Chatting with a friend the other night, we both acknowledged that Carnival 2021 will be a got damn disaster.
Not in a bad way though.
Carnival junkies and recovering addicts like myself have been deprived for far too long of the opportunity to gallivant in the road and run from fete to fete wearing next to nothing in the sweet Caribbean sun. So when a vaccine is found (or for you massive Connie the Conspiracy Theorists out there, you are allowed out under some other provision) and them flood gates open on the first one or two carnivals this is the scene we anticipate:
Every hotel room will be sold out and we are going back to the late 90’s early 00’s when adults in first job where sharing hotel rooms in Miami, sometimes 6 in a room, sleeping on the floor (God knows what types of bodily fluids could be found using a blue light in those rooms we braved).
Fete tickets will go back to Black Market madness and we will be okay paying premiums. So there will be a re-emergence of the fete-elite smiling smuggly like this , at those without connections.
Me, I will be amongst the fete elite. I haven’t been feting since 15 years old to be standing on the pavement.
People are going to be EXTRA. Extra Caribbean with people being Super Trini, Super Bajan, Super Vincy, Super Nevisian (is that the name of people from Nevis? I once knew a girl who pretended to be from Nevis but that is another long asssssssssssss story for another day, when I have far more followers who will entertain the foolishness I used to do when I was tacky and young), Super <whatever their great-great-great-great-great-great grand parent’s cousin thrice removed was on their father’s dry cleaner’s neighbour’s side was>. People are going to be extra bright and people are going to be extra loud. So people who are actually from the Caribbean, don’t be annoyed, them been locked in the house for a year and need to release some of that pretend Caribbean they have been hiding for 12 months, give them a bligh in the spirit of the diaspora, okay? (that was kind of mean wasn’t it? I am working on being kinder. next blog, next blog).
Next, thing I envision is people robbing the local zoos and riding in on horses, lions, tigers, all kinda ting. You know we have been bingeing on Tiger King, watching WAP trying to get some moves so we are trying to make one grand entrance into the people’s day fete. I am considering hiring 6 chocolate muscle men to carry me like I am Cleopatra to carry me into a breakfast fete.
I also suspect at last ten casualties per fete from alcohol poisoning. Long time we have not been to an all inclusive so it will be like Moses leading the people from desert into an oasis of food and liquor. The gluttony will be on level 10. No one will want to stand on line, so the bartenders will be pressed to provide plenty drink. Bartenders, please practice the pouring.
Finally, and most importantly, what I hope is that we return with an abundance of love. I was guilty for a number of years in taking Carnival in all of its glory for granted. I remember some of my first carnivals in my late teens and early 20’s and being in awe that I could go to Barbados and Trinidad and drink freely in the streets, dancing and listening to my favourite music while being in the most beautiful costumes. Somewhere along the way, I became distracted by the wait during costume collection, the attitudes of people on the road, the quality of the music selection, the people storming the band. But look at me now, sitting in the bed wishing someone would mash my corn, rain would piss down on my feathers, my panty would turn into a thong. Anything other than reports of death, redundancies, fighting in shops, and cancelled flights to Carnival.