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ARTICLES & ESSAYS
Dance for a Chicken: The Cajun Mardi Gras
By Pat Mire
Mardi Gras celebrations assume
the shape of a community and immediately reflect the strong conservative
and innovative spirit needed for a healthy society. One Mardi
Gras tradition which is often misunderstood and usually profoundly
affects the sensibilities of outsiders is the rural Mardi Gras
run of Southwest Louisiana prairies and bordering woodlands.
The Mamou run has been extensively documented and reported to
the public which has created the false impression that all runs
are similar. Recent research has revealed that while there are
similarities, in reality Mardi Gras traditions vary from community
to community.
Video Player
Excerpt, Zydeco. Music and Mardi Gras are at the heart of both Creole and Cajun rural culture in Louisiana. This clip presents a glimpse into this vibrant world, showing music performances and a Creole Mardi Gras traditional ritual. The music performances feature an elaborate fiddle tune and also display the pulsing rhythms of a live performance at a dance hall. The Mardi Gras gathering on the dusty roads culminates to the chasing of a chicken for the gumbo pot. Produced and directed by Nicholas R. Spitzer, 1981.
Many aspects of the Mardi
Gras celebration in L'Anse Maigre, a community north of Eunice
are typical of other communities. Cultural Catholicism still
binds the community together, and collecting ingredients for
a communal gumbo remains central to their run. They work hard
all year, but they also celebrate life abundantly because their
faith teaches them that life has been redeemed and Mardi Gras
day provides the opportunity to embrace the totality of human
life. Led by a flag-bearing capitaine, this colorful and noisy
procession of masked and costumed men on horses and wagons go
from house to house in the countryside asking for charity in
return for a performance of dancing and buffoonery. The participants
are earnestly employed chasing chickens, the most valued offering,
and they pride themselves on their ability to collect enough
"live chickens" to feed the entire community "free
of charge."
At an organizational meeting
before Mardi Gras, Wendell Manuel instructs the group, "when
you get to a man's house . . . get off that horse and dance for
him and beg to him . . . . Do whatever you have to do to get
his chickens or his sausage or his rice or his money . . . .
Anything we can do to get the goods for the supper." Mardi
Gras is after all a redistribution of wealth and beneath its
many layers of exotic behavior lies a serious message of survival
which goes back to pre-Christian festivals and ancient rites
of passage.
During this festival where
everyone gives and everyone receives, which supports the egalitarian
values of Cajun culture, humanity's story of sharing is told
over and over in the course of the day. In one of mankind's oldest
games of trying to fool your closest neighbors and best friends,
these masked beggars symbolize anyone who may be hungry. The
idea is that when they visit someone, those visited should share.
Theft is part of the tension in the drama of this ritual play,
but has no problem turning into "enforced charity"
when the runners feel that the homeowner is not giving enough.
Like many other small communities
on the prairie, L'Anse Maigre is for the most part socially unpretentious
and its members do not indulge in conspicuous consumption. They
dress and talk alike, live in modest dwellings, most drive pick-up
trucks, and all know each other and treat each other the same,
regardless of economic circumstances. Thus, it is difficult for
an outsider to recognize who is expected to give more or less
on Mardi Gras day. It is no wonder why outside image makers,
journalists, and even some researchers-who lack evidence about
how the community functions the rest of the year and are invading
insider ritual space-have blurred vision and miss important details.
They are often not well acquainted with the larger culture's
subtleties and survival strategies much less the varying degrees
of interdependence from one neighborhood to the next, so they
misinform the public by consistently reporting on the crust while
missing the pie filling completely.
Two distinctly different
questing songs exist with numerous variations. Some communities
require the runners to sing their version of the song in French,
which discourages outsider participation. But other runs encourage
outsider participation. It is amusing to watch an outsider wearing
a mask imitating locals trying to conceal their identity when
no one would recognize them if they participated without masks.
All successful runs have
a core group of key players who have internalized the game's
rules and know instinctively what to do and how far they can
push the boundaries that create the tension necessary to propel
this disorderly contrivance towards its appeal for communal equity.
A couple of runs have almost turned into trail rides and seem
more interested in returning to town on time for scheduled parades
than fulfilling the event's original mission. One run in particular
lost its meaning when their culturally dysfunctional capitaine
passed up a homeowner standing in his yard with chicken in hand
which is an inconceivable act to most communities.
The Tee Mamou's run was not
interrupted during World War II as it was in most other communities
and Mamou has been credited with the first revived run, but actually
six Eunice men and capitaine Tobert Frugé reassembled
in 1946. Recently it has been found that other communities, Oberlin
for example, began running again after a short hiatus of only
two or three years which hardly constitutes a revival. Women
in Eunice had their own separate Mardi Gras run throughout the
1950s and elders in several communities recount stories of children's
runs as far back as memory goes.
The Tee Mamou group has maintained
aspects of a very old begging tradition and uses a gesture of
pointing to the open palm, which centuries ago may have distinguished
carnival beggars in Western Europe from another group of beggars
known as the "bashful poor." Recent discovery and observation
of the Hathaway Mardi Gras reveals similar and possibly older
traditions. They have what they refer to as "our beggars"
who wield rolled burlap whips leading the procession with the
capitaine. The whipping traditions have been preserved along
isolated pockets of the Cajun prairie's cultural edge west of
Highway 13. Whipping has its origins in the pre-Christian festival
of the Lupercalia or the wolf festival which was thought to promote
fertility. Hathaway's ritual beggars are blackfaced and are the
first to approach a house where they dismount from their horses
and confront the homeowners on their knees with their hats in
their hands and genuinely petition resident members for charity.
This appears to be a vestige of the poor man's carnival of the
Middle Ages and may even have roots in the most widely celebrated
festival of the Roman Calendar, the Saturnalia, where people
masqueraded and blackened their faces.
Outside reporters invariably
focus on the issues of racism, sexuality, and alcohol. It is
important that people not misunderstand this as a racial issue.
Reversing social order and pretending to be someone else go much
farther back than our immediate roots of racism in the south.
Still today, Black Creoles frequently whiten their faces and
the earliest illustrations of African and Caribbean carnival
include Blacks in white face. Related to this is the fact that
most older Cajun runners identify themselves with the sauvage,
which is the Cajun French term for Native American. This is their
version of l'homme sauvage or the wildman in European tradition.
Evidence includes the traditional Cajun costume which from shoulder
to ankle is clearly Native American and the many masks that bear
a striking resemblance to illustrations of the wildman. Concerning
alcohol, many people forget that Mardi Gras is based on rites
of passage that have for centuries used mind-altering drugs which
loosens inhibitions and allows participants to "play the
other."
Communities preoccupied with
preserving cultural continuity in costume provide the opportunity
to walk back in time, but have eliminated to some measure a core
part of Mardi Gras: its ability to respond to current issues.
In Eunice and Basile, parodying contemporary events is important
and the separation of sexes is not. The social upheaval nature
of Mardi Gras has always presented powerful commentary from the
populace. There were effigies of Saddam Hussein and George Bush
along the side of modern versions of old themes like the French
paillasse (strawman) and the vieille femme (old woman) on the
1991 Eunice run. Two strong statements indicated the frustration
local people felt during the Gulf War. A life-size dummy of Hussein
entitled "So Damn Insane" hung by the neck with a can
of Bush beer in his back pocket and was repeatedly assaulted.
Another truck displayed Hussein's decapitated head with a rooster
(an old Carnival symbol of bravery and male sexuality) standing
over him in triumph.
One of the best visual examples
of the death and regeneration factor associated with Mardi Gras
is the enacting of a birth complete with a midwife by men dressed
as women, particularly the vieille femme. Another one is the
"Dead Man Revived" of the Tee-Mamou run in which the
homeowner shoots (with blanks) a participant out of a tree. The
"dead man" is then revived by pouring beer into his
mouth. Something very similar to this occurred on the steps of
the cathedral during Medieval times.
But possibly the most astounding
folk drama happens in Hathaway. Here participant bonding and
brotherhood is eminently exhibited when they are unsympathetically
flogged by the beggars. Flogging is precipitated by their skipping
a verse in the song, acting mischievously (which is expected
of them), or when the homeowner pays to have them whipped. This
forces the capitaine to bring false charges on his troop and
to order them punished. This is reminiscent of Saturnalia's burlesque
king who gave inane orders to his court of noblemen. Loud cries
of "I'm looking for some help" and "Where's my
brother?" from the accused as they are ordered to lay face
down and take lashings, prompt innocent participants to crawl
over them and relieve their comrades' sufferances by receiving
the lashes themselves. This calls to mind the flagellations during
Medieval times used for the atonement of sins and to purify the
community.
The Eunice and Tee-Mamou
Iota Mardi Gras celebrations are both excellent examples of their
respective towns coming together to demonstrate community pride
and vitality in their traditions. Both have planned brilliant
strategies to accommodate the flood of tourists and neighbors
which they have courted. The grand procession returns to spirited
crowds of revelers to celebrate until midnight when Lent begins
and many of Mardi Gras' most audacious participants valiantly
turn and follow Christ.
This article first appeared
in the 1992 Louisiana Folklife Festival booklet. Pat Mire is
a filmmaker in Eunice. This article draws upon research conducted
during a three-year collaborative effort by Dr. Barry Jean Ancelet,
Ray Brassieur, Dr. Carl Lindahl, Pat Mire, Maida Owens, and Dr.
Carolyn Ware. This collaboration has fueled other research projects
including a book on the rural Mardi Gras by Ancelet and Lindahl
and a book on the women's rural Mardi Gras by Ware. Pat Mire and Maida Owens
collaborated to produce and research the video documentary, Dance
for a Chicken: The Cajun Mardi Gras.
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