Oh! Carnaval Addendum-

I completely forgot to put this in the last post, but these things I think you should know:

During the Batalle de Flores--the biggest parade of Carnaval, these among other "celebrities" made an appearance:

-Hitler
-Chavez
-The FARC (biggest terrorist group round these parts)
-the pope
-potentially the Ku Klux Klan
-George Bush
-Avatar folk (in shiny blue go-go boots)
-Captain America
-Ronald McDonald

I wasn't quick enough with my camera to provide evidence. But they were there. Not in person, of course, for those that actually exist...but either way, if you couldn't recognize their getup, they also carried large signs to ensure their identity was known.

Let it be known that Carnaval in Barranquilla is nothing if not diverse.

Carnaval Climax

I honestly don’t even know where to start. Carnaval. The short version: Noise. Dancing. Sequins.

I’d planned to write a pretty detailed post…but I’m too tired. In all versions of the sentiment. My ears are literally still ringing. One day I will look back on this and laugh. Right now, I’m still reeling.

To avoid being redundant, let me first voice things that, if it were up to me, I would change about Carnaval: Noise level. Length of time. The need to be able to dance Colombian dances. The ability to tell Cumbia songs apart.

I am not being entirely fair. Carnaval, from a less in-the-thick-of-it-all point of view, is incredible. The dancing, costumes, history and traditions are stunning. The will to party and endurance to do so under hot sun and through the wee hours of the morning is truly amazing. If I hadn’t had to endure two months buildup, a week of torture within my school, and then finally Carnaval itself in all its bulla, I would have probably loved Carnaval. I can love it…I promise I can.

But meanwhile, here you are: first, a Carnaval overview, Carnaval Characters and then the Carnaval recap:

Overview:

Carnaval is officially a four day celebration during which everyone gets out all their party and sinful tendencies prior to commencing Lent. Barranquilla hosts the second largest in the world. Each day brings a parade, each with its own significance, and there is a set cast of Carnaval characters who represent different aspects of Carnaval as well. There is also specific Carnaval music—think along the lines of Christmas carols, but dirtier.

Because four days are not enough to contain all the party, the city begins celebrations long before we reach the opening Saturday of Carnaval (see previous posts for more details). During the four days, the entire town shuts down to host parties that are probably four times the size of the Macy’s Day Parade, with approximately a thousand times more music, dancing, and sequins. Yes, this math is possible. In addition, events occur all throughout the city, including music concerts formal and informal, and barrio parties of various sizes. Blond hair becomes a common place thing—not just because of the wigs people wear, but because of the vast influx of gringos.

Carnaval official events include mostly giant parades, starting with the Batalle de Flores, with ridiculous floats and singers and dancers. The other parades have separate significance historically but in reality look pretty much the same, but get smaller as the days go on. Rich people buy shady bleacher seating which costs about 80 dollars a day, other people buy seats for about 20 dollars in the sun, and the rest just pack themselves onto sidewalks and wreak havoc in the side streets. There are also traditional music concerts, events where dancing can and does take place, lots of family gatherings, and lots of street parties as well, which include people hauling out the family 8-feet-fall speakers, and forcefully entertaining the neighborhood until the sun begins to rise.  

Carnaval Characters:

Barranquilla’s Carnaval celebration is a conglomeration of cultural phenomenon from all over the coast and continent. Most of these characters come with either specific duties or a specific song and dance. Some of the most ubiquitous cast of Carnaval characters includes:

Queen entering her float via crane

 La Reina: the queen of Carnaval. Barranquilla appoints a reina, who oversees all events, equipped with magnificent dresses and dance skills.

He has his own float, but it's not as awesome

El Rey Momo: The king of Carnaval. He dances, too, but is far less important than the queen. He has far fewer duties and in parade importance, is generally several floats back from the queen; they are rarely seen together

  El Monocuco: Represent the Carnaval party—dressed in head to toe in a beachball-resembling hooded cloak, carrying a staff and wearing a sparkly mask

having lost a few pictures, this is from El Heraldo

El Marimondo: Represent “disorder”—they have a special dance to special music that includes tuba licks, lots of wiggling, booty slapping, and spasming on the ground. Their mask is one of the most emblematic symbols of Carnaval, appearing on stuffed people all around the city, earrings, purses, etc. Fun fact: that is not an elephant trunk….it represents a penis.

Me and one of my Marimondo students at the school's Carnaval

El Garabato: Dancers who represent the success of Carnaval over death. Women dress in black dresses and dance and are smote down by Death, after which the hero comes and vanquish Death

                                                         

Another not-my picture, from El Heraldo

La Negrita Puloi: From Cartagena. They dress in blackface and wear curly wigs. Which came first, the Minnie Mouse or the Negrita Puloi? 

El Africano: Perhaps the most racist character, they go around in blackface and paint their tongues and lips bright red, and go around rolling their eyes and waggling giant tongues. A history teacher at my school told me they’re imitating how the Spanish folk perceived their African slaves to be talking when they spoke their native languages.

 

  

Carnaval Recap:

Pictures really do speak louder than words. And if you could only hear the music that went along with the pictures..you'd probably have to close your computer. But since you can't, it's safe :)  So here are a couple pictures:

Ultimately, I have never been so happy to commence Lent. These past weeks were the loudest weeks I’ve ever experienced. Exhilarating, colorful, bountiful, enlightening…and exhausting. The city is still recovering. My ears are still ringing. School is lacking in loud noise and enforced dancing.

 So that means we’re back to the grind, right? Maybe we’ll get schedules? Maybe we’ll do real work?

Me: “We’ll get schedules now, right?”

Coteacher: “Maybe. Soon. Probably.”

Me: “But there’s no more Carnaval.”

Coteacher: “But Semana Santa is almost here. That’s a great time to plan things like schedules.”

Me: “That’s a month away”

Coteacher: “We like to say that school starts mid-April around here…”*

*Semana Santa is Easter week. I informed him that we will not be waiting this long to commence actual work. He agrees a month may be long enough to get some work done prior to our next holiday week…

Carnaval Trickery

How to trick a gringa into participating in Carnaval:

a) When she refuses the position of school "Reina," invent a new position: "La Princesa"

b) Take advantage of the fact she doesn't know what's going on. Tell her she has to do nothing for school Carnaval events. Make her feel happy that everyone is being so friendly and kind. Lull her into a false sense of security that she will be an observer ONLY of almost every event.

c) Keep gringa in the dark until approximately one minute before events. Then, adorn her in a giant skirt and tell her to get ready to dance. When she protests, tell her you have, in fact, told all the students that said gringa will be dancing. Take advantage of her genuine wish to fulfill student expectations.

d) Push gringa out of room. Gringa, having no other option, will dance.

BUT be warned: gringa will become a very grumpy gringa. And will probably be thinking thoughts of revenge...from that moment forward!

...Yes, that's right--today brought yet another surprise dance event. This time, a formal occasion. That included utilizing said (lack of) dance skills to parade up and down the courtyard in front of, you guessed it, the entire school. Students as well as teachers. Multiple times.

At least, dear school, you are very kind in regards to my lack of dancing skills.

Carnaval Crescendo

 There should be written, detailed warnings about what Carnaval means for resident gringos. If I don’t make it through the coming week: I donate my worldly possessions to my school. Except for my muffin tray, which goes to the Barranquilla Baking crew. Mom and Dad, please take care of the cat.

Carnaval, here, exists in two spheres—school, and the city. The city, obviously, has Carnaval, and PreCarnaval, and that is craziness enough to last an entire year of partying.

But the school system can’t be outdone—we don’t just take it easy on classes because we’re waiting for the city fiesta—we hold our own Carnaval activities. Every day this coming week. Which of course, means, practicing for said activities. Which mostly include dancing, music, drums, and more dancing. The secondary and primary levels each have their own queen. There are parades. There are dancing exhibitions, and spoken verse pronunciations, and, well, I’m not entirely clear on what else.

It wouldn’t be so bad, perhaps, if my role was simply that of an observer. Like it was supposed to be. But somehow, last week, my school tricked me and sucked me in. I am still fuzzy on my role. I have been heard I am the “princess,” which I didn’t think existed and I thought they were joking, until I realized they weren’t. This realization occurred on Thursday  when I got caught walking through a dance practice, and told to come practice with them.

Instantly put into the middle of a cumbia circle, word spread like arroyo water and the entire school streamed to the balconies to watch me dance. (Note: whenever I say dance, this should be read as TRY to dance.)

“You need just a ittie bit more practice,” they told me, the sweetest girls in the world. “Come tomorrow and we’ll do a little more practicing.”

So, the next day I show up, having been told that there would be classes as well. Under the impression I’d be joining class as usual and maybe stepping into a dance practice in between, naturally I was somewhat dumbfounded when I walked into a completely full courtyard filled with every age girl, cumbia drums, and music. It took approximately 1.5 seconds for them to notice I’d arrived, after which they swarmed over, grabbed my arms, and pulled me into the middle of a dance circle, screaming, “Emily! Emily! Emily!”  The balconies were lined, the hordes were dancing and I was in the middle of it all...with no choice but to take the most public, and sweaty, dance lessons of my life. For the next hour.

I was bounced from circles of girls to other circles (made up of grades) until finally I escaped to watch the madness from above:

 Now, where were the teachers in all this, I wondered? I slipped into the teacher’s lounge and found them sitting there, each and every one of them. “Was this planned?” I asked. “Oh no,” they chuckled. “But the girls wanted to dance.”

Right.

Two hours after I arrived, the teachers finally took the microphone back, had the girls put the drums away, and turned off the music, sending the girls to their homerooms to do a little more organized Carnaval planning.

I followed Carlota to her ninth grade homeroom class. Since she’s a Johova’s Witness, she doesn’t believe in Carnaval. So she’d asked if I could walk with her class in the parade on Wednesday, and just make sure they behave and such. (this parade, by the way, is held on the public streets around the school). 

Little, ignorant me assumed this would be something like the teachers’ jobs when we marched in, say, the Oktoberfest Parade back home—the plainsclothed assistant on the sidelines, handing water in when necessary.

And then Carlota makes the announcement to her class. “You will be the only class in the school—maybe in the city!--lucky enough to have a gringa LEADING YOUR DANCE. She’s going to wear a magnificent dress! And makeup! It will be spectacular!”

My mouth dropped. I tried to shield my deathglare. Relax, you say. It’ s only a day! Or a week! They’re nice people, they won’t care if you can dance or not!

This is much easier to think, or say, when thousands of people aren’t watching you. When your coworkers aren’t judging you. When you’re using non-Colombian standards of dance. When dancing doesn’t also define who you are as a person…I could go on.

But instead,  let’s touch on the big city-wide event I attended this weekend—La Guacherna. La Guacherna is a night parade the Friday before Carnaval, begun by Esther Forero in 1974, a famous singer known as the "bride of Barranquilla" who died last year. Ultimately, it’s a city-wide party while the city does what it does best—explodes in costumes, brightly colored nylon, sequins, and loud music. 

La Reina. What you can't see is the guy carrying the giant light who runs after her so all the newspapers can take photos, her personal makeup assistant, and her overall posse

 One of many crazy floats, with ridiculous loudspeakers

 A guy on stilts with fire...no big

All was well until, after two hours, we decided to fight our way out of the crowd. Which literally meant running a gauntlet of drunk Colombians, who identified our  gringo-ness by Tyler, who was leading our group out. “Gringos!” the shout went up. Out came cans of foam, packets of flour, whatever on hand, to cover us in scum as they jostled and pushed and shoved and shouted.

We managed to make it out in one piece and relatively unscathed, although with all the people we never managed to reunite with our other friends out on the route. One group witnessed a small stampede. Another watched as someone, in the midst of a packed crowd, lit a roman candle, proceeded to get punched in the face, and then a street fight broke out. After which the police arrived and arrested the fireworks guy. First arrest I’ve heard of in the city yet!

So. Carnaval officially starts on Saturday. My school Carnaval starts tomorrow. Wish me luck…I’m going to need it.

Just for fun: This picture happened when a group of guys drove this by our house. My host sister's boyfriend ran out, had them stop and get out so we could climb in and take a picture!