With the second Bahamas Carnival on the horizon, it is disturbing how Junkanoo and carnival are continually conflated in the minds of many, including many who should know better or who should be more informed.

The very name Junkanoo Carnival conflates and confuses two distinct cultural forms, each of which enjoys unique histories and is in significant ways experientially different in areas such as the design of costume and the overall character of the event.

The carnival idea, extravaganza and party promoted by the government, is mostly a musical festival with very few elements of Junkanoo and a mockery of elements of carnival that a visitor from Trinidad and Tobago might find amusing if not laughable, and in some ways a pathetic or counterfeit knock-off of the real thing.

Reportedly, so confused were officials about what Bahamas carnival should be, that many elements were thrown together in the desperate hope that something would work culturally.

The resulting mishmash turned out to be a great party with wonderful entertainment. A number of Bahamian artists produced songs. But in terms of a cultural form, carnival failed. It failed to attract a significant number of tourists, one of its main goals. It went over budget, with many still questioning the government’s transparency over costs.

We cheapened the essence of Junkanoo, a form of high art and theater, when we concocted a sort of road march, which in carnival countries is often a baseless show of debauchery.

A veteran commentator in a local tabloid opined that the addition of carnival-like elements is good for the evolution of Junkanoo. One wonders whether the commentator finds Junkanoo too African, needing the supposedly more European touches of carnival to improve the supposedly less sophisticated Junkanoo.

Ignorance

The view evinces a curious ignorance and prejudice, and stunning lack of appreciation for the operatic wonder, sophistication and magic of Junkanoo.

For the purpose of contrast, this week’s column offers some of the flavor of Trinidad and Tobago-style carnival. Next week’s column will look at Junkanoo from the perspective of non-Bahamian observers enraptured with the brilliance of Bahamian Junkanoo.

A Bahamian friend who has been to Trinidad for carnival on numerous occasions notes four of the pillars of carnival: the calypso monarch competition, panorama, the band launch/calypso tents/private fetes and the road march.

The first Bahamas carnival borrowed the idea of the road march and some of the costuming of carnival. In Trinidad and Tobago, carnival is a season that culminates with the road march and the giddy frolic in the streets. This is the image that many Bahamians have of carnival.

For many in Trinidad and Tobago, carnival ends on Ash Wednesday when the faithful revelers go to their various churches to receive ashes and supposedly to repent for their sins and to pray that pictures of them ‘whining down the place’ are not splashed across the front page of the Trinidad Express on Thursday morning.

Not all Trinis ‘play mas’, aka participate in the road march. Carnival season starts right around Christmas time, which is prime time for Junkanooers. The various Soca artists begin to release the songs that they hope will find favor with radio stations, so-called fete organizers and the ever-prized “selectors” (fancy DJs).

Christmas time is when Trinis sing Parang, and come January, they go into a near trance as they begin to prepare body and mind for J’ouvert Morning (Monday) the penultimate event of carnival season leading into Last Lap (Tuesday night). To escape the revelry, thousands of residents leave the country.

Panorama is the annual music competition of steel bands from across Trinidad and Tobago and comes closest to matching our Junkanoo. Panorama is a brilliant play on words evoking the steel pan, which was invented in Trinidad only approximately 75 years ago, and the Greek word for a multi-dimensional view.

Experience

To experience Panorama is akin to stepping into the heart of Rawson Square on Boxing Day morning or to be invited to a large-scale Junkanoo practice. A friend describes the experience: “Your heart, your brain, your eyes, your ears and your skin are enthralled.”

To play Panorama one does not need a fancy costume and whining skills. To be invited onto the stage for the final Panorama competition you need years of musical training and countless hours of practice and rehearsing.

The pan yards, as they are called, hold money-raising events by inviting the faithful to pay to come watch them practice.

In keeping with the same strong African traditions as Junkanoo, the pan pays homage to the drums, craftily fusing the African drums with the Indian tassa drums. Bands can number into the hundreds. The pan plays everything from Mozart to the latest Calypso songs.

On Tobago, which is where most tourists visit, the local tourist board features the pan and not the road march whine-down when they perform for tourists.

While road march whining and dancing generally knows no social or ethnic class, there is a distinct level of stratification. Many pay to play, organizing elaborate fetes for select groups, with a smorgasbord of culinary and musical treats. There is an elitism at play, whereas our Junkanoo expresses more of the spirit of Bahamian egalitarianism.

There are also the Calypso tents. By example, if you want to hear only the Mighty Sparrow sing then you pay your money and go to Sparrow’s tent. There the Calypsonians ad-lib and throw in words and phrases that would be bleeped on radio or for which the first-time visitor to Trinidad would need a local guide to interpret.

The upcoming party and music festival will likely again be a wonderful time for Bahamians but it will, unfortunately, give any visitors an entirely wrong impression of what Junkanoo is. It will truly represent neither Junkanoo nor carnival.

• frontporchguardian@gmail.com, www.bahamapundit.com.

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