Fete de Caffres

Since Friday was my last day of work, I brought the students paper and markers to make Christmas cards with English sayings, like "Happy Holidays!" and "Merry Christmas!" I asked them what they were going to do for Christmas, and they told me, "Eat, dance, drink!" "What will you drink?" I asked, already dreading the answer: Oh, rum!! and whiskey, 'ti punch.... Really??? I asked, somewhat shocked that my 13 and 14 year old students drank.....but then again, that's not too far from the legal age of 16 I guess. You never would have seen me drinking at that age, that's for sure.

More interesting was when they told me about this weekend. It's the "fete de Caffres," they tried to explain, lost in translation. Since this topic came up in more than one class, all the teachers explained to me that the 20th of December is a very important celebration on Reunion Island because it marks the end of slavery on the island. Reunion Island was used by the French for several centuries as a slave holding pen, more or less, mostly people pulled from Madagascar. Needless to say today Reunnais take the celebration seriously. There are tons of concerts, fireworks, and of course, food and drink.

At first I was unsure how to approach the festival. I'm not black, and my ancestors didn't all have exactly nice reputations, coming from the aristocratic south. However I've learned over time here that instead of feeling awkward and avoiding situations like these, it's best to embrace them, and rather learn from them. As we walked around Vilelle, an old sugar cane factory, we checked out the reenactment of a slave village, wondering what life must have been like for the common slave at a sugar refinery. People presenting the town were really welcoming, and showed us the work the slaves did, and gave us samples of Creole food. Even though it was hard for me to read about the slave owners, and what they did, it was still good to learn a little more about Reunion. Even better were the stories of the escaped slaves who lived in the mountains, running into to town to try to free other slaves from their fate. As we listened to the sounds of drums from the Maloya, or slave music, I thought, what a wonderful way to celebrate the freedom of a people, who are still very connected to their roots after all these centuries.