In Search of Carriacou's Traditional Carnival

“This is a celebration which involves almost the whole population as only the lame, the blind, and the Seventh Day Adventists may remain at home on Carnival days.”

                                                                     -Donald Hill, 1977                         

 

A few weeks back, a bunch of us PCVs went out to Carriacou, Grenada’s sister-isle, for Carnival. Carriacou is a quiet place, reminding me of what Grenada was probably like 50 years ago. They hold Carnival at the traditional time, just before Lent, and have some interesting customs that are sadly fading away.

While I would have liked to see what else I could find in the countryside, I was determined to see at least two traditional events. The big one that was still on all the Carnival event schedules was Shakespeare Mas (more on that in a minute). The other thing I wanted to witness, however, was Canboulay, the traditional start of Carnival at midnight on Sunday.

As soon as we landed, I started asking about Canboulay. I asked bus drivers and people on the streets of Hillsborough; I asked our neighbors in Lauriston and older people on the bus, but nobody knew a thing about it! Actually, the older folks did know what I was asking about: “Oh yes, that a kinda ole-time ting you talkin, hah ha.” But nobody knew where it might be held. Unfortunately, this timeworn event has changed little since its post-Emancipation origins, whereas Monday Night Mas and Jourve (pron. “joo-vay”) have all changed with the times (under Trinidad’s influence). Those more popular events drive modern Carnival, but I clung to the hope that there was still a rarified opportunity to see what Carnival was like 100 years ago.

Around 10pm on Sunday night, our group headed down into Hillsborough to see what was going on. We knew Calypso Monarch (Dimanche Gras or “Fat Sunday”) and a “wet-fete” were at least happening, but I was determined to catch a bus up-country and go exploring. While my friends all said to forget about Canboulay, I decided I’d rather waste my night seeing for myself that the old Carnival traditions were completely dead than stand around in a loud bar getting sprayed with water. Stephanie and two others came along for the ride. (Unfortunately, we didn't bring a camera!)


I looked for an older bus driver headed to Mt. Royal and asked what was going on up there. For the first time, there was a glimmer of hope: “Yes, I tink there some Big Drum an ting underway.” We jumped aboard. On the way up (maybe around Top Hill?), we passed a bar with a bunch of drunk Short-Knee players (an Old Mas band descended from Pierrot masqueraders) and I made a mental note to go there if Mt. Royal was a bust.

Now, according to Allsopp’s Dictionary of Caribbean English, Canboulay actually means cannes broulees, the spectacular burning of cane fields in colonial times, both unintentionally and intentionally. Local historian Christine David (2004) seems to suggest a number of possible origins, but an intriguing one is that planters from all over would bring their slaves to help with a burning field. Bringing slaves and indentured servants together may have given rise to a big cook, with dancing and drums late into the night (a harvest festival). After Emancipation (August 1st, 1834/8), bottle torches were added and the event was continued at different times of the year such as at Tombstone Feasts, Big Drum ceremonies, and Emancipation Day celebrations, eventually becoming the crux of pre-Jourve festivities. In Trinidad, where it may have originated, Canboulay was the Emancipation Day celebration but became part of Carnival when non-whites were banned from participating in the colonial elite’s Carnival. So in the countryside, they threw their own Carnival, calling it Canboulay. Here is where existing elements (indigenous as well as African) began to merge with European Carnival traditions and morph into the modern Caribbean version. Even more interestingly, according to Wikipedia, this was the beginning of a number of laws that banned elements of Carnival (stick-fighting, drums, tambou bamboo bands, etc.), that forced revelers to continuously seek out non-banned materials like spoons and metal buckets. Within the course of about fifty years (1880-1930), this determined innovation evolved into the beautiful Caribbean instrument we call steelpan.

The bus whipped around in the darkness and dropped us by a junction lined with old, crumbling rum shops and a small circle of people. The crowd was decidedly older, retired folks: well-dressed and in nostalgic high spirits. At first they were holding a practice Shakespeare Mas session (without costumes), so we stood politely in the back, straining to hear what was going on. A nice lady came up and asked if we were hungry. As she ladled complementary cups of fresh pea soup, the endorphins were blasting away in my brain: It’s still going on!

I ducked off into one of the rum shops and bought a “quarter” of rum (about 3 shots) and some popcorn. As I walked out, a few guys were setting up drums. In the circle, two older men danced with sticks held outright, reenacting the kalinda, or stick fighting, of their youth in a friendly, artistic style. Aside from the bottle torches (which perhaps were absorbed by Monday Night Mas?), stick-fighting was a big part of Carriacou’s Canboulay. I asked another onlooker about it, and he said these fellas were too old now, “but back in the day, they would give heavy lash! All kinds of blood and stupidness. No time for dat anymore,” he concluded, an allusion to how violent many of the Carnival events once were.

Another man stepped into the ring and began swinging his orthopedic cane around…. As I was learning, these traditions are upheld by a small group of rapidly aging devotees. Accounts I’ve read talk of a Canboulay in every village. Just forty years later, however, this was all that seemed to be left. Here were the effects of acculturation, experienced first-hand. Tradition Mas is not dead, but it’s certainly in the parking lot, looking for a spot.

Then the dancing started: dressed in colorful, West Indian gowns a small group of women fluttered in beautiful, syncopated displays. Men pounded varying rhythms on hide-skin drums while people in the crowd clapped and chanted. This wasn’t a full-blown Big Drum celebration (listen here), but it seemed that they were performing from a similar repertoire. Interestingly, many of these dances have been traced to West-African tribes, most recently the Temne of Sierre Leone.

It was quite exciting to be part of an old-time Canboulay, but because this post is so long already, I'm going to stop there and briefly mention Shakespeare Mas. Basically, on the morning of Carnival Tuesday (the last day), participating Carriacouans dress in colorful, masquerade-style costumes and quote lengthy passages from Shakespeare. It seems that, whereas in the past they would quote a wide variety of speeches (initially taken from British Royal Reader textbooks), they now only orate the surrounding passages of the “Friends, Romans, Countrymen” monologue from Julius Caesar. You can watch parts of it here (or, more hilariously, here). (Note that the Short-Knee still perform original speeches, often politically-related.) The Shakespeare players battle one-on-one, and when one messes up, they beat each other with wiry switches (“bulls”), protected by paper-mache capes. Here are some of my pictures from Brunswick and Hillsborough, where the final inter-village showdown took place. With young players mixed in the group, it seems likely that Shakespeare Mas will carry-on a while longer. I wish I could say the same about Canboulay.

-JH


References:

Allsopp, Jeannette

2003    Dictionary of Caribbean English Usage, University of West Indies Press: Kingston, Jamaica.

Ashie-Nikoi, Edwina

2007    Beating the Pen on the Drum: A Socio-Cultural History of Carriacou, Grenada, 1750-1920, PhD Dissertation: NYU

Chase, Thomas, and Zarah Chase

2011    Abridged Handbook of Grenadian Creole English and French Names, ACLAIMS: St. George’s, Grenada.

David, Christine

2004    Folk Traditions of Carriacou & Petite Martinique, Christine David: Belmont, Carriacou.

Hill, Donald R.

1977    “The Impact of Migration on the Metropolitan and Folk Society of Carriacou, Grenada,” Anthropological Papers of the American Museum of Natural History, v.54(2):New York, NY

Grenada's Peace Corps Documentary

Alright, finally got the link up this week!

As I noted in the YouTube description, this is a documentary made by Peace Corps Volunteers in Grenada, West Indies to celebrate the PC's 50th Anniversary (1961-2011). Grenada has been a host country from 1967-1979, then 1986-present. An estimated 500 Volunteers have served in country since 1967. Video was edited by PCVs Katie Moran and Jon Hanna, EC-81 (2010-2012). It aired on local television stations MTV, CC6, and GBN from 11.28.11 thru 12.7.11. [Run time is 27 minutes]
-JH

The PC is Hard Work

Well, we’ve been busier than ever lately, so the blog has taken a back seat. It's been very hard to juggle the stuff I need to do for myself while maintaining various projects. I find myself working harder than I've ever worked in my life! For instance, weeknights are spent planning and getting stuff organized for teaching the next day while Saturday and Sundays are full workdays, researching, and writing things like grant proposals and reports. No time for enjoying this beautiful island I'm on! I’ve also been editing a video for the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps. It’s set to air on local television this week, but I’ve had a hell of a time getting it up on YouTube. I’ll post it here once I figure that out.

In terms of time, I can't help but think of the image often presented on blogs and YouTube by PCVs in other parts of the world, that there is tons of down time to figure your life out. This seems very appealing- taking time to help other people and figure out what's important in your life. Well, how can I do that while working 70 hours a week? Often these other Volunteers talk of having tons of free time to read books. I can't tell you how many times I've seen that: "Here's a picture of all the books I read in the Peace Corps." Is that some sick joke? Where did they get the time to read all that?? Well, I have a nice stack of books, too: ones that I plan to read when I'm NOT in the Peace Corps.

Anyway, here’s a promo for the 50th video mentioned above. It’s actually a plug for the local news. The full video is forthcoming.

-JH

St. George's Archaeology Camp

I left the States in February 2010, thinking I was done with archaeology. It was my focus in college and a source of income for two years after, but a well-paid job with benefits and a future seemed like a faraway dream. Joining the Peace Corps, I thought, bottled that dream for a much later time. Thus, at my worksites in Grenada, I initially downplayed this background, highlighting instead my volunteering efforts and IT skills. Turns out, I almost missed a huge opportunity.

The idea of an archaeology summer camp had been swimming around my head for some time, but I didn't think it was really possible, logistically. Thus, I surprised myself when I ran into a friend from the Ministry's Heritage Office, Michael Jessamy, and blurted out the idea. He was immediately interested, and it was his enthusiasm- and approval- that encouraged me to start planning a small program.

Three months later, the St. George's Archaeology Camp was a huge success. For four weeks, twelve kids from around St. Georges came every morning to Queenspark to learn about archaeology, scientific method, and the history of Grenada. With the support of some friends back home, we bought a ton of equipment (trowels, tarpolines, screens, etc.), and ran a smooth operation that even attracted some media attention.

We had a scavenger hunt at the National Museum, toured archaeological sites around Grenada, and excavated three areas of Queenspark, including a real Arawak site along the St. Johns River. Surprisingly, all these excavations turned up prehistoric artifacts- even the initial "fake" ones I prepared! (So it seems that the entire area was heavily populated by Arawaks from about 0-600AD, based on preliminary analysis.)

Unfortunately, we had some major flooding during the fourth week- just before Carnival. Muddy water covered the whole area, including the school and our beautiful excavations. With little time left, we had to focus on cleaning up rather than completing the site. Thus, we're planning to finish the last excavations at the St. Johns River site sometime in October.

-JH

"Yuh Gettin' Fat Gyal!"

I’ve been hearing this a lot lately. In the States, commenting on an acquaintance’s weight gain would be considered bad form. Here, not so much. This morning a co-worker  greeted me, first thing in the morning, by saying, ¨Look how big yuh thighs gettin’ gyal!¨ How would you react to this? I managed to smile and nod this morning, but it took some effort. In fairness, I have gained weight- or more accurately, gained it back. I lost 10-15 pounds when I was sick a few months ago but they recently found their way back to me.

In Grenada, when someone tells you that you’re getting fat, they generally mean it as a friendly, complimentary observation implying that you’re happy and you’ve been eating well. I know this, but it’s still takes effort for me to react appropriately.

It’s been hard in general to adjust to a culture where basically anything about your appearance is fair game for discussion. In the States, of course you would notice your co-workers grey hairs/buck-tooth/weird birth mark, but you would never mention it to them. Americans are generally happy to pretend they don’t notice the flaws in your appearance in exchange for you extending the same kindness to them. Here, on the other hand, you had better just stay home if you don’t want to talk about these things. At first, this openness just translated as rudeness to me. I’m coming to terms with it as time goes on though. It can be kind of refreshing to just openly discuss a big ugly zit. You can sort of shed self-consciousness about it and move on once your boss points it out and offers to pop it for you.

It Makin' Hot!

Grenada is pretty close to the equator, so, the temperature is pretty consistent through the year. But lately, it’s been HOT- drenched in sweat from the effort it takes to chew hot. A local friend of mine summed up the feeling pretty succinctly yesterday when she said, “Ah not sweatin’, ah runnin’ a pipe.”

When we first arrived here I was always hot. It was a pretty major adjustment to leave New Jersey in the midst of a February snow storm and arrive in tropical Grenada. After a little over a year, I’m pretty proud of myself for even being able to feel the difference between a regular hot day and a seriously hot day. I still haven’t learned to convert Celsius to Fahrenheit so the numerical temperature really means nothing to me. Locals are always noting nuances in the weather in small talk, but to me, hot was hot was hot until my body finally acclimatised. I know there have been plenty of miserably hot and humid days in our native NJ lately, but I feel like the sun has a completely different character here. Our Peace Corps medical officer likes to say, “The Caribbean sun don’t play,” and she is not kidding.

Hands Across the Sea

Hands Across the Sea is a 501(c)(3) non-profit charitable organization dedicated to raising the literacy levels of Caribbean children by assisting schools and libraries in Caribbean communities.

I heard about Hands through fellow volunteers who had worked with the organization to build their school libraries and start after-school reading programs. Now,this amazing organization is supporting a new special education teacher-training program I am starting by donating supplies. You can help support my program and this great organization by making a donation in my name here, via their PayPal account. You can also send a check with my name in the memo to:

Hands Across the Sea, Inc.

411 Walnut Street

PMB 4218

Green Cove Springs, FL 32043

You’ll receive an acknowledgment for tax purposes and your donation is tax deductible (their IRS tax ID number is 20-5897380 and they are a Massachusetts Public charity listed on the MA Attorney General's website.)

I am really grateful for Hands support as my community partners and I start this new program. Grenada is instituting mandatory secondary schooling for all students beginning in the fall. Up until now, students who didn't pass secondary school (high school) entrance exams were forced to leave school at 16-years-old. Many of these students have undiagnosed mild to moderate learning disabilities and have not received adequate support in school. 

Now, these students will have the opportunity to continue their education. Unfortunately, the majority of secondary school teachers have no training in working with students with special needs. With the influx of lower performing students and students with learning disabilities into their classrooms, these teachers need training in inclusion and special ed.strategies and methods in order to meet the needs of these students and keep their classrooms running smoothly. That's where my program comes in :) The overarching goal of the program is to increase secondary school teachers’ confidence and competence in working with students with special needs through training in a variety of inclusion strategies and building basic understanding of learning disabilities in general.

I'll post more details and pictures of the program once we get started, but for now please, please support our efforts with a donation. Every little bit counts.

Thank you!