whether he likes it or not, he helps every damn year,” M.J. says.
Alvin is quiet while his father discusses growing up as a Guyanese-born son of two Indian immigrants to Guyana. He remains quiet until his father starts talking again about SPIFFS, lamenting the fact that the society lacks a strong appeal to younger members. Finally, the American-born Alvin joins the discussion, voicing his opinion that most of SPIFFS fund-raising activities “are things old people like to do.”
Then it’s M.J.’s turn to be quiet. He watches with pride as Alvin takes over his narrative, bringing up his own ideas for the future of SPIFFS, talking about the effect the organization has had on his prejudices. But as the subject turns to whether Alvin will join the board, he hesitates. “I’m younger,” he says, “I have different agendas … before I take a step into that.” Maybe when he’s older. When he’s settled. When he can dedicate more time.
Ajla
20-year-old Ajla Hajro is a first-generation immigrant from Bosnia, SPIFFS’ newest member group, joining only two years ago. When she found out about the organization, she says she told her parents immediately that she wanted to join. So she and her friends dress in traditional Bosnian attire and do their best to educate others about their culture.
Ajla’s family left Bosnia for Germany before the war, when she was only 9 years old. It’s a different country now, she says, much altered by war. But what she remembers, she wants to pass on. “I want [my kids] to know the language,” she says, “no matter who I marry … It’s just passing on something from where they’re from.”
Mark your calendars. The 2004 St. Petersburg International Folk Fair is scheduled as usual for next spring, March 19-21. But leave a space -- organizers don’t yet know where it will be.
The fair, a weeklong festival of traditional international singing, dancing, food and fashion, has been held in the Bayfront Center for the past several years. But the Bayfront is scheduled for demolition in May 2004, and the organizers of the folk fair don’t know whether they want it to be the send-off for the doomed center.
The St. Petersburg International Folk Fair Society (SPIFFS) is a non-profit umbrella organization that unites almost 40 ethnic groups, each made up of at least 20 people, to give presentations about their cultures in events staged throughout the year. The most renowned of these is the annual fair.
In the past, when the folk fair hasn’t been held at the Bayfront, it was at Tropicana Field or Vinoy Park. But Tropicana Field, the largest venue in the area and an ideal venue for the festival, is unavailable. It is reserved almost exclusively for baseball events, laments SPIFFS founder Bethia Caffery, 78. When the fair was held there in 1996, attendance soared to almost 60,000. In 2003, plagued by fears of terrorism and the distraction of a new war, the event drew a modest crowd, numbering between 21,000 and 26,000 attendees.
Vinoy Park was a problematic venue for SPIFFS when the event was held there several years ago. The threat of rain kept attendance figures relatively low and prevented the various cultural groups staffing booths at the fair from bringing their most interesting, valuable artifacts, says Mado Jaimangal, the Guyanese delegate to SPIFFS and a member of its board of directors.
For the tens of thousands of visitors to the event, many of them students from Tampa Bay area schools, the fair is a unique opportunity to experience a host of different cultures. The chance to discover and share their own traditions is what drives more than 3,900 volunteers to contribute to the event every year. “We are all very much excited about that, to be able to show who we are,” says Zlacko “Goldy” Horvatich, the Croatian delegate to SPIFFS.
Although it is the only month the society schedules no official activities, July is a crucial month for SPIFFS as it prepares for the busy year ahead. Inside the office, Rose Lawrence, a native of Fiji and one of SPIFFS’ only two full-time workers, sits surrounded by plates and hats from all across the world. On her desk, where one normally finds family photographs, a miniature globe sits tilted in its frame. This year, Lawrence, along with office manager Gail Wallace and the organization’s volunteer board, spends this time not only preparing mailings and grant applications, but also researching and negotiating options for a new venue in March.
They must choose between staying at the Bayfront Center, a building whose limited capacity has forced SPIFFS to house many exhibits in tents in the center’s parking lot in past years, and going to the Pinellas Expo Center, at 10601 U.S. 19 N. in Pinellas Park, far from St. Petersburg’s downtown.
This isn’t the first time SPIFFS has encountered displacement. In 1999, after much debate, the organization opted to sell the building it had occupied for more than 20 years on 2201 First Ave. N., moving into more humble quarters at Mirror Lake’s Sunshine Center. Two months ago, the society moved into its current quarters in a slightly larger office in the Mirror Lake complex. Many members await the time when SPIFFS will again occupy a building of its own.
Nor are the individual members unused to relocating. A significant number of the society’s 71 delegates are first-generation immigrants, men and women who’ve moved to America from other countries. Their hopes for their organization echo their hopes for themselves and their families -- finding a home, a comfortable place to preserve and share their culture.
