INTRO TO GWO' KA: GUADELOUPE'S TRADITIONAL FOLK MUSIC (PHOTO ESSAY)

The holidays in Guadeloupe represent a blending of the religious with the profane. 95 percent of the population is Catholic, and going to church is a popular Sunday activity. Throughout the Christmas, Carnival, and Easter season, the church features prominently in the Guadeloupean landscape, with church bells ringing each hour of the day.

I stay for at least a couple months each year in a small apartment in Gosier, a small, but bustling beach town on Guadeloupe's south coast (on Grand-Terre). The apartment is less than a minute walk from a park where drummers, singers, and other musicians practice with their bands for the weeks before Christmas and then through Carnival. Wrapping up a busy day of work or adventure, I'll often head through the park, then down a gentle slope to one of my favorite beaches in Guadeloupe (Plage de la Datcha) for an evening swim.

The music fills my ears as I swim, and occasionally, dancers will flood the beach. Although men will often emit a comment on my "beauty," it's a far cry from the catcalling I experience back in New York City, and I feel very safe being on my own at the beach, even after the sun goes down. It helps that Plage de la Datcha has a spotlight shining over one end of the beach, and there are usually at least a couple other swimmers who also enjoy an evening dip. Exhilarated after my swim, I often pick up a bokit (a delicious Guadeloupean sandwich) from one of the many street food stands and then head back to the park to eat and watch the drummers.

Over the years, I've met many amazing gwo' ka musicians and have learned how to make some of their drums. On my last visit, I took a drumming class, and am excited to head back to become a proper gwo' ka drumming student! More on all of this later. For now, here are just a few Carnival photos that I've taken on some of my trips as well as a brief (very brief!) history of gwo' ka.

Gwo' ka, which means "big drum" in Créole, is a major Guadeloupean drumming style first developed during the period of African enslavement in the 18th century.

At least one gwo' ka Carnival band represents each town or city in Guadeloupe. Bands practice year-round and incorporate complicated rhythms and costumes that signify the traditions of each town. The costumes my friends wear in Gosier, for example, are completely different from the ones my friends wear in Ste. Rose.

In the weeks preceding Christmas and carrying through Carnival to Easter, the rich sounding of conch shells blends with the crowing of roosters first thing in the morning, and the islands are abuzz with the beating of drums until long after sundown. Long before I ever took a lesson, I became familiar with a few of the rhythms: boom-boom-ba-da-boom-BOOM.

The largest drum, the boula, plays the central bombastic rhythm while the smaller markeurs accompany singers and dancers who tell folk stories of the islands.

Seven Gwo ka drumming patterns tell the folk stories of Guadeloupe and allow musicians to add improvisations. The Lewok, for example, is a rhythm of war that represents slave rebellions against plantations, while the Mindé, a rhythm borrowed from the Congo people, celebrates life on the islands post-abolition.

Most of the boys in Guadeloupe learn one or the other of these instruments at a very early age. This is certainly true for the children of my friends on the island - at every party, young and old alike play gwo' ka. Older generations, however, fear that many kids today are losing their enthusiasm for learning traditional Guadeloupean folk music.

Of course, as a feminist, I'd love to see more women drummers, although I'll admit that seeing women dancers is thrilling: as the men drum, the women dance, and it's impossible not to join them.

#gwoka #music #festivals #Carnival