GROWING UP GUYANESE: BARREL CULTURE, PRAGS, AND COMMUNITY CARE
If you grew up in the Caribbean, you probably know the smell. Cardboard and plastic wrap, crisp clothes, the rubber of sneakers, a whiff of soap powder, and the cool metal of sardine tins and canned goods packed in tight. It all carried a freshness you could only describe one way. It smelled farin.
In Guyana, that’s how we say “foreign,” the Creolese way. In my house in the late ’80s, farin was the smell of the barrel that showed up right before Christmas. It meant the prags had finally arrived.
The barrels often came to us in Guyana from New York or London, packed with everything you could imagine as a child. When my mom returned from the wharf with them, we’d wait eagerly for the moment we heard the padlock unlock, the metal clasp unhinge, and the plastic cover come off. My siblings and I knew exactly what to dig for first, Quality Street chocolates, Family Circle biscuits, Milo, and of course, toys.
Family photos from the 1980s. My sisters, our mom, and me as a toddler, with the barrels in the background.
The history of the Caribbean barrel
It took me years to learn that the barrel has a much older story in the Caribbean, and a deeper and more complicated one.
As European colonies built plantation economies across the region in the 1600s, wooden barrels became essential to the trade. Sugar, molasses, rum, and tobacco, produced by enslaved Africans, were packed into large casks called hogsheads and shipped across the Atlantic to Europe. That trade linked Europe, Africa, and the Americas in what we now call the triangular trade, and it sustained an economy built on slavery.
Barrels traveled on the slave ships too. Casks of food and water were stored in the hold, directly beneath the decks where enslaved Africans were packed in rows for the crossing.
Cross-section of a slave ship, from Léon Renard’s L’Art naval, 1881. Enslaved Africans confined between decks, with casks of provisions stored in the hold below. Source: WSJ.
Over time, the barrel itself changed. Heavy oak gave way in the 20th century to lighter, cheaper fiberboard drums, and later to plastic.
Fiberboard and plastic barrels. Source: Scope of Work.
It’s hard to hold that history next to Quality Street chocolates and the sound of a padlock opening, but I think it matters that we do. The same object that once carried the wealth taken from our ancestors became, generations later, the way their descendants took care of each other.
The barrel as a lifeline
After the Second World War, Caribbean people began migrating in large numbers to Britain, the United States, and Canada, and the barrel went with them. What had once carried sugar and rum out of the region now carried care back into it.
For many children, the barrel stood in for a parent who was working far away. In Jamaica, they even have a name for the kids, they call them barrel children. Families abroad filled barrels with food, clothes, shoes, school supplies, and toys, and shipped them home to the people they’d left behind.
For my family, the barrel was the thread between places. When my parents traveled or visited family in New York and London, a barrel would follow them home, usually arriving a few weeks later, right around Christmas. Family members abroad sent barrels too, and for a time, when my dad lived in the UK, the barrels came from him. Every one of them meant someone far away had been thinking of us.
What it means to me now
As a kid, the barrel meant chocolate and toys. It wasn’t until I got older, and moved away from Guyana myself, that I began to understand what it took to fill one.
I learned about the cost of living, about responsibility, and about making a budget work. I’ve watched my parents pack barrels over the years, and it’s never an easy or one-day job. Most families shop for theirs all year, buying canned goods and other staples in bulk, a little at a time, so the barrel is full and ready to ship home in time for Christmas.
Life abroad moves fast. People work long days, then go out to shop, making what they earn overseas cover their own lives and the needs of the people back home. Physically filling an entire barrel on top of all that is a lot of work.
Knowing that now, I see every barrel I ever opened differently. Behind the chocolates and the new shoes was thought, consideration, planning, and even sacrifice. The barrel was never just a delivery. It was an act of care.
That care didn’t stop at our front door, either. Once a barrel was opened, the goods were shared out with extended family, neighbors, and even fellow church members, especially elderly folks. Sometimes it was just a small bag containing a can of sardines, a pack of biscuits, some tea bags, and chocolates. Nobody was left out, and everybody knew what it meant when you showed up at their door with a little something in hand.
“Ah get prags!”
Why Prags
In Guyana, prags are goods and gifts from family and friends, sent with love, and always worth the wait.
That’s the spirit behind Prags, the vintage and secondhand collection at Lillian & Joan. Every piece is hand-selected, just like the things that went into a barrel, chosen because it’s worth keeping and worth passing on. Many of these pieces have already lived a life somewhere else, and now they’re ready to be someone’s prags again.
The barrel taught me that the things we pass to each other carry more than their weight. They carry the thought, the planning, and the care of the person who chose them. I hope something in Prags carries a little of that for you.
Sharing was always part of the tradition, so 5% of net proceeds from the Prags collection goes to World Central Kitchen, helping feed communities in times of need.
Frequently asked questions
What does “prags” mean in Guyana?
In Guyanese Creolese, prags are goods and gifts sent from family and friends, often from abroad. If someone says “Ah get prags!” or “Yuh prags reach!” it usually means a barrel or package has arrived, filled with food, clothes, and little treats chosen with love.
What does “farin” mean?
Farin is the Creolese way of saying “foreign,” meaning overseas. For many Guyanese families, things that “smell farin” bring back the excitement of opening a barrel from abroad.
What is a Caribbean barrel?
A Caribbean barrel is a large fiberboard or plastic drum that families living abroad fill with food, clothing, toiletries, school supplies, and gifts, then ship home to relatives in the Caribbean. Many families shop for it all year so it arrives in time for Christmas.
What are barrel children?
“Barrel children” is a term that started in Jamaica for children raised in the Caribbean while one or both parents worked abroad. The barrels their parents sent home often stood in for the parents themselves, bringing care and connection across the distance.
What is the Prags collection?
Prags is the vintage and secondhand collection at Lillian & Joan, inspired by Caribbean barrel culture. Every piece is hand-selected, and 5% of net proceeds goes to World Central Kitchen to help feed communities in need. For more pieces inspired by home, explore The Guyana Edit.
About the author: Krystle DeSantos is the founder and creative director of Lillian & Joan. She grew up in Guyana and is now based in New York. Read more about Lillian & Joan.