Caribbean Carnival

     We scrambled out of bed before 6 AM to join the street party that had started at 2 AM. It was easy to find by following the pounding calypso backbeat blaring across downtown Roseau. A trailer was piled high with speakers and a canon that fired eruptions of foam onto the heads of dancing revelers, covering them in bubbles. Another guy flung handfuls of colored powder. Little tie-dyed clouds wafted and then settled into puddles of beer where chickens skittered. Carnival on the island of Dominica.
   

  As Mark and I joined the street “jump-up”, we were transfixed by little dramas in the parades that went by: a  dead looking man being carried in a coffin, a guy in a Donald Trump mask, a scene of a taskmaster beating his slaves, huge contingents of villagers all dressed as convicts, skimpily dressed women of all shapes busting their moves and especially the hundreds of astounding “bwa-bwa” stilt dancers. 

 They gyrated down the street on perches way above our heads. Even some children had mastered the tricky balancing act. Other villages paraded as traditional “sensays” in costumes made from crocus bags, banana leaves, frayed rope and cloth draped in multiple layers around the entire body. Large horned hats completed the look which is somehow supposed

to represent chickens. Maybe chickens from some nightmare fantasy, we thought, especially the ones wearing platform shoes and carrying whips. What impressed us the most was how uncommercialized the outfits were. Most all looked homemade; 

marvels of ingenuity. A contingent of pageant winners from across the island featured young women with ingeniously engineered headdresses that formed a globe, or wings, or encircled them in spirals. One gorgeous ensemble was made entirely of wrapping paper including her dress, necklace and hat. 

   The day was a kaleidoscope of color and pageantry. An adorable promenade of kids pushing their little homemade trucks filled the streets in the afternoon. 
Some rode in cardboard police cars and fire engines. They wore simple matching outfits made from cut-up t-shirts with paper pirate hats. Along the street booths sold drinks, roast chicken and “goat water”, a Caribbean stew. It was funny to us that the parades didn’t go from point A to point B; they simply circled around downtown over and over.    

     Dominica’s Carnival is known for holding true to the island’s French, Caribbean and African traditions. It takes place on the Monday and Tuesday before Ash Wednesday after months of preparation. Even Hurricane Maria didn’t stop the festivities from taking place in 2018. It’s known to be one of the safest Carnival celebrations. We saw plenty of security to balance out the debauchery and even though we were obvious tourists as some of the few White people there, the vibe was welcoming and electrifying. Everyone we asked was happy to pose for photos and seemed genuinely glad to share the festivities.  

            Located in the Leeward Islands of the Lesser Antilles (and not to be confused with the Dominican Republic), Dominica is an independent country lovingly called the Nature Island. Two-thirds of its 290 square miles is covered with lush rainforests that blanket the mountains right down to the rocky, black sand coasts. English is the official language although most islanders also speak a Creole.  Despite being ranked as the top sustainable island in the Caribbean by National Geographic, it is the least visited one.  For Carnival we stayed at the upscale Fort Young Hotel which is steps away from the festivities.  From our ocean front balcony, we enjoyed watching cruise ships docking and scuba divers embarking.   

    

        For lovers of authenticity and cultural expression like us, experiencing Dominica’s Carnival was the ultimate.  It is a dazzling display of social solidarity and boundless creativity set to a pounding rhythm, calypso music and dance. 

If You Go

Carnival in Dominica will be Feb. 24 and 25, 2020

For more information:  https://discoverdominica.com/en