4 December 2009
Story and photography by Jonathan Jackson
(note: Originally published in HECHO magazine August 2009)
Cotton Tree
The basketball court has always been a popular gathering place. During the day kids run around playing games and laughing on it; in the evenings young people play basketball and soccer there; families use it as a place to barbecue on the weekends and late at night druggies stagger around it like the walking dead. Tonight though, the sun has gone down and the court is full of life; hundreds of residents and visitors have packed the area to celebrate the final day of May, the final day of Palo de Mayo.
A maypole tree decorated with red, yellow, blue and green ribbons stands tall in the middle of the court. People of all ages and sizes dance around it as loud reggae music and the smell of traditional coast cooking fill the air. The night is young and so are the two voices booming through the speakers, giving a new generation’s take on the music of maypole. “Mayo Ya! Palo de Mayo! Mayo Ya!” goes the chorus of a hip-hop meets reggae song from Bluefields artists Vatos Locos. The duo came up with the track earlier that afternoon and as they debut it with the accompaniment of two scantily clad teenage back up dancers, the crowd pushes forward for a better look.
‘Tululu’ and Tradition
The Palo de Mayo celebration, which lasts all of May, has been part of Nicaraguan culture for hundreds of years, and while there are many theories concerning how and when it first originated – most agreeing on a mixture of European traditions and pagan rituals – there is no doubt that the festival has evolved over the years, influenced by the diverse culture, music and people of the Atlantic Coast. Tonight is an opportunity to party, dance and spend time with friends; and in Bluefields you get the feeling that these types of opportunities are always taken advantage of.
At 10pm, the DJ puts on a song familiar to all in attendance, the traditional song of the final night of May, ‘Tululu.’ Participants stand across from each other, holding up their arms to form an arch. As the lyrics request, “Tu lu lu lu pass anda, gial an buay de pass anda,” couples pass through the tunnel of arms and once on the other side, become part of it, standing across from each other and raising their hands together. This Tululu procession begins making its way through the streets and neighborhoods of Bluefields heading for the city’s other original barrio.
Old Bank
The Mighty Blue band is playing some upbeat traditional Palo de Mayo music from underneath a canopy on a large wooden stage at the top of a hill in Old Bank. Looking out, the only member of the audience is a lonely looking maypole tree thrashing about violently in the wind and rain that is beating down, yet the band is jamming as if they are playing to a full house. A full town is more like it. At the bottom of the hill the procession from Cotton Tree has just rounded the corner and is making its way up the hill to their destination. They are wet, muddy, dancing, and happy. Their maypole tree sways back and forth above the crowd, seemingly eager to meet up with its mate who has been waiting anxiously.
As the live music plays through the night, the only thing hitting harder than the drums is the rain, but nobody in the crowd seems to mind. Palo de Mayo started as a celebration of the beginning of the rainy season, so it is only fitting that the guest of honor has as much fun as everybody else.
Midnight rolls around and Old Bank has begun to calm down. The crowd is smaller, the rain is gone and the party is close to over. It’s the perfect time to partake in a more modern Bluefields tradition – the late night taxi procession from Old Bank to the club Four Brothers.
