Une Grande Fête with the Acadians of Prince Edward Island

Joe Narcisse band, Abram Village

On a recent visit to the western end of Prince Edward Island, the birthplace of my maternal grandfather, I was curious to see what my far distant cousins were up to. I picked a good weekend—the region was holding its annual Acadian Festival and Agricultural Exposition in the town of Abram Village.

The area, known as the Région Évangéline, is the where the island’s Acadian heritage is strongest. The Acadians are descendants of French settlers in Eastern Canada, a people who withstood a turbulent history. After the British gained control of Acadia in the 1700s, the Acadians refused to sign an oath of allegiance to Britain. The Brits, fearing the Acadians would support France in future conflicts, rounded up over 3,000 Acadians on the island, burned down their houses, and deported them to France in 1758. Over half of the expelled population died from shipwrecks or disease. The event is known as the Grand Dérangement, or the Great Expulsion.

A few Acadians, however, basically said to the British, “Screw you, we ain’t leaving,” and hid out in the woods with the Mi’kmaq nation, their allies against British aggression. The expelled population that survived was soon allowed by treaty to return to the island and joined the few Acadians that had remained. But they faced difficulties in keeping their language. As late as the 1960s, there were no schools giving classes in French in the city of Summerside. According to historian Georges Arsenault, the Acadians of Summerside wrote a letter to their bishop asking for a French-language mass, since many of the parishioners were French-speaking Acadians. The bishop contacted the local priest, who then exploded at the pulpit and accused the Acadians of being Communists.

Presently, the Acadians of Prince Edward Island, Canada’s smallest province, can freely speak their language, and the announcer of the festival’s lobster eating contest nimbly switched between French and English when stating the rules of the competition to the crowd of amused onlookers.

Lobster eating contest, Acadian Festival, Abram VillageWinner: Joel Arsenault, left.The contestants start with a whole, steamed lobster. The person who eats all of the tail, knuckle, and claw meat first is the winner. Utensils? As if to nod to the resourcefulness of past generations of Acadian settlers, none are provided. A lobster doesn’t contain that much meat, so the eating part is the easy part. Accessing that meat as fast as you can, using only your hands and teeth, is where skill comes into play.

Two heats of contestants demonstrated the Acadian appetite for lobster. Some clamped down molars, others punched the claws in a staccato viciousness. In the end, the fastest eater, who was also last year’s winner, was penalized for leaving a little piece of knuckle meat in the shell. The judge was boldly meticulous while examining the shell debris of the contestants, dipping her bare hands into the mess of shards on a mission to find the true winner. Serious business, this Acadian lobster eating contest. The trophy, emblazoned with a silhouette of a lobster, was awarded to the second fastest finisher, Joël Arsenault, who managed to eat the shells clean. He also received another prize: ten fresh lobsters (that he could eat at his own pace).

 

Joe Narcisse band and dancersJust as the contestants went at the crustaceans with no utensils, the band La Famille des Joe Narcisse provided percussion to accompany their guitar, fiddle, and keyboard outfit without any percussion instruments. They stomped on the stage while still seated to keep the beat. “It’s the Acadian weight-loss challenge,” the guitarist called it. Halfway through the set, a group of dancers hopped on stage and picked up where the foot-stomping left off.

 

kevin Naquin and the Ossun PlayboysThe word Cajun derives from the word Acadian (the bayou of Louisiana was where many expelled Acadians ended up), and this year, the Festival invited Kevin Naquin and the Ossun Playboys, a group of the Acadians’ long-lost relatives from the Bayou, to play up north. “It’s like dancing at home,” the keyboardist announced. As expected, lobster-versus-crawfish jokes abounded.

 

pole climbersThe pole climbing show was part acrobatics, part comedy skit performed in a jumble of French and English.

 

first place chickenHistorically, Acadians have been both farmers and fishermen, working the land and the sea. The coastal terrain the Acadians populate reflects such a connection to the environment. The Festival gave awards to the best livestock, although I’m afraid I’m unsure of what criteria one uses to judge the best chicken. The timbre of its clucks? the fluffiness of its feathers? And another question: does a first place ribbon exempt the bird from ending up in a simmering pan of chicken fricot?

 

Boot throwing man, Acadian FesitvalBoot throwing woman, Acadian FestivalThe boot throwing competition was one of the Festival’s largest draws. The longest throw wins, bouncing included. One of the groundskeepers, who won a few years ago, gave me seasoned boot-throwing advice: since the boot has an opening that can catch the air and slow it down, you have to throw it in such a way that the opening is toward the back as much as possible.

 

Acadian tattooI spotted this biker, tattooed with the Acadian flag, enjoying the pole climbing show.

 

Lobster trap with acadian flag, Abram VillageOne of the houses in town displayed the Acadian flag on a pair lobster traps in the middle of their lawn.

 

Steamed lobstersSpeaking of lobster, my wife and I had our turn at the Resto-Bar la Trappe. Last I checked, lobster is not an endangered species. But based on the amount of times we took advantage of the inexpensiveness of the local catch while we were on Prince Edward Island, I think the scientists should check again.

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Candombe Comes to Queens

Candombe drummers in Long Island City, QueensWhen a friend of mine from Uruguay mentioned on social media that he was not only in the country, but performing in my borough, I had to check it out. Little did I know that my friend, candombe drummer and music historian Tatita Marquez, would be just one part of last night’s festivities at Long Island City’s newly-opened Paper Factory Hotel to celebrate the birthday of the hotel’s owner, Gal Sela.

As if to underscore the magnitude of the celebration, the candombe drumming didn’t even begin inside the swanky hotel itself, but on 37th Avenue, right outside the hotel. This was not some provocative maneuver. As I narrated in a piece I wrote for Perceptive Travel a few years back, groups of candombe drum players, or cuerdas, are frequently seen and heard in the streets of Montevideo and other Uruguayan cities. Tatita and crew treated us to a Uruguayan experience, right here in Queens.

Candombe drumming in Long Island City, QueensThe street sign for 37th Avenue is visible above, in case you might be thinking that this happened on Calle Isla de Flores in Montevideo. Also, the cuerdas in Montevideo usually consist of many more than six drummers. Check out A Dialog of Echoes in Uruguay for more background and pictures from Montevideo.

Blue bird fire dancer at the Paper Factory Hotel.And here is a sampling of the other acts, starting with a roof-top fire dancer. By roof, I mean a roof of an old Blue Bird school bus.

Finger painter at the Paper Factory Hotel.A finger painter.

The High and Mighty Brass Band at the Paper Factory Hotel, July 31, 2014.The courtyard was also treated to a set of New Orleans-influenced tunes from a stripped-down lineup of the High and Mighty Brass Band (from Brooklyn).

Bus top hip-hopBus top hip-hop meets A Clockwork Orange. I think.

Tatita Marquez and Darrin DuFord at the Paper Factory Hotel.Tatita and I.

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Belize’s Lionfish: If You Can’t Beat Them, Eat Them

lionfish_tableTargeting invasive species with a dinner fork, especially a species known for its own bottomless appetite, can result in satisfying justice. It’s all the better when the critter in question makes a satisfying meal. Belize, along with the rest of the Caribbean, is currently battling the lionfish invasion with enthusiastic culinary experimentation.

To do my part, I met up with a Belizean diver and several restaurateurs during a recent trip. My story, Man vs. Fish, appears on the award-winning travel journalism site Roads & Kingdoms. Tuck in your napkin and enjoy the ride.

 

 

 

 

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Martinique’s Street Art

Amid the conch and octopus crepes, the traffic circles, the drum machine-driven zouk songs trickling from passing cars, and the public pay toilets shaped like chic time machines, I found that the island of Martinique displays some of its more intriguing reflections of its personality though its street art.

Murals, paste-ups, and stencils abundantly pop up around this small, cane-blanketed piece of France in the Caribbean, in both the capital of Fort-de-France and many of the island’s small fishing towns. While the bulk of Martinique’s restaurants close for a five-hour siesta starting at 2 pm (in addition to the month-long vacations that many businesses take in the summer, as well as the weekly vacation day known as Sunday), the island’s street art is always ready to be viewed and considered.

Below are some of my favorites. The images are best viewed large. Click on any image to enlarge it.

martinique la savane

martinique la savane 2The above paste-up characters liven up an unused façade facing La Savane, the central park of downtown Fort-de-France. Various layers of the city’s history have partially peeled away from the façade, the paste-ups representing the building’s latest interaction with the bustle of La Savane.

 

martinique rue blenac
martinique rue blenac 2A mural by the Mada Paint collective spans the door to a private parking space in Fort-de-France. The horror on the subject’s divided face may to refer to Martinique’s monomaniacal dependence on cars chopping up the life of the city.

 

martinique sainte anneThis gathering, painted by Slane, appears on the side of a t-shirt store in Sainte Anne, the island’s southernmost town.

martinique trois isletsA wall of an elementary school in Trois Ilets has been outfitted with a mural by Oshea & Xän of the Mada Paint collective.

 

martinique anse mitanHalf-tubes of cane climb up the wall of an apartment building in Anse Mitan.

 

martinique doorThis recessed area of a stuccoed building in Fort-de-France may have been a doorway at one time, but now it’s an outlet for plumbing pipes and a canvas for an abstract piece.

 

martinique mash
martinique mash 2Works by Jimmy Sabas, aka Mash, a Guadeloupian now living in Martinique, can be found scattered around Fort-de-France. In May of this year, along a stretch the city’s pedestrianized Rue de la République, Mash painted and stenciled a powerful mural reflecting on the slavery of the island’s past. He accompanied the shackles with the message “Les blessures qu’on oubli, ne peuvent pas être guéri” – injuries that we forget can not be cured.

 

martinique rue de la republique
martinique rue de la republiqueCement blocks that keep cars out of the pedestrianized Rue de la République watch over the foot traffic.

 

martinique on route to fort-de-franceA mural made from tiles fills a windowless wall, beautifying an otherwise drab, bumper-to-bumper commute through the blocky, concrete suburbs of the capital.

 

martinique coiffureAn abandoned building next to a hairdresser’s salon in Fort-de-France has received a facelift. Two of them.

 

martinique eye, centre ville, fort-de-franceIn downtown Fort-de-France, if you look up past the reaches of the cathedral’s spire, you may lock eyes with this.

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Love, Death, and Protein in Panama

Musuco counterman, Panama City

Perhaps I am a little too passionate about ceviche.

In 2012, I traveled to Panama for a closer look at the artisanal procurement of corvina, a fish popular throughout the country. I ended up meeting with a chilly two-step, a murky aphrodisiac, and a phantom hat. And a man who cheerfully doubles as a boat wife.

The resulting tale, Love, Death and Protein in Panama, appears over at On A Junket, edited by the same folks who brought you Adventures of the Traveling Sex Bunnies.

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