What was Carnival like over 100 years ago

[Music] Welcome to the Noya Caribbean Podcast. This podcast is dedicated to bringing the life, Caribbean history and culture from our Hindu Caribbean experience, the lives of our indigenous people, the Arawak, Kalinago, Taino, and more. Our African heritage, and of course our gangster stories, a resistance of rebellion in the Caribbean. Throwing in the history of our music, food, and cultural practices. The more we know our history, the more we know ourselves. So get to know yourself and know your Caribbean. The Noya Caribbean Podcast. Welcome folks. Welcome, welcome, welcome to this episode of Noya Caribbean Podcast. Thank you guys so much for listening. Big up our Patreon policy, our Patreon family gets even more podcast episodes as not released to the general public. On top of all kinds of other books and presents. And you can join us on our Patreon at patreon.com/noyacarivian. Join us. Anyway, so we are jumping into this episode which I'm very, very, very excited about. There have been so many discussions about Carnival. And if any of you guys have spent anything more than five minutes on the Patreon, you'll know how much I love Carnival. Very passionate about preserving the heritage of what Carnival means. So I've dug up four very distinct stories of Carnival from the late 1800s to the early 1900s. The latest one being from 1909. And it's coming from four different Caribbean countries. So we're going to be covering Dominica, Martinique, Puerto Rico, and Cuba. So four very different carnivals. Manu, there are some synergies. And it's just amazing to see that we have continued this legacy. And it knows all about encouraging cultural preservation. And this is why New Caribbean exists. So we're going to jump right in. So I found this excerpt which was written in 1909 about Dominica Carnival, published in the Frank Leslie's Weekly in September 2nd, 1909. And the title of the article is, "When it rains, flowers, and confetti in the West Indies." And the excerpt goes like this. "The spirit of Carnival is never quite dead in the West Indies." Just the introductory line alone. Okay, people need to recognize these things. I think, you know, the frustration about how Carnival is just a seasonal thing. And it's just a thing that we do for two days in a year and that's it. The fact that this was written in 1909. Okay, this is like a hundred and thirteen years ago. It says, "The spirit of Carnival is never quite dead in the West Indies." True, it only comes once a year. But during its short stay, it makes such an impression that it is always uppermost, either in pleasurable recollection or keen anticipation. But there is only one thing more important, and that is a Christy procession. And it is doubtful which the laughter-loving natives would choose if you were to put on a test of choosing one of them. The passion of dancing and music is never dormant in the heart of the West Indien. Who, after all, is very little different from his African ancestors, despite the English influence which seeks to modernize him. Now, as we all know, when you read in all of these things, it is written by white folks with their own perceptions. But like I say, we don't have much choice because it's very little writing by black writers. Very little documentation coming from our own people. So we have to navigate around these writings by white people. And what I do is I traverse through the kind of colonial language to find the beauty of us. And sometimes it's tough, and sometimes you do find magic. Obviously, this is a woman called Harriet Quimby, so she is of course not from the Caribbean. So we're not going to find her speaking about us in a way in which her own privileges and whiteness does not resonate in the writing. But let us continue. It will take many generations before he loses his childlike and wholly delightful capacity for enjoyment. And it's love for the word and half-savage rights of his forefathers. Now, when people want to talk about savage, I am thinking we're doing some little thing on the road we were buying in and we're broken out. That's when they say savage and like, yeah, hell yeah. So, to the word and half-savage rights of his forefathers. The islands occupied by the Spanish are no less gait during carnival time, which is celebrated every Sunday during length. That's very interesting. Every Sunday during length, I thought the length you know so we're doing them things. But maybe it's religious-based celebrations? So it goes on to say, "But the rebels conducted by the Spanish are more like those held in Nice every year. And I compose a beautiful women in fancy costumes, men in grotesque disguises, and floats, some of which are flower-trimmed and beautiful, and others which are supposed to be comic." For the many weeks before carnival is due, the quaint little shops in the island's seaports are conspicuously displaying toys, gay little horns and masks of every description. Every year, the toys become more varied, for this is one thing in which a native munch and keeps strictly up to date. The masks worn by Spanish women are often fascinatingly mysterious. They consist of goggle-like covering for their eyes, from which depends a lace curtain just intricate enough in pattern to show the pretty cool of the mouth, with all disclosing the identity of the wearer. The masks worn by the colored reveler, especially in Martinique and Dominica, are made of fine white mesh shaped like a face. They are weird and ghost-like. The wire masks are at a premium because of their likeness, the perfect disguise which they furnish, and because of the ease with which their wearer can see through them. Now, some of you guys may recognize that the wire mesh mask of a white face. I've seen that on the short knee in Grenada. I've seen that in some of the junken who consumes by the garifuna people. Or the one naguwa. I've seen it with the one naguwa. I hope I'm pronouncing it correctly. Please, my beliefs family don't kill me. Our garifuna family, they have these masses white wire mesh masks. I've seen them in quite a few Masquerade fancy clown and antiga as well. This use of a white wire mesh mask, which is supposed to be mimicking the European colonizer. So, is this number you see that has been documented now here also in Martinique and Dominica in 1909. It goes on to say that carnivals held in Santa Domingo and Santiago and Cuba are interesting and sometimes beautiful. But for something quite out of the ordinary, the Torres Strait attend the Carnival in Dominica, which is now the guest for its size of all the islands. Majority of the survivors of a terrible Martinique disaster when Martinique wiped out the most fascinating, but most lollest of the West Indian cities. That's interesting that Saint Pierre in Martinique was seen as lollest. For those who don't know about the tragedy that happened, this was in 1902 when Paley, the volcano erupted and 30,000 people passed away in that eruption, which happened in a matter of seconds. But there were survivors and those who lost their homes and so on. But basically the whole town was taken out by the volcano. And those who did survive had to go to places like Saint Lucien Dominica and so on. The most fascinating, but most lollest of the West Indian cities fled in small boats overtaken by rescuing parties to Dominica, where they settled permanently. This account for the number of pretty French Creos seen in the marketplace and on the streets of Rosal. Pretty French Creos, so you know there's those kind of sprinkles of colorism and so on and there. So it goes on to say, the utter abandon of the Dominica native is a revelation to the Torres. Who has therefore seen only the colored population in our southern states. So clearly this post is American and she's in Dominica for whatever reason. I guess for carnival time. Well, I don't think she came into carnival time, but she is a southern white lady who's come to Dominica and has witnessed carnival. But clearly she has been around the Caribbean a bit for her to make comparisons of carnivals in other countries and seen like the Dominica is the best place. I find it very interesting. So it goes on to say, from all parts of the mountainous little island that country folk come with fruit and chicken, sometimes gain, selling the markets to swell as spending allowance for confetti. The traveler who spends a day or two in a row so at this time will be fully repaid for his discomfort in hotel accommodations with a variety of colors and sound which meets him at every turn. There is an infection of anticipation in the air and he will catch it in spite of himself. Possibly he will put you some of the really good candy made of cane syrup and fresh coconut and munch it as he wanders along the narrow path. couple streets enjoying the preliminary dancing and skipping of the children. He will never realize how calmly some of the blackest of black native women are until he sees them in holiday attire. Wow. And I'm not going to comment, let's keep it moving. With the brilliant turbulence of red and orange and green, or bright purple and orange, blues, blacks and moves, mingle together and freshly, calendared and tied, their trained dresses are equal brilliance but contrasting color to their turbulence and above all, their flashing eyes and white teeth. I will comment on the white teeth part though, because I find in a lot of the writings, like even from like the 1700s, I always say, "Oh, the Negroes are like they're really white teeth." I think there's nothing to say about black people and how we're taking about teeth. So go on to say, "They form a picture which delights the eye of the artist. Some of the young girls are beautiful in a bronze-like way and it is a pity that they cover their faces with masks and clothe themselves in costumes other than their own, which suit them so well." Just at sundown and before the native band with this really good music makes an appearance, the masqueraders seem to spring up from earth to form in procession and in 2s and 3s and groups pranks along the sidewalks into the central meeting place. Some of them are costume like genuine Africans with feather head dresses and bushy hair, hoop earrings, breech clothes and spare. Others are molasses men. Can we stop right here, right here? So we're talking about when you go to carnival and you see people cover in molasses and black oil and we call them job job or job molasses, or negoci wool or lanscord, right? Which are all things that we find across the Caribbean in Haiti, in Grenada, in Trinidad, across the Caribbean. And we see it here 100 plus years ago, the molasses men. Okay? So understand my Caribbean people when you're doing these things. Just remember these are things your ancestors did. Okay? It goes on to say their bodies are bare except for a girdle are covered with molasses, soot and a few feathers. There are sailors and priests and monks and goblins all fashioned in primitive native methods and there are bats, fish, frogs and devils. The spectators line up along the sidewalk and clap their hands and sing as the drums boom on the procession finally appears around the corner. For 15 or 20 minutes, the main street is filled with prancing, laughing, host of mascars, some of whom now and then to perform some grotesque dance. It was whining, which is distinctly African. There was definitely whining, but would nevertheless be recognized in some of the not over modest performances which have been introduced on stages of our theatre's dream last year. As the dancers passed, they are covered in confetti. In fact, everyone seems to throw something at somebody else. Flowers, sweets and confetti being the principal object, so callously flung at random. After the procession and before and after the dance, which sometimes continues until early morning, there is feasting and a menu containing everything but meats. As in all parts of the western days, codfish forms a staple diet of the natives who cook it with oil, rice, tomatoes and small peppers and serve them mixture with an accompaniment of alligator pairs. I feel she meant avocado pair because I guess she said the skin on the outside is like alligator, codfish, saltfish. During festival days, a different dish is prepared from the homely cod. Milk is a special luxury in the islands, but during carnival, it is brought into town by the country food, who rip or small harvests from their sails. The dried fish is cut into small pieces and cooked in plain water, served in a milk gravy as it is in the new England states. I've never had that, have you? The milk fish is considerably more expensive than the fish in tomato and rice, and this possibly has something to do with making it a feast delicacy. So it goes on to say, before the finale of the revel, a mannequin usually representing some bothersome evil, generally the most unpopular thing in the island life, the politics or sickness, is burned or flung into the sea with elaborate ceremony. This done, the troubles of also have been banished from the island and the merry makers gradually steal away to their homes, wary but happy. Now, some of my friends on Martinique and Guadalufa told me that they do this thing at the end of carnival with the burning effigy or something. It could be a COVID effigy or something that is plaguing a society, be the sickness or as it says, a politics or something, and the burning effigy to say this is going to be the end of this thing. And clearly it was something that was done in Dominica too. So I find this incredibly interesting, incredibly, incredibly interesting to see so many things that we do today that used to be done over 100 years ago. It fills my heart. So this is part one of four of our different versions of carnival, how it used to be. And that was Dominica in 1909. We'll be back right after the break. I am going to play now a bit of traditional Quayol music from Dominica. Enjoy! Alright folks, welcome back. I hope you enjoyed the piece of music there. And now let's jump into part two of our different viewpoints of carnival over a century ago. So now we're going to play the same thing. And I had to Martinique, Saint Pierre Martinique, 1887. The very same Saint Pierre, our homegirl, was talking about in the Dominica segment. But this is now 22 years before she wrote that article. And this is now 15 years before the amount barely disaster in Saint Pierre. Now Saint Pierre, I have, you know, in different writings of people speaking about what Saint Pierre was like before the volcanic eruption. There was beautiful and buzzing and people were stunning. And the way they dressed and the Creole had ties and the airings and the gold chains and how they walked and how they walked. And it's just vibrant and amazing. And it was like, it was the parry of the Caribbean. It was like so seen and described as so beautifully before. So I just found it funny that they really call it a lot less. But I don't know, maybe it was running about things that was going on then whatever. But this is from a book written in 1887 by La Fcade, your home. And it's called two years in the French West Indies. Once again, it's written by a white man. So there's a lot of things that he's writing in there. It's like, I'm not feeling this. But then there's so much insight. And this is, this is my difficulty when I'm navigating through the stories. This has to keep pushing, right? And it does pay off in the end. I will definitely see that. So this one is speaking about Carnival in Martinique. Saint Pierre, 1887. One returning from the country to the city in Carnival season is lucky to find any comfortable rooms for rent. I have been happy to secure one even in a rather retired street. So steep that it is really dangerous to sneeze while descending. It's less one lose one's balance and tumble right across the town. It is not a fashionable street, but after all, there is no particularly fashionable street in this extraordinary city. And the poor at the neighborhood, the better ones chances to see something of its human nature. Interesting insight. One consolation is that I have Ma Robert for the next door neighbor who keeps the best bouts in town, those long thin Martinique cigars of which a stranger soon becomes fond. And who can relate more queer stories and legends of all times in the islands than anyone else I know. Ma Robert, a dealer in such cheap articles of food as a poor liverbone, fruits and tropical vegetables, manioc flower called macadam, a singular dish of rice and saltfish, acroes, etc. and her bouts probably bring her the largest profit. They are all brought up by So, becky is the term for white people. White people live in the Caribbean, if it's descendants of savonas or just white folk, becky. In Sanusia we say becky. So these are different variants of the term. So Maru Be was also a sort of doctor. When anyone in the neighborhood falls sick, she is sent for and very often cures. As she is skilled in the knowledge and use of medicinal herbs, which she gathers herself upon the morns. But these services she never accepts any renumeration. She is a sort of mother of the poor in immediate vicinity. She helps everybody. Listen to everybody's troubles. She gives everybody some sort of consolation. Trusts everybody and sees a great deal of thankless side of human nature without seeming to feel any worst for it. Poor as she must really be, as she appears to have everything that everybody wants. And will lend anything to her neighbors except a scissors or a broom. Which it is thought bad luck to lend. And finally, if anyone is afraid of being bewitched, Maru Be can furnish him or her with something that will keep the bewitched mental way. Now, I feel like I know people like Maru Be. Like in every Caribbean community, there is a woman like this who. She's like a hustler. Like she does like sell everything. She can cook anything. A healer as well. And someone who supports those and doesn't ask for money back. I think that there is a Maru Be in every Caribbean community. Do you know one? So it goes on to say February 15th Ash Wednesday. The last masquerade will appear this afternoon. Notwithstanding for the carnival in Martinique is a day longer than elsewhere. All through the country districts, since the first week of January, there have been wild festivities every Sunday, dancing on the public highways to the patterning of Tom-Tom's, the African dance into which is never seen in Saint-Pierre. That is very interesting, never seen in Saint-Pierre, okay? In the city, however, there has been less merriment than in previous years. The natural gate to the population has been visibly affected by the advent of a terrible and unfamiliar visit to the island, La Verret. She came by the steamer from Coulon. It was in September. Only two cases had been reported when every neighboring British colony quarantined against Martinique. When other Western colonies did likewise, only two cases are smallpox. Okay, so I guess La Verret is smallpox. But there may be 2,000 in another month, answer the governors and the consorts to the many indignant protests. Amongst our senior populations, it means an exterminating plague. Two months later, the little capital of Fort De France was swept by the pestilence as by a wind of death. As the evil began to spread, it entered Saint-Pierre in December, but Christmas last time. Last week, 173 cases were reported, and a serious epidemic was almost certain. There are only 8,500 inhabitants in Fort De France. And there are 28,000 in the three quarters of Saint-Pierre proper, not including her servers. And there is no saying what ravages the disease may take there. Three o'clock hot and clay. In the distance, there is a heavy sound of drums always drawing in. Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom. The Grand Roo is lined with the expectant multitudes. What's a mask? Where are the maskers? It is little Mimi's voice, quite anxious as she used to know where the maskers are. Come and see, come and see. The drums are drawing clay, the children cry. Everyone is running to the Grand Roo. Tom, Tom, Tom, Tom. The spectacle is interesting from the battery. High up the Rupeset, up all the precipitous streets that ascend to the morns, far gathering showy color appears. The massing of the maskers in rose and blue and suffer yellow attire. And then, what did the Gringo Lad begins? And, oh, you're still good on it. For those who know about the wood, Dingoli. And we were saying that the wood Dingoli comes from the French wood Dingoli. Oh my gosh, there we go, right there. Which means to tumble and he goes on to say it right here. I'm just going to throw in a clip of the iconic song Dingoli. Just a jog your memory because there we go. So when we say Dingoli, this is something that we have been using from the 1800s. [Music] What a tumbling, leaping cascading of color as it troops descend. Simultaneously from north and south, from the Moulinche to the fort, two immense bands enter the Grand Roo. The great dancing societies, they are two rivals. They are composers and singers of those carnival songs. Cruele satire is most often of which the local meaning is unintelligible to those unacquainted with the incident inspiring the improvisation. And this is very much what the heart of the clip, so music is. And carnival music because carnival music is social and political commentary. This is why it's so important to me for us to encourage the use of carnival music in carnival because this is what our heritage is. The use of these carnival songs that speak out about social injustices, political injustices, or speaking about carnival in particular in the lyrics. And this is what we see here in this example from 1887 in Martinique. So it goes on to say, of which the words are often too coarse or obscene, whose burdens will be caught up and re-equaled through the burls of the island. Vialas may be the motive, the satire, the malice. These chance are preserved for generations by the singular beauty of the airs. And the victim of a carnival song need never hope that his failing or his wrong will be forgotten. It will be sung long after he's in his grief. And these are one of the things that inspire me so much about carnival. It is a moment for the people to have a voice against those who have done injustice to the society. Carnival is a time where in which the people have a voice, a collective voice to speak out against injustices. And to really point a finger at a specific person and call their name, chance their name, make fun of them, you know, and making people be accountable for their BS. And this is why carnival is so powerful. Anyways, I'm going to go and say, ten minutes more on the entire land of the street is strong with a shouting, shrieking, laughing, gesticulating host of maskers. Ficker and thicker the press becomes, the drums are silent. All are waiting for the signal of the general dance. Jess and practical jokes are being everywhere perpetuated. And there is a vast hub of, meetup of screams, cries, chattering and laughter. Here and there, snatches of carnival songs are being sung. Tee form la du, li du, li du, sweeten and syrup the little woman is. The burden will be remembered when the rest of the song passes out of fashion. Brown hands reach out from the crowd of masks, pulling on the pears and patting the faces of white spectators. Mouekonnetou shé, Mouekonnetou du du. So it says, "I know you, I know you, I know you do do do do do do do do do do do do do do." And it goes on to say, "Give me a half-rank." It is well to refuse a half-rank, though you do not know how these maskers might take a notion to do today. Then all the great drums suddenly boom together and all the bands strike up a mad midly collider scopes into some sort of order. And immense processional dance begins. From the willage to the fort, there is but one continuous torrent of sound and colour. You are days by the tossing of peaked caps and waving of hands and twinkling of feet. And all this passes with a huge swing, a regular swing left to right. It would take at least an hour for all to pass, and it is an hour well worth passing. Band after bandwills by, the musicians all gov as women or as monks in canary coloured habits. Before them the dancers are dancing backward with a motion of the skaters, behind them all leap and wave in hands and pursuit. Most of the bands are playing Creole Ares, but that of the Sonsu-Ci, which is one of the names of the bands, strikes up a melody of the latest French song in Vogue, "Pity Amorou O Plume." Little feathered lovers. Everybody now seems to know this song by heart. You can hear children only 5 or 6 years old singing it. There are pretty lines in it, although two out of its four standards are commonplace enough. And it is certainly the air rather than the words which accounts for certain popularity. Extraordinary things are happening in the streets through this which the bandwills are singing. procession passes, pest-smitten women rise from their beds to costume themselves, to mask a face already made unrecognizable by the hideous malady. I'm assuming he's talking about the smallpox and staga out to join the dancers and it is in the rural scent math that there are three young girls sick with a disease who had the blowing of their horns and the pattering of feet and the clapping of hands and chorus and it gets up and look through the slats of the windows on the masquerade and the creole passion of the dancer comes upon them. "Ah, Christ one, we have our fill of fun, says our face in no more. What matter if we die after?" And I thought it's more than really powerful because you know, there are sick with smallpox which is at the time, it was a very fatal disease and you know having kind of a fill their hearts to the point where they say, "We have our fill of fun. What matter if we die after?" And I think that was one of the most powerful things I've ever read. And I feel that way about carnival. I think any one of us who've really been a part of carnival and celebrated it, there is a moment where you are at your peak and where nothing else matters. And carnival is very much that. And to have these women who knows what happened to them after and that's what they said, that no matter if we die after. And this is why I find it so hurtful when people reduce carnival to just a street party. You know it is way, way, way more than that. It is something that is so spiritual and powerful. And I like, you know, the public to really come to recognize that it's not just a cheap free party and excuse to get wasted. It really ensures a legacy of our ancestors and we should really, really honor that. It goes on to say, "An old mask and joined the roots and danced down the savannah. The costumes are rather disappointing." No, I'm vex, I'm vex. Cause what do you mean? Costs are disappointing. Maybe he doesn't know what they mean, what they signify is not all about beauty, right? It's not all about the pretty pageantry. Through the murmur, he has some general characteristics which are not unpicturesk. For example, the predominance of crimson and canary yellow in choice of color and a marked predilection for the pointed hoods and high-picked headdresses. More religious costumes, also for mistriking element in the general tone of the display. There are no historical costumes. A few eccentricities or monsters, only a few vampire bad headdresses, abruptly break the effect of the piqued caps and the hoods. There are some delicately local ideas in dress, which deserve notice. The Congo, the baby or the Tima Mai. Tima Mai means baby or child, right? And the T. Neggo Siwo, the little molasses negro and the jobless. Right? So, let's take a moment here. So the Congo, I believe, is a style of costume that is still played in Martinique carnival. Baby Guadalupe, my family in Guadalupe and Martinique, let's me know, where they recreate themselves as an image of the African ancestor using different natural materials. And so on. It has a very specific look and I believe that is the Congo. The baby or the Tima Mai. Now, there's something called a baby doll in Trinidad. So this is I'm wondering, is it that? Where it is, you'd find grown women dressed as baby dolls. So what is that? The T. Neggo Siwo, which is the little molasses negro. So we see that in Dominica had it. The molasses men, she called it. And Neggo Siwo is something that is still, the term is still used to take. In Martinique and Guadalupe and it's something that still happens to take. And there was a record from 1848 in Trinidad speaking about the same thing and paraphrasing, but it was saying something like a gang of naked primitives be dogged in black varnish pulling chains. So there we go. Going all the way back to 1848 in Trinidad. So this is something that has been happening in the Caribbean for at least 200 years, in Trinidad. And then the jobless. The jobless, what we call is laja bless. So laja bless for what I know growing up in Sanusia is basically the she devil and she's a spirit who has a long dress and she has a cow hoof. Now she's called something else in other countries. I know my family, when I say family, I'm talking about people I know. And those who support the Instagram page because you know, the whole purpose of New York Caribbean is about the Caribbean family reconnecting and having these conversations online. And I very much feel like we have a family community. So when I say family, I'm speaking about like the New York Caribbean family. There are other names for this character. She has a cow hoof. She hides a cow hoof with a long dress and she seduces men into the forest or in secluded areas and seduces him and she still says spirit. But we can see here the laja bless was something that was around in Martinique in 1887. He goes on to add some more description. The Congo is merely the exact reproduction of dress worn by workers on the plantations. For the women, a grey calico shirt and coarse peticoat of parsley with two coarse handkerchiefs. One for the neck and one for the head. Over which is one of monstrous straw hats, she walks either barefoot or short of rude native sandals. And she carries a hoe. For the man, the co-syncensis of a grey shirt, blue canvas pantaloons, a large mouchwa fatter to tie around his waist and a shapo bakui, an enormous hat of Martinique palm straw. He walks around barefooted and carries a cutlass. The sight of the troop of the young girls are baby. In baby dress, there we go, it's really pretty. This costume comprises only of a loose embroidered chemise, lace edged pantalettes and a child's cap. The whole being brightly decorated with bright ribbons of various colours. The dress is short and leaves much of the lower limbs exposed. And there is ample opportunity for display of tinted stockings and elegant slippers. Kind of sounds like the baby doll we see in Trinidad. The molasses negro, with nothing but a cloth around his lines. His whole body and face being smeared with an atrocious mixture of suits and molasses. He's supposed to represent the original African ancestor. So all the things, jab, jab, nighosee, wool, jab molassi, all of that is, you know, as I say, legacy, the deviless or the la jabless. A few in number for requires a very tall woman to play the deviless. She's rubbed in all black with a white turban and a white fuyard. They wear all black masks. They also carry bombs, the B.O.M.S. bombs, which are large tin cans, which they allow to fall upon their pavement and from time to time they walk barefoot. The deviless represents a singular martinic superstition. It is said that sometimes at noon day, a beautiful negro's pass is silently through some isolated plantation, smelling at the workers in the cane fields, tempting men to follow her. And he who follows her never comes back again. And when the field had mysteriously disappeared, his fellows say, he went to the la jabless. The tallest among the deviless is always walks first, chanting the question, "Is it yet daybreak?" And for the others to reply in chorus, "It is not yet day." The masks worn by a multitude include very few grotesques. As a rule, they are simply white wire masks. I know they have them in so many visions of traditional masks. I think in San Quetzanivis as well, I've seen them in the Kombay in Pumudas as well. Anyways, let's continue. The white wire mask, having a form of an oval and regular human face and disguise aware of absolutely, it struck me that this peculiar type of wire mask gave me an indescribable tone of ghostiness to the whole exhibition. It is not in the least comical, it is neither comely or ugly, it is colorless as mist, expressionless and void, it lies on the face like a vapor, like a cloud, creating the idea of a spectral vacuity behind it. Oh, damn, yeah, but I mean, that's what. I think that was the intention of the masks, actually. Not meant to be necessarily funny or beautiful, but as he says, expressionless and void with this kind of sombalness to it in a way, but not literal sombalness is almost like, to me it's just like a reflection on the feeling of colonialism, which is avoid. You know, as expressionless and void, there's so much trauma and pain, intermixed into one thing. That's all I feel about it. Please give me some feedback. I'll be here from you guys, what you all think. So he says, "He comes a band, the second band that is fighting the sun to sea, right?" And they call it "interprets." "Playing the Buenny." B-O-U-E-N-E, the Buenny. It is a dance melody. It is also a mode of dancing, peculiar and unrestrained. The dancers advance and retreat face to face and they hug each other, press together and separate and brace again. A very old dance, this of African origin perhaps, perhaps the same of which Pella Bat wrote in 1722. Yolavut Pella Bat, so many times, it is your first time listening. Pella Bat was a priest in Martinique and Guadeloupe. He was a slave when impressed, apparently racist, but he wrote a lot and documented a lot. So he is a great resource, but a very racist one. So here's what Pella Bat says about this dance. It is not modest. Nevertheless, it has not failed to become so popular with the Spanish creoles of America. So much invoke among them. I didn't even know invoke was something that people wrote in 1722, but I'm learning. That it now forms the chief of their amusements and that it enters even into their devotions. They dance it even in their churches, in their processions and the non-Seldom fail to dance it at Christmas night. Very intermixing of African and Christian beliefs and one into a dance, there we go. So the writing goes on to say, every year in the last year of carnival, a drawer ceremony used to take place called a burial of the boi boi. The boi boi being a dummy, a guy, caricaturing the most unpopular thing in city life or in politics. So you see the same thing that we saw in Dominico, the burning of this, having this effigy in Boone. This boi boi haven't been paraded with moxilemity. The way the S&P is either entered or drowned, flung into the sea. And yesterday the dancing society had announced the intention to bury boi boi laverite, a mannequin that was to represent the plague, but the boi boi does not make his appearance. Laverite is too terrible a visitor to be made fun of my friends. You will not laugh at her because you did not. And a multicolored clamoring stream rushes by. All of a sudden there is a hush, a halt. The drums stop beating, the song cease. Then I see a sudden scattering of covelins, demons and devolences in all directions. They run into houses up alleys behind doorways and the crowd parts. Straight through it, walking very quickly comes a priest in his vestments, preceded by an acolyte, who rings a little bell. Say bordier capasse, it is the good God who goes by. The father is bearing a vial catom to some victim of the pestilence. One must not appear masked as a devil or devilish in the presence of the bordier. Good God. He goes by the flood of masques recloses behind the ominous passage. The drums boom again, the dance recommends this. An all of fantastic, mammary ebbs swiftly out of sight. So folks, that is our excerpt from Carnival in Martinique in 1887. As we can see, a lot of synergies between Carnival and Martinique and in Dominica. And I just love finding these old traditions that we have kept alive today. Folks, let's work, work, work to keep these traditions alive. Let's not let them die. Yeah, so we're going to move on. Gonna have a break. Let me see if I can get some Martinique music to play for you all some. And when we come back, we are jumping into Puerto Rico, folks. What's Carnival like in Puerto Rico. [BLANK_AUDIO] [BLANK_AUDIO] Right folks, let me dive into this thing one time, one cut, no long thing, right? February 26, 1903. And we are in Puerto Rico, folks. And this article is also in the Franklis this weekly. And it's written by Adam C. Haslebath. And it's called Curious Carnival Customs in Puerto Rico. Now, I don't think I know enough about Carnival in Puerto Rico. And now they have their own versions of Edavila and also the Dominican Republic. Also has a version of Edavila. It was very different to the Jabo de Deville, like you see, say like in Trinidad or Grenada. And then kind of sides it's like the costumes are very, very elaborate. Now they have Trinidad has a different version of Jab. So Jab, which means Deville, which are the whip masters. And they have very elaborate costumes. But it's still very different to the ones that you see in places that Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. So we're gonna jump right in. So this is 1903. So this is like almost 120 years ago. Never seen before, as San Juan made such elaborate preparations for the celebration of the annual Carnival and Madi Grande this year. Americans are united with Puerto Ricans. Costume makers are busy. All committees are getting together and a local paper is conducting a voting contest to choose two queens. One American and the other Puerto Rican. This will be crowned on the night of Shrove Tuesday, February 24th. Adds the border San Juan fraternity. It is a contest of the American girls which is led by Miss Hunt, the governor's daughter. The Carnival begins with special services in all the Catholic churches on Sunday. The merriment will then reign supreme for 10 days and nights during which the time business will be practically at a standstill. Everyone is good natured and would suffer if you were not. There are brilliant fireworks, galore these carnivals and bombs that sound as loud as did Samson's shells when he broke over the city. Masking is freely permitted and costumes of all sorts and descriptions cheap and costly are seen in the streets. To the Puerto Rican children and to many of the grownups it is like a fortest of heaven. The boys go out in droves shouting their vivas as vigorously for hideous devil as they would for a fairy and ox a pig or a giant. And no boys on earth can make more noise than those of the Latinries. Okay. Apart from the masking and general joys, carossing of the features, there are decorations, the court parades, the balls or by-lists in the theater. The universal use of confetti or papilletta or papillos. The former is merely tiny discolored paper which everyone throws at everyone's neighbor. The latter is colored paper tape which is hauled across streets from balcony to balcony soon creating a rainbow tinted net that is more complicated than the tangle where we will even if first practice to deceive. As it requires a good eye, a strong arm and an airing aim to land these rules in the right place, they often fall short and trail down the streets giving a very pretty effect. The sidewalks, plazas and streets soon become covered with confetti so that one walks on a carpet of color. The urchins profit by the waist and scoop it up. Dirt and all to throw it at unwary pedestrians. The effect on this on white glows is particularly distressing. Confetti stands erected all over the city, the bits of paper being sold by the pound, on little bags for the children at a penny a bag. All classes of dealers become temporary carnival midgents for the sale of masks, dominoes, ready made costumes, fireworks, horns, flower, perfumery, squirt guns and other carnival goods. It is considered a proper carnival diversion to squirt with few more than ladies. They've being privileged to retaliate or to throw flour. That's quite cool, you know. I mean, couldn't imagine it sounds so colorful, like confetti everywhere. And like, whatever paper streamers everywhere, and it's like the smell of perfume, and then you see all these like, boosts of flour, you know, it's really, really quite different. So it goes on to sing. A favorite amusement is a drop on the head a passer by a bag of flour from a balcony. I don't know if that could cause wolves on people, you know, if I'm walking on a street with my bag in carnival outfits. But it depends. If you go, I guess you will go prepared to get the silver by flour. The Ruffer Sports follow this bag of flour with one field of water. Geez. Covering the luckless victim for fair grid of paste. Nah, I don't know about that one, eh? And I mean, I get dirty for, like dirty mass hunting, like, paying powder oil, chocolate, all things. But I don't know about that sticky doughboy, I don't know. Yet with all the capers, Liberty seldom denigrates into license and a limits of proper consideration for the rights and feelings of others are quite carefully observed. Okay, fair enough. The celebration throughout is typically Spanish, and every red and yellow banner on the island is flung into the breeze. Even a mingling of stars and stripes is not removed impression that spectators in a Spanish city. The celebration is general throughout Puerto Rico. It's magnitude depending on the size of the town. Two of the most striking features of carnival are the coach parade and the balls. The parade goes over line of March three miles long to San Tusey, and it appears every vehicle that can be bought into requisition. These are filled with merry-makers, mostly masked, and are decorated with real and artificial flowers, palms, tinsulin flags. In San Juan, the balls are held in a big theater owned by the city. They are the red, white, and blue balls. The children's ball and a fancy dress ball. At the first three, there is a strict observance of color schemes. For instance, at the red ball, the dancers must wear only red, and only red confetti will be thrown. That sounds really stunning. Really, really, really stunning. Imagine like everyone is in red and the red confetti falling in this beautiful ballroom. It sounds absolutely stunning. And imagine in all blue and in all white. The decorations of the theater are also red. At the blue ball, everything is blue, and at the white, white prevails. The children's ball brings together some of the most beautiful children on earth. Many of them in lavish and costly costumes, historical accuracy being often observed. The children's ballet is worth going along this censorcy. At the great fancy dress ball, which closes the carnival, the fun is fast and furious. And at this ball, more Americans participate in any other. No one is admitted to the floor unless masked and surprises are many when the dominoes are removed at night. This year, the presence of 200 businessmen and New Orleans on a trade excursion to San Juan will add to the gaity and their experiences in the home city will be valuable to the committee having carnival affairs in charge. So this write-up is much shorter than the others about kind of an important recall. But it could be from the perspective of this person, the experience of this person, but I'm not getting a feel of African influences. It sounds more of like a European Spanish themed carnival where it's more elaborate costumes. And then masking and having things inside interior spaces. So balls and theater rooms which sound stunning, but very different to carnival parade, per se. But it could have been this man's experience because I don't think all carnival celebrations in Puerto Rico are like this, but I think it was his specific one. But it's intriguing the use of flour and then also the use of like spray and women to perfume and things like that. I think it is really quite a sensory overload. If you're going there with that expectation to have all of this, these males and textures and colors. And it's one thing about having like a mixture of like a million colors, but it's also a power on having a singular color as well where everything is just that one color. I think that's really powerful. So folks, that was carnival in Puerto Rico in 1903. So up next, after a very short musical break, we are going to have carnival in Havana, Cuba. What was that like? And for this musical interval, we're going to have some traditional Plena music from Puerto Rico. Plena music exists from Afro-Potterican resistance, the insistence of using the drum, even when it was illegal to the point that they created a different type of drum to keep the rhythm alive. So here we go, some traditional Plena music from Puerto Rico. [ Silence ] Welcome back folks to this carnival session, four different perspectives of carnival from four different countries. And now we're at country number four, we are going to Cuba. And now we in Cuba, 1899 Cuba. And this is again from the Frank Wesley's weekly newspaper, which seems to be an American publication. And the title of this one is, "While the poor are starving, the rich waste wealth in carnivals fully. People given up to the theaters and ballrooms, curious customs, generous hospitality to the Americans." So it says, "Havana March 10th, 1899. While the poor are dying of starvation, carnival goes on. And every Sunday, the maskers throw enough flour, at each other to feed the poor for days." So as you can see here, another synergy between Puerto Rico and Cuba carnival with a throwing of flour. The carnival lasts a couple of weeks, but only on a Sunday it is in full swing. And the maskers on foot and in carriage is crowd-appreenceable prominent. Were it controlled to a degree of decency? It would be a pretty affair, but not content with throwing flowers and confetti. The people make little balls of flour, limestone, ground into powder, and belt everyone who crosses their path. Those who throw the stuff can't prepare, covered with a domino or cloak to keep themselves clean, to be struck with one of these missiles means ruination to any close. Those who throw flour right about in open carriages at a fast gate and pale to mever they can, particularly well-dressed persons who are not masked or participating in the festivities. Horsed men ride at a brick-necked speed and carriages at a run, totally unmindful of the danger and could. One party of about 10 had one of the city fire patrols out to use as a conveyance. They were all masked and covered with dominoes they were throwing at everyone who came in range. From the balconies and from the streets they were pelted in return and laid into the afternoon. Those in the balconies brought buckets of water to throw on the maskers and others already covered in flour. This is an interesting dynamic I'm trying to break it down because it seems like those who are throwing flour at the well-trust, I would have said is some form of resistance. In terms of just the spirit of carnival within the Caribbean is very anti-colonial, it's anti-class, it is speaking up against, you know, the wealthy and, you know, the lawmakers. But this positive thing was a poor starving people are just throwing flour. So I'm trying to decide who are the flour through us. You know what kind of demographic do they come from? But let's carry on an extra and see if you can figure it out. The result can be imagined and the pleasure of utterly ruining someone's clothes seems to please many to escape the return of fireballs, a flour and a water. The carriages drive at a terrific pace causing many accidents. The fire patrol risk up and down the driveway striking, several carriages and running over a small boy who was carried off apparently lifeless. This sounds like absolute chaos. I am trying to wrap my head. I don't know if the person is coming from a very negative space, a very conservative background, but it sounds extremely chaotic and not like a joyful exchange, like how, for example, it seemed the one important vehicle felt more playful, although it annoyed some, it's still hot over here. very playful feel. This one seems to be a very unbalanced kind of kind of all, but it could be from this person's perspective, right? But if I get this someone if a little boy lost his life and things carried on, because they go on to say but they did not even slack in their speed. And finally when the driver was arrested for reckless driving and while the accident could be investigated, it turned out that the maskers on patrol who caused the trouble included the chief of police, Cuban general Menlocal, Cuban general Sanguly and others of the local prominence. Who should be the ones who prevent rather than create disturbances? When they were cited to appear as witnesses, they were immensely indignant that they should be called to account and declared that they were Cuban officers and they should be allowed to do as they wished. This is interesting because in terms of the police caused this riot, the police being the instigators of problems in the carnival. Normally the police are the ones causing problems by fighting the masqueraders. And now the police are the masqueraders causing trouble, including the chief of police. I have never seen something like this before. It was speaking about this specific person. Is that the spirit of carnival or is that the spirit of these specific people? I cannot see. So let's go on. Except for the Sunday street masking and throwing flower, etc. The carnival consists principally of balls. Every night there are club balls, private balls and public balls. And during the carnival they are all masquerades and many of them very pretty gatherings. At the various theaters balls are held, all play houses having floors that can be raised to a level with a stage. When the seats are cleared away, there is a splendid space given to the dancers. Cuban dances are peculiar one when viewed through the American eyes. For it is so totally different from any of our dances. There is only one step and that one is a sort of a mixture of Indian, Turkish and Chinese. Two orchestras play continuously, one taking up the music as the other ceases. The music almost identical with some that I have heard at the dances of our Indian tribes in Arizona, New Mexico. Except that there is a continual play of the cornet. They use tom tom's ketogroms and some weird godlike affair that they beat most vigorously, emitting a sound quite musical as a boy would make with a barrel stave as he ran along a picket fence. So within that I am picking up to me some kind of African kind of vibe, even though there is no mention of that, in terms of like the ferocity of the drum that she is talking about. The Havana is the same lively place the night and way not for the order that has been issued compelling her face to close their bars by one o'clock. I do not think the crowd will go home at all. The Havana theatre audience are as a whole as pretty and bright as any I ever saw. The women are strikingly beautiful or painfully homely. The balconies and the lower circularity it is are built into boxes and on galvanite. When they are filled the houses are blazing some brilliant costumes and pretty effects of dress, both in men and women. Such it is only possible to obtain in the tropical capital. It is very interesting about the throwing of the flower which you found in Puerto Rico and in Cuba, which are the Spanish speaking Caribbean islands. And you know there is some very quick research I can see that they have flower throwing festivals in Spain. So this could be something that was brought down to the Caribbean through European Spanish influence. And it was incorporated into carnival because the flower throwing does not happen for the kind of a period in Spain. I think it was just incorporated into the merriment. But yeah very four different perspectives, different synergies. I think I love finding our traditions that state our life. And you know looking at in particular the documentation in Martinique in terms of the use of the songs. Now obviously this is not Calypso music per se. And one of the things is that when we look at the representations of carnival it is within the Caribbean. It is very much a focus on Trinidad which Trinidad's history of carnival is extremely powerful and is deserving of its episode in its entirety by itself. But also looking at carnival within the French speaking, Dutch speaking and Spanish speaking Caribbean. And how in which it's developed and has so many similarities of political and social resistance. And then also the preservation of our African heritage. So if we're talking about Pella bad who's talking about this dance I was done in 1922 and then you're still doing it 167 years later. And I was still doing it today. This is now 300 years later. If Pella bad wrote something in 1722 we are now in 2022 300 years of doing this dance and cultural preservation through carnival. Carnival is so powerful and this is why we must preserve our carnival traditions because when we walk these steps in carnival we are walking the walks of our ancestors. We are dancing the dances of our ancestors. We are singing the songs of our ancestors. We are upholding and honoring the things that they did and they did so in a very different space to what we have. We now have a privileged space and so much more freedom than they did and they did that shit anyway. Knowing that it could be repercussions they did that shit anyway. And now we are in privileged spaces and we're happy to just erase it and say this all-time thing and not bother with it. That's a complete disrespect to the legacy of resistance that our ancestors did. And use carnival as a pathway of resistance and cultural retention of our African heritage, our Indian heritage, our Amerindian indigenous heritage. We have to uphold these traditions. Remember always I am because they were we are because they were. "The duvique" all is applauded and very well said. Je le parle aux attiminués des enfants sont là Ce n'est pas le moment où ça s'est paré De respect à toujours et n'aient dans le poyer Nous m'enjouerons à paix grâce à vous, à ce moment De rester c'est la santé, la de notre existence C'est un peu plus mal, mais c'est un peu plus mal Je ne viens n'à ta approche et n'à la poyer Nous enroîtes de mes demands sur tout jour parfait Les hois pas sur tout jour, je n'ai pas éprepé pour pied Tu es une femme pour qu'elle t'y est, je suis ouette Ne détestez à voulu pas, nous soyons ensemble Nous décavons tous les niches, que la mort Qu'on a besoin, on ne peut pas nous en parler Je ne sais pas de détruire pas de tout le monde Nous m'ennons une vie, tu as un serre et un plan J'en ai toujours l'aspect au coeur, d'un peu mes poins Quand la mousse elle a complé ma décentima La voisin c'est la distance à faire mon existence Il m'y a pas de quoi que j'aime et que j'appelle À la semaine, quand je m'en ai dit moi-même ou d'où Mais oui, quand je m'en ai dit moi-même, je t'enviens La mousse elle a montré ma décentima, j'ai mis La mousse elle a réconfortement à se faire manquer À la semaine, quand je m'en ai dit moi-même À la semaine, quand je m'en ai dit moi-même