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  ANTONIO DAVID LYONS

thoughts

Carnival and Jouvert: A Repository of Spirit, Community and Culture

9/13/2013

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Carnival and Jouvert: A Repository of Spirit, Community and Culture
by Antonio David Lyons


Originally featured: September 13, 2013 by TheBurtonWire

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Carnival is a major celebration throughout the African Diaspora. Ladies participating in Carnival in Trinidad. (Google Images)
It was a beautiful crisp day. A perfect sky absent of clouds and filled to the brim with the deepest blues. It hung so full of itself that I felt like I could just reach up and touch it. There had been many days that I’d felt that way since moving to Johannesburg, South Africa.

Today was a special day because Carnival had arrived once again!

In 2005 the city of Johannesburg initiated a new Carnival season in hopes of uniting the city and channeling the explosive pent up energy of some its more volatile communities. The Carnival route wound its way through several of the city’s most densely populated communities, which happen to be located in and around the Central Business District (CBD). I’d skipped the actual parade and made my way directly to its end point in the Newtown Cultural Precinct in the heart of downtown Jozi (Johannesburg). I heard the crowd before I saw the hundreds of people enjoying the afternoon sun, loud music and each other’s company.


…cowbells, whistles, horns
piercing the dawn,
Junkanoo man,
I love how you move
up Bay Street
to the tantalizing throbs
of the goombay drums!*
*Excerpted from JUNKANOO MAN poem.
copyright (c) L. Cousins 1997



I walked through the throngs devouring painted faces and fantastical wings. I soaked up soul deep laughter, music and dancing feet.  I made my way towards where the bands were loudest and joined the curious crowd in exploring larger than life floats that did their best to honor the carnival crafting traditions elsewhere in the world. I enjoyed the moment but I was left disappointed and confused. This wasn’t Carnival as I knew it to be. I was searching for something more familiar. I was missing more than the intricate costumes and steel pan of the West Indies and the Caribbean. I was missing the sense of history and purpose that makes Carnival such an extraordinary experience. I was missing the weaving of culture and spirituality that together create a communal transcendence beyond the challenges of the everyday.

I grew up in Carver Ranches in an unincorporated neighborhood in Broward County, Florida. My address said Hollywood, but us locals referred to the place we called home as simply the Ranches. Today that community has been incorporated and is now officially known as the City of West Park. The community was created primarily by Bahamians and their descendants who are incidentally the oldest immigrant population in South Florida.

Bahamian immigrants arrived in the early 1800′s bringing with them the skills that built the first hotel in The Coconut Grove section of Miami, traditional foods, the ringing of steel pan and a carnival tradition called Junkanoo. I grew up attending carnival celebrations with its steel pan and Goombay drum fueled calypso, vendors frying up conch fritters and doling out conch salad, costumes of paper mâché and bodies dancing through the streets. My mother’s family is from the Bahamas and our home was always filled with the smell of culture as food and stories of time spent at “home”. To the outside eye carnival was a time for fun, but for us it was also the expression of cultural roots and historical legacy.

Often when immigrant populations are transplanted elsewhere they carry with them the portable parts of traditions and culture with them. This transference of essential cultural markers helps to maintain a sense of identity for the individual and a sense of continuity for the community. Sometimes the original form or practice may change as the years go by and elders pass away. However the remnants remain and if connections with “home” are maintained a sense of authenticity will shine through.

Junkanoo, similar to other Carnival traditions in the West Indies and Caribbean was a way for slaves to perform identity. They often coincided with Christian religious festivities, which offered the rare reprieve from work and an opportunity to celebrate African traditions and subversive practices hidden in the pageantry and abandon of Carnival. The abolishment of slavery and independence from colonial rule allowed for Carnival to be endowed with a greater expression of national pride and an honoring of historical heroes.

This past Labor Day, I was able to allow history to rise in my blood along with the breaking of the day. I hopped on a train around 1am and made my way towards Brooklyn, the epicenter of West Indian and Caribbean culture in New York City.

Jouvert celebrations were calling and I was intent on “acting bad on the road”! It had been over ten years since I had been able to participate in carnival activities grounded in my cultural context. Jouvert , means breaking of the day and is taken from the carnival traditions of Trinidad. While the term is unique to Trinidad the practice of rising in the night, imbibing of spirits, communal gathering, raising voice in song and instrument, replacing everyday garments with transformational garb and bearing witness to a new you birthed into a new day is characteristic of carnival celebrations throughout carnival cultures.
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Jouvert celebrations take place throughout the world. Children pose for a picture during Trinidad’s Jouvert celebration. (Photo Credit: Google Images)
The beauty of the annual West Indian Day Parade is that it dissolves national lines and binds people together in shared experiences in the Americas and an undeniable similarity in histories and traditions. Our crew gathered that morning hailed from Jamaica, Bahamas, Trinidad, Guyana and America (everyone’s welcome on carnival day).
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Our crew leader was Trinidadian and well versed in ritual of preparation for Jouvert and carnival day. This was my first Jouvert and a knowledgeable guide was necessary and appreciated. He made sure the pre-fete music was constant, appropriate and was cranked up to the correct motivational decibel. He handed out clothing to those of us who had not come prepared to have our everyday street gear soiled by the mayhem to come. Well that was our contemporary interpretation, but from its very beginning this ceremonial preparation was linked to subversive battle and celebration. Why the concern about what to wear?
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Antonio Lyons’ selfie at New York’s Jouvert celebration. (Photo Credit: Antonio Lyons)
A key part of Jouvert is the tradition of playing “Mud Mas”, which involves participants called Jab Jabs covering themselves and everyone else with mud. It is custom that no one who participates in Jouvert should remain clean. In the recreation of the tradition in New York mud has been replaced with paint and powder.  It was almost 4am by the time we began to weave our way through the early morning streets. As we made our now appropriately clothed bodies through the pre-dawn streets, I was keenly aware of the uniqueness of the moment. Every step we took, every new crew member we picked up along the way, every directive given by our crew leader was part of a living ritual that had been centuries in the making. As we got closer to our destination we begin to see other revelers heading in the same direction, people began spotting and greeting people they knew, we saw others who had already been playing mas since 2am!

By the time we reached Eastern Parkway I was almost skip running with excitement to turn the corneronto Flatbush Avenue and when I did I was hit with the sounds of steel pan and soca. I was drenched in smiling faces, bodies winding, strangers greeting, hands slapping bodies and multicolored streams of paint flying through the air. I was overwhelmed by it all, stopped in my tracks not sure where to begin and then a face close to me broke into an even wider grin and greeted me warmly. It was an old college friend, you never know who you going to run into on Jouvert morning or Ccarnival day.

The rest of the morning turned stranger into friend and affirmed the power of community, creativity and spirit to elevate the mundane.

I stumbled away from the festivities with sore feet and a light heart. It was joyous to see people of every age reaffirm traditions brought from “home”, replanted in foreign soil and allowed to grow and flourish. For me Jouvert and Carnival represent a rebirth and affirmation of life in all of its varied colors. It also represents an opportunity to pay homage to the many ancestors who have danced upon the road and played mas so that I could live life free.

Antonio David Lyons is an Artivist (artist activist). Check him out on www.antoniodavidlyons.com. Follow him on Twitter: @AntonioLyons

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The Importance of Cultural Symbology

9/9/2013

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WHAT'S IN A NAME

In a recent post to a Facebook group Diane Regisford shared one of her most recent visual creations. She named the group Nyéléni Gratitude.

I in my insatiable curiosity needed to know the meaning behind Nyéléni. Several sources attach the name to a carved wooden female figure that characterizes the ideal in feminine youthful beauty. The figures are said to have been used as part of traditional male initiation ceremonies. Most recently the name has been adopted by The International Nyéléni Forum for Food Sovereignty, who claim that the name is also attached to a malian legend.

Nyéléni was a woman and a farmer from Mali, whose existence has been passed on through the African oral tradition. According to oral history,she surpassed all others in her ability to farm, introduced new methods and developed new crops.She symbolizes innovation, hard work, and caring for her people. Due to this, she has become the international symbol of Food Sovereignty.

According to the story Nyéléni was from the region of Segou in Mali. She was the only child of Nianso and Saucra, and as she was a girl her parents were ridiculed. She secretly resolved to remove this slur that men had cast on her by defeating them on their own ground, agriculture and the work of the land.Nyéléni took part in farming competitions and defeated all the champions with the best reputation in her village and in the surrounding region. The more arrogant men would challenge her, day after day, and to their disgrace they were all defeated.

Nyéléni’s reputation grew beyond the limits of her region and she became a living legend. The story also says that it was at the beginning of winter, which is the rainy season in Mali, that she domesticated fonio (hungry rice) and samio, cereals that are traditionally eaten nowadays in Mali.


Sources
http://www.nyeleni.org/spip.php?article17
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nyéléni



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J'Ouvert

9/3/2013

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J'Ouvert (breaking of dawn)
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     My J'Ouvert began well before the traditional 4am call to revelry of the masses upon the road. It started around 2am in a garden level apartment of an old friend in the Bedstuy neighborhood of Brooklyn. When I walked in the celebrations were well underway with free flowing alcohol, sound system barking out soca tunes and spirits lifted in a dancing game. I dropped my bag and joined in intent on catching up with all of the good times I'd already missed. The host of the evening shouted my name above the din, opening up introductions to one and all. Carnival spirit ruled the moment and strangers became friends and distances disappeared. It was one of those magical moments that characterize century’s old traditions and rituals that comprise carnival. Many outside of cultures that celebrate carnival often aren't aware that it is a spiritual and religious ceremony that on one hand prepares participants for the Christian season of lent and on the other celebrates the spirit of freedom of its African ancestors.  As I made my way through the room and danced deeper into the morning I was reminded of the liberation of spirit that comes through music and communal gathering. While I'd celebrated many a Carnival season this was to be my first J'Ouvert! 
     As the night receded and the dawn crept towards us we began to prepare ourselves for the ritual to come. We roused those that had drifted to sleep. We changed our clothes from normal street wear to things that we didn’t mind getting a little roughed up. We draped ourselves in our national colors or grabbed a flag to wave.  The beauty of diaspora carnival is that it bridges the divide that might exist on any other day. On this day we are all West Indian; Island people sharing similar cultures and traditions. Our J’Ouvert crew represented Guyana, Trinidad, Jamaica, the Bahamas and the Virgin Islands. We were a rambunctious and jovial crew as we wove our way through the streets of Brooklyn heading towards Ocean Ave and Eastern Pkwy.  This early morning ritual was being repeated across the city, mirroring traditions transplanted with West Indian immigrants as they settled in New York City as early as the 1920’s. The closer we got to the Parkway the more my excitement began to build. I had been waiting the whole year for this celebration. It had been almost 15 years since I’d had the pleasure of witnessing the pageantry of carnival make its way down Eastern Parkway. The joy and pride at hearing steel pan and reggae as all around you people are wearing and waving their colors with pride. It has to be one of the most exhilarating experiences one could ever have. As the sky began to lighten and the sound of the pans hit my ears I knew this was a transcending moment. They say the spirits comes a calling in the early morning hours. I felt the ancestors rise as a strangers smile greeted my eyes and colors flew through the air….As freedom moved through dancing winding and gyrating bodies…As old friends appeared and disappeared…As I allowed myself to be swept away into the fantasy of J’Ouvert morning.

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 My once white shirt was now streaked with reds, blues and oranges. Explosions of silver hand prints decorated my chest and white flecked my nose.  Somehow through the revelry my mind came into sharp focus remembering that the root of this moment was the slave celebrating freedom and defying oppression; Claiming, endowing and recreating a new ritual that is all his own. I saw in J’Ouvert the power of the feminine. I watched as women stood in full ownership of their bodies, their sensuality and sexuality. Whole beings capable of taking a wind and giving a wind back. Denying a suitor or beckoning one with a twitch of a hip. During J’Ouvert and carnival the sacred Goddess is reborn she sheds the skin of limitations and is reborn whole and complete.  The dawn gave way to morning, revelations, tired feet and sore hip flexors and still we journeyed on. Old and Young recreating this ritual determined to play there part in keeping tradition alive. For some, like me there are new awakenings and for others a rediscovering of the sacred in the everyday.  By the end of the day months of planning, crafting, sewing and rehearsing will have filled hearts and minds with the power of freedom and pride. Even when the crowds have dissipated they will have carried with them a spark of the divine whispered in every note and suggested with every winding waist.
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