Zahra Gordon

                                            

Fright is a family tradition (with all due smiles and respect). My grandmother has told me that when she was young and heard the devil mas bands coming down the street, she found solace in bed! My sister remembers cowering in the back seat of a car while devil masqueraders stopped traffic drenched in oil, adorned with menacing horns, pitch forks and tails. Yet while I have fear to follow, devil masquerade has another narrative: 

Similar to West African masquerades, the 19th century “Devils” of Trinidad were not themselves, but were reacting to the teachings espoused by Christianity and the upper class which informed them that should they commit crimes and sins, especially sins against their neighbours such as theft and envy, they would go to Hell at death and meet devils. Realising that the real devils were the Whites, and laughing at Christian teaching to a certain extent, the Africans masqueraded as the “Devil”  (Rituals of Power & Rebellion 263)

No wonder children find these devils so frightening. But since I’m no longer a child, I have a much greater appreciation for the powerful messages such mas can produce as well as its evolution. Last year for Labor Day Jouvert in New York, this evolution was clear. Not only had the mas left the islands, but it had transformed. The best devil band last year, in my opinion, was the band “White Devils”. Masqueraders used white paint instead of blue and many had signs identifying who they were portraying: “Charles Manson” or “Dick Cheney”. “George Bush”, “Jan Van Riebeeck” or “Christopher Columbus” Was this not a genius statement of resistance? Genius enough to get me from behind that skirt.