Big hat, bigger talk. The Robber’s speeches are long. His patience is short.
A legend of old Carnival, famous for “robber talk”, the grand boastful speeches with roots in West African storytelling.
Crisp whites and a rolling step. The Sailor dances his band down the avenue.
Started over a century ago when masqueraders mimicked visiting naval crews, then dressed the uniform up until it outshone the fleet.
Cool water on a hot road. Aqua flows through the streets and the crowd follows.
Fancy mas in ocean colours. Carnival has always borrowed from the sea that surrounds the island.
Painted blue, wings out, full of trouble. Where Blue Devil passes, the road remembers.
Paramin’s own devil mas, painted head to toe in blue, out at J’ouvert demanding a dollar to let you pass.
Every road is a canvas. Painter’s band leaves the streets dripping in colour.
Straight out of J’ouvert morning, where paint, mud and powder cover everybody before the sun comes up.
Horns up, grin on. The devil of the road plays rough and grows fast.
Old-time devil mas whose name is patois for “diable”, devil twice over. Jab Jabs have cracked whips through Carnival since the 1800s.
Full fancy mas in every colour at once. You’ll see Rainbow’s band before you hear it.
Born of pretty mas, the feathers-and-gems bands that turned Carnival Tuesday into a moving wall of colour.
Leaves in his crown and the whole jungle in his step. Arms up, band behind.
From the fancy bands’ animal kingdoms. Kings, beasts and birds have ruled Carnival presentations for generations.