Caribbean Compass Yachting Magazine October 2017

— Continued from previous page
They wore dresses of bronze-coloured material decorated with bands of blue, yellow
and lilac. Bands of artificial cream and red flowers encircled their long black
hair, piled at the back of their heads. Thick bands of silvery bracelets stretched
halfway from wrist to elbow, long silver earrings dangled like icicles from their ears,
their foreheads were covered with large teardrop-shaped medallions suspended from
slim silver chains that disappeared into their hair. Their costumes glittered as they
displays of lights that draw crowds of Trinidadians every year. Neon lights in every
colour arched across the streets, some flashing gaily. Paper lanterns adorned with
pictures of the goddess Lakshmi and the message “Happy Diwali” dangled overhead.
In one street, intricate patterns had been drawn on the road surface using coloured
chalk. One wished passers-by “Shubh Divali” (“Happy Diwali”). Some houses were
festooned in coloured lights, others lit only by the light from an open doorway and
the flickering flames of tiny clay oil lamps arranged in rows on front drives.
The main street was thronged with people, many of them wearing traditional
Indian clothes. Men and young boys were dressed in long silk tunics decorated with
glittering gold braiding that sparkled in the lights. Women and girls wore dresses and
leggings in rich jewel colours — ruby, sapphire, emerald — with thick bands of gold
brocade at the hems. Cars crawled by nose-to-tail; the high-pitched whine of Indian
made slow, graceful movements in unison: turning circles, pausing with arms outstretched
or palms held upwards at shoulder height, even balancing on one leg and
stretching the other behind them like slow-motion ice dancers. As they danced to
music provided by a rather crackly CD, behind them an elderly lady dressed in a
shin-length saffron yellow tunic and matching leggings, her head covered with a
piece of yellow chiffon, moved slowly between the statues, reverently placing offerings
in front of each one.
Next came a display of Tasa drumming by the Tri-Star trio. One man played a large
African-type drum with the palm of his hand, a second used drumsticks on a snare
drum and a young man played a pair of cymbals. As it went on the drumming grew
faster and louder until it reached a deafening crescendo. Tasa drummers perform at
many Indian ceremonies such as festivals and weddings.
After the cultural display, a meal was served in a room next door to the temple.
We ate off banana leaves (to save washing up, Jesse joked). Everything was vegetarian:
curried channa (chick peas), deliciously sweet slices of mango in a brown sauce,
a vegetable akin to breadfruit, and orange pumpkin. We scooped up the food using
pieces of roti skin, a kind of papery dough, using our hands as cutlery. As this was
a religious festival there was no alcohol to drink, just water or fizzy pop. Dessert was
a small bag of something similar to a sweet suet pudding; Kevin wasn’t impressed!
By now it was dark outside, and we set off to wander through the streets to see the
Above: Statues in the temple where we learned about the meaning of Diwali
Left: Temple dancers in Trinidad celebrating the Hindu Festival of Light
singing blasting from some of them at deafening volume, accompanied by bass so
loud our ribcages rattled as they passed. Outside some houses and shops small
stalls had been set up offering food, while young men roamed between the cars carrying
huge bunches of balloons and mountains of candy floss.
Every so often a loud bang made us jump; someone had set off a ‘bamboo banger’,
a firecracker made from a short length of bamboo filled with kerosene. Stanley, our
driver, told us on the way home that you light the kerosene and then — rather alarmingly
— have to blow into a small hole in the bamboo. He said he had burned all
down one side of his face doing that as a child, but it hadn’t put him off — it was
just something that you did back then.
Gratefully, we escaped into the side streets, where things were generally much
quieter. Families gathered outside their houses to share food and companionship.
At one, a small boy waved a sparkler, entranced by the patterns of light it
made, while his sister carefully carried a tray of oil lamps to her father, her face
a study in concentration. In front of many of the houses people were still unhurriedly
placing clay lamps on drives and the top of walls, bringing a peaceful,
timeless air to the scene. One lady rocked contentedly in a swing seat, watching
the grid of tiny flames at her feet. We had been told that some householders
might offer us sweets, so I in particular was disappointed when my sweet tooth
wasn’t pandered to!
By now our feet were aching from so much walking, so we made our way back to
the temple and climbed gratefully out of the warm, sticky night air into the airconditioned
comfort of Stanley’s minibus. It took quite some time to make our way
out of Felicity, as by now every road in and out was jam-packed with cars. Someone
commented that it would all be over by the time some people reached the centre, but
Stanley said the lights would most likely be on until around 2:00AM. After that they
would be extinguished — until Diwali next year.
This year, Diwali will be celebrated on October 19th.
OCTOBER 2017 CARIBBEAN COMPASS PAGE 31