A few years ago, a St Lucian — recognising me as a Trinidadian in her island — jokingly said to me, “You Trinis like to party a lot” … to which I responded, “We invent fete!” That cute little declaration — with some assonance to boot — was, to me, a simple fact of Caribbean life. Trinidad & Tobago has perfected the fete, and more so the Carnival fete, and gotten it down to a science.
A former national Director of Culture once said: “the fete aesthetic rules and sometimes defines the Carnival for many here and abroad, more than the shows like Dimanche Gras and Calypso Fiesta, and even the revered calypso tents.” The still-in-use vintage tagline for Carnival — “The Greatest Show on Earth” — should perhaps be rebranded as “The Biggest Party on the Planet”.
Carnival fete production and participation now constitute an industry. The categorisation of various fete types indicate potential profitability, social profiles, and the art of the Trini to continually outdo with new ways of having fun.
Fetes can be indoor or outdoor; from sunrise or into sunset; fabulous high-end haute cuisine events, or gritty general admission brams that display island innovation and inspiration, energy, stamina, hedonism and brio. This ain’t your parent’s casual house party or lime … although those too still exist.
Why Trinidad and nowhere else? Perhaps because of robust economy supporting a vast array of event infrastructure and logistical assets, and a global recognition that this island is the mecca of Caribbean carnivals — the spiritual birthplace of New World African celebration. The carnivalesque, the theatre, the chaos, and the resistance of the mas all live here.
The commodification of fun by party planners and an eager audience is big business. In 2022, the Minister of Tourism said in Parliament, “[For] Carnival alone, the direct economic value for visitor spend is around [US$66.5 million, attracting] approximately 10% of our annual visitors to our shores.” For 2024, the Ministry reported visitor spend was “approximately US$93.3 million or TT$634 million.”
Beyond the economics of feting and the industry that has grown up around it are tangible and intangible benefits — including the lasting memories of a great Carnival fete. After mastering a vocabulary of action words — to wine and to jam up on a bumper; to lime and to fete; and (an oldie but goodie) to palance — come a menu of broad fete options: bram, blocko, jam session.
Fetes come in varieties depending on your disposable income, your stamina, your appetite for luxe lifestyles, your tolerance (or desire) for dirty dancing under sun or moon, and on your preference for land vs sea frolicking.
The traditional fete — where you pay an entrance fee, buy your own drinks and food on site, and enjoy live entertainment and DJs — has been around for decades, descended from the once massively popular public events hosted by sporting and social clubs, and by public servants at government agencies and national utilities.
There was a kind of “all o’ we is one” vibe, minimising differences of class and race while amplifying joy and fun. As the society evolved and fete specialisation and differentiation became a thing, that general admission event waned in popularity, leaving few — including the granddaddy of them all, the massive Army Fete.
“This thing is serious. It is one of Trinis’ main outlets for expressing themselves and just having a good time. We cannot take it for granted, it’s not a hustle.”
Literally, the Army is the security, so their boast of “the safest fete in Carnival” is probably true. Highlights include a big stage with all the major soca artists and DJs. Shorts and sneakers are suggested clothing (wearing camouflage is illegal in Trinidad, so be advised) for marathon partying, with an enhanced VIP section, and the time-limited option of walking with your own cooler of drinks as add-ons.
Carnival fete options evolved over the decades into two broad categories: the “cooler fete” and the all-inclusive fete. They both come in many “flavours”. The experience of trying one or preferably both is an island rite of passage for the novice party-goer and experienced inveterate reveller alike.
The cooler fete — where patrons are encouraged to bring your own drinks in a portable cooler — is a value-for-money option that has taken on new popularity over the years. Food services, sometimes via sponsors, focus on local comfort foods like the ubiquitous doubles and corn soup, pholourie, and bake-and-shark.
Cathy Ann Boucaud of J’ouvert band D’Cocoa Crew and founder of the stellar 15-year-old “cooler fete with a sea view”, Bayview Friday (held on the Friday before Carnival), says that her fetes “allow patrons unlimited choice on drinks — their own!”
Nariba Robinson, founder of Zèle Events — with its branded cooler fetes and boat cruise — notes, “This thing is serious. It is one of Trinis’ main outlets for expressing themselves and just having a good time. We cannot take it for granted, it’s not a hustle.”
Both entrepreneurs maintain that the holistic experience — cost, comfort, and casual atmosphere — matters to patrons. Both also extend the party experience onto the road, working within bands on Carnival Monday and Tuesday, blurring the line between venue-based and street parade catered parties.
At the other end of the spectrum is the all-inclusive fete — a premium, all you can eat and drink party with live entertainment. A kind of limitless aspirational experience, some all-inclusives spare no expense on food and beverages, décor, and ambience.
“A white [clothing] event has always been a classic, well sought-after, well-attended event in Trinidad,” says Collin Abraham, founder and former creative director of the white and green themed Hyatt Lime on the Wednesday before Carnival.
“In addition to taking people away from the norm, we pride ourselves with the fact that wide food variety and service are draws for locals and foreigners alike,” explains Curtis Popplewell, founder of the in-demand, exotically-located BeachHouse held on the Thursday before Carnival. His innovative team has converted sites like an abandoned swimming pool and an obsolete sugar factory into high-end party spaces.
Both men operate with the understanding that the new refined palate of Carnival party goers demands unlimited champagne and lobster, lamb chops, and chefs’ cuisine. The all-inclusive fete model is hugely popular for establishing cross-branding and business opportunities with corporate entities, as well as fundraising for educational institutions.
As we see, food and beverages, jorts and grog, become distinctive ingredients for Carnival fete success. Location and that almost indefinable feeling — vibes! — have also become decisive as branding a fete a winner or loser.
Of course, performers — soca artists, bands, and DJs with their high-energy hype men — can also make or break a Carnival fete. Mical Teja — winner of the 2024 Road March was reportedly doing almost a dozen fete appearances per day last season.
Fads and fashion come and go, but the evolved Trinidad Carnival fete is perennial. Fete brands like Soca Brainwash, Stink + Dutty, and Bacchanal Road have become exportable “must attend” events across the Caribbean, in North American cities, and even the Middle East.
Morning, noon, or night — even beyond midnight on Carnival Tuesday — the party continues. The vibes cyah done!