Remembering Carnival 1979

Whatever the wiseacres said at the time, Carnival, big people’s Carnival, the Parade of the Bands on Carnival Tuesday, was still worth watching in 1979.

On Carnival Monday, 2003, it seems that Minshall’s “Ship of Fools” excepted, the only shows worth watching this year were Children’s Carnival — only there could one see the creativity, the originality which made Trinidad Carnival “The Greatest Show on Earth”. Even so, Carnival 1979 was not without controversy, for I began this piece on the Parade of the Bands with these words: “Carnival of the Sea was pretty but was it mas?” “No!” said veteran (and rival) bandleader Irving McWilliams. ‘Yes,’ said the Carnival Development Committee (CDC) judges. So Peter Minshall walked away with all the top CDC prizes and the Angostura Trophy, leaving everyone with colour TV sets or tickets to the stands arguing fiercely in favour of theatre, dance, colour, and impact on the competition stage. This left the owners of black-and-white TV sets to turn down the sound, and sidewalk spectators (who never had a hope of seeing the stage presentation) to rely on radio commentaries for a full description of the controversial scene. For the rest of ’79 the burning question in every masquerader and Carnival bandleader’s mind is bound to be “is Carnival for the people, or for ticket holders and colour televiewers only?” And that should keep at least one section of the population happy arguing the toss until Carnival ’80.

Meanwhile Pan Trinbago has been brewing up a next callaloo of Carnival calamities. Or have they? The stands certainly got their money’s worth; this year visitors were spared the hours of boredom and their hosts an endless repetition of abject apologies for the regiments of uncostumed steelband supporters who normally monopolise the stage for an hour or two on end — much to the fury of the CDC and the Tourist Board. Only Despers came over the Savannah stage to demonstrate their mastery of pan, and save the face and the reputation of “we kinda music” — and gave Kitch the airing he deserved. The straight fight for the rest of this year will be between those who dare to wear the “I Love Despers” T shirts, and those who wouldn’t be seen dead in them — in case they are. And such must be the torment in the breast of every kaiso fan. Would “I tell she”, and “Mammy, Mammy, I want to go back to school” have stood a ghost of a chance for Road March honours without the unexpected aid of Pan Trinbago? Too bad that Kitch withdrew the promised extra $3,000 for Road March King this year . . . . (2003 note. Sorry, I’ve no recollection whatsoever of what Pan Trinbago did — and why. Perhaps Bill Trotman can enlighten us — well, jog my memory, at any rate.)

While Crazy and every other calypsonian will be beating their brains out to produce two hits for ’80 (one for pan and one for brass) the rest of us will be watching this year’s steelband clash-with-a-difference. No one seems to know if they are taking on the CDC alone, or if higher echelons of Government are involved in the struggle for next year’s cash. People with no interest in Carnival at all, people who have been saying all along that education and culture were never suitable bedfellows, will remember the Central Library and how much money hasn’t been spent on that since it was forced to close down. (And in 2003, more than a quarter century after the old building was condemned, how much money was, may still be spent on the new Central Library — and when, if ever, will it be open to the public?) Yet, those same people with little or no interest in Carnival, will reflect that money was no problem for Carnival in schools, or for the junior calypso competition, or kiddies Carnival (in retrospect, one is grateful for that in 2003). And they will be expecting the next press reports of protests about the shortages of school equipment, school buses, school maintenance and the rest of that depressing list of the educational woes of the nation.

Although, technically, maintaining school buildings and the rest of  those educational woes are supposed to be the Minister of Works’ baby, as the British would say “The hand that holds the purse-strings rules - OK?” Is the steelband fight the first puff of a wind of change that will shift the emphasis from culture to education? There are many who will argue that if this is so, then the change is long overdue. (Ahem — in 2003 it seems that prizes for steelband competition were about to be slashed in ’79 with the money going to make up for deficiencies in education. But that’s just a wild guess for it seems that while we have a great many competent young pannists in our schools, there are growing numbers of school-leavers who are barely literate — so perhaps music won out after all? I welcome readers’ comments . . .) Carnival ’79 is a fete that is still worth watching as the comesse goes on and on. Did Despers know something that the rest of Pan Trinbago didn’t? Or did they remember the fate of the Bee Wee pilots (2003 who had gone on strike) and the late “Priority Bus Route” Minister of Works (2003, apologies, I’ve forgotten that one, too). Who knows? (Obviously, I don’t, in 2003). Yet, Carnival ’79 has indeed been a fete to remember . . . With hindsight, a quarter century later, of Carnival ’79 I can only remember seeing Bill Trottman on the Savannah stage dressed as schoolboy singing his hit calypso. How about you?

E-mail your memories of Carnival ‘79 to annehilton@opus.co.tt