The revelers at the Chicago Caribbean Carnival smelled a mix of incense, fried conch fritter and smoking jerk chicken.
They heard a bouncy medley of bass notes merging from competing setups of stacked speakers atop semi-truck flatbeds.
And as Alberto Patt sold Belizean cuisine to the festival goers filling Midway Plaisance Park in Hyde Park Saturday afternoon, he noticed that Caribbean cultures were mixing, too.
“We one people,” the Belizean-American Skokie resident said. “That’s what we’re trying to celebrate. There are all different colors here. And that’s the Caribbean: All kinds of people.”
Patt, 55, cooked snapper and kingfish in a bustling makeshift kitchen set up to prep tamales, garnaches and more. The festival is one of the biggest for Caribbean Chicagoans, he said.
It’ also a busy day for the UnBelizeAble catering business his family runs. They were on track to sell over 1,000 panades – an empanada-like fried savory pastry with a corn flour dough filled with fish, he said.
As people tried his birth country’s fare, he left his Belizean-flag covered tent to check out the Jamaican jerk chicken vendor next door.
“We want to eat, drink and be happy. That’s the Caribbean motto,” Patt said.
Jahnice Johnson took a break from dancing to try some jerk chicken herself. The 41-year-old joined one of the many teams competing in dance competitions donning elaborate costumes.
Rhinestones and glitter lined her cheeks and a crown of jewelry sat on her head. Teal, pink and purple leaves were fixed to her two-piece body suit. Her friend made the outfit by hand, she said.
Johnson danced in the parade earlier in the day as Caribbean music blared, she said.
“I love to get that attention from the crowd. The hype music was going. The crowd was going. It’s a lot of fun,” the West Side resident said.
While many opted for less clothing amid the beating sun and Carnival theme, Crystal LaJuene sold more.
LaJuene, who runs Looks & Style, a reggae fashion and Caribbean merchandise store in the Grand Crossing neighborhood, offered scarves, necklaces, bikinis and hats marked with the flags and names of apparently every Caribbean nation. One boy bought a green, yellow and black Jamaica headband. Another man bought a Belizean flag.
Nearby, other vendors sold kente cloth clothes, handmade trays and shea butter beneath the shade of trees. Between the music and food, the Carnival was a vibrant display of Caribbean unity, LaJuene said.
“It’s a chance for everybody in the city of Chicago to get a taste of all of the different islands at one time,” she said. “It’s a big world out here, and little-bitty islands have lots of people.”
