After years of dreaming about it, I finally crossed out a bucket list item and played mas in Trinidad. The experience was revolutionizing. First off it never occurred to me that it could be socially acceptable to be so wotless for an extended period of time. Second I was uberly impressed by my apparently lack of need for sleep, there were days where I slept a less than 3 hours and woke up energized and ready to go.
Playing Mas in Trinidad is an event. The experience starts months before, when you begin starving yourself in hopes of that perfect nebulous body (something that alluded me this year.) When the day finally arrives, you find yourself awakening at the crack of dawn, adorning yourself with glitter, crystals, shimmers, feathers, and such. You hopefully have a hearty meal in anticipation of the long road ahead. You try and cushion your feet in the shoes that strikes the best balance between comfort and style. You put on your costume and transform into a wotless creature of the wild.
On the road, you are greeted by revelers from every background, age, diversity and physique. You find yourself secretly coveting the women whose bodies look like they came out of a Victoria secret campaign. You marvel at the 60 year old woman who matches them. And then the music starts pumping and the Johnnie starts flowing. Sweats drips from your body like a flooding river. And somehow all is right with the world. You are free to wuk, juk, strut, parade and charge onto the stage. And you do this all day long. Every now and then you find yourself looking around caught up in the surreal spectacle before you. Other times an anthem comes on and thousands of revelers freeze in frame and begin throwing wine.
Then the end comes, the ground is laden with lost feathers, jewels and other revelry. And just like that it’s all over.
And you come home and gaze upon the cold landscape of Toronto and your hit with a serious case of Carnival Tabanca. Differentology brings tears to your eyes as you remember the warm sun rising as you toast a new friend from New York. And you think what does it take to live your life like you were playing mas?
Sparkles, color, warmth, joy ?
And you think perhaps its not the end but the in between, the pause between the next carnival, the period to get my shit together, to do those 200 sit ups and lose those 10 pounds, time to find that job with more vacation, or time to move somewhere warm, time to create a life with more excitement and joy, time to finally start my MBA, time to find every opportunity to ‘jump up,’ and ‘free up’ and live my life like I’m playing mas.
Playing Mas in Trinidad is an event. The experience starts months before, when you begin starving yourself in hopes of that perfect nebulous body (something that alluded me this year.) When the day finally arrives, you find yourself awakening at the crack of dawn, adorning yourself with glitter, crystals, shimmers, feathers, and such. You hopefully have a hearty meal in anticipation of the long road ahead. You try and cushion your feet in the shoes that strikes the best balance between comfort and style. You put on your costume and transform into a wotless creature of the wild.
On the road, you are greeted by revelers from every background, age, diversity and physique. You find yourself secretly coveting the women whose bodies look like they came out of a Victoria secret campaign. You marvel at the 60 year old woman who matches them. And then the music starts pumping and the Johnnie starts flowing. Sweats drips from your body like a flooding river. And somehow all is right with the world. You are free to wuk, juk, strut, parade and charge onto the stage. And you do this all day long. Every now and then you find yourself looking around caught up in the surreal spectacle before you. Other times an anthem comes on and thousands of revelers freeze in frame and begin throwing wine.
Then the end comes, the ground is laden with lost feathers, jewels and other revelry. And just like that it’s all over.
And you come home and gaze upon the cold landscape of Toronto and your hit with a serious case of Carnival Tabanca. Differentology brings tears to your eyes as you remember the warm sun rising as you toast a new friend from New York. And you think what does it take to live your life like you were playing mas?
Sparkles, color, warmth, joy ?
And you think perhaps its not the end but the in between, the pause between the next carnival, the period to get my shit together, to do those 200 sit ups and lose those 10 pounds, time to find that job with more vacation, or time to move somewhere warm, time to create a life with more excitement and joy, time to finally start my MBA, time to find every opportunity to ‘jump up,’ and ‘free up’ and live my life like I’m playing mas.
