by Erllane PEREZ SANCHEZ
Being born in Guadeloupe with Dominican origins has always offered me a double culture, rich and contrasted. This mixture allowed me to navigate between two ways of living, thinking, and most importantly… believing. At a very young age, I noticed differences in the way religion is practiced and perceived in these two Caribbean territories. However, I had never really questioned these contrasts in depth. It was only through the Religion and Society course that I began to think seriously about how religion adapts to different cultures, social contexts, and even migration.
Guadeloupe and the Dominican Republic are geographically close, but culturally they have important nuances when it comes to religion. In Guadeloupe, I grew up in an environment where religion is lived freely and often personally. Although Christianity is very present, beliefs are mixed with cultural practices, African influences, and an openness of mind that allows everyone to live their faith or not in their own way. It is not an imposed religion, but rather a legacy that everyone adapts.
In the Dominican Republic, the relationship to religion has always seemed more rigid, even normative. There, many people tend to want to impose their religious vision on others as if there is only one good way to believe. Some practices are judged, and it may be frowned upon not to go to church or to question certain dogmas. We feel a strong influence of Catholicism, but also the rise of evangelical movements sometimes very conservative.
A very striking example for me: in the Dominican Republic, I attended a family discussion where a young girl was criticized because she had chosen to leave her mother’s evangelical church to pursue another form of spirituality. This created a conflict. In Guadeloupe, such a decision would surely have been received with less judgment. These are small details, but they show that freedom of conscience is not lived in the same way everywhere.
Between two worlds, and even more
Growing up between two cultures taught me to observe the details: the words used to talk about God, the gestures, the silences, the freedoms granted or not. What I learned in the course is that these differences are not insignificant. They are part of a broader value system that shapes behaviour, intergenerational relationships and even gender roles.
I also made a parallel with the Panjabis of Southall, seen in class. They too live in a dual culture: that of their origins and that of their daily life in the United Kingdom. Like me, they must juggle between tradition and modernity, between family transmission and adaptation to another way of life. What struck me was the way in which religion becomes a source of strong identity, but also sometimes of tension, especially among young people who want to live differently. Their reality is not the same as mine, but the feeling of having several cultural landmarks seemed very close.
Today, I no longer see religion as a frozen block, but as something that transforms, adapts and lives differently according to cultures. What I have learned in my own life, and reinforced by the course, is that religion is intimately linked to history, society and personal emotions. It can gather or divide, release or lock up, all depending on the context.
Understanding these differences does not mean judging but developing a respectful curiosity. It is also a way to better understand myself, as a young Caribbean woman with two rich heritages, sometimes contradictory, but always sources of reflection.
References:
Furseth, I., & Repstad, P. (2006). An Introduction to the Sociology of Religion: Classical and Contemporary Perspectives (Chapters 7 & 8). Aldershot: Ashgate.
Video: Panjudis of Southall. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yi1pc9Y6kEI&t=1241s
Aimé Césaire (1947). Cahier d’un retour au pays natal