A whooping yell comes from the trees, “Hey, Mardi Gras!” a masked man perched on a low branch screams. “Never fear, the Crawfish Bandit is here!” After a final drag on his cigarette he jumps down from the tree and starts to run, diving headfirst into the nearest mud hole. His attempts to uncover crawfish throughout the day were continuously unsuccessful. This year Fat Tuesday  fell on February 16. I was excited to return to the small rural town of Mamou to further explore their traditional Cajun Mardi Gras ritual. The town’s celebrations are self-segregated and while people don’t talk about it much, there is a palpable tension whenever the issue of race arises. The black side of town parades with men, women and children whereas the white side only allows men, 16 or older to ride along. They don traditional Cajun costumes, masks and hats – their outfits resembling colorful klansmen. Starting at sunrise, they begin drinking and the stream of Bud Light never runs dry. I follow nearly 150 men on horseback along with a caravan of tractor-drawn trailers as they roll through the countryside. Every now and then we stop at a farm and the men dance for the residents, who then release a bewildered chicken for the men to chase. Whoever catches the bird carries it like a trophy for the rest of the day before it is put into a pot of gumbo.

My buddy Denny Culbert covered Mamou this year for his newspaper, The Daily Advertiser in Lafayette, so he left in the early afternoon to file. I decided to wait around for the light to get nice and to explore some street scenes as the day winds down. By the time I get back to my Jeep I realize that somehow during the day’s craziness I bent my car key in half. I only wish there was someone there to make a picture of me as I tried to hammer my key straight with an empty 40 of Miller Lite I found in the ditch. This, of course, was to no avail. I was hard-pressed to find a locksmith in rural Louisiana on Mardi Gras so Denny had to return to drag me out of the bar where I holed up with a whiskey and take me back to Lafayette for the night. This was only the beginning of my Jeep-related logistical hurdles that I encountered during this road trip.  Despite this, the day was a blast and I hope to attend again next year. The entire event was a visual playground,  though in the grand scheme of things I’m not sure where these pictures belong, but I trust that in time they will find a home. Until then, here is a handful of images from Mamou, Louisiana.

Coming up next, a continuation of Trouble the Water, a project on the alligator people of South Louisiana.