Issue #3 + Exclusive Street Talk: Who owns Carnival in Jamaica?

Dispatch # 60 | Join us on Wednesday 22 April at People's Wine Bar in Dalston for Wine & Words: Celebrating Issue #3 of Translator Magazine

Hello and welcome to Translator’s 60th Dispatch.

This week we have something special for you: the first digital edition of our Street Talk. Until now exclusive to our print issues, Street Talk is our hyperlocal format capturing the word on the street, the whisper on everyone’s lips, stories from around the world that rarely make it into mainstream Anglophone journalism, told by locals who live there.

The piece below is on Carnival in Jamaica, which is happening this week. Carnival needs little introduction as one of the world’s greatest parties, but its roots run deeper: in resistance to colonial rule, in a collective celebration of unity and liberation. Our writer Rebecca “Becx” Williams reports from the streets of Kingston in the days before the big event, taking the temperature of the city as it prepares to dance.

This is a taster of more Street Talks to come in Issue #3 of Translator with dispatches from Karachi, Tehran, Bangalore, Gaza and Kyoto… available to pre-order now.

Or, you could pick up a copy of the magazine and a glass of wine, in person, on Wednesday 22 April from 7-8:30pm at People’s Wine Dalston (London) for Wine & Words: Celebrating Issue #3 of Translator Magazine, an intimate evening of readings, carefully chosen wine pairings, and the pleasure of hearing great journalism read aloud. Find more info and book your tickets here.

…okay, back to this week’s exclusive Dispatch. Enjoy the read!

Who owns Carnival in Jamaica?

Women may be taking centre stage, but who does Carnival really belong to?

Carnival in Jamaica doesn’t arrive all at once. It builds slowly. Early mornings at the gym. Waiting in the salon as hair appointments run over. Sitting in the back seat of your friend’s car, where someone asks who you’re playing with this year and listens closely to the answer. Even though we all know nothing can live up to DJ Private Ryan’s 2015 mix.* People talk about payments, fittings, whether the costume will actually look like the pictures, and whether it is worth the money.

Women carry on most of these conversations. They are the ones budgeting months ahead, shaping their bodies around fittings, arranging nails, hair, makeup. They are also the ones who will wear the costumes all day, moving through heat and crowds, managing their own comfort, exposure, and confidence. Carnival lives on women’s bodies first.

And yet, most of the major Carnival bands are still owned and run by men. Men approve the final designs, set the prices, decide the themes, and ultimately shape what Carnival looks like. Women participate heavily, but ownership – financial and creative – often sits elsewhere.

This imbalance isn’t usually discussed out loud. Instead, it shows up quietly. Subtle complaints about fabric quality. Venting frustration over costumes that look good online but don’t hold up on the road. Decisions are made for women instead of with them. And so, Carnival becomes something women buy into not something they can control.

That’s why YardMas has been coming up so much in conversation this season. Not just because of the marketing, but because people can see the difference. The band is a newcomer with a more modern philosophy. It is also more affordable in a way that changes who shows up. YardMas makes room. It loosens the financial grip that has begun to dictate who gets to cross the stage and who has to watch from the pavement.

YardMas appointed female designer Anna-Lisa Guthrie to lead costume design, and the difference is tangible. The materials move better with the dancers. The designs feel more considered. There’s an understanding of how bodies actually behave over hours, not just how they appear in promotional images.

This isn’t about women being naturally more aesthetic or considered designers. The point of the matter is having a designer who understands what it is like to wear costumes, pay for them, and live in them. Things that are easy to overlook from a distance. Where straps strain. Where wire irritates. How weight shifts as the day goes on. These details matter when your body is the site of celebration.

On the streets, women talk about bands the way they talk about service providers they trust – tailors, hairdressers, nail techs. Who listens. Who doesn’t. Who respects their customers. Carnival, stripped of spectacle, is a transaction as much as it is a celebration. Money changes hands. Labour is performed. Visibility is negotiated. When women make up the majority of consumers, performers, and cultural labourers, but are excluded from ownership and decision-making, participation starts to look like extraction.

The culture depends on women, but power does not usually circulate back to them. As Carnival approaches, this conversation will keep surfacing. In fittings. In group chats. In post-fete discussions about what worked and what didn’t. Carnival hasn’t reached the road yet, but people are already paying attention – not just to the costumes, but to who is shaping the experience, and who is being asked to carry it.

Carnival is often described as freedom. But freedom still has structure. Someone gets to decide the terms. And more women are starting to ask whether participation is enough, or whether ownership should finally be part of the celebration too.

– Rebecca “Becx” Williams

*DJ Private Ryan (Ryan Alexander) is a world-renowned Trinidadian DJ, producer, and event curator celebrated for elevating Soca (”soul of calypso”) and Caribbean music globally. As the creator of the “Soca Brainwash” event brand, he is known for his versatile, high-energy mixes blending soca, dancehall, and Afrobeat.

Pre-order a copy of Issue #3 here to read more Street Talks from Karachi, Tehran, Bangalore, Gaza and Kyoto.

In case you missed it…

On Wednesday April 15 come along to the first in a series of events entitled The World Overheard held in central London in collaboration with Ibraaz: The World Overheard 1: Newsrooms in Exile

The first in our series of conversations about journalism, translation and power looks at the growing phenomenon of journalists and non-fiction writers (even whole newsrooms) forced into exile from their home countries, sometimes continuing as journalists and writers in exile, sometimes finding new ways to engage.

To explore this increasingly important theme from different angles, we’re bringing together journalists and writers from around the world - Iran, Afghanistan, El Salvador, Hong Kong, Egypt and Eritrea - to talk from personal experience on what it means to be forced into exile, how it is changing the informational and civic landscape, how displaced media can sustain community and create new forms of association, and the challenging situation faced by writers and journalists even in their supposed country of refuge.

Speakers include Alaa Abd el-Fattah and Lotfullah Najafizada joining remotely, and Ricardo Avelar, Vanessa Tsehaye, Negin Shiraghaei, and Galileo Cheng participating in person. The panel is moderated by Charles Emmerson, editor of Translator.

Tickets are free but must be reserved via this link. We hope to see you there.

That’s all for now – we hope you’ve enjoyed the read. Keep an eye out for our next Dispatch of summaries this time next week!

The Translator team