Dancing in the Streets (and running for your life)

Monday, February 06, 2006

Kanaval is here! Kanaval (Carnival) is that time of year when Haitians take to the streets to celebrate life to the sounds of konpa, mizik rasin, and street bands throughout the country. Right now is the prelude, which consists of marches through the streets and celebrations in Petion-ville and at the Champs de Mars (the city’s central plaza) every Sunday leading up to the real deal—February 26^th-28^th, culminating on ‘Fat Tuesday.’

Last Sunday Danny and I decided to take to the streets to see this spectacle for ourselves. Along with two Haitian friends, Roody and Ronald, we headed for Lalue, one of the main arteries that leads to the Champs de Mars. As we walked down the street towards the ocean, the crowd began to get thicker and was starting to buzz with energy. Without even realizing it, our little group picked up our step as we heard the music of DJ Fan Fan, one of Kanaval’s most popular DJs, off in the distance. We finally caught up to the crowd, which we could see was surrounding a float of epic proportions emanating a mix of up-tempo Haitian beats and exaltations to move what you’ve got. As we penetrated the mass of people dancing to the music, Danny remarked: “Is that thing moving?”

Indeed it was. DJ Fan Fan was slowly making its way down Lalue, passing by older women gazing down from balconies and young children dancing on cars parked by the side of the road. To keep pace, the revelers march in step to the beat of Kanaval, creating a synchronized wave of energy as they head towards their final destination, the Champs de Mars.

Just as Danny and I were settling into our role of the token foreigners in this distinctly Haitian celebration, shaking hands and attracting stares left and right, there was a swift turn of events that left us on edge. Two men started arguing, and before we knew it one pulled a gun and started flailing it wildly, sending the crowd sprawling in all directions. The man he was arguing with fell to the ground, and the gunman held the pistol menacingly to his head. I was knocked off my feet by the fleeing crowd, and by the time I was picked up by a passer-by the fight had broken up. “Don’t worry,” Roody told Danny and I, “that was a police officer. Otherwise he would have killed the guy.” And so we brushed ourselves off and rejoined the crowd, which was already lost in the hypnotic sounds emanating from DJ Fan Fan’s float.

Before long we reached the plaza of the National Palace, where we encountered other DJs and floats that had taken different routes through the city to the big show. The Champs de Mars was full to the brim with people, certainly tens of thousands. The energy was only rising as we slipped off into a backstreet on our way home at 10:00, leaving behind an entire city releasing the energy of a people under siege.