15223: Burnham and carnival, day three: (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

From: thor burnham <thorald_mb@hotmail.com>



I wrote this several weeks ago but forgot to post it in lieu of other
events. Perhaps some will find it interesting. They are, after all, my
observations only, and those of people I was with or have talked to since.

Carnival Day Three:

Day three seemed to have more people, but I have no way of confirming that.
We headed down at about 7:00 p.m. and got front row standing space on the
Blozay stand for the second time. That was actually due to the kindness, or
perhaps pity, of the person in charge who gave us free passes after hearing
our sob story about one of our group who got his wallet stolen while he and
I “kaled” our “dadas” with a bann a pye on the first night.

The competing sound systems were up and running, making conversation
difficult and resulting mostly in the non-stop activity of people watching.
And there was an awful lot of it due to the absence of  rara bands and the
other processions that seemed to be ubiquitous the first night.

There was one interesting event before the major floats came out. From out
of nowhere came a car with a couple of people on it surrounded by about 500
fanatiks. Every time the guy raised his hands, the group raised their hands.
Then they would move about 100 metres up the street and do the same thing.
When they got near us, the fellow ripped off his shirt and began raising his
hands like a gladiator playing to the crowd. (yeah, okay, I’m getting
carried away, but he looked like he was in pretty good shape). The people
with me identified him as King Posse, demonstrating his anger at not being
given a char this year. He and his horde continued to march up the street,
eventually had to turn around and were then instructed to park their car by
the police.

Unlike day two, day three took a long, long time to get started. However,
our “favourite” ti-telefon float came out first again. This time he was
dissing Sweet Micky for giving carnaval the big thumbs down.   The fellow at
the microphone decided that T-Vice was now the President of  Kompas for the
next five years having taken the mantle from Sweet Micky. I’m not sure
anybody was buying what the guy was trying to sell, but I have to compliment
him for his perserverance; his “Kinalaganashness”, if you will.

>From the time of our arrival, to when the first floats showed, seemed like a
long time. In fact, at times it was boring.  However, the chars finally
started out I guess some time after 11:00 and it got “hot” after that.

The first few floats didn’t do much, truth be told. A couple of racine
groups came through but got a lukewarm response; my impression, as well as
from what people told me, was that people associated them with the regime
and they were rejected as such. In other words, each night had a lot of cold
shoulders.

The place really lighted up when Azor came through singing about Criminels.(
I have no idea who he was talking about. A real mystery. ) He had a large
group out front and behind. Lots of fanatics and lots of people dancing. A
fellow in his early twenties te pran lwa while Azor was passing. Took his
five friends to get him under control and keep him from flailing in the
crowd.

A few other floats passed and then it was time for T-Vice.  Same thing as
the other nights except that this time there were a significantly larger
group out in front of the float and bringing up the rear.  I was expecting
the explosion of fights that I saw on day two when Djakout Mizik came into
the stands area. The reason I didn’t was soon apparent. As the first wave of
people out front came through I realized that there were an awful lot of
police amongst them. I would venture to say they were at a ratio of 1 to 5
or 1 to 6

Out in front on either side of the char was a phalanx of helmeted PNH
liberally applying batons.

To be blunt, I was appalled. Many of the CIMO and officers in the crowd in
front were beating people who were simply dancing. You could watch a group
of people suddenly turn back in shock and look at the police raining down
baton blows on their head. I guess this was a preventative strategy to keep
everyone in line. This will NOT attract tourists, in my not so humble and
often flawed opinion.

Ti-Vice did stop and pay homage to Sweet Micky and Mizik Mizik and a couple
of others, thereby candidly rejecting the ti-telefon propaganda. And, once
again, kale sur yo was absolutely another sonic assault. All the flags, all
the moushwas, everyone at the same time singing the same song made it an
event to remember.

Of course there were a number of scuffles that erupted; the crush of the
crowd, the pushing, the shoving, the challenge and the reaction. The fights
are usually quick, usually over within 30 seconds, the perpetrators fleeing
into the crowd to escape the inevitable and furious cascade of the baton,
the police more often than not hitting people who weren’t paying attention.
Sometimes the choreography of the event reminded me of a school of herring
being stalked by dolphins.  The batons would descend and the people would
open a huge space where the police were in pursuit. When the police marched
away, the little fish would immediately return to the space, dancing as if
nothing had happened. Maybe best described as cat and mouse, hunter and
prey? (homage to Averill) I think

I did see one instance that kind of warmed my heart a little. As many of you
know, groups of people snake their way through the crowds, kind of like a
large Conga line.  At the head of one of these groups was a PNH officer. Not
the big, bulky steroid and creatine supplement kind, but an average looking
Haitian guy. His baton in the air like he was leading a march, taking two
steps and then shaking his dada, another two steps and shaking his dada…jenn
li te vle; everyone behind holding to each other waist, doing the same
thing. It was great to see.  He was obviously enjoying himself too.


Like I mentioned before, however, the violence seems banal in how it is
viewed and reacted to. This night we saw a skirmish erupt below us again. A
large thin fellow, he must have been a good 6 foot five inches chased a
small man into the crowd raining down blows on his head. The man was trying
to escape and the hunter gave him a final round house open handed smack to
the back of his head. He then danced in front of his victim, raising his
hands in the air in triumph. He then went back to his position with his baz,
close to where it occurred. No one did anything. No one challenged him. Kind
of a Homer Simpson reaction: “Ah well, Marge, whaddya gonna do?” I watched
several younger men who were making calculations as to a possible
retributive assault, but decided not to.  I hate bullies, incidentally, so I
started to make noises, tho I no doubt would have gotten the worst of it,
and I’m too old for those shenanigans anyway. Perhaps a flashback to my
hockey days in Canada.?  That, and everyone told me “Y’ap kale ou, tande?!!
And I could have ended up as a statistic with the other 600 or so people who
got blesse d during the three days. Most, I’m sure were from the ever eager
security staff and the police who were busy protecting and serving.

Djakout’s arrival was a bit of a let down in terms of song quality. One of
the singers lost his voice, so it was pretty gravelly, and after Ti-Vice,
very few of the floats could compare. Although I should say Dega improved
greatly and Tokay gave a good showing.

When it was all over, Tokay had decided to make another run around. We
decided to head home by following their char until we got to the street
where the cars were parked.
On the way out we saw two groups of people getting ready to fight. As we
passed, things got ugly, some blows were exchanged, a lot of colourful
language.  Before things got really carried away two of the largest
combatants embraced in the fighting hugs that normally accompany things.
But, in true Haitian style, as each was hanging on to the other, they
simultaneously reached into their back pockets to take out their badges and
show each other. Yes, both of the group’s largest combatants were undercover
officers.  Carnival is indeed a metaphor.

Comments from one my friends who attended said he was disappointed to see
Ti-Vice stop in front of the palais nationale where the President was
standing on the balcony and pay something more than homage.

So, all in all I had a great time for short periods, following long periods
of people watching. Talking to people afterwards, many criticized it as
boring, lacking good music and floats.  While my first carnival I had to
agree with many of those sentiments. I was, however, interested to know that
in terms of violence, it was a “light” year.  People’s recollections of
earlier years and the accompanying violence they witnessed has given me
pause and wonder at the meaning of it all.

It was interesting to see an absence of sexuality.  True, there was two or
three negs who pulled down their pants to show off their thong underwear and
walked around in a funny fashion. I have a photograph of a guy on top of
char at the back, wearing a dress and a white thong, who kept lifting it up.
But in reality, I didn’t see much in the way of open sexual transgression or
Rabelaisean (spelling) behaviour. Maybe I’m wrong.

Best,
Thor Burnham


_________________________________________________________________
MSN 8 helps eliminate e-mail viruses. Get 2 months FREE*.
http://join.msn.com/?page=features/virus