It’s a cool and breezy Marley birthday in Lower Tumon, Guam, and I’m sitting on the second story veranda of the Tumon Bay Bar and Grill. A reggae roots trio is entertaining tonight, led by Art Chan, a local reggae hero.

By Roger Steffens

Their bassist is ill tonight, so Fanai Tafari features a guest percussionist from the States named Brett, alongside Tomas, a round, sweet-faced 18-year-old ukelele virtuoso. On their first number, a soulful cover of Santana’s Europa, Tomas masterfully duplicates Carlos note-for-note, but with just four short strings. Brett has three large Polynesian-patterned congas, and a rectilinear box that makes a sound like a muffled cymbal.

Guam is an island that knows many RAW artistes, proven by Fanai Tafari’s cover of Bambu Station’s Gunsmoke. Art says, “People ask me all the time how come you love the music that’s from all the way over on the other side of the world.” He pauses, as if the answer is obvious. “It’s the message.” As for his own musical intentions, he is adamant that “the road to success is always under construction”.

I was brought to the island through the good graces of RAW’s members in Guam, a small band of true believers who meet once a week at the small apartment of Math Teacher/Reggae Fanatic Tom Pearson. Tom took over the leadership of this worldwide networking organisation following the retirement of its co-founder, Papa Pilgrim, almost a decade ago. He is a stocky, white-bearded fellow, whose life is devoted to the multi-cultural mix of students at St John’s School, the campus on which he lives.

He acts in loco parentis for at least nine of them, and – though a bachelor – seems to have his parenting skills down, a mix of discipline and a bit of nose-thumbing at authority, combined with goofy nicknames for his charges like Dirt Bag, Squishy and Gangsta. His other passion is Jah Music and the unheralded singers and players of instruments outside of Jamaica who are equally devoted, but given little chance to be heard. Thus his livication to the principles of RAW.

His closest associate these days is a warm, whispily bearded thirty-something Philipino named Art Chan. He is a former (‘very straight’) businessman who was being groomed to manage a major chain of restaurants. He sighted Jah and reggae just a few years ago, thanks largely to Tom’s radio show. So he left that Babylonian reality, trading it for a Rasta livity, and today they are partners on the air.

On Friday, February 2, I did a Life of Bob Marley multi-media presentation for the upper school students at St John’s. Their meeting hall had been turned into a combination of a Kingston clubroom and a 1950′s beatnik coffee house under the direction of Terry, one of the school’s art teachers, at whose apartment I stayed.

There were hundreds of red-gold-and-green balloons that students had spent hours inflating; screens and cocktail tables painted in the same colours; and lots of Marley posters throughout. The kids came from a multitude of Micronesian and Asian countries, and seemed eager to learn about the Reggae Prophet. I watched as they became absorbed in the unseen live performances, and a lengthy interview.

The following evening was the big show for the public, at the Core Beach Resort, a small 12-unit place with a trailer/bar and a field that held more than 300 people. A wide screen was set up, and as darkness descended, we watched a couple of hours of Marley’s finest moments.

Many folks wore their favourite Marley clothing, and sang along with the live bits. People who hadn’t come out for a long time were there that night to pay homage to Bob. Catering included a taste of the Isle of Springs from the Jamaica Grill, a successful local restaurant.