Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Twelfth Night (and Carnival begins)

It was raining lightly when my sister, her husband, and I arrived at the Canal Street streetcar barn about 6:15-ish pm to witness and participate in the first parade of Carnival, the Phunny Phorty Phellows, who use streetcars as floats. Originally founded way back in 1878, the PPP paraded only 20 years before disbanding. The group was "revived" in 1981 by local Carnival history buffs needing an excuse to party. Who cares? It's great to have this fun, public event to kick off the Carnival season.

A brass band, the Storyville Stompers, was playing swinging trad tunes, and about 100 costumed revelers were milling about, drinking champagne and munching little purple, green, and gold pastries from Sucre on Magazine Street, instead of kingcake. (Ever notice that during Carnival, folks masked and dressed for the season are always described as "costumed revelers"?) Joining the members of PPP were members of the general public, bringing the total number of people under the shelter of the barn to around 150-200. (Thank goodness for the barn, since after we arrived, it began to really pour. Unlike traditional parades with papier maché floats, PPP never has to worry about the weather -- streetcars roll in almost any kind of conditions.)

People were dancing or shimmying to the music, and there was LOTS of kissing -- in New Orleans, we do not air-kiss, we actually KISS on greeting -- folks happily saying, "Happy Carnival!" or even "Happy Mardi Gras!" to each other. (Strictly speaking, it's not correct to say "Mardi Gras" until the actual day, but at this point, it is a distinction without a difference.) Roughly 20 minutes or so after we arrived, there was the "official" ribbon-cutting to symbolize the official start of Carnival; then the wide purple, green, and gold ribbon was cut into 4-inch sections to distribute to the crowd. "Wear it on your Mardi Gras costume to prove you were at the start of it all," advised the PPP member who gave me and my sister our pieces. We nodded solemnly.

After the ribbon-cutting, there was more music, more dancing, more drinking, more milling about and kissing. Another Phellow had a bag of special medallion beads that he was selectively handing out; I'm proud to say that I got one. The medallion pictured the front of a streetcar with a driver and two costumed members of the Phunny Phorty Phellows visible in the front window. Interestingly, the name of the krewe does not appear. I guess you just have to know.

The "theme" of the krewe this year was a tribute to Zulu, which celebrates its 100th anniversary this year -- but you certainly could not tell that from the costumes of the riders, which tended towards the political and the current. We saw several "Mission Accomplished" Bushes in flight suits, and lots of hobos labelled "Wall Street" or "Made-off."

Somewhere in the general neighborhood of 7 pm (the announced start time), the Phellows began boarding the streetcar, which had been heavily decorated, but only on the inside, which was only sensible, given the conditions. It seemed impossible that the whole costumed krewe could fit into the streetcar, but somehow they all did (some had to stand -- I wonder under what rubric a PPP member is designated to sit or stand during the ride?). Beads were flying, hands were waving, the band (ensconced in the aft end of the streetcar) were playing, and they were off, in the rain, undaunted.

And thus Carnival 2009 begins, with revelry, fanfare, joy, music -- and a little rain.