Mash and culture

Satiricus was excited. And why shouldn’t he be? He and the fellas were going to be enjoying Mash in a couple of weeks. Let him correct that: he and the fellas and their families were going to be enjoying Mash in a couple of weeks.
Satiricus sighed. Back in the day, he’d never gone to Mash, much less take his family. Ah… so much they’d missed. Since then they and their families had picked up so much new culture. In the beginning there was so much to learn but in the short time since, they’d now settled into a routine for Mash Day. They’d prepare their cutters and snacks and head out early to stake out their spot from where they could watch the floats depicting the various aspects of Guyanese culture.
Satiricus was particularly taken by all the new kinds of dancing that he’d never known about before. Guyanese culture was so wide. Take this ‘backballing’ to which he’d been introduced a couple of years before at Mash. Before coming to Mash, he would’ve thought this was how people would get on if they were in heat. Once when he was a boy, he looked at some dogs doing something like this ‘backballing’ but his mother saw him and threw the “peerha” she’d been sitting on, at him.
“What de arse yuh lookin’ at, boy?” she’d yelled. “If me ever catch yuh looking at that again, me gon bruk yuh tail!”
Satiricus had slunk away in confusion – and a little bit ashamed. Ever since then he’d avoided looking at such goings on – even as an adult. But here he was – looking forward to the same thing performed by men and women, and even children – in full daylight! Ah… culture was a wonderful thing. If only his mother was alive, he could’ve taken her to Mash and explained that she’d been wrong to throw that “peerha” at him.
He was enjoying culture very early on. He was precocious. That “peerha” had done more than hurt his behind where it’d hit him: it had scarred his psyche, he now realised. Now whenever he looked at ‘backballing’ at Mash, he’d get a guilty start like he was looking at something dirty rather than culture.
But Satiricus was determined to overcome the effects of his mother’s ignorance about culture. He was happy that he’d persisted and kept on going to Georgetown to imbibe more culture. The very next year after being exposed to dancehall ‘backballing’, he saw what he thought was the ultimate expression of culture – “dutty wining”.
Satiricus had seen the dogs doing their thing, but he bet that even they couldn’t shake their heads and tails at the same time with such abandon as the Mashers.
Satiricus wondered what was in store for him and his family this year. But he knew it was going to be good. The minister of culture, who knew about these things, promised that this year, would be “bigger and better”.