March | 2012 | existabovethenoise

Anyone who knows me well knows that I missed the year of high school in which all my classmates learned about American history. That said, most of what I have learned has been self taught and, frankly, many lessons I simply haven’t learned. So, usually I know a bit about the outrage of human atrocities committed by public figures because I have been known to read socialist academic journalists and/or my friends’ facebook statuses – on occasion. But, I don’t usually own opinions in the same way as if I had heard about these events in the height of my pubescent years of awakening to a world that’s more bitter than sweet. Needless to say, this profession I’ve chosen often seats me close to more recent historical figures for whom I’m supposed to show respect, if not admiration, and about whom I’m supposed to know the basic of details, if not full biographies.

So, last week it was none other than Dr. Henry Kissinger. Imagine the pinch I found myself in as folks buzzed with interest and/or indignation. My general indifference was persistent – as it is with the majority of public personalities, save a few exceptions. There was Colin Powell – whose hand I giddily shook and vowed never to wash my hand again (until I went into the NYC subway after and figured the memory would have to suffice). And there was Abdias do Nascimento, but he’s Brazilian so I’m not sure if he counts. And if Amilcar Cabral were to come back to life I would hold a ‘Amilcar for UN Secretary General’ campaign benefit concert and be the President of his fan club. But, you see where I’m going here… Kissinger didn’t really tip my scales. After his talk, though, I found myself in a slight haze. General “wow, is this my life?!” and “wtf just happened?” thoughts came to mind. As it’s been a few days and the dust has settled, these are the 5 take aways from my audience with Herr Kissinger.

5 – We all put our pants on one leg at a time: Kissinger is a larger than life figure, but when I saw this aging, arguably disheveled, hearing aid assisted gentleman, he looked like somebody’s grandpa – which I’m sure he is. No matter what job we do, or where we sit in the world, we’re subject to the human condition. We’re born, we get old, we expire. No matter how many books you’ve written, or lives you’ve shaken – some things in life are just equalizing.

4- We are our own mystique: Most people say that confidence is sexy. And some find confidence to be self fulfilling. In the end, what we think of ourselves – our entitlement, our insecurities, our goals are never played as close to our chests as we think. In the end, the big Kiss projected an “unfuckwitable” air that I’m sure comes from years of truly believing that isht. Apparently, the earlier you start hardening your chin the sooner people will stop chipping at it. Go figure.

3- When I’m past retirement age, please just give me a microphone: So I don’t have much to say about the substance of the talk, because I couldn’t hear most of it. I’m sure the traffic outside didn’t help, but when I’m at the age of receiving a pension – please, dear God, don’t give me the task of projecting my voice. That’s just cruel and unusual punishment. Show some respect young bucks and get me a mic, so I can drop it after I’m done talking.

2- People who do amazing things rarely have anything interesting to say about it afterward: I’ve met lots of people who I admire and most of the time they answer questions in the most annoying way possible. You want to hear that they came up with the theory of relativity through some awesome burst of genius that was induced by Dr. Pepper and Jaegermeister shots, after a sunshine ray hit a window pane in a Guyanese strip club at just the right angle. You want to hear some inside scoop on how things came to pass. But, usually they answer questions with questions like, “Well, could YOU have predicted it?” “Well, what do you think happened?” And Kissinger was no exception. Surely some of it is a bout of humility, and the rest is that somethings just come to you. Some people say that art is born, it simply channels through you. Apparently, art, science and politics have something in common – if you listen to their creators tell it.

1- Could someone have done a better job, yes. Could I? No: Alright, I didn’t get the exact quote, but when Kissinger was asked one of those God awful questions about whether or not he would have done something different in retrospect, he said that one day he’d come up with a good answer. In the end, he took stock of who he was – his perspectives, training, personality, POV and said well I did the best job I could do. Emphasis on the ‘I.’ It’s not to say that someone else could not have done a better job, but I certainly could not have. I respect that. In positions of extreme power, competing interests, opposing personalities and lives at stake, decisions must be made. These decisions are not divorced from the limitations of their maker – but when it’s all said and done, we have to be who we are in taking the actions we take. Sometimes, asking for better judgement calls means asking for someone else to make the judgement altogether. So long as you got the microphone, you have to speak your piece. The standing ovation may be meant for another character. That doesn’t change your mission.

Where do I begin? For those who are not familiar with Trinidad and Tobago’s Carnival, the two days prior to Ash Wednesday people from all over the world come together to celebrate life in every sense of the word. Starting from the 18^th century, the French would have elaborate masquerade balls in Trinidad. Because the slaves were banned from such festivities, slaves would host their own mini-carnivals in their backyards. With the emancipation of slavery, these celebrations moved to the streets and since that time Trinidad Carnival is highly regarded as “The Greatest Show on Earth.” Carnival season begins from Christmas onwards, with many cultural events leading up to the street parade where you “play mas” on Carnival Monday and Tuesday, including j’ouvert. J’ouvert kicks off carnival Monday with crowds of people dancing covered in mud, oil and paint in the streets in remembrance of the emancipation of slavery. The english translation of j’ouvert is I open and the tradition of oil, paint and mud stems from the slaves not wanting to be recognized in such activity by former slave masters. So, with the history out of the way, now let me tell you what really goes down (or at least what went down Feb 20-21 2012).

I am obliged to say that this was my very first Trinidadian Carnival experience. Though I have participated in other carnivals, including Toronto’s Caribana, Montreal’s Carifiesta, Notting Hill in London, Labour Day parade in New York and DC Carnival, there was absolutely, positively nothing like THIS carnival experience. With only 2 hrs of sleep on Sunday morning, I was ready to jump up for d’original breakfast fete. It was literally the crack of dawn and yes, where I was staying, roosters where actually crowing. By 6am there was a sea of brown, yellow, white, black people eating, limin’ (chillin), whinin’ and drinking like fish in the ocean of fete. There was no bacon, eggs, pancakes or coffee, but rather there was jerk chicken, roti, doubles, and liquor. I never saw anything like it. People of all ages, sizes, from all over the world were gyrating from left to right to soca and chutney music in sweet, sweet T&T. With women rollin’ their bumpers, tipsy, teasin’ and pleasin’ all the men responding and often “rising” to the challenge. Sun beating down, soaking wet with sweat and everyone’s “head nice.” And then when you felt like the whining was done, there was more soca to come and the fetin’ went on and on. It’s now midday and time to cool down by either heading to the beach or taking a quick nap before the “Lara fete.” Sunday night, again scores of people were looking grown and sexy (in sandals, of course) on the grounds of the infamous cricketer, Brian Lara. Tickets are always hard to come by, but I was ready to dance the night away until j’ouvert morning.

Thousands descended on the streets of Port of Spain to play with their respective J’ouvert bands. The alcohol was flowing, flags and rags were in the air with everyone getting on bad, covered in a mixture of oil, mud, and paint placed on their entire body by strangers in the early morning breeze. No time to be tired after 6 hrs of j’ouvert – time to get in costume to play mas in your band of choice or spectate and enjoy the show cause “It’s Carnival.” The energy was palpable as persons playin’ mas cross de stage in their elaborately designed, yet revealing, costumes – dancing as if their lives depended on it. You could feel the beat of the drums from head to toe and there was a certain exhilaration in saying hi and bye to complete strangers with a common goal of having fun “chippin down de road” during the bacchanal. People say it’s a once in a lifetime experience, but I say it’s an annual one. There is no question where I will be next February. Like any good vacation, it is not cheap by any stretch of the imagination. Mas costumes start at $500 USD and inclusive fetes average between $100-200. Nonetheless, there are truly no words or pictures that can truly capture the spirit of Trinidad Carnival. So, I encourage you all to see it for yourself.

This month’s guest blogger is Charlisa Gibson. Bahamian by birth and well traveled by design, Charlie has lived in the US, the UK, Canada and the Caribbean. When she’s not wukkin up, she’s making the rounds – doing her medical residency in Washington, DC. She is also Nafeesah’s birthday twin, which clearly indicates that she is some kinda woman… watch out now!