“Out Late” is Time Out’s nightlife and party column by DJ, Whorechata founder, and Staff Writer Ian Kumamoto, which publishes every other Tuesday. The previous edition highlighted Red Lantern District’s all-Asian drag party.

If you grew up listening to reggaeton, then you know it’s an inherently sexy genre. Lyrically, the songs practically beg you to find the nearest body and thrust your hips against it. But as playful as reggaeton is to the casual listener, the culture around is sequestered by a set of rigid rules: Namely, if you’re a boy, you best be dancing with a girl. 

To me, that’s what makes Mercury in Reggaeton, the two-year old Latinx-centered party, so iconic: It happens during the most rule-breaking time of year. If you’re not big into astrology, let me catch you up: Mercury Retrogrades are windows of chaos, of miscommunications, times when the normal order of things gets turned on their head. If you’re a boy who likes to dance with other boys, for example, the retrograde might just be a window of transgressive opportunity.  

The idea for Mercury in Reggaeton came about when Puerto Rican DJ and producer Lucas Skywalker started partying in La Perla, a neighborhood in San Juan that throws the wildest, most ass-on-the-wall type parties. Per Lucas, people’s homes are transformed into makeshift nightclubs where cellphone use is forbidden for practical reasons—”the parties are not exactly legal,” he tells me—and then they play reggaeton, hip-hop, and top 40 hits well into the morning.  

Inspired by the energy and community that formed around those parties, Lucas wanted to bring a sense of underground reggaeton functions to New York and make them queer-inclusive. He started by recruiting some of his closest DJ friends, including Mazurbate, Joselo, Fried Platano, and Oscar Nñ. Then he found a co-producer, Damn Steven. As for the art direction of the flyers, he was drawn toward the testosterone-heavy, six-pack-ridden ads that a lot of gay Latin parties use. His instructions to the graphic designer were to essentially take those and Bushwickify them. The results were these now emblematic, glossy humanoid characters who are grabbing a planet I assume is Mercury and topping it. 

In order to recreate the underground feel of La Perla parties, the first Mercury in Reggaeton parties took place at H0l0, the stuffy basement venue located in Ridgewood. The concept of a reggaeton party that only happened during the retrogrades was so intriguing that the parties were packed from the get-go. Then, H0L0 shut down temporarily and Lucas scrambled for a new venue. His saving grace came in the form of SILO, a new, cavernous space that was formerly a plane hangar in East Williamsburg, with a DJ setup in the middle, Boiler Room style. 

 One parameter we stay within is that all the DJs and hosts are Latinx.

The latest Mercury in Reggaeton party at SILO boasted an incredible lineup of DJs that included Bronx-native Dada Cozmic, Manuka Honey, DJ Sammii Blendz, Neueportrait, and Skywalker. “One parameter we stay within is that all the DJs and hosts are Latinx,” Lucas tells me. The party hosts, who each had their own tables cordoned off along the outer edge of the dance floor, included Fashion Faguette, Cesar Lemonier, the clubwear brand LEAK NYC, and salon owner and hair designer Hair by Ian.

Lucas says that one of the most exciting things about the party is how it’s evolved into much more than just a gay Latin party. When you attend a Mercury in Reggaeton, the attendees have now proliferated into what Lucas describes as “a mix of fashion girls, guys who take off their shirts immediately, and straight cis girls who come to dance.” 

A mix of fashion girls, guys who take off their shirts immediately, and straight cis girls who come to dance. 

Just two years into their inception, Mercury is already one of the most talked about Latin parties in the city, and Lucas is excited to keep dreaming upwards. “I would love to have this party at Brooklyn Mirage, or that type of venue with a festival vibe,” he says. The idea of a big, queer-inclusive reggaeton festival feels really fresh and exciting. If I’m being completely honest, I would buy a ticket to that in a heartbeat. “I just want to make it bigger, and better and elevated.”

An hour-by-hour account of a night at Mercury in Reggaeton 

12:20am

I arrive with a group of friends, and the dance floor is already packed. It’s very POC, and the music is bumping. I think I hear some Don Omar mixed with techno, but Shazam can’t really tell me since it’s someone’s original edit.

12:45am

I’m dancing with some friends and I can’t help but notice how hot everyone here is. If people aren’t wearing something cute, they have their shirts off. If they’re not shirtless, they’re wearing crop tops. There really is a chaotic energy and I can’t tell if it’s because of the retrograde or because it’s just starting to get warm in New York, finally. 

1:15am

I’m surprised to hear some circuit mixes—a bold choice for Bushwick. But again, somehow it works. I realize here that the problem with circuit parties is not so much the music as much as it is the culture surrounding it, which tends to have a mean popular Fire Island gay energy to it. It’s the first time I’ve heard Latin circuit music surrounded by people who are not all cis men obsessed with being cis men, and I’m kind of living for it. 

I meet another Mexican-American person and he tells me he recently got out of a relationship. He says he hasn’t gone out in a long time and also points out that everyone here is so hot. “You absolutely don’t have to do anything with this information,” he says. “But I think you’re cute.”

2am

An aerialist gets on stage and does some acrobatics. It feels random but not in a head-scratching way; more so in a oh my god is that an aerialist?! sort of way. I doubt they have people doing flips like that in La Perla, and I guess this is what makes this a Brooklyn party.  

2:30am 

I go to the bar to take a break from dancing, and there are plenty of people hanging out and talking. This feels like a very social party, the type of party where people just start talking to whoever is next to them, which I don’t experience a lot in NYC nightlife. I end up chatting with some people, including some of Lucas’ friends Papito Suave and Kandy Muse. I exchange socials with a couple of other people. I can’t tell if we’re cruising or genuinely trying to be friends.

3:30am

I lose track of time and realize that the party is almost over. Someone offers me poppers. 

4am 

SILO’s staff clears out the venue and there’s plenty of people outside. You know a party was a success when people are not ready to go home. They’re all talking about where the afters will be. I order enchiladas and eat them standing up. I must have kept going because I didn’t get home until 9am.

How to catch the next Mercury in Raggaeton party

Where: SILO or other venues around Bushwick.

When: Whenever mercury is in retrograde (that’s usually three or four times/year)

Cost: $20+

How to get in: Buy a ticket whenever they drop a link. Keep an eye on dl presents’ Instagram.

The vibe: Sexy and social.

What to wear: Whatever you want, or nothing at all.

* This article was originally published here

The African presence in today’s Republic of Bolivia is very small compared to Colombia, Venezuela, or Brazil, but its tradition of defiance has been massive. As in all of the Americas, this African presence was the result of the horrific Transatlantic slave trade. One of the scholars of this history is Juan Angola Maconde. He is one of those people in the Americas who has two ethnic ancestral names: one is Angola, which comes from the name for the ancient leader of the Ndongo kingdom, the Ngola Kiluanje, from what is now the Republic of Angola; and Makonde, his second surname, derives from the Makonde ethnic group who are from the East African coast, from between Tanzania and Mozambique.

AmNews: Where were you born, and why do you have two surnames?

Juan Angola Maconde: I was born in the former Hacienda Dorado Chico, now known as the Comunidad Dorado Chico. It’s the ancestral Canton of La Concordia Arapata, in the city of Coripata, Nor Yungas province. 

My surname, Angola, is “toponymic.” That means it tells the geographical area where the ancestors of my ancestors came from. And the name Maconde is the same. It’s the name of an ethnic group that specializes in wood carving, they are located between Tanzania and Mozambique.

AmNews: When did you seriously begin studying from a historical perspective?

J.A.M.: I have been studying the African presence in Bolivia since 1996, when I wrote a research paper entitled: “Collecting contemporary Afro Bolivian oral history.” That research had forced me to return to the community, where I “re-learned” what I had alienated myself from in the official educational system that denies our African presence; I went back to listen to our grandmothers and grandfathers, the guardians of the culture. This research and the act of retelling my community’s story as a historical subject led me to publish my first book: “Raíces de un pueblo, cultura afroboliviana” (Roots of a People, Afro Bolivian Culture) in 2000.

I had the opportunity to get to know this Afro Bolivian activist in the middle of the 1990s, when I participated in a conference organized by the activist Monica Rey in Santa Cruz de la Sierra. We started a friendship that led us to join forces with the African American professor Sheila Walker, and produce a beautiful text called “Conocimiento desde adentro: los afrosudamericanos hablan de sus pueblos y sus historias (Knowledge from within: Afro South Americans speak of their people and history),” the first edition of which was published in Bolivia in 2010.

In this text, I talk about the origins of Afro Bolivian people, their traditions, their cultures, and their historical and contemporary struggles. The Afro Bolivian diaspora can be found throughout Bolivia, but especially in Las Yungas, La Paz, Santa Cruz, and a province called Inquisivi. The prefix Inquisivi comes from the west-central African name of the Nkisi, which are objects that serve as spiritual protectors of traditional families of the Congo. 

In Bolivia, there is the tradition of El Rey Congo, located in Las Yungas, a traditionally Afro Bolivian area. The late legislator, Jorge Medina Barra, fought for the recognition of this tradition and the origin of the ancient Congo Día Ntotela in Bolivia, as well as the traditional Afro Bolivian Saya dance, which was internationally recognized as part of our national heritage in 2011, as was the Diabladas of Oruro dance, which takes place in a location where thousands of Africans were enslaved and exploited in the gold mines.

AmNews: What is the status of Afro Bolivians today?

J.A.M.: Currently, Afro Bolivians are relegated to the “social basement.” They face structural racism due to the existing colonial mentality of Bolivian society. The population and housing census was conducted on March 23 of this year; the results won’t be made public until November. But we know that there are an estimated 25,000 Afro Bolivians. 

Part of the Afro Bolivian agenda for the next few years is: We hope to establish a headquarters and an Afro Bolivian Memorial Museum. We want to have an Afro Secretariat to help improve our representation and allow us to demand more access to power. As far as the issue of education is concerned, we are certain to fight for the visibility of the Afro Bolivian people in regionalized educational curricula.

The post Bolivia’s African roots and presence: A dialogue with a scholar appeared first on New York Amsterdam News.

* This article was originally published here

New York City’s culinary scene would be nothing without its street vendors, many of whom serve some of the most delicious food across the five boroughs but rarely get the flowers they deserve. 

To spread more love to these small independent businesses, the Street Vendor Project is organizing a giant, citywide scavenger hunt that will encourage New Yorkers to learn more about the street vending community and put some new spots on their foodie radars.

RECOMMENDED: The best New York street food

The multi-part scavenger hunt is taking place across Brooklyn, Manhattan, and Queens from May 4-17. To play the game, you’ll form a team of up to 10 friends via their registration page. Registered teams will be able to download an app that will give them different missions to complete by answering trivia questions, meeting vendors, and trying their food. 

Once a mission is completed, team members will upload pictures on the app to gain points. The teams will also earn extra points for money they donate to the Street Vendor Project’s translation fund. At the end of the scavenger hunt, the points will be tallied, and winners will be given special prizes. 

The two-week long scavenger hunt kicks off with an outdoor party in Jackson Heights on May 4 where participants will learn about the street vending culture of Little Bangladesh, which is home to about one-third of the city’s Bangladeshi population. 

On Saturday, May 11, the scavenger hunt events will continue at Times Square, where local street vendors will give participants a tour of the area and a history of the blossoming street vending scene there.

The weeks-long scavenger hunt will end in a closing ceremony at A-Pou’s Taste in Williamsburg, a Taiwanese restaurant owned by former street vendor Doris Yao. The May 19 ceremony will involve dumpling tastings, an opportunity to meet other participants, and an award ceremony to crown the winning teams and award prizes. 

Supporting street vendors is also a great way to celebrate the city’s diversity. Among the members of the Street Vendors Project, 25 percent are Mexican, 20 percent are Ecuadorian, 15 percent are Senegalese and 14 percent are Egyptian. 

To learn more and take part in the scavenger hunt, visit the Street Vendor Project’s website; registration is now open.

* This article was originally published here