Cayman CARNIVAL!

One of the things I have been looking forward to most since I arrived on Island is CARNIVAL! I missed it by just two weeks last year so have had to wait for eleven and a half months to find out what all the fuss is about. And it was SO worth it.

If I had to describe Cayman carnival in one sentence it would be: a culturally sanctioned glittery and feathered street party slash orgy that has more in common with Mardi Gras than the Christian organisers would like to admit (fewer gays, same amount of glitter). 

History of Carnival 

Carnival season is big across the whole Caribbean and apparently began as a pre-Lenten tradition (the word "carnival" is thought to mean farewell to meat – thank God that tradition died, no jerk chicken or Burger Shack for 40 days?!?) brought over by European settlers and their accompanying slaves in the 1700s. The first carnival was apparently in Trinidad and Tobago and by all accounts, their carnival remains the biggest and best (something else to add to the every-growing to do list). 

The Cayman Islands carnival is positively youthful by comparison to some as it is only 34 years old (full disclosure - I have a vested interest in maintaining that early 30s is youthful), compared to, say, the Bahamian carnival which kicked off some time in the 1800s. Each country’s carnival has its own twist based on the local culture, such as salsa dancing in Antigua, calypso in Dominica and soca in Cayman. The Cayman carnival is traditionally called “Batabano” which refers to the tracks left in the sand by sea turtles when they crawl onto the beach to nest. While there may be deep cultural reasons for this comparison, I'm pretty sure it's because you feel like a beached turtle by the end of the day and leave a trail of feathers and glitter in your wake. 

The Parade
Several months ago, when I was thousands of miles away in Hong Kong and had plenty of time in which I was positive I could procure myself a runway model-esqe body, I agreed to participate in CayMAS and spent an unexpectedly large amount of money on a VERY small bejewelled bikini and inordinate quantum of feathers. 

"Oh crap, now I have to go outside dressed like this"

Fast forward several months to mid-May and I was staring down the barrel of CayMAS, having forgotten to give up carbs several months before, with only time left to fit in one salad and one hot yoga class in the hopes of sweating off 10kg in one hit, plus a last minute spray tan to camouflage everything else. Before I knew it, I found myself wearing my teeny weeny bejewelled bikini, more feathers than a wild Caymanian chicken and a ridiculous amount of glitter last Saturday morning, surrounded by several hundred of my closest scantily clad friends.  

From midday we started to gather in town, meeting our fellow paraders. I feel like you make a special bond with people you meet for the first time in your underwear. Needless to say I have many new, very close, friends. Once the parade started, it wound its way up West Bay road to finish at Public Beach, which is at the northern end of Seven Mile Beach and was the location for the evening after party on the beach. We literally walked (and danced / skipped / gyrated / grinded / sweated) 5 to 6 miles over the course of about 6 hours. I used ab and quad muscles to dance that I don’t think I’ve ever activated before and that reminded me of that fact for days later. In true Caymanian fashion, I also ran into many people I knew along the side of the road such that there can honestly be no more secrets between us. They have seen ALL of me.

Practicing our moves beforehand - I realise I look like I'm about to lay an egg
so for the sake of spectators, I promise I kept grinding moves to a minimum

Each “band” has its own truck with a bar on board and we all got water bottles for drink refills along the way. Procuring a drink in the course of the parade turned out to be the hardest part of the entire experience (though not without its reward). As the truck ranged from being stationery, to stop-starting, to swiftly moving along, once you pushed your way through the line of people to grab on to the bars on the side of the truck, you had to keep pace with it and hand up your bottle to the guys on board without (a) stepping on the heels of the people in front of you, (b) being trampled by the people behind you, and (c) without dropping the water bottle to be run over by the ever-advancing wheels of the truck (I managed two out of three and ended up going through two water bottles). If, however, you were able to master this daring feat of athleticism and grace, you were rewarded with the strongest drink you’ve ever had in your life, containing free poured rum (someone counted and the pours lasted up to 12 seconds) and mixer. Welcome to partying, Caribbean style. 

Drama at the Carnival

This year was the first year that Cayman carnival split over two weekends. The traditional Batabano remained on the first weekend in May, while a new carnival took place a week later - CayMAS. Alas this is not because they wanted to extend the party, but rather because there was a dramatic and acrimonious split between the organisers (if you think politics is divisive where you live, you haven’t seen Cayman politics - it's ridic). 

While the traditional contingent wanted to keep the carnival as it was, the more “progressive” groups wanted to move Batabano to the second weekend in May as (a) it would no longer clash with the Bahamian carnival and could therefore draw more tourism (b) the second weekend is a long weekend so allows for more events and higher turnout and (c) something else about modernising that I forget now and didn’t care that much about at the time anyway. The result was that of the 10 or so “bands” (i.e. floats) that usually participate in Batabano, 4 or 5 of them broke off and started CayMAS. Drama, drama, drama. There was even a lone woman on the side of the road holding a sign saying "One Cayman, One Batabano". 

 

I chose to participate in CayMAS over Batabano for complex cultural reasons because my friend told me to. But HER reasoning was that the biggest and best “band” to jump with, called Swanky International, had defected to CayMAS. I'm all about being surrounded by a big crowd when I'm in my underwear....

Carnival Reflections
One of the best things about carnival is the number and variety of people participating - literally all shapes, sizes and colours. A lot of people commented to me (including the logical, left side of my own brain) before the event that I was crazy to voluntarily waltz down the street in a string bikini. I entirely agree of course, but that didn’t stop me doing it! I could always have waited until I have the perfect body – until I’m skinny enough, toned enough, tanned enough, but let's be honest, I would be wasting years of my life on the sidelines waiting to reach a goal that will likely always be just beyond my fingertips. So I went ahead and did it with the body I've got anyway and goddamn it was fun :)