A Brooklyn backyard gave rise to the Punta and Paranda Festival

Nisani Walser

A Brooklyn backyard gave rise to the Punta and Paranda Festival
The Punta and Paranda Festival returns July 11 to Tulum Night Club, 4210 2nd Ave. Pictured, attendees fill the venue during last year’s festival. Photo courtesy of Through My Lens Photography.

On July 11, the acoustic rhythms of Central America and the Caribbean will take center stage in Sunset Park as the sixth annual Punta and Paranda Festival arrives at Tulum Night Club, 4210 2nd Ave. Named after two distinctive Garifuna music genres, the festival features an international lineup and aims to keep Garifuna culture vibrant.

“We were intentional [from the start] in trying to reach out to a broader community here in New York,” festival director Daryn Sabal said. “We try to reach out to the Vincentian community ... our Jamaicans, Trinis, our Mexican brothers and sisters. Hondurans, Guatemalans, Nicaraguans, Panamanians. Everybody who's interested [and] wants to learn about the culture.”

For Sabal, the festival represents the cultural resilience of the Garifuna, an Afro-Indigenous Caribbean people whose Arawakan language has survived centuries of discrimination and linguistic domination.

After resisting British colonial forces on St. Vincent, the Garifuna were deported in 1797 to Roatán, off the coast of present-day Honduras. Garifuna communities later spread along the Caribbean coasts of Honduras, Belize, Guatemala and Nicaragua, carrying their traditions with them.

Further migration made New York City home to the largest Garifuna population outside Central America. Fedu celebrations, centered on drumming, singing and dancing, are central to preserving the culture, providing a lifeline that the pandemic lockdowns threatened.

Living miles away from loved ones around the world, Sabal yearned for connection. He contacted his good friend, paranda musician Clayton Williams, and one conversation spurred a jubilant celebration that grew far beyond what they had imagined. Last year’s festival accommodated 600 people.

“There's always been shows, concerts, parties since the ’80s and ’90s in the Garifuna community [here]. So during the pandemic, I was watching a lot of these old VHS [and] YouTube videos of [them],” Sabal explained.

At home in Brooklyn, he noticed fewer intergenerational Garifuna gatherings taking place in the city and thought, “Why can't we do something?”

During the pandemic, Sabal and Williams safely organized a small, permitted lineup in a Brooklyn backyard, laying the groundwork for what became the annual Punta and Paranda Festival. On the night of the event, everything had been set up when a huge storm struck.

“To our surprise, the backyard that we were in was actually flooded out. A foot of water in there. It was crazy. Everything was destroyed.”

When the rain stopped around 1:30 a.m., they were close to canceling, only to find cars parked out front. Everyone was still eager for music, so Sabal called his sound engineer to confirm that the party was on.

“Everybody filled that backyard, literally in a foot of water. In certain areas of the backyard, [people were] dancing to 4:30, 5 o'clock in the morning. And I was like, wow, this is special,” Sabal said. “People that just had their minds made up that ... we’re gonna dance tonight. That's how it started. That's what really motivated us to keep it going.”

Now, Sabal is using the festival to unite the Garifuna community with the broader Central American diaspora in Sunset Park. Sabal’s dual heritage, rooted in Belize and Guatemala, sparked a lifelong passion for Garifuna music. After earning a degree in marketing, he moved to the U.S. as an entrepreneur, combining his strategic skills with community organizing and event production.

Sabal sees the event as an open invitation for the community to rejoice, not only in cultural preservation but also in life itself. Tulum’s spacious venue and large Central American following made the collaboration a “no-brainer,” providing a larger home for the festival’s growing audience.

Promotion for the event relies heavily on a targeted digital strategy, using videos and social media posts to build momentum and draw people from outside the immediate culture.

“I was always tapped in with my Garifuna musicians from 10, 15 years ago,” Sabal said. “So my goal was always trying to see how I can work with them to elevate their profile ... because I truly love it and want to see the culture grow.”

While paranda is acoustic and soulful, emphasizing language preservation and storytelling, punta is rhythmic and percussive, celebrating life across generations. Sabal’s curation ensures an event that both young people and elders can enjoy.

“Music is an international language,” Sabal said. “[While] our music is uniquely Garifuna, [it’s] similar to a lot of sounds [and] rhythms in the Afro-Caribbean [and] Latino communities here [and in] the grassroots countries.”

As the festival approaches, Sabal is most looking forward to seeing the community grow more united.

“I feel Punta and Paranda is almost like a family reunion. It's where you meet your cousin that you haven't seen in two, three years,” he said. “You know, you all come out here for the same thing. You come out here to enjoy the music, of course, but living in New York, everybody has their own careers, responsibilities [and] we don't get together as much as we should. So another objective [is] bringing the community together [to] celebrate our shared love for our culture and music.”

He emphasized that this vibrant heritage has much to share with the world.

Tickets are available on Eventbrite.