Some of the customs of Mardi Gras are as strange and mysterious as the bayous of southwest Louisiana themselves. That’s why some of us would rather be in Cajun country for the holiday than experience Mardi Gras from a balcony in the French Quarter in New Orleans.

There’s something about the rural celebration – and the names of the towns – that just makes us want to do the two-step to zydeco music while singing “Jalapeno Lena.” Just listen to these names: Mamou, Iota, Eunice, Church Point and Basile, all in the heart of Acadiana. Smaller towns have big-time Mardi Gras as well, towns like New Iberia, Carencro, Loreauville, Jeanerette and Breaux Bridge.

In these and other communities, the Courir du Mardi Gras is one of the activities that make Mardi Gras in Cajun and Creole country unique. Its roots are firmly in the medieval tradition of ceremonial begging, and bands of masked horseback riders roam the countryside seeking ingredients – chicken, sausage, rice and onions – for their community gumbo. The day’s festivities end with a fais-do-do and, lots of savory gumbo.

Certain key elements – the processional nature of the celebration and the masking – play a role in rural and urban Mardi Gras; and both stem from European and African traditions.

The Mardi Gras, or Carnival, customs reportedly made their first appearance in Louisiana on Shrove Tuesday in 1699, though the official starting date is often listed as 1743 (the first formal ball) or 1827 (when parades became less restricted).

Regardless of when it all begin (or where), the carnival season perhaps can be best enjoyed in Lafayette, La., where the official opening on Jan. 6 – 12 days after Christmas – is marked by the raising of the Southwest Louisiana Mardi Gras Association’s flag at City Hall.

In the old days, this marked the beginning of a succession of “Bals du Roi,” at which the king’s cake was cut. The custom still prevails as well as the private carnival balls sponsored by carnival “krewes” who choose their own kings and queens for the occasion. There are the Krewes of Oberon, Les Brigands de LaFitte, Order of the Troubadours, Gabriel, Krewe of Attakapas, Bonaparte, Zeus, Camelot, Versailles and Roux Nouvelle Acadiennes, to name a few.

And the carnival balls are just a few of the festivities offered during Mardi Gras, Lafayette style. There are at least five days of parades and special events. And beads enough to stretch from telephone pole to telephone pole. Contrast that to New Orleans’ 12-day celebration, more than 60 parades, and hundreds of private parties, dances and masked balls. That’s just too much revelry for us.

We’d rather celebrate Le Mardi Gras in southwest Louisiana, maybe because of our Maine kinship with the Acadians. Or maybe because it makes us drool to think of caf? au lait, of etouffees and jambalayas, of Creole pralines, of boudin. We can smell the sausage now and imagine the roux browning in the black skillet.

As we tap our toes to the rhythm of Rockin’ Sidney’s “You Ain’t Nothin’ But Fine, Fine, Fine,” we can just about taste those spicy gumbos.

Is that why Mardi Gras ends on a day called “Fat Tuesday”?