Island beats keep the crowd jumping on Lake Shore Blvd. Spectacular parade highlight of two-week Caribbean festival. The mantle of royalty is a heavy one.
By Raju MudharLuckily, Susan Ishmael has not only the look, but the experience to carry it, because yesterday her royal duties might have made even the most zealous Caribana celebrant think twice.
As queen of Louis Saldenah's mas band, her large silver, spiky, peacock-like costume weighed 220 lbs. at least 100 more than Ishmael, 32, a record company operations manager. "It's all right, actually, but the wind whipped up and that caused a little havoc," she said, a fitting observation since the costume's theme was "havoc in space."
Ishmael has been the queen of Saldenah's mas, or masquerade, band several times. The largest mas band in the Caribana parade, it had more than 1,100 costumed revellers and three trucks loaded down with speakers and sound systems.
A little before 1 p.m., they got going on the parade route, where hundreds of thousands were celebrating Toronto's version of Carnival, a festival popular in the West Indies for more than 200 years.
Although many reggae toasters, or rappers, in the parade exhorted the onlookers to "jump up," they needed no encouragement to dance to the rhythm.
The parade was the highlight of the two-week festival, the 37th edition of Caribana, the largest celebration of its kind in North America. Attendance was hit hard last year by the SARS outbreak and the organizing committee had to work to get the crowds back.
"Well, we had to do a lot of major advertising and marketing, and the word is out there that SARS is dead," Caribana chair John Kam said. "I think what we're seeing is an influx of people who didn't come last year, coming back out this year."
Earlier in the morning, a gray sky and intermittent rain had some of the onlookers worried, but the participants refused to let an overcast sky threaten their celebration.
In the parade staging area, Errol Marcell waited patiently as his friend Dale covered him head to toe in silver body paint.
"It's all for the party," Marcell said. "The best thing about Caribana is the parade and if you haven't been in it, you've got to try it, at least once."
Of course, for many in the bands' staging area, the party was already under way, fuelled by what they called "juice," but which obviously had a much higher alcohol content.
Then, almost exactly at noon, the sky turned into a gorgeous blue and the sun decided to join in the festive mood.
"Lord have mercy! It just means that God must be Trinidadian," joked Richard Joseph, 36, from London, Ont.
Caribana celebrates art, fashion and particularly music with the best "riddims" from soca, calypso, reggae and steel pan drum bands ringing out along Lake Shore Blvd. W.
The party vibe was infectious. Rapper Wyclef Jean walked the street alongside his truck, which had famous reggae artist Buju Banton toasting along while Jean sang and strolled with the masses. "I love it, partying in the streets with the people, it's fantastic," said the former Fugee.
Mayor David Miller, decked out in a bright blue Hawaiian shirt, kicked off the parade. "It is my great pleasure to be here as mayor of Toronto for the first time, but it's my umpteenth time being here as a spectator," he told the crowd and dignitaries from Caribbean nations.
Though the partying is defined by its roots in Trinidad and Tobago, what makes it truly Torontonian is how it's become accepted across cultures.
"Look at it. It's lovely, the mas bands and the integration. It's like what Bob Marley sang about. We're all one, there ain't no outer differences, it's all love," said Jenna Grant, who showed up at 7 a.m. to mark out her spot along the parade route.
She was right. Judging by the people along the jammed parade route and those in the mas bands ? young and old of all ethnicities ? Caribana gets everyone out to celebrate.
