The Unfettered Fete
Chapter 24
The Haitian authorities hoped, no they prayed, carnival would bring the people together. But the divisive religious dispute underway might put a damper on the festivities. The sporadic violence was becoming less sporadic and they worried about the public’s safety. For voodooists and Christians alike, carnival was a joyous event before the beginning of Lent. Everyone could let their hair down, cast off their inhibitions and step out of character for a few days each year.
It was Fat Tuesday and the weather was beautiful. The year’s carnival theme was titled: Haiti, On the Road to Change. The organizers decided to focus on environmental issues such as recycling projects, waste collection and protecting natural resources. The aim was not only to improve living conditions in the city, but to improve the image of the country. It was a tall order to fill.
The carnivals since the 2010 earthquake had been abbreviated events given the massive destruction and relief efforts. Cholera epidemics followed, so this year’s fete was to be a grand one, one like those before the devastation and sickness which had crippled Port-au-Prince for many years.
Two strong undercurrents were always part of the festivity: fierce competition among the groups of performers and even fiercer mocking of politicians and other public figures. And no one was immune to the teases and taunts since the participants had the license to do and say much as they wished, but only at this time of year. Otherwise, the lambasting, innuendo and cutting words would likely result in arrest. Public corruption was a particularly popular subject and there was no lack of candidates receiving the revelers wrath. The homes of officials were visited and treated in the same raucous manner. They were fair game under the unwritten rules of carnival. It was all good fun, but not necessarily good natured.
Floats, bands, dancers and singers all vied for attention and prominence, hoping to win contests for best at this or that. Best costume was an especially popular contest since even the poorest of the poor could participate and maybe, just maybe, win a prize and bragging rights. Everyone tried to outdo everyone else and the competition for top honors in the various categories was fierce. Sometimes they even sabotaged each others’ works and performances. The brakes on a float might be tampered with or the sound system of a band accidentally broken, with a little help from some friends.
Under a blazing sun, dance troops paraded all afternoon on the Champ de Mars in the heart of the city. At night, a crowd took over the huge public square to follow the floats. The heat at times was unbearable and many partiers sported brightly colored umbrellas for some relief. Desmond kindly placed large jugs of Kool Aid along the main parade route. The little signs affixed to them offered free drinks to the thirsty. He’d laced them with his vile potions and waited for the fun to begin. Oh, he was such a naughty boy during carnival….and other times too.
The revelers costumes came in every type and style imaginable. Faces were covered for anonymity and effect. There was always a guessing game as to who might be behind a mask. They disguised themselves as pop culture icons, superheroes, Haitian political figures, Loas and other characters of their choosing and imagination. Even Uncle Sam occasionally showed up for a cameo appearance.
***
It was all quite a show and I was enjoying myself immensely. I believed the word meant I was having a good time, but French was a difficult language.
I walked the main parade route like most others, enjoying the sights and sounds, well almost. Merengue music was blaring from loud speakers and people danced to its sensuous beats and rhythms. This was part of the battle of the bands. They’d all be winners if based on loudness alone. People couldn’t hear themselves think and maybe that was the point.
It seemed at every hundred meters or so, small ersatz tents made of sheets or whatever, shielded voodooists selling trinkets and such to the passersby. I saw tarot card readers who probably doubled as spell casters. I stopped at one place and looked over the merchandise. Several jars of herbs, I guessed, along with other indescribable ingredients, littered the ground. But what caught my eye were the dolls, the voodoo variety the shopkeeper kept in her lap. I was drawn to them, but not sure why. Maybe I’d been in Haiti too long and some of this crap was rubbing off on me. Regardless, I bought a male doll and spread its legs to be certain. Yep, he was a male all right with a big set, just like his new owner. And I was pleased with my purchase. It was my first souvenir and probably the last. It was a simple remembrance of my trip, but maybe a little bit more.
Tonight was the last of carnival and its biggest celebration. Tomorrow would start Lent and the fasting, piety and penance which went along with it. I encountered several drunks, both women and men, puking their guts in the street. It was gross! And I turned away and watched my step as did others in the crowd. Then I saw a small girl hurling as well. Perhaps food poisoning, I thought. While the sights and smells of the food were enticing, I abstained, remembering the cholera outbreak a few years ago. No reason to take a chance with the delicacies since I’d be going home soon. I was looking forward to a good, ole McDonald’s double cheeseburger. However, if I screwed up at the 11th hour, I’d likely be the one serving them. “Ma’am, would you like some fries with your burger?” It would be my employer of second-to-last resort.
***
Desmond was pleased with his handiwork, no he was elated! He’d caused more grief and illness than ever before, a piece de resistance, he thought in his best French. But he awaited the final death toll that would be the icing on his nefarious cake. While things went well, he believed he could cause more mischief and mayhem if he gave the matter more thought. Next year would be another opportunity to cook-up something more agonizing and devious. Desmond had an inquiring mind and insatiable appetite for death, as long as it was someone else. That didn’t mean he was a mean spirited person. Oh no, not at all. He was merely an underappreciated sociopath with a homicidal bent!
But what goes around was coming around in his case.