JEAN BAULU - A BRENNAN MEMORY

There are so many unforgettable moments and stories of Jean Baulu’s life that could be told, but here is one episode in particular that I will always remember.

We all know that Jean was a real Renaissance man, a guy of infinite curiosity and many, many talents, interests and pursuits. With his mischievious, “taquin” personality, he loved to go into forbidden areas, explore the unexplored, needle people with sometimes uncomfortable questions, and generally try to figure out the mysteries of life, both large and small. What many people don’t know is that among his many talents, Jean was also a pretty skilled diplomat.

It was 1992, and we were living in Caracas, Venezuela. Jean and Suzanne and little Isabelle came to visit from Barbados, along with Jean’s childhood friend Daniel Couvreur, a well-known international artist. Jean and Daniel were particularly fascinated – almost obsessed – with the fearsome Yanomami people, a tribe that lives in isolation south of the Orinoco River in the Amazon region of Venezuela and Brazil. Along with our good friend Spencer Moore, we arranged a “guys trip” down to the area, and found a guide who could help us make contact with some of the Yanomami people. (I haven’t been able to find the photos we took of this excursion, but I hope to post them when I do)

As there were no roads into the area, we first flew into a small landing strip next to a missionary outpost on the fringes of Yanomami land. The Evangelical missionaries very kindly put us up for the night, but became a bit disconcerted when Jean pulled out the two gallon jug of Barbados rum punch he had brought along for “evening vespers”. Recognizing that the missionaries weren’t very happy, Jean quickly explained to them that the reason we had such a large quantity of the punch was in case the plane ran out of fuel. I’m not sure this really reassured or convinced our missionary friends, but they let us stay the night.

The following morning we all got into a couple of dugout canoes to make the trip upriver to one of the “fringe” Yanomami communities that were known to accept some contact with the outside world. Upon arriving at the village, we were met at the river bank by a few of the village men, while most of the others, including many women and children, stood back at a distance, peering out from their mud and straw huts.

After an initial conversation with our guide, the main interlocutor and seeming chief of the community approached us in our dugouts, checking us and the contents of our boats carefully. The “chief” appeared to be particularly attracted to the bright lures that Spencer had brought along for fishing in the river. The chief got very animated, and making a variety of gestures, guttural noises, and clicking sounds (the Yanomami language is a clicking language) he began taking the lures and hanging them on his ears and in his matted hair. Recognizing an opportunity to engage, Jean stepped forward and started helping the chief, all the while making guttural sounds and clicking noises of his own. We weren’t sure what his noises meant (as was often the case with Jean) but they seemed to trouble the chief a bit, as his brow furrowed and he backed away from us, taking the lures with him. Obviously, Spencer wasn’t happy either.

At this point, Jean quickly went to his duffle bag and pulled out a whole bunch of bright-looking picture and coloring books, along with crayons for the children. The chief seemed to like this, and came forward again to check the books out, again making guttural sounds and clicks as he inspected them. Again seizing the opportunity to engage, Jean handed a few books to the chief, and then proceeded to hand out more books and crayons to the kids, who had now drawn closer. This time the chief was clearly not happy, grabbing the books and crayons from the kids, and clutching them in his arms. In typical Baulu fashion, Jean went over to the chief, and in his French-ified version of clicks, grunts, and “No, no, no!” pulled some of the materials back from the chief to give them again to the kids. Daniel, Spencer, and I were preparing ourselves to hightail it down to the canoes, but whatever it was that Jean had said or done in that furious little flurry with the chief seemed to have done the trick – he let us hand out the goodies to the kids, and we eventually got away from there unscathed, and on seemingly good terms. With his unusual form of jungle diplomacy, Jean saved the day! 

Wherever Jean is now, there are two things I know for sure: if he's up at the Pearly Gates, my namesake, St. Peter, certainly has his hands full right now, but there are a whole bunch of folks up there in heaven who are having a lot more fun and entertainment than they ever had before, because Jean is with them!

My family first met Jean, Suzanne, Kat and Cui in 1979 when they came to the Sandridge Hotel where we were staying. The children were instant friends and from that time, when in Barbados, we either had four children or none, as they did not want to be parted. As adults we became very close friends.

Jean has been important to me ever since that first meeting. He was aware of our influence on the environment long before it was spoken of in the media. I remember the first time the family came to visit us in the UK, he told us that he had an idea to open a ‘Wildlife Reserve in Barbados’ He had it planned that he would set aside land to grow bananas to feed the monkeys. He also insisted that the monkeys should be allowed to come and go at will. They were not to be restrained but would choose to visit the reserve to get their food. It was also on that visit that Suzanne told us that she was expecting another baby – Isabelle.

Jean later attended the very first ‘Earth Summit’ in Rio. When we visited Barbados he showed us the place where he was making roof tiles out of recycled plastic. He also worked on a project to save the baby turtles whose Mother’s nested on the beaches on the island, and were confused by the lights. He presented at a Conference in Beijing on the environment which we all attended.

Our two families travelled extensively together, and to travel with Jean was always fun. I remember being at an airport when there was a final call for Mr Jean Baulu, who was not to be rushed as he was taking at Espresso. Jean had a great sense of mischief, and in that he was very like my husband Harald. Harald considered him his best friend. Jean was also determined to live the way he chose. He persued his interests to the end. I remember him still scuba diving, playing golf and taking out his boat last Christmas.

I will always miss Jean, like a family member, and wish his family strength to cope with the loss.     Much love from Jackie , Cathy, Jim, Clara, Lucy and Ana