It’s kind of difficult for me to attempt to describe what the Notting Hill Carnival was like earlier today. It was a complete and utter attack on all of my senses. I could feel the bass drum of the music reverberating throughout my body. I could smell the cooking smoke coming from the food-covered oil-drums-turned-grills. I could taste the spicy, tangy, smoky flavors of my amazing jerk chicken lunch. I could see the countless Jamaican and Trinidadian flags, Bob Marley posters, brightly colored clothing, vividly dyed pink-and-blue hair, and people of every race, religion, age, and size.
I realize that most of the people I saw at the carnival are probably tourists. I know that I heard at least four or five different languages, but I don’t think that it took away from the experience of the festival very much. Yes, there were places where you could buy “Imported Jamaican whistles” and Notting Hill Carnival 2009 t-shirts (probably both imported from China…), but the vendors in the center of it all seemed to be, to my unknowing eyes, pretty authentic. Salt fish, jerk chicken, curry goat, and plantains featured heavily on almost every food stall’s menu. Granted, there was the occasional Piccadilly Whip ice cream van and crepe booth, but in this day-and-age, I think that most everyone expects to be able to buy a soft-serve cone at an outdoor festival!
The thing that impressed me most about the carnival was how far things have come. When this festival started, it was a protest against the Police force for randomly stopping and searching young black men for drugs and other illegal substances. Apparently the Notting Hill Carnival has been so controversial between the Afro-Caribbean population and the Metropolitan Police that the bobbies tried to have it shut down until just a few years ago. Today I saw a large number of Police attendance, albeit they were doing their jobs, but they seemed to be having a good time. I saw one officer who looked like he’d been in the force when riots were at an all-time-high bobbing his head and swaying his hips to the infectiously happy music. Others were only too happy to oblige tourists by posing for pictures and allowing them to pet their horses. Despite the large number of tourists, I think that this was the best example of cooperation and the new ethnically diverse English identity I’ve seen since I’ve been in London. Thoughts?
