It’s 5am. I’m up, but not awake in the sense of fully
functioning. We’ve made it ashore under the cover of darkness, lured by the
incessant beat of the Jab Jabs gearing up in the distance.
It’s the morning of Jouvert – first parade of Carnival 2013
in Grenada. It’s a tradition that may very well date back to the days of
slavery but I don’t think many know the details of the actual roots. I’ve heard
there will be men covered in motor oil, devil’s horns and chains, prowling the
streets, scaring children.
The sailing community is here in full force, the dinghy dock
is packed and all of us hurry out from the relative safety of the yacht club,
to the unknown beyond…
I could use a coffee or a few hours of sleep – given that the
night before, the music onshore permeated the anchorage and bled right through
to the morning.
Instead we hit the road, which is already covered in a thick
slick of oil, and smells of a mechanic shop. It was no rumour. There are men
and women everywhere, covered from head to toe in used black oil. They carry
buckets and bottles and pour it in copious amounts over themselves and friends
and even tiny children.
There are shopping carts and baby strollers and wheelchairs,
all being wildly wheeled here and there, drunken revelers falling out into the
gummy streets. Luckily these are all props and no babies or handicapped are
injured in the frenzy. Many have linked themselves together with chains,
dragging themselves along together, swaying with the heart thumping bass. The
scene is reminiscent of the transport of slaves.
The whole thing is eerie and sordid and grimy and then
again, a bit magical in the twilight before dawn. We are silent observers here,
unbothered and uninteresting, watching as if invisible, trying with little
success, to understand the mayhem growing around us.
But as the day emerges from the devilish spectacle, the
colours follow in bursts and the street comes alive with an energy unmatched.
We are now in the crowds, undulating, splattered with red and blue and silver
and gold, the paint which at first is paraded in uniform coloured groups,
starts to blend as people bump and grind and smear and hug and rub their way
along. The Chocolate Mas truck, complete with huge vats of melted chocolate,
which is poured over heads and down shirts and pants, adds to the pungent
aromas…
We are a soup of calypso, with the songs playing over and
over again, from one huge speaker laden truck to the next, the crowd is one
whole, where there are no rules, no sense and no stress.
“I want a fat gal, I want a rolli polli” ,like an anthem,
draws cheers and hands in the air, and hips everywhere gyrating. “Rolli polli –
fat gal roll it”….
No woman is concerned about her figure, about muffin tops or
tummy rolls here. It’s all celebrated and slicked with a rainbow of oily
colour.
“Mas on de plane, mas on de train, mas on de road…” another
of the 2013 carnival hits, serenades us all, urging the crowd over and over
again to restore their energy, dance, dance and dance some more.
There are songs about rum and sex and dancing and forgetting
all your stress and worries.
And by the end, we have all forgotten any judgments or
questions and we have jumped in with both feet, sliding along the oily roads,
singing along, hopping over one armed baby dolls, broken computers and defunct
ceiling fans, all dipped in oil and being dragged along with the crowds at our
feet.
And this is just the first morning. The next 24 hours will
entail three more intense parade experiences – from the pretty Mas where groups
with elaborate and wonderful costumes, display their colours and choreographed
talents, to the lights parade in the evening, running to the wee hours, and
finally to the last day where the parade is a mix of everything, the pinnacle
of the celebrations, that despite officially ending around 6pm, goes on way way
way into the dark of the still Grenada night.
These hours of parades and partying will be a unique and more than colourful experience. They
will entail a display of Grenada’s party side – their biggest annual celebration,
months in the planning and days in the rum soaked enjoying… and we are so lucky
to have been witnesses, welcomed and embraced and fully enveloped in the Mas
vibes.
