The second and last day of Carnival is Carnival Tuesday. Originally we weren’t planning on doing anything that day, but I found out that mud mas is Carnival Tuesday and man, I really wanted to do it. My wonderful sister-in-law arranged it for us, finding a place we could go that would allow us to pay on the spot. They told us what time we could arrive, and we went just a little under an hour late (because nothing in Tobago runs on time), to make sure we got spots.

We were dropped off since the parade route would end within walking distance of the family compound. This meant we didn’t have an easy way to get home again, and we were Very, Very, Early.

We waited for hours in a large, grassy enclosure with six barrels of mud in the center, a DJ playing, and a little stand selling doubles.We watched our cell batteries drain down. We took naps. We ate doubles. And slowly, people trickled in. Not many, though. The DJ kept on talking about the people outside. I thought he was just trying to recruit people in the neighborhood to join us.

When we decided to leave to take a walk up and down the road to stretch our legs, we discovered the road surrounding the area where mud mas was stepping off was completely packed with people who intended to come with us – but had no intention of paying to come in and smear mud on themselves.

Finally, just after the sun set, they gave us the go-ahead to put on the mud. It smelled bad, and I probably put the most on, because when do you ever have an opportunity to smear mud all over yourself? Never.

We headed up to the road to where the truck was and joined the huge crowd already gathered there. Police officers were there trying to clear the road. Traffic on the narrow road was completely blocked.

Finally, we got started. The crowds of people flooded into the street behind the truck as it headed down the hill. We were able to look back where we’d come from and see how truly enormous the group of people was.A young woman moved past me, grinning at me and smearing more mud on my shoulder. The DJ expertly built suspense as we moved down toward town. There was so much good energy in the air. It felt amazing to be part of such a huge group. I’m a people watcher, and were there ever people to watch.

There were fantastic outfits and costumes, including one person wearing a hazmat suit, and two guys sitting on a guardrail at the side of the road completely covered in mud from head to toe. A reminder of the Corona virus in the news, many people were wearing cloth masks. (I wrote this right after Carnival, and before Coronavirus became what it is now.) Mixed in with muddy folks were people with spotlessly white shirts and fresh hair.

I could have stayed there in the middle of the crowd forever. There was a clear, vibrant energy in it, an air of fun and excitement.

After we got close to the end of the route, we walked home, quickly showered and changed, and brought Two and Three back down so they could be a part of it, too. We stayed till just after 11 p.m.

None of us feel like we need to do mud mas with actual mud again. It was fun, but it was also crusty and gross. Instead, we’d pay the fee to the mud mas guys to support local business, then wait with everyone else at the top of the hill, ready to flow down with the stream of humanity, enjoying the music and the good vibes.

We had no idea at the time just how special that night was, but now I treasure the feeling of unity we experienced being packed in with so many other people, everyone brimming with joy and excitement.

This post is the third in a series. Here are Jouvert and Carnival Monday.

All Photo Credits, Kimona Paramour Photography (that’s my amazing sister-in-law).