VCD FULLJOY YUHSELF - WE LIME IN DE EAST!!
By: Gwendolene Roberts
We Limin Around De Island Correspondent & Freelance Writer
Email: gwen.c.rob@gmail.com
It’s 3pm and I am here early. I want to take in the sights and sounds of a party team scrambling to gears up for a night of heavy partying from serious partygoers. As I enter the venue I cannot help but think… “Mud and More Mud!!!” That pore-raising song from Machel Montano’s Book of Angels CD comes to mind. I spot two of the fete organisers and I feel a bit sorry for them. In the pouring rain there they are, slipping and sliding under the weight of plush couches and portable A/C units to ready things for the King of Soca himself – Mr. Fete! I am thankful I have chosen to wear 6-inch stacked heel. No matter how deep I tread, that mud is not gonna mess with that lovely ‘pedi’ I got after my Parang gallivanting pre-Christmas.
Mr. Promoter sees to my comfort and then is off like a bullet. I wander about and take in the sights… and the smells…. Barbecue chicken bussing up my olfactory nerves… Can’t wait to taste that! NOICE!!!! Over by the bar several of the staff wine low to the music pumping from the huge speakers that dwarf the stage. Machel, Swappi, Benjai, JW and Blaze, and Prophet Benjamin throwing wine on Portugal pegs! I feel like jiggling something. I look at the set up and note happily that the pavilion is directly opposite the stage so folks like moi, dodging raindrops from falling on our hair, can safely hide away, and wine in peace – still able to see the whole scene unfold.
The pace picks up intensity as the time draws close to show time. A few patrons have come early to avoid the rain, as have I, and they look on with concern. Will they get it together in time for the show???? I don’t think my heart could take that kind of jamming. I walk inside to check out the LADY’s Lounge and as if by some magic trick, when I return…Done! Ready! Just as people begin to trickle-in, in groups. Bent under the weights of their coolers they face the suddenly almighty gate crew who can mash up a lime just like that by saying “you can’t come in with that!” I laugh out loud as I hear some fellas telling the girls they’ve come with; “allyuh go in with the cooler nah… they go give allyuh a bligh!” The poor girls look like they want to cuss… suddenly they’ve become the “strongmen” toting an over heavy cooler –looks more like a fridge – through the narrow lanes erected for crowd control.
The music volume rises as the number of patrons cross what I think is 100. The announcer picks up the mic…. And VCD FULLJOY YUHSELF has officially begun. I watch in admiration as the crew who was just moments before sweating bullets quietly slip through the side gate and head out… some to go get ready to come back and “maintain ah vibes” and others to rest…Thankfully. The crowd quickly picks up and I make my way to the barbecue man. I don’t want to miss out on anything so I eating now! Several big crews arrive and set up camp at the top of the pavilion, and in the middle of the venue… I see my friends by the stands but I not playing foolish. I eating all my chicken and fries first, before I go up there… The kinda fellas in that crew, I would be lucky if I got a bite at all… Belly full, I head up to the pavilion and to the lime. All I want right now is a cold LLB to wash down that garlic sauce. My girl done bubbling in the corner; T.C. new tune have she in grip. I and all feeling that vibes… “Coz I got plenty vibes, plenty vibes and plenty action.” I start to wine and bend down low… I even touch my toe just coz he asked nicely…and you know Shal “Trouble” must follow… A fella in the middle of the dance done bareback already oui… What he drinking so?? We laugh out as he starts to do the dougie in the middle of a soca fete…
Prophet Benjamin takes to the stage and I will admit to being more than slightly shocked. My youth have two dancers that have on less pants than the underwear I sleep in…. the man on a totally different vibes this year oui… All on Kam-i-lah de man throw wine… The crowd know every word!!! I love it!!! Miss carnival??? Yuh must be mad!!!! Then it occurs to me… Wait nah...All them people I seeing wining low, wining low in mud hoss!!!! I take a walk to the front of the stage – my stacked ALDO heels have me looking ‘above it all.’ I will study how dirty they are after. Fellas Polo and Jordans brown already. Women fancy slippers and oxford styled shoes gone through and you feel them care… That is the power of Soca!!! The DJ is pumping all the latest. Machel is the headline act and he is going to make sure the patrons know every word to his new songs by the time Mr. Fete hits the stage.
Whitney Husbands is doing a creditable job controlling the stage but when she introduces the next acts to take the stage – Shal and T.C. there is an audible intake of breath from several people around the venue which is now full up to the brim. I guess they’re remembering the talk….Ahem…. But whatever yes, because the kind of big dutty wine T.C. was putting down on that stage I was focusing on the wine I was putting down oui.The man waist has snake oil… That is wine!!! Level waist! And I liked the blue pants Shal had on too...but it blocking the “type ah wine” I wanted to see man…. Chupse… Hear nah… Where them artiste does learn to wine boi? T.C. waist pelting and Shal have an infectious twitch…. Wayyyyzzz…..I had to put up my locks in a ponytail after that oui. Phew… My back done wet and the thing now start…
Nebula 868 went on after and changed up the tempo with their “poor conduct” and other signature techno/pop/rap/soca vibes. I see a couple guys copying their moves too…in the mud… Nobody care about that mud boi…Carnival is level scandal! Ask anybody. The promoters put some barrels in a couple spots throughout the venue – I think to help folks organise their drinks. Man have their girlfriends standing on them bubbling low! One shorty though, I feel glad she get a barrel because when she stand up on the thing the woman only now reach my height – no way she was seeing the show if she was on ground level…
When I was walking back to the pavilion I see this fella coming towards me with batting pads strapped to his shins; could be tugs, but nah I don’t believe they are… they are too big. Alrighty then! I shake my head and walk off and get a drink from the cooler/fridge… yes the same cooler from earlier just so happens to be the crew I moving with… LMAO!!!! You know when Husbands introduce the next act – Swappi is the same fella with the batting pads on!!!!!! Oh gorm. I weak... Only now he have on these 4D glasses and I wonder where he get them from because I doubt he get that in Cinemas8, Movietowne, or IMAX!!!! You know the crowd gone off!!! Swappi in this blue kit and green 4D shades start to pull in the crowd with he “Flute” then he swapperize the crowd with a “bucket” in preparation for his ‘thick sauce’ who had the fellas in the crowd bawling out! And he had not one, but from the looks of things, two of them… The second girl buss a split that had man holding their heads…
Well I sorry, but I had to throw some waist myself. The man was doing some matrix moves up on the stage, but he lyrics and rhythms hard like banga seed yow. After he done and he “4D Gyals” done show everybody how to “bubble on a DJ,” and I ketch my breath, I draw for another drink too… Play like yuh doh know nah! Mr. 4D leave the stage and I say boi, whoever go after he I hope they come good because….. I would not like to be going after an energetic performer like that.
But the stage team have it together too. Because they juggled some tunes before introducing the next act. Chucky with his new tune for the season was next and the groovy vibes lowered the temperatures nicely. RKG was followed by upcoming artiste Sharadah, in a figure revealing Christian Boucaud piece, who did her thing on stage with her song for the season. In my cups by this time all I knew was that after her two fellas – Dev and Klassy - came on stage asking about “a drinking partner.” I think I would have been a good choice! Olatunji had them woman asking he number when he sing “Call Meh,” But Gabby take win with she “Dutty” tune… D smally seemed a little nervous but she sounded as like with some more exposure, she might say something… But is Mr. Killa who buss the whole thing wide open. The Spice islander bring he “Sugarpot” on stage and done the place. A free style session had women blushing and gave plenty fellas plenty ideas…. Mr. Fete could not have asked for a better opener for his act.
As this was the very first time Machel Montano has graced a stage in the East, his entrance reminded every woman there, why they had braved the rain, running mascara, having to change their weave after this show and lose a pretty pair of shoes… to come still. Mr. Fete and his special ‘jook!!!!’ Oh my…. Moving without his dancers and enveloping the stage with his persona, ‘the 2Million dollar man,’ as he was billed by Whitney Husbands in her introduction, wasted no time putting to rest any query as to why he is the most sought after performer in the Soca Universe. Running through hit after soca hit, often having the audience singing out entire verses, Machel Montano had the ladies lucky enough to be at the front of the stage in a wining frenzy. One particular girl on top of a barrel caught his eye and he made her into a FullJoy Yuhself Star – singing out wining motions for her to do... And she did them with pride.
After having a little ‘interaction’ with one of the frenzied women near the stage Mr. Fete made an off-colour suggestion that sent the crowd into raptures with the men catcalling and the women oohing. Laughing out he proceeded to point out certain stage tricks that were uniquely his and reminded his soca counterparts – one who had been on stage earlier in the evening – that he needed to find his own style and not copy the King of Soca. The bacchanal brewing was palpable and made the already highly excited crowd all that more boisterous.
In an uncharacteristic move he sang a song… a song currently being given level forwards on the radio waves…. A hint – it goes, “I’z ah….” by an artiste, with a French sounding name… Mr. Fete himself labelled it Groovy Soca Monarch 2012… The crowd went wild. Machel Montano – singing somebody else song??!!!!!!! That is a big big BIG BIG BIG forwards right there… and it didn’t stop there either. This man with thirty (30) years of Soca under his belt, with a magic that makes yuh can’t stop wine and wuk up once he on stage had everybody sweaty… BELIEVE ME!!!! The man had we “Revelling,” “Vibes Cyah Done-ing,” getting ready for “work” and boi lemme tell you, you see that tune “Mr. Fete!!!!!!!” That does have me weak…. That is the kind of tune you HAVE to close your eyes and wine in abandon to…. Ah telling yuh!!! Machel bring on Benjai to do a cameo, but Lord, people could barely hear him – at least from where I was – until Mr. Soca came back on to calm them down, because plenty people were singing Machel tune over and over and wining mindlessly to a rhythm only they could hear. I hope Benjai wasn’t “toting feelings” though – because eventually the crowd settled in and all that “kinky wine” he feed the crowd make plenty folks start to talk about the post-party activities they would be engaging in after FullJoy…. I personally used that tune for inspiration too… *wink wink*
I glimpsed the promoter man out of the corner of my eye as I was leaving the venue and I know he must have been glowing from inside out, because the party was ram-packed, nobody coast out because of the muddy scene – well not obviously anyway… everybody adapt and party out their liver strings in Squadron Grounds, Sunrise Park, Trincity…. I feel next year they should pray hard for more rain oui… People partying in mud never wined sweeter… Even I will invest in some galoshes if that is the scene… And I love me some heels eh!!! Take win FULLJOY crew! Take win!! Coz That is Fete!!!!!
We Limin Around De Island Correspondent & Freelance Writer
Email: gwen.c.rob@gmail.com
It’s 3pm and I am here early. I want to take in the sights and sounds of a party team scrambling to gears up for a night of heavy partying from serious partygoers. As I enter the venue I cannot help but think… “Mud and More Mud!!!” That pore-raising song from Machel Montano’s Book of Angels CD comes to mind. I spot two of the fete organisers and I feel a bit sorry for them. In the pouring rain there they are, slipping and sliding under the weight of plush couches and portable A/C units to ready things for the King of Soca himself – Mr. Fete! I am thankful I have chosen to wear 6-inch stacked heel. No matter how deep I tread, that mud is not gonna mess with that lovely ‘pedi’ I got after my Parang gallivanting pre-Christmas.
Mr. Promoter sees to my comfort and then is off like a bullet. I wander about and take in the sights… and the smells…. Barbecue chicken bussing up my olfactory nerves… Can’t wait to taste that! NOICE!!!! Over by the bar several of the staff wine low to the music pumping from the huge speakers that dwarf the stage. Machel, Swappi, Benjai, JW and Blaze, and Prophet Benjamin throwing wine on Portugal pegs! I feel like jiggling something. I look at the set up and note happily that the pavilion is directly opposite the stage so folks like moi, dodging raindrops from falling on our hair, can safely hide away, and wine in peace – still able to see the whole scene unfold.
The pace picks up intensity as the time draws close to show time. A few patrons have come early to avoid the rain, as have I, and they look on with concern. Will they get it together in time for the show???? I don’t think my heart could take that kind of jamming. I walk inside to check out the LADY’s Lounge and as if by some magic trick, when I return…Done! Ready! Just as people begin to trickle-in, in groups. Bent under the weights of their coolers they face the suddenly almighty gate crew who can mash up a lime just like that by saying “you can’t come in with that!” I laugh out loud as I hear some fellas telling the girls they’ve come with; “allyuh go in with the cooler nah… they go give allyuh a bligh!” The poor girls look like they want to cuss… suddenly they’ve become the “strongmen” toting an over heavy cooler –looks more like a fridge – through the narrow lanes erected for crowd control.
The music volume rises as the number of patrons cross what I think is 100. The announcer picks up the mic…. And VCD FULLJOY YUHSELF has officially begun. I watch in admiration as the crew who was just moments before sweating bullets quietly slip through the side gate and head out… some to go get ready to come back and “maintain ah vibes” and others to rest…Thankfully. The crowd quickly picks up and I make my way to the barbecue man. I don’t want to miss out on anything so I eating now! Several big crews arrive and set up camp at the top of the pavilion, and in the middle of the venue… I see my friends by the stands but I not playing foolish. I eating all my chicken and fries first, before I go up there… The kinda fellas in that crew, I would be lucky if I got a bite at all… Belly full, I head up to the pavilion and to the lime. All I want right now is a cold LLB to wash down that garlic sauce. My girl done bubbling in the corner; T.C. new tune have she in grip. I and all feeling that vibes… “Coz I got plenty vibes, plenty vibes and plenty action.” I start to wine and bend down low… I even touch my toe just coz he asked nicely…and you know Shal “Trouble” must follow… A fella in the middle of the dance done bareback already oui… What he drinking so?? We laugh out as he starts to do the dougie in the middle of a soca fete…
Prophet Benjamin takes to the stage and I will admit to being more than slightly shocked. My youth have two dancers that have on less pants than the underwear I sleep in…. the man on a totally different vibes this year oui… All on Kam-i-lah de man throw wine… The crowd know every word!!! I love it!!! Miss carnival??? Yuh must be mad!!!! Then it occurs to me… Wait nah...All them people I seeing wining low, wining low in mud hoss!!!! I take a walk to the front of the stage – my stacked ALDO heels have me looking ‘above it all.’ I will study how dirty they are after. Fellas Polo and Jordans brown already. Women fancy slippers and oxford styled shoes gone through and you feel them care… That is the power of Soca!!! The DJ is pumping all the latest. Machel is the headline act and he is going to make sure the patrons know every word to his new songs by the time Mr. Fete hits the stage.
Whitney Husbands is doing a creditable job controlling the stage but when she introduces the next acts to take the stage – Shal and T.C. there is an audible intake of breath from several people around the venue which is now full up to the brim. I guess they’re remembering the talk….Ahem…. But whatever yes, because the kind of big dutty wine T.C. was putting down on that stage I was focusing on the wine I was putting down oui.The man waist has snake oil… That is wine!!! Level waist! And I liked the blue pants Shal had on too...but it blocking the “type ah wine” I wanted to see man…. Chupse… Hear nah… Where them artiste does learn to wine boi? T.C. waist pelting and Shal have an infectious twitch…. Wayyyyzzz…..I had to put up my locks in a ponytail after that oui. Phew… My back done wet and the thing now start…
Nebula 868 went on after and changed up the tempo with their “poor conduct” and other signature techno/pop/rap/soca vibes. I see a couple guys copying their moves too…in the mud… Nobody care about that mud boi…Carnival is level scandal! Ask anybody. The promoters put some barrels in a couple spots throughout the venue – I think to help folks organise their drinks. Man have their girlfriends standing on them bubbling low! One shorty though, I feel glad she get a barrel because when she stand up on the thing the woman only now reach my height – no way she was seeing the show if she was on ground level…
When I was walking back to the pavilion I see this fella coming towards me with batting pads strapped to his shins; could be tugs, but nah I don’t believe they are… they are too big. Alrighty then! I shake my head and walk off and get a drink from the cooler/fridge… yes the same cooler from earlier just so happens to be the crew I moving with… LMAO!!!! You know when Husbands introduce the next act – Swappi is the same fella with the batting pads on!!!!!! Oh gorm. I weak... Only now he have on these 4D glasses and I wonder where he get them from because I doubt he get that in Cinemas8, Movietowne, or IMAX!!!! You know the crowd gone off!!! Swappi in this blue kit and green 4D shades start to pull in the crowd with he “Flute” then he swapperize the crowd with a “bucket” in preparation for his ‘thick sauce’ who had the fellas in the crowd bawling out! And he had not one, but from the looks of things, two of them… The second girl buss a split that had man holding their heads…
Well I sorry, but I had to throw some waist myself. The man was doing some matrix moves up on the stage, but he lyrics and rhythms hard like banga seed yow. After he done and he “4D Gyals” done show everybody how to “bubble on a DJ,” and I ketch my breath, I draw for another drink too… Play like yuh doh know nah! Mr. 4D leave the stage and I say boi, whoever go after he I hope they come good because….. I would not like to be going after an energetic performer like that.
But the stage team have it together too. Because they juggled some tunes before introducing the next act. Chucky with his new tune for the season was next and the groovy vibes lowered the temperatures nicely. RKG was followed by upcoming artiste Sharadah, in a figure revealing Christian Boucaud piece, who did her thing on stage with her song for the season. In my cups by this time all I knew was that after her two fellas – Dev and Klassy - came on stage asking about “a drinking partner.” I think I would have been a good choice! Olatunji had them woman asking he number when he sing “Call Meh,” But Gabby take win with she “Dutty” tune… D smally seemed a little nervous but she sounded as like with some more exposure, she might say something… But is Mr. Killa who buss the whole thing wide open. The Spice islander bring he “Sugarpot” on stage and done the place. A free style session had women blushing and gave plenty fellas plenty ideas…. Mr. Fete could not have asked for a better opener for his act.
As this was the very first time Machel Montano has graced a stage in the East, his entrance reminded every woman there, why they had braved the rain, running mascara, having to change their weave after this show and lose a pretty pair of shoes… to come still. Mr. Fete and his special ‘jook!!!!’ Oh my…. Moving without his dancers and enveloping the stage with his persona, ‘the 2Million dollar man,’ as he was billed by Whitney Husbands in her introduction, wasted no time putting to rest any query as to why he is the most sought after performer in the Soca Universe. Running through hit after soca hit, often having the audience singing out entire verses, Machel Montano had the ladies lucky enough to be at the front of the stage in a wining frenzy. One particular girl on top of a barrel caught his eye and he made her into a FullJoy Yuhself Star – singing out wining motions for her to do... And she did them with pride.
After having a little ‘interaction’ with one of the frenzied women near the stage Mr. Fete made an off-colour suggestion that sent the crowd into raptures with the men catcalling and the women oohing. Laughing out he proceeded to point out certain stage tricks that were uniquely his and reminded his soca counterparts – one who had been on stage earlier in the evening – that he needed to find his own style and not copy the King of Soca. The bacchanal brewing was palpable and made the already highly excited crowd all that more boisterous.
In an uncharacteristic move he sang a song… a song currently being given level forwards on the radio waves…. A hint – it goes, “I’z ah….” by an artiste, with a French sounding name… Mr. Fete himself labelled it Groovy Soca Monarch 2012… The crowd went wild. Machel Montano – singing somebody else song??!!!!!!! That is a big big BIG BIG BIG forwards right there… and it didn’t stop there either. This man with thirty (30) years of Soca under his belt, with a magic that makes yuh can’t stop wine and wuk up once he on stage had everybody sweaty… BELIEVE ME!!!! The man had we “Revelling,” “Vibes Cyah Done-ing,” getting ready for “work” and boi lemme tell you, you see that tune “Mr. Fete!!!!!!!” That does have me weak…. That is the kind of tune you HAVE to close your eyes and wine in abandon to…. Ah telling yuh!!! Machel bring on Benjai to do a cameo, but Lord, people could barely hear him – at least from where I was – until Mr. Soca came back on to calm them down, because plenty people were singing Machel tune over and over and wining mindlessly to a rhythm only they could hear. I hope Benjai wasn’t “toting feelings” though – because eventually the crowd settled in and all that “kinky wine” he feed the crowd make plenty folks start to talk about the post-party activities they would be engaging in after FullJoy…. I personally used that tune for inspiration too… *wink wink*
I glimpsed the promoter man out of the corner of my eye as I was leaving the venue and I know he must have been glowing from inside out, because the party was ram-packed, nobody coast out because of the muddy scene – well not obviously anyway… everybody adapt and party out their liver strings in Squadron Grounds, Sunrise Park, Trincity…. I feel next year they should pray hard for more rain oui… People partying in mud never wined sweeter… Even I will invest in some galoshes if that is the scene… And I love me some heels eh!!! Take win FULLJOY crew! Take win!! Coz That is Fete!!!!!
Parang Soca
By: Gwendolene Roberts
We Limin Around De Island Correspondent & Freelance Writer
Email: gwen.c.rob@gmail.com
It isn’t often that one gets to see flamboyantly dressed men and women attempting – many successfully – to sing three verses and choruses in Spanish or Creolese as it were in Trinidad and Tobago, but around Christmas time everywhere you look strains of the heritage left by the Spanish conquerors is evident. In the four weekends in the run up to Christmas day every Saturday one can find sweet parang music and two step dancers entertaining spectators and performers alike. Never having followed the bands before, I agreed to accompany some friends to two of the festivities just to ‘have a look.’
We have so many hidden treasures in this country that I was both thrilled and excited to know that our first stop would be to San Raphael – a village south of Arima and to the west, I think, of Brazil Village (not to be confused with Brazil the country, as I was as a child when first I heard of this infamous Brazil.) The location of the night’s proceedings was just around the corner from the Police Station so we were very comfortable walking away and leaving the car where we eventually found a parking space. Now forgive me if I am wrong but whilst I speak Spanish to a decent enough degree to be respected by my Latino friends, what I heard that night was interesting to say the least. Several of the lead singers employed a form of pidgin Spanish that I had never heard before and it quickly dawned on me why it was often also called creolese parang music. One band however Los Alumnos de San Juan stood out however in the timbre and clarity of their musicality and Spanish coherence; it is easy to understand why they are the reigning multiple time champions of the annual National Parang Association of Trinidad and Tobago Competition.
Outside of the venue my friends and I partook of the geera neck – salty enough to sober up the drunks among us; chicken foot – tough enough to require deep concentration and pastelles that reminded us that we too needed to find a dozen or so to buy before the prices go sky high. After being whirled around the dance floor several times by very senior gentlemen to a version of the two step that I found quite comical but highly riveting at the same time, we gathered our little posse and made for home. A very nice night altogether.
The following Saturday, December 10th, we made our way up the winding somewhat scary (especially if you are an inexperienced driver) stretch of road that leads to Lopinot – considered one of the biggest village of people of direct Spanish ancestry. The parang was in full swing when we arrived, but competing for attention was the neighbourhood bar which was pumping all the new hits for Carnival 2012 and a lot of the good ones from previous years. We tried to focus on the Parang but, alas, the lure of the other big thing to come - Carnival 2012 - was simply to much and we soon found ourselves – even my friend’s mother who is into her sixties – gyrating to the rhythms of the Machel Montano, Kerwin du Bois, Kees and Destra tunes that we all agreed would be big; huge, next year. The scores of people that descended on this village for the parang festivities were so much though that soon enough we knew it didn’t matter if we physically attended or not- in Trinidad and Tobago Parang is to dance is to Carnival is to Soca is to rhythms is to movements over which we the people of this twin-island republic have absolutely no control.
The DJ was mixing Nadia Batson and Sherwin Winchester soca with Daisy Voisin, Scrunter and Baron renditions so artlessly that the two-step and wining motions of the “parang feters” seemed to belong no matter what was coming from the speakers. The ‘geera’ this time around was delicious; flavoured just right and the sauce…. Lord the sauce was phenomenal – FYI Trinbagonians love a good sauce!!!! When the police eventually informed the general public that it was “time to rack up,” groans of disappointment could be heard all around.
Sticky and sweaty from the juke joint type fete we had just sampled so gloriously, we made our way - fanning our clammy fingers in front of our faces for ‘breeze’- to the car. Another successful mission accomplished. Next Year God willing I’ll be doing it again! That time though, I will know not to wear fancy wedges to a ballet-flat jam session. Note to self, “make an appointment to get a pedicure!!!”
We Limin Around De Island Correspondent & Freelance Writer
Email: gwen.c.rob@gmail.com
It isn’t often that one gets to see flamboyantly dressed men and women attempting – many successfully – to sing three verses and choruses in Spanish or Creolese as it were in Trinidad and Tobago, but around Christmas time everywhere you look strains of the heritage left by the Spanish conquerors is evident. In the four weekends in the run up to Christmas day every Saturday one can find sweet parang music and two step dancers entertaining spectators and performers alike. Never having followed the bands before, I agreed to accompany some friends to two of the festivities just to ‘have a look.’
We have so many hidden treasures in this country that I was both thrilled and excited to know that our first stop would be to San Raphael – a village south of Arima and to the west, I think, of Brazil Village (not to be confused with Brazil the country, as I was as a child when first I heard of this infamous Brazil.) The location of the night’s proceedings was just around the corner from the Police Station so we were very comfortable walking away and leaving the car where we eventually found a parking space. Now forgive me if I am wrong but whilst I speak Spanish to a decent enough degree to be respected by my Latino friends, what I heard that night was interesting to say the least. Several of the lead singers employed a form of pidgin Spanish that I had never heard before and it quickly dawned on me why it was often also called creolese parang music. One band however Los Alumnos de San Juan stood out however in the timbre and clarity of their musicality and Spanish coherence; it is easy to understand why they are the reigning multiple time champions of the annual National Parang Association of Trinidad and Tobago Competition.
Outside of the venue my friends and I partook of the geera neck – salty enough to sober up the drunks among us; chicken foot – tough enough to require deep concentration and pastelles that reminded us that we too needed to find a dozen or so to buy before the prices go sky high. After being whirled around the dance floor several times by very senior gentlemen to a version of the two step that I found quite comical but highly riveting at the same time, we gathered our little posse and made for home. A very nice night altogether.
The following Saturday, December 10th, we made our way up the winding somewhat scary (especially if you are an inexperienced driver) stretch of road that leads to Lopinot – considered one of the biggest village of people of direct Spanish ancestry. The parang was in full swing when we arrived, but competing for attention was the neighbourhood bar which was pumping all the new hits for Carnival 2012 and a lot of the good ones from previous years. We tried to focus on the Parang but, alas, the lure of the other big thing to come - Carnival 2012 - was simply to much and we soon found ourselves – even my friend’s mother who is into her sixties – gyrating to the rhythms of the Machel Montano, Kerwin du Bois, Kees and Destra tunes that we all agreed would be big; huge, next year. The scores of people that descended on this village for the parang festivities were so much though that soon enough we knew it didn’t matter if we physically attended or not- in Trinidad and Tobago Parang is to dance is to Carnival is to Soca is to rhythms is to movements over which we the people of this twin-island republic have absolutely no control.
The DJ was mixing Nadia Batson and Sherwin Winchester soca with Daisy Voisin, Scrunter and Baron renditions so artlessly that the two-step and wining motions of the “parang feters” seemed to belong no matter what was coming from the speakers. The ‘geera’ this time around was delicious; flavoured just right and the sauce…. Lord the sauce was phenomenal – FYI Trinbagonians love a good sauce!!!! When the police eventually informed the general public that it was “time to rack up,” groans of disappointment could be heard all around.
Sticky and sweaty from the juke joint type fete we had just sampled so gloriously, we made our way - fanning our clammy fingers in front of our faces for ‘breeze’- to the car. Another successful mission accomplished. Next Year God willing I’ll be doing it again! That time though, I will know not to wear fancy wedges to a ballet-flat jam session. Note to self, “make an appointment to get a pedicure!!!”
On Returning to Trinidad & Limin on De Avenue After De Curfew
By: Gwendolene Roberts
We Limin Around De Island Correspondent & Freelance Writer
Email: gwen.c.rob@gmail.com
From above, Trinidad and Tobago looks so peaceful; so calm. High above the clouds in an airplane I begin my descent into Piarco International Airport. Lucky for me I can go through the CARICOM nationals line, so I am past all the security checks and luggage claims before any of the other passengers. Emerging into the hot Caribbean sun, I immediately remove my jacket – a warm, comfortable checked piece that made my trip comfortable. To the right I notice the taxi queue and head over to negotiate with a driver to take me home. I get home and all is well. The curfew has just been lifted, so on my Blackberry – which I’ve only just switched back on – there are several broadcasts regarding parties on the Avenue. I respond to my girls crew and take a nap so I will be fresh for the night’s events.
Unpacking is such a chore! Finally I’m done and gifts from my trip are sorted. Eight o’clock arrives and I begin to prepare for the night’s festivities. My friends arrive and we set off. On the Avenue there is so much to do. We stop in at Coco Lounge – they’ve recently introduced a sushi counter. The lifting of the curfew has created an excitement. Across the road at Little Havana the crowds spill out into the street and the Latin rhythms have beckoned frenzied dancers who sweat energetically to the latest offering from Don Omar and Lucenzo. We move on from the Lounge and make our way down the Avenue to check out the sights and sounds before settling on a place to pass the rest of the hours.
There are so many options; so many people of all colours and races jammed into this stretch of road that I would be amazed to find out that there is any person still left at home on this night. We pass El Pecos, More Vino, Veni Mange. There’s a Wendy’s on the Avenue now – tres weird. Hakka is fully booked a year after opening and so is LeVels – that does not stop people from pouring into the sushi bar however; the grey-haired Peruvian Head sushi chef is a hit on this twin-island. He works magic with raw fish. Looking North, I note that the IMAX theatre is up and running and there, across the road, Ms. Anya Ayoung-Chee is stepping out of her jeep to enter the cute little restaurant on the corner next to Hakka. It’s like seeing a movie star. Even whilst I was abroad, I made the time to contribute three thousand (3000 votes towards her winning the Fan favourite for Project Runway. It is a proud moment for me and I sound like a little kid – “Look, look… It’s Anya Ayoung-Chee…Should I go ask her for a picture; an autograph?” But I don’t. Because I understand that even as you are made famous for your hard work, you do want privacy and from the looks of the people she is meeting with, I believe it’s a family outing… Only oblivious people would intrude on that.
The sushi, as always is unbelievably delicious and after sharing five platters with my friends, we pay the bill, tip our waiter, Stefan, and move our little band back up the avenue. On the right about two corners away there’s another street front bar that’s swinging; I’m not sure what it’s called, it’s as if it popped up overnight. The Gyro carts are doing brisk business as usual and I laugh out loud because just as we are pulling off from the traffic lights, the guy who had just bought a gyro and bit in – the bottom opened out for some strange reason and there he was with his face in pain as sticky garlic sauce and ketchup ran down his shirt front. He looks so angry, it’s funny. Next door is doing brisk business also and we are lucky to get a parking spot. We trot over to Little Havana and it’s “Cheers to the freaking weekend!!” Rihanna couldn’t have said it better.
Blue lights signal the police making a routine pass on the Avenue and no one gives them a second thought. Well apart from stopping to observe one of the officers chatting up a young lady in some very tight, white shorts and stacked heels. I can understand the effect she has on the officer, who’s probably bored with the lack of action for him to intervene in. They move on, and almost as if on cue, Saucy Pow emerges from the corner and walks along – with entourage- just in front of Deloitte – the accounting company. There, the pavement is clear and –not known for modesty, a dance routine is started by Saucy. Some men hackle, but for the most part people are willing to leave this overtly cross-dressing person to his own devices. Tonight he is in a feather boa, stocking with mini skirt over and a silk glove on one hand (a subtle reference to Michael Jackson). Having seen him several times in the past, I note to myself that he’s looking a bit worse for wear tonight. I am told that he is HIV positive, and I wonder at his back story. He moves on and the focus of most people return to their groups – in my country Homosexuality and its relatives are illegal but socially, people generally live and let live.
Someone suggests going to Ma Pau – a casino located on the eastern end of the Avenue – which I just heard, we Trinis have begun referring to as ‘the Strip.’ I state up front that I will not be gambling – I am against parting with my hard-earned money even if the odds are in my favour. Call me scaredy-cat! We go into the casino, and it is my first time entering a gambling establishment. We go upstairs to the tables and I watch in fascination as my friend plays a game I know as ‘21’- I think it has a different name in here. I do not ask. She wins two hundred and loses it back then makes back one hundred and fifty and decides to leave. I am happy. I saw a gentleman to her left lose two thousand dollars in five (5) minutes. That is crazy, at least to me!
We head out and end up on the Boulevard by Aura. There is a long line snaking to get into the club upstairs – 51. We decide to stay in Aura for a bit and happen unto a mini band launch. The costumes are quite cute and it leads to a discussion about playing mas. There are so many bands and sections now that a fierce debate strikes up on which one is better. I sit back and a feeling of contentment and peace comes over me. Earlier I may have felt like a tourist in my own home, but now, there is no doubt about it – I am back, I am home, I love my homeland, and there is no place on earth I’d rather be!!
We Limin Around De Island Correspondent & Freelance Writer
Email: gwen.c.rob@gmail.com
From above, Trinidad and Tobago looks so peaceful; so calm. High above the clouds in an airplane I begin my descent into Piarco International Airport. Lucky for me I can go through the CARICOM nationals line, so I am past all the security checks and luggage claims before any of the other passengers. Emerging into the hot Caribbean sun, I immediately remove my jacket – a warm, comfortable checked piece that made my trip comfortable. To the right I notice the taxi queue and head over to negotiate with a driver to take me home. I get home and all is well. The curfew has just been lifted, so on my Blackberry – which I’ve only just switched back on – there are several broadcasts regarding parties on the Avenue. I respond to my girls crew and take a nap so I will be fresh for the night’s events.
Unpacking is such a chore! Finally I’m done and gifts from my trip are sorted. Eight o’clock arrives and I begin to prepare for the night’s festivities. My friends arrive and we set off. On the Avenue there is so much to do. We stop in at Coco Lounge – they’ve recently introduced a sushi counter. The lifting of the curfew has created an excitement. Across the road at Little Havana the crowds spill out into the street and the Latin rhythms have beckoned frenzied dancers who sweat energetically to the latest offering from Don Omar and Lucenzo. We move on from the Lounge and make our way down the Avenue to check out the sights and sounds before settling on a place to pass the rest of the hours.
There are so many options; so many people of all colours and races jammed into this stretch of road that I would be amazed to find out that there is any person still left at home on this night. We pass El Pecos, More Vino, Veni Mange. There’s a Wendy’s on the Avenue now – tres weird. Hakka is fully booked a year after opening and so is LeVels – that does not stop people from pouring into the sushi bar however; the grey-haired Peruvian Head sushi chef is a hit on this twin-island. He works magic with raw fish. Looking North, I note that the IMAX theatre is up and running and there, across the road, Ms. Anya Ayoung-Chee is stepping out of her jeep to enter the cute little restaurant on the corner next to Hakka. It’s like seeing a movie star. Even whilst I was abroad, I made the time to contribute three thousand (3000 votes towards her winning the Fan favourite for Project Runway. It is a proud moment for me and I sound like a little kid – “Look, look… It’s Anya Ayoung-Chee…Should I go ask her for a picture; an autograph?” But I don’t. Because I understand that even as you are made famous for your hard work, you do want privacy and from the looks of the people she is meeting with, I believe it’s a family outing… Only oblivious people would intrude on that.
The sushi, as always is unbelievably delicious and after sharing five platters with my friends, we pay the bill, tip our waiter, Stefan, and move our little band back up the avenue. On the right about two corners away there’s another street front bar that’s swinging; I’m not sure what it’s called, it’s as if it popped up overnight. The Gyro carts are doing brisk business as usual and I laugh out loud because just as we are pulling off from the traffic lights, the guy who had just bought a gyro and bit in – the bottom opened out for some strange reason and there he was with his face in pain as sticky garlic sauce and ketchup ran down his shirt front. He looks so angry, it’s funny. Next door is doing brisk business also and we are lucky to get a parking spot. We trot over to Little Havana and it’s “Cheers to the freaking weekend!!” Rihanna couldn’t have said it better.
Blue lights signal the police making a routine pass on the Avenue and no one gives them a second thought. Well apart from stopping to observe one of the officers chatting up a young lady in some very tight, white shorts and stacked heels. I can understand the effect she has on the officer, who’s probably bored with the lack of action for him to intervene in. They move on, and almost as if on cue, Saucy Pow emerges from the corner and walks along – with entourage- just in front of Deloitte – the accounting company. There, the pavement is clear and –not known for modesty, a dance routine is started by Saucy. Some men hackle, but for the most part people are willing to leave this overtly cross-dressing person to his own devices. Tonight he is in a feather boa, stocking with mini skirt over and a silk glove on one hand (a subtle reference to Michael Jackson). Having seen him several times in the past, I note to myself that he’s looking a bit worse for wear tonight. I am told that he is HIV positive, and I wonder at his back story. He moves on and the focus of most people return to their groups – in my country Homosexuality and its relatives are illegal but socially, people generally live and let live.
Someone suggests going to Ma Pau – a casino located on the eastern end of the Avenue – which I just heard, we Trinis have begun referring to as ‘the Strip.’ I state up front that I will not be gambling – I am against parting with my hard-earned money even if the odds are in my favour. Call me scaredy-cat! We go into the casino, and it is my first time entering a gambling establishment. We go upstairs to the tables and I watch in fascination as my friend plays a game I know as ‘21’- I think it has a different name in here. I do not ask. She wins two hundred and loses it back then makes back one hundred and fifty and decides to leave. I am happy. I saw a gentleman to her left lose two thousand dollars in five (5) minutes. That is crazy, at least to me!
We head out and end up on the Boulevard by Aura. There is a long line snaking to get into the club upstairs – 51. We decide to stay in Aura for a bit and happen unto a mini band launch. The costumes are quite cute and it leads to a discussion about playing mas. There are so many bands and sections now that a fierce debate strikes up on which one is better. I sit back and a feeling of contentment and peace comes over me. Earlier I may have felt like a tourist in my own home, but now, there is no doubt about it – I am back, I am home, I love my homeland, and there is no place on earth I’d rather be!!