Lindsay's First Kanaval

Imagine a typical street-party.

Along the sides of your imagined street, add in elaborately decorated 10-foot tall stands (I'm guessing on the height here), one right after the other, turning the corner after one block and then another, creating a U-shape.

In front of the stands, place vendor after vendor selling hot dogs, fried plantains, bbq chicken, french fries, water, soda, alcohol, energy drinks, and anything else that can be consumed from cans, bottles, and brown paper bags.

For the entertainment, picture marching bands whose only instruments are home-made and who huddle together, rather than marching in formation; rows of costumed dancers; semi-trucks towing the equivalent of small buildings (or big buildings, depending on your perspective) on top of which Haiti's most popular bands blare their specially-written Karnaval songs with dozens of people dancing, lights flashing, and confetti shooting into the air; elaborately decorated floats; adolescents in paper-mache bird costumes running in and out of the crowds; and the occasional fireworks display.

And finally, to whatever number of spectators you had imagined at this street-party, add a few thousand, and then a few thousand more, all dancing, drinking, singing, shoving, and sweating. (Keep adding people to your imagined crowd till those in it have no choice but to bob up and down and shift forward in unison, till the fear of falling is completely gone because bodies are pressed so tightly against one another that falling literally is not an option.)

And now you know how I spent the past 3 days.

-L