JENSEN LA VENDE

Se­nior Re­porter

jensen.lavende@guardian.co.tt

Trinidad and To­ba­go’s 64th In­de­pen­dence Day cel­e­bra­tions came alive with the sights, sounds and en­er­gy of the na­tion’s cul­tur­al her­itage, as Red Dev­ils, Moko Jumbies, tas­sa drum­mers, chut­ney dancers, Jab Jab, a Chi­nese cul­tur­al troupe and steel­pan brought a car­ni­val-like at­mos­phere to the mil­i­tary pa­rade.

The colour­ful cul­tur­al show­case was one of two ma­jor ad­di­tions to this year’s In­de­pen­dence Day mil­i­tary pa­rade and dis­play, which made its re­turn af­ter last year’s event was can­celled due to na­tion­al se­cu­ri­ty con­cerns. The oth­er was a change in venue that drew mixed re­ac­tions from spec­ta­tors.

The tra­di­tion­al mil­i­tary dis­play, usu­al­ly staged near the North and Grand Stands of the Queen’s Park Sa­van­nah, was moved to the north­ern end of the Sa­van­nah op­po­site Pres­i­dent’s House. The cul­tur­al show­case fol­lowed the uni­formed con­tin­gents along the pa­rade route.

While the cul­tur­al dis­play was warm­ly re­ceived, the re­lo­ca­tion of the pa­rade ground proved less pop­u­lar with some spec­ta­tors.

For long­time spec­ta­tor Denise Grap­pie, the new arrange­ment was the least en­joy­able in the 45 years she has at­tend­ed the event.

“It is the worst arrange­ment I have seen af­ter 45 years. The pa­rade it­self was in the mid­dle of the Sa­van­nah; they on­ly had it for dig­ni­taries. They had yuh walk­ing right around the Sa­van­nah. Yuh can­not see any­thing. Yuh stand on the out­side of the field on the road it­self. So the pa­rade was the worst be­cause the ma­jor­i­ty of the peo­ple were on the out­side.”

At the pa­rade ground, dig­ni­taries were po­si­tioned far from the pub­lic. As in pre­vi­ous years, cov­ered seat­ing was pro­vid­ed for both in­vit­ed guests and spec­ta­tors, with tents erect­ed over the bleach­ers.

Among the dig­ni­taries were Chief Jus­tice Ron­nie Boodoos­ingh, Prime Min­is­ter Kam­la Per­sad-Bisses­sar and mem­bers of her Cab­i­net.

Op­po­si­tion MPs were al­so in at­ten­dance, rub­bing shoul­ders with their po­lit­i­cal ri­vals in a rare show of uni­ty, if on­ly for a day.

To the left of the po­lit­i­cal lead­ers sat the heads of the pro­tec­tive ser­vices, in­clud­ing Po­lice Com­mis­sion­er Al­lis­ter Gue­var­ro and his three deputies, as well as act­ing Pris­ons Com­mis­sion­er Elvin Scant­er­bury.

Un­like pre­vi­ous years, when spec­ta­tors were of­ten with­in arm’s length of the coun­try’s lead­er­ship, this year’s arrange­ment cre­at­ed a no­tice­able di­vide be­tween the pub­lic and of­fi­cials. Sep­a­rat­ing them were the joint Po­lice Ser­vice and Prison Ser­vice K9 Units, the Po­lice Mount­ed Branch, armed and un­armed per­son­nel oc­cu­py­ing the pa­rade square, and more than 100 me­tres of open space.

De­spite the dis­tance, the crowd’s cheers for Pres­i­dent Chris­tine Kan­ga­loo could still be heard when her ar­rival was an­nounced.

Spec­ta­tors al­so ap­plaud­ed the K9 units, a peren­ni­al crowd favourite, as well as the ve­hi­cles and air­craft, with the loud­est re­ac­tion re­served for a plane that flew fright­en­ing­ly low.

There were al­so laughs on both sides of the pa­rade ground when the an­nounc­er en­cour­aged spec­ta­tors to shout “Fire!” in uni­son af­ter the Fire Ser­vice com­plet­ed its dri­ve-past.

Along the pa­rade route, how­ev­er, one pop­u­lar tra­di­tion was no­tably ab­sent. Fire ten­ders did not spray wa­ter on spec­ta­tors as Iw­er George’s Wa­ter played, a fea­ture many have come to ex­pect dur­ing In­de­pen­dence Day cel­e­bra­tions.

How­ev­er, the car­ni­val-in­spired cul­tur­al pre­sen­ta­tion quick­ly be­came a crowd favourite.

Spec­ta­tor Richard Ramjohn de­scribed it as an un­ex­pect­ed but wel­come ad­di­tion.

“Well, I was ac­tu­al­ly to­tal­ly sur­prised when I saw what was com­ing out be­cause it typ­i­cal­ly ends with the equip­ment and so on, and when yuh saw this, it raised all meh pores. It is a won­der­ful ad­di­tion be­cause it shows every­thing that we have and what Trinidad and To­ba­go is. I re­al­ly love it, re­al­ly ap­pre­ci­ate it, well done!”

The added cul­tur­al com­po­nent did lit­tle to dis­tract from the en­tre­pre­neur­ial ac­tiv­i­ty that tra­di­tion­al­ly sur­rounds the event. Cries of “Cold in d Ice” com­pet­ed with sirens, mu­sic trucks and steel­pan rhythms, while ven­dors sell­ing na­tion­al flags made brisk busi­ness.

For the par­tic­i­pants them­selves, the changes to the for­mat mat­tered lit­tle.

Whether stand­ing for ex­tend­ed pe­ri­ods un­der the blaz­ing sun on the pa­rade square, where sev­er­al peo­ple faint­ed from the heat, or march­ing along the route, they re­mained fo­cused on the task at hand.