As we pass Livingston, we are told about the upcoming Garifuna-festival, so why not, we think, let’s stay a bit. The atlantic shores of Guatemala were also settled by the Garinagu way back, which makes Livingston the only town in the country where every window plays reggae, the majority of the population is black and everyone is a musical talent. This became obvious at once when the small girl, busy frying potatoes in the street gave us such a improvisation of a well-known song that every non-local person turned around to look where does this voice come from.
This festival is the Garifuna Settlement Day here, a different day at every Garifuna village along the coast. The program is similar everywhere, a group of locals decorate some canoes and re-enact the flight, arrival and first years of life of their ancestors. After this the ceremonial procession heads towards the church. In front of the stern eyes of Catholic saints the happy crowd then sings and dances together with the priest and offers gifts of bread and fruits towards the altar. The big experience is not all this, but the music. There are no instruments, only a few drums and shakers, but still, everyone starts and stops singing at exactly the same moment. The happy gospel spills out onto the street, crystal clear like som studio recording. Who would have thought that a clerical, slow Catholic hymn can be sung jazz-style, improvised by a choir in arms swaying to and fro? The mentality of Garifuna culture seeped into the church as well, while at home we are used to wearing long pants and shirts for Sunday church, here the standard dress is Bermuda shorts, T-shirt, mini-skirt and of course bare feet. But still, no-one was present just because society, family or the community expected it from them. They attended mass for the sheer fun of it.