Fly Original: James Weldon Johnson

Black History Month ended on February 28th, and though it wasn't mentioned much on Fly Brother, all month long, my ninth-grade world history students had to present an African-American hero to their class for a test grade. One of these heroes seems to be channeling me from up above.

A native of my own hometown of Jacksonville, Florida, James Weldon Johnson was the son of an educator, who would later become an educator in his own right, in addition to being a diplomat, poet, novelist, lyricist, and civil rights activist. At only 24, Johnson became a high school principal and founded a newspaper, before being the first black person to pass the Florida bar exam. Soon, he collaborated with his brother, musician John Rosamond Johnson (who happened to be the musical director at the church I grew up in, decades prior, of course), on several theater projects, and penned the amazing lyrics of the Negro National Anthem, "Lift Every Voice and Sing" (which I had learned at least by age six).


These ten li'l high school jitterbugs better sang! ('Specially the last verse at 2:45).

Tired of the racist buffoonery of popular music at the time (hmmm...so nothing's changed?), Johnson left that industry, entered Columbia University, and in 1906, was named U.S. consul in Puerto Cabello, Venezuela. After being transferred to Nicaragua, where he wrote his impactful novel The Autobiography of an Ex-Coloured Man, he left the foreign service (they weren't trying to hook a brother up with a decent post back in 1913), settled in New York, became general secretary of the NAACP in 1920, published three anthologies on Negro poetry and spirituals, a collection of poetry, and his own true autobiography. Sadly, he was killed at the age of 67, when a train hit his car in 1938. Still, Johnson is remembered by the students of the various schools that bear his name (my brother went to the one in J-ville) and by the millions of black Americans who get teary-eyed at the last lines of "Lift Every Voice and Sing":

Shadowed beneath Thy hand,
May we forever stand,
True to our God,
True to our native land.

In belated honor of Black History Month, Fly Brother salutes fellow Duvalian, Renaissance Man, and Fly Original, James Weldon Johnson. May I be half as prolific as he.

How to Get to Carnival

So you want to get in on the Carnival action but don't know where to start?

Find out when.
First, you need to get the dates cornered before embarking on any pre-Lenten debauchery. True Carnivals - be they in Brazil, Italy, Spain, the Caribbean, or any other Catholic-leaning society - occur simultaneously, which means ix-nay on a year-round party binge (unless, of course, you count New York's West Indian Day parade, Calle Ocho in Miami, the Notting Hill joint, or innumerable other Carnival-esque activities that are not True Carnivals and can happen on any random date); you can only choose one event per year. Also, just like Easter, which is always forty days after Fat Tuesday, Carnival jumps around the calender every year: for 2011, the main events run from March 4th through the 8th, with celebrations kicking off a few days beforehand in spots like Salvador.

Find out where.
Besides the biggies (Rio, New Orleans, Venice), you've got the Carnivals featured here on Fly Brother (Salvador, Barranquilla, Trinidad), plus parties in Panama, Santo Domingo, the Canary Islands, Florence, Cologne, Sydney, Port-au-Prince, Goa, Buenos Aires, and Mobile, so language-barriers and dislike of long flights serve as week excuses for not going buck-wild at somebody's fête-a-tête-tête.

Find out who.
You could choose to hit Carnival solo, which is always a good way to meet new people on the road. Still, heading down with an established group is the best way to maximize your enjoyment and minimize hassles. You may think of yourself as an independent person, but you can always break away from the group for some alone time while still taking advantage of discounted airfares and accommodations, and the knowledge of local tour guides or experienced travelers. Each year, in addition to traditional travel agencies, educational institutions and individuals arrange group packages with which anyone can become affiliated: Dr. Jan DeCosmo of Florida A&M University organizes inexpensive packages to Trinidad and Salvador under the banner of "Friends of the Caribbean" (email her at k d e c o s m o [a t] h o t m a i l [d o t] c o m for more information) and the closer it gets to the blessed event, impromptu travel groups spring up on websites like Meet-Up, Virtual Tourist, BootsnAll, and Lonely Planet's Thorn Tree Forum.

Find out more.
English-language websites for Carnival in Rio, Barranquilla, Salvador, and Trinidad.

Trini Mas*

Part 3 of a 3-part series on lesser-known, but no-less-hot, Carnival celebrations.

On the tiny Caribbean island of Trinidad, four-hundred years of recorded history under various European flags and immigration from the four corners of the globe have shaped and molded the look and feel of Trinidad and Tobago Carnival into one of the most distinctive and flavorful events in the English-speaking world. Like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, TnT Carnival stems from French colonization (though Spain held title over the place back then) and has incorporated elements from Africa, Europe, Venezuela, India, and North America; these elements, in turn, were exported throughout the West Indies and overseas, including London's famous Notting Hill Carnival.

Besides the obvious visual stimulation of a scrumdiddlyumptious backside winin' to some soca, TnT Carnival is an ocular feast of traditional costumed characters that make the Disney Main Street Parade look like an elementary school Christmas pageant. Observe:

The Fancy Indian (based on traditional Plains Indian dress from the modern-day US and Canada):

Photo by caribbeanfreephoto

The Moko Jumbie (derived from the Congolese tradition of village protectors who could see trouble before it arrived...basically, security guards):

Photo by Withthejameses

The Midnight Robber (inspired by the traditional African storyteller, the griot, who tells tall tales about his exploits, adventures, and prowess...lookin like a piyimp):





















Photo by izatrini_com

Dame Lorraine (a playful version of a typical French aristocratic lady, with her big-booty self):

Photo by longdistancelady

Jabs (French patois for "diable" - devil - these firestarters come in various shades and manifestations - wings and sharp teeth and such; as you can see, they start young, the little hellions):

Photo by dexout

Cow Folk (based on, well, cows):

Photo by shawnking99

*The word "mas" is short for "masquerade" and is used to denote the various costumed bands of revelers during TnT Carnival.

En Barranquilla Se Baila Así

Part 2 of a 3-part series on lesser-known, but no-less-hot, Carnival celebrations.

Growing every year by word of mouth, the Carnaval de Barranquilla on the Caribbean coast of Colombia is more an expression of folklore and regional culture than random debauchery and merriment. In 2003, the festival was named a Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Patrimony of Humanity by UNESCO, the cultural body of the United Nations. Instead of an ever-shifting theme, this party features an array of signature dances that embody the synthesis of cultures that make up Colombian society, each with a particular set of costumes and its own rhythmic beat. Here are three of the most popular dances performed at Carnaval:

The national dance of Colombia, the cumbia marries the gyrating hands of the Spanish, the swiveling hips of the Africans, and the steadfast foot-shuffle of the Indigenous peoples in a pas de deux of civilized seduction.


The costume of the garabato supposedly symbolizes life and death, while the movements indicate nothing but a joy for living (and drinking).


More traditionally danced at night and in loincloths, the mapalé ("fish out of water") has probably remained the most unchanged from its cultural origins of all the Carnival dances.


And yes, I have been out Carnivaling...see:

Where the Brazilians Go for Carnival

Part 1 of a 3-part series on lesser-known, but no-less-hot, Carnival celebrations.

While most of the world looks to its more famous neighbor to the south as the epitome of pre-Lenten debauchery, Brazil’s first capital, Salvador da Bahia, is truly where you find Brazilian Carnival. Or, rather, Carnival for Brazilians. You don’t “see” Carnival in Salvador from the sidelines, you live it for six days and nights, non-stop, eating skewered street meat and getting no sleep. Billed as less commercial than Rio’s renowned festivities, Brazilians from north to south pounce on Salvador to dance in the shadow of their favorite pop stars, and maybe even have a quick fling or two with a hottie from another state. Still, Carnival in Salvador offers ample opportunities for both the innocent and the grown-and-sexy to enjoy the combination of history, culture, and unexplainable magic for which Brazil is known.

The colonial capital from 1549 to 1763 and once the largest slave port in Brazil, Salvador holds nearly three million people, over eighty-percent of whom having discernable African ancestry. And the music and dance and food originating here—more than in any other part of Brazil—is mainstream, not just a subculture. There is no place quite like Salvador. Some places come close: pre-Katrina New Orleans with music on every corner, Havana, where salsa and Santería share equal billing.





















But no place captures the convergence of African and European cultures as thoroughly and inextricably as Salvador. The city government has even erected statues in homage to the “Orixá,” the Yoruba pantheon of deities celebrated in Brazilian Candomblé, Spanish Caribbean Santería, and Haitian Vodou, the syncretic religions created when slaves were “converted” to Catholicism. This cross-pollination forms the bedrock of Brazilian culture and is manifested at its purest in Salvador, where anyone can add his or her own flavor to the already rich stew.
Carnival is a two-pronged event in Salvador. Family-friendly Pelourinho (“whipping-post” in Portuguese), the city’s church-steepled historic district perched high above the sea, plays host to traditional costumed bands of revelers and samba groups that parade over the cobblestones with interminable energy. Unlike Rio, with its ever-changing samba competition squeezed into a specially-designed stadium, Salvador’s groups remain true to historical themes—grandmothers swirling dervishly as hoop-skirted “Baianas,” white-robed men walking pensively as “Filhos de Gandhy” (Sons of Gandhi)—while be-feathered kids and muscle-toned capoeristas frolic in sunburnt plazas. Clowns and mimes cavort on strategically-placed stages, all-Asian percussion sections tap out lightning-fast sambas, up-and-coming ingénues coo bossa nova classics from back alley cafés, and body-painted teenagers grab unsuspecting tourists for a little shimmy-shaking.

Starting mid-afternoon, Carnival gets down-and-dirty, literally, in the Cidade Baixa (Lower City), with the “trio eletrico” parades in the downtown district of Campo Grande, or along the beach at Barra and Ondina. Essentially gigantic boomboxes hitched to trucks, trios eletricos are moving concerts, topped by wildly popular Brazilian musical acts that belt out gyration-inducing “axé” music, a bawdy combination of samba and reggae. Timbalada, Olodum, Daniela Mercury, and Ivete Sangalo entertain hundreds of thousands of fans—often drunk, horny, or both—who squeeze into the streets around the trios and are known collectively as “pipoca” (popcorn) because usually the only range of motion in the crowd is vertical. Young people wear the most basic attire, bring nothing more expensive than a disposable camera, and stash their money safely in their undies; older partiers watch the action from bleachers along the sides, a decidedly less-raucous experience but one with a better-stocked bar than on the street.

Yes, I have been smack in the middle of all this humanity. Yes, it's the lick!

Still, the intimate contact of thousands of bodies under an infectious rhythm conjures up a natural high that keeps the place rocking until daybreak. Should an unexpected rainstorm arise, clothes come off and the party don’t stop. You, like the Brazilians around you, just let the wet cleanse you of the sweat.

Click here to see LIVE streaming video of the action in Salvador and get your Brazilian booty-bounce on in the safety of your own home.

Any of you guys got any Bahian memories you want to share?

It's Time...

Photo by tinkerg

For the next week, in most of the Catholic-influenced world, millions are enjoying the last few days of fleshly delights before the forty-day pre-Easter fasting and sacrifices of Lent. These celebrations, aptly named Carnival (or "farewell to the flesh," either because of the religious ban on meat during Lent, or because it's the time to indulge in uncharacteristic behavior), have melded cultures and traditions the world over into Earth's biggest, raunchiest, off-the-hookest simultaneous party. Everyone knows about the thonged-and-feathered lovelies of Rio, the chiaroscuro masques of Venice, and the beads and breasts of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to introduce you to three other events - just as bold, loud, and unchaste as their better-known cousins. And then, I'll help you plan your trip for next year.

Inspiration: A Man, A Plan, A Canal - Panama!

In the face of life's always unexpected challenges, I've been needing a little inspiration to stay motivated on many fronts. After searching through some old travel notes, I found a great quote by a great man about a great feat of human ingenuity:

It is not the critic who counts, nor the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.

-Theodore Roosevelt, from a plaque in the rotunda of the Panama Canal Administration Building.