Visitors and residents of all ethnicities and ages have begun to flood the downtown core of Toronto. Along Dufferin Street there are vendors and in the air are melodic notes of "getchya cold what-ah" in a patois accent. As the sweat drips down the ice cold water bottles and the sun beats down on thousands of people, it rings a familiar sense of the Caribbean. Not bad for the Caribana parade huh?


Some of the items on display include miniature flags, gigantic banners, key chains and other illustrious goods for sale. They lead the way to the mouth of the Exhibition; this is where you get hints as to where the music is coming from.



It's Saturday, the first day of August, and the sun is heating up the spiciest festival of 2009 in Toronto. The Ex is consumed with loads of energy bouncing off people. A swarm of people is moving toward the south end of the park, the core of where the parade is to begin.



There is a barricade head on in front of the parade. 



"I would rather be on that side," says Natishaw Ali, matter-of-factly. "We come because it's our culture," she adds almost as if pleading. Ali is visiting from Calgary and is in attendance with members of her ashram (temple).

 



Some people are making the most out of the music showcasing their dance skills despite the fence. Costumed dancers are already swimming down the street. A hype man aims to challenge the dancers to keep pace with the music. The call and response nature of some of the soca music playing helps encourage revelers to move their body.

It's clear to see the costume designs have a lot of thought put into them. It's hard to understand why everything seems so scattered. The dancers seem to randomly take time outs and are a little too casual at times almost as if no one is there looking at them. 



The paved roads along the park are directing hungry stomachs toward the smell of food. The wind is carrying all the smell of curried mango, roast beef, fried plantain, potato ball and other delights brewing, making mouths water.



A little further toward the shade, a group is having a limbo contest and keeping entertained. Hands play the drums as chants of "how low can you go" stir up the contestants. Excitement beams off the faces of the children looking on. While some are biking around this long street, others are walking; families have tents and lawn chairs and look quite comfortable.



"I come for the girls. One thing I hate is cops," declares Marcus, 21, who also comes because he is Trini.



One officer defends the heavy police presence.



"I just don't like when people try to bring other agendas here," he says. "There's a few people, not even a handful, who would spoil it for everyone else. I'm not sure how many officers we have on duty. There are a lot of plain clothed officers." 

It's growing late for some while other groups are just getting things started. 

"Few people know the origin of Caribana was structured by the emancipated slaves of the Caribbean to mock the Europeans... Google it," explains Mertu, not sounding bitter at all. "There's more to be celebrated about other than the obvious observations. There is energy to this that we as Caribbean people bring to this event. We have to remember so no one exploits us for it.

"

Some are here in anticipation of the new floats and new costumes, some to dance and have a good time. Some are here just to bask in the culture. One thing is guaranteed here: energy. Caribana is energy. The credit for that goes to a lot of people. The dancers, costume designers, vendors, DJs, the City of Toronto and all the lovely people who come from all over the world to attend one of Toronto, Canada's finest tuned festivals.

Words By: Sanjay Misra + Photos By: Adrian McKenzie