A good time to visit a place is during the national or town celebrations as you get an insight in to the culture of the place and experience something you wouldn’t normally get to experience. For example, witnessing fifty grown men, from the army no less, dressed as babies from the film Shrek, complete with green body paint and nappies, parading down the street is certainly not something I experience on a regular basis. This was just one of many in a long line of eye-opening sights carnaval had to offer in February.
Festivities kicked off on Thursday 9 with Compadres, a day of celebration for the men. Compadre is the term used to describe the relationship between the parents and godparents of a child but on this day it includes all male friends. The revelry consists of lots of eating, drinking, socialising and dancing.
My host family had a party at their house and up to twenty guys came round for the occasion. The party is an annual event and very popular. One compadre flew in from La Paz especially just to be there and celebrated till the wee hours of the morning before heading straight back to the airport and flying to La Paz for an important business meeting.
The female equivalent is comadres, which was celebrated a week later on the 16th. The women really let their hair down and celebrations get very messy which prompts some men to stay indoors and keep well away from the ‘animated’ women, whilst other men like to mingle and make the most of the women having a good time.
Saturday 18, the place to be was at the Carnaval de Oruro. The celebrations in Oruro are the most popular in all of Bolivia and showcase the cultural traditions of Bolivia’s Andean history thus earning the event the title of 'Masterpiece of Oral and Intangible Heritage of Humanity' by UNESCO in 2001. The carnaval is one big parade from 8am till well after midnight with the participants dancing through the streets of town with very elaborate costumes. The favourites of the parade are the Osos (bears), and the Diablos (devils) who sometimes shot fire out from the top of their masks.
My favourite group though was at the Corso de Infantales the next day in Cochabamba. The participants of this parade are children and by far the coolest thing I saw was a group of six or seven kids on the back of a truck dressed as KISS and miming along to songs of the band and playing toy instruments. It was a welcome change from the half a dozen groups that dressed as ‘The Smurfs’.
When I wasn’t watching the parade I was watching the action away from the street. A war was waging with water pistols, water balloons and cans of foam. Like a lot of ugly wars, the main combatants were child soldiers.
I was no stranger to mixing it in the trenches with the children. The Friday before, the school where I work held a water fight that included everyone from the youngest student, through to the part-time teachers, up to the principal. Everyone knew in advance, except for me, and knew to bring a spare pair of clothes. Thankfully I found some clothes I could use and with everyone ready, it was on. Thankfully the sun came out at that time, too. It was a cold day and the water was an invigorating temperature as well.
Everyone was armed with a jug or bucket of some sort and no mercy was given as we ran back and forth from the taps for refills. The students were somewhat at a disadvantage as they’re blind but they were able to hear where people were from the loud shrieks of shock when they were soaked. Myself included; I didn’t know my voice could reach that high. The principal is blind as well and so naturally he was an easy and obvious target. The staff ganged up on him to deliver him a soaking equal to that of the Iguacu Falls.
After a truce had been called, the fun continued with a mini-party in each classroom of the school with food, drinks, music, singing and dancing. This was part of the ch’alla.
The ch'alla is an Aymara tradition celebrated on the third day of carnaval (Tuesday) in which families and business owners burn a small packet of mixed goods for luck and prosperity. It is a sacrifice to thank Mother Earth for what she has provided throughout the year and to ensure the coming year will be prosperous. After the sacrificial burning, people begin to drink heavily and/or share a family meal. Alcohol is also poured on the ground as a sacrifice.
Tuesday of carnaval is called Fat Tuesday as people eat up big before the sacrifices of lent begin the next day on Ash Wednesday. Something new I learnt was that the French translation for Fat Tuesday is Mardi Gras.
As well as the ch’alla’s and hearty meals, the streets continued to be a war zone. Pickup trucks with mobs of youths in the back roamed the streets soaking anyone and everyone within striking distance. Foot soldiers armed with large water cannons fought a turf war and for some reason many men wore women’s clothing - a disguise perhaps? To add to the war zone vibe, the streets echoed with the sound of fire-crackers exploding every couple of minutes.
For the celebrations at my school, I took a student shopping to buy some things for the party. In Spanish, I know the term fuegos artificiales to mean fire-crackers. So I didn’t think anything of it when the student asked me if he could buy some cuetes. I quickly went in to damage control when I saw he had bought some fire-crackers. Explosives in the hands of a fifteen year old blind boy are not a good mix. So I supervised in the lighting of them when we were back at the school.
The 22nd was miercoles de cenisa (Ash Wednesday). It was a day like any other until I went to la cancha, Cochabamba’s market place. La cancha is a crazy place anyway – it is the largest market in Bolivia, covering a fifteen block area – but on this occasion it was out of control. Four of my five senses were on full alert as there was a hive of activity everywhere I looked. I’ve never experienced anything like it. I’d liken it to day three of a weekend music festival where everyone has taken all of their remaining drugs and are running riot. The market stalls and streets were closed and, instead, there were street parties, loud music blaring from PA systems, people dancing and drinking in the streets, the usual shenanigans with water, foam and fire-crackers, and the majority of shops had ch’alla fires. I saw a hairdressing salon fully smoked out whilst a woman was inside getting her hair cut. How they were able to see what they were doing I don’t know.
Saturday 25 was Cochabamba’s turn to shine with its version of carnaval, Corso de Corsos. The main feature is that of the military forces taking part in the parade. They make fun of themselves, or of topical issues at the time, by dressing up in funny costumes. On this occasion the majority dressed as animated characters from movies, such as Shrek and Puss in Boots.
If I were to compare Bolivia’s main attraction, Carnaval de Oruro, to other parades I’ve been to, I’d say it is up there as one of the most impressive. The elaborate costumes are on a par with those you’d see in the Sydney Gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras; the dancers are as gorgeous as you’d find anywhere; the atmosphere is as exciting as that of the St Patrick’s Day parade in Dublin; whilst the floats of Corso de Corsos – giant-sized moving animated movie characters – out does anything you’d see at the Notting Hill Carnaval or at the Love Parade. However, I’d much prefer the electro beats of the Notting Hill Carnaval or Love Parade to that of marching bands belting out Andean music.
Despite the music not being totally to my taste, I would love to learn one of the dances and take part next year. Last weekend I met a Cochabambina who revealed to me that she was an oso in Carnaval de Oruro. Immediately I fell in love with her and I asked if she still had the costume. She told me she did. For some guys a nurse’s outfit gets them excited, for me it’s … perhaps I’ve said too much. Anyway, she said even though they start practising in November, it’s possible to join one of the carnaval fraternities as late as January which is the earliest I’d be able to join due to visa restrictions. Wow, I can’t wait. With a year to recover from the excesses of carnaval, and time to digest the craziness I saw, come February I’ll be ready to do it all again. In the words of KISS, from their song, ‘Psycho Circus’:
I’ve been waiting here to be your guide
So come
Reveal the secrets that you keep inside
Step up!
No one leaves ’til the night is done.
The amplifier starts to hum
The carnival has just begun.
You’re in the psy
You’re in the psycho circus
Yeah, I say welcome to the show
Welcome to the show.
