I can honestly say, I woke up that day with absolutely no intention of going anywhere. All I had on my agenda was a day of complete chill at home. I managed to be persuaded by a very unlikely source into shedding all previous sentiments towards the whole soca / carnival vibe and delving once again into a scene which I find so completely alien to anything I enjoy. After hours of contemplation, I transported myself down at the Oakridge Mas Camp Final Fete, on Oxford Road. We decided to cover this for one reason and only one reason, we know lots of ya’ll out there love this sh*t! We ain’t dishing out too much though, just a chups’.

If you don’t know by now, the Jamaica Carnival Scene is crazy! Especially with the climax of Carnival Sunday when all the bands combine for the street masquerade/road march. Everyone with the slightest bit of curiosity will find themselves on one of the many streets to join the crowd of thousands of onlookers cramming for a glimpse of the costumed revelers, whilst gyrating to the infectious rhythms of one of the many soca giants. The only obvious absentees from this oh so familiar scene are the die hard Christians who still ‘lick out annually against Carnival, as it falls in the Easter Season. Aside from them, practically everyone with an interest takes to the streets. Girls dressed in the now mandatory carnival uniform of batty ridahs and itsy bitsy midriff tops. The boys are macking or at least trying to mack complete with the gears, the cars and especially the bikes. All who been working out at the gym, priming their bodies for this very day, finally have the opportunity to shed their clothes and show off their toned arms and legs and washboard stomachs, (do you detect a little jealousy?)

Most have to return to work the following day and cannot afford to call in sick with some lame excuse, though it would be entertaining to hear some of the excuses people give their bosses on that dreaded Monday morning after the masquerade. Oakridge is usually one of the more uptown of all the bands that march on that colorful Sunday. Usually had I known this was where I was headed, I would probably have opted out of that scene and searched for something a bit more mainstream. Suffice to say that I am glad I didn’t, as I would have missed out on one of the best nights I have had in weeks!

I cannot put my finger on what exactly made this party so memorable, maybe it was the people, or the venue (though I doubt that), maybe the music, just the overall vibe or it could have just been the ever faithful rum, that gets the spirits lifted and the inhibitions faded. There was more than enough to go around, trust me. The bar was well equipped with several bar tenders just waiting to serve you.

Mic and I arrived basically around the same time, (we didn’t bother to try budge Tru after the episode at Beach Jouvert). I sighted her on Oxford Road waving frantically at me, signaling where I could park..I opted for a more secluded area and paid the guardie a bills to watch the car (which I am pretty sure he didn’t, but whatever). We followed the crowd towards the entrance, whilst being treated to some tough bike tricks being demonstrated by a band of riders. Oooooohhhhh, I must say it’s always sweet to watch a man on a bike, what yah think ladies? Anyway, after a warm welcome from our biker friends, and snapping a couple of pics, we resumed our trek towards the gate of the mas camp compound. It seems we arrived with the Carnival trucks as they pulled in, music blasting from their speakers. But signs of any other action, was nil. Even the revelers on the trucks looked dead tired. Everyone looked like the carnival bug had worn off, most were sweaty, sun burnt and quite possibly dehydrated, with the remaining scraps of their costumes barely covering their already almost naked bodies. While contemplating the dead vibe, my eyes fall upon a parked paramedics van, and I suddenly get a wicked idea...

We are soon being transported in to the final fete in the back of the paramedic’s van, going unnoticed through security and entering scot free into the park where all the festivities will be later on. On the inside, the spirit was already on the mend. Many were taking advantage of the complementary food provided as a means of regaining their strength. The rest who had already reenergized had begun their bar runs..and like I said - the juice was a flowin’. Regardless of the fact that we didn’t have on arm bands, we managed to use out ingenuity and sweet smiles to cut through all that bothersome red tape, and we were well on our way to complete enjoyment with each drink we slugged down.

There was a mixture of people there, all looking beautiful despite the long walk to this their final destination. As far as the starlights were concerned, I only saw one, Machel Montano, (a real sweetie) who had to be pointed out to me, otherwise I wouldn’t have known it was him. Apparently he wasn’t even in the Oakridge band, but I guess they had the energy he was seeking, (and the sweet ladies...see pics) so he deserted his band and was quickly adopted by this one.

So, Mic and I were busy getting crunked up and it wasn’t hard to notice the heat in the air, either from the steamy gyrations of the sweaty bodies, or the warm tropical night not uncommon to Jamaica. The DJ began spinning a wicked selection of all the outdated soca songs (at my request) Sparrow’s ‘Neva Eat a White Meat Yet’- brought down the camp! Goes to show why he is still the undisputed Calypso King!

By now the energy level had risen to the highest limit, far beyond your wildest dreams, everyone was dripping with sweat, getting down, though some more than others (that could be attributed to the e-pills rumored to have been floating around). Anyway, to each their own, we deal strickly wid the herbs still...naturality!
Moving on, there was supposed to be a live show, however, nothing much developed out of that, I think the promoters realized it would be wiser to leave the revelers to provide their own entertainment.

I left not too long afterwards, being extremely exhausted and starving (I wasn’t in the mood for the complementary KFC). I managed to wolf down 2 hotdogs from the hotdog man before departing though, they hit the spot! Anything tastes good with a little alcohol on the brain. I tried to drag Mic out, but she was still having too much of a good time to even penny me. So I just left her, I figured ‘Why break a good vibe and a good thing?’

And that’s exactly what Oakridge was, a really good thang..See you next year...maybe. *wink*

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