I am from Trinidad. We have own carnival. It is on the same day as well. It would be hard not to compare celebrations. I already have a deep and joyous history in Trinidad's carnival, but I must give this Mardi Gras a chance; at least, the opportunity to create wonder and excitement in me. I would be its puppet. In the end, I would know how Mardis Gras is. I would know if to give it the awe and status reserved for what I already love...Carnival.
It was Sunday night when we got into New Orleans. The outskirts of the city looked abandoned and unimportant. It was the distant glow from the city center that offered any sign of life. It's what you noticed as you made that final drive into the city. I-10, the main artery into the city, is an expansive 4 lane highway with many twist and turns. At the speed limit, riding I-10 was a roller coaster ride bringing you to the heart of the city.
When we arrived, its heart was beating wildly. There was a parade en route. Most of the the streets were cordoned off. We could not get to our hotel. Traffic was at a crawl. We called the front desk to ask how to get around. Impossible, they answered, as if it were foolish to even consider such a thing. I got the same reply when I asked policemen and natives. (I needed a second opinion). We were stuck but not dismayed. We were in New Orleans. Mardi Gras was happening. We needed to be part of it. We parked the car quickly as if it was more a burden than anything else. We were tired of making circles. The parking garage was far from the hotel. We didn't care. We would get to the hotel later, or better yet whenever. It was not going anywhere. There was more to do outside than inside.
The Bacchus parade that had stopped our advance to the hotel. Sunday was their day through the streets. Bacchus is the Greek god responsible for wine and song. He is the root of the word 'bacchanal', which means 'orgy'. What we were watching felt much like that. The crowds were heavy and energetic, enthusiastic to the point of exhaustion. Breathing room was at a bare minimum. You shared the same untidy desperate space with everyone else, desiring the same excitement. You were together but forcibly so.
The best real estate to watch the parade had been gobbled up earlier in the day, by nuclear and protective families. They developed their property well. Lawn chairs and coolers became landmarks that were well guarded, and served as fence posts to their property. Ladders became impromptu lookout points for children. From a distance, these ladders resembled guard turrets. The adults could climb them and watch with eagle eye for all the unacceptables. It was a scene. Suburbia had colonized the parade route for Mardi Gras.
The entire parade route was cordoned off with steel barricades. It stopped the families from colonizing anymore space. People crammed themselves against the steel curtain as if magnetized to it. Everybody was waiting for the Bacchus Parade to reach his/her spot. We did not mind waiting either because the temperature was perfect. The nighttime air was cool, comforting, even welcoming.
You could hear the parade before you could see it. The sound of enthusiasm and excitement rose to a crescendo as the parade came near. I could see the lead float. The smiling face of Bacchus slowly but surely coming towards me. His face stopped every now and then as if to say hello. The crowd responded thankfully with screams and yells. His face was bright and colorful lit up by well positioned lights in front of the float. I had never seen something like this before. It was an elaborate, colorful stage set on wheels. On the float, there were so many props and jubilant actors, all in splendid costume.
It was we, the spectators, who delivered the lines, "Mister, throw me some beads!". Man, woman and child, belted that refrain at the top of their lungs. The revelers on the float responded in kind. They flung beads at the crowds with uncaring aim and uncanny strength. Beads were in the air like wingless birds. I stood back watching. The revelers could not give away enough beads. It was like money, people wanted more. Unlike real money, they did get more. Float after float came by, necks were getting heavier and heavier with beads of all colors.
Adults and kids wore their beads proudly like jewelry precious and iridescent, or as medals hard fought and hard won, or sometimes both. I was in awe, and in confusion. Why throw beads? Why collect so many? It is a Mardi Gras tradition. The beads were a prize to be cherished, an award for attending. It is the gallantry of the event.
We stood there watching floats for at least 3 hours after which we could not take it anymore. My eyes were beginning to get numb. I needed some new stimulation. How about Bourbon St.? Who says no to Bourbon St.? We get there. We did not have to walk far. The time is well past 12. The parade is still not over. We will take the tour of the bars. Everything is expensive. We walk like tourist wide-eyed and hoping none of the filth rubs off on us. The smell is awful like you are below the sewage instead of above it. We walk for an hour very uninterested with everything. We are tired from the trip, circling the streets like some buzzards, and an endless parade. We decided to call it a night.
The streets are clear of people but their garbage is every where. The barricades have moved to open all the streets. The city can breath again after being choked up. We find our hotel easily. The hotel clerk is polite even at the hour we come in at. Our room is small and slopes a little bit, or is it I am tired and little tipsy? (It slopes. I check in the morning) We shower and prepare to sleep. The bed is a welcome sanctuary. Sleep comes faster than I could think about how my day was.
Today was the first day. And imagine, I have two more to go.
Inspired Trini
1 comment:
Nice photos, congrats!
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