In Amerigo, Carnival was as hallowed as Christmas itself, perhaps slightly more
so.
There was a meaning to it. See, Islanders did not put into words, yet which
made it the authentic supreme day in the Kinjian calendar.
Africa was marching down the main street of this little harbor town today.
Africa, in undimmed black vitality, surging up out of centuries of island
displacement, island slavery, island isolation, island ignorance.
Africa, unquenchable in its burning love of life.
Carnival was Africa Day in Amerigo.
