I arrived at the Carenage — Grenada’s historic waterfront in the capital city — around 4:30 a.m. on J’ouvert morning, ready to “play Jab.” The streets were still cloaked in darkness, but the energy was already building. People appeared one by one or in groups, their bodies blackened from head to toe, merging into a tide of beautiful Blackness. Some carried chains, others horns, and others buckets of oil. The air smelled like charcoal mixed with old oil. Then came the sound that si...
