outside the lines

This phrase in the Bible always puzzled me. Why would you need to separate sheep from goats? How could they possibly get mixed up in the first place? You see, growing up I didn’t have much first hand experience with sheep. I’d seen goats, sure, many people in Nassau kept goats, even to this day, there’s a man who walks his goats on Nassau Street in the early mornings. But my only impressions of sheep were from text books and story books in school (I didn’t travel to the Southern Islands much as a youth). A goat mixed in with flock of those sheep you see in the books would stick out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t until I visited Exuma when I was much older that I realized how similar the two really are.

We were riding our scooters, South towards Rolletown, when turning a corner the road was blocked by what looked like a herd of goat crossing the road. The only thing that was unusual was that they seemed slightly lighter in colour and goats don’t really travel in herds naturally, but there was no sign of a herdsman around. When we got closer I realised that the “goats” were in fact sheep (actually I figured it out pretty soon because of the racket they were making – no mistaking that sheep sound). For all intents and purposes, the main way to tell the difference (in Bahamian parlance) is that the goat is the one with the “good” hair.

What does this have to do with Junkanoo? In the old days, we used to refer to the goombay drum, the junkanoo drum, as a “goatskin drum”. This was not entirely accurate because a substantial portion of the drum heads were made from sheepskin. I understand that these days goatskins are imported – I used to wonder how the local livestock population could support the junkanoo demand.

Anyway, old wood drums were made from rum or salt pork barrels. When the skins were stretched over the head of the drum, only the skin that was to be played was shaved. All the hair was left on the overlap. This added a special character to the drum. In those days also they must not have left the skins in lime for so long, because it was not uncommon four goatskin drums to show the dark line that marks the goat’s spine. The drum would be made so the line traversed the centre of the drum head. The pattern was continued in the goat hair on the skin overlapping the edge of the drum. Adrian reminded me also that though rare, you also could find goatskin drums with black skins. Each drum was unique, a piece of craftsmanship in many ways, and as such was treated with a good deal more respect and reverence than the drums today. The drum was an instrument, the musician’s partner, cherished and loved just as is any musical instrument in the hands of the musician. Drums would last for years and years and were often passed down from father to son. Moreover, they were often beautifully painted with stripes following the wood slats that made up the barrel.

Anyway, we always used to argue over which gave the better sound, sheep or goat. The discussion would go back and forth, each person’s position largely set by the type of skin he (or occasionally she) had more experience with. Everyone had their own opinion. Sheep had a “higher” sound (meaning the tone was higher), but did not hold the heat as long, or was that goat? I can’t remember to tell the truth. Goat skins were thicker, thinner; required more maintenance, less maintenance, and on and on.

In truth, I don’t know how different the skins are intrinsically. I think the sound of the drum, and each drum definitely had its own distinct sound, was more determined by the drummaker and the characteristics of the particular sheep or goat skin. I do know that if it’s one thing I miss in junkanoo is the old salt pork barrel drums. They were heavy and unwieldy, but they had a unique look and sound, the sound of junkanoo, that has sadly passed into history.

I remember the first time I saw a sterno in someone’s drum on Bay. It was one of those simple but beautiful solutions to an age-old problem: how to keep your drum warm at least all the way down Bay. By then, everyone had switched from wood drums to metal drums (this was before the advent of Tom Toms of course). Now metal drums would heat up more quickly, but they also came down more quickly. Even if you heat up by the old straw market, you’d be lucky if your drum was still taut by The Nassau Shop (what is now John Bull).

So when I saw the drum with a sterno rack – brilliant! Portable fire! Adrian and I went into the workshop to modify our drums. Back then this was new technology – the sterno racks we saw were custom welded jobs, there was no standard way to do this. Adrian’s solution was quite ingenious it was made from thick wires that could be tilted to point the flame closer too or further away from the drum head, depending on how much heat you needed. I just cut up big tin cans till I found one that fit – a coffee can did the trick – then screwed it on in side the keg. Of course being “scrap”, we didn’t have a group marshall to carry our extra sternos for us. We stored them in a white tube sock and tied it to our belts. We really had quite the system going.

This whole sterno thing was a half baked idea from the start. I mean think about it: an open flame and crepe paper costumes? It was a disaster waiting to happen. And happen it did.

It’s bad enough to have an open flame around all that paper. Sternos are most dangerous when when you first open the can. You see the sterno is like a sponge that is soaked in alcohol or some other flammable material. The problem is they alway fill the cans too high, so there’s always extra liquid sloshing around when you first open it. Once you light it, if any liquid spills out, that’s fire everywhere. Frankly I’m surprised there weren’t more accidents.

Anyway, this time it was Adrian, Mark, Shane, Margot, Nico and I. Back in those days, not many women rushed, and so those who did, well you know the guys were going to try check them. I knew Margot could handle herself though. Anyway, we had just finished heating up and Adrian and I had lit new sternos in our drums. I noticed this guy who had been rushing with us was really trying with Margot. Like I said, Margot can handle herself. She knows how to let a guy down without making him feel bad, but at the same time letting him know nothing’s happening. Anyway, I see this guy talkin, talkin… I remember seeing burning drops on the ground for a split second then WHOOSH! His pants leg was on fire. I can see it in my mind, it was so fast. See when you rush scrap you have that long fringe that catches quick and burns even faster. The funniest thing, though was the guy was not at all fazed by this. Acting like everything was normal, he kept his rap going while slapping the fire out with his hand. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. All the fringe on his left pant leg was burnt away. Miraculously he did not get burned – Elmers White Glue is an excellent flame retardant we discovered that day – the only thing injured was the poor guy’s pride. But I got to give him full marks for style, he hardly missed a beat in the whole episode.

These days any open flame is outlawed on the parade so you don’t see sternos in drums anymore. I guess someone finally figured out fire and crepe paper don’t mix. Hmmm, how come they could let off all those firecrackers, though? That’s another story…

Junkanoo Themes are a big thing these days. For last year’s parade, a special ceremony was held where group representatives announced their themes and read the synopsis, a “short” description of the theme. Well, I wasn’t there, but looking at the official record of group entries, some of these synopses were three and four pages long!

Not like back in the old days when the theme was three words or less: “Arabian Nights”, “Egypt”, “Bahamian flowers”, and was taken from world geography or Bahamian nature. Nowadays, the theme alone is a few phrases long – “World Religions: Icons, symbols and practices of the major religions around the globe: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, and Buddhism.”

I especially like to see the contrast between the Boxing Day and New Year’s Day themes. The New Year’s theme always has to be more flexible. You see, on New Year’s the theme has to accommodate those costumes that are being recycled from Boxing Day. Of course everyone says they build all their costumes fresh for New Years, but … The funniest Boxing Day/New Year’s Day pairing was from the year Nelson Mandela was freed. On Boxing Day, the PIGS came with “Let my people go: free Mandela, free South Africa, free the world”. On New Years the came with “Law and Order: we done let everyone go Boxing Day, now we got to lock them back up!”

Anyway, what I really wanted to say that some themes suit some groups better than others. I mean when a particular group comes with a particular theme, watch out – you know they comin tough! Like the Valley, they like Indians (Indigenous North Americans that is). Whenever the Valley brings something from the wild west, they are going to be sharp. Traditionally, the Saxons used to like Egypt – but I remember One Family brought Egypt one year, so I guess the Egypt crew must have come over in the split. Arabia and China were popular in the old days too, but you don’t see them much these days. Now, everyone likes the Bible – but you can’t just bring the Bible anytime, that’s like your trump card. You got to save that till when you need it most, when you really have to do something special. Like the Saxons did a couple of years back after taking fourth the previous year. And now these days when you bring the Bible, to really lick the competition with the wrath of God, you bring it on Boxing Day and New Year’s: Boxing Day might be “Exodus” (that’s a particularly good one, because then you could throw some Egypt in there too), then New Year’s could be “Stepping to the Promised Land” (for that, you have the golden calf, Moses, the Ten Commandments, the Ark of the Covenant, Joshua, etc). You just have to plan the thing right.

Since independence, Bahamian themes have been popular: flora and fauna; under the sea; national heroes; tourism (this one always puzzled me, as it doesn’t really lend itself to nice complex costumes. Nevertheless, I can remember countless PI bridges, coral worlds, straw markets – more than one in the same parade, even); money.

Every now and then a group will excecute a theme that is groundbreaking. I can remember in the eighties, someone brought a presentation on Law and Order. It was the “free” dancers that made an impression on me. They had defense force officers crawling along the ground with their weapons as real officers would do in basic training; they had police officers chasing down crooks and locking them up; they had supreme court judges and magistrates issuing rulings. This was the first time I can remember that a group went to such lengths to dramatize the theme.

Then you had the Valley “Wild, Wild West” in the nineties – not a new theme but groundbreaking nonetheless. The presentation was outstanding: the free dancers were dressed as cowboys, but instead of junkanoo skirts they had a 3D horse attached to their waist, so it looked like they were riding. The real innovation was musical. Prior to this parade, groups chose songs that went well with the junkanoo beat: recent soca and Bahamian popular songs, upbeat gospel songs. But when the Valley hit Rawson Square and started to lick off “Buffalo Soldier” the parade was over. You see, before this, groups looked for popular songs that fit the beat and hope that the song was relevant to the theme. This was the first time that a group took a song that was thematically relevant, but not really suited to the junkanoo beat and adapted it to Junkanoo.

Still my favorite presentation of all time (I might be biased because I belong to One Family) was “Splendors of the Deep”. I’m still not sure whose brainchild this one was or whether it was a collaboration, but I still remember that as a high-water mark of costume design. All the costumes for that parade were 3D, the conch shells for the drummers, the crawfish for the ‘bellers, the lead pieces – I remember the reef costume, there was no real back nor front to it, things were going happening all round the costume. What stands out most was the Lion Fish – that was a frame dancer costume (you don’t see frame dancers as much these days). The lion fish, like all the costumes was a 3D replica of the real thing. All the arms and fins were moving and brilliantly colored. The big costumes had minimal use of decoration, just glitter to highlight the workmanship. Everything was 3D and everything was moving. My only regret is that because I was actually rushing in that parade I never got to see the full presentation live. Watching it on TV later, I was speechless. Of course these are only my memories, coloured as they are with by own peculiar bias. I would love to hear from you about your favorite themes.

To most people the Westerners are a “scrap group”. We’ve always called ourselves “Old Time Junkanoo”. I’m not going to quibble about names. More and more the Big groups, and the general public for that matter, tend to dismiss “scrap” as irrelevant to the modern parade. Thank goodness for the PIGS and STING, who have managed to buck the tide to keep the scrap tradition alive. There is always the undercurrent among the big groups that scrap groups don’t belong on the same parade – there have even been suggestions that there be separate parades. Scraps aren’t even allowed on the parade until quite late in the morning.

Don’t get me wrong – I’m not anti organized, big group junkanoo. I am a proud member of one of the major front-line A groups.

And I don’t want to turn this into an exposition on the virtues of scrap or into a debate over who are the real tradition bearers or a bashing of big group junkanoo; I’ll address the scrap/organized junkanoo debate elsewhere.

I guess what I resent most is that when we debate and argue about what is more important to junkanoo, the history or the future, because that’s what the debate is really about, we are putting the cart before the horse. The question shouldn’t be “How important is scrap to junkanoo” but rather “How important is junkanoo to scrap”.

What I’m getting at is you can’t assume that just because you spend ten months preparing costumes, music, dance and performance for the parade, rushing is more important to you than if you spend ten minutes throwing together a scrap costume.

The feeling is the same both ways. Scrap or big group, no matter what the cost, you’ve got to make it to Bay. I’ll tell you a story.

I always thought the funniest, weirdest thing to see was a drummer rushing down Bay beating a burst drum. You don’t see it that much these days with all the Tom Toms and what-not, but in days gone by you’d be sure to see several burst drums being played in scrap and in the big groups. I could never figure it out – especially being a drummer myself – why would you continue to rush when your whole purpose for rushing – making music – was over?

I didn’t get it.

Until one New Years parade.

We were all over at Sue Moss’ house on Augusta St getting ready for the parade. That was where we used to start out from. This was much later on – I was probably in my early twenties by then. The Westerners group had been in decline for many years. In fact by then, Uncle Johnny and Sue were the only original members. We were still hanging on though because Mark, Adrian and I had recruited a couple of our friends and family members to join us. I remember that year, we had a pretty strong Bethel contingent, Timothy, Margot, I think Nico was there that year too. In the grand scheme of things, that our family (including my father) got so into Junkanoo is quite remarkable really, especially knowing how strict the Gospel Hall was in the old days. Now though the group was small – seven or eight or so, we would manage to hook up with other friends once we got to Bay. I don’t know how we managed it, there would never be any firm plans. You’d just be rushing and look over and you’d be surprised to see this one or the next one. I remember for a stretch there every year we used to hook up with Minky Isaacs and his crew. I remember him particularly because every year, no matter how cold, he would rush in shirt with cut-off sleeves, shorts and sandals. Or we would just hook up with one of the bigger scrap groups, or with the PIGS, or with one of the semi-organized groups, who would recruit Adrian and I when they needed drummers. Those were years when we went out alone. It was always fun rushing with Chippie – he was always somewhat of a celebrity in the parade. You could alway see him because those feathers would stick up above the crowd.

Anyway, the story. A real junkanoo has to make it to Bay. It’s an all consuming desire. That year, for some reason, we had missed Christmas. So there we were, heating up the drums on a small fire near Sue’s. I was tuned up and ready to go. To tuned up as it turns out – I wasn’t paying attention and when I looked at my drum the skin was flapping in the wind. I didn’t even hear when it burst! If you’ve not been in that position, it’s the same kind of feeling as being at the altar and realizing that you don’t have the ring, or getting to the airline counter and realizing that you don’t have your ticket or passport. That sick feeling of “oh no, no, no! this thing that I’ve waited for so long, I’ve thrown it away through carelessness.” I mean, good grief, to wait a full year for the next junkanoo? I was despondent, inconsolable.

But only for a moment. There was nothing for it – I had to figure out how to get to Bay. I couldn’t just go to Bay with nothing – I was musician! That was what rushing was all about for me. I had to find an instrument – a drum. I think someone offered me a cowbell – I couldn’t take it (I had not so fond memories of my youth when Aunty Sonja and Mummy would make two of us share cowbells – each person with one cowbell. Back then I couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t just let each of us have our own pair. Of course the cowbells were tied together with a long string, having each child hold one cowbell meant that we would never get separated!).

Than I remembered, I had brought an extra drum along because one of our friends had asked to borrow it. Problem was, it was an old time wooden drum, made from a cut off salt pork barrel. The thing was heavy! Whoever it was who was to borrow it said no thanks! and taken a whistle or a pair of cowbells from Sue.

So faced with waiting a year and totin’ the wood drum, it was a no-brainer. Of course heating up those wood drums take an age – I couldn’t ask the others to wait, they were ready to go. They went ahead, Margot stayed and waited for me. I can remember how grateful I was. I don’t think she realized how much it meant to me that she waited. For her it wasn’t a big deal to wait fifteen minutes. I didn’t know how it was going to turn out. Metal drums are much easier to get a good sound out. You really had to play wood drums, not just beat them. And the thing was really heavy. Anyway when the drum was warm, I stuck a cigar in my mouth a la Chippie and we set off. That was one of the best rushes I’ve had. That parade, beating that old wood drum, I really learned how to play drums. I don’t remember whether we hooked up with anyone we knew, probably did – we always did.

The thing is, for a junkanoo, whatever the stripe, the need to be on Bay is all consuming. In this we are united. Now when I see someone beating a burst of flat drum with the same passion as it were just off the fire, I understand a little better.

In the end, junkanoo’s not about costumes, it’s not about dancing, it’s not about the music even. When it comes down to it, junkanoo is about making it to Bay.

I’m not sure whether my earliest junkanoo memories are of watching junkanoo or actually rushing. I know I can remember my grandmother walking my Nico and I down to Bay St even before they changed the route to go on Bay and Shirley and squeezing us through the crowd so that the three of us would be right against the police barriers. At the time, it didn’t strike me as unusual that we were always able to get a space right up front, no matter how crowded it was. Somehow, Grammy Winnie would get us through. Looking back, it is even more remarkable when you think that she was a small woman really, not imposing in size at all. Sometimes, Uncle Aubrey would come with us also, but then that was just one more for Grammy to look after.

Anyway, I can remember snippets of occasions, now all rolled into one generalised memory, no doubt coloured by photos of junkanoo I’ve seen since then, of watching junkanoo as a very young child. But I don’t remember many specifics.

I can remember the first times I actually rushed, though. In fact I remember the year before that, when my parents thought I was too young to rush. I was three weeks shy of my sixth birthday. I was dying to rush – Adrian, my cousin, had rushed that year with his father, Uncle Johnny. Mark, Adrian’s brother, and I were still too young, though. You have to remember that junkanoo was different back then, it was rougher – or so our parents told us. I don’t think junkanoo participation was accepted among the middle classes they way it is now – none of my friends at school did it, and my other Grandmother, Grammy Lilly definitely didn’t approve. Then again, she was Brethren, so that doesn’t really say much.

Anyway, that year Mark and I were still too young. Mummy and Auntie Sonja (Mark and Adrian’s Mum) made it up to us by making us costumes as well, so that the three of us could parade around in a mini junkanoo on Christmas.

I remember that costume so well – just shirt and pants mind you, but still, my first junkanoo costume. Red, white and blue. Uncle Johnny rushed with the Westerners, one of the last traditional, old time groups to survive (in the old days, groups would form out of neighbourhoods – the Westerners came from the Virginia St area, by St Mary’s Church).

Red, white and blue. In those days, old time junkanoo groups would come would come out with everybody wearing a pasted shirt pants and hat with horizontal stripes of the same colours. The decorative costumes were carried by individuals for the most part in those days. I guess that Valley Boys brought in the New Junkanoo era when their entire group came to Bay dressed as Scottish Highlanders.

Anyway, I digress. The westerners were a commited old time junkanoo group. And they were nationalistic. Every year they came out with red, white and blue, (remember in those pre-independence days the flag was still the Union Jack). That was the uniform – when you saw the red, white and blue, you knew it was the Westerners. Of course when we got independence, we did switch to aqua and gold, but there was a strong loyalist element in the group, I suppose, because we alternated years: one year aqua and gold, one year red, white and blue. It was funny really because for a stretch there, Mark, Adrian and I got out of sync with the rest of the group – when they would have red, white and blue, we would have aqua and gold and vice versa.

So anyway that first costume was before independence so it was red, white and blue thick fringe pasted end to end. But I loved it! I would have slept in it if I had the chance. We had so much fun on our mini rush on Boxing Day that somehow we convinced our parents to do it again on New Year’s – or so the story goes in my mind. I don’t know how those costumes could have held up for that Christmas week, but I know that that costume was still around come New Year’s. That year was my first experience of a New Year’s Eve party. Three of my cousins have birthdays very close to New Year’s Eve, so their family hosted a joint birthday and New Year’s Eve Party.

The party was great! Something I ate or drank(!) must not have agreed with me though (that’s another story!). When we got home and I went to bed, I insisted on putting on my junkanoo costume so when I woke up the next morning I would be ready for our New Year’s mini rush. Anyway, all I remember is waking up feeling really, really sick. Panic stations sick. It’s going to blow any second sick. And it did. Puke all over the front of my junkanoo costume!

I guess that’s why I remember it so well – a disaster like that usually leaves a lasting impression. But to this day, I still remember that great feeling of pride of wearing the red, white and blue for the first time.