Canadian Acadian and American Cajun traditions collide in Louisiana

The word “Cajun” is an anglicized pronunciation of the French “Acadienne”, and even today, rural Louisiana communities are filled with descendants of Acadian Broussards, Lafleurs, Melancons and Cormiers.

By CINDA CHAVICH

(Elton, Louisiana) – The sun has barely risen, yet on this rural Louisiana back road, the party has already begun.

A collection of masked men in colorful, ragged costumes is gathering, clowning behind pick-up trucks, drinking beer and dancing to an accordion player’s traditional tunes.

Behind the bizarre disguises, created from scraps of cloth, paint and bits of leftover window screen, are a motley crew of locals – students, crawfish and rice farmers, musicians, teachers and workers from the local chemical plant. But today they are all Cajuns, members of the Elton Courier de Mardi Gras or chicken run, celebrating their rural French roots with an annual romp down the local back roads to entertain their neighbours and gather the ingredients for tonight’s community gumbo feast.

Courier de Mardi Gras events like this are held throughout the Cajun communities of southwestern Louisiana in the weeks leading up to Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday, the day before the Catholic season of Lent. While urban centres like New Orleans celebrate with lavish costume balls and raunchy parades, these small town Cajun Mardi Gras parties are considerably less formal, a reflection of the traditionally poor farming and fishing families who have long populated these marshy bayous.

Jon Bertrand, a member of the Grammy-nominated, Cajun roots band the Pine Leaf Boys, joins his father David in a squeeze box serenade, while dozens of his boyhood friends two-step to the beat. After stopping briefly for a prayer, a stern warning from the local police constable and a tongue-in-cheek reading of the rules of deportment, they climb aboard horses and flatbed trailers, then head down the road to their first chicken-chasing stop.

“I’m very proud of my Cajun heritage,” says Guthrey who can trace her ancestry to the French Acadians who settled here on the Gulf shore after they were driven out of Nova Scotia by British troops in 1755. The word “Cajun” is an anglicized pronunciation of the French “Acadienne”, and

even today, rural Louisiana communities are filled with descendants of Acadian Broussards, Lafleurs, Melancons and Cormiers.

There are only three people here to receive the dozens of masked revellers today, but Guthrey remembers a time when 100 relatives would gather on the family farm for the annual Courier de Mardi Gras.

“Every year it’s a little less,” she says, “because the kids are gone and only people my age, in their 50s, remember the grandparents and the old Mardi Gras.”

After the sausage is shared, and a few Cajun tunes are played, the chickens are tossed skyward and the young men race off chasing them through the muddy ditches and marshy woods, swooping across the Cajun prairie like a flock of multi-colored birds. It’s a scene that’s repeated throughout the day, the Mardi Gras crawling on hands and knees, begging for coins, chasing chickens and playing silly tricks.

Some don women’s wigs and skirts, while the “Capitaine” – the leader of the group – wears a cape and cowboy hat, and carries a braided burlap whip to keep his charges in check.

The ritual is part pagan, part frat party - reminiscent of a rowdy Hallowe’en trick-or-treat, or a visit by Maritime mummers. Like other Mardi Gras celebrations, the mood is definitely irreverent, mocking the Catholic church with pointed, bishop-like hats and sexual innuendo, fuelled with plenty of beer, cases of it stacked on flatbed trailers.

“Y’all have fun but no fightin’,” says the officer who follows the run in his police car, “and if I ask you to leave, and you don’t leave, we gotta place for ya.”

While it’s not a formal spectator sport – the route is pre-ordained but not published, and only locals can actually participate in the “run” – families gather at gas stations and busy country corners to watch the Mardi Gras pass. With masked riders arriving at your door playing tricks and demanding food, there’s a fine line between beggar and bandit, but the coercion is all in fun.

These rowdy “runs” take place throughout the region in the month leading up to Fat Tuesday (Feb. 16 this year).

“Though they may be only 10 miles apart, each community’s Mardi Gras is completely different,” explains David Bertrand, a local rice farmer and organizer of today’s Elton Chicken Run. “It’s still a means of our small community’s survival – it keeps our social identity.”

But it’s been difficult to keep the Cajun traditions, and the small communities alive. Many, like Elton, have less than 1,500 inhabitants, and an aging population.

During World War II, the chicken run tradition died out here in Louisiana. Like the French language – which was once banned in local schools – many Cajun cultural traditions were on the brink of collapse. But in the last 25 years, the rural Cajun culture has bounced back, thanks to a resurgence in French Cajun music by groups like Bertrand’s and academics dedicated to preserving the past.

“Parts of the culture will definitely survive because it’s entertaining,” says Jean Ancelet, who’s father Barry, a University of Louisiana French professor and folklorist, documented the unique culture of the region, including events like the chicken run, in his book, Cajun Country.

Ancelet studied French at the Université Sainte-Anne in Nova Scotia – a fully Acadian university - and says the fact that so few young people still speak Cajun French in rural Louisiana puts a strain on cultural traditions. A shift from bayou-based fishing and small-scale agriculture to jobs in offshore oil and gas plants also take their toll.

“It’s not very easy to stay in a small town if your grandparents were farmers and now it’s all big agri-business,” says Ancelet. “You don’t have to be a shrimper to be a Cajun, but from language flows culture.”

Still, rural areas like this remain uniquely Cajun, and an authentic, family-friendly place to celebrate the Mardi Gras season. Parades are for kids – there’s no breast baring drunken debauchery – and when the Lake Charles civic centre hosts the glittery Royal Gala promenade of 50 local krewes’ in elaborate costumes on Mardi Gras eve, the whole town comes out to cheer. In between there are community gumbo cookoffs and Cajun squeeze box (accordion) contests that draw both kids and seniors to the stage.

Annual chicken runs now take place in tiny towns like Elton, Basile, Iowa, Vinton, Hathaway, and Tee-Mamou – where the all-male tradition has been augmented by an all-female run. Some towns have co-ed runs or runs for children, and each has its own unique costume style and traditional songs.

It’s a unique corner of the American south, a bit of true French quarter that owes its special culture the Acadian Canadian refugees who settled here more than 250 years ago.

“You have to adapt the culture to keep it,” says Bertrand tuning his guitar for the next crazy stop along the route. “It’s a real good homecoming, too – and there’s a gumbo waiting for us when we get there.”

IF YOU GO:

Fly WestJet to New Orleans and drive into Cajun country (or connect into Lake Charles Regional Airport on regional carries), then head south into Cajun country on Interstate 10, for the rural Cajun experience. Stop at the tourist information centre in Jennings – set in a restored 18th-century Acadian cottage– for details about the small town Mardi Gras chicken runs, parades, gumbo cookoffs and Cajun music in the region (Jeff Davis Parish Tourist Commission – 1-800-264-5521) Or visit the Southwest Louisiana Mardi Gras site at www.swlamardigras.com (1-800-456-7952)

CAJUN CUISINE:

For a traditional Cajun feast – including thick seafood gumbo, local oysters and crispy fried alligator – stop at Cajun Tales in Welsh, with the popular Maison Rouge gift shop next door (337-734-4722)

Nott’s Corner in Lake Arthur offers plate lunches and boiled peel-and-eat crawfish or crawfish pies and étouffée (337-774-3334), or head to Steamboat Bills in Lake Charles (337-494-1070), and other “boiling points” for crawfish to go.

ACADIAN ROOTS:

Visit the Acadian Museum in Erath (337-658-7329), with its history of the Acadian deportment from Nova Scotia, Saturday afternoon Cajun jam sessions and free traditional Cajun suppers with local Acadians on Monday nights.

This story was first published online at www.Zenchilada.com

©Cinda Chavich 2012

www.tastereport.com