" You are 100 % guaranteed to get laid this weekend , " Luther the towel guy rope told me as he ready up my chair on Grand Cayman ’s Seven Mile Beach . Luther seemed a trivial optimistic . Actually he seemed downright overconfident . But by the end of the weekend I knew that while Luther might have been exaggerating my odds , he was n’t overstating Batabano .
Batabano ( pronounced BAH - tuh - buh - nu ) , is the Cayman Islands ' take on Carnival ; a weekend - long celebration where the usually button-down islands let loose in a festival of rummy , feathers , soca medicine , and , apparently , sex . All culminating in a Saturday parade through the streets of Grand Cayman . Luther was far from the only someone to talk about Batabano like it was Bacchus ' weekend in the Caribbean . virtually every server , barkeeper , cab driver , and scuba guide I match in Cayman told me it was the in force political party of their living .
" I do n’t remember much about my first Batabano , " one of my guides tell me . " But I woke up on the roof of Margaritaville , so I ’m sure it was a good fourth dimension . "
Cayman Carnival Batabano
Corralling belligerent horny people
Watching the parade is quite the spectacle , but to rightfully experience the mayhem that is Batabano one must " jump " with one of the " bands " in the progress .
What does that mean ? The bands are n’t middle - school marching set like we have in American parades , but private organizations that live entirely to participate in Carnival parades . They have names like " Swanky " and " Tribal , " and branded apparel to go along with it .
" Jumping " is how Caymanians mention to being part of the parade . Like " walking , " but , really , closer to " humping . "
Courtesy of Cayman Islands Dept of Tourism
The band I was to alternate with was called Tribal , which apparently had about as much to do with an actual kinship group as the Cleveland Indians . As I draw near their monolithic laggard in the center of the street on parade day , an PDA handed me a unslaked lime - immature shirt that say " Marshal . " Not that anyone explain to me what exactly a marshall did in a parade like this . But it seemed to be a fancy way of aver " corral warring horny people . " No thought how they knew I used to be a strip order bouncer .
“We drink everything BUT water today”
The crowd skewed young , mostly college - aged or a trivial older . But the hoi polloi jump were n’t limit to the vernal and sexy . guy with bowel proudly flaunted them under their costumes . Older ladies in the parade dressed the same as their daughters . It was a celebration , not a style show .
The costume ranged from guy cable who calculate like turquoise - feather gladiators to madam with the headdresses of Las Vegas showgirls , with less of the article of clothing . What everyone had in common , was not wearing much .
At the back of the trailer , some other marshall were give out bright - orange water bottles .
Matt Meltzer/Thrillist
" Those for water ? " I shouted to one of them over the blaring soca music . It was or so the temperature of a dishwashing machine outside , I thought maybe hydration would be important .
" body of water ? " he conk out into a square Caribbean joke . " We drink everything BUT water today ! "
I took my bright - orange nursing bottle up to the trilled trailer bar and handed it to one of the " bartenders , " who fill it with liquid from a Gatorade ice chest . After sip it , I can only take the tank contained a refreshing mixture of pineapple succus and rocket salad fuel .
Matt Meltzer/Thrillist
The twerking begins
At 1 pm knifelike , the parade got moving , the first time I ’d ever seen something in the Caribbean start on time . The " DJ " – who is really more of a plug man who plays music – interrupted the ear - ripping soca euphony about every 35 second to say something along the credit line of , " Are you ready , Tribal ? ? " or " Put your hand up , Tribal ! " And for the entire parade he DID . NOT . STOP . I ’d say I wonder how he gets that form of energy , but some questions are intimately left unanswered .
For the first hour or so , the parade was passably tamed . multitude in tiny kit gingerly dance along the road while the hoopla man asked , " Is Tribal quick to get crazy ? " Rhetorically , I take up . But as the rolling Browning automatic rifle get lighter , the twerking began . First one yoke in front of me . Then another . Then , like a crowd of dry - humping dominoes , the intact band was going at it with their apparel on . I think .
It was fantastic to watch out . At normal clubs , if a guy tries to grind behind a young woman he does n’t know , he ’s met with , at best , rejection , and at bad , a clout to the side . Not at Batabano . Here it was almost like say hello . human being would just walk up to woman and grind on them , the fair sex would respond by grinding back , then both would move on . Nothing said , not even a name exchange .
Matt Meltzer/Thrillist
As a marshal it was my line of work to make trusted nobody left the parade path , but it was an altogether lose cause . As the drinks hold back flowing " pinafore " begin to consort from the parade and dance with people standing on the street . And if I tried to blockade one of the women , she ’d just grind on me until I forget I was try out to block her in the first station . It ’s like the grinding was some variety ofHarry Potterspell gone awfully , dreadfully ill-timed , where the great unwashed were rendered zombies by teetotal humping .
Caribbean frat party
The humidity and the unenviable alcohol wrap up the parade in a boneheaded blanket of sexual stress , and by sea mile three the entire band was welt up into a delirium . Sometimes I ’d lay off to take it all in , and would inevitably be run over by a couple bumping pass over ugli and strain to walk at the same time , women jump into human being ’s arms and bouncing on them as they walked the parade road .
To avoid injury , I made my way to the front and lead the stria with a couple of other marshals , walk backwards like a slightly tipsy tour pathfinder . It looked like a Caribbean - themed frat company : people were drinking unusual punch out of an orangeness ice chest , the " bartenders " were pouring cupful of liquor with a splash of mixer , and the only dancing that was going on look a lot more like adorn stimulation .
There were even two guys with juiced - up fraternity builds who did n’t even bother fit out up , and were intelligibly just there to drink and grind on cleaning woman . Proving that fraternity douches be everywhere , even in the Cayman Islands .
The sun finally does me in
Six hours , a lot of sun , and my body weight in rum later , the parade ended in Downtown George Town . And while the local Caymanians were ready to spill out into the taproom and find someone to help free their sexual latent hostility , I was prostrate - out spend . I ran into one of the Tribal faculty member as we crossed the finishing line .
" What did you think ? " she need me .
" Great , " I said . " But humanity , that ’s a long route . "
" That ’s nothing , " she said . " In Trinidad it go on like three time that long . "
I made a genial banknote to develop a education program if I ever want to do this in Trinidad . Then took a cabriolet back to my hotel , solo .
The next dawn when I went to the beach , I saw Luther invest out some chairs .
" So , you get laid last nighttime ? " he tell , thirstily awaiting my news report of a feather - track three - manner .
I just shook my chief and grin . Luther looked foiled , but I was n’t . Batabano was one of those rare things in life that everyone builds up , and that hold out up to expectations . And even though I was in bed by 9 atomic number 61 , it was still one of the good sidereal day I ’ve ever had . And emphatically a object lesson in how intemperate the Cayman Islands can party .
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