New Orleans was the city to be. For first times like Gideon, the atmosphere was filled with anticipation like a kid waiting to open up their gifts on Boxing Day. This was the day that he had dreamt of all his life. He could not quite believe that he was going to be part of one of the most historic carnivals in the world. He felt that this was a chance that he had to take given the time that he had taken to save money to travel to New Orleans. He felt restless like a boxer who was about to get into the ring with one of his greatest rival. He could not help but wonder why the night was taking long. He knew that at some point, he had to take a nap, but the excitement could not allow him. Through his life, he had read about the brilliance of artists especially during the first day of the carnival. Gideon just paced around his hotel room that was situated in the famous French quarter. Although he had a mental picture of what to expect during the carnival, he knew that the carnival that he was going to be part of could be special. This is because there had been a vicious war of wars between the organizers of the New Orleans carnival and the organizers of the Brazilian Samba carnival. The hosts had challenged the Brazilians to a show-off and the challenge had been accepted.
Although Gideon did not have much sleep due to the hooting and taunting of different rivals in the carnival, he woke up just in time to get his breakfast. He knew that he was on a limited budget and the front office manager had informed him that breakfast would be served early, and in the instance that he missed the breakfast, the hotel could not be liable. The fresh coffee had an aroma that only is appreciated by locals since they prided themselves on the weird taste of the coffee.
The carnival was scheduled to start exactly at nine o clock. He took a glance at his watch and realized that he was getting late. This was not the day to get late he thought. He ran as quickly as his feeble legs could carry him to the hotel. The thought of missing the opening ceremony sent a cold chill on his spine. He had been waiting for all his life this day. Gideon knew that he was fortunate enough to be representing his local town. Gideon went straight to his room balcony. He knew that from the balcony he would have the best view. He imagined himself as the king of England standing to wave to the crowd after a next in line king had been born.
The wait was not long. The sound of blasting music ruled the air. He even tried to pinch himself to ensure that he was not dreaming. Then suddenly from a distance, he could see a procession of artists walking towards his hotel. Was it he who was being welcomed? He wondered. As the sounds of blasting music continued to grow louder, he knew that he had to be ready to take pictures using his 2K resolution camera that he had borrowed from his neighbor who had bout it while on safari in East Africa.
First came the New Orleans procession. The theme of the carnival had was a Chinese holiday that rivaled the Halloween. The artists were on top of a bus that had been modified to look like a dragon. On top of the bus, there were almost fifty scantily dressed women and men. As he continuously clicked on his camera, he could not help but notice the beauty of women who had been oiled like persons who had just received a Thai massage in one of the movies that he had watched while at home. The men were however dressed as native Indian Americans. Gideon would later come to learn that the dress code had been in protest of the choice of the theme. Initially, the theme of the carnival was supposed to be American culture but due to lobbying from one of the key sponsors of the carnival. There were rumors flying here and there that the lobbyists were from a well to do company from China. This had enraged the locals as they felt that their carnival had been hijacked.
The second procession followed as soon as the first had passed through. It was only the feathers from the carefully crafted hats of the Brazilians that kept Gideon fixated. He knew that for one to come up with such beautiful artisanship, and then the work that they had put in them had to have been immense. The Brazilian convoy, however, did not put a show that he had expected. This gave him a feeling of disappointment. He walked out of his hotel to join the procession. After all, that was the tradition. As he moved along the streets, he could not help but notice the different kinds of cuisine from different parts of the country and other nations. It only took his beeping alarm sound to realize that it was almost ten o clock and he had to be checked in so as to get his dinner. He knew that good things in life do not last.
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