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Left:
Beauty and the beast – revellers
in Martinique don masks that are
both macabre and marvellous
MARTINIQUE
USP: CARNIVAL TAKEN TO THE NEXT LEVEL!
It is barely January when the Carnival
buzz starts in Martinique, building in
momentum over the course of several
wild weeks, with the island’s west coast
capital, Fort-de-France, the centre of
the celebrations. The explosion of
excitement requires some stamina to
maintain. Once partying claims priority,
it seems impossible to imagine a time
when the streets weren’t filled with
dancers and marching bands (groupes
à pied). A blasting horn urges everyone
out by the bayside en masse‚ dressed
in neon wigs, feather boas, fishnet
capes, bright ballerina tutus and jewelencrusted
G-strings, transforming the
street into a kaleidoscopic river of
madcap movement.
Each year’s incarnation of Vaval‚ the
enormous effigy that is Martinique’s
t a closely guarded
ning event (usually
Epiphany). This
t formed of
papier-mâché
might take any
form – everything
is fair game for
omic effect, from
ald Trump to
ministers or local
n recent years Vaval
xaggerated Viking
t of the Gauls.
s, he is booed like
the highways, but now these crazycoloured
Caribbean jalopies fill the
streets, revving loudly.
At Carnival time, the Martinican
French side is amplified. Placards
proffer a dismissive Gallic shrug to
the European Union, Coco Chanel
and the merest mention of frogs legs,
yet the populace remain, in many
respects, more French than the French.
For instance, champagne consumption
is higher here than in any mainland
department. Naughty lyrics ridicule
the French hierarchy, so expect lots of
scandalous songs about big noses and
snobbery. Costumes poke fun, too,
mimicking bouffant-haired Parisian
ladies right down to their poodles.
Every citizen, every age, in every
community celebrates in their own
way: from those who gently sway and
shuffle, to flame-throwing calypso
dancers on stilts. Towers of monster
speakers blast throbbing basslines into
Fort-de-France’s backstreets. Musicality
and rhythm is endemic here – nobody
misses a single beat.
On the final day, Martinicans flit and
flutter like moths to a lantern as the
music ramps up and the dancing gains
even more fervour. Rhythms overlap
in a heady mishmash of zouk, biguine,
samba and reggae and, while singing
in French under tricolour flags, crowds
unify in a surge of national identity.
“THERE’S A MAGIC
ABOUT CARNIVAL
IN MARTINIQUE THAT IS
TOTALLY BEWITCHING, YOU
FEEL IT FROM THE MOMENT THE
FIRST CHORD PLAYS. THE MAGIC
NEVER ENDS, EVEN AFTER VAVAL
IS CREMATED – IT STAYS WITH
YOU ALL YEAR UNTIL THE
PARTY STARTS AGAIN.”
PASSI GERAULT,
MARTINICAN GUIDE
Carnival is a most magnificent
ode to the joy of living. Every
evening, candlelit prayers are recited
in thanks. During these moments
of quiet reflection, you can still
feel the drum beat in your bones
as choreographed limbs continue
dancing non-stop in an effervescent
multi-mile loop.
Before long, time is up for Vaval.
Once funeral rites are given, a very
public cremation is held on Ash
Wednesday, as penance for the
Carnival’s wild behaviours. Faux
tears of mourning accompany the
Martinican sunset as the giant Vaval
effigy turns to dust – and Carnival
draws to a close. Street cleaners
gather up rum bottles and feathers,
and persuade lingering revellers
to head home to bed. No need to
feel too bad for Vaval, though: he’ll
emerge in another guise next year.
ly garish are the
painted cars
as bradjacks)
d especially for
. Typically, French
nd Citroëns clog
TIP Join the first parade at daybreak – pyjamas are de rigueur. Pack something
black or white for Vaval’s funeral on Ash Wednesday.
IT’S UNIQUE Instead of steel drums, Martinicans play a kind of deconstructed
drum set, with chachas (sand-filled bamboo shakers) to make a ‘shooooka
shooooka shooooka’ sound.
January - February 2020 | www.liat.com
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