Carnaval: Touloulou Dancing

Hello!

So I've experienced something rather particular; namely, the Guyanese Carnival!

Now, when you hear carnival you usually think something along the lines of sexy bikini-wearing Brazilians, right? – WRONG! Ok, so erase that image. In Guiana, since it's extremely cold most of the time (ha!) instead of wearing bikini's at the carnival, you cover up every inch of skin, if not with one layer then with two. And I mean everything, hands, face, neck, feet... all of it! So what is it covered by you may ask. If your imagination is vivacious enough you may be able to conjure up a vague image of what a Touloulou looks like. My best aid would be to think of the word 'dress' together with glitter, colour, bright, exuberant and just-go-for-it, and put it all in a blender. Result:  Touloulou.

Covered means, covered. And 'flashy' has taken on a whole new level of meaning for me.

So, together with some of Anthony's lady-colleagues, we set out to conquer Polina, the Touloulou specialized club in Cayenne. This is what we mustered up. With my very modest knowledge of Touloulou-ing, I think we look pretty fantastic!

I am second from the left in the blue and green Chinese-inspired mish-mash of a dress. I really did enjoy my very elegant hat. Rather fabulous. However, this dress should come with a huge warning-tag if you are planning on wearing it in Guyane. It gets ridiculously hot under there. Soaking hot.

Not an inch of skin can be shown, because ... the point of the Touloulou is to be and remain completely unknown throughout the night. Now, here is where it gets interesting. You literally have to re-invent yourself in order to go completely incognito. You ought to change your voice, the way you walk, how you behave and generally try to remain unknown to the rest of your male company. Their challenge is to recognize the ladies – not such an easy task considering we even covered the skin next to our eyes in black make-up so our skin colour wouldn't show.

It is also rather interesting to note that the Touloulou's are to be considered as Queens for the night – which, of course, I relished in. If for example, you get thirsty you may say 'Touloulou soif!' (Touloulou thirsty!) where your genteel cavalier is then obliged to provide you with a refreshment. However, I actually spent the night pretty much mute because I didn't want to make myself known at all, not to mention my French not being top-notch yet. Because we are queens for the night, the men are actually not allowed to touch you before you touch them. This means that the guys have to wait to be selected by a Touloulou in order to dance. He is also not allowed to deny a Touloulou. If she takes him by the hand and leads him to the dance floor, he must simply... get his groove on.

So, the dancing is the point of the night. It is an extremely close-contact type of affair and whilst it is not hugely complicated, the moves are very repetitive (and sensuous.. if you can master them). Your top half of the body is not meant to move, whereas your hips are meant to do either a three-beat or four-beat eight-shape, depending on the song tempo. So, it really is all in the hips! Now, I like to think I'm a pretty good dancer and I've got the booty for this type of thing, but sheesh! It was actually really difficult. No joke. Also, add the fact that you feel as if you're about 100 degrees celsius and so is the person trying desperately to get even closer to you. Like I said, QUITE the experience. The picture below is a picture from the club we went to.

The fun thing about this night was of course being completely unrecognizable. You can stand looking at the dance floor and be just a meter away from your man when he has no idea you are even in the room. Simply thrilling!